#or be anonymous about them on tumblr hah | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

a-table-of-fics · 3 years

Text

Oddworld, Conar's Ambition, Chapter 2, Draft 1

[[Thanks to Tumblr updating the post length limit, I can finally put the full draft of Chapter 2 in one big post!]]

Slim was silent in line to Slugbite Motel. The chatter was hopefully decent cover; he didn’t need yet more attention after his outburst. If he kept his head down, he’d be fine, and wouldn’t get any more surplus bruises on top of the regular workday bruises.

He heard chatter all around him, gossip from other Slog Huts, Splinterz, and Flub Fuels.

“Management must be pissed, what with -”

“I can’t believe what Skrag did to me! What got into-”

“- hear about FeeCo?”

“We’re gonna be settin’ some electric fences up tomorrow, anyone know about -”

“ – say Abe’s got to Necrum –“

“ -Sligs must be worried if Abe’s getting’ to their place –“

Any talk of Abe was, of course, in whispers. No one believed him to be a terrorist, really, but everyone knew better than to celebrate. Well, everyone but him, apparently, but still. Slig forces were already pretty antsy right now, and there were cameras everywhere. Besides, it was a long day full of more abuse than normal. Everyone was just ready for bed, so to speak. Sure, it was less a bed and more a closet with a dirt floor and next to no elbow room, but it was a place to sleep, nonetheless.

It was almost his turn in the queue. Slim dug in his pouch for his meal ticket. With any luck, he’d get half a Scrabcake with the somewhat edible slop they served here. He presented the ticket to the Slig clerk Jeandis. Jeandis took one look, rolled his eyes from under his visor, and then slammed the counter to his left, deepening the indentation next to the bell. A Mudokon, wearing a light brown cap with deep red stripes and a similarly-colored loincloth, emerged from the back door, carrying a tray of gruel with him.

The tray had no trace of Scrabcakes, sadly, but it did come with a small can of that drink everyone was talking about – Soulstorm Brew. The green can with that nondescript Glukkon’s face on it was an interesting look, at least, and the somewhat sickly Mudokon in those commercials did look exceedingly happy when Director Phleg gave him a crate of the stuff, as if it was sorely-needed medicine. Slim even saw the server longingly stare at the can he had to give him.

“On the house… buddy,” Jeandis said, his line carefully rehearsed. “You saw the commercials; it’s a freebie!”

“Um, okay, thanks.”

Slim took his dinner tray and a plastic spoon over to find a seat that was open; this was no small feat in a Slugbite Motel. Many Mudokons had long since given up on the prospect, instead sitting on the floor against any given wall. He noticed how everyone was given similar cans of Brew, and a lot of the chatter he came across was already shifting from the recent Abe scare to the Oddsend the new drink was.

He walked through the throngs of fellow Scrubs, the smell of Brew filling the air. It was very strange; a tangy aroma that was also somehow familiar. The chatter grew louder and more animated as time went on, and even Slim was feeling a little less tired from the fumes and infectious cheer.

Still, it was a long day, so he still prepared to just sit down and eat. He found a place next to Ben, and dug in. Well, as much as you could dig in with whatever this was. Some said those were fruit chunks mixed in with the goop, some said they were Elum Chubs, but one thing for certain was they were undercooked. It was well known that this was the least of dinner’s concerns, sadly.

Slim took a few shaky scoops, doing his best to forget the words “gag reflex”. He was able to swallow the muck as usual, but he found himself coughing; it felt like he was eating sawdust under the slimy texture!

“Yeah,” Ben said, sympathetically, “Jeandis’ Special really sucks today, doesn’t it?”

“WHO SAID THAT?!” demanded Jeandis, so loud that everyone on the other side of the cafeteria could clearly hear the greenish-yellow Slig. The din died down as a furious head chef stomped over to the wall where the sound came from. There were at least ten cowering Scrubs under his wrathful glare, and they were all pointing grey or green fingers at each other.

“This is more than you deserve, ya miserable Chippunks! You oughta know I could—Eh?”

He was interrupted by frantic whispers from the server Mudokon, who was quick to rush up to his boss. He lowered his fist, slowly, and his face-tentacles sagged.

“…You oughta know…er…I could getcha another can of Brew to…wash it down…?”

Nine out of ten Mudokons were nodding enthusiastically, and the Scrubs at the surrounding tables cheered.

“Shut up and get in line again if you want another round!”

Almost all the Mudokons immediately shot up and sprinted into line. Some of them trembled excitedly while they waited.

Slim had never seen the cafeteria so alive or enthusiastic before. This Soulstorm Brew stuff must have one hell of a kick. If he drank it now, he’d probably be up all night. Best to save this stuff for when he needed it – no need to come to work tired tomorrow.

Besides, if all else failed, he had a bartering tool now.

With this in mind, he tucked the can he had into his pouch. It wouldn’t be the first time he had to sleep with a dry throat; he knew better than to ask Jeandis for anything else to drink.

His body still ached, and it had been a long day on top of that, so while Jeandis was occupied with his sudden fame, Slim quietly ate up the rest of his “meal” and left. With the “first come, first served” policy of getting a room for the night, he was able to get one right by the cafeteria for once. He might even be able to get breakfast tomorrow!

He dug in his pouch for his ID, and a quick scan gave him the room for the night. As the door closed behind him, it took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the windowless closet. When he did, he could see all kinds of scratchings on the wall. Short complaints about bosses and a variety of tally marks filled most of it, but there were some other things. There was the occasional crude drawing of a bird, which gave Slim nostalgia over something he never experienced. There were conversations between anonymous Mudokons, about the latest gossip, concerns, and anything else. It was comforting; they watched out for each other and kept each other informed even when they didn’t really know each other.

With his nightly reading done, Slim slumped down to the ground. The dirt here was cool, but nothing he wasn’t used to. With any luck, he wouldn’t wake up to Bolamites crawling over him, but that was a problem for future him. Present him just had to be absorbed by the soft earth, and dream of a better workday, one where Abe saved him from this miserable job and blew up the Slog Hut.

It was all he could do, really.

* * *

It wasn’t even five minutes before he felt a cold breeze, and the light of the hallway made him squeeze his eyes shut more before sitting up. A hand went up to shield his vision, but he was still blinded for a moment while he tried to make out the silhouette. A Slig, for sure, but that hardly narrowed it down. The Pants were pretty basic, being two robotic legs attached to a large ball. However, the giveaway was the mask that obscured this particular guard’s face. It was one of the older visors, like some Sligs still wore, with a single long visor. However, this one covered his scalp, forming an ugly black helmet rather than just a scary red visor. Only Conar had that version, but what was he doing here of all places?

Well, it couldn’t be anything good. Slim shuddered, wondering what he’d have to apologize for to get a manager from work to find him in this motel. But… no beating or gunfire came his way. In fact, Conar looked taken aback. He wasn’t aiming his Blunderbuss anywhere in particular, and his head kept turning either way, as if he wasn’t supposed to be here.

“Well, whaddaya know, Slim,” he said, after a moment. “Funny I’d run into you here…”

Slim blinked, lowering his hands, but remaining where he was.

“So, uh... you wanna get outta shoveling Slog crap?”

Slim opened his mouth to answer, but Conar grabbed his arm, so the Scrub’s confused questions were interrupted by his own yelp.

“Time’s up!” Conar said, hearing the chatter die down in the cafeteria. “We’re leavin’!”

“Oh-okay…”

“And you’re gonna shut yer yap! We ain’t supposed to be doing this, you know!”

With that, the two of them silently beat feet away from the hubbub of the mess hall, kicking up a lot of dirt on their way.

The hall separated into two different ways at the end. Conar knew that to the left was the back door he came from, and was going to drag Slim with him. But Slim had other ideas, nearly pulling Conar out of his Pants as he pulled them both to the right.

Conar adjusted his seat so he could run properly again, then struggled to get out of Slim’s grip.

“What the hell?!” he protested, before realization struck, and he quieted down. “The back way’s the otherhall!”

“Where do you think most’f the Sligs are?” Slim harshly whispered. “Seen at least four Mudokons try that, and they never make it to the parking lot!”

“Oh, and the front door’sgonna be much better? Hah!”

“Dunno,” Slim shrugged. “No one’s tried it.”

Conar was about to say something pretty snippy, but he saw they were close to the lobby. The pair stopped just short, and Conar looked ahead. There wasn’t much to see, past the dozens of bored Mudokons waiting in line to be checked in by a very bored Glukkon receptionist, complete with a very bored Slig there to type the guests’ numbers in.

No one was looking their way, so Conar motioned for Slim to follow, and the two of them walked towards the other exit. They made it about halfway through before the Pud looked up.

“Where do ya think you’re goin?!”

“Ah…” Conar started, before regaining his composure. “Y’see, he was volunteered to work overtime tonight! Just came here to pick ‘im up!”

The Glukkon rose to his full height, which would have been impressive if he had shoulder pads or any non-plaid clothing. His assistant also rose, clicking a pen as violently as one could manage. Both Conar and Slim hunched a little, preparing to put their hands over their heads.

The receptionists walked over, sneering. The Mudokons in the queue muttered, some talking about the scene, others complaining about this new delay between them and dinner.

The Glukkon leaned close, so close Conar could almost read the miniscule nametag.

“We have procedures for this, you know! Guests –“ he said the word like most would say “slurg”, “—are to be signed out before leaving the premises!”

Slim blinked. It was hard to tell if Conar did the same.

“Yeah, er…” Conar said, rubbing his head. “Sorry, sir. I thought you wanted ‘im in line, too.”

“And risk the liability?” the receptionist exclaimed. “No, we have registration protocol for a reason!You security and your..your… unprofessionalism!”

His assistant merely gave Conar a look of resignation before marching back to check the Mudokons in.

“If we were to mix the lines like that, our quotas would go kaput! And this is a fine establishment!”

Conar chose not to bring up the dirt floor or the mold-eaten wallpaper. He was already debating whether or not this endeavor was worth it. Zoning out and wondering about that was far easier than listening to this chump.

“…My brothers and I… investors….”

Conar nodded along, thinking about the future, and the riches that would be in store for him. Maybe he could force Zeb to work for him. Of course, something like that would come after a little bit of begging for mercy. But what to spend the well-earned Moolah on? Maybe he’d get himself a nice, classy suit, with premium Slig Pants, armor, and a nice, big gun with all the works…

“…So, I’d really appreciate it if you’d show some class and go to the other desk!”

“Yes, sir!” Conar nodded, moving over to the empty desk. The Glukkon waddled over to the other side, and started controlling some machinery with his shoes.

“Name?”

“Slim.”

Tap, tap, tap.

“…Not found in our records.”

“Can’t you just add ‘im?”

“We just went over this! There are procedures! It will not be as simple as your mind! I can’t just add a Mudokon who is already in the--”

As Conar prepared to sigh, Slim stepped forward.

“Sorry sir,” he said, putting on his best Gluk-pleasing face (that is, a weak smile politely begging for mercy), “He must not’ve read my ID. Do you need my number?”

The receptionist laughed, looking down at Conar while nodding. He kept chuckling at the absurdity of this Slig’s ineptitude as he worked the pedals, searching for Slim by number. He finally stopped adding to Conar’s humiliation, catching his breath while reading what came onto his black-and-white monitor.

“Right, right, you’re all set to leave. Can’t be too careful this day and age, with all those escapees… Anyway, give him a few corporate-approved smacks to keep him in line, would you?”

Connar nodded, a little too hastily. After a moment to ensure no signature or receipt was needed, he turned and poked Slim with his blunderbuss.

“Alright, get movin’. We’re goin’ to work, now!”

Conar couldn’t believe it; he was expecting a tense escape, maybe an amazing shootout. But no; he was walking through the front door, with a Mudokon openly in tow. He even waved at a couple of the guards on his way out. He looked up at Slim, who kept himself hunched and shivering in a clearly practiced manner. The two of them marched in silence for a while, with Conar occasionally tapping the muzzle of his gun against Slim’s back for effect.

“You’re welcome,” Slim finally said, once they were closer to the Slog Huts again, and well out of earshot.

“What, you expectin’ thanks?” Conar asked, laughing at the audacity. “I was the one bustin’ ya out, y’know!”

Slim gave a smug grin, leaning against the wall as he did so.

“Oh, really? You go out the back with a Mudokon like you wanted, they’d be throwing your lead-filled ass into the recycler faster than you can say—”

He tried making that noise he heard many Sligs shout, but it sounded more like his lungs were playing tug-of-war.

