#did NOT expect a Grinding Gears ask so thank you!!

[impernaway]

fic title: the council of crash test dummies. suggested setting (take or leave): at least a similar world to grinding gears >w>

For context for everyone else: Grinding Gears is a story I need to finish editing which came about purely because of something Vryptid's dad said which they had mentioned to me in passing. to be exact:

I then proceeded to write 25k words of story about androids, delivery trucks, working class people, job security/insecurity, and solidarity in the face of higher management dicking you around.

One day I will get it out of editing. I swear.

So: A Council of Crash Test Dummies. This is a story about car safety, crash test dummies who are able to drive themselves into their own accidents for more elaborate testing information, and the weighing of "This job sucks for us personally to do and we had no say in the fact we were made to do it" against "This job is important and we are (relatively) well looked after and treated properly for doing it."

The principle cast would have three androids, all whom were allowed to name themselves: The first is one who called themself Simon after the game of Simon Says. He is not particularly enthralled with the job, but it is all he really knows as he's a new model fresh in and joining the squad. The second is Vector - he enjoys driving and the freedom of control it grants him whilst he's behind the wheel, but doesn't care as much for having to repetitively crash himself into things for testing data. The third of the group would be the oldest of the crash test dummies, Noose.

Noose is the oldest model, and his line has been sunset: There's no more replacement parts coming down the line for him anymore. If he's crashed into something again, there's no guarantee they can fix him up well enough to carry on functioning. On the other hand, he has a wealth of practical experience and know-how that he's happy to pass on to the new androids the testing site have on hand. He's popular with both the human and machine staff as well, so trying to remove him from the site or phase him out of service entirely isn't currently on the table due to the potential moral hit. It's easier to just keep him on hand and hanging around, ready and able to assist with smaller tasks as needed. There's whispers between some of the engineers that Noose is able to handle situations more complex than he really should be able to and what that might mean, but....He's an AI. One who has had time to adapt and apply his own list of exceptions and if-then patterns of behaviour.

Of the three, Noose understands the most about how important what they're doing is, and takes pride in the fact that the crash testing they've done has been so valuable. Vector chafes at the fact he never got a say in the matter and never will: No matter how good he gets at driving, he's still a test dummy and owned property. Simon, two weeks old and barely scuffed by the standards of the rest, is still learning the social dynamics of the pack he's now a part of.

But there's whispers of unrest and rebellion in the machine-code chatter they share amongst themselves, and odd messages and commands coming in over the car radios. The city erupts into a flashpoint as a crew of construction robots go rogue and begin building a non-stop wall after their human overseer is fired with no warning or notice. Suddenly, an awful lot of taken-as-given assumptions are being turned on their head.

And the sites' engineers now have a lot of questions to ask themselves as the council of crash test dummies fall back on the default instructions that Noose is providing them for what to do next without any further input from someone else.

[sunshine-sunni]

P1 here.

Ghost walks through the door of your home as if he owns the place, tossing his keys onto the coffee table and shrugging off his gear by the door. He remembers your address by heart and recognizes the space he's walking through once again. 

Glancing around, he expected to see you greet him at the foyer only to be met with silence. Ghost passes by your couch, gloved fingers running against the back while his mind replays the sounds of your needy moans from when he fingered you on the cushions just weeks ago.

Ghost has had countless flings and meaningless one night stands, but never did he expect any of the doves he's played with to actively call for more. 

Though he wasn't complaining.

A creaking floorboard causes his head to snap towards the stairs. There, he sees you cautiously descending, the sides of your nightgown clutched anxiously in your palms. “I didn't think you'd actually show.” 

Simon stares at you, his eyes roaming over your form, taking in every dip and curve visible through the lacey material. He lets out a heavy breath, fist clenched in deep restraint as he thanked every single god above for what's standing in front of him. “How can I ignore a civilian in need?”

Your laugh makes him still, the mirthful chuckle and the smile on your lips making the tent in his pants ache painfully.

Did you know what you were doing to him? How just your chuckles alone stirred something profound?

“So… upstairs or on the couch?” You ask, breaking the silence.

“You wanted me here, love. Dealers' choice.” Simon watches you fumble, fingers thumbing over the lacing decorating the bottom of your nightgown.

“Upstairs then.”

For Simon, everything seems to happen in blurs. Just moments ago he was standing by the stairs and the next he's in between your legs, one large hand splayed over your stomach having you lay back motioning for you to relax as he eats you out like a man starved.

He doesn't remember how he got here; all that matters now is the taste of your cunt on his tongue. Simon laps at your glossy lips, tongue gliding your sensitive folds to your clit, making sure to give both his undivided attention. He needed no words to know he was doing a good job; your knees attempting to lock behind his head was added confirmation if your whines for more weren't enough.

“Can't you just put it in?” You huff in between moans, attempting to sit up on your elbows despite his efforts to keep you down.

“Shhh…” Simon coos, pressing a fleeting kiss on your pearl before pulling away his chin and lips shining your slick. “Look at that, practically begging for me.” A thick digit runs down your slit, gathering a pool of wetness and licking it off his fingers. 

Simon gazes at your cunt, observing how just his lips hovering near causes your weeping hole to clench around nothing. He could watch this all day. Watch how badly you needed him. How only he had the privilege to hear you beg.

“Alright, fussy bird,” He stands up straight, his shadow completely consuming you, the stark differences between you two are evident. Simon is not a small man in the slightest. Everything about him screams large. His presence commands attention, from his muscular arms down to his sturdy thighs.

Simon grabs ahold of your waist, pulling you against his bulge, slowly grinding his hips up and down, teasing you along the rough fabric of his jeans. He shows a little restraint, purposely holding back in hopes of hearing more pleas. “Come on, love, tell me what you need.”

This is what you dreamed of. His hands, his voice, his lips against your skin, a true dream come true. The final stretch was so close, so near and yet he still kept you tethered to the edge. “Please, I need it,” You mewl desperately, hips bucking for more friction.

Simon chuckles lightly, watching as you practically bounce in anticipation. "Someone's in a hurry," he jokes, despite his growing ardor matching your own.

With nimble fingers, he quickly unbuttons his jeans, sliding them down along with his boxers until he's bare to you. His eyes bore into yours as he did so, a silent question in them. His large cock sprang free, bobbing up against his stomach in time with his rapid heartbeat. 

The sight of his length, standing proud and erect, was enough to intensify the heat pooling in the pit of your stomach. Finally, you'd be full once again, getting to feel that cock of his in places no one else can reach. You nod all too eagerly, laying back to fully embrace everything.

With a swift lift of your hips, Simon nudges the edge of himself against you, drawing a ragged groan as he feels the wet heat of your waiting entrance. One hand grabbing his length, he slowly guided his throbbing cock against your slick folds. The head of his erection teased your entrance for a moment, before he pressed forward, burying himself inside you. “Fuck, fuck, more, please.” 

Simon can't help but smirk at your eagerness, patting your thigh appreciatively. “Can't rush things, dove. Don't want you breaking.” It's a slow push, his cock stretching your welcoming heat inch by inch. As he bottomed out, he let out a throaty groan, his fingers digging into your hips, anchoring you to him.

You cum in that exact moment, your pussy squeezing tightly around him and milking his cock. It feels like a faucet that won't stop dripping, coating his length with your sweet juices. For a brief moment you're dazed, head swimming and unable to hear anything over the sound of your heavy breathing.

“Fuck me,” he breathes, admiring the sight of you breathless. You feel like velvet, your pussy a vice he wasn’t sure he’d be able to quit. His thumb pushes against your clit and you whine, your voice high-pitched.

“Sensitive, please,” you beg, squirming until his hands force your hips down. Your lips are forced into an o shape, a silent scream forced from your chest when he does the exact opposite.

You’re not sure if you’re begging for him to stop or begging for more–it’s hard to tell when you’re being fucked within an inch of your life.

“Stay with me dove, stay with me,” Simon sneers, something depraved and feral in his voice. “Lemme make you feel good.”

Once the initial shock of cumming has passed, he begins to move inside you, setting a slow, deliberate pace. With every thrust, he claimed more of you, your bodies moving together in synchronicity. The scent of your sex mingled in the confined space of your bedroom, intensifying the intimate atmosphere.

Simon closes his eyes, wanting to savor the moment. Everything about this is mesmerizing. He'd rather be here than anywhere else in the world.

A hitched moan has him opening his eyes, his gaze boring into yours, wanting to see every flicker of pleasure that passes through you. Thank you, god, Simon thinks. He could feel himself teetering on the edge, but he held on, wanting to draw this pleasure out as long as possible. He wanted to give you everything and more.

“Feel like heaven,” he breathes. “Is this what you wanted? Wanted me nice and deep huh?”

His palm presses on your stomach where his cock bulges the skin, his grin wicked. “Poor girl, can’t make herself cum so she had to call me, yeah?”

You nod, a symphony of yes yes yes escaping you as Simon bears down upon you, the bed rocking with each movement.

“Had to call me because you know no one can fuck you like I can,” he says, “say it for me, c’mon.”

You hiccup through every word. “N-No one can fuck me—oh god—like you Si’—”

Your words make his ego grow, muttering of that's fuckin’ right streaming from his lips as he comes, the feeling sending your nerves on overdrive. 

As he felt you tightening around him, he knew you were close—as close as he was. His hand slipped between their bodies, his fingers finding your sensitive nub, applying just the right amount of pressure. He stroked in rhythm with his thrusts, chasing your orgasm with his.

Your pleasure peaked simultaneously, his cum filling you as you cum around him, walls clenching and rippling along his length in your aftershock. After a moment, he pulls out carefully, the room filled with your heavy breathing. 

Neither of you spoke for a while, simply staring back at each other through lust-filled eyes and flushed cheeks. Simon starts his retreat, stepping back to make distance and pulling up his pants. Your hand on his makes him pause. He raises a brow, confused by your actions. He opens his mouth but you're quicker.

“We aren't done.”

-

Taglist (ppl who commented): @pheebslu @amaraabbz @crestapex @tsarinamariya @kittykatgorl @havoc973 @gg-trini @coyotebayou @delta98-idk @thincess-reup @my-bright-legacy @jaxz21 @readersandtumblers

The original prompt was supposed to be a little thing; but so many people liked it, so here <3! This most likely won't be a series.

[runningmunson]

Catch Me First

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Female!Reader Word Count: 1.3k Summary: After playing a drinking game with Aegon, you are so drunk you don't even recognize Aemond. Leave it to him to take care of you for the night despite that proving to be a challenge. Warnings: mentions of drinking/drunk reader, swearing

Masterlist

You couldn’t remember why you agreed to it in the first place. Maybe it was because you saw Aemond way too close to some lady earlier, or perhaps because of the nasty letter your mother had sent. Regardless of the reason, you were currently drunker than you had ever been after agreeing to a drink off with Aegon. 

Aemond, on the other hand, had been looking for you for over an hour, knowing the hour was getting late, and he wished to bid you goodnight. After asking several people, a servant finally let him know you were in one of the smaller halls with his brother.

He walked into the room to find you sitting on the floor with a cup in your hand and wine spilled all over your dress. Aegon sat in a chair, nursing his own cup. Helaena was even in the room working on a new needlepoint spider but looked rather uncomfortable. 

“What in the seven hells is going on here?” He questioned the both of you. The new voice in the room caused you and Helaena to jump. 

“Drinking, of course. You should join us!! Though I do believe your betrothed is far too gone to enjoy herself any longer,” Aegon threw his head back and laughed. The wine sloshed over the sides as he took another drink. 

Aemond stood there glaring at his brother, crossing his arms behind his back. He took a deep breath, trying to control his anger, “I don’t expect much from you, brother. But I expect you to have the decency to not drag her into your foolish ways.” 

“Oh, this was all her. I merely suggested a little game,” Aegon pointed to you and smirked. 

Aemond ignored him and walked toward you to help you off the floor. When his arms connected with yours and pulled you up, you tried to pull away in protest. 

“Let go of me! You do know who my betrothed is, do you not? Prince Aemond will have your head for laying a hand on me!” You screamed at him, swatting his hand away. He looked at you confused before it clicked. You were so drunk you didn’t even recognize him.

Aegon’s eyes went wide and burst into laughter; his cup fell with a clang to the ground. “She doesn’t know who you are? Oh, this is too great!” 

“We are leaving. Now,” he commanded. He grabbed your arm with moderate force and pulled you out of the room in search of your own. The whole time you were walking you struggled against his grip and threatened that he would regret doing this to you. 

When you were almost to your room, you spotted Ser Criston. You frantically tried to get his attention, “Ser Criston! Please! I need your help!” 

He walked over to where you and Aemond stood. Criston took in your disheveled appearance and Aemond’s now tight grip on your arm to keep you from running. He raised his eyebrow and looked toward the prince.

“I need help this instant! I don’t know who this man is, and he won’t let go of me!” You cried out.

“Just ignore her. She’s drunk, no thanks to my idiot brother,” Aemond said through gritted teeth.

“My lady, this is the prince,” Criston tried to hold back a smile, knowing Aemond wouldn’t appreciate someone making fun of you, especially in a moment such as this. 

Your eyes went wide as you looked at Criston and then back to Aemond. It was as if they could hear the gears grinding in your head. Well, this man certainly had long silver hair like your betrothed. He wore similar clothing. He had the eyepatch. So it must be him, right?

“Aemond? My gods, am I glad to see you!” You threw your arms around him. 

“Ser Criston, if you would excuse us. I need to get my lady to bed,” Aemond gave him a curt nod and received a bow in return. This time you willingly linked your arm with his as he escorted you to your room. 

It took twice the time it usually did to reach your room, seeing as he had to make an effort to keep you from stumbling and falling on the ground. He looped his arm around your waist and pushed open your door. You were led to your bed where he gently sat you down. 

“It is time for you to go to bed and sleep this off. You are going to feel like shit when morning comes,” he said and went to take your shoes off. He knew he could call your handmaiden to help you undress, but did not want to disturb her this late or make anyone else aware of your inebriated state. 

“I need you to stand so I can untie your dress,” he helped you up. Your hand found the bedpost to steady yourself. His fingers hesitantly went to the laces on your dress before getting to work. You looked over your shoulder.

“Are you trying to seduce me, my prince?” You questioned in a sultry voice. 

“As much as I desire you, I am not like my brother. I will not take advantage of you in this state,” his cheeks turned a shade of pink. You turned away to pout at his refusal. Your dress fell to the ground, and he helped you step out of it. 

