#its always fucking doomed to die in that tree basically

[vaugarde]

every time i go back to a gen 1-4 pokemon episode or movie i always go into shock at how genuinely funny team rocket is. im so used to them being awful in the later seasons now

[scattered-winter]

!!

this is rowan :] (playlist)

picrew link

the picrew on the left is him at the beginning of the story and the one on the right is after he's suffered The Horrors (tm) because this specific story is like a greek tragedy. every character (especially rowan) is trapped by the Narrative Curse and they're doomed to become part of the cycle that both made and destroyed their predecessors and their fates were determined before their stories even began and their endings were already written but the love was there. anyway

if you've seen me ramble abt the 2013 movie epic, then you'll know that I was annoyed at how something with such incredible worldbuilding could be sooo spectacularly shitty. so some of the elements in this were inspired by the movie but most of it is shit I came up with. but anyway they're a bunch of really tiny people who live in a huge sentient forest that's magically and intrinsically connected to them in really deep and profound ways (sort of a "I am a part of you and you are a part of me" kinda vibe because like .... the forest Created Them and they care for the forest and when they die their bodies decompose and give back to the forest and it's a CYCLE. everything in this is a fucking cycle btw.) but the king or queen of the forest is The Most Connected to the forest and they can communicate with the forest itself and all of its moving parts, and when the king/queen dies, their spirit merges with the sentient forest, so really the forest "spirit" is just an amalgamation of hundreds of past kings and queens and the actual forest itself, and nobody really knows if the forest was sentient without the spirits of the kings and queens or if it had always been that way. but the forest chooses each new king/queen from the people by sensing who's more connected to the forest than others, and who's most fit to rule. by tradition, the current king/queen takes the newly chosen ruler to live at the mother tree (yes, that's based off of actual mother trees in nature :] because I think they're cool as fuck) with them to be trained in politics/mastery over their connection to the forest. the current ruler remains in power until their successor fully masters their abilities, which usually doesn't happen until they're well into their twenties or thirties. then when the new king/queen is old enough (usually around fifty or older), the forest chooses a successor for them to train, and the cycle happens all over again

as you may have guessed, rowan is the next successor to the throne. but before he was chosen to be the next king by an all-powerful, all-knowing sentient forest, he was a knight-in-training alongside his best friend willow (the knights also have extensive lore but if someone asks abt willow I'll explain them in his post instead since it's more relevant to him). they started out as rivals during training, but over time became very close friends. however, once the forest chose rowan as the new king, everything changed. rowan was whisked away to the mother tree to be trained as the new king under the tutelage of the current ruler, queen olive (my wife <3), and willow was left behind to finish his training. because of their separate duties (rowan having to learn how to rule an entire kingdom and be the spiritual bridge between the people and the forest, and willow doing extensive training missions and shit) they didn't see each other for an entire year before running into each other during a celebration at the mother tree. they spent the entire time catching up and getting reacquainted, and willow decided to participate in the trials* that were coming up.

*the trials are how each ruler's inner guard is chosen; knights who want to be a bodyguard compete through a series of challenges, including speed/endurance/strength tests, contests of wit, and gladiator-style arena matches. at the end, the king/queen in training can choose 2 or 3 from the top 5-10 knights who competed. the trials are basically the forest's competitive sport that they all watch and get super invested in, and for the week of competition it's like one big long celebration (kinda like the world cup or olympics)

willow competes in the trials, and rowan gets a front-row seat, being the guy who has to choose someone from the ranks of competitors and all. there's 110% a scene where willow walks out onto the arena shirtless and rowan's like O.O

and obviously, willow ends up as one of the top finishers, and rowan chooses him and one another, sienna (<333) to be his inner guard. from there, they all live at the mother tree together and engage in Shenanigans (tm) as they basically just. fall in love and goof off and be kids.

but then. they get one hell of a reality check when queen olive is murdered by someone on the inside, and rowan, still a teenager with very little grasp on his powers/skills, becomes king. overnight he suddenly has the entire kingdom on his shoulders, and a murderer/traitor within his own walls to find, and war brewing with the neighboring kingdoms, and his only allies are willow, sienna, and ash (head of the guard, and formerly queen olive's bodyguard/wife). and this is where the themes of narrative cycles and being consumed by the forest really come into play because rowan is shoved into the cycle of Being Part Of The Forest and being consumed by it. and losing himself to the forest and the spirits of the past kings and queens. and the more he masters his powers, the whiter his hair gets (both as a physical symptom of the power changing him, and as a symbolic thing of how the throne ages/drains him even though he's still so so young. plus I'm a sucker for white hair).

I'm still not exactly sure how his story ends, because on the one hand, tragic endings make me soooo unwell but on the other, there's really no other way for this story to go. he's part of the forest and he'll be consumed by it, body and soul. just like olive before him, and the queen before olive, and the king before her, and the queen before him. this was always how his story is gonna end, even if it makes me want to bite through my drywall

send me a !! and I'll introduce you to an oc!

[missgeniality]

A Date With Destiny (m)

“Love is our true destiny. We do not find the meaning of life by ourselves, alone - we find it with another.” - Thomas Merton

➺ Pairing: Jungkook x Female Reader

➺ Trope: Strangers to Lovers, Idol!AU

➺ Genre: Fluff, Smut, one comedian in the mix

➺ Rating: 18+

➺ Word Count: 11k

➺ Summary: You are a boss lady in the tech industry travelling to world for work. He is a chart-topping artist touring the globe to perform in front of millions of fans. In the cosmos of life, you are not likely to cross paths. Luckily, fate has a different plan for you two.

➺ Warnings: dom!jk, unprotected sex (sex is cleaner when you pack your weiner!), hickeys galore, lot of spit, oral (male and female receiving), balls receive attention, throat fucking, cum eating, edging, masturbation kinda?, cum play, pussy slapping, pussy sniffing, fingering, squirting, spanking, pain kink?, tit slapping, reader teases a bit but this man is a tease maestro, cum stuffing (is that a thing even?), Jungkook’s THIGHS need their own warning

➺ Author’s Note: @ppersonna​​ is an angel among us peasants. Thank you so much for all your help with this!   This is my first attempt at writing, and the tiniest feedback goes a long way! Hope you enjoy! 

When you die, the first pit stop you make is to the coffee gods. 

Without coffee, this whole month would have been a disaster. Back-to-back meetings, daily flights, countless documents being read, it’s a miracle your eyes are open and fully functioning. 

Being the Chief Technical Officer of a well-established company at your age had been anything but a cakewalk. You had strived hard and crossed many boulders to come to where you are. But if reaching that point required huge amounts of effort, now your work is tenfold. 

“Why can’t I just get longer flights so I can nap in them?” You mumble into your nth cup of coffee - not keeping count is for your own sanity. 

“Because longer flights apparently have crying children. You, our resident baby-magnet hypothesized that shorter flights equal more time in hotel rooms ‘sleeping’. Guess who sleeps in said hotel rooms? Everyone but you.” Your personal assistant and part-time truth-spouter Jake offers helpfully. 

“Past me was such an idiot.” You shoot back, wondering if you could inject the espresso right through your veins.

Jake pouts. “Woman, you take on jobs that an intern could do. If you weren’t such an unnecessary perfectionist I would be on the beaches of Thailand, getting sensual massages and eating some pretty pussy. But here we are, on our way to Seoul. So quit your whining because clearly, I have lost more.” 

“What if I wanted to do that too?”

“Can I watch?” 

“Right.” And that was the end of the conversation. 

Passengers on flight KE654 from Bangkok to Seoul are requested to report for boarding at Gate 45A. First Class passengers will be boarded first, followed by Business class and lastly Economy. Please keep your boarding pass ready for checking.

Jake stands up, groaning. “This is where we say goodbye. Do you wanna pretend like we’re strangers and have a hot one-night stand when we land?” 

“Sometimes I think it’s your natural response to flirt with a breathing being. Do you ever accidentally just, you know, flirt with a tree?” You try to sound sarcastic, but you’re genuinely curious. 

“If a day comes when a hot specimen like me has to flirt with a tree, humanity is doomed. Catch ya later!” He blows you a kiss before leaving for the restroom. You shake your head in awe, a small smile finding your lips. He knew how to get your mind off things.

For all his flirting, Jake’s interest in you is perfunctory. He looks after you, keeps you from starving or gouging your eyeballs out, and calms you when things are too hard. He’s seen your worst. You’ve seen him drunk out of his mind, bailed him out when he “accidentally” smoked up, and heard every new pick-up line his ingenious brain churned out. Basically, you’ve seen his worst as well. 

You take a look at your boarding pass. 3C. Jake would be in business class, and you in first. Not your choice, the company makes the rules. It's for the better, he says. Apparently, he can ‘prowl for his hunt better’, without your judgmental glare. You nearly vomit on him just for his choice of words.

Entering the flight, you stash away your hand baggage the first place you find the room and head to your seat and-

Holy. Shit.

Jeon Jungkook is sitting on your seat.

Jeon Jungkook is on your flight? 

BTS is on your flight? 

What are the odds?

Granted, you’re not a 16-year old obsessive fan, collecting photocards and waving light sticks through the screen, but even in your adulthood you’ve admired their music and shows, routinely keeping up with their discography. 

Hell, you even learned Korean years ago to better understand their songs. Maybe you are an obsessive fan.

But you can’t approach them like that. They no doubt want some privacy and not be recognized. God forbid you approach Jungkook with crazy eyes, just to be escorted off the plane for stalking. While you liked their work, you had your own, and getting thrown off this flight does not help you there.

So, you’re just gonna have to speak to him like just another passenger. 

BTS who? 

Biggest boyband who? 

You only listen to Frank Sinatra. 

“Excuse me?” You call out, a shiver of a whisper leaving your lips. You immediately chastise yourself for being so star-struck.

Big, round eyes glitter under the bucket hat. The softest ‘huh’ throws a lasso over your heart, and holds it captive. He adjusts his hat, inked fingers making a brief yet lasting appearance. The epitome of tenderness, you muse as his eyes flit here and there to figure out the situation. After finding no one to help him out, he gently offers “Yes?”

You feel extremely guilty for marring his serene face with creases of trouble. “I think this is my seat. See, 3C.” you say, pointing to the seat and then to your ticket for good measure. Did he suspect you recognize them? No. Do you look like you’re over-gesticulating? Totally. 

“Oh.” His brow distresses further, the sight has you ready to give the man your seat and hide in the bathroom for the rest of the flight. “But even I am 3C.”

His ticket shows the same characters as yours. 

Huh?

With both your faces contorted in confusion, an air hostess comes forward to help. 

“We both are booked on the same seat. How does that happen? Do I need to catch another flight?” You suddenly pour out, remembering the countless commitments you have in Seoul that would go down the drain if you don’t make it by tonight.

She's quick to reassure you. “Do not worry ma’am, I’m sure there must have been an error in the printing. I’ll be right back.” At the same time, Jungkook is approached by someone, probably one of their staff, to discuss the issue.

The air hostess returns smiling. “Ma’am, you both were booked on the same seat but this adjacent seat was left empty. We are extremely sorry for the error. You may take 3B.” She reiterates the same message to Jungkook in Korean, who then looks mighty relieved. 

Goddamn, his eyes got bigger. How much bigger can they get?

“All okay then?” He glances sideways, smile irradiating your senses and waking you up better than all the coffee could. 

“All good. Sorry for the trouble.” You add, even though it isn’t your mistake in any way.

“No no. No trouble” He beams back. 

Aw, you are in trouble. 

As the flight is about to take off, you can see the rest of BTS in the rows ahead of you, with some other staff members taking up other seats. There’s one old man with a scowl on his face, whom you can’t place with the BigHit group. Great, no crying kids. Unless the frowning grandpa snores to the heavens, you can actually catch a good four-hour snooze. Take that, Jake. Hope a kid blows snot in his face. 

Looking at your neighbor, you find him busy searching for a good video game on the screen. The other members seem to be using this flight to catch a nap, except him. You always wondered whether their on-screen persona was real or not. Now you could say at least one of his characteristics is true. 

Turning away, you bring your focus back to the document at hand. The schematics for a new product your company was launching. You had spearheaded its conception and looked over every single detail in its manufacturing. The Seoul branch is one of the main players in its production, and your last stop before heading back home. You must have every word in this file burnt in the back of your eyelids to make this deal smooth. 

Reclining your seat, and putting your legs up, you got down to business.

An Angel was calling you. 

You want to wake up, but you couldn’t, fearing the Angel would stop singing to you. Something is poking you, but the voice just drowns it all out.

Wait...

Fluttering your eyes open, you see Jeon Jungkook staring right at you. 

“Hi... They, umm--Food? Want to eat?” the Angel utters. Jungkook utters. Tomato, to-mah-to. 

“Oh!” you exclaim, wiping non-existent drool on your face. His palm on your shoulder quickly retracts at your exaggerated attempt to hide your embarrassment. “Thank you so much.”

Then, he does that thing. He smiles. Eye scrunch and all. 

Fuck the coffee gods. When you die, you want to meet the Grand Master and ask him what crack he was on to hand over so much power to one man’s smile. 

The food is placed on your table, and you thank the hostess graciously. 

“Do you need anything to drink?” She asks, to which you only shake your head. There was enough caffeine in your system to shoot a horse to the moon and you were still drowsy. There was no need to catalyze this process with booze.  

“Your Korean accent is pretty good.” Your next-seat resident comments. Ah, you had conversed with the hostess in Korean. 

“Thank you very much.” You giggle, roleplaying an acne-prone teenager talking to her hunk of a crush.

“Have you been speaking for a long time?” He pops a huge morsel of food after asking. Well, that’s another on-screen quality found to be accurate.

“Six years now. Comes in handy for my work.” 

“Oh! Did you have to learn it for work? That’s fascinating.” Another mouthful went in. You didn’t even know it was physically possible to hold that much rice using chopsticks.

“Uhh.. no..” You tussle your hair, trying to stop your cheeks from turning beet red, “I just listened to some music and consuming more content.. and subtitles are a bore, plus I needed a hobby at the time so..” 

Your unnecessarily long explanation was cut short by Jungkook’s child-like laugh, enjoying the pickle you were putting yourself in. 

“Hey! I just didn’t want to put you in an uncomfortable situation, that’s all.” you try to be cross, knowing it’s inconceivable since God himself seems to have given him whatever he wanted. If big ol’ Almighty can’t stand against his charms, you are but a mere pleb. 

He looks at you kindly. “Thank you, that was very thoughtful. I’ve been speaking to so many foreigners trying to get across to them I got surprised when you spoke so fluently.” 

He went back to chomping on his food like it was his last meal, completely unaware of your staring.  

You both speak for a long time. He explains their latest shoot and fan meeting, and you listen to him pour out his love for his job and fans as much as he could articulate. The rest of the emotion is portrayed by his now widest eyeballs (they cannot get any wider, you confirm by asking him - a request he apparently gets a lot) and intense gesticulation. It is very gratifying to listen to his past schedules, and you slip in a quick prayer for not having a job where you had to maintain public appearances while having a schedule as persevering as theirs. Sure, you had a ton of commitments. But can you throw your hair in a bun and aggressively scowl at a monitor and still meet your target? Fuck yeah.

You went on to tell him about yourself - your job, your travels, the reason you were in Seoul. He listens to them with rapt attention throwing in appropriate questions without interrupting your flow. He gives the right amount of sympathy; just enough to show that he understands why you have three sets of nightwear and a futon in your office, but not too much where it seems like you should “take a break” and “think about the joys of motherhood” - as you are often told. 

During the conversation, you digress a little to take in his slight features. The apple of his cheeks, in full display, when he tells you about how he pranked his members. The light pout of his lips when he talks about the times their path seemed too far-fetched, when every single obstacle felt like the end of their career. The stars in his eyes when he speaks of how he feels during tours, meeting the endless number of fans, the drive that keeps him going. They all make an endearing package. Eager to please, you kept the conversation going with gusto. The meal is followed by a snack break, after which you had effectively exhausted all conversation topics that could be brought up with near-strangers.

A quick alcohol break later, (yes, you caved, the catalyst was welcome) you both doze off, seemingly exhausted from recollecting respective timetables. He wakes up soon after to play video games and talk to the other members. But you fall into a deep slumber, with an Angel’s chuckles in the background guiding you through the sleep. 

Jungkook wakes up to see his character dead. The video game was forgotten after his conversation with you began. 

He spent an inordinate amount of time talking to you. And now that you’re asleep, he is only thinking about how much he enjoyed the conversation. Jungkook is not a speaker. His introversion leaves much to be desired in that department. Most of the time, his members cover for him, play the role of dutiful wingmen, and introduce him to their friends. And still, it took him a long time to talk freely.

But something about you made him open up.

Maybe it was the way you listened to him, lips slightly parted when you were absorbing every single word he let out. Maybe it was the questions you asked, treading lightly and skirting any personal questions. Maybe it was the fact that you pretended to not know him at first, mindful of his privacy. The butterflies in him could be explained by this.

But.

It could also be how graceful you looked, even though you’re dressed in sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt. It could be how you carried yourself, with great elegance and poise, even though your work was taxing. It could also be your toe socks, and your glee when he showed you his.

Your personality is infectious. He already misses you, despite you being inches away, desperately wants to exhaust every second of this journey engrossed in you. 

He wonders if you feel that way too.

Speaking of whom-

A snicker escapes his lips when he turns to face you. 

In your sleepy haze, Jungkook sees that a) your mouth is wide open, b) your hands mindlessly fiddle with the reams of pages on your lap, and c) your eyes scrunch as sunlight pierces through the flight to bounce off your face. Cute, he muses, trying to locate the source of the criminal rays irking you. 

The window letting the sunbeam in is beside an old man sitting on the other end. He is eyeing the magazine in his hands with abject disapproval, like the booklet had sullied him and his family. 

Gathering up the courage, Jungkook calls out for the man.

“Excuse me, sir. Do you mind pulling the window shade?” He asks, in the sweetest voice that his hyungs would melt at first listen. 

Puppy eyes are met with the geezer’s piercing glare, making Jungkook wonder if he accidentally said something strikingly offensive instead of what he thought he said. About to backtrack his words and try again, he gets interrupted by the man letting out a big grunt, after which he continues in his endeavor to telepathically set fire to the magazine. He does not forget to give a nasty side-eye but completely refuses to comply with Jungkook’s request. 

“And my team thinks my glares are spooky.” You pique, having witnessed the whole interaction, “I ought to have him on board”. Jungkook snorts, and you take that to be his agreement. 

Pausing, you throw caution in the wind and add, “Thank you though, that was very sweet of you.”

He eyes you demurely. “No problem, you looked like you needed the rest.” 

“Listen, I-”

“So I was think-”

Ladies and gentlemen, we have just been cleared to land at the Incheon International airport. Please ensure your backpacks and suitcases are stowed away in the overhead compartments or underneath the seats ahead of you. The flight attendants are currently passing around the cabin to make a final compliance check and pick up any remaining cups and glasses. Thank you.

High-quality curses almost make it to heaven (speakers). The announcement dissipates all the courage you had mustered, feeling a rush exit your body. You had almost asked for his contact - and by the looks of it, he had wanted it too. Or maybe your hair is a rat's nest and he was just going to point that out. Guess you will never know.

You shyly smile at each other before going about following the instructions. Your half-read document gets stuffed back into its bag, to be read once you have no distractions in the form of eye candy armed with saccharine speech. Well, you have Jake to distract you plenty, but you can shoo him away by threatening his paycheck. 

As the flight descends, you look over to your neighbor - one last time, you guess - and surprisingly lock eyes with him. Anything that had exited you comes rushing back, veins in full alertness. A moment’s awkwardness later you both burst out laughing, each doing their best to hide their crimson cheeks. You find one more online fact to be true - Jungkook’s peak happiness laughter, eye crinkle and nose scrunch, can melt your whole entire heart. 

“Hey mami, come here often?”

“For the last time Jake, I will not hesitate to donate your bones for science.”

“Well, I heard bone, it's already a win for me.”

You let out a sigh of exasperation. There is no reforming him. 

“How was the flight?” Jake questions as you approach the baggage belt. Looking out for your somber black suitcase, you try to play it off like you did not spend the whole time in the company of a stranger who is on the fast track to your heart.

“The usual. Sleep, eat, read needlessly printed out documents that could have been shoved into on email, repeat. What about you?”

As Jake starts an account of his flight experience in exorbitant detail, you took the opportunity to try and find your ride. Once you locate it and get in, you catch the end of his sermon. 

“-and the name of the book will be ‘How to manage a farm - ‘cause chicks gon’ be crazy!’. What do you think?”

“I think it was a good idea I chose to zone out.”

“Y/N come on! It’s a self-help book for poor souls born without my raw charisma. Men and women out there want me, but I can’t satisfy them all. I will just resort to making more of me! It will have pointers, DIY’s and pick-up lines crafted by yours truly - wanna hear one?”

You throw your bag in front and turn to him. “Do I have a choice? Go ahead.”

Grinning like a Cheshire cat, he starts. “Am I cute? Squish my cheeks. Am I hot? Clap my cheeks.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Points for creativity. You’ll still get wine splashed at you.”

Jake was not one to give up. “‘It’s good we don’t need eye condoms, or you’d be on your way to delivery.’”

“Just… don’t have kids, okay? This gene must be stopped, right here.”

“Okay, this one is my all-time favorite. ‘Rack so big, I don’t motorboat, I motorship.’”

That’s it. The guffaw itching you since the start of this conversation is out of its cages, populating the air in the car. Wiping stray tears from your face, you face Jake, seeming very pleased with himself. Undoubtedly, he is coming up with absurd scenarios to ease your nerves. No book is in the works (one could only hope).

“Thank you, I feel much better now. You can stop coming up with these.”

The goof has the gall to look appalled. “I was going to cut you ten percent of my book commission but I guess that’s out. Hmph.”

“I’m at the receiving end of all these pick-up lines. I should make twenty at least for all the nuisance I’ve put up with.” 

“All right mami, we’ll shelve this for later. Here’s the schedule for today. You have a 10 a.m. breakfast meeting with Dr. Park Shin Young, Lead Research Scientist of the project. Then you have a bunch of seminars to attend, which will go on all afternoon. There’s a bar right beside this venue.”

“How is that pertinent?”

“So you know where to find me.” He continues, unperturbed. “After which there’s an evening meeting with the whole team to demonstrate the product and a marketing meeting right after.”

“Am I required for the marketing meeting?” Your expertise is limited to the technical field. PR work isn’t your cup of tea, but they stubbornly demand your presence. 

Jake exhales. “We’ve been through this. You CAN doze off during the meeting, but you have to be there. Just pretend you’re a college student, sitting in one class, completing assignments for another.”

“But if I’m there I feel the need to pay attention.” you whine.

“Clearly you weren’t one of those college students,” Jake says, perusing through his diary, “Stop being a pedant and do one of those things people do. Loving their jobs and whatnot.”

Before you can retort a reply, the driver pulls up to your destination and you exit the car. 

Eleven at night is when you finally check in to the hotel. The tedious day warrants your heels coming off before you even reach your floor. There’s an irritant drumming, from the balls of your feet right up to your temples, that beg for your attention. Setting your footwear on your bags, you massage your feet for temporary relief as the lift took you closer to a more permanent one.

Once your suitcase gets parked in the closet, you head to the bathroom to soak your day away with the bath bomb kit you were gifted in one of the seminars. The ball fizzles as soon as it hits the water, dispersing in tiny bubbles and a heady aroma of vanilla and lavender. The soft amber tones of the walls, the lambent gold lighting, and the ambrosial air put all your senses at ease. You sink in; the bathwater permeating warmth through your skin. Crackling bubbles with every move; the water teases your neck, soothing the laceration with every lick. Every pulse point on you is enhanced - you let yourself float wherever your mind takes you. 

A familiar face makes its presence known. You allow yourself to think about him, after pushing his visage away all day. Something about him… felt like home. Soothing, comforting, always speaking in dulcet tones unless something humorous pulled out a loud laugh. Even that wasn’t jarring; it was the exact opposite. Felt like sunshine filled your lungs every time he cracked up. Made you want to keep talking to him, keep him amused and entertained. You can’t imagine he converses with every stranger like that. 

But maybe he did; maybe this is some unspoken celebrity culture you were unaware of. 

All you know is that this was a once in a lifetime experience. There’s no way you are encountering another personage ever again. There’s no way you’re encountering him again. Luck can only thrive so far. 

So when you exit the bathroom, clad in a towel, remnant bathwater dripping from every end, the last thing you expect is Jungkook, spread out on the bed, casually flipping through his phone like it’s his own abode. 

“J-Jungkook?”

Y/N. In his room. In a towel. Dripping wet hair. Emanating a delectable aroma. 