“Yeah, well, you seemed pretty comfy in that filthy closet.”

“Ha, yeah, thanks,” Slim laughed, looking around for a moment. “So uh, why didja get me out of there anyway?”

“Right, yeah,” Conar said, clearing his throat. “So, you’re gonna help me take Zeb down a peg. If that Abe guy can take down RuptureFarms, I figure you can help me get his Moolah and ruin ‘im!”

Slim’s smile faded, and he looked at Conar like the Slig grew legs on the spot.

“You’re kidding, right?”

“Nah,” Conar shook his head. “This should be easy; we go in, hold ‘im at gunpoint, and—”

“And just how,” Slim asked, leaning forward until he was face to face with Conar, “do you expect us to ‘go in’? Do you even know where his office is?”

Conar’s smug grin faltered.

“Eh--? I…”

“To say nothin’ about the security he’s probably got! You got the news just like I did; they’re scared. They probably got security tighter than Jeandis’ skull there! Didja think any of this—”

He was cut off by a blunderbuss muzzle under his chin. So it was going to be certain death or immediate death, he saw.

“…G-got it. So, what’s the plan, boss?”

#oddworld #oddworld conar's ambition #oddworld fic #chapter 2 #draft 1 #oddworld conars ambition full chapter

2 notes · View notes

kumoriyami-xiuzhen · 4 years

Text

Hakuoki SSL - Hakuo Gakuen Student General Assembly Track 3

well... i hit 300 followers. not sure if it’s a milestone worth mentioning (if you’re one who followed because of the musicals and hasn’t gotten a message, read what it says at the top of my stuff i have page) or not since i can honestly say that i only started this tumblr for myself and everything i translate was really only done for my own sake... and I really have no idea if that number is good or bad for the amount of time I’ve been posting lol.

Still, i’m going to use the fact that this happened as an excuse to post this since i couldn’t figure out where to stick it in my queue since i didn’t want to wait til september to post this lol.

Anyway, this damn track is 18 min long... and i’ll get to the video next month along with the Hijikata web drama (have to push that back cause i got a bit busy with some things). Please note that the text left in bold is when Amagiri’s conversation with Kazama gets overlapped by Shiranui speaking.

As always, final edits will be done when I get to my subtitle video... need to double check that other video translation and the audio for a few things.

Enjoy~! and do not post elsewhere!

Hakuoki SSL - Hakuo Gakuen Student General Assembly Track 3

Translation by KumoriYami

Hijikata: okay... it's about to start.

Harada: Hijikata-san? you okay? need stomach medicine?

Hijikata: no need... alright, start/begin.

Amagiri: The Hakuo Gakuen Student Assembly will begin now. All students, stand! .....sit down.

Kazama: Then, start with each club's budget report, Amagiri.

Amagiri: Yes. these are the draft budgets for the various clubs/departments.

Kazama: The arts and literature club, the calligraphy club, and the photography club last year all needed 10,000; the music club which won a competition, in any case, needs a budget of 50,000; the newly established broadcasting club/depart of broadcasting to buy equipment, they need an increase of 20,000; the baseball team, soccer team and tennis team will be the same as last year with 50,000; the judo club, archery club, track and field team, and also the kendo club, given their achievements from last year......

What......100,000?! Oi amagiri, what's going on/what's this about?!

Amagiri: About this issue...

Kazama: I haven't approved of any of this!! any club/organization/group associated with Hijikata will not have its budget approved!!

Shiranui: Alright/Well, of the budget report was just read, the clubs that weren't named will will maintain the status quo this year, ok? If there's no problem, the draft proposal will be adopted directly.

(applause)

Kazama: Eh...... continuing on [next], regarding the cultural festival that is to be held in october.......Shiranui.

shiranui: hey, hey. But there's nothing much to say since it will basically be the same as last year.

Kazama: This year like previous years, Hakuo Gakuen will hold its cultural festival......

(Kazama voice's cuts out completely while Hijikata and Harada talk)

Harada: I originally though [he'd] poke a basket [probably blow a gasket], seeing him now though, it seems that things are going smoothly.

Hijikata: For better or worse, that's because he's the student council president. But, what happens next will be the real question[/test]......

Harada: Next...... you mean the matter of changing of school rules and regulations?

Hijikata: I don't know what sort of issues the students will raise, though it's better to keep an eye on them.

(aside ends)

Kazama: Read it out/This reading is finished [check video version. Alt: That will be all on/for that/Conclude with that]. Are there any objections to what was raised? If there are no objections then this proposal/motion will be passed/approved. the next topic of discussion will be pertaining to amending the school rules and regulations.

You should all remember/recall, the questionnaire about amending the school's rules and regulations that I had sent out.

Due to he subject of this questionnaire, we solicited opinions on the revision of school rules.

amagiri: kazama-sama, these are the results of the questionnaire.

Kazama: So many opinions were collected, this shows that everyone is quite diastisfied with the current school rules and regulations. I see I see.....

? ? ?: How about cancelling the classical literature class? As someone living in modern times, I cannot help but wonder if there is any real need to learn classical literature. I think the time for classical literature should be spent on something more meaningful. So I propose that the classical literature class be cancelled. ——Proposed by: Anonymous

Kazama: Hm, hahahahaha.... This suggestion/proposal/motion/draft truly is great! However I believe cancelling the classical literature class isn't enough, rather [we should be] abolishing the classical literature [teaching] position. Hm. This suggestion will be kept to discussed later.

Hijikata: oi!!! You've got to be kidding me!! Classical literature is a required subject for entrance exams! Really, it's already that Kazama is thinking about adopting this proposal, and the one who wrote this sort of proposal is also ridiculous, Souji ! You two, [come] to my office later! [either that or the principal's office.... but im leaning towards 'my' since 我 is in the TL. reword later]

Okita: Wait a moment/sec Hijikata-san, why do you think I wrote that proposal? The questionnaire was anonymous, there's no evidence that says that I wrote that proposal.

Hijikata: Regardless if you try to be anonymous, a proposal for cancelling the classical literature, there's no one aside from you in the entire school who would propose such a thing!

souji: wah, you seem to be really self-confident in that~ However, don't you think that students find Hijikata-san's classical literature class boring, I've seen not a few of them [may be: i don't think anyone i've seen would disagree...? check video later]?

hijikata: you bastard!!!

Harada: Calm down, Hijikata-san! You need to calm down! you should treat this as Souji fooling around.......

Okita: yes yes, I simply wrote down my heartfelt and honest thoughts~ [reword later? check video tl]

Hijikata: Sure enough you were the bastard who proposed this/it!!

Amagiri: Kazama-sama. do you want discuss the motion for cancelling the classical literature class later? I think you should continue with the next proposal. Further discussion on this draft may cause delays.

Kazama: To dare give/Daring to give me advice, you truly are brazen/impudent——I was originally going to be saying that, now you do as you say/that. [check video for last sentence]

Amagiri: I sincerely apologize.

???: Classes are 50 minutes in length, and they're too long! So can they be cut down to 30 minutes? If that happens, then the lunch period can be extended, which would mean more time to eat or even take a nap right? I think that this would absolutely be better!

——Proposed by a hopeful anonymous person [double check audio cuz the text on the video just says 'proposed by: anonymous']

Shiranui: Cutting the amount of time spent in class, that has my support! Kazama, pass this proposal [approve of this]!

harada: oi, oi! Don't you know how bad it would be/about the adverse/negative influence/impact/effect it would have, if you cut down on class time?

Shiranui: Hah? How bad effect it might have?! Shouldn't this be something to celebrate [Not sure but it might instead be: something happy/good to look forward to. check video tl]?

Harada: Hah...... you may think that cutting on class time would mean more time for playing around, but that way of thinking is wrong! Don't you guys know that each semester, exams are regularly scheduled? If class time is reduced, I'm afraid that it might mean being unable to learn everything before taking those exams. If that happens, you'd have to sacrifice your weekend for make up lessons. Is that alright with you?

Shiarnui: If that's the case, it would be better to reduce what the exams cover then!

Harada: In school, there are "learning essentials." If you feel like causing problems, and ignoring the minimal learning requirements, maybe should try being a teacher. If that happens, getting passing post-secondary entrance exams will become a dream. So, Heisuke, this type of draft proposal would be something that we can't approve of.

Heisuke: EH?! Harada-sensei, how do you know that this is something that I wrote?

Harada: Think with your head, who else would have come up with such an idea. To really think that you wouldn't get found out, that sort of thinking is completely incomprehensible.

Heisuke: ergh...........

Kazama: This type of shortsightedness really suits your identities as small fry. If class time is reduced, it'd better to have the classes cancelled altogether. Final exams cannot be considered as something to worry about, if I was writing an exam, I'd be able to get a perfect score even if my eyes were closed.

Amagiri: That skill is something that only Kazama-sama has.

Shiranui: Mah... The outward appearance is [might be] human, but [I/who] don't/doesn't know how many times he's repeated the school year/about the countless times [he's] repeated the school year.

Kazama: Returning to the subject, are there any objections to this proposal? It seems that there aren't, then [we're] moving on to discuss the next proposal.

???: I've heard that many students go play at the rail station/bus stop after school. Although moderate relaxation is harmless, but isn't playing at the game centre and KTV all night, something that goes against the responsibilities that students have? In order to prevent problems from occurring, I think that students should get permission from their teacher for where they go after school beforehand. [^check video tl for this later]

——Proposed by: Saito Hajime.

Kazama: oh.....? The proposals up until were all anonymous, it seems like draft is different. But, to have the teacher give permission approve of where one can go after school, what a stupid idea.

Saito: A stupid....... idea?! If one person disrupts the moral standards/discipline, it will cause a chain reaction. What's so stupid about a proposal to prevent that?!

Kazama: Just think about it for a little bit. Or is your brain too small so you can't [even] figure that out?

Saito: …………

Amagiri: Kazama-sama. Although it may be bold for me to act as your substitute/in your place, but may I be the one to handle this explanation?

Kazama: Approved.

Amagiri: yes!...... saito-dono, your opinion does sound somewhat reasonable. Because the act of playing around after school is not praiseworthy. However, after studying hard in school, it is necessary for suitable entertainment to be used as an outlet for accumulated stress. Just monotonously going to and from school will affect the students ability to think independently. Only by enriching their experiences will their minds be able to grow [more literally this sentence is about experience becomes the soil for minds to grow in... check video tl later].

Saito: But I never said anything about banning after school entertainment/recreation! I only proposed having teachers the approve of what can be done after school!

Amagiri: That will affect the students' ability to think independently. What is referred to as independence, requires individuals who think by themselves and make their own choices [says "to take action"]. I believe, that it would go against human nature, if a teacher was asked about for permission about being able to play in a certain manner [check video tl for this later]. What do you think of this perspective?

Saito: So it was like that. Just as you said. I actually proposed something that opposed Hakuo Gakuen's education policy....... I will accept this conclusion [word I have for this translates to 'reality.' check video tl later], and deeply reflect upon this.

Harada: But even though this has nothing to do with being self-reliant/independent, this sort of regulation is [would be] too harsh/strict.

Kazama: Hrm......is that worthless discussion finally over? Presumably everyone has already become tired of this sort of monotonous talk. Here is some good news. The draft I will be reading now, I will not be accepting any objections and [will be] pass[ing] it right away.

(students mumble in background)

Kazama: Hmph. I understand how you are all worrying about whether or not your proposals will be adopted. Ignorant fools! Get down on your knees/Grovel on your knees before me and pay attention to attention to what I have to say! "My wife must greet me every morning at my home. Although there will be difficulties in the implementation of this regulation, I will compromise in having my her greet me every morning in the student council room.

Hijikata: This terrible proposal, did you really think, that this wouldn't get vetoed! Don't you remember how the same draft was rejected last time!!!

Kazama: That's preposterous...... Didn't you hear me?! I remember saying "the proposal that I will be reading now, I will not be accepting any objections, and [will be] passing it right away."

Hijikata: We don't have even the slightest reason to accept the draft proposed by you! Really, originally I thought that this would be able to proceed smoothly, but I didn't expect for this to happen again. Furthermore, you need to restrain yourself, stop calling/don't call her "my wife!"

Kazama: Hrm~ I have no obligations to listen to your complaints. But....... it truly is a pity for my wife to not be here right not. If she was here, surely, she would be passionately watching me, and blushing shyly while crying tears of joy.