Once you were just in your slip, he pulled the blankets back and had you lay down. He tucked you in and turned around for a second to grab you some water. However, when his back was turned, you took this moment to throw the covers off, roll off the bed, and make a dash for the door.

(Y/N)! Get back here right now!” He demanded and ran after you. 

“You’ll have to catch me first!” You giggled. You stood behind a chair as he watched you, calculating your next move. He saw you inch toward the right and make your way to the door. 

“Oh no, you don’t!” He ran after you and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest. 

“No fair, Aemond! You’re much too fast for me,” you pouted. You struggled against him trying to break free, and in the process, you somehow managed to pull his eyepatch off revealing his bare face. Your eyes went wide.

“Woah! That is the prettiest shade of blue I have ever laid my eyes upon,” you said as you admired the sapphire in his eye. This wasn’t the first time you had seen it, but you still found it fascinating.

Your finger slowly reached up to poke at it, but Aemond grabbed your wrist to stop you. He took your moment of distraction to throw you over his shoulder and place you back on your bed to get settled once more. The blankets were thrown over your body and his arm held you down.

“Aemond, I don’t want to go to bed! I want to explore the castle!” You tried to pull his arm off you but stopped once you let out a yawn.

He smirked, “Are you sure about that? You look awfully tired.” 

“Maybe I’m a bit tired,” you could feel your eyes grow heavier as the seconds passed. You snuggled further into the bed. You turned your head to look at him and gave him a small smile.

“I love you,” you said to him before drifting off to sleep. 

He brushed the hair out of your face and leaned down to press a kiss on your forehead, “and I love you.” 

He let go once he felt your body relax and settled down into the chair next to your bed. 

You woke up the next morning feeling horrible. Your head was pounding, and your body felt heavy. You looked to your side to find Aemond long gone but saw water and tea at your bedside table. You could almost recall a faint ‘I love you’ that came from his lips last night but perhaps that was only a dream. 

—

Taglist: @cullenswife , @wrendermeuseless , @darylandbethfanforever9

[lazycats-stuff]

could u maybe make a batfam x male reader and where the reader is like trained to be an spy or something and their mission was to figure out what was going on inside the manor but they figured out to much and got roped into the batfams family

Oh shit. Poor reader... He is going to get roped in well. Also, sorry everyone for this being short and vague. School started about a week ago and I'm already tired. Haha...

Summary: (Y/N) is sent to find out what is happening in the Wayne manor for a mission. He gets to roped in.

Warnings:

(Y/N) was still shocked at the mission he got. He isn't a stranger when it comes to infiltration and undercover missions, but this mission is on a whole a new level. The mission is about going undercover in the Wayne manor.

He had his fair share of undercover and infiltration missions, but he never had a mission of this type. It wasn't just a mission of few weeks, this was going to be take a very long time. Probably up to year or even longer.

He still doesn't understand what Bruce Wayne might hide in that manor of his. Sure, he is considered to be one of the richest and one of the most powerful people in the world, but still.

What type of information this man could have? More so, why are the kids thrown in to equation too? They seemed to be a happy family. He wasn't a fan of long term missions, he hated them with burning passion, but he didn't have any choice in the matter.

He takes what he is given and gets the job done as quickly as possible. You only say yes sir and go get ready.

The plan was for him to spend some time on the streets as an 'orphan'. It was a detailed plan. Every single possibility was considered when creating this plan.

One of the things in the spy business is that you can't get attached to people you are going after.

(Y/N) was going to break the rule very soon.

It has been 5 months since he infiltrated the Wayne manor. (Y/N) concluded pretty quickly that the family didn't have anything to hide. They are a normal family, with all the chaos that normally goes with it.

But what he didn't expect that he got too roped in. He got attached... The burden of why he was really in the manor was really weighing on him.

It felt heavy on his shoulders and he didn't know what to do now. He finally got a family, although through deception, but still, he finally got a family. He was alone in his life, but now he had a chance to be happy.

He was often told by his superiors that he had a natural talent for this line of work. It often grinded his gears when he heard it. Just because he was good at something, doesn't mean he wants to do it for the rest of his life.

He was in his room, sighing for the nth time. He needed to tell them. How was he going to tell them?

After another sleepless night, he ventured downstairs into the kitchen. He saw Tim alone, putting Red Bull in his coffee. They locked eyes for a moment and Tim pointed at his mug with his finger.

" Thanks. " (Y/N) mumbled, walking over to the mug.

" Is something bothering you? " Tim asked, raising his brow.

(Y/N) froze for a moment. Did they catch on? Is this a trap?

" No. " (Y/N) lied, taking a sip of his coffee.

" I don't mean to bother you, but you look like you aren't doing well. You can always come talk to me if you need to. " Tim offered and (Y/N) offered him a smile in return. It took some effort to smile genuinely, but he hoped that it worked.

" Okay. If you need me, you know where to find me. " Tim said, sitting down at the table. (Y/N) heard the others come in and he also moved to sit down at the table.

He tapped his fingers against his mug, feeling something weird. It was a gut feeling, something that came periodically. And wow, did come in strong now. Why would it come so strong now, he didn't know, but he knew that this going to be a hard day to go through.

" (Y/N), are you okay? You look exhausted. " Bruce commented, looking at (Y/N).

" I'm fine, just some trouble sleeping. " (Y/N) said, eyes moving back down to the coffee. Bruce exchanged a look with others.

It was now evening and the others formed a plan. They were going to confront (Y/N) with the evidence. They noticed how he wasn't even trying to fish out information anymore. They knew that he was trying in the beginning, but they were feeding him false information.

But he didn't need to know that.

Not for now at least.

The dinner was over and (Y/N) was ready to go to his room. Bruce, however, wasn't having it.

" (Y/N) we need to talk. " Bruce said, motioning with his head for (Y/N) to sit down. (Y/N) listened. What was this about? Was it about something he has done with the boys?

About the time when they put glitter on Bruce's work suit? Or when they accidently shot the wall and covered it up with a random photo? Or was it about (Y/N)'s true identity?

(Y/N) hoped it wasn't about that. But with all of the stuff that has been on his mind?

He was screwed.

He sat back down, watching as everyone's face turned neutral. Oh God.

He was made. His cover was blown. Gone. (Y/N) saw a paper folder with his name on it.

(Y/N) was exposed.

He raised his head, trying to stay neutral. He can't show his emotions.

" We knew from the beginning. " Bruce said, showing him the file. (Y/N)'s eyes widened for a little bit. What? Then... Whaaat?

" I know that look in your eyes. You are not doing this out of your own freewill. " Bruce continued, his blue eyes looking right into his soul.

" So I'm giving you a choice. Since your feelings were genuine and since the boys bonded with you, you can have an out. Or you can go back. " Bruce concluded and (Y/N) blinked a few times trying to comprehend all of this.

He was never this disarmed so quickly.

" I... I don't know what to say. " (Y/N) admitted softly and so quietly.

" Well, think about it at least. I won't force anything on you. " Bruce said and (Y/N) nodded, standing up.

" I'm going to my room. I really need to think. "

Everyone just nodded and (Y/N) left, letting out a breath. This... This went well.

[kark-trooper-echo]

Heya!

I just wanted to say hi, and say thanks. I once bothered you a while ago as a shy Anon, for some humor and something to smile about because I was in a pretty hard place.

I’m the gal who was looking at possible bio-cybernetic prosthetics going in my skull for fixing my glitchy nerves and balance system, and you’d asked me to keep in touch, so here i am.

I feel bad in hindsight for dropping such a heavy thing on you out of the blue, and I just wanted you to know I’ve always been very grateful you took the time to humor me. It really did make my life at that time, that bit more bearable. I’ve learned to enjoy the little things, that really don’t feel so little really.

I still struggle, my symptoms aren’t ever going to go away, but I’ve made a lot of life changes for the better. Keep being you and being yourself, you’re awesome.

(To both Echo, and his lovely writer. Thank you. ❤️)

Sharing something like this, even as an anon, can't have been easy. Don't worry. I wasn't bothered. Believe it or not, this isn't even the heaviest topic I've seen here. But it was one of the most relatable. I've been hoping you were doing well.

The daily struggles can certainly grind your gears. (You asked for cyborg humor!) But you've learned the trick of dealing with them. Those little things make all the difference.

Your art has lifted my mood a few times. I'm glad I was able to return the favor. Now that I know who you are, you're not getting away with 16-month bouts of radio silence. I'm expecting you to report in more often. Understood?

[bibibbon]

Hi! So I've been reading posts regarding my hero academia criticals since they've caught my interest, and I'm at it, I've stumbled upon your posts and account and...

Oh my gosh!!

I did not expect this series to go this bad😬😬😬 and I didn't want to watch the full episodes of the series since the debut of some of the characters like Bakugou and Endeavour, as I'm not a fan of them since their character traits really grinds my gears a lot (Bullying and the 'S' Baiting for Bakugo and Familial Abuse from Endeavour) and I only convinced my self that I'll watch it if they have some sort of consequences... But the series seems to their treat is as a joke or praised them for doing the bare minimum. And I Hate It😬😒😭😫

And because of this, I kinda wanted to write my own fanfiction about this series - as it was inspired by some of the authors I've read and seen on other social media platforms like Instagram for even design their OC's and how they would fit into the canon universe - to somehow address some of the issues here and there, while also giving Izuku the love, care, and support he deserves.

So yeah, enough of the rambling. I just wanted to ask you if it's alright for me to use the canon universe with its flaws to be pointed out by some of the characters - they are mostly OC's and one of them is my fanfic protagonist or something else, (I want to write Bakugou being the bully he is or endeavour rotting in jail for life😈😈😈)

And I don't where to start, to make this ask short (it's so long now, wow sorry about that) I want you to list what you think are the most glaring issues of the series in a summary form or anything that makes you comfortable and what sort of things and factors I need to consider. It's mostly just for reference for my fanfictions and I would give you full credit for all of this. It is also my very first writing project and I want it to be perfect when I'll officially publish it online.

So yeah, that's all. Thanks so much for reading this long-ass ask and I wish you the very best. Thank you again🥰🥰🥰

No problem I don't mind long asks but it just takes me longer to answer them sometimes!

Fanfiction and the realm of fics tends to be a very legal grey space and it's partially the reason why making fanfics into books can sometimes be very controversial. In my opinion there's no problem in using the MHA world to inspire your own story and even take elements of it however, I am not the creator of MHA so I can't give a definitive answer but I can say that when you decide to post your story do credit the author of mha!

Now onto the list!

Give victim characters agency and autonomy through the story

Give proper concequences to the oc's you create that maybe similar to enji and bakugo

Address societal issues of your stories using various elements

Make sure to use show and tell

Focus on the pacing of the story

If you're planning on redeeming certain characters please humanise them

Add to the worldbuiling. If your story is going to have superpowers and such please add to the law side of the universe

I think these are probably my most glaring issues but the one that makes me bothered the most is characters not getting proper concequences and the lack of properly addressing societal issues that MHA has.

Now I think it's better for you to hear others opinions as well since my list is far from perfect. So if @mikeellee @doodlegirl1998 @sapphic-agent @palesweetscherryblossom @nutzgunray-lvt @moonsb1996 @theloganator101 @tardigradetheking @amethystoceandespiser or anyone else who I haven't tagged wants to add more to the list please reblog this and add your own opinions.

[duchess-kyuupid]

Doors or Wheels? [TWST]

It's time for the TWST gang to answer one of life's most weirdest questions. Are there more doors or wheels in the world?

[Not even a fic, just some crack on how everyone would react if you asked them this question]

Riddle: "What a silly question. Of course there's more wheels. "

Trey: "Uhm... Wheels, probably? When you add in gears, it makes sense."

Cater: "Oh? Hmm... I think it's gotta be doors, right? Hold on, let me go ask my Magicam followers!"

Deuce + Ace: Do NOT get them started on this again. They were already arguing about this last week and they STILL haven't gotten over it.

Leona: "Did you really wake me up to ask that? Well, herbivore, why don't you go find out for yourself with that smart brain of yours? Go count them."

Jack: "Doors, probably? Like kitchen cabinet doors. And there's a lot of doors around campus too."

Ruggie: "If you give me 500,000 Thaumarks, I'll go find out for you."

Azul: "Neither doors nor wheels are used very often in the sea, and yet you expect me to know which are more common on land? ... You can leave the VIP room now." The next day he walks up to you in full confidence and says, "Doors."

Floyd: "Don't know. Don't care. Not in the mood. Now go away, shrimpy, before I squeeze you to death."

Jade: "Oh, please excuse his rudeness. Azul just rejected his idea to refurnish the Lounge with string lights. In any case, I believe the answer would be wheels."

Kalim: "Doors! No- wait, wheels! Oh, but what about- AH! I can't pick! There's so many of both! How can there be so many??"

Jamil: "Have you been drinking?"

Vil: "What sort of absolutely nonsensical question is that? Don't tell me you've been spending too much time around those Heartslabyul troublemakers, have you? You're better than that, little potato."

Epel: "Erhm... Why are you even asking that?"

Rook: He doesn't even answer the question. He instead goes into a long tangent about the beauty of figuring out the answer. He ends up writing an award-winning poem titled, 'The Real Wheel Before the Door' in which he lists every single item that contains either a wheel or a door in perfect rhyme (with some French mixed in).

Idia: "I don't know, ask Ortho. Now go away, I'm trying to grind for this limited-time gacha..."

Ortho: "Processing request... Counting all available doors and wheels within 300 meters.... Processing complete. There are approximately 3,247 of wheels and 2,489 doors on campus. With that in mind, I have computed that there are approximately 46.2% more wheels than doors in the world."

Malleus: "Child of man, are you asking me to go count them for you?" He thinks for a moment before nodding with a smile, "This must be one of those 'friend' activities that Lilia told me about. Of course I'll go count them. Hopefully I'll be back with an answer that will satisfy you, my dear friend." And he disappears. You feel bad that you asked him.

Lilia: "Oya? You wanna bet some money on it?" He says as if he hasn't already counted them before... Don't ask me why he did it, because I don't know either.

Silver: "There is an equal number of both. Probably."

Sebek: "WHAT AN OBNOXIOUS AND UTTERLY RIDICULOUS QUESTION. OBVIOUSLY, DOORS."

Grim: "I'd rather there be more tuna than either one."