Y/N. In person.

He is dreaming. He has to be. He's been thinking of you ever since the flight, so now he is delusional. Nothing else. There’s absolutely no chance that you’re in his room, let alone… like this. 

Right?

“What are you… what are you doing in my room?”

Wrong. 

Jungkook knows he should say something. He should not be gawking at you like he is doing now. But God. You look so pretty, eyebrows arched up in confusion, jaw about to be unhinged, hands fluttering around not knowing what to do. 

He forces his body to action.

"Y/N!" He exclaims, finally averting his eyes to face the wall. 

Pause.

"Wait, what do you mean MY room? This is my room!"

You’re baffled. "Huh? How is that possible? This was given to me!" 

“I really don’t know, Y/N, there must have been some confusion! Please, you have to believe me!” 

Jungkook wants to turn around and face you. He desperately wants to clear the air. He can see that this looks bad. He obviously looks like an enamored creep, waltzing into your space. You probably think he does this all the time. Many a time people have misunderstood him, his celebrity status not earning him many points. You must think the same.

And now you’re going to tell him to get out and never see you again, he hypothesizes. His brain is working overtime trying to remedy the situation, without noticing your now relaxing demeanor. 

“Oh, okay.”

“I’ll fix this, I’ll go to the reception and fix this. You don’t worry, I didn’t see anything, you can trust me, I’ll go an-”

“Hey, hey,” your tone gentle, “it’s okay, trust me. Just, let me get dressed and I’ll come down with you.”

Your soothing response almost has Jungkook on his knees. Whoever orchestrated this meet, he is just thankful for this good turn. Anyone else would go berserk, and rightfully so. 

But you’re not anyone else. 

He isn’t just anyone.  

Technically, he isn’t a stranger, you try to justify. You should have been more shocked, enraged, or at least doubtful of his intentions. But you weren’t. You had accepted his explanation, let him stay in your room while you changed in the bathroom, and now are en-route to the main desk to rectify this error.

The air around you two is strained; he won’t even look you in the eye. Any question you have is replied to concisely, leaving no room for a chat. Nothing to disperse the tension between you two. 

Like now, in the elevator, Jungkook has done the math and maintains the maximum distance between you. Opposite ends of the diagonal of this lift, his peripheral vision probably barely picks you up. However, his evasion helps in a way--you are able to study his full form.

He is dressed casually, and any lesser man would have seemed casual enough. On him, it is a whole new game. Ripped jeans hugging his sturdy legs, the slashed fabric allowing you a peek of his dangerous thighs. A plain white t-shirt tucked in to show off his lean waistline. The only thing holding you back from having a full-blown wet dream, wide awake, is his chestnut overcoat, saving his modesty and yours. 

Jake was right, eye condoms are the need of the century. 

To be fair, Jungkook had the worse end. He saw you scantily clad, post-bath glow and everything. You wonder what is going through his mind. 

Definitely nothing like the debauchery unfolding in yours. 

He has probably seen his fair share of women, and one hot to trot lady isn’t anything new. If anything, him dodging you is a sign of his civility, something you are lacking apparently--ready to jump his bones.

Stop thinking about his thighs, you whore. Get back home and trusty old Vlad the Impaler will take care of you.

The employee’s jaw almost hits the desk as Jungkook explains the situation. 

“Ma’am, Sir, we are extremely sorry about this confusion. We usually keep another key for family members, but somehow you got them both. We are deeply apologetic.”

“Yes, it’s okay, I’d just like my room key now and-”

“We will give you the best of our service to make up for this disorder. Not that we didn’t plan on giving you the best anyway, but now it will be top-notch! Please allow us to have your room cleaned again ma’am. Kyuyoung-ah! Get the people to prep 5338 and set 5337 again, and add more flowers!”

“Hey, that really won’t be necessary, we can just go back and forget about all thi-”

“And!” She continues, relentless, fully intent on doing her job, “Here are coupons for our round the clock pub! The ambiance is phenomenal, and our bartender makes a mean drink! You can use the facility for free during your stay. Hope this compensates for our gaffe. Once again, we are extremely sorry!”

She extends two passport-sized coupons that you hurriedly grab, wanting this quandary to end. 

The walk back to the elevator is less tight-lipped, only because Jungkook starts his deluge of apologies. Even though you had felt the same way on the flight, he was going overboard. You quickly assuage him and deflect his concerns.

“It’s okay, Jungkook. It really is. I know it was a mistake.”

“I know, but I shouldn’t have just walked in like that. I should have checked.”

Your expression is the visual form of a question mark. 

“Do you go around making sure your hotel room doesn’t have a surprise occupant?”

You’re taking this too lightly; it's obvious you are doing it for him. He can only laugh, broad delicious shoulders loosening in relief.

After a delay, you add, “You can’t help it if fate wants us crossing paths like this.” 

The quip makes Jungkook lose a beat. He cocks a brow in surprise - at that juncture, his features lose all boyish charm and turn unquestionably irresistible. 

Then, in a flash, the expression is replaced by his usual grin, back to his boy-next-door spirit. Are there world records for this speed? Jungkook needs to sign up to one.

Collecting the stars floating around your head, you return the favor, thankful that the barrier is now broken. 

After a quick break of courage gathering, you turn to him. “How come you’re staying in this hotel? Thought you’d be home.”

A thought is building in your mind; that this is too personal a question. But before you can take it back, you hear a chime. Jungkook moves. And somehow, you are moving with him. 

The elevator door opens, and people walk out. 

But that’s not where your attention is. 

You are focused on the sole patch of your body in contact with Jungkook’s arm. 

The palm of his hand sitting at the small of your waist is what had guided you away from the elevator. Even through the fabric of your t-shirt, his hand is sending goosebumps all over your body. The air feels twenty degrees too hot for you.

Jungkook is simply being his chivalrous self, while you are ready to get arrested for public nudity.

Woman, you are a disgrace. Get laid.

Jungkook will high five himself once he gets to his pad. 

Is it right to get so euphoric about the smallest act of intimacy? That too with a near stranger? He has no answer. You are special to him; that much he knows. And someone up there agrees with him as well, letting him run into you again (albeit under crude circumstances; he’ll take what he gets). In this proximity, he can hear the slight gasp that escapes you once you recognize his hold, feel your muscles tense, smell the flowery fragrance you still carry. The fragrance that takes his mind on a rewind routine; one he forces to a halt. He feels lewd for taking pleasure in that misfortune, but he can take pleasure in the present. 

Entering the elevator, Jungkook has taken note of one thing: the roles have been reversed. On the downward voyage, it had been him avoiding you. Now, even with the closeness, you refuse to meet his eye. Something on the carpeted floor has your unrelenting attention. Letting his gaze dip to you, he bit back a smirk. Good to know you are as affected by him as he is by you.

“It’s a shoot.” 

You relent, looking up to him. “Huh?”

“You asked me why I’m here, it’s a shoot. The site is close by, so we don’t waste time traveling. Once the shoot is done, we will get back home.”

“Ah, that makes sense.” 

You beg your grey matter to find some topic of conversation to halt the blood rushing to your cheeks. The atmosphere is frozen again, but not like last time. Any unease earlier present has drifted. The tension that once kept you from closeness now keeps you from moving apart. His hand sits unmoved, continuing to rest on your hip. Jungkook can hear the loud thudding of a heartbeat, but he cannot discern whether they are from his heart or from yours.

Continuing after a pause, “I will be here for a few days now.” he adds, the suggestive hint of the words masked by his innocuous smile. 

“Ah.” You lamely add. You ought to kick yourself - but at this closeness, you might hit him too. 

The span of your separation is contracting, even though none of you move. Like the land underneath you is shifting, because even Mother Earth can’t handle the sexual tension in this confined space. 

“Ma’am, Sir, you’re here!” 

The booming voice of an employee disrupts the scene. You jump, wondering how you didn’t hear the door open, while Jungkook takes a graceful step back unscathed. 

“Your rooms are ready, please follow me.”

The walk back is quiet, except for bashfully exchanged glances and racing pulses. When you finally reach your respective rooms, he speaks again. 

“Want to accidentally cross paths with me at the bar?”

The heat reaches your ears. A moment of silence prompts you to look up, and you are held hostage by his eyes. His gaze flickers, intense and probing. Then, as if it never happened, his eyes narrow and his smile softens, harmless and easy. Again, this has to be witchcraft.

“Maybe we’ll let destiny decide. Hasn’t failed us so far.” 

Now, alone in bed with nothing but your thoughts, you wonder when it will ever happen again.

Three days. Three days before it happens again.

Three days filled with conferences, a ton of files, and a lot of battery acid disguised as coffee. Apart from the success of your work, the highlight of your time is when Jake tried to fix his shoe heel at a meeting and ended up gluing his fingers together. In a quiet room filled with immersed employees, he had yelled, “Superglue, my ass!”. 

The punctuation was not vocalized. 

Tonight was your last night in Seoul. It was supposed to be a night to yourself, but an office party pulled you out of your cavern to get dressed. You put on an elegant dress, a black and silver number, only to find the ‘party’ was the most monotonous excuse of networking. High-end businessmen exchanging cards over non-alcoholic fizz was not your idea of a party, so you quickly excused yourself. 

The coupon still weighed heavy in your purse, carrying memoirs of the last time you saw him. You had wanted to go earlier, but always held yourself back. What if he wasn’t there? What if you missed your chance? Why did you have to sashay away with a cool statement that night instead of clawing your way through the lust-filled air and settling things then and there? 

You supposed a drink at the hotel bar on your last night couldn’t be a bad thing, even if Jungkook didn’t show up.

So here you are, sipping on your wine and trying to appear nonchalant as you look out the window overseeing the city’s skyline. One ear is trained to the door of the pub, the slightest peep from that corner alerting your antenna. 

So far, no sign of him. 

This won’t work, you tell yourself. Second time’s a charm, third time’s pushing it too far. 

But as you wave the bartender to top up your drink, the corner of your eye catches movement; one, two, three heads appear through the door. Signature multichromatic mops of hair make their way in, forcing your pulse to marathon mode. 

And then you hear it. 

You hear his trademark cachinnate echoing through the structure. Multitudes of contrasting sentiments fill your gut. Are you sensing relief, that fate served its purpose without fail? Or is it the anticipation of how events will unfold? A sense of titillation, that a three-day old bond makes you feel more than year-old relationships you’ve had? You pry your eyes from that direction, trying to appear aloof when you are anything but. 

When you think you’ve gathered your composure, you look up. Like a hare falling for its bait, you are trapped, because he is looking right back at you.

Jin and Jimin are laughing about something that happened on set today, but Jungkook only has eyes for you. He can’t believe his luck. 

The past few days, his schedule had no give. After every shoot, the only thing he remembered was taking off his shoes and falling into a deep slumber.

So today when the shoot wrapped up earlier, Jungkook grabbed his trusty wingmen and open bar enthusiasts to utilize his coupon, and possibly test his kismet.

“Wasn’t she on our flight?” Jin observes, tracking Jungkook’s sight. 

“Oh yeah! Dude, is she the one?” Jimin keenly notes. “How do you keep bumping into each other like this?”

Jungkook downs his whisky, the burn felt from the throat to his diaphragm. “I don’t know, hyung. I don’t know what to do.” Beckoning the bartender for a refill, he tears away from your sight. 

 “Okay, liquid fortification is all good but how about,” Jin stops briefly to pluck the coupon out of Jungkook’s hands, “we handle the drinks department while you attend to her?”

Jimin nods in assent. “The worst thing you could do is spend time with her slurring and garbling while she ditches your sorry ass.”

“Hey! I won’t do that. Just, ” Jungkook gulps, “I don’t know... We’ve met like, hardly a few times. It really doesn’t make sense. What if we’re not on the same page?”

Jimin frowns, and even Jin seems unhappy with his reasoning.

“Things don’t have to make sense. You’re two consenting adults. You like her. By the way she’s eyeing you right now, I’m sure the feeling is mutual. You said it’s easy to talk to her right?”

Jungkook pouts, but sees his point.

“Then go with that. Don’t chart out a plan, just go with your heart.” Jin adopts a soft smile of encouragement. 

“Meanwhile we will grab the others and exploit this coupon to the full extent!” Jimin gleefully appends.

Jungkook’s eyes crinkle as he laughs with the other two. They are right. Carpe diem, right?

Finding you again, his breath hitches. You look beautiful. The sleek black dress with silver embellishments over the torso. It hugs you in the right places, accentuating your already alluring frame. Your shoulders bare, elegant collarbones waiting to be tasted. Hair tied up, exposing the delicious curve of your neck, a stretch Jungkook wants to pepper kisses onto, without missing a spot. You look exquisite against the backdrop of the night.

Carpe noctem it is. 

“Did you really dress up to use the coupon?” The tongue-in-cheek query breaking your line of thought.

A breathy chuckle leaves your lips, hopefully masking the frenzy in your heart. 

“I had a party. A very dull party. Figured I preferred my own company over that.” 

“Do you prefer your own company over mine?”

He’s still standing, tall frame waiting for your permission to occupy the next seat. God, he looks amazing.

“Not at all.” The words leave huskier than you intend, but they convey the message.

He takes the seat, a mere step away, his cologne wafting over to your side. The alcohol buzz makes the scent feel stronger, every bone in you wanting to dive in nose-first. 

Apparently you have been staring, because he nervously chuckles “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Should you go the modest route or fuck it?

Fuck it.

“You look... great today,” is all you get out. Stupid brain spewing half-baked goods.

Understatement of the year. He looks like sin incarnate. All black attire highlighting his golden skin, the dichotomy of his whole look has you understandably tongue-tied. Black jeans - no rips, sadly- with a dark grey high-neck t-shirt, tucked in of course, because pain is the only constant for you. A black trench coat is thrown on top to seal the look. The obsidian outfit sends desperate need through your body, an intense desire to rip it all off surging through you. Somehow, through all these layers you can sense his fit body, his rippled muscles, his sturdy pecs, like they have an aura of their own. 

“Ah, thank you. You look amazing as well.” Halting a moment to sip his drink, he resumes.  “Sucks that you dressed up for nothing.”

“Well, you liked it. So it's not for nothing.”

If looks were potent, Jungkook’s own could set you on fire. Gaze coolly raking over your figure, the tick in his jaw betrays his reaction. A chill passes through every part of your body under his intense scrutiny.

“Are there other things you would wear… if I liked it?” He carefully treads.

“There are certain things I’m wearing right now that I’m sure you would appreciate.” 

If not for the shrinking distance between you two, you couldn’t have caught the low hiss. His animalistic need, usually kept well under control, is raging against its bonds, screaming to let go. Your exquisite gown, flowing down your curves, accentuating the swell of your ass - God save this dress from his feral hands. Against his will, he restrains himself. He would make this a lasting encounter. 

“How many drinks have you had?” He needs you to remember every single moment.

“Two glasses of wine, don’t worry. You?” 

“A shot of whisky, that’s all. Haven’t even finished my second drink.”

Gone were his cherubic appearance and dimpled smiles; the man in front of you is oozing pure sex appeal. His clenched jawline, furrowed brow, and perfectly placed tresses add to his raw masculinity. The cusp of your thighs is damp; if this is his effect here, what will it be behind locked doors? You wonder whether this is the same man that gushed about old-era video games in the flight. 

“Well, if you are wearing them for me, I’d be a fool to miss them.” he brings you back to the present. Twinkling eyes match your eager ones as you give a small nod.

Every step you take shoots a thrilling tingle through your spine. Every inch of distance closed forces you to close the next with doubled speed. Every foot forward adds to the thick air, laced with hunger, desire, and an inordinate amount of trust placed in the hands of a stranger. 

The first time you two walked back to the elevator, his move had caught you unaware. 

Now, the arm wraps around your entire waist, body flush against his, yet you yearn to get closer. 

Last time, you couldn’t match his gaze, skin burnt a crimson hue. 

Now, your eyes are locked together, any movement in your surroundings be damned.

Michael Jackson rising from the dead and performing Thriller wouldn’t tear you away from your current view (sorry MJ, maybe next time).

When the doors close, he places a palm on your bare back, bringing you to his chest.

“I’ve wanted this so bad, ever since I met you. It’s insane.”

The hand caressing your back makes you sigh. “Not if I wanted the same.”

His grip tightens. “The things I want to do to you...” eyes searching yours, ”tell me you can handle it.”

“Oh baby,” you drawl, “I’ll do whatever you want. Whatever it is,” your lips hover on his, “I can take it.”

The elevator doors opened too soon for your liking, and Jungkook drags you through the corridor. You’re practically hanging on to him, feet barely responsive, the faint buzz of wine making you giddy. His hawkish gaze soaks in everything you do, memorizing every response to his touch. 

You lean over to lay wet kisses on his neck. Pleasure searing through his veins, Jungkook’s knees almost buckle. He pushes you against a wall and locks you in with his form.

“Uh-uh-uh, honey,” he tsks, “you’re not making this easy on me?”

You pretend to ponder. “Well, I didn’t plan on making it easy.”

He smirks, all sex, and the wetness between your legs is making its presence known. Leaning into your ear, he whispers, “Unless you want me to have my way with you right here…” and all your brattiness dissipates. 

Satisfied, he grins. “Your place or mine?” 

“Hmmn, depends.”

He cocks a brow. “On?”

“Am I gonna be able to walk tomorrow?”

That damned smirk. “Your place it is.”

Jungkook’s lips are on yours the moment your door is locked. He cages you against its frame, teeth clashing and biting anything they find. You let your hands roam all over, searching for something to hold on to. A throaty sound leaves Jungkook when your digits card through his hair and tug on it, a sound you gladly swallow.

Time seems to have taken a break. Your thoughts are blank. You chase the kiss like it's the only thing you know, the only thing you’re born to do, your sole mission in life before you die. The bruising pace Jungkook set is eagerly matched by you. Gravity is slowly losing its meaning, and you’re nothing but a stray entity floating in space. And this kiss is your only source of air. 

Jungkook pulls you towards him, closing the nonexistent distance between you. Heat rises from his chest, the feeling is hypnotic beyond reason. A taste of you has ruined every other flavor. He kept his eyes half-open, sneaking peeks at your flushed face whenever you come for air. His fingers explored your body, grabbing your ass and pulling you into him. Your clothed crevice jolts at the friction, hips hounding for more.

The moan that leaves you gets muted, because Jungkook takes this opportunity to take control. Tongue forcing its way in to explore every corner of your mouth, it melds with your own muscle. If this were a dance, it would be a fierce tango, oozing with sexual tension. Breathing is now trivial, this kiss is imperative. 

Jungkook’s hands grab your hips and twirl you, both of you now facing a full-length mirror. You can witness your neckline being abused, mulberry blossoms left in place. The sight has your sex clenching, and lips liberated, you couldn’t stop yourself from mewling.

“Fuck, Y/N. I’m going to make you scream so loud, the hotel reception will hear you.”

With your head spinning in lust, you try to form your words right. “An- And what? Discuss how a second room for you was - oh god - was useless?” 

Jungkook pauses to admire his craft; your neck, shoulders, and collar are now littered with bruises, like a garden of hyacinth at his disposal. The view is maddening, your lusty gaze locked on to him in the mirror. His mane is tousled, no doubt your handiwork, and his hand is tracing the outline of your dress. 

“That cursed day,” He chokes out, “You were so fucking hard to resist you know?”

You turn back to face him, hand reaching back to undo your halter neck, “You have me now.” Stepping back, you let your gown fall.

He froze. You are standing in front of him, robed in only your black lace-embroidered strapless bra, and matching panties, each adorned with a white bow. The swell of your breasts barely caged in the cups, making Jungkook drool at sight. All the wind was knocked out of his lungs; you look like a prisoner’s last meal, waiting to be devoured. 

“On your knees.” he commands.  

Not a second is put to waste. You begin undressing him, unbuckling the pants and aggressively pulling them down. Next come the boxers, and you are faced with-

Wow.

You mean this in the nicest way, but, what a dick.

He is already hard, the mushroomed tip angry and red, leaking a drop of precum begging to be tasted. The girth exceeds your expectation, already visualizing the delicious visual of your cunt stretched thin. He is going to reach places even Vlad the Impaler couldn’t; you are already brimming with anticipation for the final act.

And his thighs. Nothing angelic about them. Taut. Muscular. Sinewy. Something uncivilized in you wants them to trap your frame between them, caging you, pinning you down. You press kisses on his inner thigh, letting your tongue poke out when you hear him exhale. A sharp bite shocks Jungkook, but you only smirk.

“Wanted to do that since I saw you.” 

The stare that meets you is practically challenging you to try that again, and perhaps reap some delicious consequences.

You bring yourself back, giving his cock the full attention that it deserves. Looking up, you see his half-lidded eyes, assertive and arresting, compelling you to go on. 

You bring your palm up to him. He raised a brow in question.

“Spit for me.”

Jungkook almost busts his load when he hears you. “Fuck, so dirty.” he garbles out. Rolling his neck in an attempt to divert his blood, he takes your hand and drops a thick glob at the center of your palm. 

A throaty moan arises from you, and his dick is harder than ever.

“Go on baby, show me you can suck dick like a champ.”

You give him a confident look; you’re about to rock his world. Starting with small licks, you tease the slit and taste the pre-cum lodged in it. Meanwhile, you work the spit along the shaft; you spit on it again, the original amount insufficient to cover the length. You can feel his dick twitching against your attention, eager to be sheathed. Interspersing with some long drags on the underside, you zero in on the pinched skin under the head. 

Jungkook is staring at your jerking him off. The sight of you, clad in lingerie is blowing his mind. If that was not enough, the mirror in front is providing a sumptuous secondary perspective. The smooth stretch of your back, the swell of your ass, the panty fabric barely able to cover the expanse, everything on you is making him short circuit. Seeing you on your knees, your deferential nature stirs something in him. If he doesn’t control himself, he will bend you in half and ride you to sunrise. He doesn’t want to scare you, but fuck, his depraved early man instincts are telling him otherwise. 

“What are you- ohhh, holy shi-”

Instead of slipping his cock fully into your mouth, you hold it up, and pay careful attention to his balls. Jungkook’s hands come to rest on your head, a telltale sign of his unraveling. With a smile, you let your tongue swipe through every nook and corner till they are coated in saliva.

“You think you’re such a fucking tease, ” He grabs you by your now unraveled tresses and pulls you back, “Ease up baby, your throat is in for a treat.”

In one quick swoop, he lodges himself at the base of your throat, provoking your gag reflex, but you restrain the urge to pull back. Breathing through your nose, you suck and swallow whatever you can; his girth isn't giving you much to work with.

Jungkook growls. “Such a tight fit. Like you’re meant to be like this. Forever.”

The last word slips out unwittingly. 

Alarmed, his eyes flit down to gauge your response, but all you are doing is looking back at him. 

Fuck, your dovelike eyes are captivating. They look so angelic, a complete contrast to the perverse posture you are in. Not an ounce of displeasure in response to his words. Pure, unadulterated affection for him. Only for him. 

“God, you’re going to be the death of me.” Jungkook husks. “You’ll do anything for me, you said?”

Muffled whimpers impart your compliance, and you bob your head up and down for good measure. The tip of his cock hits every ridge of your throat, the vibration releasing more fluid down.

“Pleasure yourself, baby. Touch yourself, but don’t you cum.”

Your brow distresses further, a disgruntled whine leaving you and reverberating around him. Already so turned on, the lightest friction would make you combust.

Jungkook’s teeth clench. “Edge yourself for me, sweetie.” 

It's like your body is tuned to his command. Slipping two fingers under the band, you part and slide them on either side of your throbbing nub. Despite you avoiding any pressure point that might push you over the edge, the pleasure threatens to tip you over. 

You look over for his approval. Swallowing, he nods. Your self-stimulation is making him dizzy. It's time to get serious.

“Such a good girl. Don’t stop, okay? I’m going to fuck your throat raw.” Starting with mellow jerks, “Hope you don’t have to speak anytime tomorrow.” he rasps.

The carpeted floor grazing your knees only adds to the revelry. You’re not in control of yourself anymore. The back of your gullet is aching as Jungkook shoves into you again and again. An amalgamation of his salty juices and your dribble lewdly coats your chin and neck; you must look ravished. Everything with Jungkook feels augmented; every single motion of his making your sex clench. 

He is close - you can feel his grip on your hair tightening. 

“Can I cum on you?” words slither through his clamped teeth. You frantically nod. 

With a loud grunt, he pulls you off and releases all over your chest, a stray pump landing on your chin. Thick liquid, dripping from your jaw onto your collarbones and breasts, the whole scene is filthy good. Your unfilled cunt is aching to be replete with the cum. 