Souji: To be able to misunderstand to this degree, it's shocking to the point of laughter [hilarity?]. The content of this is the exactly the same as last time, and nothing's been changed.

Heisuke: (Fortunately), ["fortunately is included in the text tl but not video tl. check audio later]It seems like that guy caught a cold, which is she isn't here today.

Harada: It's seem that you can also do something smart. Well done, Heisuke!

Heisuke: hehe, right?

Kazama: Che! Too loud! After I've announced the passing the adoption of these proposals, you all/all of you bastards [check audio] should just obediently behave......!

Amagiri: Then, read out the next proposal.

Shiranui! Oh! That looks pretty good. "I hope for winter vacation to be as long as summer vacation, please give us a month of vacation!" Summer vacation is indeed a month long, winter break is only have a month!

Amagiri: To begin with, the length of summer vacation isn't the same across the country. In colder regions with more snow, summer vacation may not be a month. On the contrary, that region's winter vacation may be relatively longer. Summer vacation was originally established for escaping the hot weather.......

Shiranui: I know, I know! I get it already! Stop talking okay?

Amagiri: No. I am not finished speaking....

Kazama: Amagiri, Shiranui! You've got some nerve to be interrupting me while I talk! This is all your fault that we've strayed away from our next topic for discussion!! The next time this happens/If this happens again, I will not spare you! Remember that/keep that in mind!

Saito: I believe that if it wasn't for your pointless proposals, the current topic of discussion wouldn't have been so derailed.

Kazama: Listen to me, no matter the objections against the following/next draft, I will still implement it! Now remember that and listen carefully!

"Female students must report to the Student Council room immediately after the bell rings for lunch. At the time [they] must also bring a hand-made bento..."

Hijikata: Veto!

Kazama: "Female students must go to the Student Council room after..."

Hijikata: Veto!

Kazama: "Female students must..."

Hijikata: Veto!

Kazama: Hijikata, if you haven't listened to everything that I've said, surely you have a reason for it [/how can you have a reason to interrupt me]?!

HIjikata: It’s because you deliberately targeted her by writing so many proposals, bastard. [alt: "because, bastard, you deliberately targeted her..." will check audio for this later]

School rules are not your toys!

Kazama: You don't understand the obvious! As Hakuo Gakuen's student council president, I am obligated to make the school rules and regulations perfect! Therefore, the current school rules must be amended with only this draft!

Souji: Saying/Having said such beautiful/pretty words, isn't he just making excuses for his wilfulness?

Saito: Because there is only one female student in the entire school.

Kazama: Keh! You bastards! Do you guys mean to do everything you can to obstruct the path of love between me and my wife!?

Heisuke: what path of love......

Harada: It goes without saying that she's not your wife! Having said that though, to say spout such nonsense without backing down in front of everyone, that courage is really admirable.

Kazama: How could I possibly give up! My wife and I have been matched by the red thread/string [of fate]! This profound bond, even if the world stands against me, I will never back down!

[While I usually see 'thread' associated with the Chinese version of this belief, I don't know if the Japanese version of it uses 'string' or 'thread'....]

Shirnaui: What red string...... this is clearly just Kazama's own unbelievable delusions and his own wishful thinking.

Amagiri: Shiranui. You cannot say that/That mustn't be said. there's no telling if a miracle will occur. [reword more formally later]

Shiranui: Ah, if the sun rises in the West and the sky rains red, perhaps that might be true.... but, I don't think it's/that's going to work/it isn't anything but hopeless.

Amagiri: Mm............

Kazama: Heh, you've said enough. No matter what you think, the final decision is in my hands. Amagiri, all the drafts that were just read have been approved.

Amagiri: But... isn't that too unreasonable?

Kazama: What's the problem. I am the the student council president. Even if the [my] methods are unreasonable, no one would dare object.

Heisuke: Who'd accept that sort of ridiculous reasoning?!

Souji: That's right, if you think that you'll be forgiven for doing whatever you want as the student council president, then you're gravely mistaken. Eh.... (goes up on stage) I see.... these were the drafts that were read right?

Kazama: What the hell are you doing bastard?

Souji: Of course doing this! (tears all the drafts)

Kazama: ...! You bastard! You two quickly help me stop him!!!

Amagiri: Kazama-sama. I do not think that those drafts are suitable to be adopted.

Shiranui: I also agree/Agreed. Say, I'm very tired can I go home now(/ Anyway I'm tired can I go home now? [2nd one sounds better])

Kazama: Not permitted...!

Hijikata: Anyway! If you continue being a nuisance, we also have our own ways to respond. I don't care about the power you have/ about the powers of the student council president, but I'd advise you to not look down upon us teachers.

Harada: That's right, Kazama. I advise you to retreat while you're still able. If this continues, those so-called rules won't be able to protect you.

Amagiri: Kazama-sama. Listen to Hijikata-sensei and Harada-sensei's advice right now. This commotion/disturbance is getting bigger, and continuing this may cause others to doubt Kazama-sama's ability as student council president.

Kazama:.....Kuh!...! Heheheheheh.... You guys, I'l remember this! The next Student Assembly, I'll show off all my power to show everyone in the world just who my wife belongs to [check video tl]! Look forward to it!

Souji:...This type of behaviour... is this what they call a "defeated dog's barking"? [if it's not this interpretation.... i'm assuming it means something like 'running away in defeat,' or 'having your tail between your legs'or 'turning tail' since this mentions a dog - 负犬远吠 in chinese. or maybe its 'barking dogs seldom bite' that was the only idiom i found that that mentioned dogs and barking that might have been in JP when browsing. either way, i'll go i'll go double check the other version of this that has been translated later].

Saito: Exactly/Absolutely/(indeed/It is). I don't want to become like that person. /I don't want to be that kind of person, even if I walk astray/I don't want to be that kind of person, even if I'm not careful. [check video tl]

End

----------

well, this is now officially the longest thing I’ve translated... tho that won’t be the case when I get to Shinsengumi Oni-tan. i dragged this one out for a long time since it just looked like a massive wall of text in nimble... haaah thankfully all the other ssl dramas aside from “Another Chizuru?” are >15min... I think?

also no images being posted this time cuz i didn’t schedule this posting.

#hakuoki #hakuouki #hakuoki ssl #hakuoki drama cd #hakuoki drama translation

19 notes · View notes

missmonsters2 · 5 years

Text

Drive Her Crazy || Part IV

PAIRING: Wanda Maximoff x OFC/Reader

Summary: AU. Meet Wanda, the new ‘It’ girl. She’s built her social standing as a social influencer through Instagram and vlogging on Youtube. Queen Bee in her social circle, she’s got everyone wrapped around her finger. She’s perfect, you think. Girls like that require a little finesse, and you’re ready to play the game.

Warnings: Non-healthy relationship, psychological games, smut(?)

Note: Welcome to a Tumblr exclusive! PM me if you would like to be added onto the tag list for updates.

Also, these parts keep getting progressively longer...sorry 😬

PART I || PART II || PART III

PART IV of X

Count: 4655

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶

You pull up on the driveway of someone else who looks like they have a lot of money (well, you knew they did on the fact that it was a gated community, and then the person’s house had a personal gate again that you had to tell a guard your name before they opened it).

You parked your car onto their spacious driveway along with the other cars. Goddamn, this person had a fountain...in their driveway. You grab the wine you had gotten as a gift, your bag that had a little surprise for Wanda and make your way to the door.

Ringing the doorbell, you wait a couple seconds before someone opens the door. You’re greeted with Wanda’s blue eyes as she excitedly hugs you.

“You made it!”

You return her hug, and when you pull back, she’s already leading you through the massive house. In the kitchen, you find a group of people there who are flitting around preparing for dinner.

They all turn to you, curious and some smiling. You see Vision in the corner next to another man.

Wanda introduces you to everyone, and they’re greeting you. “That’s Tony and Pepper, they’re married. This is Steve and Bucky, that’s Clint and Bruce, my fiancé Vision there, and of course, the star of tonight, Natasha!”

You’re trying to keep up with the names, but you’re sure you’re going to have to ask for them multiple times tonight. At least you’ll remember Natasha since the party is for her.

“Congratulations are in order I hear,” you tell Natasha, offering her the wine bottle.

“I hope you like red,” you say.

Natasha grabs the bottle from you, eyeing it with an impressed raised brow.

“Bordeaux wine Pétrus. Impressive. Even my new boss hasn’t gifted me anything this nice,” she smiles at you and for a moment, you’re enchanted by her slender and seductive features.

“Hey!” You hear, looking over to see the man with the Goatee (Tony, you think?) yell indignantly.

“Working for me is the gift,” Tony says, and you try not to laugh as Natasha rolls her eyes. Tony turns to you, a twinkle in his eye. “I’ve finally managed to snipe Natasha from the competition, you see. I’ve got the best publicist in this state, possibly America.”

You whistle impressively, turning to Natasha who just winks at you. Wanda grabs your attention again by touching your arm. You look over and give her a smile.

“What’s...Bordeaux wine Pétrus? Is it that good?” You look over to see the unbelievably fit blond man ask (seriously his body is the shape of a Dorito).

“The bottle is around two grand, Steve. It’s more than good,” The guy next to him says. Steve’s eyes widen at you, and Wanda does the same. You just scratch the back of your head awkwardly with an upturn of your lip.

When dinner starts, you opt to sit across from Natasha instead of Wanda. The dinner is pretty peaceful until Natasha asks you what you do for work. Wanda is about to answer for you, but you answer first.

“I’m actually a DJ,” you say. Natasha hums, licking her lips.

“Really? I don’t think I recognize your face.” Natasha says, and everyone is squinting trying to see if they know who you are.

You chuckle, “Yeah, probably because I do wear a mask when I perform.”

“Ah, hah! Since I highly doubt you’re Marshmellow, you must be Lady Phantom.” Clint snaps his fingers, and everyone turns their attention to him but then back to you.

You nod once, putting another bite of your into your mouth. Natasha’s just smirking at you, and you’re returning the look with a slight raise of your brow.

“What’s wrong, Wanda? You look like someone just snatched your belongings.” Tony says, and you turn to look at Wanda who does look a little displeased.

She glares at you with a bit of sulk, “I can’t believe you just told everyone so easily, while I made a fool of myself before finding out.”

You laugh as she throws a grape at you.

“How did you find out?” Bruce asked.

You smile, taking the grape she threw at you and ate it. “Wanda had a photoshoot in Palm Desert the same time I had a gig there. Since she needed the ride, I took her along with me, and she so kindly gushed how she was a fan of Lady Phantom, not realizing that that was me. She didn’t find out until I was playing at the gig.”

Wanda groans as everyone begins to laugh, sending you another glare. Vision looks at you with slight displeasure showing on his face.

“I don’t understand the mystery. Why the mask? Isn’t it contradictory to have the mask but seek fame?” Vision asks.

You raise your brow at him with a crooked grin. “Well, I wouldn’t say I seek fame. It’s more of a result of my work. The mask is my branding. That’s how Clint was able to recognize who I was before I could say. I’m not opposed to the public knowing my face, but while I can, I enjoy my privacy.”

“It doesn’t feel very authentic,” Vision comments and Wanda elbows him in the rib, and he looks at her confused.

You merely shrug your shoulders. “My process is my own. My work speaks for itself, and I believe that image is a part of owning success and fame. You have to be extremely talented if you want to put your work out there anonymously as your brand. If you don’t believe in branding, then you’re just one of the billions of people who are floating with nothing to differentiate yourself. If you aren’t just made of talent, then you have to work hard, which means putting yourself out there. It would be incredibly naive to believe that success will just fall into your lap.”

You say and Natasha and Tony nod approvingly at you. You glance at Vision again with a subtly smug look in your face as he frowns at you with his brows furrowed.

The rest of the dinner goes smoothly, you and Natasha make a lot of conversation, and you purposely did that. You could see Wanda staring at the two of you, conflicted on trying to join in on the conversation but finding it hard to.

“You should show me your work sometime,” Natasha says as you both pick up the plates and head over the sink.

“Depends, Romanoff. What do I get in return?” You ask a little flirty. The redhead curves her lip upward.

“I’m pretty negotiable,” Natasha tells you in return. You lick your bottom lip and watch as Natasha eyes the action.

You’re about to say something else when Wanda comes up and interrupts you two.

“C’mon slowpokes, everyone is in the living room. Tony says you can just leave the dishes on the side.” Wanda grabs your arm and starts pulling you away while Natasha walks behind you two.