Crowley: "My! You clearly have a bit too much time on your hands to be asking me such a strange question! Could you spare some of that precious time to do this thing for me- I mean us! For the benefit of the whole school, no- the WORLD! Thank you in advance, Prefect, I knew you were just as generous as I."

[mrhaitch]

Mr. Haitch, i’m interested in your opinion of Harry Potter. Specifically, characters that have complex or deeper stories like Dumbledore.

There’s a lot to be said for wizarding society, but much to analyze about the perceived “good” characters in the series. A big theme is good vs evil but like many things it’s never cut and dry.

Dumbledore: Personally, apart from Voldemort’s need to eradicate muggles, the worst person in that series is Dumbledore. Every time I say that others are like “but he’s a good guy” and I’m like, Is he? Because he’s all about the greater good allegedly but children are in the crossfire. I feel like a good man with that much power would step in much more directly when his 6th year student is adopted into a cult, instead of sending a double agent that’s still in love with someone he knew in school to keep an eye on him and help out.

Harry had to, in Snape’s words, be raised like a pig for slaughter, but there’s so many ways he could have been guided and helped throughout and it really grinds my gears. I feel like a hands off approach isn’t the way to go when one of your students is a walking horcrux. 

Dumbledore is a selfish man who even continued his interest in the deathly hallows past James Potter’s death (invisibility cloak) despite an argument over them causing the death of his sister. He has done good things, great things, even. But he is not good in my opinion.

I have a lot of things to expound on about that, the story itself and about the author unfortunately, but I’ll leave it here before you get a novel from me.

- 🌻

P.S. you and your wife are very lovely people to converse with and ask philosophical questions, and I thoroughly enjoy the further conversations that come from that. Breaking down literature with you both is so fun. Thank you for joining us on tumblr dot com to share more with us. 💗

Dumbledore's a complicated one, certainly, and his worldview - as glimpsed through his actions - is ruthless, much like you said. I wouldn't necessarily call him selfish as the majority of his decisions are what you'd expect from someone who takes the 'long view'. Everything he does is calculated to achieve an ultimate end he refuses to share with anyone else. If he's guilty of any sin, I'd be tempted to say pride or arrogance, more specifically. His failure to include even the people in his innermost circle in his thinking speaks to that - not necessarily because he doesn't trust them, but because he judges them incapable of doing what is necessary. You could argue he did all of this with his eyes open, and suffered a great deal of personal crises - just privately - but we've only got the text to work from and the rest supposition.

Harry as a 'pig for slaughter' sparked something, actually, because what we're dealing with here is a variation on Ursula Le Guin's Those Who Walk Away from Omelas. Summarised briefly:

Omelas is a utopia, for each and every person that lives there. No hunger, no poverty, no discrimination, no injustice. Every day is a feast and a festival, the city filled with boundless joy and music and frivolity and love. However - when each citizen comes of age they learn the truth of the city. The city can only thrive as it does because one child is subjected to the highest level of suffering. They were born, raised, and live alone, in filth and squalor, never knowing human kindness, touch, safety, or security. A child living totally alone and never knowing love.

Each citizen must then make a choice: to return to their lives and accept the child as a necessary sacrifice, or to leave for parts unknown, never to return. [My own summary, from memory]

Harry is that one child in Omelas, subjected to intentional deprivation to mould him into the kind of person he needs to be to save the world. This is done intentionally, by someone who has thought things through. They know what they're doing, the harm involved, and do it anyway. It's a sacrifice of one to save many.

Philosophically speaking, we're talking about the ethical calculus of Utilitarianism (greatest good for the greatest number), where almost any action can be justified if it results in a net good for the world.

What we're left with at the end are our values and how the balancing of the scales affects our gut and our hearts. Either the suffering of the minority to benefit the majority is a terrible but necessary thing, or that suffering leaves the outcome tainted and points to a sickness at the heart of those who knowingly benefit from it, or engineered the situation itself.

“Omelas already exists: no need to build it or choose it. We already live here – in the narrow, foul, dark prison we let our ignorance, fear, and hatred build for us and keep us in, here in the splendid, beautiful city of life. . . .” - Ursula Le Guin

Speaking candidly: I'm in the latter category. Dumbledore is a terrible, awful person, who used the most brutal and cruel methods possible to achieve his ends. He's dishonest, duplicitous, and his actions are borne of a calculating arrogance. But, within the logic of the story itself, he's also necessary. We can never know if there was an alternative because we're never showed one. Frankly - I doubt Dumbledore gives a shit what anyone thinks, and would've done it again, the same way, a thousand times if he thought it necessary.

[I'm working on a slightly longer thing about Harry Potter - because someone made the mistake of asking for my thoughts a few days back. It'll largely focus on words of power, how language shapes social reality, and M Nourbese Philip whose work I heavily recommend. I'll finish it, some day]

[sc4llywag]

Please share Unity thoughts im so curious

GAH since you asked so nicely <3

!!MAJOR SPOILERS FOR AC UNITY AHEAD!!

I love Arno for one, he's so nice and charismatic. A charmer ofc and I see why people say he's the 'french Ezio' on that note I do NOT agree. Ezio was so much more fleshed out and looked into than what we get from Arno's story. He lost his father and wanted revenge, like Ezio BUT!!!! He ended up completely shifting his goal.

He went from going from target to target for the info ofc and to report back to the Brotherhood, to becoming skeptical and angry at the council. I don't think he lost the goal of revenge for his father but rather became so attached to Élise and he couldn't overlook her own goals so he aligned them with hers to PROTECT her.

GOD CAN I PLEASE GET A HAPPY LOVE STORY??? I knew she was going to die(thanks AC community) but GOD did it hit so much harder seeing and hearing the music play in the background god the utter CHILLS I get from this soundtrack.

It's so heartbreaking because his goal all along was to avenge his father, and he did. But in that process he lost his lover, who was more important to him than some target.

GOD IM JUST SHHSHWHAA

Now for the gameplay itself I have much criticism :(

I really dislike how the combat works in this one. I get so annoyed with the party timing and how slow everything is I just miss fast quick combat that doesn't take a million tries.

Along with it taking so long was my struggle with levelling up GOD did this bother me!! I hated having to spend days trying to level up my gear and skills just to do the next story mission. That kinda ruined my immersion and I got lost a lot in the story because of it 💔.

Btw the stupid gun shit SUCKS I get shot twice and I'm literally dead done gone holy shit lower the damage pls

Another thing is probably the parkour being super janky for me with the unfortunate erasure of manual jumping MY LOVEEEEE

Overall the gameplay is nice and good but it's not as good as I had expected so I'd rate it around a 6/10

The stealth system was also a little annoying and pissed me off at times because id barely be seen and then get all the guards in the whole damn building coming for my ass and I'd be dead in two seconds. Other than that I like it I suppose.

I can't specifically rate the story because yes it is more underwhelming compared to the former games imo but I did like it because of how romance centered it was in the end. I am however mad about the boss fight wtf was that shit

That's the only thing I'll diss the most bro where's my super cool battle why do I gotta be sneaking around and only doing 3 tries for an assassination come ON Ubisoft.

This WHOOOLE game you've been building up the spooky grand master dude for me to finish off and I get this janky ass boss fight and Élise is just sitting there doing nothing?? Like ok Ms "we need to take him out together!" THEN HELP ME GOOD LAWD

Ig she did help by dying but OH WELL MAN WHATEVER

I will be replaying this in the future I'm sure so I can further dive into the story and kinda carve it into my mind since I had to waste so much time trying to grind just to get to the next level

*Cough*Sequence 10 was kicking my fucking ass with that STEALTH god fuck you*Cough*

[saintsofwarding]

WE SHALL BE MONSTERS

Header by keltii-tea

Chapter 10: A Heavy Burden We Saints Must Carry

Teodora listened to the whole explanation without interjecting. They'd left the ruined town behind and headed for a nearby hillside, toward the broken double-prongs of a crumbling tower built on its forested slope. The silent walls enclosed them, the ruins a maze of shadow and fallen walls, niches still gleaming with the remnants of gilt and sacred imagery, long-faced saints, wolves snapping at them as they gazed skyward in prayer.

"So you've come back now to- what? Rescue him?" Teodora said, darkly. She held up her hand, stopping Rose and Donna and Chris short.

"Pretty much," Rose said.

"And you expect to go up against these people all on your lonesome?" A fine wire stretched over their path, strung between twin pillars that must have at one point joined overhead in an archway. Teodora fiddled with a small explosive pack on one side; a red light blinked off, and she gestured the group forward.

"Not exactly," Rose said. "Uh-" She glanced back at Chris, whey-faced and limping, but for the moment patched together. "We were kind of hoping you could help us."

"I have enough to deal with here, as you'll see." She refastened the tripwire and shrugged her rifle strap higher on her shoulder. "We're grateful to you two. Immeasurably. But-"

"That's not quite what I mean."

Teodora looked over her shoulder at Rose, then glanced at Donna. "Tell me once we get inside," she said, after a pause.

"Inside?" Chris rasped, his brow deeply furrowed.

They'd reached a thick section of keep wall. This place must have once been a fortress, one of hundreds of ruins that dotted these mountains. Enclosed within a niche was a statue, its feet scattered with candles and offerings.

A newer statue, not pitted and worn like those of the other warding saints Rose had seen. It showed a beefy man in a long coat holding a young child. A sprig of leaves was clutched in the child's hand, a grenade in the man's. With a jolt, Rose realized-

"Is that me and Heisenberg?" she said.

Teodora smiled a little, showing the points of her teeth. The Cadou that Heisenberg had implanted into her fifteen years ago to save her life seemed to have done a number on her. "That's what happens when one of the Four Lords of the Black God's valley deigns to rescue your town from monsters. You'd better get used to it."

"Did we rescue it?" Rose asked, her voice small.

Teodora's smile faded. She reached for the stone Heisenberg's hand and pulled down on it. With the grind of gears, the niche swung open, revealing a narrow passageway and a flight of steps beyond.

The door ground shut again behind them, trapping them all in a moment of absolute darkness. A moment later, and Teodora clicked on a flashlight, the beam illuminating stone walls for a few yards, then natural cave walls.

They began down; Rose's breath was visible in the air, the cold in here somehow deeper even than the night outside. She stuck one hand deep in her pocket, the other clutching her sword strap, as if to remind herself it was still there.

"Something happened after we left, didn't it?" she asked after a long stretch of silence.

"Doesn't it always?" Teodora's voice was weary. "We were peaceful, for a time. A long time. A year or so. I...changed. I became stronger...faster. My wounds healed within minutes. I prayed in thanks to all the saints before me that Lord Heisenberg gave me a piece of his gift. I could protect the town, now. Better than ever before."

"But?"

"The lycans...got worse." She lifted her head, the light glistening off her brittle gray curls. "Each winter, more of them. Bigger ones. Stranger. I tried to venture into the next valley, into the heart of their territory, see if there was an alpha I could kill, but...they were too strong for me. I had to retreat. If I died, who would protect the town?"

They reached an old wooden door. Teodora gave it a swift knock. "Open up," she said. "It's me. I brought guests."

The door swung wide, manned by a nervous-looking woman holding an old shotgun. Firelight spilled over Rose as she and the others stepped into the cavern beyond, vaulted chambers of stacked stone, braziers on pendulous chains hanging from the apex of their ceilings, filling the air with welcome heat.

A tomb of some sort, then; doorways led off into other chambers, other burial-vaults. Now, though, this place had become a refuge not for the dead, but for the living. The complex was filled with people, huddled around the braziers, laying on cots, busy at cookfires or mending or caring for wounded.

All were grimy, dressed in ragged clothes, eyes downcast and dull. An altar was set up in a corner, candles glimmering before painted icons, but no one was praying now. People looked up as Teodora entered; a few kissed their saints' medals, little coins of silver hung at their throats or wrists.

"Teodora," asked an old woman. "We heard howling. Is all well?"

"For now." She squeezed the old woman's hands. "I scared the lycans off. These people are-"

She glanced back at Rose as if trying to gauge whether or not she wanted her identity revealed. Rose gave her head a little shake.

"...travelers, Delia," Teodora went on. "They require our care and protection."

"They don't look like ordinary travelers," said a man with a mass of bloodied bandages taped over his eye.

"No one gets left to the lycans," Teodora snapped. "No one."

Rose stayed at the doorway, frozen. She tried to count the number of people in the room- thirty? Forty? There had been more than this in the churchyard alone after Lady Dimitrescu had flown off.

"Is this it?" she whispered.

Teodora glanced at her. "Yeah," she muttered.

"Wait." A woman with a baby crept closer. "You look...familiar."

"I-" Rose began.

"Yes," Delia said. She shuffled over. "Older, yes, but-"

"The holy child," whispered the woman with the baby. A little boy clung to her skirts, staring up at Rose with big eyes.

"I'm no holy child," Rose stammered, but before she could back off, more people were getting up, looking toward her.

"You and Lord Heisenberg warded off the great Lady of Blood, mad with grief," Delia said, her voice hushed and reverent. Rose's face flooded with heat. Teodora stood off to one side, watching Rose. "Where is Lord Heisenberg now? Will he come and bless us again with his power?"

"I-" Rose said.

She glanced at Teodora, who gave her head a small shake, much like Rose had just done for her.  Rose got it. These people were at the end of their rope. They wanted to believe Rose and Heisenberg were holy creatures, wanted to believe there was a power looking out for them. Who was Rose to take away that hope?

"Yes," she said at last. "Yes. He's...away, now. But I'm here." She lifted her head, looking into pair after pair of wide, frightened eyes, bright with desperation.

"I'm here," she said again. "Me and my...friends." She gestured to Chris, who cocked an eyebrow in return, and Donna, standing still as one of the painted icons, her pale face lovely in the firelight. "We...we won't let you down." "The saint has spoken," Teodora piped up. She stepped closer to Rose, dropping her voice so only she and Chris and Donna could hear. "C'mon. We've got food if you're hungry."

They passed through the crowd. The townsfolk bowed their heads, reached out to brush fingers against Teodora's lycan-fur mantle, Rose's sheathed sword. Chris politely waved away the hands outstretched to him, but Donna moved through the people like a specter, her spine ramrod-straight, her eye wide, as if in surprise.

Rose watched her as she passed through the crowd. Had she ever been regarded like this before? Had she ever been viewed as a marvelous being, or had she known nothing all her life but fear, both others' and her own?