Post-orgasmic glow is dazzling on him--hair drenched in sweat, tufts sticking to his forehead. His breathing is heavy and resonant as dilated pupils take in your soaked state. Bending down, he crooks a finger under your chin, anchoring his attention on your dewy stare. The onyx embers in his eyes bore into yours, studying for any hesitation in them. A microscopic moment of tenderness, unspoken words exchange between you. 

Satisfied to find only searing hunger, his digits collect the beads of cum on your jaw, pushing them back into your mouth. Your eyes roll skyward, relishing the briny taste, nearly asking him to do it again. Leaning further, he grabs the wrist of your hand that is thoughtlessly rubbing your sex - you didn’t even realize you were still doing it. You feel drained, like you orgasmed vicariously through him. 

“My turn.” He wears a devilish expression on his archangel eyes.

Lips connect once again as he pulls you up. If he tastes himself, he is relishing it, with his tongue exploring the deep cavern. With wobbly ankles, you let him guide you to your bed, dropping on your back. He follows you, pouncing on you, plunging into your mouth again like a beast hungered. Bodies melting together like an icicle under the summer blaze, your hands hunt to frisk his skin. Realizing he is yet to undress, you yank at this t-shirt, attempting to liberate him from the offending fabric.

“Tsk, greedy.” he bit your ear, soothing the sting with a kiss. 

“Cruel is what it is.” You huff, like everything he’s doing is not a blissful affair. 

How do men do that? Violently ripping their shirt off and leaving a messy mop of hair in its wake, nevertheless looking like they could walk a runway the next instant. Jungkook was no exception. The moment he pulls his shirt off, you are rendered speechless.

Chiseled chest like the work of an artisan. Droplets of sweat race down the paths traced by the sculpted abs, an intense desire to taste them forming in you. He is a mesomorphic dream who puts Greek gods to shame. Swallowing, you let your hand trace the outline of his pecks, feeling him shudder against your touch.

“Jungkook, please.”

Who was he to deny you?

Leaning up to you with a wicked smirk, Jungkook drops a thick line of spit right on your hardened nipple. The concoction of his cum and spit soaks through the lacy material. A lone finger circles, avoiding the spot that requires the most attention. You arch your back, begging him for more, just more of anything. The wet fabric amplifies the emptiness in your cunt. 

“Aww,” he coos, clearly amused by your neediness, “undo this for me, sweetness. Let me see you.”

Moving at lightning speed, you unhook the bra, swinging it away to a corner of the room. 

“Oh no.” He mock-frowns, veins bulging on his arm as he controls himself. “Look at these tits, fuck.” Mind reeling with ideas, filthy ideas, of all the things he wants to do to you. “You’ve ruined everything else for me.”

You tremble. “Good, so have you. Want you for myself. Want you,” pulling him close, “to do your worst.” you end with a whisper.

Jungkook’s jaw tightens. “Careful what you ask for,” he grits before diving headfirst into your bosom. 

He licks and laves and bites and laps--your breasts are on fire. Continuing his marking spree, new blemishes make an appearance on your torso. Nibbling on one nipple, he pinches the other; pulling moan after moan from you. 

Your hips barely touch the bed, bucking up in response to Jungkook’s sinking teeth into your ample bust. He has decided to not leave an inch without his saliva, and like a man on a mission, covers every part with rapt attention. 

“Yo- You don’t have to--oh holy fuck--you don’t have to, cover me in marks you kno--ohh my go-” The sentence is spastic, piercing mewls breaking your flow of speech and thought. 

“These fucking tits,” roughly clasping your pert breast in his large palm, “they look so much better like this.” The proud smile he shows has not the slightest hint of regret. 

Catching a break, he twiddles your nipples, letting his other hand sit on your covered sex. He is teasing you; you recognize that. Just giving you opportunities to disobey, to take all the pain he has to offer.

It’s a good thing you like the pain.

You slowly roll your hips, trying to grind against his palm, taking whatever help you can get.

A sharp smack lands on your clit, shooting your eyes open - you don’t even know when they closed. Jungkook’s hand is soothing the site of the blow, the pain converting to pleasure under his touch. 

“Patience, sweetness,” the gravely whisper sending tingles down your spine, “such a good girl for me.”

You give him a slight nod - he smacks you again, once, twice, thrice, without a break. Your entrance is smarting, but you want to give him everything. Biting your lips to stop the labored moans escaping, you clench your eyes and savor the burn.

Your show of obedience has Jungkook’s heart thronging. Fuck, he was enjoying toying with you. Playing you like a fiddle. You produce every tone he desires in the form of wanton melodies, he wants to play them over and over again like his favorite song.

“How are we doing?” he asks, a shit-eating grin plastered on him. Before you could answer, his fingers shallowly enter your soaked pussy, still hampered by the cloth. 

“You- fuck, you said I was the tease here?” Your hands are at his wrist, begging to pull the scrap of cloth aside and have his way. 

He comes to face your sopping mound, pausing only to speak “Never said I wasn’t,” and starts pressing soft, feathery kisses. “That day, seeing you dripping in that towel, I dreamt of having these legs around me.”

“I swear, at least take it off - oh Jungkoo-”

Without warning, he kneads your ass and pushes you into his face. 

You feel like you’ve been on the edge for hours. The suckle on your engorged clit along with the abrasion of the lace gets you so close. So damn close. So, so clo-

The tightness in your belly finally snaps and you howl, gushing your vat of arousal onto his face. The high was more intense than you had imagined, so high that you wonder if you will ever find your way back to reality. You feel like a rock in space, aimlessly floating in the vast nothingness.

You dimly notice Jungkook toying with the lacy hem of your panties, pulling it back to snap it against your hip. The sting is soon forgotten, along with your panties flung across the bed, as he parks himself back between your legs.

“You smell incredible.” He approves, taking a long whiff of your honeyed center. “Look at you, so messy.” He licks a long stripe along your crease. “Messy girl, I should clean you up.”

“Wait Jungkook-” you oppose, lids heaving in pleasure. “I need you inside me, please. I can’t take -oof”

Gnawing at your sodden folds, he let his nose press against your clit. “You’re so fucking tight, you think you can take me?” He shakes his head. “Gotta stretch you out, gotta make me fit.” He presses his tongue against your nub, feeling it throb in anticipation. “And I think you can give me one more.” He ends, before invading your drenched channel with two fingers. You are putting up with his torments the best you can; walls fluttering against his lips, legs entwined behind Jungkook’s back trapping him between your thighs. 

“Ah! God - I, I can’t-” Your eyes are screwed shut, hands bunching the sheets in your grasp.

His fingers fluctuate between scissoring motions, their lengths opening you up for him and curling inside, fingertips finding the rough patch inside. He adds a third finger, pussy straining to accommodate them all. Your thighs clench in the burn, and he groans into your pussy at the pressure. Increasing the pace, he pumps into you harder and faster, sucking your puffy lips in tandem. 

“Please, please, harder - let me cum - please oh go-” 

“Fuck yeah baby, your pussy is just sucking me in. You like that? You like me shoving into your cunt?”

“Uungh yes yes I love it!”

“Doesn’t it hurt? Or are you such a slut for pain? Tell me, tell me you’re a pain slut.”

“Fuck, Jungkook, don’t you stop- I am! I am a pain slut! Your pain slut!”

“Goood girrrll,” he husks out. Even though he is taking charge, your words are what control him. “Only mine. My pain slut will come for me now.”

A spray of cum ejects out of you, coating Jungkook’s chest and inundating your legs. The coherent part in you recognizes that you just squirted, but the neanderthal side shuts all recognition of anything that is not Jungkook’s cock. Even after two climaxes, you are hungry to get more. More of him. 

If you don’t fuck him now, you will lose your capability to reason. 

Limbs still heavy and reeling from the ravaging, you pick your pieces and drag Jungkook to the headboard. 

“I’m going to ride you.” you declare and straddle him. 

Jungkook is staring fixedly at your still-leaking cunt. Running his tongue over his lower lip, and licking the remnant syrup of your release. You position yourself, letting the drippage fall directly on his erection. He twitches, eyes still feasting on the mess you are making. 

Finding purchase on his shoulders, you lower yourself. Jungkook’s breath staggers as you drag your inner lips along his hard shaft. You repeat this motion till your fluids drip to his balls. 

“Y/N, I swear to God, if you don’t stop with this-”

“You’ll do what?” you challenge, an eyebrow raised in response to his threat. 

He grabs you by your waist, jerking you up before bringing you down on his dick. Your cunt, creamy from his earlier ministrations, gives no resistance to his hardness. His cock twitches inside as you bottom out. Pulling you closer, he bites your lip and tugs at it. 

“I’ll do this.”

A sharp spank makes you clench around him, the supple flesh of your ass ricocheting in response. 

“Go on baby, ride me.” 

The low-grained command sets you in motion. Slowly gyrating your hips, you feel every ridge of this length inside. Jungkook’s grip on your waist tightens, and you’re sure you will see evidence of it tomorrow. Your grasp on his shoulders isn’t faring any better. 

“You’re so tight, fuck, and so wet. Who made you like this, huh?” A second spank punctuating his question.

“Oh God, you-”, you barely manage to recognize your own voice, “You, Jungkook! Only you!” 

“That’s fucking right, only me.” 

Hips snapping, he meets you halfway. Both of you are lost in each other, lewd sounds of your skin slapping and juices quelching barely muffled by your desperate whines and moans of passion. Eyes locked in like magnets, neither of you could look away. 

Jungkook pulls back a little, slapping your jiggling tit. Your sex clenches, and the following slap has you lodging yourself in the crook of his neck, searching for a reprieve. 

“Want some help?”

One swift move and you are on your stomach, face pushed into a pillow, and ass out. A final spank lands right in the middle, and you can feel it pulsate everywhere. He pushes back into your glistening core, taking control of your pleasure and pain. One hand carding through the nape of your neck, pushing you down, the other hand grabbing your waist and setting the pace. The new angle hits deeper, you feel so full. 

“Jungkoo--unghh I need to cum! Need to- umph- cum so bad!” You are wailing at this point, shame lying somewhere near your flung clothes.

“Fuck, babe, me too. Go ahead and play with yourself, nice and slow.”

It takes a few swipes for the tightness in you to detonate. Tears flood your face as you unravel, your orgasm crashing into you like waves of a tsunami. You clench tight, wetness flows out of your hole as Jungkook pumps in and out, chasing his high. 

He comes undone soon after, ropes of his ejaculate filling your insides. He stays in, plugging you as if to not allow any of it out. But as his member softens, he gives in, turning you on your back to meet his face. 

Butterfly-soft kisses are exchanged after the blazing encounter. He asks you if you’re okay between breaths, a tender murmur you almost miss, as if you weren’t screaming your lungs out moments ago. Nuzzling into his neck, you confirm.

A snort disrupts the silence. Looking up, you see Jungkook chuckling.

In response to your cocked eyebrow, he says “Want to talk about what a freak you are?”

“Want to talk about what a hypocrite you are?”

“Hey, you asked me to spit on you!”

You mock-gasp, hand on chest for the extra effect. “My breasts need medical attention after your attention! Freak!” 

Laughter echoes in the room as you two tumble in the blankets, and you feel his release seeping out of you. Turning to him, you pout, “Your mess is leaking out of me.” 

Jungkook gets up to leave the bed, and you expect a wet towel coming your way. 

What you don’t expect is him parting your legs, gunmetal eyes following the rivulets escaping your abused hole. 

“Your cunt smells so good with my cum on it,” he purrs. 

He gathers the escaping thick liquid and pushes it back into your quivering core. 

Jolting with oversensitivity, you try to stall him but he is fingering you with a vengeance. The ache and soreness soon dispel, bringing forth a new wave of ecstasy. His unrelenting stare concentrates on the mix of fluids on his fingers. With a few strokes on your sensitive bundle of nerves and fingers stuffed inside, you come again, legs shivering and pussy overflowing, his juices intermingled with yours. 

You are dazed; you’ve lost track of everything. The room is spinning in front of you and your body feels like lead. All you can manage is to arch your neck, and plead, “No more, you freak.” 

Jungkook giggles, eyes crinkling in good humor. Ah, the duality of this man is a force to reckon with. You can’t believe this is the same man that fucked you into your bed like a primordial beast. There’s no way you can move anytime soon. 

After a clean-up interval, you are wrapped in each other's arms, melting into the embrace. His musky fragrance putting you at ease, you tuck your in the nook of his neck, basking in the aroma. Hands pressed against his broad chest, exuding warmth for you. His hand cradles your head, snuggling in closer till there is no space to cover. Sweet nothings whispered into each other’s lips, tender kisses exchanged in place of the scorching ones that had passed. You drift in and out of your slumber, fearing the sun would ascend too soon and break you apart. 

A dim glow from the other end of the bed wakes you up. On turning you find Jungkook, dressed in his now-wrinkled clothes, seated on the edge. His gaze, pensive. You lay a hand on his thigh.

“Oh, did the light wake you?”

The alarm on his face makes you smile. “No, your absence did.” 

The corners of his mouth turned up, eyeing you with softness. 

“I have an early schedule. I didn’t want to wake you, but, ” he lets his palm rest on yours, “I also didn’t want to leave without it.”

Neither of you know how to walk away from this. The silence is deafening, unuttered sentiments hanging in the still air. Jungkook’s chest is heavy. 

This is insane. He wants to lay you against a bed of flowers, treat you like the delicate petal you bear resemblance to, worship your body till the sun succumbs to your blazing passion. How is he to explain that his heart is beating through his chest for someone he knows for mere days? He rifles through his memories for a similar instance. 

He finds none. 

Maybe you don’t feel the same way. Maybe, you are blissfully unaware of the tumultuous emotions lurching in the pit of his belly. He can’t assume you will echo his lovesick needs, but he can’t let go. 

You inch closer. 

Fervid feelings die hard. He probes your eyes searching for an intensity matching his. 

You let your lips convey the answer.

Passionate as ever, you draw him into the kiss. His lashes flutter against your rosy cheeks. At the moment, there is no dominance in him. Almost like his tongue, dragging across your swollen lips, is healing the brutality of last night. If you pull back, he comes after you; an incessant tug of war no player wants to win. 

“Please Jungkook,” you choke between kisses, “Please tell me this isn’t the last of us.”

He is hovering on top of you, the galaxy in his eyes twinkling at your words. 

“Please, I don’t want this to end.” You continue against his lips. Head versus heart, you fought a losing battle; how were you to stall the inevitable? Fueled, you plunge your tongue into him, determined to make your ardor known. The void of ferocity is filled with slow sensuality; like he is the sole reservoir to quench your thirst. 

“Y/N”, he breathes out, “I feel like I know everything about you and nothing about you at the same time.” Resting your foreheads against one another, he continues. “I’m not about to let fate decide when we cross paths again.”

A grin finds your lips. “Destiny really pulled its weight here, didn’t it?”

He wordlessly nods, not wanting to break the tranquility in place. However, it is short-lived; his phone’s ringer makes sure of it. 

“Yeah, I’ll be right down.” Something the speaker says turns Jungkook scarlet red. “I said I’ll be right there!” he yells before ending the call.

“The members are asking why I wasn’t in my room.” he clarifies, waggling his brows.  You join his laughter, happy to have just the simple moment with him. 

After exchanging numbers (and a photo for keepsake), Jungkook presses one last kiss, lips promising to find each other again. Somehow, you don’t say goodbye. You just stare at his disappearing body, confident that the next encounter is not far. 

Jake is babbling about his night, how he managed to ditch the god-awful party and hang out with some overenthusiastic college-goers who paid for his drinks with their trust fund dough. This is usually the time you ask him if he’s proud of mooching off of children, but today his exaggerated narrative is cracking you up. 

His forehead creases. “What’s up with you today? You haven’t vowed to skin me alive even once.”

“You like it when I threaten bodily harm?”

“I’m kinky like that.”

You just shrug. Erotic images make a fleeting appearance in your mind, but they are interrupted by your flight announcement. 

“Aren’t you glad this is over? You can go back to overworking yourself in your office instead of a hotel!” Jake remarks, throwing his bag over his shoulder. “At least your back won’t break in the travel.”

Thinking over your experience in the city, you confess “Actually, I look forward to returning here.”

A thought slips in, curving your mouth into a smile. You quietly add,

“And yeah, my back was broken all right.”

Thank you for making it to the end! Please do let me know what you think!

[fumiko-matsubara]

Writing Exercise 2 // AssClass x Tower of God AU - Reunion

Writing Exercise // AC x Tog AU - Catching up

Summary: In their 10 years of climbing the Tower together nonstop, Team END should have known by now that anything could happen so suddenly.

However, a reunion with an old teammate was certainly not what most of them have in mind.

Word count: 2.3k words

• ▪ • ▪ •

Nakamura was exhausted.

Well actually, all of them are. But yeah, she's exhausted.

Team END had recently just cleared the final floor test that allowed them to arrive at the 30th Floor, which was basically a more brutal take of the Capture the Flag game, that lasted them over 8 hours to finish.

Injuries barely treated, bodies aching, sleep lacking, and stomachs starting to rumble, the last thing they'd want to happen was to encounter another trouble the moment they had been transported to the next floor.

"Oi Nakamura, are you sure we should be heading this way..?" Okajima barely squeaked out, frozen at his own spot as he fearfully stared at the sight before them.

"That's what it says on my lighthouse!" She hissed quietly, glaring at the glowing blue cube floating beside her.

Chiba should have been more specific about where his goddamn house is located in this floor.

He had told her before that he has his own residence here at the 30th Floor, somewhere beyond this swamp-like forest thingy, which he had given Team END the permission to reside in for the next 20 Floors until they become C-Rank Regulars.

Yet he never said anything about dealing with dangerous creatures along the way.

Nakamura had discreetly messaged him through her Pocket minutes ago, which he had replied to not long after.

"Wait, I just got off from work. I'll be right there." - Ryuunosuke

It had been 15 minutes since then.

Nakamura is surely going to give him a good slap the moment she sees the Spear Bearer. Well, if she can still recognize him, that is, since the dude had that annoying black cloak nearly hiding his entire body when she first bumped into him at a marketplace at the 21st Floor three years ago.

So here they all are, standing frozen before a sort of gigantic forest creature (who looks hungry, by the way), too exhausted and injured to put up a fight, let alone save themselves.

A Green Mulso, Kurahashi had informed them, is a shinheuh that resembles a gigantic Water Buffalo meant to guard certain areas in a swamp forest from outsiders. There are two types of Mulso, a green one and a brown one. The brown ones are much smaller and friendlier apparently.

Kurahashi then oh-so helpfully told the team that Green Mulsos are wild, incredibly sturdy, and cannot be tamed at all, even by the most talented Anima.

So in short, unless they still got enough stamina to spare, they're doomed.

I swear to god, Ryuunosuke. If I die here right now in the most pathetic way I will fucking haunt you for eternity-

A flash of bright blue from a distance had cut off Nakamura's thoughts, her eyes widening as she watched the water-like shinsu pierce through the wild beast before them at a frightening speed, killing it instantly.

A chorus of surprised yelps were let out at the sight, some where even full-out screams.

Everyone then instinctively moved away when the now dead green mulso had fallen to the ground, it's large size causing it to shake for a moment.

"Oh my god what was that..." Maehara breathed out, his hand clutching over his chest.

Some of them tentatively stared at the dead giant creature before them, some where eve cautiously approaching it to see the wound, while others chose to avoid looking at it.

Nakamura just stayed at her spot, the gears in her brain already working to find answers. A blast of water-like shinsu was what killed the creature, which could have been done by a Wave Controller from just the shinsu's form itself alone. Yet the blast itself looked too thin compared to what Nakamura usually saw what Wave Controllers do.

Not to mention it looked like it had come from a very long distance, which is a range that not even Rankers could reach, as once clarified by Koro-sensei when they were still at the 2nd Floor. A range like that is something only Spear Bearers could do.

Nakamura then frowned at the thought.

But are there even any Spear Bearers who use water-like shinsu to shoot? She knows about Lightning and Ice users who make their own spears, there have been plenty of Regulars and Rankers who were known for that after all, but a Water user Spear Bearer is unheard of.

This would be the first time she sees one if she was correct.

"Woah I got here just in time, thank goodness..." A familiar voice spoke out at a fair distance.

Nakamura's eyes then roamed around the tall trees surrounding them, assuming the guy was somewhere perched up at one of them, based from where she could hear his voice coming from. "Well, you sure took your sweet time to get here," she huffed.

A wave of murmurs and whispers gradually built up and Nakamura could make out some of them wondering how she seemed to know the voice that was talking just now.

"The town was especially busy today and I can't just jump between rooftops, you know that..." He sighed out. "On another note, I didn't think you guys would actually go to this part of the forest. This place is inhabited by Green Mulsos after all, you know how wild those things are."

"And yet it only took you a single shot to kill one," Nakamura raised an eyebrow, her eyes darting everywhere, still trying to look for him.

"I live around here. You just get used to them."

A flash of light and suddenly an overwhelming pair of bright maroon eyes were right in front of her, along with a wide smile gracing the face those eyes belonged to.

Nakamura hesitantly took a step back, giving the tall figure that had appeared before her a once over. Sharp maroon eyes, tall nose, plump lips, strong eyebrows, and long dark hair pulled up in a high ponytail with fringes widely parted at the middle ー a pretty one yet there's a tinge of manliness to it with that long brown coat over a white polo and black pants combo.

How handsome.

Nakamura then narrowed her gaze. Something about this person is ridiculously familiar to her but she couldn't recall anyone with this appearance or at least close to having it.

Hey wait a minute. Nakamura frowned even further. If that was Chiba who I was talking to just now and this person showed up then-

The person's smile dropped then raised an eyebrow at her instead. "What's with that look?"

A scream ripped itself from Nakamura's throat.

• ▪ • ▪ •

"Wow you changed a lot!"

"You think I'd still look the same after 10 years?" Chiba incredulously asked.

30 seconds of dodging mild embarrassment and composure regaining, Nakamura then revealed to the rest of the team that the person who had appeared before them was Chiba, their former teammate who had been seperated from them 22 Floors below.

After that sudden reunion, but not without a strong slap on the shoulder by Nakamura, Chiba soon led the whole team towards the place he is residing in, which was beyond the forest. The route they are currently taking was much farther away from where they were at previously and less closed off.

There were less trees around them and the pathway is much clearer and if they look even further ahead, they can see a wide clearing at a distance.

The walk was fairly quiet, as the whole team was too exhausted from the previous Floor Test to even make enough noise. Some even start to doze off and are just being carried by lighthouses instead of walking, and some of the Light Bearers in the team had just went inside their respective lighthouses.

Kurahashi in particular was fast asleep on Cattus' back, a cat-like cactus creature she had befriended back then, currently in its giant form as it cutely marched beside Chiba and Nakamura, who were walking ahead of everyone.

"Water spears are definitely the last thing I thought you'd use," Nakamura remarked. Unlike the majority of them, she still has enough energy to engage in a conversation. "I was kinda expecting you to wield a sniper rifle or something."

Chiba let out mellowed chuckles. "I actually do own one. But I only use it for specific types of Floor tests," he professed.

"Oh really?" Nakamura blinked at him im wonder. "Where'd you get it?"

"Ah I won it at the Workshop Battle I participated in 4 years ago."

Nakamura nearly faltered at the name almost bitterly but then quickly recovered. "I see," she forced a cheeky grin. "Probably gave them hell, huh?"

"That was Miki," Chiba rolled his eyes though his smile never left his place. "Anyways, water spears. I've always known how to make them but I've only started to utilize them even more around the time I came to the 12th Floor."

Nakamura hummed in response. "So like... 8 or 9 years ago..?"

"Nine years ago," he confirmed. "Enough time for me to solidify its reliability in battle and learn more ways to utilize it."

"I believe this is the first time I've heard of a Spear Bearer who uses Water shinsu to make their own spears," a golden-litted lighthouse suddenly flew in front of the two. "I apologize for abruptly joining in but I am personally intrigued by this discussion, if you don't mind, Chiba-kun."

"Oh Asano-kun," Chiba's smile widened. "You'd be surprised to know that I'm actually not the only one who does this."

"Is that so?"

"But you're still right," Chiba slightly moved away from Nakamura and faced the two of them, bringing his right arm out.

A small bang of water-like shinsu started forming on his palm then suddenly sprouted into a very long shaft that is twice the height of Chiba himself less than a second after. Its blade forming into a drill-shaped head with small flows of water spiralling around the shaft almost prettily.

With a proud smile, Chiba momentarily spun the newly formed spear around. "I'm the only Spear Bearer in the family who had managed to make it sturdy enough to be a main weapon of choice."

He doesn't need to elaborate for both Nakamura and Asano to know what he meant by 'family'.