This time, Wanda gets you to sit next to her, and Natasha sits on your other side. Tony and Pepper had brought over the alcohol, including your wine while Steve and Bucky went over to the bar to grab some glasses.

They open your bottle and pour everyone a glass. You limit yourself to just this one glass as you want to be able to drive home later.

Once the drinks are served, Tony immediately announcing it’s now game time. You play a variety of board games. After about 4 games, you all opt to sit and relax a little.

“So,” Natasha starts. “Any upcoming plans anyone?”

“I’m taking Pepper to the Bahamas for our anniversary next week.” Pepper grins as she’s sitting in Tony’s lap with his arms around his waist.

“Yeah, I’m thinking of taking the kids and wife to our lake house for the rest of the summer,” Clint says.

“Bucky and I are going to Brooklyn to visit our friends there for a couple weeks. We actually are considering moving there.” Steve says, looking over to Bucky who nods.

“I have a huge project, so this is probably the last time I’ll see the outside world for a while,” Bruce says with a sigh, taking a sip from his glass.

Wanda sighs as she’s leaning against Vision. “I want to go to Wasteland, but I want to get a guest pass so I can avoid the crowd in the VIP section, but all the brands I’ve worked with couldn’t get me passes. I might just have to risk it at VIP.”

You smile, and everyone turns to you. You pull your bag towards you and dig for what you’re looking for. You pull out 3 Artiste passes and Wanda gasps.

“I’m actually performing at Wasteland. They gave me some Artiste passes.” You hand two over to Wanda so she can give one to Vision. She squeals happily and throws her arms around you. You return the hug, eyeing Vision briefly but he catches it.

“What are Artiste passes?” Natasha asks.

“They are basically above VIP passes. It is a secluded section for basically celebrities. You can only get them from producers of the festival or from artists. With the Artiste passes, you can go backstage though.” Wanda says as she admires the photos. She’s already taking pictures of them for her Instagram with her phone.

It was purposeful. You wanted Wanda to see how you could provide her anything she wanted where Vision could not, and the man could see that.

He eyed the passes with a level of anger but didn’t say anything.

You weren’t done there, though. Originally, you were going to give all three passes to Wanda and have her see which of her friends wanted to tag along, but you decided you were going to ask Natasha yourself.

The redhead was perfect in the sense that she was a moving piece to make Wanda look more carefully at you.

You tilt the last pass at Natasha.

“Come see me play,” you tell the redhead. She smirks and takes the pass.

“What happened to getting something in return?”

“I’m sure I’ll think of something there,” you tell her with a smile.

You could hear Clint snickering in the background.

“Let’s get back to playing some drinking games!” Wanda suddenly exclaimed, getting up and getting other people to stand up with her. You hid your smirk as you also stood up and held out your hand to Natasha to help her.

It felt like a frat party after with all the drinking games you haven’t played since college.

It was getting pretty late, and you were in the middle of a beer pong game with Steve and Bucky, and Natasha as your partner. You had let the redhead know you weren’t looking to drink as you wanted to be able to drive home safely after and she kindly drank every cup you guys lost.

It was getting to a pretty close game, and since you were both competitive by nature, you told Natasha you both needed to start trying to get your shots into the same cup so you could try to end it in the next turn.

On your next turn, you had shot one into Steve and Bucky’s middle cup, and Natasha followed your suit, easily shooting hers into the same cup. Steve and Bucky loudly groaned in disappointment as they began to drink the middle cup and all the surrounding cups that touched the middle.

You cheered, and Natasha smirked, taking her beer from the side and took a sip from it.

Opting to not play another round, Clint and Bruce went to play against Steve and Bucky. The two of you instead stood against the kitchen counter and chatted.

It was mostly just banter, but it was going pretty well until Wanda showed up, looking quite unhappy.

“I’m not feeling well. I want to go home,” she looked at Natasha before turning to you.

She looked pretty drunk, but you weren’t sure if you would say she looked sick. You made it clear you were looking for Vision but found him passed out on the couch from drinking too much.

You turn your attention back to Wanda and Natasha, and gave the redhead an apologetic smile.

“Alright, Wanda. Let’s get you home,” you tell her and she tries to walk but stumbles, causing you to reach out and grab her. She leans against you with her eyes closed.

“Sorry, Natasha. I’m going to head out and take Wanda since I haven’t drank. It was really nice to meet you and congratulations again.”

Natasha stops you from leaving for a second, grabbing a pen from the counter. She scribbles something on your hand, and when she’s done, you take a quick look to see it’s her number.

“Call me,” Natasha purrs, and you’re about to reply, but Wanda is tugging on your sleeve. You just give Natasha a smile and wrap your arm around Wanda’s waist to help her walk.

At the stairs, you place her on the step as you find her shoes to help her put it on. She’s quite compliant now, grinning a little as you slip on her flats.

“I’m like Cinderella,” she giggles.

You give a snort in response, “and what? I’m your pumpkin carriage ride?”

You’re helping her outside and placing her gently into the passenger seat and strapping her in. You really hope she doesn’t vomit as you get into the driver seat and drive off.

“No,” she whines like you’re supposed to get it. “Obviously, you put my shoes on. You’re my prince!”

You can’t help but laugh because she sounds ridiculous.

“Anyway,” Wanda says. “You’re getting along with Natasha really well.”

You turn over to look at Wanda, but she has her head against the window with her eyes closed so you can’t really tell exactly what she meant by that.

“Yes,” you say slowly. “She’s great.”

You hear Wanda grumble something under her breath that sounded strangely like, “I’m great,” but you can’t be sure.

When you arrive at Wanda’s house, you get out to open the passenger door and try to wake her up. She grumbles and throws her arms around your neck, and you’re stuck trying to half-drag, half-carry her to the door. You pull her keys from her pockets and help her up to her room. She mumbles that it’s the farthest room in the back.

When you settle her on the bed with a huff, you’re thinking that you need to start working out again. Not that Wanda was heavy, you’re just that out of shape.

Wanda shifts a couple times to get comfortable, and you just look at how adorable she is. Looking around, you look at the bedroom Wanda and Vision share. It seems like Wanda had mostly styled it. There was a giant picture of them at the beach together. You walk over the ledge to look at the smaller picture frames.

There were some of Vision and Wanda, a couple of the friends you had met today, but there was one photo of Wanda together with a man you didn’t recognize. He had his arm wrapped around Wanda, and her arm was around his waist as they laughed.

“That was Pietro...my twin brother.”

You turn around to see Wanda still lying in bed against her pillows, but her eyes were now open.

You walk over and sit next to her on the bed. “I didn’t know you had a brother.”

Wanda’s eyes flutter lightly as she looks downward. “I don’t anymore...”

Your heart race is picking up a little, you gently put your hand over hers. “Hey, hey, you don’t have to explain anything to me. I’m sorry.”

Wanda just shakes her head, wiping her tear. “No, sorry. It’s fine. It’s just...still hard to believe he’s gone sometimes.”

You shift against the bed a little more, but Wanda scoots over for you so you can sit next to her.

“It was just really sudden,” she starts, looking at the ceiling. “That morning it was normal, I had even called him to chat. But then in the middle of the night, the police show up at my door saying he was just at the wrong place, wrong time. He was shot many times because he witnessed a bank robbery.” It was the alcohol that made Wanda’s emotions so frayed as she choked on a sob. You wrapped your arm around her shoulder and pulled her into your arms.

“Shh, I’m so sorry, Wanda.” You say. You’re mostly sorry for bringing up such unpleasant memories, but Wanda just cries in your arms, her shoulders heaving as you rub her arm and back.

Eventually, the crying stops, but she doesn’t leave your embrace.

“Sorry,” she says hoarsely. “I don’t know what came over me.”

You merely just rub her arm in response and softly ask, “When did he pass?”

“It’ll be 3 years in a week,” she tells you. It’s just before Wasteland, so you’re surprised that she would want to go, but everyone has their way of grieving.

It’s silent for a moment until Wanda speaks up again. “Have you ever lost anyone?”

You look up at the ceiling for a bit before turning to her.

“Not like you have,” you say softly. “But my aunt passed away when I was 16. I was mostly raised by her since my parents were constantly working. My aunt was pretty much everyone I needed back then.”

“What happened?” Wanda asks, softly, leaning against your shoulder.

“Cancer. It came back pretty aggressively,” you say, reminiscing the past briefly.

“Sorry,” Wanda says, a little muffled.

You chuckle softly and shake your head. “It’s alright, my aunt was pretty intense about me accepting her death. Snarky little thing she was,” you said, and Wanda couldn’t help but chuckle.

“I remember when she first caught me smoking. Oh boy, she was so damn mad, I thought my life would end there. But then she went eerily calm, and that’s when you know you’re in deep shit with her. The goddamn woman made me smoke an entire pack at once. I still gag when I smell cigarettes.” You say, shivering at the memory.

Wanda bursts out into laughter, and you smile at your success in getting her to do so.

Wanda starts to open up, sharing stories about Pietro, laughing as she recalled some of them.

“He used to take me to Manhattan beach and make paprikash. He would always make it a picnic, and we would sit out there for hours, just remembering what it was like back in Sokovia.”

“How long were you in Sokovia?” You asked.

“We immigrated when we became 18 since our parents were gone.”

You nodded and looked over at her again. Her eyes were threatening to close, but she was fighting to hang on.

You turn your head away and put the back of your hand to your mouth, trying to not laugh at how cute she was.

“Alright, you. That’s enough for one night. You need to sleep.” You tell her, getting ready to get up and leave, but Wanda holds onto you.

“Stay,” she says, and you look confused. “Just until I fall asleep. Please?”

You take a deep breath in but nod and move back to your spot. Wanda settles in under the blanket this time, and it’s not long at all before she falls asleep.

You’re looking at the photo of Pietro and Wanda through the dark the best you can, tapping your leg idly.

Another moving piece.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶

You don’t have too much time to spend time or chat with Wanda the next week because you’re preparing your set and making sure everything is perfect for Wasteland. You do manage to call Natasha as she asked. It’s mostly spent with her asking about Wasteland and how to prepare for the event. It felt like she was expecting you to ask her on a date, but you were saving that.

That week, you had also spent time looking for a restaurant that served authentic paprikash. You managed to find one, but it was a little out of your way. You still went, of course. It was owned by an old woman who ran it with her son.

You ordered the dish, and it tasted amazing. While you had nothing to really compare it to, it felt right. You probably sat there for hours trying to figure out what was going on in the dish with an insane amount of Googling.

After sitting for two hours, the old woman came up to you and sat down.

“What is it that you want?” She asked with a heavy accent, looking at you suspiciously. “Are you trying to steal recipe?”

“What? No!” You say but then pause. “Well, I guess kind of, but not to sell. My friend is from Sokovia, and she gets homesick sometimes...I just want to learn how to make this for her and hopefully make her happier.”

The old woman just stares at you before getting up and walking off. You think she’s just going to leave you alone again until she turns back.

“Well? Are you coming?” She says with a raise of her wrinkly brow.

You get up automatically and follow the old woman into the back. She pulls out the ingredients and puts it in front of you.

“You will start with seasoning chicken...”

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶

It’s early in the morning of Pietro’s death anniversary. You’re just planning to bring some paprikash to Wanda since you’re pretty sure Vision is spending the day with her.

You have other things to do during the day, but around late evening, you make the dish. You’ve damn near perfected it at this point with the help of the old lady.

You get the contents into a cordless slow cooker and carefully bring it into your car. When you drive over to Wanda’s, you see the lights on. You bring the pot over and use your elbow to ring the doorbell.

To your surprise, Vision answers the door.

“Oh,” he says, looking confused. “Hello.”

“Hey...” you say. “Wanda home?”

Vision purses his lips and rubs the back of his neck.

“Um...today is kind of...” He starts, but you cut him off.

“I know what today is,” you tell him, trying to not roll your eyes.

“Oh,” Vision says, looking surprised. “Okay. Well, Wanda has told me she is someone who prefers to spend this day alone. She pretty much spends it at the beach the entire day.”

You’re floored at his response.

He’s seriously never tried to do anything for her on this day?

You almost want to laugh in his face.

“Right...” You say. “Cool, well, bye.”

Without saying anything else, you turn and walk off back to your car.

You had an idea. You just needed to get a couple things from the store first.

When you got to the beach, the sun was setting. There were still many people walking around, but most were beginning to leave. Carrying everything you could in your bags and hands, you set up your picnic.