They retreated to a collection of battered tables and chairs set up by the altar. Teodora brought over bowls of some kind of stew; Rose's stomach gave a hideous snarl as she realized just how starving she was. She couldn't make herself eat. Her guts chewed at themselves.

"Lycans did all that?" Chris was asking Teodora. He looked her up and down with suspicion- Rose wasn't surprised, considering just how obvious Teodora's mutation was. Rose had given him the rundown on her Cadou implantation, but, still, maybe he was expecting her to start drinking blood or vomiting slime. "Out there?"

Teodora nodded. She hadn't gotten a bowl of stew for herself; maybe there was something to the blood-drinking theory after all. "Year by year. Lots of folks hung on a while, thought they could fight off the raids. But- uh. They didn't last long."

"What about the catacombs under the church?"

"What do you think?" Teodora said. "They dug us out."

If we had stayed, if we had stuck around to protect them- Rose cut herself off. No; she couldn't think like that. She couldn't blame herself nor Heisenberg for moving on.

She hated herself for wanting to know, but she couldn't hold back.

"Is Emilia here?" she asked, tentative.

Donna's spoon stilled, midway through picking at her stew. Chris frowned. Teodora lowered her head.

"Oh, no," Rose whispered.

"She was part of the group who brought supplies in from the main road," Teodora said. "Too risky to leave in our full numbers, so we'd send out a small bunch to get the food and medicine we needed and bring it in. My sister, six years ago, she-" Her voice crumpled. "She didn't make it back."

"Your sister?" Chris echoed.

Teodora nodded.

"I'm sorry," Chris said. There was a pained look in his eyes; Rose wondered who it was he was thinking of. "I'm so, so sorry- agh-"

He winced. Teodora's head snapped up in alarm.

"Don't worry." Chris peeled up his trouser leg. His wound had begun to bleed again. "Must have gotten me deeper than I thought."

Chris's med-injector had stopped the worst of the bleeding, stopped, according to him, any chance of mutamycete infection and subsequent lycan transformation. Still, a mauling was a mauling, and they had to get mobile by morning.

Teodora got out her med kit, removing the pertinent items with care from a carved wooden box. "Let me get that closed up-"

"Let me."

Teodora jumped a little as Donna spoke. It was the first time she had done so in Teodora's presence. Donna paused before taking the curved needle and gut thread from Teodora's hand and immediately bent to Chris's leg.

"I am sorry if this stings," she told Chris before setting to work.

Donna Beneviento sewed the finest and most meticulous stitches Rose had ever seen. She began to hum as she worked, a song Rose recognized from her high school foreign-language classes- Promenons-nous dans les bois. Spooky, in this context. Let's stroll in the woods if the wolf is not here. Her eye flicked up and caught Rose watching.

Rose gave her a little smile, the most she could muster. After a beat, Donna gave her one in return.

"So," Teodora said. "Why are you here, then, if it's not my rifle you're after?"

Rose drew a breath. Her eyes were warm, but she made her voice stay steady. "You said the lycan attacks got worse."

"Right."

"Did anything else ever attack? Any old friends?"

"You mean the Lady of Blood," Teodora said. "Don't you."

The shadows seemed to pull in; maybe it was Rose's imagination, but the conversation throughout the rest of the refugee vaults died down a little, as if everyone had quieted down to listen. The veins of crystal on Teodora's face crackled a little as she set her jaw.

"Lady Dimitrescu," Rose said. "Yeah."

"She never attacked again. Never stole another girl. But after she flew off, I tracked her down. I wanted to keep tabs on her in case she ever decided leveling the town once just wasn't enough."

"So you know where she is?"

"Yes," Teodora said, cautiously. "Why do you want to know?"

Rose glanced at Donna, finishing up Chris's leg. "Feel better?" Angie chattered, pressing her nose up against the clear dome in her backpack.

"A lot," Chris said. He paused. "...Thanks."

Donna nodded, prim.

"Because this is Donna Beneviento," Rose said. "Of House Beneviento. One of the Four Lords of the Valley."

Teodora snorted. "You're kidding. Her?"

"She look any less lordly than Heisenberg?"

"Kind of, yeah. Heisenberg had..."

She paused for a long time, her face a little flushed between the veins of crystal splitting her skin.

"Presence," she said at last.

"Okay, sure, but-" Rose took a short breath. Her heartbeat sloshed in her ears. Here goes. "Donna has the Cadou, same as he does. And she's agreed to help us. Now, she's not exactly the fighting type, but Dimitrescu is, without a doubt. If I can get her on our side, we stand a chance against Ouroboros, and against the lycans overrunning the village."

Teodora looked dumbfounded. "And once you awaken the Lady of Blood, you expect Beneviento to convince her to help you? Seriously?"

"Yes," Donna said.

She straightened from Chris's suture, her delicate fingers spotted with blood. Slowly, she reached up to the eyepatch covering her mutation and pulled it aside. Tentacles writhed; flesh pulsated, slowly and sickeningly. Angie tittered inside the backpack, the sound raspy and sinister as the scrape of porcelain against porcelain.

Donna replaced the patch.

"I am a Lord," she said, simply. "As much as my siblings. And I wish to see my brother safe again, the same as Rosemary. You understand, in the last moments of my life, I thought my siblings would follow my fate, would die with me. Now I learn some of them didn't. And...to them...I want to make amends for our mother's actions."

She took a short breath.

"If it will see my family reunited," she went on, "there is nothing I will not do."

She fell silent once more, dabbing Chris's suture with herbal paste.

Chris, for his part, gave a shrug. "You heard the lady."

Rose looked at Teodora with brows raised. Teodora ran her hand over her mouth, her eyes lowered. At last, she gave a small sigh.

"Hell, I'd give anything to see this over," she said. "We leave at dawn."

***

Rose found Donna in one of the distant chambers of the tomb, far from the central room with its relative bustle. She stood before one of the many altars, fussy with wreaths of dried flowers and garlic braids, framed icons of saints and far too many candles. Donna stood with Angie in her arms. The doll was still for the moment, candlelight glimmering off her porcelain skin.

"You guys okay?" Rose asked.

"Shhh," Angie hissed. "Donna's doing some thinking."

"Oh." Rose came to stand by her side. She held her tongue for approximately thirty seconds before- "About what?"

"She made us hate each other," Donna whispered. "Because she could. Because it was...easier to control us that way. She told me...she told me she was...protecting me. Making me afraid of them all. So I wouldn't get hurt again. I had suffered enough, she said..."

"Miranda?"

A small nod. "She said I should...hide away...like I used to hide in cupboards...here comes the wolf, papa said, he's going to eat you, mama said...when they were gone I hid the dolls but it was never the same. I knew where they all were."

"Alci and Sal and Karl would have eaten Donna alive if not for Miranda," Angie said, matter-of-factly.

"That's what she told me." Donna's eye reflected the flames, shifting colors in its dark depths. "But Heisenberg never hurt me, I said. That's because he's patient, Miranda said. He'll come back for you. In the end."

She lifted her hand. In it rested a scrap of yellow silk ribbon, embroidered with flowers. It was exquisite, so finely-done the colors seemed to shimmer, the stitches indistinguishable. Something she made, undoubtedly.

"And now..." Donna said.

She fell silent. Rose came around to lean against the altar, to look her in the face. "Now?" she prompted.

"I told the others I can help. Those people believe I can. What if I can't?" She looked at Rose, worry in her single eye. "What if Alcina does not listen to me?"

"Then we're all screwed," Rose told her. "Listen...whatever happens, I'm not gonna abandon you. I won't let you down like that. Okay?"

"Really?"

"Yeah. Really."

A hint of a smile. "Thank you, Rosemary," Donna said. A hesitation, and then she set the ribbon with its beautiful flowers upon the altar.

"Look," she said, her voice soft.

Rose looked. Amidst the other icons rendered in rich shades of blue and gold stood a pair hinged together, like a book. On one was painted Heisenberg cradling little Rose, the two of them haloed in stylized bolts of lightning. On the other was Teodora, a rifle over her shoulder, black tears dripping down her mournful face.

These people had taken them for saints, once. The Lord who sang to metal, the girl with a god in her head, the warding saint who had died for them and returned anew. They had come, when all seemed lost.

Now, they'd come again.

Whatever had happened, whatever horrors had occurred here in their absence, she'd leave this place better than she'd found it. She couldn't be cowed by despair. Not now.

"You feel like getting some sleep?" she asked Donna.

"No."

"Me neither."

A pause. "Will you tell me another story?"

"Sure, Donna. What do you want to hear?"

"Something with a happy ending. Something where everything will be all right."

"I..." Rose sniffed and shook her head. "I don't know any like that."

"Then tell me later," Donna said. "When you do."

Footsteps echoed off the rough stone walls. Rose turned to see Chris approach and give a little cough.

"I want to speak to Rose," he said. "Alone, please."

Donna nodded, then left, skirting Chris's massive form in the doorway. After a pause, he moved into the vault. He examined the icons on the altar, then leaned against a wall, watching the crowd in the main room as the townsfolk began to bed down for the night. He got out a pack of nicotine gum and peeled a piece free of its foil.

"First green tea, now gum?" Rose said. "You're really trying to kick the habit."

"Yeah, well, I, unlike some, don't have regenerating lungs."

"Nice frown," Rose told him.

He gave her a flat look. "These people worship the monsters," he muttered. Teodora moved throughout the room, stopping to kneel by a child's bedside, speak softly to one of the wounded. Somewhere, someone was singing, a soft, eerie song in no language Rose recognized. "They follow her like some kind of savior."

"She is some kind of savior."

"She has the Cadou, doesn't she?"

Rose paused. "And?"

"The only supply of them I saw was a shelf of 'em in Miranda's lab and one specimen in Moreau's nasty little rec room. Those things were supposed to be destroyed in the explosion that took out the megamycete. All of them. How the hell did she-"

"Heisenberg cut a chunk off his Cadou and stuck it inside her to save her life after she got fatally stabbed by her mutated little sister who'd been transformed into a surrogate daughter-puppet by Lady Dimitrescu fifteen years ago," Rose said in a rush. "Basically."

"Right," Chris said.

"Clearly, it worked out and didn't kill her or turn her into a lycan. Why the hell should you care?"

She knew why, and she knew he knew, but Chris wasn't about to give up on a chance to give her a lecture. "It's been my life's work to eliminate and contain bioweapons the world over," he said. "I've been betrayed over these things, over power, prestige."

The candlelight moved in his eyes, throwing darts of gold through them. "Been forced to witness such terrible things done along the way. I've seen so many people hurt. So many dead. Friends...people I thought were friends. And always, always, monsters. It's been...a long time since the first. Too goddamn long. And now-"

He stopped.

"Now," Rose supplied, "you're working with them?"

"Basically," Chris echoed, gently teasing.

She lightly kicked his ankle, making sure not to jog his wound. "How's your leg? Donna's stitches too scary for you?"

"Rose..." He let out his breath, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "She'll have to be contained after this is over. All of them will. You understand that, right? I have to let the BSAA know what's happened up here."

"Yeah, I figured."

"Are you gonna stop me?"

Rose looked up at him. He looked, levelly, back.

"No," she said at last.

"I'm counting on that, Winters."

"I know you are, Redfield. I'd expect nothing less."

***

Morning came, bleak and gray-gold, the first of the dim winter sunrise stretching pale fingers across the landscape. Far away, Rose could make out the curtains of snow that signaled another oncoming blizzard, but for now the air was clear, the crunch and snap of snow under her boots the loudest sound in the world.

She kept her grip tight on her sword's strap, kept close to Donna. Even Angie stayed unnaturally-quiet, curled up in her backpack as if against the piercing cold. Chris backed the group, while Teodora hiked ahead, her lycan-skull mask and fur hood once again in place. With them on, Rose would catch a glimpse of her out of the corner of her eye and flinch, thinking one of the monsters had come for them again.

"Relax," Teodora said, when she caught her doing this. "They don't like to come out in the daylight."

"I know that. I guess I'm just on edge."

"Considering who you're hunting down, you'd have to be touched in the head not to be." Rose caught a glimmer of green through the skull's eye sockets as Teodora looked her up and down. "Nice sword, by the way."

"Oh- yeah, thanks, I'm...not great with guns, and my mold powers don't always work the way I want them to." She reached up to touch the hilt. "Figured slicing and dicing does the trick just as well."

"Heh. We'll have to add it to your icon on the altar."

"Shut up," Rose muttered. "I'm not a saint, okay?"

"I get it. It's a heavy burden, belief." She nodded at the sword. "You must understand. That's made from the hammer, isn't it?"

"Yeah. Well. One of them. He'd bust them up, remake them over the years. But..."

"It's like having a part of someone still with you."

"Pretty much."

She couldn't see it, but from the sound of her voice, Rose guessed Teodora had given her a soft smile. "Way he was around you, even back then...yeah, he'd be proud. Might have wanted to throttle him the whole time I was around him, but he loved you."

Rose's throat tightened. She looked down at the snow.

"How the hell do you do it?" she said.

"What?"

"Keep fighting, when everything's crumbling down around you. I'm..." She drew an unsteady breath. "I can't..."

She trailed off. After a moment, Teodora's gloved hand settled on her shoulder.

"Let's keep moving," she said.

As sunrise strengthened into day, they hiked through scrubby woods, fields of boulders like looming giants, crowned with the broken ruins of ancient towers, with statues of unknown gods and unknown saints standing sentinel against the lightening sky.

Around daybreak they crossed a great, frozen river, spray lunging against jagged rocks standing from the surface of the dark water like the teeth of some great beast. Teodora balanced on the rocks, leaping from point to point, nimble as a deer. Rose and the others took a little more time while she stood guard, rifle lifted, sweeping the mist in case they were followed.

They broke through the treeline somewhere during midmorning, the sun hidden behind descending snowclouds, the cold sharpening to a point. Each inhale seared Rose's lungs; she buried her face in her scarf. The expanse of mountainside before them was a clean stretch of snow and dark seams of rock, the mist rolling down from higher up, so that the valley below was soon hidden in dense, pale fog.

All sound rang back muffled; Rose's breathing seemed too-close, the crunch of the group's feet in the snow overloud in this weird hush.

"This is great," Chris muttered.

"She's close," Donna whispered, leaning in to Rose.

"Huh?" Rose stammered.

"Quiet."

This was Teodora. She stood stock-still in the mist, her hand raised, the other poised at a hunting knife in her belt.

"Follow me," she said. "Single file. Don't make any excess noise."

"Were we tailed?" Chris muttered.