Ryuunosuke is from the Great Family of Chiba, whose Head was one of the Great Warriors who had first climbed towards the top of the Tower along with the King himself. Anyone tied with the Chiba bloodline is automatically a Water User by default, unless they chose not to use the water-manifested shinsu, as the heritage is that strong.

Chiba himself is not a direct descendant of the Head, making him one of the less important members as the Family Tree is ridiculously huge that a random Regular could actually meet at least 2 Chiba members in each Floor.

But from what he implied just now, his unique standing as a Spear Bearer might just make him stand out in the vast sea mostly full of Wave Controllers.

"I would be lying if I said I wasn't intentionally trying to get my name out there in order to be respected in the family as my own person and not be seen as 'just another Chiba'," he admitted with a determined look. "After all, I was born thousands of years after my greatest grandmother had become one of the Great Family Leaders in the Tower."

He then grinned almost challengingly. "But hearing what both of you said just now is just making me want to work even harder."

Nakamura smirked anticipatingly, trying to bury down the nervousness that had shot throughout her body. That frightening display just earlier and yet he's saying such things like this right now... damn he's grown out of our league...

A seemingly amused chuckle had suddenly come out out the golden lighthouse floating beside them. "It's almost admirable to see how very self-assured you are despite the strong clutches of your influencial family name. I can respect that."

Equally amused, Chiba had vanished the water sphere and turned to the giant glowing golden cube. "Well I suppose my conviction is new for someone who is the only descendant of the Great Lord Asano," he remarked.

"But enough about me, I want to hear your story." He gestured a hand towards him (or the cube) and grinned further. "How did the only child of the strongest Light Bearer in the Tower end up travelling with an old team of mine after that initial claim he had of taking no absolute interest in them?"

Nakamura, who had just been attentively listening to them the whole time, suddenly let out an evil cackle. "Oh man do I have the perfect story to share..."

"No! Her so-called 'perfect story' is nothing but exaggerated lies! Do not listen to her!"

"What exaggerated lies?" Nakamura laughed out loud, her grin even wider. "I literally got a lot of proof saved inside my lighthouse!"

She then gasped dramatically. "Maybe I should just send them to him!"

"Don't you dare!" Asano warned.

Chiba just owlishly blinked at the incredulous sight of Nakamura and a floating golden cube bickering. He was sure it wasn't that long ago when Nakamura had told him about Asano and Sakakibara temporarily joining Team END for a while. Yet the display before him made it seem like their newly formed alliance wasn't that recent at all.

Yeah, there's a lot of catching up for me to do alright...

[kazeofthemagun]

Kaze - Character Tropes

[A thing I compiled for fun for my portrayal of Kaze and all my headcanons. There is so much stuff on TVTropes that I may keep adding as I go. He does have a page on it but it's lackluster for my taste XD but here it is.]

[Putting all this crap under a read more cuz that is long.]

Purpose-Driven Immortality / Regenerative Immortality - as long as the prophecy holds and Chaos still exists, Kaze cannot die. When his body is killed, he comes back through regeneration, centered on the Magun.

Soul Jar - the Magun, specifically, his heart that had been transplanted into it and bound him to the Gun Dragon sealed in the Demon Weapon. The vial is warded by very potent magic - supposedly, only another Unlimited has the power to break it.

Touched by Vorlons - granted immortality by Bahamut, the Gun Dragon, upon being accepted as Magun's prophecized perfect wielder - Unlimited.

Cybernetic Mythical Beast - the Gun Dragon and how he came to be - made from the slain Bahamut's corpse and infused with tech, animated by his still-living soul. As such, all Summon Spirits that come from the Gun Dragon and his Magun are also biomechanical in nature.

Dracolich - Gun Dragon is technically undead, while also reinforced with machinery to create a "perfect Weapon". He's forged from parts of his own corpse, bones showing through such as the arms, legs, exposed spine.

Draconic Abomination - Gun Dragon.

Dragons are Divine - Gun Dragon as the Windarian God of Destruction - the title gets passed on to Kaze as his chosen and vessel. Also War God.

BFG - Magun is fucking massive.

Bling-Bling-Bang! - Magun seems to be made of gold, but is really composed of an unidentified alien metal. Shiny tho.

He Who Hunts Monsters - fanatical levels of obsession with hunting everything Chaotic. (His title of choice being literally the Hunter of Chaos, Hunter for friends.) Definitely partially a personal vendetta - his whole world was devoured and his own mind was ripped nigh to shreds - but also a purpose felt strongly through the connection with Magun/Gun Dragon, a Demon Weapon forged specifically to combat Chaos that activates only at its scent, pre-repaired verse. Almost leads to a Van Helsing Hate Crime against Ai and Yu - luckily, Kaze is not that merciless and spares the kids for wanting to live as humans and not demons. All in all, Kaze/Gun Dragon are a cosmic force that opposes Chaos till the end of time. Also Married To The Job.

Collateral Damage - piss him off and you're gonna go. Alongside everything in approximately a 5 mile radius of where you're standing. (Thankfully he learns more restraint with time, attempting to minimize casualties where possible. Still, if ending Chaos requires sacrifices.. so be it.) Probably also Inferred Holo//caust in FFU. He had blown up huge chunks of land to end his foes. Likely killed people or at least animals :/

The Stoic - His personality archetype.

Weak to Magic - Blue Elenium, a special type of water magic that corrupts Soil. As an extension, Kaze is harmed more by water magic in general, seeing as the energy messes with Soil flow.

Trauma Button - having his hand held/touched suddenly. It brings painful memories of his sister, Aura, who died holding his hand. Under Chaos' influence, it was one of the only memories Kaze still had of her, rendering the trigger particularly intense and sending him into dissociative episodes. Furthermore, a fear of Gaudian flowers - the blue phantom flowers that herald the arrival of Chaos. Suffers from visions and nightmares of a very gory nature that involve said flowers.

Shell-Shocked Veteran - of the War with Chaos.

Loners are Freaks - he is an introvert born to a society that abhors weakness as disgraceful and sinful. Has trouble connecting with people - but he also (mostly) doesn't need to. Due to the nature of his quest, accepts his fate as the one who will never fit in anymore. "I am the monster who hunts monsters so that you may sleep at night human. It is a thankless job."

Beware the Quiet Ones - his silence precedes a storm. When he speaks, his words boom as thunder - be they a roar or a whisper. This man wastes no words.

Aloof Ally - self-explanatory.

Tranquil Fury - most of the time. Also, Rage Breaking Point applies when facing Kumo mid-show. Except Kumo promptly wrecks him, without much effort involved. It is only later (After-series) that Kaze recovers most of his power and sanity, and gains equal footing to his rival.

Firing One-Handed - can only do so this way. Only has one hand 99% of the time, the other is bound to the Magun and is reformed only to fire it.

Guns vs Swords - him and Kumo - Demon Gunman vs Demon Swordsman. Gun Dragon vs Sword Dragons.

Hand Cannon - Magun, to a lesser degree Orthrus.

I call it "Vera" - with Orthrus, named after the patron shepherd dog spirit of the sun's blood-haired children.

Improbable Aiming Skills - especially with the Gun Demon sight.

Overheating - the Magun when too many summonings are performed too quickly. As an extension of it, Kaze himself. May result in a death via Spontaneous Human Combustion.

Sawed-off Shotgun - Orthrus, double barreled.

Sniper Pistol - Orthrus.

Trigger Happy - self-explanatory.

Ancestral Weapon - the Magun, passed down the line of the Windarian summoner prodigies.

Made of Indestructium - the Magun, which cannot be broken by anyone short of another Unlimited.

Living Weapon - the Magun. Also, Legendary Weapon.

Shapeshifter Weapon - the Magun, a part of Kaze's body - gauntlet, windmill, gun. Replaces his right arm.

Only the Chosen May Wield - the Magun.

They Call Him "Sword" - except, gun. Kaze views himself as more of a weapon than a person at times. Makes sense, considering he is one - his true body is the Magun, which houses his heart, binds his soul and consciousness, and serves as the core from which his regenerative immortalitysets to work.

Nemesis Weapon - Kaze's Magun to Kumo's Maken. While forged for the same purpose, they govern conflicting energies. Also, Sword vs Gun.

Weapon Wields You - the Magun to Kaze with its funky laser-guided teleportation, always going after Chaos. Oh, Chaos' signature is underneath the ocean? Too bad.

Equippable Ally - Kaze, after reducing himself to the Magun and having Kumo and Lisa wield him to bring out the Gun Dragon.

Human Weapon - Kaze, literally.

Become Your Weapon - Kaze with the Magun.

This is a Drill - the Magun's Soil engine that activates Soil through spiral motion. Combined with a wholeass windmill.

Spectacular Spinning - the Magun's windmill. Plainly put, Spin to Deflect Stuff. Also, Blow You Away applies due to the Tornado Move.

Deadly Rotary Fan - the Magun's windmill used offensively.

Swirling Dust - Soil Spiral on the winds generated by the Magun.

Transformation Is A Free Action - seems to be the case in the series. May not be the case always.

Mechanical Lifeforms - Gun Dragon and all its summons.

Badass Cape - of course.

When Things Spin, Science Happens - the Magun's spinning shenanigans empower Soil.

Stock Footage - the summonings. He is become budget, Destroyer of Chaos. Also Transformation Sequence. Guy has a routine.

Running Gag - his spontaneous appearances, seemingly from nowhere.

Emergency Transformation - soul reforged into a Soil bullet, summoning himself as the Gun Dragon.

Elemental Powers - all the summon spirits.

Soul Power - Soil.

Soul-Powered Engine - the Magun/Gun Dragon.

Merger of Souls - Kaze with all of Magun's leftover Soil, as well as Bahamut's soul that animates Gun Dragon. Also Many Spirits Inside Of One - Endless White as the confluence of all the colors.

Emphatic Weapon - the Magun has a mind of its own, considering it is a vessel for the Gun Dragon.

Shoot the Hostage Taker - with Soljashy. Goddammit, Lisa.

Theme Music Power Up - Demon Gun Dissolve and Demon Gun Shot.

Black Blood - Kaze's blood, corrupted by the Magun's smoke. His earring, made of his own red blood mixed with tree sap, is a reminder of when he was still fully human. Technically also Machine Blood - it serves as a coolant for Magun and catalyst for Soil. Furthermore, My Blood Runs Hot - whenever Magun malfunctions. May be dangerous, as already mentioned.

Important Haircut - Kaze wears his hair long specifically as a "fuck you" to Windarian folk beliefs related to the blood hair curse.

Dark-Skinned Redhead - self-explanatory.

Death Glare - his usual go-to method of communication.

Icy Blue Eyes - a cold stare.

Eyes Do Not Belong There - Gun Dragon, with four eyes on the chest and one on the belly in addition to the four already on its head, also, many other summons, such as Phoenix or Raiden.

Glowing Eyes of Doom - Kaze's special Gun Demon crosshairs eyes, for when the time comes to be particularly scary.

True Sight - Kaze is capable of seeing through most basic illusions due to an extremely sharp spirit sense. Can see certain types of ghosts. Also Supernatural Sensitivity.

Cool Shades - wears a dark lens over his left eye to minimize distraction via Orthtus' muzzle flash. Also, Sunglasses At Night.

Megane - lol.

Lean And Mean - also lol.

Jerkass - he is. Sometimes Jerk With A Heart Of Gold.

Facial Markings - the wave on his nose and the solar marks under his eye.

Power Tattoo - the Embrace (Gun Dragon's claws upon the shoulders.)

Fingerless Gloves - wears an archery glove that covers the pointing finger and thumb only.

Eccentric Artist - also outside of battle. Primarily a poet, draws sometimes.

Being Tortured Makes You Evil - by Chaos, after being possessed. Returned to being good-aligned after some time.

Brainwashed And Crazy - by Chaos, to obsessively hunt Kumo. Now recovered. Also Mind Rape.

Laser-Guided Amnesia - his memory loss and subsequent insane pursuit of Kumo mid-show.

Curse - according to his people's folklore, the unusual color of his hair.

Stress-Induced Mental Voices - happens a lot, bothin hallucinations and the Soil speaking.

Heroic Willpower - to stand strong against Chaos.

Dark and Troubled Past - everything about him. Everything. Also Born Unlucky - cursed from the start.

Sole Survivor - of Windaria's fall.

Last of His Kind - last Windarian.

Meaningful Name - Black Wind.

Rite Of Passage Name Change - from the nickname "Wolf" to his current name, as granted by his clan.

Driven to Madness - first somewhat by his pursuit of power, then more so by Chaos.

No Medication For Me - good luck getting him to medicate for his issues. Chances are it would not work anyway due to his altered nature.

There Are No Therapists - on Windaria.

Good Thing You Can Heal - gets injured or killed multiple times during his quest. Good thing he's immortal, right?

I Can Still Fight! - frequently, especially when Kumo is somehow involved.

Organ Dodge - his heart is no longer in his chest.

Wound That Will Not Heal - still feels a type of phantom pain where his heart once was - the surgery scar is the only scar that refuses to heal.

An Arm And A Leg - the Magun essentially removed his right arm below the elbow.

Arm Cannon - the Magun.

Artificial Limbs - the Magun, replacing Kaze's right arm.

Handicapped Badass - despite possessing only one hand (when Magun not thawed).

Don't You Dare Pity Me! - Kaze and most of the Wind Warriors' culture in general.

All Are Equal In Death - as Soil.

Anti-Hero - also Pragmatic Hero.

The Cynic - self-explanatory.

Badass Creed - “From the Glory of Death, for the Glory of Life.”

Battle Cry - “Soil is my power!” Also Catchphrase and Calling Your Attacks.

Pre-Asskicking One-Liner - sometimes. "What is the matter with the Magun? Why won't you use it?"

Giving Someone the Pointer Finger - “The Soil Charge Triad to use on you has been decided!”

Big Brother Instinct - around Aura.

Parental Abandonment - never knew his parents, grew up on the streets as an orphan.

Summon Magic - Soil-Adherents train in Soil summonings - the Magun allows Kaze control over all summons, except ones of Mist.

Summoning Ritual - the Soil Charge Triad.

Offscreen Teleportation - played for comedic value. Is actually Soil Spiral teleportation, though.

Forced Sleep - induced by Kumo, causing Kaze to slumber for twelve years. Sleep, bitch!

Mage Marksman - self-explanatory.

Warrior Poet - "The gilding of a blood indomitable... True Sanguine."

Religion is Magic - the Soil poetry is sacred to Windarian summoners.

Dark Messiah - as the Dark Unlimited, Hunter of Chaos.

Duelling Messiahs - him and Kumo, who fits the light end of the spectrum. But will Makenshi's purity serve him? Hmm...

In Love With Your Carnage - You can kill efficiently and potentially kick his ass? Hot. Also Power is Sexy.

Magitek - the Magun and all its summons.

Human Alien - Windarians, Kaze's species. Also Proud Warrior Race.

Martyrdom Culture - the Missionary caste Soil-martyring for the Adherents.

[diariesofthehermit]

The Ecology of Black Liberation

It is hard to be Black. It is harder still when you choose not to numb yourself to the world but to take it all in. The pain that exists within this body is already acute, yet the pain that exists within the world-body is still magnitudes greater. As tempting as it may be, however, it is best not to be numb. Pain is a warning, a signal for danger, and those who do not feel pain cannot sense the arrival of hurt and of death before it is too late. Therefore I have no choice; I must feel. And as I am not separate from the world, I must feel Her pain too; Her aches are my aches, Her hurt is my hurt and our death is one. 

What do we suppose liberation to be? Liberation from poverty, from misogyny, from homophobia or racism? What good is it to be liberated into a dead world, one that does not support life of any class, gender, sexuality or race? I suspect that for many, liberation is equivalent to equality, a levelling of the political/social/economic playing field within our society. As I get older, however, I become more and more sympathetic to the view that Malcolm X espoused in his Nation of Islam days: the “world” of western civilization is fucked, and there’s no hope for anyone integrating into it, equally or not. To be “liberated” is to liberate yourself from a doomed society and to build your own. My attraction to this mindset, however, is tempered by the growing twenty-first century truth that there is no longer any place left to build: if indeed our current global, capitalist civilization has not covered every inch of the world itself then its shadow surely does. Fate, now, is collective; the destiny of all life is forever intertwined. 

If you’ll forgive the apparent digression, I need now to talk about trees. Trees are, after all, essential to Black liberation (as are all ‘things’ essential to life); to put it another way, the fates of Black people are tied directly to the fates of trees. To do violence to them is, in a very real way, to do violence to me, my family and my community. To think otherwise is to operate under the basic misconception that Nature and people are somehow independent, separate entities. 

I recently read an academic study titled “Deforestation and World Population Sustainability: a Quantitative Analysis.” It emphasized, first, the importance of trees to the earth’s life and civilizations: they prove indispensable to our existence through the production of oxygen and the cleansing of the atmosphere, maintenance of the soil, regulation of our water cycle and, a key factor given our contemporary crisis, the regulation of our planet’s climate by keeping its carbon in them instead of in our atmosphere, where it would accelerate the already lethal pace of planetary warming. “Trees and forests are our best atmosphere cleaners” the authors wrote, “and, due to the key role that they play in the terrestrial ecosystem, it is highly unlikely to imagine the survival of many species, including ours, on the Earth without them. In this sense, the debate on climate change will be almost obsolete in case of a global deforestation of the planet.” Obsolete, note, because we’d all be among the dying or dead.

The authors of the study then used multiple variables, such as the world human population, the amount of earth covered by forest, the growth rate of the human species, the rate at which we extract resources from the environment, the projected rate of technological improvement in resource extraction, the renewability of those resources and those resources carrying capacity to calculate the survivability our current society. They gave us twenty to forty years before “catastrophic collapse” spelled the end of human civilization and perhaps of the human species itself, with an “optimistic” 10% chance of human society continuing if we can begin in earnest to expand our civilization into the solar system and harvest its resources. 

We all know, however, that if the wealthiest and most industrialized nations began to expand their societies into space, that Black people are going to have a hell of a hard time getting there. Of course, it’s hard to accurately predict the future. Any model of the times to come that depends on future human behavior or expected rates of technical progress is inherently fallible. We may very well survive much longer than that. There is also the alternative, however: considering that we are not only harming our forests, but the soil, the oceans, our atmosphere and indeed the entire biosphere itself, perhaps their calculations of civilization’s end times are not too far off. Perhaps they’ll come sooner. Who knows? The future itself is an unknown. Yet, what we can perhaps say with certainty is that the possibility for total extinction, or at the very least the extinction of human civilization, is now very real. We are not discussing an end of a civilization, or of a society, but of human society itself. Forever. It is an existential threat that the “wretched of the earth”, the poor and the marginalized, cannot afford to ignore. We do not, after all, deserve this fate. We did not bring the world to this point. But do Black revolutionaries have time to discuss it? Is it not best to leave such things to those who have the privilege to worry about the global environment and not whether a police officer will kill them at a traffic stop, or after barging into their home in the middle of the night based on bad intel? I would argue that, in regards to this threat and any other, white people can and will not save us. Have you seen the news on climate change? White people cannot save themselves- they cannot even agree amongst themselves if the threat exists. 

Yet the global working classes (even those who carry the label of “white”), the marginalized and the colonized, do not have the privilege of these debates. Wealth will not insulate us from the worst. We have seen Katrina, and how its effects upon communities were proportionate to their wealth and racial make-up, and we should understand that Katrina is just the first sign of what's to come. Already, the air we breathe, the food we consume and the water we drink have a detrimental relationship with the life-spans of the urban poor; the very earth is weaponized against us. For the moment She has only fired warning shots and her real rage is barely apparent. It is, however, on the horizon. Who will feel it worst, I wonder? 

The authors of the study offer us some hope aside from Star-Trek like voyages into space. According to them, we live in an “economical” society, which tends to value the welfare of a few privileged components over that of the entire system. Extrapolating a bit, it is indeed clear that not only do we see “humanity” as somehow separable from nature, but that the wealthy and powerful in particular have conceptualized themselves as a group apart from the rest of us, well, peasants as well. What is needed, according to the study’s authors, is a transformation into a society that values the whole as much as the parts and that works for the sake of the all instead of the few. Such a society does not make false dichotomies between people and nature, or between the proletariat and the nation, or even between nations themselves. We are all integrated into a single system in which each part supports the existence of all the others, and to understand one person in their fullness is to, by necessity, see the whole. 

I am for, and will always be for, the existence and welfare of the Black community. I would just like to point out that without a healthy planet there are no communities, Black or white, and that Black liberation without planetary liberation is nonexistent. We live and die with our mother; we live and die, in fact, with trees. Which is a wonder, because I’m willing to bet that most of the diaspora in industrialized nations, living our lives so characterized by atomization and isolation, walk by them every day without a second thought. Your true body, though, does not end with your body. I challenge you: the next time you walk down a park, a block or a city street, notice the trees. They are you. One being, one fate. 

Link to quoted study: https://www.nature.com/articles/s41598-020-63657-6.pdf

[lnhumanity]

an agents of shield playlist in chronological order from pre-series, up until the end of season 6 / beginning of season 7.

listen to it here!

song explanations under the cut. warning that its very long, i have a lot of thoughts

01. Two Birds - Regina Spektor

Two birds on a wire / One tries to fly away / And the other watches him close from that wire / He says he wants to as well / But he is a liar

Relating both to May & Coulson after Bahrain, with Coulson trying to help May return to the field, but May refusing, and FitzSimmons immediately pre-season, with Simmons excitement about going into the field contrasted to Fitz’s hesitance, but over-all desire to stay with her.

02. Small - Chloe Moriondo

And I'm suddenly not interested in / whatever the rest of the world has to offer so / I drown facedown in my head and feel my state start to alter cause / You / Because you

After FZZT, Fitz realising that he has romantic feelings towards Simmons.

03. Saturn - Sleeping At Last

With shortness of breath, I'll explain the infinite / How rare and beautiful it truly is that we exist

FitzSimmons in the med pod under the ocean, with Simmons talking about the first law of thermodynamics.

04. Evaporate - Gabrielle Aplin

Flesh and bone wrapped up in skin / Kept alive by oxygen / But right now breathing is so tough

During the S1/2 hiatus, Fitz starting his recovery and relying on Simmons, while Simmons suffers from PTSD and decides to leave due to her guilt.

05. Waves - Chloe Moriondo

Sometimes I feel like I wanna go back / To a time before my mind turned black / I miss the way it was / When instead of just my gooey brains / All that melted was popsicles and the rain just pelted down / Down on me

Fitz coping with his brain injury after Simmons left.

06. Anybody Out There - Gabrielle Aplin

You never told me why you had to leave / I always thought that you'd come back for me / I'm tired of getting people's sympathy / I know I'd make it back eventually

Fitz coping with Simmons leaving.

07. Hiding In Your Hands - Dear Evan Hansen

Look at her, a total trainwreck / Let her off this ride / Lift her out from all the pain / She tells herself she needs to hide

Simmons after the med pod, hiding her trauma in her music box and convincing others that she’s fine.

08. Just Add Water - Cavetown

Please don't invite me, please don't invite me / I wanna be alone, I wanna be alone / And don't remind me, please don't remind me / I don't wanna know, I don't wanna know

Fitz isolating himself from the rest of the team at the beginning of S2.

09. King and Lionheart - Of Monsters And Men

And in the sea that's painted black / Creatures lurk below the deck / But you're a king and I'm a lion-heart

Coulson leading SHIELD as the new director, while May supports him in the field.

10. New River - The Oh Hellos

Well, it'll rain for forty days and nights, / and nothing you do can slow the rising tides / But the river takes her shape from every tempest she abides / And like her, you'll be made new again

Raina and Daisy undergoing terrigenesis, and later being accepted into Afterlife.

11. Earth - Sleeping At Last

Fault lines tremble underneath our glass house / But I put it out of my mind / Long enough to call it courage / To live without a lifeline

Daisy becoming an Inhuman, contrasted with May during and after Bahrain. (So, basically, the episode ‘Melinda’).

12. Wolf - First Aid Kit

Wolf-father, at the door / You don't smile anymore / You're a drifter, shape-shifter / Let me see you run, hey-ya hey-ya

May & Coulson dealing with Gonzalez’s SHIELD while Daisy is hiding from SHIELD at Afterlife.

13. Storm Song - PHILDEL

I'll send a storm / to capture your heart / and bring you home.

FitzSimmons during their countless separations, but specifically put this early in the playlist for Maveth, and Fitz searching for Simmons during the S2/3 hiatus.

14. Spaceland - Chloe Moriondo

Sometimes overthinking can feel like more than overthinking / It's like I'm trapped in spaceland and I'm not coming back

Simmons trapped on Maveth, reflecting on everything that’s happened.