With a sigh of relief, you sit down and pull out your phone. Holding the phone against your chin, you think for a moment.

With what Vision said, she was most likely already here. You look over to the pier and see many couples walking along it.

Then you see her.

She’s someone you would never miss. She was sitting at the edge, feet dangling over the water with her back turned to you.

You grinned and dial her number. From a distance, you could see her pull out her phone from her pocket, staring at it. For a second, you don’t think she’s going to pick up, but at the last second, she does.

She calls your name out a little confusedly.

“You know,” you start. “Pretty girls shouldn’t sit alone on a pier. There’s a high probability of attracting trouble.”

There’s silence on the line for a moment.

“And how would you know that?” She asks, and you see her turn her head left and right as if to search for you.

“Mostly because well, you’re a pretty girl, and I’m like 95% sure the dude on your right behind you is planning your kidnapping.”

“You think I’m pretty?”

You laugh, “Seriously? Of all things I say, that’s what you catch on?”

Wanda looks behind her and does see the guy creepily gazing at her, but she’s searching around again.

“Where are you?” She asks, obviously knowing you’re close by.

“Behind you on your left...keep turning....stop.” You guide her, and she makes direct eye contact with you even though you’re a bit away. You think that’s her jaw-dropping, but it’s a little too far for you to discern for sure.

“Oh my god, what are you doing?” Wanda says, standing up.

“Well, come over and find out,” You say and hang up the phone.

It takes a couple minutes for Wanda to reach where you are, but when she does, she’s in awe at everything.

“What is this?” She asks, tears welling up in her eyes.

You get up and stand in front her, putting on a nervous grin. “I know today...well...sucks. And I know it’s not the same as him being here, but you deserve more than just sitting on a pier by yourself.”

Pulling her to sit down on the pillow, she looks at everything.

“How did you know?” She asks.

“Well...I...I guess I stopped by earlier and Vision told me...I stopped by to give you...well, this.” You awkwardly stumble over your words but turn to the slow cooker and open the lid. The food is still piping hot as you left the cooker on to prevent the food from getting cold. The aroma immediately hits the air, and Wanda groans happily.

“Is that paprikash?” She asks, eyes wide with a small smile.

“I sure hope so...” you mumble. It wasn’t that you doubted the old lady (well you kind of did), but Wanda was trying it, and you were nervous as fuck. This was a dish she ate with her deceased brother.

Wanda grabs a bowl and the ladle you brought along and scoops herself some. You’re trying to not obsessively watch her as she tries her first bite, but you’re definitely waiting with bated breath.

She closes her eyes and hums satisfyingly, and you release the breath you were holding.

“Wow, this tastes just like home...how did you know how to make it?” Wanda asks, scooping more into her mouth.

You relax a little, scooping some yourself to eat.

“There’s actually a restaurant owned by this old Hungarian woman about 40 minutes away from where we live. I went to eat there last week and pretty much loitered until she showed me how to make it...provided I’m not opening my own restaurant.” You say as if it wasn’t a big deal, happily eating your meal.

You notice Wanda just staring at you, lips turned slightly upward as she softly but intently gazes at you. She then turns her attention down to your fingers that have a couple band-aids on it. You follow her eyes and sheepishly laugh.

“Yeah...I wouldn’t say cooking is my strongest skill and she takes paprikash very seriously.” You flashback to the number of times you accidentally nicked your finger or burnt it on the stove.

Wanda is looking even more endearingly at you, and you internally feel the satisfaction.

“Thank you,” she says sincerely, putting down her finished bowl. “This was really sweet of you.”

You just smile in return and shrug your shoulders. “Don’t spend this day completely alone, okay? I would hate to hunt you down again.”

Wanda smile as you, glint in her eyes as she relaxes.

“Perhaps that wouldn’t be bad.”

PART V

559 notes · View notes

pokecommunitycenter · 4 years

Text

Hi Dash !! It’s Time to Meet a Member of the RPC !!

Ditto would like to introduce... Dun Duuuuuun !!

It’s Jason ♡ !! Though some of you may know them as @haematophiliac !!

Established in Spooky October of 2018, they’ve been around the RPC for a good long while as a Team Rocket Scientist OC, but here’s a looksee at some things you may have not known !! Ditto hopes you enjoy getting to know the writer just as much as Ditto did !!

♡ Interview... START !!

Ditto would like you to introduce yourself a little bit. The url you go by, maybe how you picked it. Was it a joke at first that you just stuck with, does it have significant meaning?

The username is what people would call a lover of blood. I started Jax in … 2018? Octoberish and he had the common username including Rocket in it and I decided to pick a theme more fitting to him. Eventually I settled with the current one as it fits him as a blood obsessor to put it bluntly. I mean he likes blood, works around a lot of it and all that so it just… Well, stuck!

Was there something about Team Rocket in general that drew you in? Over other ‘evil’ organizations, Rocket is considered the OG & probably largest. But, over Plasma/Galactic, what made you choose Rocket?

I’ve always been a Rocket fan. I started in the Pokemon fandom (can you call it a fandom back then) in 1998 when I was only eight by watching the anime. You could say that Rocket started my love for bad guys actually! I used to adore Jessie and James so much. They were just so fun, funny and adorable. Maybe I had a crush on one… Ahem! But yes, as a kid I fell for the trio (I didn’t forget loveable Meowth there!) and ever since then I’ve been a fan. I love all the bad guys mind you but Rocket holds a special place in my heart. Just always been like that.

A bonus question !! Did any characters from the original Anime / Franchise… help you develop Jax at all?

A good question but Jax actually was inspired by a character I role played in a completely different fandom. I mean you cannot compare them - Jax is a human with so many faults and the other character is… Well, a plain old monster. But when I first made Jax I put little bits of the old character into him, such as formal speaking and love for blood. He started pretty much as a clean slate. I evolved him over the first few weeks.

Do you think that, because you play a character that is not a ‘good guy’ or as you put it, a monster, that people that may not know you well find you hard to approach?

Indeed so. Though I only speak of experience in the past here! When I played my full out monster in another fandom, people would tell others they were actually scared of me on an OOC level. Needless to say I’ve spoken to many people who were scared and helped them realise that it is just a muse I play. When it comes to Tumblr I find the fandom much more open and less afraid? Though I don’t know for certain because people could be afraid for all I know and I just don’t know. I hope I’m approachable enough anyway!

So then !! To help the part community that may not know you well, or might be a little hesitant because you play a blood loving bad guy, what are some things that you may have in common with everyone? Do you have a favorite pokemon? Or a region that just was WACK & you loved it so much? What’s on that most repeated playlist you got? Or maybe a few movies that you really love?

I read every blog’s rules and I’ve noticed that a lot of people are socially anxious. Which to be fair… I am too! I get nervous around people I don’t know and aahhhh, well, I’m in the exact same boat. We all start as strangers and all it takes is one foot forward to break that ice but, like others, I do find that first step very intimidating. I’m just your average nerd to be fair haha. As for my favourite Pokemon? Sneasel! I fell in love with that little critter after watching the Celebi movie when it came out. Favourite region would be Hoenn. I just have fond memories of it I guess as a Ruby fan. It was the first game my battery ran out of energy on. My music is too horrific for anybody’s ears if that’s what you mean hah. And movies? … … Digimon the movie (1+2+3 in Japan and just the first (all three combined) in UK and presumably other places too).

As someone who feels that weird wiggle when trying to step out of your comfort zone to make friends. Do you have any advice for people that want to get to know you better? Or, reaching out to people in general?

When reaching out to me - or anybody else - I find the best approach can be a simple hello. It instantly shatters that ice between two people. Like… Many of us are afraid to simply say hello. But if you manage to break that first bit it’s amazing! If you don’t there is always another day. Conversation can escalate from a mere hello. Or even reply to an open post if serious or funny! That first step is the hardest indeed but things get easier after that first hurdle. The worst someone can do is walk away and then perhaps it just wasn’t meant to be. Everybody has friends in the end and making more is great.

That said. We all know how the Poke RPC has its ups, & its downs. Sometimes both happen in one day. LOL. There is always room for growth though, & Ditto believes that everyone can work together to make that happen. Is there anything you would like to see change in the community?

Everything in life will come with ups and downs, it’s just how things go. We can all work through things however. If something bad happens there’s always a light at the end of the tunnel. As a community it is great we can all work on whatever needs addressing. I understand some people rather turn a blind eye depending upon the situation. We all should work on what makes us comfortable. Nonetheless, if I could change one thing I’d change anon hate. Argh. That’s one thing that gets under my skin. We, as a community, should be open to criticism and praise alike and nobody should need to harass another person anonymously. If someone has a disagreement then they should tell the person. Only that way can they work on the issue. But then again there is needless anon hate without true purpose behind it and that makes me sad. But nobody is perfect and sometimes people will rear their ugly side. Yet when anon hate has popped up it has been utterly overwhelming to see everybody support each other with kindness!

Ditto wonders, do you think anon hate may… slow down, or go away, if it was ignored instead of responded to when received? Most times, the people that feel the need to do hurtful things to others is for response. The attention received whether it is good or bad.

I think it’s highly dependent upon the situation. As someone who has received hate in the past (not on Tumblr mind you) I found that even ignoring people doesn’t work. Yet every case is different. Some do it for response, some do it to just get under someone’s skin. We can’t tell which however. If, say, it is needless hate then to ignore it would be the best option, even reporting it to Tumblr’s staff. But if in the situation something needs defending like a misconception then it could be a good idea to clear the air. Keyword could though. I’ve learned that people will get ideas into their mind and battle for it rather than accepting what is truth. In those cases a good air clearing is good and then to ignore any further.... Jabbing could be best. But if people feel the need to respond they should have the freedom to, as well as the freedom to ignore it.

Is there anything you’d like to pass on to those in the RPC that receive anon hate? Maybe a word of advice, or just something supportive to remember if it ever happens?

Well, as long as someone isn’t breaking any rules, doing something bad OOC or whatever- Actually I was going to say they should keep going and doing their thing. And yet I feel the need to mention that all people make mistakes in their lives. Anon hate is a bad way to go. The person on the receiving end of a message is a person too. They have feelings and thoughts and a life also. If you ever receive anon hate then just remember that there’s someone sending it and perhaps they don’t realize their mistake. That isn’t to say it’s justified. Just that people do indeed forget there are real people involved. … I think I word things bad! I mean… Anon hate is wrong, end of. But it is so easy to forget that real people are sat to read it. If you ever get anon hate then it is best to ignore it. That spark could evolve into a full blown fire and make you worse off. Hm, I forgot my train of thought but in the end we all need less hate and to just enjoy ourselves. People tend to send hate from bad experiences with the person or disagreements if right or wrong on either side but words are just words on a screen. They can say all they want to you but you are you. You are a person who deserves a life and love and no mere text on a monitor - Or phone screen! - can ever truly harm you.

Ditto thinks you did a fine job. We all take time to find words in our own ways, & no one has the perfect ones all the time. So please do not worry about wording things. It takes some practice sometimes, when you’re put on the spot !!

Ditto would like to wrap up with something uplifting & super positive. After your time here in the Poke RPC, what are some of your favorite memories? Things that make you stick around, or just enjoy seeing go on? Give Ditto a little insight ( & the RPC too ) on what makes you happy to be here.

I have a vast array of good memories. Mainly ones of that first move of saying hello to someone or just that first interaction. Then again you’re asking someone with a bad memory! I truly just enjoy seeing people having a good time, enjoying their time here. When people are comfortable enough to do crack threads, that’s something that makes me smile. For instance the RPC could have been super strict and look down upon anything not considered serious and yet there everybody is just having fun! I enjoy watching people get along all in all. When new relations are formed, plots explored, the crack-like threads that ensue. Dash commentary is always a favourite. It shows someone isn’t afraid to get involved. I like it when people aren’t afraid. As I said, we’re all humans with lives and just watching people have fun makes me smile, even if I’m not involved. And of course, being involved in things makes me happy too, to just be included :D

A big Thank You !! to Jason for allowing Ditto to take some of their time for this interview.

Ditto hopes everyone has a good Monday !!