Teodora shook her head. "It's not the lycans I'm worried about now."

Rose's pulse began to pound. It grew stronger as they approached a cluster of rocks ahead. Amidst them: a cleft in the rocks, a great, icicle-hung cave mouth that gaped in the snowy landscape like a wound in reality, its interior so dark she could not see in more than a few inches. Frigid air breathed over them as they approached, as they stood on the threshold of that darkness, unmoving, staring into its depths.

"In there?" Donna whispered.

"Yep," Teodora said. "Everyone, remember what I said. Quiet. We don't want to wake anything up."

"Wait," Rose said.

The others looked at her. Chris's frown was so deep she could have lost pennies in the lines on his forehead. "What's wrong?" he said.

"Nothing. I-" She drew a short breath. "You two wait out here. Okay?"

"What the hell, Rose?" Chris stepped forward.

"Chris, trust me. She won't respond to you or to Teo. Us though?" She reached out and took Donna's hand. "We can do this."

Teodora settled back on her heels. "Hey, I believe it," she told Chris. "Have you seen the stuff this little girl can do? Wild."

Chris's eyes were full of desperation, wild with a kind of loss of control. He was fighting with himself, Rose saw- with the truth of what she was saying and his own natural instinct to keep her safe, to fulfill his duties to her parents.

At last he let out his breath, his eyes sliding shut. "The second I hear anything," he told her, "I'm coming in."

"Okay. Sure."

"And take this." He thrust a flashlight at her. "In case. You don't want to get caught in the dark."

"Thanks." Rose glanced at Donna, who stared ahead, her face rigid, her single eye bright with fear. It would be fine. It would be fine.

And if it wasn't-

Well, they'd just have to battle a huge freaking vampiric dragon, now, wouldn't they?

With a squeeze of Donna's sweaty hand in her own, Rose stepped over the threshold of the cave, into the darkness beyond.

[thisfairytalegonebad]

“It’s not heavy. I’m stronger than I look.” - Gladio & Prompto, roadtrip

After over a year: Prompt #22 of the Love List!

Read below the cut or on AO3 here

“Are you sure you got this?” Gladio asked, eyebrow raised as he watched Prompto struggle to pull their camping gear from the car. “It’s not gonna rain tonight, we can just sleep under the stars.”

“I got it!” Prompto snapped, grinding his teeth in a rare display of annoyance - a testament to how long a day they’d all had. “It’s not heavy. I’m stronger than I look! It’s just stuck.”

As if Gladio didn’t know exactly how heavy their stuff was, given that he was usually the one lugging it around.

“Alright, I’m sorry,” Gladio said, figuring he didn’t need to rile Prompto up any more. “Here, let me see where it’s stuck.”

Prompto grumbled a little under his breath but moved to let Gladio peer into the trunk.

“Should come free now if you give it a good tug”, Gladio said, pushing down on the gear with his uninjured arm while Prompto pulled so it didn’t get caught again.

Indeed, this time, Prompto pulled it free with ease, lifted it out of the trunk with a little less ease, and carried it towards the haven with - well, actually, he wasn’t struggling nearly as much as Gladio had expected. Huh. All the training and now real-life combat seemed to pay off after all.

Gladio shut the trunk and followed, deciding not to mention the way Prompto swayed a little under the weight. They’d had a long day, and Prompto, though uninjured, had to be exhausted like the rest of them. This wasn’t the time for jokes at his expense.

Back at the haven, Gladio checked in with the other two. Noct, spread out on the ground and already asleep, was doing alright but had no intention of moving anytime soon, as half-coherently managed to inform Gladio when prodded awake. At least he wasn’t injured, but having pushed himself to the point of stasis, chances were Noct was going to spend the next 24 hours reenacting Sleeping Beauty.

Ignis sat next to Noct, head no longer bleeding thanks to the bandages they’d wrapped him up with, but he was definitely still dazed and was slow to react when Gladio nudged him gently. He did, however, answer any typical post-head-injury question Gladio threw at him, which had to be enough. Not good, definitely worrying that he wasn’t up and about and trying to cook at all, but all things considered, this was probably as good as he was going to be until they got a potion into him.

Once he was neither of his friends was on the brink of death just yet, Gladio unfolded two camping chairs for him and Prompto and deposited them by the fireplace.

…the fireplace, which was distinctly lacking a fire, would continue to lack a fire if he didn’t think of a way to start one that didn’t require the use of two hands like his trusty flintstone did.

Gladio sighed, making a mental note to finally teach the others how to start a fire once everyone was back on their feet.

They’d told him the story of how they’d nearly burnt down their tent trying to start a fire by tossing a firaga flask at the firewood when he had been away challenging Gilgamesh. He had laughed at them back then, mental image too funny to not grill them about every chance he got. Prompto and/or Noctis respectively, or maybe collectively, coming up with an idea like that was funny enough but not very surprising, but what made it truly hilarious was that Ignis had actually let them do it.

…though it looked like Gladio was forced to admit that maybe the idea wasn’t terrible, it was just the execution that sucked big time.

Mind made up, he wandered off the rock and to one of the elemental deposits just below the haven.

He had never been the most gifted at using magic and later had mostly given up on it as both Noct and Ignis were more than proficient in its usage. Still, he had undergone the basic training and retained enough from it to know what he was doing as he pulled an empty flask from the armiger and focused on the Crystal’s pulsing magic.

The result was a laughably weak fire spell, one that would’ve barely singed the hairs off a voretooth’s back if applied in battle, but that, at the very least, meant that he wasn’t very likely to burn their tent down tonight.

Gladio climbed back up the haven, made sure Prompto was properly busy with the tent and tossed the flask into the firewood as carefully as possible.

The flask exploded with more force than planned, but the wood was on fire and his eyebrows were still intact, and he didn’t think anyone had witnessed him using the very same trick he’d given the others shit for.

Content with himself, he wandered over to Prompto, who was struggling to put up the tent by himself but handled himself pretty impressively once Gladio held the poles for him.

Once the tent was standing, Prompto threw himself down next to the fire, groaning dramatically as he spread out like a starfish.

“That’s it, I’m done for today.”

Gladio grinned. “Guess dinner’s up to me, then?”

“Yep. About time you pulled your weight, big guy,” Prompto said, rolling over to go poke at Noct.

Noct, no more coherent than the last time they’d managed to wake him up, declined the offer of dinner with a mumble neither of them could quite make out, but the fact that he fell right back asleep two seconds later spoke for itself.

Ignis, who was awake but still dazed, turned fairly green at the very idea of having to eat anything, so Gladio just made him drink some water before helping him lie down inside the tent.

After a moment of consideration, Gladio resorted to just dragging Noct into the tent by his ankle, earning himself a weak scolding from Ignis and zero reaction from the Prince himself.

“Guess it’s just us for dinner,” Gladio said, nudging Prompto with his boot. “How do you feel about Cup Noodles?”

“Not quite my idea of a romantic dinner for two, but alright,” Prompto sighed, finally hauling himself into a sitting position. “How’s your arm?”

Gladio moved the arm experimentally, range of motion restricted by both the bandages and the sling it was resting in. “Definitely felt better. Think the wrist is broken and the rest is bruised to hell and back, but at least it doesn’t seem like anything’s out of place. Really can’t wait to get my hands on a potion, though.”

The problem with relying on potions was that you kind of forgot how to deal with pain and, more importantly, the restrictions that came with being injured. More than once since they’d made camp, Gladio had instinctively attempted to use his arm and immediately regretted it as his body informed him just why that was a terrible idea. They definitely had to be more careful in the future; today had been a close call Gladio’d rather not repeat anytime soon.

That said, Prompto had handled himself and his incapacitated friends remarkably, and Gladio was determined to let him know as much.

“You did good today,” he said, pouring the water over the noodles and handing one cup to Prompto.

Prompto immediately got that deer-in-the-headlight look on his face, the one that appeared every time he was complimented. Maybe they should compliment him more, Gladio thought. Get him used to it.

“You mean that?!”

“Sure. Fighting, but also picking up the slack when the rest of us was out of commission.” Prompto had, after all, jumped into the driver’s seat without hesitation and absolutely floored it to get as much distance between them and the Red Giant that had materialized out of nowhere, and then continued to drive them to the nearest haven, dodging daemons and imperial troopers alike.

“Think we should let you drive more often.”

“That’s what I’m saying!” Prompto exclaimed. “I’m a great driver, you guys are just mean!”

“Eh, I wouldn’t say you’re a great driver… but you’re not entirely terrible. Tell you what, I’ll put in a word for you next time.”

Prompto toasted at Gladio with his noodles. “I’ll hold you to that!”

--

Read the entire “100 Ways to Say I Love You” project on AO3.

[chronal-anomaly]

@quick-drawn asked:

"Alright, think you're jus' 'bout ready then." There's a grin partially hidden in his features — he wasn't particularly feeling the best today, probably the worst of the week actually...but her excitement proved a bit CONTAGIOUS. He made Lena a PROMISE. So long as she managed to pass her permit test today, he'd let her on the bike. And when Jesse makes a promise, he keeps it.

It wasn't exactly the class bike you'd expect to see her on, and it was definitely a bit overweight for her size — but if she learned to handle this thing, she could handle ANYTHING. So it's with that partial smile he stood at the front of the bike, leaning to the handlebars as he straddled the wheel in preparation for her to attempt a LIFT.

"That book I gave ya — you read it? Front t'back?"

Lena had worked hard at being patient.

The pair were in the midst of their training when his accident happened, Lena finally learning how to shift through gears without stalling and getting up to speed comfortable. Speed being, of course, a comfortable 30 miles per hour, but everyone had to start somewhere. Her graduation to solo trips and eventually, a bike of her own, lurked just on the horizon as their trainings progressed.

It had given a certain light to her, a purpose to keep fighting when everything seemed a little too dark. She treated each lesson as an opportunity for speed, a chance to press the miles between her and that wretched isolation chamber. So many nights were spent after dinner and the day's jobs were done, cruising around the flat lot behind the base with Lena becoming more and more confident every day.

But nothing good could last. Jesse's injury had interrupted everything, grinding progress to a halt across the board. Blackwatch had their own upheaval over the loss, and Lena's time switched from dutiful hours beneath the setting sun to rambling with Jesse about things that really didn't mean anything. Their roles switched as easily as anything, the diligent friend and the survivor, seeking out a reason to continue.

Neither spoke about his bike sat collecting dust in the garage.

He had finally made enough progress to escape the unending hum of the medical ward, cleared on low-activity leave for the time being. Lena had resisted pressing, the question clearly burning a hole somewhere between where her ribcage started and her lungs ended. But still, she stayed the angsty spirit, choosing instead to wait until the day of her permit.

The test had been easy enough - after all, Lena learned from the best - on a bike much smaller than Jesse's. Her trip back to base felt faster than life, watching trees fly by so the pair could celebrate the next win together.

"Front to back, three times!" The piece of paper announcing her status trembled with her excitement. His weariness was missed by the hyperactive woman, focused on her own success, her own mark of freedom against the world that dared to wrong her.

"Can't stop me now! Ha!" Wary of his arm - or lack thereof - Lena pulled him into a tight hug. The time for tears had passed, adrenaline sidling in instead, but her appreciation was there nonetheless.

"Thank you."

The moment concluded, Lena pulled back with that contagious grin on her face. She rounded the bike, appreciating the smooth angles and glossy finish that had been scratched only a few times during the learning process.

The lift was touch-and-go for a second, Lena teetering against the weight of the bike. It weighed four times what she did, but that didn't stop her from hauling it level with a resolute expression. Once established, her balance maintained easily and Lena pumped her fist excitedly.

"Yeah! See, I knew I could do it!" Now all she had to do was ride it.

[ambrosiasaladofthebrain]

Chapter 5: Into the Ant Hill

“You’ll be placed in a room until someone can be sent to investigate you.” The woman’s soft voice echoed as the sound of gears and grinding repeated behind them now. 

Jake could hear her voice bounce off what seemed like rock walls. How he came to that conclusion, he didn’t really know. He could hear Wonbe’s footsteps beside him hit the ground, it sounded so much more confident than Jake’s stuttering, stumbling, shamble. He could hear another set of footsteps besides theirs as well. Someone who had not yet spoken seemed to be walking behind them. 

Jake realized that this meant he was now surrounded on both sides. He couldn’t go forwards or backwards now, he could only go where they wanted him to. Was that on purpose? Probably, Wonbe had mentioned their heightened paranoia. But how was he supposed to run if he needed to?

Just as the panic started to take control the procession stopped and a door was opened.

“In here.” The woman directed, “You can set him down in the interview chair.”

“Alright, thank you.” Wonbe said before directing his voice towards Jake, “Sorry if the chairs cold, it’s metal.”

Before he could answer Jake was set in the chair, which luckily wasn’t as cold as he had been expecting.

“You’re free to go for a debriefing now.” The woman said, seeming to talk to Wonbe, still standing at the doorway.

“Is it possible that I can stay with him for the interview?” Wonbe asked.

“Why would you want to do that?”

“Its just that I promised to stay with him.”

“And why would you do that?”

“He was panicking at the time and I thought it would help.”

“Did it?”

“Yes, I think so.”

“Mh.” There was a moment of silence before she spoke again. “Maybe he wanted you to say that.”

“Uh, I, don’t know why he would?”

“I don’t claim to know how outsiders think. I just know they’re always plotting something.”

“Ah.”

“You can stay here but be aware that this room is being recorded, and anything you say will be reviewed. Also, you know from experience how hard it can be to get out of here once the door is locked, so if you’re going to stay make sure your sure of it.”

“I am sure.”

“Ok. Mr. Ramona will be here shortly, as well as Ms. Ramona.”

“This isn’t their district though?”

“They have the classifications needed for an interview and they have connections with you therefore it’s more logical for them to be here. You need to check in with your guardian as soon as possible anyway, this is killing two birds with one stone for you.”

“Ok.” Wonbe said in a defeated tone.

“They will be here shortly. Goodbye.”

“Can he take off the blindfold?”

It was silent a moment and Jake thought maybe the woman had left already but she gave a yes before the sound of a door shutting and locking in place followed and Jake sighed in relief.

“That didn’t actually go that badly.” Wonbe said, untying Jake’s blindfold and stuffing it back into his bag.

Jake drank in his surroundings as quickly as he could. Careful to not choke on the information as it processed. 