15. Neptune - Sleeping At Last

I'm only honest when it rains / If I time it right, the thunder breaks / When I open my mouth / I wanna tell you but I don't know how

Simmons after returning from Maveth, before she tells Fitz about Will.

16. Yellow Light - Of Monsters And Men

Somewhere deep in the dark / A howling beast hears us talk

Simmons on Maveth with Will.

17. The Currents - Bastille

We're living in the currents you create / We're sinking in the pool of your mistakes / So stub it out, your podium awaits

The team with regards to Ward about all of the tragedies that he’s caused, the impact he’s had on them, and their impending doom with him bringing Hive to Earth.

18. Bad Bad Things - AJJ

And I got to thinking / If I don't go to Hell when I die I might go to Heaven / If I don't go to Hell when I die I might go to Heaven / If I don't go to Hell when I die I might go to Heaven / If I don't go to Hell when I die I might go to Heaven / Might go to Heaven, but probably not

Ward killing Roz, torturing Simmons, and dying on Maveth.

19. Blame - Bastille

Fall upon your knees saying / "This is my body and soul here" / Fall and begging, pleading / "You've got the power and control"

Hive and his control over Inhumans.

20. The Last Time - The Script

Why's it so hard to look me in the eye? / Playing with that cross that's on your chain / I know you only ever bite your lip / When it's something you're afraid to say

Lincoln’s sacrifice.

21. Meet Me In The Woods - Lord Huron

I took a little journey to the unknown / And I come back changed, I can feel it in my bones / I fucked with the forces that our eyes can't see / Now the darkness got a hold on me / Holy darkness got a hold on me

Daisy after being released from Hive’s sway, and dealing with the fallout of Lincoln’s sacrifice.

22. ¿Viva La Gloria? (Little Girl) - Green Day

Little girl, little girl, why are you crying? / Inside your restless soul your heart is dying

Daisy during the S3/4 hiatus, running away from SHIELD.

23. Pluto - Sleeping At Last

Until one day I had enough / Of this exercise of trust. / I leaned in and let it hurt, / And let my body feel the dirt.

Daisy returning to SHIELD.

24. The Steven Bradley - Ghost Bear

My, oh my / you look as good as the day you died! / Oh, who am I kidding? / You look even more alive!

Radcliffe stealing the Darkhold and putting the dying Agnes into the Framework.

25. We Forgot We Were Human - Dirt Poor Robins

So tell me, what do we need with the sun? / Now we have an electric one / To melt every shadow away / Turn the night into day

AIDA and the other LMDs concluding that physical bodies don’t matter when someone’s consciousness has been uploaded into the Framework.

26. Squares - Stepdad

Thinking happy thoughts will fix it oh-no no-no oh-oh uh-oh / Where did I go wrong I guess I don't know whoa-oh uh-oh oh-oh / I'll just go on kidding myself and everything will work itself out

Radcliffe in the Framework, realising the mistakes that he’s made but being unable to do anything about it.

27. Nothing That Has Happened So Far Has Been Anything We Could Control - Tame Impala

Nothing that has happened so far / Has been anything we could control

Daisy and Simmons fighting back against the LMDs and entering the Framework.

28. Turn The Lights Off - Tally Hall

Everybody likes to get taken for turns / To see how bright the fire inside of us burns / And everybody wants to get evil tonight / But all good devils masquerade under the light

Daisy and Simmons finding out that HYDRA are in control inside the Framework, and seeing what May and Fitz had turned into.

29. Willow Tree March - The Paper Kites

And we all still die / Yeah we all still die / What will you leave behind? / Oh we all still die

Agnes, Mace, Hope and Radcliffe’s deaths, and their impacts on the team.

30. Cabinet Man - Lemon Demon

You can't win me, I can't be beat / I won't hurt you unless you cheat / You can't see me behind the screen / I'm half human and half machine

AIDA becoming a human, and fighting back using her new Inhuman powers, ending with her being killed by the Spirit of Vengeance.

31. Lethargy - Bastille

There's an English man up in space these days / Floating in awe and wonder / As he broke away from the atmosphere / And all of us non-believers

The team arriving at the future Lighthouse, and meeting Deke.

32. Warmth Outro - Bastille

Never good, still the bad and the ugly / Laid in front of us / Clearly we've learned nothing at all / From the TV's window

The remainder of the team during the loop, where they failed to save the Earth.

33. Cutie Boots - Stepdad

I wanna hold you til' it feels like it's been long enough to stop saying I miss you, stop saying I miss you

FitzSimmons reunion in the future Lighthouse.

34. Venus - Sleeping At Last

After a while, I thought I'd never find you. / I convinced myself that I would never find you, / When suddenly I saw you.

FitzSimmons wedding.

35. Stagnant - Chloe Moriondo

I don't know why I'm mean to everyone I love / It's hard to try to communicate / With darkness inside my head / Filling my lungs

Fitz, leading up to his breakdown.

36. The Driver - Bastille

There was a time when a moment like this / Wouldn't ever cross my mind / The sun will rise with my name on your lips / 'Cause everything will change tonight

The Devil Complex.

37. A Dark Design - Among Savages

Oh, there is not a God in heaven that wants to see us fighting this way / Oh, He spoke more about loving than people trying to make people change

The team fighting during S5.

38. Shame - Bastille

I can see a change / I can see a change in you / I see it coursing through your veins / And it is a shame / It is a shame on you / I barely recognize your face

The team continuing to fight - especially Daisy towards Fitz, and Daisy and Yo-Yo after Yo-Yo kills Ruby.

39. Terrified - Among Savages

Cause I'm terrified and I'm ruined by this mess / Cause I needed you more than I needed what was best

FitzSimmons refusing to let each other die & fixing the Gravitonium machine.

40. Icarus - Bastille

Icarus is flying too close to the sun / And Icarus's life, it has only just begun / This is how it feels to take a fall / Icarus is flying towards an early grave

Fitz during S5.

41. Bad Moon Rising - Credence Clearwater Revival

I see a bad moon a-rising / I see trouble on the way / I see earthquakes and lightnin' / I see bad times today

The final battle between Daisy and Graviton.

42. A Sadness Runs Through Him - The Hoosiers

Turn back the time that drew him / But he couldn't be saved / No he couldn't be saved / A sadness runs through him

Fitz’s death.

43. Carry On - fun.

Woah, my head is on fire but my legs are fine / After all, they are mine

The aftermath of the battle.

44. Ghosts That We Knew - Mumford & Sons

But the ghosts that we knew will flicker from you / And we'll live a long life

Coulson’s retirement party.

45. Good Grief - Bastille

Every minute and every hour / I miss you, I miss you, I miss you more / Every stumble and each misfire / I miss you, I miss you, I miss you more

Daisy and May’s reaction to Coulson’s death, and Simmons’s reaction to Fitz’s death.

46. Tic Toc - Mother Mother

Big hand, little hand, no hand, slow hand / Sitting in my hand is the sand of a shattered hour glass / And I throw these grains of sand into the wind and laugh / And I do not care just what they'll have to say about that

Simmons realising that there’s another Fitz out there, and her determination to bring him home.

47. Happier - Marshmello

Then only for a minute / I want to change my mind / 'Cause this just don't feel right to me / I want to raise your spirits / I want to see you smile but / Know that means I'll have to leave

Yo-Yo and Mack’s break up during the S5/6 hiatus.

48. Mountain Sound - Of Monsters and Men

Some hid scars and some hid scratches / It made me wonder about their past / And as I looked around, I began to notice / That we were nothing like the rest

The Zephyr team searching for Fitz, while Fitz and Enoch try to get to Naro-Atzia, during the S5/6 hiatus.

49. The World Ender - Lord Huron

I had a life and a place in the world / I had a sweet talkin' wife and a beautiful girl / I know I'm never gonna see 'em again / Gonna tear the world up until I have my revenge

Sarge hunting for Izel.

50. Spaceman - The Killers

The star maker says, it ain't so bad / The dream maker's going make you mad / The spaceman says, everybody look down / It's all in your mind

S6 as a whole, starting with Fitz in space, and ending with Simmons taking the team to the future, including Izel’s body hopping and Davis’s death.

51. Smile - Mikky Ekko

Smile, the worst is yet to come / We'll be lucky if we ever see the sun / Got nowhere to go, we could be here for a while / But the future is forgiven so smile

The team heading off to stop the Chronicom and save their future.

[yoshimickster]

RWBY Vol. 6 “Stealing from the Elderly” Micksterecap: Anyone else feel like watching season 4 of Legend of Korra?

HEY NOW-wasn’t today’s episode so cool and crazy and shipworthy? Well if you wanna talk about it-HERE’S THE WRONG PLACE-its about LAST week’s episode-MICKSTERECAP STARTS NOW!

OUR EP STARTS OFF-

-with an UTTERLY pristine naval base that I’m SURE is gonna stay that way!

Here we see everyone’s favorite lady to hate Caroline Cordovin guiding Weiss and her giant suitcase that’s TOTALLY not smuggling a bionic old woman, while Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum goosestep behind them, which considering how racist Cordelia is REALLY says something abou the Atlas military!

Caroline: I’m sending two of my BEST guards to escort you.

Weiss: Oh that’s nice of you, what are their names?

Nubuck1: WE-don’t have names!

Nubuck2: We can’t afford them in this economy!

Weiss: That’s fine, just LET GO OF MY BAG!

Nubuck1: NEVER-it was all I was PROGRAMMED TO DO!

BUT-Cordelia starts to catch on-

Weiss: I can take care of it by myself.

Caroline:(A rich person...NOT wanting help from...the HELP?! NONSENSE!)

BUT LUCKILY FOR TEAM RWBYJNRQOM-they had the ultimate disrupting agent of ALL time with them!

3:03

A CRYING INFANT-using its distraction powers for GOOD instead of EVIL like interupting the sound at a movie theater, and then you just gotta SIT there because you know there’s no polite way you can ask the mother to take the baby outside, because DAMMIT-they just want to watch a movie but still have a child to take care of!

EITHER WAY-greatest baby actor of all time Adrien Terra-Cotta’s ruse works Prompting the Nubucks-

-TO STRIKE POSES-before attempting to console him! I’ma just ask, do Nubuck guards go through Ginyu pose training before serving? Because it LOOKS like they do. ALSO-what the fuck’s a Nubuck?

Weiss and obviously Maria in a bag sneak theyselves on board, all while Ruby gives the troops the lowdown-WHILE QROW-

-stands against a tree like a goth teen trying to look cool, because he’s SAD old man.

Terra also gives Yang and Blake the lowdown on how to mess with the radio for their plan, because she is HELPFUL!

Blake: Man, for someone whose job is repairing a radio tower, you’re SURE happy to help us mess with it.

Terra: After being constantly being blamed for it breaking despite NOT being my fault, I want to give that leather bitch Cordovin some REAL grief!

Yang and Blake then split up in the CUTEST way possible-

Blake:[To Yang]-besides, stealth isn’t exactly your um-

Pouty Yang is pouty.

Blake: I mean...your great, and I’ll hurry back!

Yang:(She’s god damned lucky she’s cute, I can be a stealth...apparatus at times).

Sure ya can Yang.

Blake than runs to the radio tower, everything seems to be going to plan-

4:38 But that STILL does not impress anime legs uncle, the curmudgeon he is.

A THEN CUT TO-

-WEISS’S PHONE-where its revealed that either A.)Weiss hasn’t changed her friend’s pictures since Volume 1 or B.)They didn’t change their pictures and it just looks like that when they call her. EITHER WAY-mix it up whoever, nothin’ wrong with a little change!

But I know what you’re all thinking-WHAT ABOUT THE NUBULUCKS ON THE PLANE?!

Weiss: OFF the plane you go!

Nubuck1: DAMMIT-knocked out by a teenager.

Nubuck2: We are PROFESSIONAL soldiers, how could the both of us not take her?

Weiss: BECAUSE I’M SNOW WEISS BITCHES-enjoy the parachute!

Nubucks: THANK YOU WE WILL!

Love it.

Maria after apparently unzipping herself from the bag off panel-JACKS INTO THE PLANE-

Weiss:...wait, wasn’t there all ready a dongle on your eyes? Where did it g-

Maria: SILENCE FOR I AM THE GRIMM REAPER!

Usually not one to point out continuity errors but THERE ya go! ALSO-a few continuity errors doesn’t mean the show is bad, SUCK A DICK RWDE TAG-you Cinemasins copycats.

After Weiss reminds Maria that her eyes are broke as shit to which Maria rebuffs with a silly finger wagging, EVERYTHING is fine-

Ruby: Blake your up...Blake...

BLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAKE?!

-and by fine I mean fine for their standards, which is utterly chaotic and full of terror.

Ruby: YANG YO GIRL AIN’T PICKING UP THE PHONE!

Yang: Did you try texting her instead?

Ruby: OF COURSE I DIDN’T WE’RE BASICALLY ON WALKY TALKIES RIGHT NOW!

Yang: I KNOW I JUST USE HUMOR TO SHIELD MYSELF!

ALSO-

YUP-everyone’s kept their same phone pic since season 1, bunch of LAZY huntspeople they is.

A CUT TO-

6:27 Every command room in every science fiction thing-EVER-because television!

Obviously they figure out the plane is flying back into their own airspace, forcing Maria to use the old HUNTRESS CHARM-

Nubuck: What's going on up there? Come in!

Maria: Uh, everything is under control. Situation normal.

Nubuck: What happened?

Maria: Uh, had a slight weapons malfunction. But, uh, everything's perfectly all right now. We're fine. We're all fine here, now, thank you. How are you?

Caroline: YOU BITCH-that’s from Star Wars!

Maria: Shit, I figured you’d be too dumb to remember.

Caroline: YOU TURN AROUND THIS MINUT...what’s that sound?

Maria: Oh that sound? That’s the sound of-

Maria: DEEEEEEEEEEEEEEZE NUTS!

Weiss: WHY IS EVERY OLD PERSON I KNOW INSANE?!

So quick recap...in a recap, Cordo is onto them, Blake is STILL not responding...and that’s it. What, you expect a joke about some sort of dance being the day after today? NO LONGER!

Either way, Yang and Bumblebee are in FULL chase!

Yang: I’M COMING ALMOST GIRLFRIEND-whom I’m not sure if we’re official or not-BUT THE SUB-TEXT IS EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEVERYWHERE!

In times like this, its ALWAYS good to gain advice from our elders-

8:15

Qrow: Everything’s fucked, its all my fault, we’re all gonna die.

...okay maybe not AAAAAAAAAAAAALWAYS good.

Ruby then tells Qrow to shut the fuck up in the politest way she can, even saying she still wants him on their side (lord knows I’d bench Mr.Sadpants here) and that everyone there is there by choice and will do everything in their power to help out.

Qrow: Hmph...how did you grow up so fast?

Ruby: *Cute Pause* I had good rolemodels.

Qrow:...okay that’s Tai and...uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuh...Summer?

Ruby: Yes but also you, I obviously also meant you.

Jaune: We’re willing to accept this has just been a bad season for you given how cool you looked in the last three seasons.

Qrow: *SNIFF* Youse is some good kids.

Its at this point that Caroline Cordovine being the responsible specialist she is, would send in fighters to take down Weiss and Maria’s plane-

Caroline: PREPARE TO FACE MY LOVE, MY PAIN, AND ALL OF MY ANGER!

Maria: Oh yeah because G Gundam quotes are JUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUST as timely! 

Caroline: FUCK YOU I HAVE A LASER GUN!

*MEANWHILE IN ATLAS HQ*

Winter: Um...General Ironwood sir...I have news from Argus-

James: Please tell me that crazy lady we stuck there didn’t activate the doom mech to take out ONE small plane.

Winter:...well...I won’t tell you then.

James: DAMMIT-that thing costs MONEY!

At this point the PLAN has changed, Ruby’s gonna need Weiss on the ground to take down this boss-mech from Starfox 64. And WHERE is Blake you might ask?

STEPPING ON HER SCROLL LIKE A CLUTS-although I AM amazed after being bent like that, it only has a small crack and a RIDICULOUSLY intact picture....I want a scroll. EITHER WAY-I hope Blake has an excuse for being so carele-

SHIT-its crazy pants, keep running Blake, stomp on SIX scrolls if you have to!

11:45

Adam: THIS IS MY REVENGE FOR DUMPING ME AT PROM!

Blake: A.) It wasn’t prom, it was a terrorist attack, B.) Your nuts, and C.) WE WERE NEVER OFFICIAL!

And then CLING-CLANG-CLUNG-swordfight between our beloved Faunus princess, and one CREEPY ass bull man-CLOSING IT OUT-

-with one HELL of a stand off!

DAMN good episode, outside of that continuity ep I pointed out, an utterly great mix of action and humor. With that, SEE YOU NEXT WEEK-on Micksterecap! And if you liked what you read, message me if you wanna donate to my paypal or Kofi!

[zydrateacademy]

Review - Rage 2

I have little to no experience with the first Rage. I have about two hours on it, last played five years ago. I remember a lot of brown, and I think I immediately quit because it didn’t engage me very much. To the surprise of everyone, last year we get a teaser trailer set to Andrew WK’s “Ready to Die” in a semi live action setpiece telling everyone that Rage has returned, and it’s gonna be wacky! In practice, it’s just a very colorful shooter. A fairly decent one, but it lacks the general humor that Borderlands has, which yields a common comparison. Indeed, Rage 2 feels like a union between Mad Max (the driving), Borderlands (the environment), and DOOM (the gunplay). This review will have several comparisons to all three, but I’ll try to explain the systems so my readers won’t require previous knowledge of other games. I’ll start with the game’s main selling point, the zany gunplay and abilities. You play as Walker, gender of your choice but you cannot customize them as they both essentially exist as their own beings in this world. You are some kind of military trainee in a fairly safe and stable stronghold that gets annihilated in the first fifteen minutes of the game by an organization called “The Authority”. You put on a suit of armor of a now-extinct sect of “Rangers”, you being the last one in an impromptu promotion. This armor facilitates all of your guns and abilities. Even the guns are acquired through ARKS dotted around the land that are specifically designed for rangers and their suits, so right off the bat you’re more or less more equipped than every bandit in the wasteland.

Other than some odd key bindings to start with, the abilities and guns feel very good. One of the first you acquire is imminently useful, as it was designed to shatter armor of the enemies (and the ability is in fact called “Shatter”). This is also very satisfying as you play through the game, whether you use that ability or shoot it all off, you can actually see mob’s armor plating fly off as you whittle them down. It’s a good signifier as any that they’re ready to be killed outright. Considering the game shares much more with DOOM than with Borderlands, enemies are not at all bullet sponges. Most enemies can be taken out in just a couple shots, or a single headshot. The armor is what makes them spongey, but you’re very quickly given the tools to deal with it. Other abilities include a bullet barrier, a ground slam, a super sprint, a dash, a vortex that pulls enemies in and detonates, an overdrive, and a few others. Considering that DOOM developers have worked on this, this is not a cover shooter. Everything is designed to keep you moving and shooting and the set of abilities you acquire serve this goal incredibly well, and the gunplay is very fun. However, like Mad Max (from Avalanche Studios, which also served as developers here) strongholds don’t tend to respawn which leaves my usual fare of sandboxing starting to dry up just 11 hours into the game. I’m starting to get the feeling that the game is rather short, and I wish it took a similar idea from recent Far Cry games to reset the strongholds, maybe add some extra difficulty to it, and let us play it all again. I do not believe there is a New Game Plus at this time, so when I’m done, I’m done. This is essentially a twenty to thirty hour game it feels, so take that as you will.

Everything can be upgraded as well, DOOM-style. This is not Borderlands, and you will be staring at the same guns throughout your experience. There are about ten of them though (two from the preorder bonus, or potential DLC) and you can change their capabilities, level them up, and add extra mag sizes, reload speeds, and so on. They’ll function differently as you see fit but I find myself defaulting to the assault rifle you acquire, upgradable with armor piercing rounds which really tear through most enemies.

Returning from Mad Max are the convoys, one of my favorite mechanics from that game. There were only a handful there, and this game serves many more and they’re certainly more engaging in their own way. They boast an entire caravan with a War-Rig like truck that serves as its own boss (complete with a health bar), where you must wipe out the allies and then hit “weak points” that pop out periodically. I’m not sure if they constantly spawn or are as temporary as the strongholds, but I do enjoy them.

So the gunplay is good, the environment is interesting to look at. There’s plenty of lights, colorful characters, and even trees and wildlife in certain zones. The writing leaves something to be desired. For example you get a Borderlandsy splash screen introducing a few characters, one of which was “enjoys manipulating others, and once tortured a guy just to get his approval”. Meeting him just screamed “This guy is going to betray the fuck out of you”. Sure enough...

So let’s move on to some points I have “mixed” feelings about.

As I alluded to with the guns, this isn’t really a Loot-N-Shooter. It’s just a shooter. Everywhere there are chests to get “feltrite”, the main upgrade currency. You also get money, which also helps buy upgrades outright as well as ammo for you and your vehicle. There’s even an upgrade just to help you triangulate and find these chests so you don’t abandon every stronghold at 3/4 chests found because it’s hiding in a tiny alcove somewhere, but sometimes I do it anyway because it kind of kills too much time when you’re running around for a while. The gameplay encourages constant moving, shooting, and ground-slamming, but after a while you actually run out of things to do all of that with. To the game’s credit, it doesn’t make Anthem’s mistake of “go here, kill everything”. Sometimes you defend a pylon, sometimes you shoot fuel tanks, sometimes you destroy a power silo. All of which involves a lot of shooting but none of this respawns or comes back.

In relation, the map does feel a bit small. After gaining reputation with a certain main character, you’re awarded the Icarus, which is a flight vehicle. No weapon capabilities and it’s made out of paper but it’s very useful for transit. I’d almost recommend not using it at all, but it does help nab a few points of interest that you wouldn’t necessarily drive past on wheels, as some things you need to actively search for rather than drive by. As I said before, after 11 hours it feels as though I’ve complete most of the side-stuff already. Side missions can be picked up in towns but they’re much simpler and less interesting than the main story itself, and there’s little reason to do them.

The game is also very buggy. I suffer a crash to desktop (no error message or anything) every couple of hours. Much more often the game will freeze on me for an extended period of time (forty-five seconds or more) before coming back to me. I was on a “clear out the bandits” objective and one of the enemies was clipped into a building. Thankfully the “Shatter” ability has some AoE capabilities that got through the wall and I got him eventually. Those are the main three I’ve suffered but if you read around, you’ll no doubt find much more. These aren’t the usual funny “dragons flying backwards” Bethesda bugs, these are actually game breaking and rage inducing.

Oh, Bethesda. What has happened to you? It felt like it’s just been a couple years since you were the gaming community’s golden boy. It really all went downhill with Fallout 76 (which I’m still waiting on single player and modding capabilities) and has never really recovered. Yes, their new fare of “microtransactions” are here. I don’t normally have a hate-on for cosmetic shops like the community as a whole does but in Rage 2 it’s particularly pointless. It has some gun skins, both of which can be acquired in game. The golden skins are 10,000 dollars in certain shops (which is a lot, mind you) and the other ones can be acquired by farming the Mutant Bash TV enough. I enjoy the mutant-killing arena but I find it’s far too damn easy, and it really needed extra difficulty levels attached. Those skins cost 2500 MBTV tokens and you can get ~1500 every run you do. Considering how easy it is, I earned most of them in like, an hour. Now let’s get to some of the things I actively hate.

I don’t like the driving. Not nearly as much in Mad Max, anyway. The convoys are indeed still fun and more rewarding than Max’s were. To Max’s credit, that entire game was built around the car being a major mechanic and hell, even plot point and Max’s entire motivation. In Rage 2 it’s more of a sideshow. The cars don’t feel like they have much weight to them (at least, not until you spin them out and try to push yourself out of a ditch, which I often do) and when I was given the flying Icarus, I felt little point in returning to the sassy-AI that hosted the Phoenix, the only car you can upgrade and customize.

To wit, I actually quite despise the driving in certain contexts. Early in the story you have to impress someone enough to enter his suite. To do so you must play through the Mutant Bash TV (fun, but easy) and... a race. You enter the race and the NPC there tells you that you’re starting on the bottom. Now, in other games this means they usually give you idiots for AI. The first race in GTA5 was laughable, and even in Mad Max their one main “race” was actually just a deathmatch with a six minute timer. This newbie race in Rage 2 actually made me Rage-Quit the night the game was released. They give you their own car, every other racer has the same one and they actually match your speed. At any given point I always had two to four other racers ahead of me at all times. You know what bots and AI don’t do? Make mistakes. They never spun out, rammed into each other, or hit a wall unless you yourself did all that to them. After getting a night’s sleep and three tries in the morning later, my only strategy was to ignore the other drivers and concentrate harder than I ever have in a game. I basically had to do a perfect run, not hitting anything. I did so well and ALMOST lost the ENTIRE race to one single spinout near the end of the track. When I won, I could hear one or two car engines right on my tailpipe. They never lost traction like I did, and that’s just garbage.