See you next week for the next Community Interview. ♡

#haematophiliac #◓ Community Interview !!#Community Interview

17 notes · View notes

five-wow · 5 years

Text

10.01 thoughts (or basically a rambly recap, very spoilery, with a lot of caps lock abuse) under the cut!!! :D

JERRY’S BEEN SHOT. that’s not actually a surprise at this point in any way, but oh gosh, poor guy. “it hurts more than i thought it would.” oh no. :c

i’m confused though - grover’s there calling an ambulance, jerry is bleeding, steve is keeping pressure on the wound, but where’s danny? clutching his heart out of frame? OH WAIT he could be arresting ezra hassan, i suppose?

on screen: 2 weeks later. jfdkfjdk they resolved that cliffhanger in like, under thirty seconds.

love jerry’s longer curly hair! REALLY LOVE that jerry and junior are playing battleship, omg.

jerry thought about HIS DND BUDDIES WHEN HE GOT SHOT. i love him. (i’m also both worried about his mental health and glad they’re showing him actually feeling some repercussions from getting shot, aside from the flesh wound.)

tani and junior!!! are going to the opera!!! wonderful, i’m into it.

AH. here we have steve on his date, omfg. it all looks so pretty - the background, the restaurant, the date, steve. REALLY AWKWARD conversation though, fjdkfd. steve’s been hanging with danny too much - as soon as someone asks “what are you thinking” he just opens up his heart.

“it’s just crazy, you know. things that happen at work.” FDJKFDJF i’m glad he’s seeing that AFTER NINE YEARS.

DANNY CALLS. i’ve seen the clips that were drifting around tumblr, so i knew it was going to happen, but still. DANNY CALLS. IN THE MIDDLE OF STEVE’S DATE.

“i think it’s best,” steve says, about taking a phone call from danny while he’s in the middle of a first date with a really pretty woman who seems very kind about his total awkwardness, oh BOY

the WAY danny says “hi” just already has me in stitches. i die. and then steve’s “dude! i don’t know.” he sounds so frustrated! poor guy.

“words are kinda just, they’re falling out of my mouth, i don’t know why.” OH STEVE. also: that’s 80% of all fic in which steve finally confesses his feelings to danny ever. thank you, canon, for giving us a steve who is canonically prone to this.

“do you have any game at all?” danny asks, of steve, WHO HE IS CALLING IN THE MIDDLE OF A DATE. the co-dependency here is HIGH and it’s probably unhealthy but i’m enjoying it a lot, truly.

okay so, steve says “you’ve called twice, we haven’t even ordered!” and then DANNY SAYS “if you answered my texts, i wouldn’t have to call” and that’s just ALL SO BAD. they are TERRIBLE together and that woman should probably run far away.

danny! way to build up steve’s confidence on this date by telling him his thing is awkward and messing things up, holy shit.

I’M SCREAMING. “that was danny. who i love. very much.” I AM YELLING. YES. GOOD. PREMIUM CONTENT.

just. i love “i love you”s, okay. i love them. we got one (1) in s9 at the end of 9.01, but we’re off to a good start now in 10.01, with steve telling his frigging date that he loves danny, oh my.

IT GOT WORSE. i paused like, in the middle of steve’s sentence, and then as soon as i hit play the date said “sounds like my ex” and steve says “you know, it’s funny that you say that, because it’s kind of like a marriage” and uh, hello steve, i made a gifset about that the day before yesterday, thank you for giving me an update, but also just. wtf. wtf holy shit

i. i just. this is supposedly steve on a date with a woman being all heterosexual, but it’s really an extremely mcdanno scene, like ten times more than i was prepared for, wow.

real talk though, i’m almost certain this relationship isn’t going anywhere, but this woman seems really cool!!! i love her so far.

tani is actually enjoying the opera and junior seems to be paying more attention to her than the stage and i have no idea if this is actually an officially official date between them or if they’re still “just friends”, but it’s all so cute. and then, of course, some anonymous guy shows up with a sketchy briefcase that’s inevitably going to contain weapons, but oh well, it was nice for how long it lasted.

a slightly updated intro!!! katrina law is already in it (which i like) and the new group shot is kind of crowded but really nice, but fjdkfdjkdf they chose a really awkward moment where adam is supposedly typing something on the tech table but he’s REALLY OBVIOUSLY just randomly tapping his fingers on it. that’s going to haunt me. oh dear show runners, why.

danny... says steve was blowing his date, as they arrive on the crime scene that junior and tani found, and steve says he has a second date and danny goes “you got a second date?” incredulously and almost dismayed and that just really sounds like he WANTED steve to blow it. what is this, danny, setting steve up with a pretty woman from steve’s school to test him? see if he’ll say no and fall in your arms instead, and when he doesn’t, you’re disappointed?

even the lighting in this random stairwell gun fight chase scene is kind of pretty! the blue and red? i like it.

oh NO, steve, you’re not even ten minutes into a new season and you’re chasing some suicidally parcouring bad guy across roof tops and into a jump that’s REALLY going to give danny a heart attack, jesus.

fdjkfd danny telling steve that ten years ago he would’ve made that jump? telling him he’s forty? i’m not sure if that’s kind of mean or really good, but it might be both.

plot stuff happens, but i keep getting distracted by all the grey in steve’s beard and his new, longer hair. it’s good.

i like quinn’s introduction!!! i really do, more than i’d expected. and honestly, that déjà vu thing lenkov was talking about is very faint to me, to the point where it’s mostly just there because danny says it out loud in the text and then forcibly makes it so. they’re not in steve’s garage, it’s the wrong car they’re standing next to, there are three people instead of two and there’s no “one, two, three” and showing badges, but steve yeets his badge over the windshield of the car in quinn’s direction. the similarity isn’t that strong.

danny going “i gotta follow him” about steve and “i don’t know [shrugs]” about where they’re going is beautiful.

i’m about halfway through the episode now and steve and danny have spent SO MUCH time together and it’s really good but also has me slightly worried that they’re pushing all the steve&danny content for the entire season in one episode, omg. it’s good, though. i’m happy for now.

adam is still doing yakuza stuff. i get it, because it’s the one big thing they’ve given his character, but i do get kind of tired of it. he’s supposedly out, but every time they need it for plot reasons, he still has connections somewhere that are willing to help him for whatever reason.

and then quinn shows up and pulls a gun on adam, fjdkfd. listen, i know i said i was getting tired of him doing the yakuza thing over and over, but shooting him would be a little drastic.

danny: “this is good, we’re chasing a monster truck. that’s totally normal, right?” how is it that NOW they’re both suddenly realizing their lives are kind of crazy? they weren’t crazy before, guys? guys??

HAH, the guy in the truck drives over a dozen cars. that’s ridiculous, but a lot of fun, omg.

danny, when he finds tani and quinn in the same room at hq: “oh good, you two have met.” YES. MY SENTIMENTS. except i’m perhaps a little more exuberant about it. TWO MAIN FEMALE CHARACTERS IN ONE SCENE YES GOOD I LIKE THIS. we haven’t had this since... season 4, maybe? when catherine was briefly part of the team?

oh SHIT. danny: “are you sure you’re not related to steve in any way?” okay SO. we’re all assuming quinn is steve’s new love interest, but quinn being steve’s secret half sister somehow? also nonsense, but nonsense i’d like. and i mean, they need to keep the mcgarrett family drama alive somehow, so this could be fun.

quinn: “can’t this thing go any faster? [steve looks at her weird] what?” steve: “nothing. just never had that complaint before.” that is a LIE. i know for a fact that that’s a lie, because i have a stupid amount of knowledge of h50 of the top of my head and one of the things i know is that in 8.01 tani pops up between steve and danny while she’s in the backseat of the camaro and ALSO asks if it doesn’t go any faster. i know what they’re going for here, setting quinn and steve up as equals, and i like what they’re trying to tell us about quinn as a character in theory but come on, if you’re trying to convince us steve is all impressed by this woman that you might be setting him up with romantically, at least do some continuity fact checking on your own show, guys.

anyway! i do like that it’s canon that all women in five-0 think the camaro isn’t fast enough. get wrecked, steve and danny, HA.

when steve said to the bad guy “my friend lou here is going to put some handcuffs on you” i thought at first that he said “liu”, as in quinn’s last name, and oh man, first they had tani and junior’s last names as rey and reigns, which was close enough, but now they have lou and liu, gosh.

!!! this talk between steve and quinn in front of kamekona’s?? i LIKE IT. A LOT. we get to know a little more about quinn and steve genuinely does treat her as an equal and a capable colleague and there’s nothing especially romantic about this, which is good this early on even if they’re doing that later because i do feel like it could possibly work but right now it would just be really weird and very forced and i’m just really relieved that’s the dynamic they’re going for. this, this is good.

OH BOY. “we’re breaking up with you, danny” steve says. i... wow.

FAIR THOUGH. it’s probably a REALLY GOOD idea of steve to maybe involve danny a little less in his dating life if he wants to, well, actually have one that’s viable for life, but oh GOSH. danny going “you can’t cut me out” when steve tells him this? danny is just. so interested in steve’s romantic life, damn.

tani: “mom and dad are fighting again.” fdjkfdjk YES. this time it’s not even junior saying this to eddie behind steve and danny’s back, it’s just tani saying it out loud to the entire group and nobody says anything about it so uhhh that’s accepted fact then, within the team. GOOD.

ohhhh jerry is leaving. also not a real surprise and it’s probably kind of good that the team doesn’t endlessly keep growing if quinn joins this season, but ahh, i’m sad, anyway.

GROUP HUG. i love EVERY SINGLE THING ABOUT THIS.

oh gooood, somebody put a bomb in the champ box in steve’s garage. that’s harsh.

final thoughts: i LIKED THIS. very much!!! i’m relieved about that, tbh, because at least i’m happy about the start of the season, which seems like a good sign, haha. i love quinn so far, there was REALLY GREAT mcdanno stuff in this, i love that steve is dating again, tani and junior seem to be dating, jerry is fairly healthy and happy - all around lots of good stuff.

i do kind of think that cliffhanger from last season got extremely little attention (we didn’t even see ezra hassan get arrested, and what happened to her kid? where was danny? idk it was weirdly short and quick), but it’s still possible they’re coming back to that in a later episode, idk.

#h50 #10.01 #h50 spoilers #episode rambles

17 notes · View notes

missroserose · 4 years

Note

If you think about your experiences, what feels like the key or the piece of you that unlocked and created who you are today?

Hey, nonny. I’m sorry about the delay in answering—this has provided a lot of food for thought.

Thing is, I’m not sure there’s a single answer, a lone key that fit in the tumbler (almost wrote “tumblr”, hah) and unlocked the puzzle box of my personality. It was more like bits and pieces—not a puzzle box, just a plain old puzzle.

Probably the earliest piece I can think of was music. I had the same plastic-recorder-with-Disney-songbook set almost every kid of my generation had—mine was from The Little Mermaid—and slowly figuring out how to make it work, how to turn the whistles and honks into a coherent set of notes and then something with shape and feeling, was just amazing. A little later, I took up the flute, and it felt right in a way few things have. Same with voice, and guitar.

Another was when I decided I wanted to be a kinder person. Ten years or so earlier, I’d decided I wanted to be quick-witted and sharp—and I’d developed that admirably, but (as I’ve written elsewhere) it was hampering me in my personal relationships. I remember writing a Facebook post talking about how I wanted to change, wanted to be compassionate and empathetic and someone people were comfortable confiding in, relying on—but I didn’t really know how to start, and was terrified I never would. To this day, I’m not sure I could point to a single thing I did to start down that path; it was more a collection of things. Spending time around people who modeled kindness. Learning to run my responses by my internal empathy checker. And ruining more than a few budding friendships by reverting back to my old, self-protective ways and saying the wrong thing. It’s been rough, and it’s still a work in progress. But I’m so much happier than I was then—I feel more me.

Another has been various body modifications I’ve made. Some were just for fun, or to try out—some haircuts and the VCH comes to mind—but sometimes I’ll have one in my head for a while, and when I finally get it done, it feels right—my cartilage piercings were like that, and my thigh tattoo. Others are almost aspirational—like I’ll make a conscious decision, this is something that feels like who I want to be, and I’ll get it as a reminder. The tattoo design @klayr-de-gall and I are working on is kind of like that.

There’ve been other things. Stories I’ve written, songs and books and movies that came along at just the right time. Memories that stick with me. Guidestones along the path that brought me to where I am, and that will, I hope, take me somewhere I want to go. And, of course, the experiences I’ve had and continue to have, and the choices I’ve made in response to them.

Maybe that’s why I can’t really answer your question straight out, nonny. Because, like it says in my bio, I’m a work in progress—and I hope to be until the day I die, whether that’s next week or next century.

anonymously message me one thing you want to know about me!