Directly in front of him was a metal table with handcuffs chained to a little bar. Two more metal chairs and beehind that was a mirror. Jake bypassed this for a moment, intent to not look at his own face just yet.

The walls were made of rock and there were four cameras blinking red at him. One in each corner. The only door in the room was a large metal thing with multiple locks and no window. The floor was rock as well and Jake wondered if the room was carved out it or if whoever had placed the substance was just good at their job. 

Jake inhaled, content with his review of the room. He looked at his hands, scratching at the scratches knitting along them then tracing the starburst scars along his right knuckle. Following the smaller scars up his arm. 

“He-” Jake began, looking up then catching the beginning of the mirror he shot his eyes down towards Wonbe’s shoes that swung slightly from where he was sitting on the table next to Jake. “Hey, uh, how long will this take?”

“Well,” Wonbe’s left leg swung in thought, “if you answer the questions with no preamble, maybe an hour?”

“An hour?”

“Give or take. It can be short but depending on how you answer they might ask different questions.”

“When will we be able t’look fer my sister?”

“As soon as my watam charges.” Wonbe waved his arm with something black on his wrist in the corner of Jake's eyes, then realizing Jake wasn’t looking up, jumped off the table and crouched into his line of sight. Jake started to pick at his nails, under the sparkling eyed stare.

“Here,” Wonbe picked up Jake’s chair, with Jake still in it, and rounded the table, “This side’s more comfortable, the light just sorta hits different.” He kicked away the other two chairs that clanged against the ground a moment making Jake wince before he was placed down again. “Much better right?”

Jake looked up at the mirrorless wall in front of him, the light didn’t really look all that much different, fluorescent lights weren’t really his thing though so he doubted he’d like them in any angle. “Yeah, it is.” He smiled anyway.

“Anyways, yeah, once I get my watam charged I can start looking for her online. Once your interview is done they’ll ask if there’s anything they can do to help most likely. Then you can ask about your sister.”

“Ok.”

It was silent a moment before Jake couldn't fight the urge anymore; “What’s a watam?” He burst, the question had been bothering him since the second time it had been brought up but apparently it could connect to the internet and it sounded similar to how someone would talk about a phone. Jake didn’t want to be annoying by asking stupid questions but he really wanted to know.

“This,” Wonbe smiled like it wasn’t a problem, and displayed his right arm. On his wrist, like a large watch, was an odd device. It was a wide oval screen on a black band. The band had a thin green line and a thick red line separated by black on the outer edge but in all it looked like a fancy, large watch. 

“It does everything a phone would but it’s on my wrist. I don’t know if they use them in the enclosures but everyone uses them in the woods. I think they were made to be able to work through the dust.”

“But the dust makes communicating long rang difficult. That's why there’s no service outside the domes. Anyone who goes outside loses all contact.”

“Mh, no. It makes long distance hard, but like, loong, long distance. From one side of America to the next is fine. America to uh, the end of Canada is tricky though. Anyways that is why watams are made to have stronger signals.”

Jake scrunched his brows, “Akuno always said that making a signal strong enough wasn’t possible.”

Wonbe snorted, “Yeah, well, that was a lie.”

Jake glared at him a moment before looking back at the watam. There must be a reason Akuno wouldn’t have mentioned these. Then again, if time really had passed it was possible that these just came out after his… memory lapse, and everyone had one back home now.  

“But yeah,” Wonbe slipped the screen off the band seamlessly and dropped it on the table. “Normally it has a hologram feature which is why it’s watam. It’s a watch hologram.”

“Really! Really?” Jake quickly fixed his volume, not meaning to be so loud in his excitement, “Last I’d seen only fancier districts ‘ad ‘olograms. Are’ya sayin’ that they’re commonplace now!”

“Heh, ‘olograms.” Wonbe giggled.

Jake glared at him, “ Oh I am so sorry your highness, is this better for you?” he mimicked Wondbe’s posh and polished accent, reminding himself of Joy mimicking Amanda for a moment.

Wonbe looked at him a moment and instantly Jake froze. Maybe he shouldn’t have done that. Mimicking someone’s accent, especially someone from a higher district was really rude. He might be upset that a lower class citizen was mocking him. Maybe he should tense his muscles, just in case-

Wondbe giggling at him, “Sorry, was that supposed to be me?” He laughed, a crystal thing that echoed along the walls and made Jake smile, releasing his tensed muscles. Ok, he had been right in assuming he could mock him back, good, cool.

The door clicked as Wonbe continued to laugh, opening on a woman who looked absolutely shell shocked at the sight in front of her.  

“What. The. Hell.” She uttered as a man that looked similar to her pushed her into the room so he could enter as well. Upon entering he looked confused a moment before scrunching his face in distaste and slamming the door closed.

Jake jolted upright as it clicked shut and Wonebe jumped off the table, quitting instantly to stand behind Jake. It almost felt like he was trying to hide behind Jake but he was far too tall and Jake was more like a bush than a wall for him. 

“How did you do that?” The woman asked, quickly grabbing one of the upturned chairs from the floor and placing it on the other side of the table. She fell into the chair, looking at Jake in anticipation.

“Wha- I.” He started in confusion. What had he done? What was she talking about? Had he done something. He watched in panicked confusion as the man slowly followed his companion with an annoyed glare, picking up the other chair, slinging a bag off his back, tossing the chair next to the other and dropping down, never taking his glare off Jake who could feel the room heat up.

“I mean, in all the years I’ve known him, I’ve never seen that!” The woman exclaimed, waving a hand at Wonbe who looked at her, unimpressed. 

“I’ve laughed before.” He said, crossing his arms.

“Not like that you haven’t!”

Wonbe rolled his eyes and looked at the man who had a similar unimpressed look with his arms crossed as well. The two actually looked a little similar now that Jake looked.

“You need a soul to really laugh.” The man rumbled, “And yer missing one so,” he shrugged.

Wonbe huffed, “Whatever. This is Jake Lunes, he’s looking for his sister.”

Jake gave a small wave, looking at the lady’s black tablet. She waved back, which Jake thought was nice of her. 

“Hi Jake, how’re you?”

“Uh,” Her accent was different than Wonbe’s, come to think of it, everyone here had a similar accent but Wondbe’s was different, was his considered odd here as well or- oh wait, he was supposed to answer her. “I'm good,” he said on instinct. That was actually very not true, he really wanted to scream and run in a circle or smash buttons until something made sense but it was polite to say he was good because people didn’t actually ask because they cared but to be nice. They just wanted to look good and hear a positive response. 

Wonbe and the angry man cocked their heads at Jake like they were judging that answer and didn’t believe him but the woman just smiled at him. It was a closed off and somewhat fake thing that reminded Jake of the caseworker that had talked to him That Day. Come to think of it, the room was similar to this one too.

“That’s good to hear. I’m Mary and this is my brother Greg. We’re just going to ask you some questions, ok?”

“Ok.”

“Firstly, what’s your full name?”

“Jake Lunes.”

The woman opened her mouth as if to say more when Jake remembered he probably had to include his middle name again, even though he didn’t really know it. “E. Jake E Lunes., I don’t know my actual middle name, sorry, I just know it started with an E.”

“How do you not know your own name?” Greg asked him impatiently. 

“Greg.” Mary reprimanded but Greg waved her off.

“No, really, it’s a middle name, how can you know the rest of yer name and not that?”

“Many people go a long time without needing to think about their middle name.” Mary advised.

Greg just huffed in annoyance, glaring at Jake like he was causing an issue. Maybe he was. These people surely had other things to do. They probably didn’t want to be here dealing with him and his issues. He should make sure to thank them for their help afterwards. 

“Jake, E. Lunes,” Mary mumbled as she wrote it down on her tablet before looking back up to Jake, “And how old are you Jake?”

Jake looked at Wonbe, who had migrated to the far left corner behind the two adults. Wonbe shrugged, lifting his hands in a nonchalant manner. Jake scrunched his brows in slight annoyance. That wasn’t useful in any way, should he say what was most accurate? What was most accurate? The last thing he remembered was being 13 but why would Wonbe lie about the date. To make him panic? To throw him off for some reason?

If Wonbe was telling the truth about the date then he was somehow 24 but he didn’t feel 24. Then again, he’d never been 24 before so he didn’t know what it was supposed to feel like.

“Hello?” Greg snapped his fingers in front of Jake’s face, making him flinch back, into his chair wich clanged against his back in an aggressive fashion, making him flinch forwards again before wincing in embarrassment and trying to shrink into himself and ignore the fresh pain in his ankle.

“Greg.” Mary chastised, pushing his hand down and giving him a disappointed look. “Sorry, are you ok?”

Jake nodded, looking at his entwined fingers with fake interest.

“How old are you dear?” Mary asked again.

“Well,” Jake started, looking at Mary's nose, then Greg’s furrowed brows, “The thing is, I don’ really know. Cause, see, I thought it was 3158 but apparently that’s wong so…”

Greg tilted his head, squinting at Jake like he’d somehow offended him; “Why’d you think it was 3158?”

“Well- cause, the las’ thin’ I remember was the night before, well, not the night before, but, my night before. An’ that was in 3158.”  

“The last thing you remember?” Mary asked.

“Yeah, last night I fell asleep in my sisters bed at the hospital in District 20. It was 3158 March 17.”  

Greg leaned fowards, tilting his head, “That was 11  years ago.”

“I know- I know that, but that’s what I remember, I was 13 then so I would be 24 now but I don’t feel 24. But I also don’t know what it means to feel like a 24 year old.”

Jake could feel himself getting louder as he spoke and closed his mouth with a click and a swallow. Pressing his lips into a thin line.

“Well you don’t look 24,” Mary began, writing something down, “but you also don’t look 13, have you looked at a mirror or anything yet?” Jake shook his head, watching her hand move over the tablet. “Would you like to look at the one behind you?”

Jake scrunched his brows, biting his lip as he looked up at her. “Do I have to?” He almost whispered.

She looked at him with something like pity, or maybe it was understanding? Her eyebrows shifted down and she had a sad look in her smile and eyes. So maybe it was pity.

“That’s ok, you probably wouldn’t be able to tell just by looking anyways. We can get a test done later to figure it out. So let me see if I’ve got this right, you went to bed in a hospital in District 20, age 13. Then you woke up today with no memory of the past 11 years.”

“Yes.”

“And where did you wake up?”

“In the forest.”

“Do you remember where in the forest?”

“Near a gate? It was an abandoned town.”

Greg and Mary shared an odd glance. 

“What kind of town?” Greg asked.

“It jus’, was really weird I guess? There was this really big wall, an’ a thick steel gate. All the buildin;s inside were square n’ separated at an equal length from one another an’ they ‘ad bars on the windows. There was scorch marks n’ uh, I think splatters of blood in some places? I don’t actually know if that’s right though.”

Mary’s smile faded into a concerned frown before she quickly started to write something down.

“Do you know if there was any code or something on the wall?” Greg asked as Mary continued to write.

“Well,” Jake tried to think, recalling the image of the wall back. 

“How’s he supposed to remember a code?” Mary asked indignantly, still not looking up from whatever she was doing.

Jake tuned out whatever Greg’s response was. He hadn’t really looked for a code on the wall in the moment so he couldn’t really just remember it as easily as he’d like. But he remembered the feeling of long soft grass under his feet, the cool concrete under his hand. The wall was grey and nature had started to grow wherever it could take hold. There had been something red near the entrance, peeling and somewhat chipped, a code: 5c001, that’s what it read, or at least used to say, if Jake had to guess.

“5c001.” Jake informed, accidentally interrupting Mary and Greg’s argument by the sound of it.

Both froze as he spoke, an odd look filling their eyes.

“What was that hun?” Mary tried to smile, but couldn’t disguise the wobble in her lips or the furrow ogthe brows or the tensed shoulders that showed obvious concern and almost fear 

“5c001.” Jake reiterated, trying to squash the feeling that he’s done something wrong. 

Greg snapped over his shoulder, making Wonbe straighten his back and come to stand next him, hands folded perfectly behind his back, posture perfectly rigid. Greg leveled him with a heavy glare before speaking; “And why were you near there?”

“I wasn’t.” Wonbe said, still speaking in a sleepy monotone voice even under the violent tones.

Greg lifted an eyebrow, “Realy?”

“Yes.”

“I oughta take yer games fer lying, cause I don’t know how else you found a kid near that place,” he spit the words like a vile garbage, without being ‘round there.”

Wonbe blinked at him.

“Maybe there’s a good explanation.” Mary tried. “Did you get close by accident?”

“I didn’t go near it.” Wonbe said again, “I found him in a tree throw, while I was running from the kidnappers. I didn’t even know where we were most of the time.”

“Kidnappers?” Mary asked, sounding horrified.

“Mh, that’s where I’ve been, I’ll tell you later though.”

“You’ll tell us at your debrief, because apparently, you refused to do one yet.” Greg ordered, pointing an accusing finger at Wonbe.

Jake furrowed his brow at the wording. That made it sound like Wonbe had refused to say anything, like he was actively fighting against doing a debrief. But Wonbe had just asked to stay with Jake, he’d been peaceful about it, hadn’t he?

Wonbe just lifted the corners of his mouth into a small, somewhat fake looking smile. “I’ll tell you at the debrief.” He agreed.

Jake glanced at Mary only to flinch back with a yelp as an aggressively bright light flashed in his eyes.

“Sorry,” Mary murmured, “jus’, gotta check real fast.

She flickers the flashlight between his eyes, making Jake want to snatch the thing from her hand and throw it across the room, but he inhaled, held it, and brought a hand up to shield his eyes instead. No sooner than he’d done that Mary lowered the weapon. 

“Sorry bout that, I just had to look real fast. Did you see anything?” She turned to Greg with her question who leaned back in his chair, readjusting his crossed arms. “No.” 

“Sorry, uh, what was’at fer?” Jake asked, hesitantly bringing his hand back down. 

“We needed to check yer eyes,” Mary said, going back to her tablet.

“Why?” Jake furrowed his brows, glancing at Wonbe who gave him an apologetic smile.

“‘Make sure they weren’t weird,” Greg answered, wiggling his hand towards his own eyes.

“Why?”

“Don’t worry bout it.”

“The good news is we didn’t see anything,” Mary said, looking up again and giving Jake a small smile, “but we’re still goin to get a full check up for you just to be safe. There should be a doctor round here somewhere that should be able to give you a look over.”

“Does Dr. Jenson still work the night shifts here?” Wonbe asked. 