I hated it. I do not look forward to dealing with this required mission in future playthroughs. By the way, it’s required to unlock an entire upgrade tree.

One final point of annoyance before I summarize my thoughts ultimately. This one is much more minor but it actually irritates me more than the driving does because this one is a constant threat. Every time you clear an objective, no matter how quick or small, you get an unskippable popup announcing your victory and rewards, as well as the reputation gain. This could have so easily been put on the side, like they do their radio-bound dialogues. Instead it completely stops the show and I find myself slamming the enter key so I can skip it the very split second it allows me to do so. In a game that wants you to keep moving, in a very successful and fun way, this thing is just a complete show stopper and I don’t know how their beta testers weren’t yelling “Come on, let me PLAY!” constantly. Ultimately, I do feel like there’s a good game to be had here. The cosmetic store is easily ignored and beyond that, you’ll have to deal with some bugs, janky driving, and bullshit “OBJECTIVE COMPLETE” popups. If you can deal with that, you’re left with some excellent gunplay and skillfully crafted environments. It’s not as long as I had hoped, and I really expected more to justify an eighty dollar preorder but I have not at all hated the experience.

[etherealblasphemy]

the story that doesn’t know what genre it wants to be

my brain had an idea for a sci-fi/adventure/dystopia story, and here we are. we have the wonderful Sanders Sides in the starring roles, along with some ocs because I needed to put the name “calrex bennova” somewhere. enjoy my headcannons as offering #1 :)

The Universe:

-Made up of thousands of galaxies, what we mortals call “AUs”

-Common languages include Laolae, Kirou, Aresan, and Falafel (I was hungry writing this)

-Rumors say that there is a dangerous creature lurking in the cold depths of space, but only conspiracy theorists on message holograms would believe that...

-Strings of galaxies are often ruled under one leader, because most species are kind and have their act together unlike humans

-Speaking of humans, Earth is dead. :) there was a great meme war (haha no, it was something much more dark...)

-Logan, Roman, Patton, and Virgil are all outlaws aboard the ship Sanders Yersinia, all with prices on their heads.

Logan:

-A highly advanced prototype of AI-ingrained people. They look like people, function like people, but don’t have icky emotions get in the way of reasoning and judgement.

-Oops Logan’s creator made a mistake so Logan does have something resembling emotions.

-His original name is L.O.G.I.C., but whatever it stood for was lost to a fire, in which Logan’s creator also perished. Patton called him Logan by accident, and the name just stuck.

-He is wanted for trying to break into a laboratory to “fix” himself and reprogram himself.

-Logan is quiet and suffers from love... of learning. He unfortunately doesn’t have infinite memory, so he sometimes must delete some of his knowledge in order to acquire new information.

-He is actually connected to the Cloud, which remained after Earth screwed themselves, so he understands all human languages and also has a secret habit of going onto human websites like Tumblr and YouTube. (He enjoys book commentaries and audiobooks.)

-The most mature of the crew of Sanders Yersinia; plays adult way too often for his liking

Roman Prionsa:

-A usurped prince from the Galaxy DR-34-M (i’m not creative lololol),  on the run from the new King’s soldiers, who want to finish the job of destroying the royal family.

-The biggest idiot of the crew

-After Virgil introduced him to Disney, with the (unwilling) help of Logan, Roman won’t stop singing the songs and quoting them from heart. Virgil regrets his decision.

-He suffers from constant nightmares, in which his family is burned alive at the stake at the hands of the one who exiled him and he can do nothing but watch.

-Roman is very generous and understanding and gentle to everyone but can be extra and obnoxious with the flip of a Bitch Switch, which has landed the crew in several less-than-optimal situations.

-One time Roman tried to out-flirt a mermaid on an aquaterrestrial planet and ending up burning down a couple trees and getting his head blown up double its size by said mermaid. (“It’s finally big enough to fit your ego!” -Virgil)

-Despite his overly-dramatic “charm”, he won’t hesitate do run into battle if it means saving his crew members or innocent bystanders. He will also be extremely serious when the time calls for it.

-He occasionally wears make-up because a pRINCE HAS GOT TO SLAY

-Oh Roman also has butterfly wings he can unveil at any time and an everlasting flower crown/halo of light around his head. He was born glamorous.

Patton Hart:

-His real name is Pattryon Heartasea, but “Patton Hart” is so much easier to say (and it doesn’t autocorrect, so there’s that, too).

-He lived in a magical world called Noira, and is called a Drisine, also known as Shapeshifters.

-Patton’s “true form” is a woodland creature similar to a centaur, but galloping is not allowed in the ship, so he has to settle for running around as a human. Patton’s true form is beautiful, full of flowers and cookies and everything fluffy ever to exist. You will actually die if you look upon his true form (unless you’re a Drisine yourself) because no-one can handle something so pure.

-He has telekinesis, enhanced reflexes, and a larger spectrum of emotions.

-This makes it harder from him to articulate his feelings, leaving him feeling misunderstood and sad.

-The crew is known as the Patton Protection Squad, and will hunt down and destroy anyone who even looks at Patton wrong. They are alternatively known as the Virgil Protection Squad.

-Patton loves baking and enjoys visiting markets on whichever planet they visit to gain new recipes and is already to cook for his fellow crew mates.

-He is the closest thing the crew has to a fighter/soldier. But Patton doesn’t believe in hurting others who’re just doing what they’re told, so he refuses to fight, much to the dismay of everyone else.

-His crime is refusing to fight. Noira is very close to Roman’s home planet, and thus is also under the rule of Roman’s family. As a teenager Drisine (his seventies in human years), he refused to fight for the royal family because it was against his morals and was thusly imprisoned.

-Roman, on a tour on the castle in preparation for the day he would succeed his parents, saw Patton in a cell and immediately had him freed.

-Roman and Patton are now inseparable friends and will die for each other without hesitation.

Virgil Sorge:

-The last survivor from Earth. He witnessed its destruction and is now anxious that every little thing will destroy the last things he loves in his life.

-He was 20 when he was picked up by a alien ship surrounded by blue and red lights.

-He‘s quiet and moody and has really low alcohol tolerance, as discovered by Roman.

-One of the only things from Earth that he took with him is his hoodie, which his mother hand-knit for him for his sixteenth birthday and is basically the last thing he has to remind him of her.

-He knows every MCR, P!ATD, TOP, FOB, Green Day, Black Veil Brides, NateWantsToBattle, and Ivalo song there ever was (note: ivalo is not a real band, please don’t be confused when search results yield nothing about them).

-He’s overprotective of his crew members and is always the first one to offer medical help in any situation.

-Virgil is Logan’s apprentice. Logan knows there will be a day that he will break, so he’s training Virgil to do all of his jobs when that day comes. Virgil, of course, just thinks Logan wants to show off his knowledge, but he’ll do anything that’ll prove his worth.

-Virgil technically never committed any crime, he was just so grateful to be saved from the dying Earth that he fought alongside the crew and eventually people just decided four troublemakers in jail is better than three.

Calrex Bennova:

-My OC who I love. go and fight me. You can’t win against someone with a name this cool.

-Calrex is from a planet lost to time and space. They hardly remember anything from their past, other than screaming and their parents’ silver eyes full of tears. (Foreboding, I know. You’re welcome my brain writes nothing but angst)

-If they were human, they were be a mix between Alaskan Native American, Latinx, East Asian, and Pacific Islander. They basically look like a fusion between Yuuri Katsuki, Moana, Miguel from Coco, and an Inuit (I can’t name any Alaskan Native Americans because there’s NO REPRESENTATION in the media).

-They’re originally found by the crew in a dark back alley behind a pub called “Sleeping Stars” and are taken into the crew because 1. they’re a badass bitch and the crew needs an actual fighter and 2. they have some pretty rough injuries.

-When they wake up, they freak because why are they in a spaceship? and why is someone watching them as if they care? and if they don’t want to claim the bounty on their head, and they don’t want their body, what the fUCK DO THEY WANT? FRIENDSHIP?

-Cal is known intergalatically as “The Pirate” because they have a history of petty offenses. Oh, and they also are rumored to have wiped out an entire galaxy without mercy. But even Cal doesn’t remember that, so...

-They always wear combat boots. Always. Even to bed.

-Their first night in the ship, they refuse to sleep with everyone else in the Dorms, so they sleep in the Control Center on the floor. But a mysterious member of the crew brings a sleeping Cal a blanket and a pillow :) kindness still exists, happily

Thomas:

-The Sanders Yersinia’s A.I.

-Loves making puns, overanalyzing every possible outcome of every possible situations, informing their passengers of useful information at the worst possible moment, and playing Disney songs to wake Roman up from his beauty sleep.

-Logan even designed an avatar for Thomas that appears on the screen, though only his waist above is ever shown.

-He can never be sad. Ever. You are doomed to always have an optimist’s perspective at the worst of moments.

woooo I think this is long enough for now. AnYwHo, I hope you enjoyed reading my first attempt at creating an AU; hopefully I didn’t bore you all to death. Apparently some of you all actually wanted this, so here’s my first attempt at a tag list (so many firsts aaaaaahhhhhh...)

@asofterfan

@alix-the-skeleton

@hufflepuffsscrewdriver

@v-blue-writer

thank you all for wanting this and actually motivating me to write something :)

[lucexworth]

“Thanatophobia is like a light in the middle of the night that spreads its flames on the objects it will soon consume.”-– Louis, chevalier de Jaucourt, for Diderot's Encyclopédie

A study in death anxiety between two men who keep dying. A lot.

A Kingfield fic because I’ve lost control of my life. I should be writing my papers. 

Fic under the readmore because it be like that sometimes.

Between the howling and the haze of the storehouse, the distant squeal of someone’s breath being ripped from their lungs, and the paranoia that any time spent not in motion would greet you with a crown of corvids; Macmillan’s home gives way to a fear that does not force you to scream. Rather, Macmillan’s home fosters the sort of enveloping anxiety that can only spawn from the entity. Whoever begged it for the fog, however, could fuck right off into the spider-legged abyss.

  It isn’t the creeping dread that gets to David, but whoever was erratically blowing the generator on the far end of the property. No matter who it was, they’re about to either have a faceful of bonesaw, or a faceful of fist. Forget that he, himself, had been bleeding since the start of the match. A handicap unto himself for the sake of adrenaline and adrenaline alone. Whoever was inconveniencing him, was about to have a much worse time. That much was simple. He knows damn well that there are only two left, and the kickback of a failing engine grates on him more than the actual sound of the nurse’s wheezing.  It’s simple. You repair the generator, leave, repeat.  

  Another miss, the generator crackling with all the mechanical dysfunction it could muster. At this point, whoever’s wasting time is either an idiot or deliberate. But judging how David had previously seen Meg hauling ass out of the storeroom, and Ace’s luck seemed to have entirely choked early match leading to a pitiful escape attempt, there’s only one answer.  Sputtering a string of incoherent swears, David slinks along the back wall of the property, keeping an eye out for any possible streaks of white or screaming. At any particular noise, he stops, dead in his tracks. Another screech, and he moves.

  Another miss, yet again, and he’s standing behind Dwight, who has yet to look behind himself, David still keeping an eye on the nurse, whenever she did blink into view. The lack of care, or blatant distraction was starting to get to him.

 “You enjoy fuckin’ around with your life, Fairfield?” A blunt statement, loud enough to hear over the manual cranking of the gaskets. Dwight starts, shoulders going tense, only to have David reach over him and press his hand against the generator to avoid another eruption. “The fuck’s with you?”

  There’s silence, only collapsed by the near shriek of the nurse and Meg yelling some chain of expletives in regards to “Teleporting-through-trees-fucking-bullshit”. In any other case, David might have barreled out into the open himself, cackling about Meg’s agitation and “Baghead” being seemingly off her game. Instead, he draws his hand from the generator and presses his hand against the concavity between Dwight’s shoulder blades.

  “You’re bleeding.” Dwight finally mutters, hands finally becoming more still. “How are we supposed to get out if you basically stab yourself the second you get in the lot?”

  “Ya do a generator, then ya leave.”

  “Shut up. You know it’s not that simple.”

  David draws his hand back, only to crouch on the other side of a generator, prying at old wires and waiting for a further explanation. A generator in the distance howls with a newfound power, only to be followed by the a distant wheeze and Meg’s yell- finally hit. David flinches prematurely, and Dwight flings his hands up as the sparks fly. The heartbeat never comes. David continues, staring down at his work.

  “You ever think one of these days we’ll die and that’ll be it?” Dwight mutters, barely audible under the clattering of metal. “Like, maybe Ace isn’t back at the campfire, but just. You know.”  

  David doesn’t look up. “Don’t be a right fuckin’ idiot about that. We always come back.”

  The cranking stops, and David peers over to see Dwight still crouched on the floor with his hands on his knees. Prayer-like. Meditative. As if he’s trying to center himself in the oppressive fear of death. David knows the nurse has this effect on people, but fears be damned if it didn’t drive him mad with a weird aggressive sense of superiority. Or some miasma of despondency.

  “Look, ya always tell people ya need them to survive so you survive. You’re fuckin’ lucky I happen t’ be someone damn capable of keeping people alive. Have some faith.”

  “Don’t be stupid.” Dwight shoots back, fingers tracing the underside of the generator. “You go looking for fights, and consequences be damned if you get hurt. As far as I’m aware, you’re more help off a hook than on one.”

  There’s a vague pulse, and David stands; not so much insulted by being told to shut up, but impressed. “A’right, ya made your point. Now get th’ fuck outta here.”

  “What?”

 “I said get out.”

  There’s a beat as Dwight stands, only to be shoved out of the ring of debris as the nurse enters the ring, Meg bolting after her and gesturing to the generator. Between Dwight and Meg on opposite perimeters, David realizes he’s in for an awful fucking match. Her saw raises, still covered in what he assumes is fresh gore, and barely misses. David darts from the ring, towards the storehouse, trying to drag her as far from the gen as possible. Muscle memory from  bar fights and debt collecting, he knows damn well how to run and evade like a madman.

  Consequences be damned.

  He runs through the storehouse, spiraling between shelves of materials and a lit generator, hoping to lose her by the third blink. If the gates open, the other two can go. That’s all he needs, right now. For people to get the fuck out. He manages for three cycles, only dizzying himself slightly in the mess before launching himself out a broken window on the side of the storehouse. A lethal mistake, knowing damn well he couldn’t remember if she had blinked twice or three times before clattering out the windowpane.

  For the record, he assures himself as the bone saw cleaves through his shoulder and his face hits the dirt, it was two.

  The generator sputters to life around the same time he lets out a bark of pain, rolling forward with his elbow as the nurse watches, lifting herself through the window and pulling him off the floor. David hisses through his teeth, wriggling in her grasp and driving the heel of his palm into the back of her neck. The whole cycle is graceless as she hovers about the side of the building, only to return inside and descend the staircase. Another hard smack to her neck, with no luck. David curses himself in the red haze of the room, flung haphazardly onto a hook in such a way that the rust and blood finds its way back into his shoulder through the previous wound. The yell breaks into an agitated howl, throwing his leg out in an aggressive kick towards the nurse as she vanishes up the stairs.

  Somehow, the bullshit of it all reminds him of another bar fight, the feeling of being clobbered over the head with a bottle of scotch in the moment you think you’ve done enough. You made a point, and now your point is laying with you in the starry haze of your own blood. If they knew anything about anything, the other two would leave. Appease the stupid god of the woods with some flesh and blood, lick their wounds, and get a good night’s sleep. He knows what it’s like to be taken apart and wake up reassembled under the willows. He can take it.  There’s been worse.

  His body goes limp on the hook, somewhere between resignation and the forced self-assurance that the others are smart enough to leave and carry on. His eyes close, ready for the event to end and the entity to scramble to collect whatever it desires at any second.

  “To quote someone I know, the fuck is with you?” The whisper comes as a shock, and David is quick to open his eyes and stare down the man in front of him. “Since when do you just sit there-“

  “Get me down or leave me, don’ sit here an’ lecture me when she’ll be back any second.” David is quick to interrupt, teeth gritting as he feels the subtle rattling of the hook. “Fuckin’- pick one.”

  He barely has time to gripe before Dwight is grumbling underneath him, heaving him off the hook and back onto the floor of the basement. David stumbles, nearly collapsing into him with all the grace of a pile of bricks. He reels back, planting his feet firmly on the ground and giving Dwight a look that only dared him to make some comment about blood loss, near-death-ness or whatever the hell the lesson was. When nothing comes but an exhausted look, the two bolt out from the basement, Dwight seemingly convinced that David should stay a pace or two behind him.

  They follow one another, silent up to the nearby gate, Meg already long gone. The exit is clunky and awkward, but fast all the same.

  The terseness of the air is oppressive.

-

   The campfire is crowded as usual, stories being passed around as a cheap cover up for the ever persistent feeling of doom. Save for two survivors, on the outskirts of the woods. No words come, for awhile. They stand, backs to the camp, staring into the vast nothing of the Entity’s realm. The wind howls, something like a warning to turn back. Go sit at the fire, it warns. No philosophising. Don’t dismantle your dread.

  “You know, I ended up here because I got left in the goddamn woods.” Dwight admits to nobody in particular, cleaning his glasses. “Left to die by some drunk co-workers.” The spite is raw in his throat, and David knows that vague sense of shame. The abandonment.

  “Least you didn’ jus’ wander in like a right fuckin’ idiot.” He laughs, trying to give some kind of support. Dwight gives him a look, but it begs for nothing other than the joking to stop.

  “You think about it too, don’t you.”  Dwight says firmly, still facing the horizon. “About dying, y’know, for real.”

  “Pretty sure I’m already dead ‘for real’.” David states bluntly. “Far as my mates are concerned, I got brained out in some fight with some punks, an’ outright ghosted after that. Nothin’ left.”  

  “So you think we’re all dead?” Dwight asks, finally turning to face David, who’s staring at him fairly hard. As if he doesn’t want to be having this conversation for some collection of reasons. David realizes he must seem outwardly put out by the whole deal upon hearing the tone question. Worry.

  Why the fuck does he have to worry?

  David sucks air through his teeth as if he’s been punched in the stomach, looking away for a moment. “I didn’ say we’re all dead. Said I think I’m dead.”

  He looks back to see Dwight closer, brow furrowed. It’s not long before there’s a hand on his face, tracing the scar on his lip with a cross between nervous curiosity and a vague sense of outright compassion. It’s out of left field, almost. David’s hand settles barely above Dwight’s hip on reflex, keeping him within reach.

  “You don’t feel more dead than anyone else.” Dwight states, quiet. “Depressed, maybe. Not dead.”

  He nearly flinches at the accusation, but finds himself standing still. It occurs to him that the two of them have seemingly skipped some sort of steps, cordial friendship or whatever the hell preceded emotional support and post-near-death preening. But, here they are, assuring one another about their existing mortality and their personal downfalls. Frankly, David prefers this over all of the exhaustive repetitive bullshit. When you’re dying with people every night, small talk is pointless.

  “You scare th’ shit outta me, sometimes.” David mutters, a half-laugh that only exists for a few seconds before being mentally strangled from existence. “Watchin’ you put your hands on a generator? Feels like I’m ‘bout t’ witness someone  lose their fingers.”  

  Dwight rests his head against David’s collar, hands falling around him with a sense of exhaustion. “Take it up with my anxiety, then.” His voice is quiet, with the same bare amusement.  

  “Thought anxiety gets worse with th’ crowds.” David says, hand ghosting over Dwight’s back.

  Dwight sighs in response, still pressing close. “Yeah, if it’s social anxiety. Or claustrophobia. But, I just don’t like thinking about dying- or other people dying. I freeze up.”

  “Sounds like you don’t really fancy bein’ left alone.” David says, fairly quiet. Being insightful was never his strongest suit, but he knows a problem when he sees one. It doesn’t take much for Dwight to agree with him, either.

  “I hate it.”

  A longer silence, the two keeping close and fixating on the fact that whatever baggage they’ve been carrying around has been laid at each others feet. Maybe it’s the exhaustion from the dredging of emotion, maybe it’s the sheer relief of letting go. David can’t quite make out why Dwight’s hands begin to shake- grabbing at his sweater with some ragged desperation.

  A panic attack?

  No, not enough curling in on himself, his heart rate still arguably low. He shudders at the touch on his back, and David knows damn well this is the same erratic state he found him in earlier. Except more vulnerable, somehow. He presses his mouth to the top of Dwight’s head, reflexive in his protectiveness. Trying to keep him close and away from whatever eeking panic was trying to make its way through to them.

 “Calm down.” He states, albeit vaguely gruff and unhelpful.“ I’m here, so you know damn well you’re not alone.”  

 “I-“ Dwight starts, hands tensing. “I get that. I know that. Just. Prove to me we’re alive, then. Anything. Show me that despite everything, the shitty booze, the hooks- we’re alive.”

 The command is desperate in it’s tone. Begging for some vindication to snub the irrational fear that trails along with each round of the entity’s game. Desperate to prove there’s hope, or light, or anything that isn’t the unforgiving reality that the loop will never yield. David, for once in his life, is speechless. At least for a few moments.

 The decision to kiss him was another haphazard combination of a sort of adrenaline-drunk and underdeveloped sense of touch starvation. Garnished with the idea that maybe there was something endearing about the smaller, quasi-neurotic man in his arms. The drive to want to do something stupid is there, however, he finds himself trying to do anything to make himself feel alive, too.

 It doesn’t help that he’s a little too into the feeling of tense hands vaguely scratching at his back, like Dwight considers scrambling away. When David pulls back, he’s only met with another, desperation sinking in. David only slightly stumbles forward, an attempt to brace himself against a tree with Dwight between him, slightly pinning him. There’s a small whine, but Dwight keeps particularly close, content enough to relax when David pulls away to get another look at him.

 “Alive enough?” He asks, his tone conveying a bizarre loudness without the sound. He seems proud, almost. Impressed with the energy and the motion of the entire act.

 “For now.” Dwight says, quiet enough to only barely be heard. His hands have stopped shaking, sliding away from David’s back with slight hesitation as he pulls forward. The two let go of eachother, but still stand in close proximity, staring at the small blaze of light flickering between the trees. The silence loses it’s tension, melting into something comfortable. A state of understanding and acceptance in the moment, with fear finally subsiding.

 For now is the state of life in the entity’s realm, where the wind stops howling, for now. The campfire is lit, for now.

  They are all alive, for now.

  And that is good enough.

[sinnhelmingr-a-blog]

A Softer Love

"There are two types of love. True love, and the love we actually get."

"I would love you more if you were someone who could love me."

"Our love was doomed, a burning building, a broken neck. But nothing since you and me even feels like love."

"I want everyone to love me and I'm pretty sure the trick is to just be myself, but with money."

"I can only infer that love exists from its effects on others."

"I will always love you, or anyway I will always have loved you now."

"You are the love of my life so far."

"Will you still love me when I am a spooky ghost?"

"I'm in love with the you I wish you were. I only stay with you because you look like him."

"Sometimes even love isn't enough. So what chance do WE have?"

"I wish being in love was enough. I wish it counted for anything at all."

"I hate it when you leave but I love to look at your butt while you walk away."

"Yeah, maybe we all die alone. I masturbate alone, too. Sometimes."

"Sometimes when two people love each other it's really unfortunate."

"I don't believe each person has just one true love, but sometimes we don't have enough time to find another."

"If love lasted forever, we'd only ever get one."

"Just once I'd like to fall in love with someone? who will ruin things before I do."

"Ah, unrequited love. When your best isn't enough."

"I am terrified I will never find another love like ours."

"I want to carve our initials in the bark of everyone who ever hurt you."

"I love the way your face lights up when someone says, "It might be dangerous.""

"All I ever wanted was love, until you loved me."

"Our love is like an animatronic pigeon. No! It's like a sex party on the moon! Also I am a bit drunk."

"I want people to tell their children terrifying stories about the things we did for love."

"When you get that look, nobody is safe. It's why I first fell in love with you."

"You are a good person and I love you. This just isn't the life I hoped I'd have."

"Marriage isn't just between a man and a woman, it's between any two people who love each other and want to ruin their lives."

"Our love is a forest fire and we are the little things that live in the trees."

"Sometimes I think you might fall in love with someone else and all my problems will be solved."

"I keep all my old love letters, but to be honest I just skim them for the dirty bits."

"It would be easier to deal with falling out of love if it hadn't somehow made the sex exciting again."

"Unrequited love is a waste of time. Just walk it off. There. I said it."