#about me #askbox games #one thing you want to know about me

2 notes · View notes

composeregg · 5 years

Text

TWEWY Imprint Zine Article Preview!

This is my preview for the Imprint Zine!!! I wrote a really really long article (which is like 3 mini-articles in one) that’s over 3k words! It was super fun! Sadly tumblr messes with the formatting a bit, but I’ve done my best to preserve the essence of it!

The @imprintzine is absolutely gorgeous and I love it, everyone did amazing! I’m super honored to have been picked as a writer for it!

Preorders are open until July 28th!

There’s also a giveaway running until July 19th! You could get a free physical copy of the zine!

---

NEW CREATORS SPOTLIGHT

Hello again readers, and welcome to this month’s New Creator Spotlight! We find up-and-coming artists of all types to highlight! From fashion, music, and art, we know how to find the hidden talent in Shibuya and illuminate them all for you to see!

Mr. Mew Creations

First up is Mr. Mew Creations, a new fashion brand led by the fabulous Eri and Shiki Misaki. This duo has taken the fashion scene by storm with their innovative ideas and inspiring designs. From dresses to bright three-piece suits, these two push the boundaries of how we define outfits.

[---]

We sat down with the girls for an interview in their studio to talk about their threads, and they had a lot to say!

Thank you for interviewing with us. Could you both introduce yourselves for our readers?

Eri: Yeah sure! Thank you for interviewing us! I’m Eri, the lead designer of our two-person team, Mr. Mew Creations! I do most of the conceptual work, putting ideas down on paper and seeing where that gets us. Shiki definitely helps with that, but her talent shines in, well-- She can tell you!

Shiki: Hah, yeah! I’m Shiki Misaki! I’m the seamstress, so I made all the outfits you can see here in our workspace! Taking what Eri gives me, I bring our ideas to life! We’re both good in each other’s field, but together it feels like we’re unstoppable. She’s handed me some amazing designs to work with, and some I never thought I’d be able to turn into reality. The star of our show, the dress, was one of those. It almost ended up in the trash on more than one occasion, actually. We had to completely redesign it multiple times because we’re both perfectionists, and because someone sees the laws of physics as a challenge to beat. Eri likes to see how far we can push things past their limits, but we work best together because I can reel her back in if it goes too far.

[---]

Can you tell us a bit about yourselves and your brand? How you got started, or where your mascot came from?

Shiki: Oh! Our mascot, Mr. Mew, was the first thing I ever made. I still have the original, and I carry him around with me. My quality of work has improved a lot, but he’s a big comfort item. He helps me face all the big scary monsters of the world, and I want him to be there to help others too.

[---]

Neku Sakuraba

The artist of the month is none other than Neku Sakuraba! If you’ve taken a walk around Shibuya, you’ve already seen his stuff! This graffiti expert has been gaining a name for himself with stunning displays of color and intricate designs. If you frequent 104 or Molco, you’ll have seen his stylish bold lines on ads for some of the stores!

He first started making waves in the art world last December, when he put up a mural in the Miyashita Park Underpass. Dubbed Hachiko’s Guardian Angel by the public, it features a glowing figure standing over Hachiko, with white feathery wings stretched out over Shibuya’s night-time skyline. There are people at the base of the statue, and musical notes fill the outer space. We reached out to Sakuraba himself for commentary, and managed to secure an interview in his studio!

[---]

Thanks for welcoming us to your studio! Can you give us an introduction?

Neku: Right, hi, thanks for interviewing me. I’m Neku Sakuraba. Music geek, CAT fanboy, unwilling follower of fashion trends. That one over there [he gestures toward his friend] is Joshua. Please ignore everything he says. He decided to be here for “moral support,” but I think he just wants to tease me.

[Joshua, at this, gasped, and said, “I would never!” but as requested, his further commentary has been cut from the interview.]

[---]

Fascinating! Do you feel like there’s a story you can make from that, one you might tell in the future?

Neku: I don’t think this is ever going to be a story or comic, unfortunately. It’s more of a personal piece. A few years ago, I only had one friend, my first friend, but I lost him. When he died, I isolated myself, and it took a lot from some special people to draw me out of that shell. Even now, I wish I could see him again, and the idea of him still being out there, watching over me and my new friends, comforts me when I miss him the most. I guess I’m like Hachiko, waiting for a dead person to come home.

[---]

The Albatross

Our final creator of the month, someone a bit less new, but never interviewed, is The Albatross! Their first album, Noise, featured CAT artwork on the cover: an albatross in flight, with TV static cutting through the image. These two are a mysterious duo, but The Albatross takes the title of most elusive. Despite gaining fame from fans latching onto CAT art, The Albatross has never given the public a single word.

Until now, that is! With their second album, Pulse, set to release in a couple of weeks, they have consented to an interview for the first time!

[---]

Thank you for choosing to have your first interview ever be with us! Can you give us an introduction? Nothing too personal is required!

Albatross: You were the only ones I felt were trustworthy, and the only ones completely willing to honor my anonymity. Also, a friend may have bribed me into it with promises of ramen. As for introductions… I am The Albatross, composer of music, avid Tin Pin fan, and a nerd when it comes to all things Shibuyan. History, culture, the trends. I thrive off her, it’s like the city’s got a pulse that matches my heartbeat.

Shibuya is amazing, we agree. Can you tell us why you chose your alias?

Albatross: There’s a lot of symbolism in the albatross. The bird can be a sign of good luck for sailors, historically. In the poem The Rime of the Ancient Mariner, though, one of the sailors kills an albatross, and thus it becomes a curse. He bears the burden as the other sailors hang the bird around his neck, reminding him of how he’s doomed them all. I’ll let fans keep speculating on why I picked it, though. I can’t give away all my secrets here.

[---]

And that’s the preview!!!

If you liked it, you can check out the pre-orders and enter in the giveaway here!!!! A digital copy is only $10!

#twewy #the world ends with you #subarashiki kono sekai #joshua kriyu #neku sakuraba #shiki misaki #eri (twewy)#imprint zine #egg speaks #egg writes #my writing #yoshiya kiryu #twewy zine #fanzine #zine

38 notes · View notes

rookiewriterkpop · 5 years

Text

lonely youth

CHAPTER 1

(GIFs not mine)

• uni au, • psycho au, •mafia au

summary: both youths, troublesome yet lonely. One is a unstoppable killer and the other one is a sweetheart with many surprises that unveil gradually, what could happen if a psycho killer learns about the surprises of Y/N?

“Jungkook baby remember mama loves you okay baby, no matter what..” (gunshot) “mama noo!!!”- onto that Jungkook woke up, once again drenched in sweat. 6:00am Another morning, another nightmare. Getting out of bed making his way to the window to stare at the souless city rise before his eyes. Jungkook is no ordinary 21 year old. He’s a made killer. A psycho. And he’ll gradually wipe out the entire Jeon Family for their sins but also for what they did to him. Sighing, he heads for shower and prepares himself for his third day at uni, of course not to study, but to follow a target he has his eyes on. The son of the Mafias member. What’s greater pain than seeing your loved one getting hurt. Nothing compares to it. Dressing in simple white T-shirt and black cargo pants, bucket hat with some 97s. Comfortable yet enough to settle in. Making his way to his second bedroom , a room full of weapons, gym equipment, mirrors, boxing corner and a checklist of his murders. he packs his backpack with a combat knife, seals. That’s all he needs to finish his job. And of course books for chemistry. When becoming a undergraduate jungkook made sure to sign up for chemistry, Jungkook thought it might aswel help him level up his killings. Don’t be fooled, killers are the most intelligent and smartert monsters out there and Jungkook is very smart when it comes to things he has passion for, especially when he applies the methods to his work. Maths, chemistry, physics, politics, all that he excels in.

Uni life is either something you enjoy or something you despise, regardless eventually you’ll get tired of it. And that’s why you decided to take photography and literature. Something about the arts and poetry just goes so well together for you.

...

Lunch time is here, meaning game on for Jungkook, with enough following around and enough information, he knows where his target should be by now. Who is nothing but a smug, rich and stuck up bastard. While waiting for the right opportunity, he finds himself leaning against a fence having a perfect view of every detail infront of him. Looking around he finds himself being surrounded by ordinary students, something he could’ve been if he had a normal life. Something Jungkook doesn’t know of. He envies those people, not because he lacks their qualities but for being stupid and blind. For not seeing the reality that’s around them. Jerks. Looking further ahead of him, he catches a glimpse of a student, a girl, with a camera on the balcony opposite him. Staring as she’s taking shots of her surroundings he thinks to himself how he too loves taking pictures, pictures of his victims covered in blood like an art, which he sends to the Jeon Mafia, forever staying anonymous. Lunch time is nearly over, leaving Jungkook only 20 minutes to finish his job, he finally notices target. He slowly packs up and begins to follow him through the outside corridors to the shed, as he is a supposed rugby player. Hah Jungkook laughs to himself as he knows this person will no longer see the next sunrise. As he slowly creeps behind him he allows the guy to enter first and after Jungkook slips in, locking the door. He takes a deep breath, “who the fuck are you dud-“ Jungkook front kicks the guy as he lands on the equipment. “Game on”

Hellooooo guys so finally I’m back after such a long hiatus, I just had too much going on and now I’m back and can finally focus on the fanfics and tumblr. It would mean the world to me if you could comment or message me and let me know what you think about this first chapter, if you enjoyed reading or naah, anyways love you boos.

#jungkook au #jk au #kpop au #mafia au #psycho au #kpop mafia au #kpop yandere au #kpop fanfiction #kpop fanfic #bts jungkook #kpop badboys

26 notes · View notes

najikat · 5 years

Text

Best birthday ever with the best realization.

So, I thought today would be crummy but it ended up being the best birthday ever. I got to talk and chill with the voice actor of Jet from Cowboy Bebop and get to meet Jaqen, The Faceless Man from Game of Thrones! The artist of the Goosebumps books got a good belly laugh when I ran over to him and called him the "Man responsible for my nightmares"! He was super awesome and took plenty of time talking to me about my future in art. I met an amazing crew of artists eager to show me the ropes of con-table running. One artist is so nice that she's donating me her extra con gear/setup!

I could have let a lot of things on this silly void of anonymity take away my joy today, but I ended up realizing people will always lie like insane, hurt you to see you bleed, and try to thieve away your goodness to make it look like their own. I probably give way too much care into things I shouldn't because I wear my heart on my sleeve and fret over anyone who "gets the wrong idea" about who I am and the morals I represent.

But honestly, I'm over it.

So, instead of perpetuating an endless cycle of bickering, I'm for once... Not going to respond. I prepared a massive word document the size of Kansas with a plethora of screenshots, rebuttals, and receipt slapping.

Then it dawned on me as I sat down to review it tonight. Why? What would I lose if I just move on and continue as I have been? A few really toxic people online screaming into the void "HAH! See! She has no proof and no response! She's HORRIBLE! This validates everything I say as truth! What I say must be true! See! See!"

... Uhm. OK. But I know it's not.

So, Should that really matter to me?

The healthy part of my brain is saying very tenderly "No, darling. It shouldn't.".

So what does this mean for me? Well, for one I regain control over my experience online and control over my mental health. I don't need to keep reliving abuse and continued toxicity. I don't need to keep worrying if I need to defend against more air-grabbing lies or people using me as a beating bag for others actions. My friends don't need to worry if I'm hurting and they don't need to see me slip back into a wreck of depression and handshaking anxiety. I won't be vulnerable to the damage these people cause because I won't care nor listen.

These people will always try to manipulate. They will always lie.

So, when does it stop for ME? I know it will never stop for them. Not ever. They create what they live in. What do I want to live in? Well, not like them that is for sure.

So, I'm going to do some self-care here. After 16 hours of isolation on the 19th fact checking, reliving a really horrible place and mental state, grammar correcting and obsessing over a "rebuttal" stronger than a strike from Thor’s Hammer... I'm deleting the entire thing.

Just. Like. That.

I know some people who don't know me won't believe that... and that's OK.

I know the truth and so do those that are important to me. Anyone else is just a bonus. My goal was already achieved of warning people last year and I will continue to do so as I see fit. I'm never online besides to post my art because life doing adult things offline is my priority and responsibility. I can't control anyone other than myself. I conduct myself with morals and integrity. I KNOW that.

If people who don't know me think otherwise...

Well, with all due respect... Fuck 'em.

In the end, I had an amazing birthday today. And that is all she wrote.