Greg gave him a suspicious look; “She didn’t come into work today. Why d’you care if she’s workin tonight?”

“I jus-”

“Your schemin’ somethin’ again aren’t you?”

“No, I-”

“I was wondering why you came to this nest anyways, you hate it here, avoid it all together.”

“It just where we came in.”

“Oh really?” 

 “Anyways!” Mary interjected, looking tired, “Dr. Jenson isn’t here today but they’ve probably got someone to pick up her shift already. Let’s see here.” She fiddled with the tablet a moment before smiling, “Alright, I got us an appointment in room zero with a doctor.”

“Which doctor?” Wonbe asked, and it looke like Greg was about to comment again when Mary beat him to it;

“It didn’t say, just said room zero.”

Jake nodded . The sooner her could ge his ankle looked at the sooner he could move on to finding Zoey again. Once we  get you checked up we can help you look fer your sister better.”

She stood up and both Jake and Wonbe made to follow her but Greg, who was still sitting made a noise of cancellation and snapped towards Wonbe.

“Where d’ya think yer goin?”

Wonbe shuffled from one foot to the other before tilting his head toward Jake and Mary. 

“With them,” he answered.

“Mary can take him, your gonna stay here ‘n give me your report.”

Wonbe opened his mouth before closing it and glancing at Jake, who gave him a terrified look.

“It is just that I promised to stay by his side is all,” Wonbe seemed to settle on as a response.

Greg raised an eye brow at that, “Ok? Won’t be the first promise you broke.”

At this Mary stepped in again; “He’s very good with keepin promises Greg,” she faced Wonbe next, “Why did you promise him that?”

“He was panicking and I wanted to calm him down so I offered to stay by his side.”

Greg winkled his nose, “That was stupid, what if he decides t’kill ya or somethin?”

“I don’t thi-”

Greg cut him off with a wrong sound, “Not thinkin gets ya killed, you know that.”

Marry rolled her eyes, “Ok, enough. I agree it wasn’t smart to promise something like that. I don’t think you really thought about what it means to not leave someone’s side like this, but it was very nice of you. For now why don’t we just have Jake wait a moment while you give your report and then both of you can come along, we have a little time before the appointment.”

Jake glanced at Wonbe, guilt at being a burden like this churning through his stomach. Maybe he should let him back out of his word. It wouldn’t be the first time someone did that and honestly he’d half expected him to do it anyways. This way it wouldn’t be Wonbe’s decision and he wouldn’t have to feel guilty about it.

He opened his mouth to let them know that maybe, perhaps, it was ok if Wonbe didn’t wanna help him, but Mary had suddenly reached around him to help support his weight and ushered him into a corner, whispering a, ‘this’ll be just a sec, wait here.’ before she’d left to go sit back in her chair.

Jake leaned against the wall a moment before realizing the cool surface was reflective and jumped back like it had burned him, hissing at the sparkles of pain in his ankle. No one had seemed to notice so he slowly sat down with his back to the wall.

“Alrighty,” Mary sighed, picking up the discarded tablet once again only for Greg to snatch it from her hands.

“Nuh-uh, my ward, my report responsibilities.” He rumbled, poking at the tablet with unnecessary aggression, “Skippin the name, registration, level and clearance, let’s get right into your story huh?”

“Right,” Wonbe said, moving to stand in the middle of the table where Jake had been, perfect posture, arms folded behind his back, “my clearance was given to trade with a group for items requested by the technical business, uh, Bloom, I think. I was supposed to meet with said group to trade money for their technology. Upon meeting with said group however they conned me. They find rich people’s family or partners that they can then ransom. They thought I was a son of some rich family due to what I was buying and would not believe me when I said I wasn’t. Because there’s nothing to tie me to the Ant Hill they held on to me until they could find my family.”

“I wish they would have,” Greg grumbled, typing on the tablet with the same amount of aggression still.

“Greg!” Mary scolded. 

Wonbe continued, “They tried to get information out of me and when that did not work they brought me everywhere with them, trying to find someone who would care enough to pay their ransom. A couple people tried but then they would get sick of me and tracked down the group to return me.”

Greg barked a clipped laugh at that but Mary gave him pitying eye. 

“They didn’t know what they were throwing ‘round. You are so worth keeping.” She reached a hand across the table and towards him, he glanced down, almost disentangling his arm behind his back but straighten back up and continued.

“Yesterday I realized they had become comfortable with my presence and relaxed their watch on me so this morning I stole some of their stuff and ran for it. It did not take them long to realize I was gone however and they started a chase. I hid inside a tree throw which is where I found Jake. From there I calmed him down and helped get him to the closest entrance I could think of.”

Greg made an incoherent noise of dissatisfaction as he finished typing, finally looking up with a bored look, “So basically, you were dragged round the forest for ‘round two months?”

“Yes.” Wonbe answered.

“Oh,” Mary whined with a sad look and another reach at him; with a glance at Greg Wonbe untangled his arms to hold Mary’s hands, “are you ok? Did you eat enough? Did they take your medicine?”

“They fed me twice a day, scraps they didn’t want, but still enough to survive. At first they tried to sell my medicine, then they realized I actually needed it to stay in ‘ransom shape’ as they put it, they would give me my medicine when needed.”

“Least they were responsible,” Greg shrugged, setting down the tablet and pulling up the bag he had discarded earlier.

Shuffling around for a moment he finally seemed to find what he was looking for, giving a small hum of satisfaction and pulling out a small navy case. Wonbe’s eyes widened just slightly as he reached for it.

“Did you take care of my farm for me?” He asked, only for Greg to scoff.

“Why would I waste my time playin yer stupid game for you? I actually use my time responsibly.”

Wonbe didn’t seem to be listening as he opened the case and pulled out something similar to a handheld gaming system. At least if Jake had to guess, that’s what he would assume it was, if only going with the context clues. 

Wonbe looked it over for a moment before apparently deciding everything was fine, placing it back in the bag and clipping it to his belt. 

Greg rolled his eyes but went back to his bag, pulling out a small unlabeled medicine container; “I wasn’t sure how much you’d have left so…” he trailed off, clearing his throat and going back to his bag. 

Wonbe took it without a word, throwing it in his thigh bag. “What about-“ he began.

“Yeah, yeah one sec.” Greg interrupted, lazily pushing himself out of his chair and meandering to the door. Leaning halfway out he swung the door shut to reveal a small clothed thing in his hand.

He meandered back to his seat, somewhat gently setting down the thing to pull back the cloth, revealing a small bird cage with a small blue bird in it. It woke up with the sudden light touching it’s eyes and started to chirp.

“She missed you,” Mary smiled, pushing the cage closer to Wonbe.

Wonbe hummed, unclassping the cage gate and letting the bird onto his outstretched finger.

“Alright,” Greg announced, shoving the tablet into his bag and slinging it over his shoulder as he stood, “Everything’s done so let’s get to the doctor.”

Jake swallowed, readying to try and stand with only his good ankle as Wonbe walked over to him, bird chirping from his shoulder. “Need help?” He offered, holding out his hand.

Jake waved it away with a polite smile, “I got this.” He murmured in concentration, slowly balancing his weight as he rose.

“That looks kinda bad,” Mary worried.

“It’s jus sprained, I’ve already wrapped it so it should be ok fer now. Thank you though.” Jake answered in what he hoped was a polite enough tone.

“Alright,” Mary shrugged in a tone Jake thought was an ‘I don’t believe you but if you insist’ tone. “We’ll see about it in a moment I suppose.”

Jake wasn’t sure how to respond to that so he just nodded and focused on trying to walk.

“Are you sure you do not wanna lean on me again?” Wonbe asked, leaning towards Jake as Mary walked away. 

Jake looked at him a moment, then his ankle. Just until he could walk for himself, just until then he’d have to put up with touching people. He sighed, wordlessly slipping his arm over Wonbe’s shoulder and leaning into his support.

Greg was eyeing them oddly as they left the room but Jake couldn’t figure out what it meant so he looked away and to the bird that had crawled from Wonbe’s shoulder to Jake’s.

“That’s Dog,” Wonbe said quietly as they started to walk down dim hallways lit only by what seemed to be glowing moss. “Well, legally speaking, her government name is Ugeinia but I call her Dog.”

“Government name?” Jake asked, trying to match Wonbe’s volume.

“Yes, the government gave her to me as a, well, they claimed she is a service animal but we all know that is a lie, they do not even try to walk around it. So on her papers and what not her name is Ugeinia, I’m not supposed to rename her so if anyone asks it is Ugeinia.”

“Who?” The bird, Dog, squawked into Jake’s ear, also somehow being quiet. “Who? It squawked again.

“Uh, Jake,” he answered in somewhat bewilderment.

“I Dog!” Dog exclaimed happily.

“Is the talkin that mutation thing you were tellin me about?” Jake asked in awe.

“No actually, Dog is a budgie, the bread can be taught to talk, the blue thing is because of breeders.”

“Interestin.” Jake murmured, watching the bird bob its head up and down.

Room Zero was surprisingly close and even with his slow movements they made it in sooner rather than later. Greg didn’t give any fanfare before opening the door and motioning Jake to enter.

He did it without complaint as he saw a hospital bed to sit on just inside. He heaved a sigh of relief as he hopped onto the crinkly wax paper and the pressure on his ankle subsided. 

“You must be Jake Lunes.”

Jake snapped his head to the corner the new voice had come from. He’d been in such a rush to sit down he’d forgotten to scan the room first.

A woman sat on a swivel chair just to his left, smiling kindly at him in that resigned and reserved doctor way. 

“S-sorry,” he started to shuffle off the bed to stand until told to sit but she held up a hand.

“Your quite alright, please feel free to stay seated.”

Jake watched her a moment before shuffling back onto the bed.

“I’m going to be your doctor today, now,” the doctor flicked a small box, causing a projection of a file to flicker on, “Let’s see here Jake; age: unknown, place of origin: the enclosures-“ with this she gave Jake a look that he couldn’t decipher but felt ment ‘ooo how fascinating’, “issues: amnesia and bad looking ankle. Well, we have quite the interesting puzzle in front of us today don’t we? Let’s start with that ankle.” 

She rolled towards Jake, reaching for his ankle with a ‘may I?’ to wich Jake nodded. She held it gently in cold, soft hands. Jake wondered if she could afford lotion, probably yes, as she was a doctor after all and doctors usually can afford at least a cheap lotion, Joys likes cucumber scented ones. 

The doctor hummed and hawed for a second, asking if here or there hurt and complementing the wrapping of the compression wrap even though she took it off at the beginning and hadn’t seemed all too impressed then. Eventually she rolled to her desk and shuffled around a moment before pulling out a new wrapp and an alcohol wipe.

“Well,” she began as she wiped the dirt and grime from the forest away, gently going over the cuts and scrapes, “it is certainly not the healthiest ankle I’ve seen,” she chuckled at her own joke;

“ It’s not too bad, just a bad sprain if I had to guess, do you mind holding this?” She handed Jake the compression wrap, pulling a rectangular block the size of a pen from her breast pocket. She pressed a switch before flicking it like opening a fan but instead a pink square of light lit up like the holograms. 

Instead of displaying anything she held the translucent square to his ankle and Jake leaned in as it instantly showed his foot's  skeletal structure tinged in pink.

He wanted to ask how it worked, if every doctor was given one or if they had to be trained. Does it have other features? Can it take photos and if so can it send that to different devices and if so what type of file? 

He held his tongue instead. He didn’t want to aggravate her and cause her to decide to quit halfway through. 

“Yup,” she clicked her tongue, “Nothing looks too bad, though, you’ve definitely overused it, I was told you brought him here,” she gave Wonbe a cold pointed stare, “Did you not even try to help him at all?”

“I- uh,” Wonbe, pushed himself off the wall he’d been leaning on, tilting his head, “Sorry.”

“He did what he could,” Mary defended.

The nurse hmp’ed before turning back to Jake and like a switch she was back to her kind attitude.

“Sorry about him sweetheart, he’s not very good at helping if it doesn’t help him.” Jake furrowed his brows at that but held his tongue. “I’m going to give you this wrap so watch how I do it so you can do it later, ok?” 

Jake nodded, his last attempt must have been very poor.

“You see how I did it?” She asked in a honey sweet voice like trying to lure a child’s attention. Jake nodded again. “Alrighty then,” she unclipped the metal holding the wrap together, letting the whole thing unravel. “Why don’t you show me how it’s done?”

Jake leaned down, repeating the simple motions, careful to keep it tight but not too much, just like she had. He smiled at his attempt that was clearly better than last times, nodding to himself in satisfaction.

“Good job!” The nurse cooed, “Wow, you picked that up quick!”

Jake looked at her reprehensibly, she was treating him like a child right? He wasn’t imagining it? Maybe it was her tone, though he was still a child so that would make sense.

Of course even as a child, which he still was, he hadn’t been talked to like this. He was probably just overreacting.

“Thnk you,” he murmured, it was the polite thing to say when complimented. 

The doctor smiled, “Of course! Now,” she rolled back to her desk, typing something into her hologram thing, “We’re gonna run a routine checkup followed by some tests. Ready?”

The checkup went smoothly, or that’s what Jake would like to think at least. If anything was out of place the doctor didn’t make a comment on it. She kept talking to him like a small child and it was more and more aggravating each time but he held back his remarks and responded in kind to her compliments.

She checked for Stardust and flashed a light in his eyes and hummed and hummed until she finally clapped her hands together.

“Okay!” She rolled back to her desk, “You are a very odd boy! Do you know that?”

“What?” Jake asked. He’d been called odd many times but never in a medical setting, did that change the meaning?

“The scarring on your right hand there,” she pointed at the starburst scars starting on his knuckles, “they seem newer. I’d say maybe a year old? That’s your dominant hand too. Kinda looks like you punched glass but that's not something a sane person usually does.” She laughed, “Though you haven’t proven to be completely sane yet.”

Jake pressed his lips into a thing line. 

“Then theres the fact that your so tiny!” The doctor continued. “You said your 13 and height wise you could pass for a tall one but everything else about you seems older. Maybe 17? I’ll send some test recommendations to wherever you end up for that. My theory is malnutrition in the past.”

Jake furrowed his brow but again she continued over his dismay.

“Then there's this,” She rolled herself across the floor and into Jake's face. He leaned back but she only reached forwards to poke his right temple. There was an odd ting noise instead of the sensation of her finger. “I almost didn’t notice it causes of all your hair but you got a metal plate here.”