"If our love lasts forever it's gonna get real awkward when one of us dies."

"There are just two things that make life worth living. The people you love, and sweet pranks."

"I love those quiet moments in the dark where you can stop pretending."

"I don't know what the fuck true love even is but I do want to hang out with you for basically the rest of my life."

"I said I'd love you forever, and really meant it at the time. I guess that's my problem. A failure of imagination."

"I know I can't make you love me. But I wish I could make you shut up about not loving me."

"Our love is a meteor impact, a super volcano erupting. We won't survive but we won't die bored."

"At first I was angry you had fallen in love with someone else, but you seem so happy now I didn't even know you were sad."

"You don't love me, but you used to. I wanted to say thank you for that."

"You and I will never be a great love story. That's ok! Let's see what kind of story we'll be."

"When I picture you with your new lover I get angry, and then sad, then kind of horny."

"I lost the woman I loved and now all I have are my father's well-meaning words, "Maybe now you can meet a nice man.""

"I have loved since you. But when the new paint gets scratched, there you are underneath."

"She's like an angel. My family loves her but I just don't believe anymore." 

[nauseateddrive]

CAN YOU SWIM by Hister Grant

“Can you swim?” She’s hopping with anxiety, speaking with an American accent and robustly built.

“Uhh, yeah.” I glance at her then look back at him struggling in the canal, splashing his arms and trying to wave them.

“Well do something!!” She is disbelieving of me.

“No” I say, casually and pause, then shout to him “You’re going to die!!” the faces he’s pulling don’t change but he’s heard me, how could he not have, we’re his only hope, he must be fixated on us.

“What?” she says, her voice tiny, full of either disappointment or awe.

I pause again. Then decide to ignore her.

See: I hate people, or rather I hate faces in the crowd, as my therapist put it. He said you can’t hate everybody, I suppose that’s because people are complicated and because of the painfully trite adage: ‘everyone’s different’. My parents for example: I feel something else for them other than just dislike. I hate faces in the crowd; I hate everybody before I meet them but then sometimes they’re ok.

Maybe this cunt would be ok, but I prefer to see him die, there are a lot of ok people out there and this one, I can do without (really I feel like I can do without everybody, I have a constant feeling that the whole world around me is on fire and that makes me feel alone anyway, like everyone is really a ghost, which is weird but company can make me feel good so I sometimes put up with it.)

And here’s someone who’s truly about to become a ghost, out in the water dying. It’s funny, he is dying (ain’t nobody gonna come out and save him now) but his body isn’t dying (it’s not like he has some horrible case of emphysema or he ate poison or something) the world around him is killing him, dying from a terminal experience. Could you get a doctor to tell you he’s dying? Is the water seeping into his lungs like a cancer? Is someone who’s bleeding to death dying? Or is it only called bleeding to death after the fact?

Neither of us are looking at him now: she’s facing me and I’m starring off into the distance. Suddenly I’m very numb feeling, I look back down at him and stare hard, I can feel her fear beside me.

Watching someone drown is disgusting, it’s like watching someone be sick. What would be more disgusting though, is the gratitude he’d feel for me, he wouldn’t be ok then. But the moment for that has passed… I think. How would you feel about someone who watches you bleed a pint of blood from a bloody leg stump before stanching the flow?

Drowning (if that’s the process I’ve been watching) happens quite quickly when you can’t swim because he’s under the water in under a minute and then he’s dead and buoying back first back up to the surface.

Instinctively my head spins round to face her.

Fuck it!! Standing by and watching someone die when you could help them is either callous indifference or morbid indifference, either way it spells murder!!!

Gingerly she takes a step back from me and falls onto her backside. Quick as a flash I kick her as hard as I can in the face.

What do I do now? Stamp on her head?

She’s wiggling around on the ground crying.

I don’t like violence against woman but this, this will be different, I’m going to have to kill her but that has nothing to do with any cowardice of a wife beater, it’s self preservation.

For the first time this morning I’m panicked, she’s still writhing around on the ground like she’s taken too much ecstasy and I’m thinking stamping on her head is the best course of action: the police have my DNA and finger prints -long story, it wasn’t my fault -but they don’t have a the soles of my shoes prints, fucking cunts this isn’t my fault either (or at least it means nothing to me).

I walk up beside her head. “bitch” I shout, then bring my heel down hard on her nose. Blood gushes out of it which causes me to pause for a moment, then again, onto her mouth this time (which does neither of us any good). Eyes closed so tight it’s like she’s trying to crush her eyeballs she writhes her head onto its side and my heel comes down hard on her temple twice, that’s more like it but I’m not hearing anything crack.

Again, again, a-fucking-gain, nothing. She isn’t even unconscious, she rolls her head onto its back and looks up at me. She just looks sad. The whole of the bottom of her face is bloody.

I kick her in the ear, basically out of frustration and look around. No one on the horizon. Her skull is so fucking hard… what is she? Some sort of mongoloid? I look her over, she’s wearing a low cut grey top and a cardigan thing. I stare at her cleavage. Then my eye is caught by something else: ribs, I’ll just crack her ribs into her heart and lungs!! Fuck!! What a relief.

I position myself beside her shoulder and jump onto her tits and pogo on them, rather quickly to the sound of popping ribs. Then the whole structure of her chest collapses and my shoes feel like they plunge into jelly. I step off with my eyes on her face, her mouth making the biggest O in the world and her eyes bulging like they are being forced out, which perhaps they were.

I look at the body floating down the water, then lift up the soles of my shoes and inspect them (they’re spotless). I look at her caved in chest and bulging stomach. I really did a number on her. I look at her dead face, at a loss for what to do. I’m not fucking hiding these bodies… so I just leave? What if someone sees me? Then someone sees me I suppose… and who would imagine a person would do something so horrific -stupidest thought of the day. I’ll just leave.

I meander towards a group of trees. I pass one and vomit really hard, which is DNA evidence so I’m fucked.

I drop down onto my haunches, should I just go back? I feel completely light headed.

I think I will.

I meander back and sit down by her body. What a fucking mess. Fucking hell.

Looking at the horror show that is her corpse I wonder: would strangling her have been easier? It is apparently a very personal way of killing someone which I can sort of imagine (always have been able to, since I heard someone mention it in a true crime documentary). So I’m actually completely adverse to strangling someone, the thought of being so intimate with someone appals me.

I reach over and pull her handbag out of the crook in her arm. I unzip it and the first thing I pull out is a can of pepper spray. “ha, fuck”. I say and toss it into the canal. I pull out her purse and open it and go through the cards: driver’s licence (she’s called Brooke Hogan), credit cards, debit card, various store cards. I toss them all into the canal, then the money, coins which also go into the canal and notes that I throw into the air. I toss the purse into the water then go back into the bag and find a switch blade. I ping it open and feel it’s edge, it’s pretty dull. I put it down by my side. Then look straight ahead.

What a mess and here’s me at the centre of it. I’m doomed, fucking doomed!! Which is to say that I’ll be going to jail for a very long time. Twenty years perhaps.

I think on this but don’t really come up with anything. I suppose I don’t really care, I lean over and give Brooke’s body a playful shove.

So what now? Call the police on myself. I rummage farther through Brooke’s bag (I stopped when I found the knife), amongst the bits of paper, pens, two tampons and note book I find a phone, I toss it into the canal, I’m not fucking calling the police on myself. So I’ll wait to be discovered, by a dog walker or something.

I consider positioning Brooke’s body into an obscene pose a la Peter Sutcliffe and for a moment the absurdity of the idea delights me. I lean back, with my arms straight, on my hands and look into the distance at more trees, my last day of freedom!!

An hour later I’m as bored as hell and Brooke’s corpse has farted twice. I look around for the two thousandth time. Then let my eyes settle down by my side on the knife. I pick it up not being able to imagine her carrying it around with her and open it. The blade shoots out straight and I try its edge with my thumb again, it’s practically rounded. I try the other side which I evidentially had not before because it’s pretty sharp. It’s always satisfying to graze your thumb over a sharp edge and I enjoy doing it as I slowly put it back down to where I picked it up from.

“Fuu-uu-uu-uu-uu-uuck” I say after a few minutes. I look down at where the drowned man was but he’s long gone. So they probably won’t get me for that. But I swapped it for something a lot more extreme, Brooke’s eyes are just as wide and as horrorful as ever, the blood around her mouth has turned black and her jaw has slackened by quite a bit. I wonder at myself: all this mischief, what chaos!! I’m pleased with myself, even if I’ve fucked myself, I’m pleased to have perpetrated this madness, to have scarred the world with it. This idea settles me and I sit with it for a while.

Finally, and it’s quite a rush, I see someone. I stand up and start waving my arms at him. But he doesn’t see me.

Not fucking around I start to call for help over and over again in a bloodcurdling scream. The man starts to bolt towards me. I scream harder enjoying the sense of freedom it brings me, madly screaming for someone who’s running towards to me’s attention.

As he nears me I start laughing at him, he stops running as sharply ending up not five meters from me and I stop laughing.

“Look at what I did.” I say gesturing to my side, at Brooke with an open palm. And he does, still panting, he cranes his neck toward the body and slowly steps toward it as though he’s appraising it.

Standing over it, he gasps then collapses, his forehead slamming into her crushed nose. There is something anticlimactic feeling about this. Where’s the outrage? I was hoping for a screaming match or something.

Very anticlimactic, after standing slightly dismayed for a minute he still hasn’t moved, I approach the little pile of bodies looking very closely at this man. He isn’t breathing, I’m sure I can tell that. I put my fingers to the side of his throat and grapple around for a pulse but there isn’t one. I stand up straight and snort. I try to think for a second but my mind is blank, I go down onto my haunches, go into one of his pockets and pull out a wallet I snap it open, there’s a bus pass, it says his name is Aaron Edwards with a little picture of him beside it which I put up to my mouth and scream “CUNT!!” then hurl it into the water.

I’ve fucking had it, what to do? Should I just turn myself in? that puddle of vomit is a death warrant. I might as fucking well, I hunch down again beside Aaron, go into his other pocket and pull out a phone. “Excelsior!” I say, bouncing to my feet.

999

“Hello, yeah police, yeah. Hi, I’ve killed at least one person today…”

Hister Grant has been writing since he was 13.. He has written and self published one book, Suspend, which received very positive reviews.He left school when he was 14 as he spiralled into a pit of mental illness which though he is very heavily medicated continues to this very day. A cancer survivor he would describe himself as bitter but not angry. He enjoys extreme metal, extreme punk and the writing of Jacques Lacan, He identifies as asexual and is a moral nihilist.

[austinpanda]

Dad Letter 112419

24 November, 2019

Dear Dad--

Another week has come and gone! I’ve got my Christmas tree up, and it looks pretty good. It’s noticeably leaning to one side, which is weird. It’s on a flat surface, mostly (although it is covering up an odd dent in our floor). It’s a fake tree, and I know I put it together properly. I’ll go fuck with it later and make it symmetrical again. Santa isn’t going to like a drunk-looking Christmas tree!

Not gonna lie, this morning has been depressing so far. Our Sunday trip to the grocery store was vexing for all the crowded tumult. Seems like everybody realized at once that it’s the last Sunday before Thanksgiving, and rushed to the store to get their turkey. I’m okay with a crowded store. I can usually make it through a trip to the store without wanting to murder more than a small handful of people, other shoppers who park in the center of the aisle and block everyone’s movement, e.g. But Zach really dislikes crowded store. He got through it like a champ, though. $116 for groceries this trip, because of the turkey and fixin’s. 

So we come home, and it’s really cold, and it’s really gray, and it’s supposed to be snowing, but it’s not. I light up the crooked Christmas tree and think, “Fuck. We need jobs. I’m going to end up on a fishing boat, like The Perfect Storm, and have a job that’s dangerous and miserable every day, only to outright kill my ass when the weather goes bad.” We’re still doing okay on our savings, but their finite quality feels more apparent each day. Time to start generating income. And I can’t even get a job selling weed, because you have to be a Maine resident for four years to get the appropriate licensure. 

Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t exactly anticipating a job as a weed salesperson (the position is actually called “budtender”) because, even though I’d be selling exciting, ridiculously potent marijuana, and marijuana cookies, marijuana energy drinks, marijuana gummy dinosaurs, and marijuana T-shirts, I’d still be working retail. I’d still have a job where someone comes in, I try to educate (SELL TO) the customer, and, I suppose, encourage them to buy as much of our top shelf mowie wowie as the law allows, then ring them up. It’s RETAIL. I’d be exposed to the worst part of America, the “customer is always right,” America, the “I want to speak to your manager!” America. American consumers can be such abusive assholes. 

But I would have accepted that kind of work. Instead, I’m back to looking for boring stuff, like jobs at the university. Unless I happen to be a lecturer in math and physics, (I am not.) the only job they’re hiring for right now is: carpenter. I’m trying to make a Jesus joke about that, but I’m coming up dry.

It’s not all doom and gloom here! Like I said, our savings is holding up fine, and we’re going to have a big-ass meal on Thanksgiving, and I just took a minute to straighten the Christmas tree and it now looks much better. I’ll include a picture. 

Also, tonight, we’re going to try a Canadian comfort food called poutine. You may know all about poutine, but in case you don’t, it’s pronounced poo-teen, and it’s basically french fries, cheese curds (little blobs of fresh young cheese) and brown gravy. I’ve been familiar with it for so long I no longer think of it as weird, but now that I typed its description, I can see how it’s a bit weird. I wasn’t able to buy cheese curds in my grocery store in Texas. But here, thanks to our proximity to Canada, and the popularity of cheese curds in the American northeast and midwest, we can make our own poutine. I assume this is what Canadians eat when their favorite hockey team loses. It’s not much of a dinner, so we’re adding a salad. Now it’s classy!

Our job hunt will continue in earnest tomorrow, and I’ll probably poke around online today looking for work, but for now, I’m going to relax. I have put in a Christmas movie (Die Hard!) and I’m about to start some laundry. Here’s my plan to make tomorrow less of a kick in the emotional huevos, and get the week started off properly:

Last week, we actually managed to get voluntary exercise for two whole days in a row. We got up, put our snow boots on, applied about 10 layers of clothing, and went for a walk. Then we stopped doing it, because it was raining, or we were lazy. I think I’d like to start doing that regularly. I expect will help with lots of stuff, my emotional state, my cardiovascular, my occasional insomnia. 

And I’m going to commit myself more fully to my job hunt. I have to admit, most of the jobs I’ve applied for so far are jobs I wouldn’t really want to work at. To an extent, I think my job hunt wasn’t very fruitful last week because my heart wasn’t in it. This week, I shall stop half-assing it. I shall whole-ass it! I shall find several jobs that look genuinely interesting and try my best to get them, cover letters, pressed shirt, the whole nine yards. 

By this time next week, it’ll be December! And I’ll have some more positive news about my job hunt, and everything else. 

Much love to you both, and stay safe and warm!

[krakenator]

CHAPTER 9 aka “Let’s go lesbians!”

SPOILERS are sprinkled around extremely liberally for The Property of Hate

Masterpost here

Melody and Julienne join The Party! A singer, a dancer, and an actor make a triple threat baby!

Though the true triple threats out there are the people who can do all those things. I would put myself as an example but said Real Threats are people who can do it all well

…y’know we haven’t seen RGB dance but… it would not surprise me. My god. That’s why he’s so strong. He dances

Maybe the real triple threat was the object-heads we met along the way

Still on that opening page though, have I talked enough yet about Melody’s dialogue? Because a glissando is an excellent way to convey and agreeable hum.

Wow parents really were right that tv would rot my brain look at this poor doggo

Yo yo yo that’s the snail from the Pool of Tears in chapter 2!

So all I need to do to get Inspired is to lick a technicolor dream-snail, got it

Oh damn it, it’s a bright idea

Ey the picture frame clouds are back. Wow they are moving fast- heckuva wind

Oh yeah and TOby’s there. Enjoy the view lil buddy

Looks like the armchair Hero slept in at the House of Paint’s become more realized as a What. Wonder why it’s heading down to/past the Pool of Tears

How often do you think someone in this world goes to, like, hang their coat only to realize the coat-racks missing and just go “oh damnit it went sentient and wandered off. Well. Inconvenient. But godspeed I guess”

So I know the ball and chain Hero’s fashioned for her TV guide (FUCKIN JUST REALIZED THAT ONE) is rolled like like a yarn ball, but my boat-brain looked and it and said “monkeyfist. Big ol’ monkeyfirst for swinging around. Throw RGB REAL far”

How is modmad so good at speechbubbles. RGB’s shaken text/box is hilarious. Melody’s notes are connected by a beam, she’s beaming

rekted for the 11th time in 4 days

This is a good opportunity to take a moment for me to appreciate modmad’s HANDS. RGB’s hands are always exquisitely drawn. Like, the third panel especially, goddamn. Second appreciation is how damn expressive RGB is. I gushed about my love for the wives designs last chapter, I guess it’s finally time for RGB’s turn

For having NO ACTUAL FACE the man is supremely easy to read as a character. He doesn’t have eyes, yet you know when he’s smiling for real anyway! Looking back at the first few pages, that’s SUCH a fakey-fakers smile to the genuine ones seen throughout the rest of the comic. Combined with his body language- just fantastic

And then! The drooling! The initial reason I wanted to do a more thorough reread was when I realized the colors correspond to emotions and whatever RGB is feeling most strongly in any given moment, those are the colors he drips. Which is! Fantastic! It gives yet another avenue by which to see RGB’s character and an excellent supplement when the man is, again, emoting with NOT-A-FACE

His antenna crack me up. They start the comic so straight. So ironed out and spiffy and like 3 days into his newest Hero they are chronically crinkled up like tissue paper. It gives him this impression of being completely frazzled at all times, which. accurate

Back to your daily scheduled TPoH though; eeey, Assok’s speech-texture has some black triangles in here for copying Julienne’s words!

Yikes. RGB’s tried to take Heroes back before huh. Considering he hasn’t given up on his “save this doomed world” plan after all this time, how absolutely/repeatedly disastrous was “get my friend back home” for him to concede it as impossible??

Aaaand we’re off to the races Market!

RGB: LETS GO LESBIANS LETS GO!!

BIG DAMN SMOOCH! YES!! LOVELY! Also Julienne’s resting the blunt side of her knife on Melody’s head and I’m die

Melody’s dialogue is the symbol for a “natural” note. She’s replying “naturally, duh” to RGB’s question

If Julienne wasn’t already married to Melody I’d seduce that big instrument lady myself

Accept the compliment Assok! You did good!!

Random thought and back to RGB being stealth STRONK- Hero found the [—–] to be heavier than it looks and yet RGB is walking around with it all tied to one foot completely unimpeded

Im fucking snorting. The way RGB says “…that’s the sea.” Like he can’t believe Hero is being this dumb. If course it’s the sea! Obviously!

NO RGB, NOT OBVIOUSLY

D’you think if RGB saw how water and seas behave in our world he’s be equally bewildered as I was the first time I read this page

So I took the time to look up Julienne’s name and now im BIG MAD. Julienne is a way of cutting things into long thin strips! It’s a fucking culinary pun!!

Y-yo… that’s just a big damn eye.

AND/OR an impact crater. Except the ground they’re standing on wouldn’t be flat if that were the case

But it is also DEFINITELY a fairy ring, as the next page describes this is EXACTLY how fairy rings work

K so this entire page is just that one verse from “Cover is Not the Book”

Bruh. This looks like myelin sheaths on nerve axons. Myelin is an insulator just like [—–] is described to be! Except the metaphor ends there because myelin is supposed to be there and protects the axon/accelerates signal speed. Assok is basically chewing nodes of ranvier into existence instead of the breaks between myelin forming naturally. And that’s my degree put to use for the week

Also HEY. I had the thought earlier that the sick tree might be a Yggdrasil thing but didn’t put said thought down cause there wasn’t a whole lot behind it save for “big tree, big big tree”. But NOW it turns out there was a small SERPENTINE creature CHEWING AT ITS ROOTS

ASSOK’S THE NIDHOGGR

Everyone: RGB smart?? as if. RGB: EXCUSE-

absolutely huge mood there buddy

HEY MODMAD. TURN ON YOUR LOCATION WE GOTTA TALK ABOUT PAGE 162 FORESHADOWING HOW RGB BELIEVES THE SUCCESSFUL HERO’S JOURNEY HAS TO END

Hero is the flower that will die even though she’s saved the World >:(

“all flowers must die to complete their purpose” is also a funny phrase to be throwing around when Negative’s presence sprouts blue roses which shatter apart when he leaves

“Flowers need roots to live”, further implicating Negative as the (ha ha) root cause of the blue roses and vines. and we again see here, the flowers die but the branches they bloomed from remain

ALSO consider the flowers seen around characters heads when they dream/are asleep- those flowers also must go away when people wake up

Taking this a step further, Negative can be further associated with RGB’s subconscious/being unconscious by his flower-spawning

Lesbians Fight TV-Dad for Custody of Daughter

It’s “make fun of RGB hour” on TPoH and im living. Sharp, sour, cheesy poop indeed

Gotta remember to contrast this against when Hero actually drinks his colors later

gotta remember that this is 4 PEOPLE THAT RGB HAS FUCKED OVER BANDING TOGETHER TO GIVE HIM SHIT. LIKE, HE’S KIDNAPPED THEM ALL, HE CAN’T COMPLAIN

Under the sea, under the seeea~

Uh oh. UH OH THAT’S A SCISSOR BLADE

UH OH

Melody shouted in sforzando but it’s already too late ;_;

Oh! And the notation on top- that tells you to use a mute. God dammit

I knew this was coming and yet I am devastated anyway. goodbye my sweet wives your time was too short. Please come back one day

It’s also notable that Hate cut them out right at the border before the third and final protection on the Market begins. We know later that the darkness blots them entirely out of Hate’s view, so if they’d made it just a bit further She wouldn’t have been able to capture them like she just has

D’you think RGB knows exactly what’s happened to them?

If bodies of water are another form of Good Protection, then Fears hanging around the Pool of Tears is doubly weird

Yikes tho good thing Hero hopped off, can you imagine if Hero had gotten snipped away alongside her moms?? Terrible

Jeebs are you telling me that Hero would have eventually started to fade if she’d carried that pile of [—–] long enough?! RGB! BAD DAD! GET ‘IM HERO

Then again, this means he was probably planning to carry it himself most of the way. He has certain advantages after all- he overgenerates color for himself. It’s probably why he lasts as long in the storm of Nothing as he does…

Oh no OH NOOOOO ASSOK HEARD MELODY’S SHOUT

Is that-? Could it be-? By jove, it is. RGB IS INITIATING AFFECTION AND COMFORT EVERYONE! YEEEEEEAH, MAKE UP FOR THAT BAD-DAD BEHAVIOR!

HEY NOW WAIT THE FUCK A MINUTE THERE- BUTTERFLY SHADOW

HEY. Her schism’s opening back up! Nothing on page 166, but once Julienne and Melody are gone in page 167 we see it starting to open back up

!! RGB OFFERS HER HIS HAND? HIS PHYSICAL, ACTUAL HAND?? HELLO????

And the third return of “just this once” is killing me dude

Poor Assok get scronch

Girl what makes you think TOBY and JULIENNE trust RGB?! Additionally, why are you including Dial on the list?! Is he just That Charming?

IN FACT,  every single person Hero just listed? RGB has personally ruined their life! he’s killed ALL of them! HERO I UNDERSTAND YOU’RE 6 BUT

Hero trusts Dial oh no. this can only result in bad things

Butterfly, flying off in defeat: goddamn fucking idealistic children making it hard for me to steal them away and end their story, come on! Dump the chump and let me end you!!!!

Back on that schism though- it opened up once they started fighting at the sun tree, and just now when the wives disappeared. I would say it’s ripped open by experiencing fear, but it definitely was not open when Hero saw Neggy Boi wrecking shop

Join me in the next chapter when our intrepid duo speedrun Pajama Sam: No Need to Hide When It’s Dark Outside! 

[tumblunni]

Ah, here’s the pillowsnake! It’s called Rashab, I totally forgot!

beware, like 40 paragraphs of long rambling about the game below:

I never realized how the naming schemes actually work. All the different variants of a particular genus share a name ending- Nushab is the weird 8 shaped long neck snake, Rashab is the super rectangular chubby one, and Mukshab is the sticklike one that just looks like a real snake but with the trademark weird head that this monster has. And then the sub-breeds of each sub-breed have a totally different naming scheme! Only the main Rashab is Rashab, the other three elementals are all something-moaj instead. And Nushabs are something-oots, and Mukshabs are something-mines. Its an interesting way to do it, though it’s pretty hard to actually figure any of it out ingame when all the pure sub-breed forms only appear as enemies and you’re gonna be fusing your own variations for your party. I think pretty much anything fuses well with the snakes, they look awesome with any texture! And when they fuse with bugs they can actually gain lil wings and look like Dunsparce!

OH OH OH and ALSO I love how monsters in this game actually grow up! Like, they dont evolve, they just grow up like actual animals! They have very very subtle model changes in size for the first 20 or 30 levels, to symbolise reaching maturity. Its hard to even notice it happening unless you compare save files! And often you’ll be fusing monsters rather than keeping them in your party for a long time anyway. So I’m glad that the Shabs have some of the more noticeable changes! Their baby selves start off looking a lot more similar, and they only gain their giant variation in body shapes when they’ve matured. (Though you can still tell what one its gonna become)

OH AND ALSO ALSO The shabs look even cuter in the concept art, yo!!! Ingame it maybe loses a bit of the appeal cos of the low resolution and how everything is textures rather than model detail. (A necessity considering how the fusion system works, yknow?) On the concept art their faces look less like an eyeless snake with dot patterns, and more like a snake with eight buglike eyes. ITS REALLY CUTE!! Thats why I said they look like leeches! Cos they have the super light coloured undersides and the three-pronged jaw and the bug eyes! They’re scaly big leeches! they’re leechly small snakes! THEYRE THE BEST OF MY TWO FAVOURITE LONG ANIMALS!!!!

OH AND its good worldbuilding but I’M SAD The shabs The shabs get the honor of being in the worldbuilding in A SAD WAY The basic MP restoration item is called a Shab Liquer :( Yeah, its nice to know that they thought about how these magical monsters might be a part of everyday life even outside of a battle setting. But its sad to think about how they’re killed and used in medicine! And you have to use hundreds of this medicine, there’s no way to survive without MP restores! I DONT WANNA MAKE MY SNAKE FRIEND A CANNIBAL Tho I do appreciate how the name Shab Liquer just implies a lot of worldbuilding on its own. Like, you don’t just know that they make a medicine from the snakes, its implied its quite literally a snake oil. Like, does that mean snake oil is an idiom for a totally reliable and true thing in this universe? And Liquer is just a rather archaic and fancy way to phrase it, it fits very well with the setting! But seriously WHY DO I HAVE TO FEED MY SNAKE BABY DEAD SNAKE BABIES TO KEEP THEM ALIVE

OH OH OH AND that reminds me of another Fucked Up aspect of the worldbuilding! Your most reliable way of gaining money in this game is selling the monsters you catch. Which is dumb and impractical anyway cos I mean YOU WANNA FUSE THEM ALL!! And you get more money from selling your ones that you actually already fused and levelled up, like NO WAY am I doing that! I love them!! Even if I’m not using them, I’m just gonna keep them at home with Mahbu! NO MAKE ME SELL MY SNEKS But the REALLY FUCKED UP PART is that its explicitely said that by selling them you are killing the monsters.

...Okay so.. this kinda needs some explanation of more of the worldbuilding first...

The way you catch monsters in this game is by using magical cocoons, hence the name of the story. Monsters are meant to be like spiritual creatures, they’re called Minions cos they’re literally the minions of this setting’s deity, Elrihm. The religion of this culture states that humanity (or ‘The Beasts Of Knowledge’) committed a great sin in the past. We were god’s attempt to grant free will and intelligence to animals, but we used it to do evil and he decided the whole species was beyond saving because of the actions of a few. So he created these monsters/demons/avenging angels in snake form, and their mission in life is to destroy all of humanity so that the world can be reset. Which is why minions attack humans on sight, yet coexist perfectly peacefully with animals and plants in the forest. So like... humanity obviously Did Not Want to all die for the sins of one or two dumb kings, yknow? We stubbornly persist! We hold out our vanguard and keep our little towns amidst the Doom Forests, living life as normal with just the Doom Forests being a thing in the background, yeah. Defending against occasional attacks of minions banding together into swarms and chewing on the walls a little, but yeah, no biggie. And sometimes one of them manages to get in and eat some of our garbage or something. People live normally in these fortified wall villages, and the religion still worships Elrihm, and revolves around begging his forgiveness and trying to prove that humanity deserves to live. And never advancing too far with industrialism. lest we be punished again! And I mean, maybe that actually IS how everything happened, or maybe its just a story and Minions have always existed as a natural part of the ecosystem and they’re not evil things destined to destroy us or whatever. Its ambiguous! Even when you get to see Elrihm’s avatar at the end of the game, it’s just a big magical tree that the monsters come from, you never get any idea if it’s sentient and you’re not able to ask it if our legends have the right idea about it’s role as god. (Or if its gender is actually male, or if it even has one XD)

Anyway, that’s the legend of where the monsters come from, and it kinda explains why people might be a bit callous towards them, if they can be tamed as cute friends but also the wild ones are such a big threat to civilization. And if mythology says their threat to civilization is the natural order of existance, that they exist to kill us under orders of a god who abandoned us centuries ago... But yeah! Anyway! There’s a bloodline of magical people called the Nagi who have the power to purify the anger out of minions and make them friends. And the game has a cool way of keeping the usual mons show aspect of ‘catch a monster inside a certain item that has a limited amount of uses’, while making it fit with this ancient times mythological setting! Instead of the pokeball equivelant being some sort of manmade machine, it’s... cocoons! Since Minions are spiritual creatures, they can be like.. de-manifested and have their souls stored, to be re-summoned later. And for whatever reason, the way the magic works is that their souls have to be contained in cocoons. It’s... actually never fully explained? Where do the cocoons come from? Is it like you take any cocoon from a regular bug, and you seal the monster soul inside? But how would you even get an EMPTY cocoon? Is there a special bug in this universe that makes cocoons not for metamorphosis? or do you like.. fuse the soul with the bug inside the cocoon, and thats why all the monsters in this game are inspired by bugs? But they have the same bug-inspired designs even when you find them in the wild before catching them. So is it like the Nagi magic can create magical cocoons and you use those? or is it like you dont actually carry the empty cocoons, you carry something or other that turns into cocoons when a monster is sealed inside it? the catching animation is very vague, the protagonist is only holding his magic flute and a nebulous white glow in his hand. Then the cocoon forms around the monster and its sucked into his hand... ANYWAY I’M GOING OFFTOPIC SORRY! The point is that Nagi people can purify minions into friends, fuse minions into new powerful forms and (probably?) create the magic cocoons that can catch them in the first place. But it doesn’t mean that Nagi people are actually equipped to fight and catch the monsters themselves! the usual setup is a married couple where the Nagi can stay at home and focus entirely on their magic, and the regular human partner learns warrior arts and catches the monsters for them. Also catching monsters requires magic music, so you need to be a damn good bard too! I liked that they even showed that different Cocoon Masters (official name for peeps like the protag) can use whatever instruments fit best with their soul. The protagonist has an ocarina and [important endgame character] has a fancy lute guitar thing? I wish the game had told me what those are called... I think a name for an ancient japanese string instrument is a shamisen but i have NO IDEA if the one shown ingame is actually that or there are more different ones..? I mean its only shown in cutscnes so there’s no good ref image for it- I’M GOING OFFTOPIC AGAIN Anywaaaaaayyyy, its also in the worldbuilding that (for some reason) Nagi men are unable to use magic, and thats why the mages are always the wives and the warriors are always the husbands. Its interesting how this mythology is kinda presented as an opposite of adam and eve, too! Men who try and use magic are sinful and will be punished for stepping out of their assigned roles by becoming demons. Its the sad story of the protagonist’s parents, alas! His mother was the previous Nagi priestess of the village, but her husband committed the ultimate sin and then all we know is that his corrupted self fled into the forest and was never seen again. And everyone marks you as a failure for what your father did, so becoming the new cocoon master is quite hard at first. And its SUPER DUPER SAD cos your dad did it because performing minion purification is painful for the Nagi, and he couldn’t bear to see his wife hurting herself for his sake. So even though he knew the risks, one day he just tried to purify his minions himself so she could get some rest. And.. like.. ultitmately it did work. Cos she could never bear to remarry, and thus the village didnt have another cocoon master until their son grew old enough to marry. At least he succeeded in letting his wife never have to do magic again, even if it was because she stopped doing it out of grief for him.. :(

ANYWAY Now i’ve explained that worldbuilding and why it is cool and awesome and sad, I can explain the worldbuilding of a random gameplay element and why it is also cool and sad! So yeah, like I said before LONG TANGEANTS... The only really reliable way to make money in the game is to sell your monsters. And it makes me feel SO BAD! Cos the game very much outright tells you that selling them is killing them. And I guess it makes sense cos I mean, only Nagi wife-husband pairs can actually summon the monsters, there’d be no point trying to sell living ones to anyone else. So, since minions are sealed inside cocoons, in order to sell them you spin their cocoons into silk thread. This village’s primary export is weaving, so you can sell these silk spools to the big ol building of spinning wheel people and make money to keep going on your journey. Apparantly silk infused with monster souls is higher quality and can grant various effects and stuff, hence its value. Its a shame they didnt make a crafting system with this! Instead its just a standard ‘more powerful weapons and armours appear at the shop as the plot advances, for no real reason’. I mean, wouldnt it have been cool if you could add your monsters’s particular resistances to your main character’s armour? i would feel less sad about betraying them so utterly if they could protect me from beyond the grave. BECAUSE SERIOUSLY THIS IS SO FUCKED UP Seriously! These monsters faithfully served you! You purified them of their anger against humans, and instead of taking that opportunity to love them and show them the good sides of humanity, you just kill them! You kill them after they gained free will! You specifically HAVE to give them free will in order to kill them! Poor babies... I mean seriously I know that animals have to die to provide humans with food and materials and stuff, this is just how society works. But there’s something so much more viscerally terrifying about imagining taking an animal and literally weaving its SOUL into thread, then wearing it! There’s so many metaphysical questions that need to be answered before you can even figure out how much pain they would experience! And like.. god.. even the way they do the gameplay is so.. even more sad. Like, you can’t just hand the monster to someone else and its implied that they kill them. You have to hit an actual button to turn it into a sellable item. You have to cull it yourself. The death blow is on your hands, even if someone else weaves its dead soul into a nice scarf... So yeah, I pretty much always deliberately play ‘hard mode’ on this game, and refuse to make any damn money. Well, I mean, you can still find items in forests and sell them, but its infinately harder that way. You really are supposed to be selling your monsters to progress. I SAY NO! Big ol giant interface option sitting there on the menu unused forever. I love my sneks. You will not take them!!!

Oh but MAN I do really like the moral ambiguity of this worldbuilding, aaaaa!! The whole setting is so.. like.. realistic. There’s the dark realities of life in an ancient times setting. They take care to establish how the society functions and what their main trading export is, and what role monsters play in a non-battley setting! And seriously even the lil Shab Liquer thing! The casual implication that other villages might have different industries with their captured monsters, and someone somewhere out there found a way to make this medicine out of snakes. it manages to imply a wider world even as you’re confined to this one single village and the long forest that divides it away from every other human settlement. Plus.. like.. I really like the ambiguity it gives to HUMANITY. That seems like the MOST realistic of anything! Seriously, the game starts off establishing that in mythology humans are said to be evil, that the creation myth says we’re living in a post-fall society as the corrupted form of what true humanity should actually be, that god has abandoned us and we follow religion because we have to prove ourselves good enough to regain our former status. Like.. seriously, its refreshing compared to how boring and samey a lot of fictional religions are! They’re often just copies of existing religions, or of the general most popular religion template of There Was One Or Two Creator Gods And They Made Humans And Humans Are Destined Important And Animals Were Made To Serve Us. Instead in this game humanity’s mistreatment of animals and the environment is our absolute sin, and the definition of holiness is to be more similar to animals. And big scary demon monsters are GOD’S HOLY CREATIONS, SENT TO PUNISH US! No stereotypes here! No corner-cutting bullshit stolen from real life religions! And then like.. its nice how ambiguous it makes humanity nowadays, even beyond the ambiguity of the mythology and history. Humanity is trying to redeem itself, humanity is following this religion worshipping the god that cast them down for being corrupted. But still, it shows that some people believe in this doctrine, and some people believe that the things that are ‘corrupt’ about us are actually good. Cos it shows how some people believe that like.. ALL progress is sinful, any sort of machine is sinful, any attempt to improve society or change on what’s traditional. And it shows how some people who believe this are the bad guys, and some people believe this in a way that actually makes sense. And similarly, some people who follow the traditional ways are good- like Mahbu and her grandma. But then there’s the village chief who just follows religion blindly and doesnt seem to actually understand what’s morally correct at all, he’s just like ‘if I do what I’m told, I’ll be freed!’ instead of getting the goddamn lesson. And he tries to pretend to be a reasonable authority figure at first but then he gets more and more corrupt as the game goes on. He’s the representation of how forcing our two heroes into an arranged marriage is a morally ambiguous thing, even though they actually were in love and would have got hitched anyway. They’re still way too young to get this destiny of being the only ones who can save the village, AND keep the economy alive by spinning poor lil monsters into silk! And then he keeps giving you more and more orders, and they go from the actual duties of a cocoon master into just fullfilling the chief’s own greed and paranoia. And its interesting that him and the vizier lady who represents ‘lets abandon the rules and do everything for the benefit of humanity’ actually end up teaming up in the end and becoming even more goddamn corrupt together. Excessive progress and excessive stagnancy are both evil, and honestly they both have very similar selfish motives! Tho I do think the only problem is that they put a bit too much emphasis on this whole ‘these two looked like reasonable authority figures but were really evil’ thing, and don’t have enough good people in the town representing the other side. So its harder to care about saving this place when its literally just your wife and your mom who represent the goodness of the human race. And like.. technically I dont want the asshole lil kid to die, cos even though he’s a jerk he’s too young to be 100% responsible for his own actions. Even if I dont like him as a person, I’d still rather wanna take him away from this trash town and hope he can get raised by better people...

But seriously goddamn THOSE FUCKIN ASSHOLE CHIEFTAIN AND VIZIER PEOPLE!! Even after me and mahbu just saved the city from a deadly disease, after like 12 hours of gameplay and three forests worth of fighting for my life against monsters, where I’m expected to have sacrificed like 30 monsters to feed their stupid fuckin silk industry, even after ALL THAT they show no gratitude! The opposite of gratitude! The chief is still paranoid of the Nagi people for being foreigners, even though they dedicate their whole damn life to leaving their families and going on journeys to settle down in different cities and give their power to protect un-magic humans. And they’ve been doing this for all of history despite persecution, and like.. they lost their home and now the only ones who exist are the nomads and various half-nagi children who’ve never seen anyone of their own race before and are losing all the culture. Mahbu is an orphan who was just found by her ‘grandma’ and raised here, the only other Nagi in the village are the protagonist’s mum and technically the protagonist is half Nagi. (Tho like I said, the worldbuilding is that men cant use the magic, so protagonist is classified as a regular human and would just pass it on if he had a daughter.) So seriously Mahbu is a GODDAMN ORPHAN who was raised here all alone and hated by the village even as a kid! And the protagonist was her only childhood friend cos he could understand the feeling of being hated for having this blood, so no wonder they ended up falling in love. And then their love is at risk cos they were forced into this political marriage when they’re really young, and now have to risk dying everyday to protect this town that still hates them. And they work so hard to prove they don’t deserve to be hated, they don’t even think ‘the town is assholes’, they think ‘this is my home and i love it and it must be my fault everyone hates me so i have to work harder’. And the game doesn’t give you any option to do otherwise!

And it progresses even worse than just not getting gratitude! After you save the village from the disease, the evil chief and vizier wreck the day that you just saved, by pulling their goddamn bullshit evil plan! The chief decides to cut down the god-tree because of his paranoia, the vizier decides to cut down the god-tree because of her greed. And like... GAHHHH but its SO GOOD cos its all moral ambiguity still! The evil duo are definately evil, but they get to be evil for different reasons. They represent the two darkest sides of humanity, and no matter how much you represent the light of the world you cannot change them just by passively obeying them and hoping they’ll react like goddamn rational people! But you can understand why the masses might be tricked into following them, yknow? Humanity has been living in this tough life for as long as human memory, and mythology says that we’re being punished for the sins of our ancestors and we’re just BORN EVIL even though we weren’t the ones who did that shit. So you have good reasons to be angry against god, even if the evil duo DONT have good reasons, and they’re not doing something that will actually help.

Anyway so yeah thusly they trick mahbu and the protagonist into helping them trap the god-tree so they can cut it down. Again its a lil annoying that the game doesn’t give you a choice, though! And they dont even bother writing it a bit more ambiguous so the player could be fooled too, its pretty damn obvious you’re being tricked yet the only way to progress the game is to keep going. So you accidentally end up casting the evil magic on the god-tree and its like HOLY SHIT NO! And as you run back to the town you cant get back in time to stop anything, and you just get to see cutscenes of what’s happening while you’re gone. The evil duo cross the line EVEN FURTHER by MURDERING MAHBU’S GRANDMA! Mahbu’s grandma is the BEST CHARACTER, you fucking fuckface! She was such a nice helpful mentor and one of the only people who genuinely treated you two like human beings even though she wasn’t related to you. And she tries to stop the evil duo from doing their evil plan, she tries to reason with them, and she even gets desperate enough to try and reason with them within their own logic. Even if they’re sacriligious and selfish enough to not care that they’re trying to kill god for personal gain, they should at least understand that their plan WON’T FUCKIN WORK, and they’re just gonna bring god’s wrath and ruin humanity’s only chance at redemption! You’re gonna lose all your goddamn money and power if you get bitchslapped by the heavens, dumbass! AND you;ll kill the rest of us too, who never did anything to deserve it! And they ignore all her attempts to be reasonable, and ritually sacrifice her to try and save their own asses once their stupid attempt to kill god backfires. FUCK YOU TWO, SERIOUSLY!

And then something I really like is the revelation of grandma’s backstory! Cos seriously, who exactly was this mysterious woman who found this orphan and rescued her from the forest? She wasn’t a citizen of this town, she just stayed here to raise Mahbu once the town residents acted like assholes and tried to kick the poor kid back out. It turns out that grandma is actually the mortal incarnation of one of the minor deities! She’s basically this world’s psychopomp. The evil duo were actually RIGHT when they said she was a demon in disguise, but NOT when they thought that she was the evil one and they were good. The psychopomp figure of this mythology is hated, but it seems to be that she gained that reputation because she disobeys Elrihm and tries to help humans. She saved this Nagi girl from dying like the rest of her people, and even bound herself in human form in order to try and redeem this town of jackasses. And even though she was part of their village for so long and did nothing but try and protect them, they still ultimately betrayed her... And it was a very vague plot element that was only casually mentioned here cos its Endgame Time and we have to move very fast now. But it was implied that the chief and vizier are the reincarnations of the original evil king and evil sorcerer who did the same sinful nonsense all those centuries ago to get humanity kicked out of god’s domain in the first place. I dunno if its just meant to be that they’re naturally stuck in a cycle of reincarnation as punishment for their sins? But I always liked to interpret it that psychopomp grandma chose to never take their souls, because no matter what they do to her she still believes that one day they might be able to be redeemed in their next life. I feel like maybe she’s gambling with god, she’s keeping humanity alive by holding this one last wager to prove that they’re worth saving...

And then spoily endgame stuff happens and ultimately the protagonist fullfills some ancient prophecy and calms god and etc and MAKES UP FOR THE BULLSHIT ADULTS RUINING ALL THE SHIT, SERIOUSLY And seriously i haaaate how abrupt and rushed the ending is, and how that in this abrupt rushed ending they had time to show that the trash town comes back to life but not show that Mahbu does! You’re told beforehand that she will, but like.. with how many times you get lied to in this game, it would have been nice to get some damn confirmation in the end. Plus seriously, I cant even be happy seeing the town come back! Thats not a very climactic ending! Seeing protagonist smooch his poor long-suffering girlfriend would be way better! Seriously SERIOUSLY everyone else fuckin died cos of their own fuckin fault cos they MURDERED A GRANDMA my nice sweet ETERNAL GRANDMA, the ANCIENT DEITY OF ALL GRANDMAS, the fuckin DEATH GOD SATAN FIGURE WHO SACRIFICED HERSELF TO BECOME A GRANDMA AND PROTECT US AND THEN THEY KILLED HER, AAAAA they fuckin deserved to all die and be frozen in stone unable to even find peace But Mahbu’s life was instead in danger because she used too much magic purifying monsters IN ORDER TO SAVE THE DAMN TRASH TOWN And after all that they had the goddamn gall to be ungrateful and just cause a second disaster and ask us to fix it again! THAT is why mahbu was gonna die! Because she was a good person who listened to your bullshit and tried to save you, and loved me, and just SERIOUSLY SO MANY EMOTIONS you repayed her by KILLING HER GRANDMA

And i mean seriously her form of death was quite literally death from being TOO HOLY AND MORAL. She wasn’t strictly ‘dying’, it was more like a death of personality, I guess? Becoming something holy and leaving this world, when she didnt want to leave you. Everyone called the painful Nagi markings ‘cursed’ and shamed her for it and made her cover them up so their poor goddamn eyes wouldnt be offended by having to look at them. And poor mahbu was worried her goddamn love of her life would be disgusted with her if he saw! So it was like.. simultaneously cathartic and sad to learn that tradition was wrong in this respect. That it was still a BAD THING, but it was holy markings instead of a curse. Nagi priests who succum to the ‘curse’ are just shedding their humanity as a reward for their service, because from Elrihm’s perspective this is a good thing. So Mahbu becomes a tiny fairy angel type Minion, and then its just sad and intense because soon she’ll lose the ability to speak and forget about you and grandma :( So you have to seal her inside a cocoon in order to halt the spread of the holy markings, and can only let her out to talk to her for very short amounts of time in case it starts up again. And then you have to face the gauntlet of the penultimate dungeon alone without the ability to fuse monsters, until you get through it and find the original Nagi hometown whose demise was greatly exaggerated. And then nobody there has any time for character development cos its endgame time, but seriously it was thematically really damn cathartic to walk through that door and see the place! And meet this actual good guy chieftain who actually finally answers some goddamn questions and helps you! Even if its super sad to have to do fusion with these new stranger shopkeeper twins, instead of the wife you’ve grown to love. And also SERIOUSLY just imagine how fuckin atmospheric that whole penultimate dungeon would have been if the player character got to have a voice! It was all atmospheric to me cos I got really into it and imagined it, but I wish it coulda been canon, yknow? I’m just imagining the poor protagonist dude fighting through this horrifying gauntlet all alone with his final team of monsters, struggling to keep up without any of the magical reinforcement they usually get, unable to restock the last few items he has left in his bag. Fuckin DESPERATE HORROR, fuckin having to sleep overnight in the forest for the first time, fuckin terrified. Fuckin.. clinging to the soul of his wife sealed in a cocoon, keeping it safe against all costs, fuckin wakes up in the middle of the night and just how terrified he’d be that he can’t find her, until he remembers what happens T_T And then like.. imagine him summoning her and only getting a few minutes to hold her tiny fragile fairy self in the palm of his hands, and strain to hear her quiet voice as it gets fainter and fainter, and she struggles to remember herself. Thats somehow EVEN SADDER than if you could actually use monster-Mahbu in your party to fight alongside you! (tho that would have been AWESOME) I felt so bad that after all the horror these two had to go through, we never get to see the happy ending they earned, and instead the game wastes time showing the trash town coming back and just... GAHHH

oh and also that is THE ONLY THING about the sequel that i agree is bad! I liked the sequel a lot! And.. I mean.. in theory its a very interesting concept to have the protagonist of the last game be this sadman morally ambiguous broken mentor man. But seriously fuckin hell give the man a break! They literally say that he got blessed/cursed with immortality cos he fullfilled the prophecy in the first game, so Mahbu died long ago and he desperately wants to die too. Thats such a fuckin sick thing to do to your protagonist! And I mean, he doesnt even look like the same person anymore, and so much about the gameplay and the setting and etc are wildly different so it doesnt seem like the same world in th future, why even bother trying to claim its the same world in the future... I mean even.. monsters come from eggs instead of cocoons now, and you cant catch them or merge them, only buy them in stores! Shoulda just made it a separate game and let it stand on its own merits, it would have actually succeeded. I love all the characters in JC2, there’s no problem of ‘man i dont wanna save these guys’, the only character I dont like is fuckin... SADMAN FORMER PROTAGONIST WHO WANTS TO DIE At least in the ending after spoily stuff he gets to pass away. But lets just say the spoily stuff spits on the poor man’s legacy even more, sheesh...

ANYWAY I FEEL A LOT OF EMOTIONS FOR PROTAGONIST AND MAHBU And this game has great worldbuilding and i love it even if the ending is rushed and you’re forced to fall for stupid villain assholes’s stupid tricks ok end of bunni’s rambling