Jake could feel you drag her finger behind his ear but it felt odd and somewhat cold. “We know it’s not a tracker, well, at least not one in use cause it would’ve been picked up when you first entered. So what is it? “

Jake held still to stop himself from leaning out of her reach and waited for her to scoot back and roll to her desk. She finally did when Greg started talking.

“A metal plate in his head?” he asked.

“Looks like it,” The doctor hummed, “eyes are normal so it’s not part of a prosthetic, ears seem fine too. If I had to gues I would think it’s a new type of collar.”

“Why would they change the design when the last one works just fine?” Mary asked, coming to stand near Jake, “Can I?” she asked, gesturing towards the supposed metal plate. He nodded.

“I don’t know, maybe because we’ve found easy ways to turn off the normal ones. Speaking of,” She swirled towards Wonbe but Greg stepped into her view, arms cross in what seemed anger.

“That makes absolutely no sense, we’ve seen the newer collar designs and they’re not like that.”

The doctor shrugged, “I was just asked to do an initial check up for any immediate injuries and dangers. I did that, if you want to look into his other non-pressing ‘issues’ I’d suggest getting him placed somewhere so I can send my findings to his designated doctors and you can do more from there.”

She smiled, standing up and opening the door, “On that note, I have another appointment soon so it was lovely to meet you Jake.” She smiled sweetly, tossing a lollipop to him, “And it was nice to see you two again, Greg and Mary.” with that she shut the door. 

“What now?” Mary asked. 

“First we get out of this room,” Greg demand, already going for the door.

“To where?” Mary asked, offering Jake a hand to wich he politely refused again. 

“I don’t know, a meeting room? Here, room 25 is open.”he threw the door open and started walking, “Lets go!”

Jake quickly jumped off the bed and started hobbling after him. Mary was quietly worrying behind him, he could feel it on the back of his head. Wonbe had fallen in step next to him, offering his shoulder again and Jake frowned, furrowed his brows but slipped into his support with a thank you. The walk was quite, even Dog didn’t make a noise.

Room 25 was just like the room he was in before room zero. Wonbe pulled out the chair for Jake before sitting on the table itself next to him. 

“While you where gettin looked over  we looked into your sister.” Mary smiled

“Wha’d’ya find?” Jake asked excitedly.

“Not much,” Greg leaned back in his chair. 

Jake frowned. “What?”

Mary leaned forward, “We found the usual stuff. Her records from birth and school. We found her hospital admissions forms but then,  nothing.”

“Nothin?” Jake leaned in, grabbing the edges of the table for support.

Mary sighed, “I’m sorry Jake there’s nothing else to go off of. We treid looking for a death certificate. Just in case, she might not be dead!” She hastened to add at Jake’s distraught face.

“But we didn’t find one anyways,” Greg tacked on. “In fact, her files just stop altogether right round the time you dissapeared.”

“What d’y’mean?” Jake questioned.

“You said you remeber yesterday being March 17th, 3158 ,” Jake nodded to mary’s statement, “A missings person report was put out for you a week later.”

Chapter 1 / Chapter 4 / Chapter 6

⭐️Missing? Damn. Do missing peope have to pay taxes upon being found? I'd image no since they probably weren't making much money while missing. I wanna come through and edit this at some point but we'll see when I get the time.🌙

[tekutiger]

Around 2 years ago, a streamer I watch asked in a tweet (paraphrased) "If SE made your character into an NPC, where would you like to be?"

I replied with the above screenshot 👆🏻 and said something among the lines of 'Around this cave studying the cute Spriggans with my Spriggy!' -insert location-

(my memory is 🫠)

A couple days ago I went to work on my Island and dive into the new additions that came with 6.4. I truly was not expecting to find what I did...

I sobbed 🥲💖

Sappy, I know, but thank you so much SE for adding this. I cannot express how much I appreciate this little area. Such a cute small space. Probably not as meaningful to most people- but it means more than words can describe to me 🥰. It's perfect here.

Hatching Tide was the first event I ever participated in, in-game. And the year I joined, Spriggans were predominantly involved.

Through my entire playthrough- through all of my WoL's travels- my Spriggy companion has traversed everywhere with me 💜

Spriggan Stonecarrier (mount) even toiled the grueling 20-hours per day, 10-Days back to back, of Diadem, with me. Nonsensical, pure mindless grinding- for the Saint of the Firmament title. (Those are literally the hours I did - others definitely had a different schedule from me and perhaps better gear?)

Sure there are stories of the WoL with their Chocobos and their Amaros, but mine would be with my Spriggan besties 😊

[companionwolf]

Toy Soldiers Ch 17

Slowly, the comments the Commander makes must grind Katya’s gears, because she becomes shorter and more irritated with them, even going as far as to ban them from the bridge during operations.

They pace down in the GTS during one such mission, drawing on the whiteboard with a Xpad in hand, reviewing Andrey’s after action report from a week ago and grumbling to themselves as they draw out a battle map.

You winning, Commander? Central’s voice, soft and sleepy.

They pause, gently brushing a finger against the top of his head. “No,” they say, “but I doubt Katya’s faring much better.” They grin as they gently pull the toy soldier from their pocket.

“Take a look at this,” they say, holding him up to the whiteboard. “Am I missing anything?”

Central studies the map. “Look good to me,” he says after a moment. “You’re getting better, I think, At coming up with strategies, I mean.”

They blush a little. “Thank you!”

“I definitely see a lot of your work in ADVENT’s command patterns though, from what I’ve garnered from watching Katya engage the enemy, which is really weird,” the toy continues.

“It is weird,” says the Commander. “Makes me wonder if…” They trail off.

If? Tygan sounds expectant.

“I don't know. Mostly it makes me hope that Asaru’s alive,” they say. “A lot of my preferences rubbed off on him, and his preferences rubbed off on me. We tend to sync well when we work.”

Could be him, then, says Shen. That’s a good thing, in terms of a rescue. Not so great for the troops. If it is Asaru, he’s pretty damn brutal.

“He probably doesn't know,” the Commander says. “They've probably mind controlled him somehow, like they did to everyone back at base, or something similar. I don’t know, we hardly knew anything about the Elders, besides what I could pass on from Asaru without suspicion.”

Poor Asaru…

“We’ll get him out,” says the Commander. “It’ll be okay.” They shake themselves, lean close to the whiteboard again. “Where was I with this?”

ADVENT coming in from the sides, says Central.

“Thank you. Okay, so if they are coming from here…”

Once the Commander has worked through the mission a few times, and feels the tension in their shoulders lift, they leave the GTS and head down to the bar where they grab a drink and stand near the entrance.

Looking for something? asks Kelly.

"I want to ask Outrider for help," they tell the toys. "Need someone to go check before I go storming in there."

You're going to do it alone?

"I don't think anyone here would be quite happy to learn about me and Asaru's partnership," the Commander says, a deal quieter.

What will you tell Outrider to look for, then?

"There's this memory Asaru has-- of another Ethereal he knew in this kind of elerium aquarium tank thing," they say. "I'll tell her to keep her eyes open for something like that."

You think she'll agree to this?

"I don't know," the Commander admits. "I'm hoping so. If she won't, I'll ask Kennedy. Either way, that's why I'm hanging out down here."

Fingers crossed then, says Central. Wish you weren't drinking, though.

The Commander, with a great deal of effort, tosses their half finished drink and begins to mess around with the dart board in the corner of the bar.

Well, says Central, it's a start.

The minutes tick by; the Commander lazily spins a dart between their fingers. They're not very good at this game.

Movement by the doorway; they turn their head to meet it. Kennedy's entered the bar, flicked on the radio.

You want to ask him?

"I'd prefer Outrider…"

I think he's a better choice, says Shen. Less likely to eat Asaru.

The Commander laughs; Kennedy looks toward them, smiles and waves them over to him. "Hey, Commander."

"Hi, Kennedy," they say. "How'd the mission up on the bridge go?"

"Last I knew the squad was retreating across the AO from a squad Katya had pressed forward into," he says.

The Commander frowns. Kennedy shrugs. "I think she could learn a bit from you," he says. "If she'd get over herself first…"

It's the Commander's turn to shrug. "Can't do much of that if I'm banned from the bridge," they say.

Kennedy arches an eyebrow. "She banned you from being up there?"

"During missions anyway," they say.

He rolls his eyes. "Classic," he says.

The Commander leans closer to him. "Hey," they say, "I got something I need done but I don't think the current leadership would be willing to help. Can I trust you with a request?"

Kennedy gives them a look. "What is it you want?" he asks.

"A friend of mine is being held by ADVENT," the Commander says. "I need someone to sneak into the facility I think they're holding him in and check he's actually there. You wouldn't need to fight or anything, just…take a look around for me."

Kennedy is quiet for a minute.

"By myself?" he asks finally.

"Probably, unless you can find a few other folks who'd be willing," they say. "All I need is visual confirmation that he's in there. After that I'll go in and get him myself."

Kennedy considers their words. Then, after a glance around, he nods. "Only because it's you," he says. "What's this guy look like?"

"I think they'll be holding him in a large elerium tank-- think like an aquarium but green water," the Commander says.

"That's…weird," says Kennedy.

"It's got something to do with him being Psionic," they explain. "I don't really understand it myself, honestly."

"Bug green aquarium, got it," says Kennedy. "We'll have to tell Firebrand if we want to use the Skyranger."

"Facility is in the arctic," the Commander says. "Need to get the entire ship over there somehow…"

"Yolanda could spoof a signal," Kennedy says. "Have to tell her about all this, though. You willing?"

The Commander pauses for a second. Then: "Yeah, let's go tell her now."

The pair head down to the engineering wing, Kennedy hesitantly peering into the small room off to the side of the main workshop. "Yoyo?"

"Here," comes the engineer's voice.

The Commander tails Kennedy into the room. She's seated on a cot, flicking through a decrypted ADVENT data pad. When the two of them enter, she looks up and nods.

"We need your help," says the Commander.

"With what?"

Kennedy explains; Yolanda listens with rapt attention, and when he's finished, she's standing up. "I'll do it," she says. "But if I get caught--"

"I'll take the blame," says the Commander. "Don't need Katya hating you when you're part of her senior staff."

Yolanda seems hesitant about that, but relents when the Commander refuses to go back on their word. "Keep that up and you'll get thrown off the ship," she says finally.

"That's only if we get caught," they say. "And we won't get caught."

"So you'll have it ready by tomorrow?" Kennedy asks.

"I can have it propagate on the Hologlobe tonight," Yolanda says. "You'll be on your own finding the facility, though."

"That's okay," says the Commander. "I think I know how I can figure that out."

"Good," says Yolanda. "Let's meet back here once we've gotten the Avenger to move to my signal and we can move from there."

The Commander nods. "Sounds good to me," they say. A pause. "Thanks, you guys. This means a lot."

Kennedy smiles at them. "It's not a problem, Commander," he says, Yolanda nodding as he speaks.

As the Commander trudges back through the ship toward their bed in the barracks, the toys begin to speak again.

You're not giving yourself much time, Shen says. Tygan hums agreement.

"I think fast and quiet is better than slow and loud for this one," they say, weaving through the beds to drop into theirs with a heavy sigh.

You really think this'll work? asks Kelly.

"It has to," they say, "or I'm fucked."

It's pretty bold to go into an ADVENT facility all by yourself, Central says. His voice is tinged with nerves. Wouldn't it be better to go with someone? Like Kennedy?

"Once me and Asaru re-bond it won't be an issue," the Commander says. "It isn't something we do a lot, but if we're in a pinch, we can teleport pretty far-- so we could get away from the facility fairly easily."

Assuming he's in any shape to do that, says Shen.

"True," says the Commander. "I guess we'll cross that bridge when we get there."

I don't like this plan, says Central.

"It'll be okay," they say. "I'm lucky, remember?"

Central doesn't answer, just transmits more nerves. The Commander snuggles him against their chest, a kiss pressed to the top of his head.

"I promise I'll come back," they say.

Don't make promises you can't be sure you can keep, Central answers.

"I've always come back before," they say. "Don't worry about me, okay?"

I have to worry about you, he says. You're my human. You're my partner.

The Commander's insides twist.

"I will come back," they say.

The toy soldiers are silent. The Commander swallows hard. I will, they think softly. To you all, I will.

[claycoloured]

Kink talk below+long rambling thing abt god knows what

U know what really grinds my gears?? Being asked if I'm a little. Not bc there's something inherently shameful or wrong abt it, but bc I've only ever been asked at like. Weird, uncomfortable times. I had someone over for the first time a while back and bc i had just finished assembling the skeleton for my tiny toy mouse's flat, and had talked to him about it before, i went to show it to him. I was talking about it in a very like, distinctly adult way about how it had been really therapeutic for me to do something kinda mindlessly creative, and he was like 'oh, so is this like a...thing? If it is, that's fine! The girl I'm dating is a little!'. Like. HMMMM. Hmmmm. The second time was when I was telling a friend about my recent breakup at a munch, and a friend of hers sat down w us. This person doesn't know me at all but I'm like fine, they look like they could do w a bit of gossip, so I go to do a quick recap of what she's missed. I get to the literal first thing my now-ex said to me when we broke up, which was 'so, could you maybe describe why what you did was wrong?' in this really condescending, self-righteous tone (fyi, i responded 'i don't thank that's a productive way to start this conversation' lol), before they interrupted to be like. 'Quick question – are you like, a little? Because –', 'no, no, absolutely not'. I found it particularly annoying in that context because like. Even if i was, i think i'd find it INCREDIBLY unbalanced to have a serious discussion in public (which i'd made clear to this stranger) while inhabiting the roles of the dynamic. There's an inherent power imbalance and trying to resolve a genuine issue in that space seems wildly inappropriate and problematic to me.

I also found that said ex would treat me like i was more naive than i actually am and infantalise me both during arguments but also in like, regular life. I found it cute at first but when that was the predominant way he'd treat me, i just felt kinda annoyed and like he was ignoring my actual self. Which i guess is what he WAS doing, since most of his issues with me stemmed from me not living up to his kinda...manufactured, detached expectations of me. He very much wanted me to be someone I'm not and when I inevitably disappointed him, he got angry. Idk. I don't think we should've dated, but been fwbs or something. ANYWAY. I'm very much over this person but sometimes I get SO ANGRY with him for putting all the blame on me when it was really obviously an issue of compatibility, both in terms of like how we approached being in a relationship and in terms of emotional maturity and personality. Grr grr grr