TO FRIENDS | FOLLOWERS:

I understand people will want to continue coming to me to let me know about the events taking place with ex-leaders/members of Dragons Crown and their known affiliates due to our history or to ask questions about the aforementioned. This isn’t actually helpful and isn’t contributing to my mental health or wellbeing, but instead constantly dredging up a painful aspect of history I’d rather not relive. There have been multiple instances of myself and others sharing their accounts, and posting logs/screenshots all across Tumblr. I am sure you can find them in my Archive as well. I ask that if more is posted or said regarding the whole situation and group (be it further reblogs or call-outs) that it not be brought to my attention no matter how important you might find it. Anons will be turned off, plugs like Tumblr Savior will continue to be utilized, and every step has been taken to keep it out of sight, out of mind. I’ll probably be reblogging this sub-section a few times over the course of the next week to ensure visibility. Thank you, and I love you all ♥

#bestbirthdayever

42 notes · View notes

radiqueer · 5 years

Note

Hey, I have question for you and that is have you ever made a post or know of one where a minor like you outlines the specifics of how we adults are supposed to interact with you (on Tumblr, for example)? I know, you'll probably be thinking: "Just don't be ageist/treat us as equals, duh!" but please hear me out, I'm asking this in good faith. One of my main problems is, for example, that - online culture being dominated by US culture and it's norms - that I will leave myself open to... tbc

Part 2: potentially life-destroying accusations of grooming/pedophilia not from you or other minors who want to interact in good faith, but from adult antis/minor antis who are not acting in good faith but want to get back at me, as soon as I say something they don’t like. I absolutely agree with you that such bad faith behaviour is NOT exclusive to minors but in the current climate - especially here - interacting with minors in fandom leaves one especially vulnerable. I would like to know tbc..

Part 3 (and I forgot sending the last one anonymously, please don’t publish my username) …whether you could accept/understand that some of us feel this need to protect ourselves. I want these conditions to change as much as you do, because I remember what it was like being in your position and I truly hated it, so I want very much to act differently towards minors now that I am an adult. But I really don’t know if I can for the above reason, which is not your fault of course but still… tbc

I have never made an entire post about it, no. I have, however, set clear guidelines in my faq and in interactions with adults on this website.

honestly? I don’t know. this isn’t how I set boundaries; most of my experience setting boundaries with adults is over discord DMs and moderated servers and I’m exceptionally good at self-moderation, thanks to the adult friends who taught me exactly how to regulate my interactions and modeled various forms of relationship boundaries for me

please note that I use “relationship” as a neutral word - it doesn’t signify anything romantic unless it explicitly talks about a romantic relationship.

the clearest and most objective set of guidelines I can give you is:

don’t violate DNIs. ever. this is a big one. if you violate a DNI in any way, and it’s always best to interpret DNIs generously, back off at once. block them, just to be safe. do not engage even if they engaged first. if they keep harassing you, block and report. it is not worth your skin, and manipulative antis can and will use your hesitance to block them out of hand as an indication that you are a predator. give them nothing to go on.

you do not have to read the blog links of every blogger you come across, but if they’re in their bio then it’s best to skim through them at least once.

for me, personally, I practice intelligent boundary setting, which is a really fancy way of saying “it depends.” if a friend I know and regularly speak to tells me that my fear fetish is showing on one of my posts, that’s different from like, you saying the same thing. which seems obvious, but you’ll be surprised at how many people think boundaries can be objective and set in stone.

take, for a lighter (hah) example, my eating disorder. [tw eating disorder and weight talk ahead] I have an ED, I don’t really try to hide it. one of my friends is more invested than the rest in making sure I eat more-or-less enough as regularly as possible. she does it because she struggled with food herself and because she knows I’m underweight, and she wants me to be okay. the problem is that there’s only so much advice I can take before I shut down entirely. so we have to navigate that in an intelligent manner - she checks in with me regularly, and in turn I tell her when she’s going too far or stepping too close to a line of conversation which ends in a shutdown. I also make sure to let her know when I need help, and to thank her for her help no matter how many times I get it, and in general I make an effort to be an equal participant in our conversations even when she’s helping me. but there’s other people in my life who I don’t allow to talk to me about food (they violate that boundary constantly, reinforcing my need for it) and that’s bad. so like, I can’t go “adults talking to me about food is Okay” or “adults talking to me about food is Not Okay” because that boundary can and has to be set and reset as the conditions around it change. [end ed tw]

or like, sex. sure, as a minor I can (hypothetically) go “don’t talk to me about sex” but……what is sex? is heavy petting not sex? can my adult friend - lets call them Brianna, she doesn’t exist I made her up for this example - can Brianna not talk to me about the cute guy she flirted with at her college mixer? is it different if Brianna and the cute guy most definitely did not make plans to fuck after the mixer? what is the difference? can Brianna recommend me a song which contains explicit lyrics? what about explicit themes? can Brianna and I talk about #metoo? can we talk about how she’s afraid to walk back her to her dorm room at night because the security guard on her street creeps her out? can Brianna read my explicit fic? can I read Brianna’s? can she recommend it to her friends who don’t know me?

this is an annoying amount of questions, isn’t it? now you get it. there’s a few more paragraphs where that came from.

the best way to tackle this is to answer each question as it comes. there’s no need to spend a month hammering out each detail. flag certain subjects - I ask my friends to warn me before showing me explicit images (of the sexual and violent variety) because that boundary is fluid. some of my friends can complain to me that they’ve been horny and some of them refuse to discuss sexuality with me outside of academic contexts because they’re wary of influencing me. and you know what? both of those are fine. both of those are good and normal and they can co-exist. you will never have the same set of boundaries for everybody in your life. that’s just impossible.

so focus on what you can do. learn to regulate your own boundaries, and know that the first step to teaching others how to set boundaries is to model your own. ask, “is talking about this okay?” when something sensitive comes up. learn to go “let me know if i ever say anything that makes you uncomfortable” - understand that in your bones, if you can. people telling you something makes them uncomfortable when it’d be easier to be silent is how you know you’ve built trust. it’s a compliment. when they let you know, back off and also go “I’m sorry”. maybe let them pick the next topic of conversation, or move onto something else.

on tumblr, like I said, don’t violate DNIs. read every link available to you if you plan of following that user. don’t reblog posts tagged #dont reblog. some people (like me) prefer to interact largely over anon, and some people have different needs. it isn’t your job to parse that. communication is a two-way street. try not to say creepy things (”is it something I would say to someone on the street? did they ask their followers to send them things like this?” no and no? don’t say it)

if you’re an adult with “minors dni” in your bio and you’re going to interact with minors off anon, that’s generally a rather bad move. some may take offense - some may not, but it’s a toss-up you don’t want.

let me know if this helps!

#anon #essays #communication

14 notes · View notes

orangeccreamsicles · 5 years

Text

Dirk: ==> update your BBF(best bro friend)

TT: It's so incredibly inconvenient that you're deleting. How am I supposed to tag you in horrible fashion choices and pro-arson-anti-establishment moodboards slash aesthetics? Actually send them to you, like some sort of mad man? How am I supposed to send you horrible anonymous messages meant to do nothing but make you question who the fuck has enough time on their hands to think of that shit? TT: And this? Body horror cw, but how can I possibly be sure you'll see this and understand it's for you? There's literally no possible way to be sure it'll reach you in any other form, even though I'm sending it to you directly right now. [TT] is sending the image(s) https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/526894347430527000/575448556949995543/SPOILER_tumblr_p4nd82yl6e1t5zyeuo1_1280.png ! TT: Actually, it's mostly just poor fashion choices and cat gifs that end up in your tag, but there's a good few aesthetic pieces sprinkled in for flavour. There's a neon "Cherry Bomb" sign in this funky ass font that's recent, if nothing else. An elaborate :ok_hand: prank, too.

CA: Sorry, bud. You knowv howv it is. CA:Actually, you don’t, because you’re still there. Tumblr sucks so much chute. Can’t stand it anymore. Plus, I’vwe been so busy vwith my actual life. CA: But you can alvways just spam random shit at me on here. Just like that! CA: That’s perfect. TT: Yeah, well, you know me. No life, and loving to suffer. That's the Strider aesthetic and brand. We're all about putting up with things for the sheer sake of it(slash spite) and literally nothing else. Surely you must have picked up on that just a little. CA: Hmm, maybe a little. CA: Howv you been? Sorry I havwen’t been around. [TT] is sending the link(s) https://orangeccreamsicles.tumblr.com/post/182819433708 https://orangeccreamsicles.tumblr.com/post/183585507085/daggers-drawn-audacityinblack ! TT: These two are also very important. What's your Tshirt size? TT: Not super fantastic, but you know. The world keeps turning, nobody's died yet. It's cool man, you've got irons in the fire, balls in the air, etc etc etc. CA: Uh, small. CA: Not super fantastic? You vwannaaaaaa. CA: Talk about that? TT: Hahah, twink. CA: Shut up. TT: Ehhhhhhhh. It's all boring interpersonal shit that I'm not sure is even resolved yet or not. I got magicked into a mermaid for a couple days a while ago, so that's something. TT: I'm not really. On speaking terms with Bo anymore, that's another one. CA: Oh. CA: Damn. I’m sorry, man. CA: VWhat happened?? TT: Did I ever mention that he and Sock are rails now? CA: VWhaaaaat. CA: You mentioned Sock has a moirail but I didn’t think it vwas him. CA: That’s. CA: VWeird. CA: I don’t see it. TT: I didn't either, LMAO! TT: But it happened, guess I wasn't really paying attention. Seemed like Bo'd been more distant for a bit but I thought that was my fault for not asking how he was doing or initiating shit more often. TT: Anyway. Turns out I'm a jealous piece of shit. I lashed out at Sock, said a lot of shit I very much regret, and now. TT: I'm pretty much positive Bo wants me dead. As in like, he's mentioned killing me. Which is a cool thing. Sock says he doesn't hate me flat out but the trust is gone. I have done an absolutely piss poor job of rekindling any kind of friendship there. CA: Tch. That guy. CA: Not gonna get into it. CA: I’m not gonna talk shit. Gonna be mature about this. TT: Hah. CA: I’m just really sorry. I knowv you liked him a lot. CA: Howv you liked him, I don’t knowv. But. TT: I liked him so much. TT: He was so straight up about shit. That's a problem I have for sure, everything's gotta be behind seventeen layers of irony, but he just said whatever without thinking. It got him in trouble a fair amount, maybe he tripped over his words, but he said it. And he was trying so hard to be good; to help his kids and his crew and himself, to recover from [redacted]. And he was nice. Not to everyone, I know, but TT: Hm. We are now over the line of things I can just let air out on their own. That particular train of thought is being halted at the station, please reschedule all flights. TT: It's cancellations and delays all across the board. CA: Mmhm. CA: No going back on it, huh. CA: Yeahh. It happens. CA: I knowv. It really sucks. CA: It sucks.. losing someone you really cared about. Like fucking up so bad you can nevwer evwer recovwer vwhat you had. CA: You knowv I knowv vwhat that’s like. TT: Ughhhhhhh. CA: I’m not good at making people feel better. CA: I’m a realist and I’m telling you like it is. TT: That's probably for the best. At least in this case. TT: He knows so much shit about me. I know a whole load about him. What do I do with it now? I can't just toss all that information aside. Does it mean anything? TT: I don't know how to word what I'm feeling. TT: I willingly gave him information about myself, which is something very few people including yourself get access to, and now that we're nothing, what is he going to do with it? I hate it when people know things about me but I let him and the reasoning is gone but he still knows. It's like he's got this chunk of me with him and vise versa that we can't give back and I don't know what the fuck to do with it now! Especially because I still like him, and I can see when he gets bad, but I can't do shit about it, even if he wanted me to. TT: And he sure as fuck doesn't want me to, because he wants me dead! TT: God, this is fucking gay. CA: I dunno vwhat to tell you. I really don’t. CA: The best you can hope for is. Uh.. CA: Somethingbadhappenstohimcausinghimtoforget. TT: Har har. CA: I vwish I vwas kidding. TT: I don't want anything bad to happen to him. TT: I want only good things to go his way and for him to be unbelievably, unabashedly happy because I'm fucking stupid and gay. TT: (Imagine me hitting my head on a desk and doing the verbal equivalent of a keysmash here.) CA: I’m imagining it. CA: I’m sorry, man.

#ooc #cherry8om8 #2cumlord m #wwickedspirits m #internalized homophobia #body horror #dudes being bros #guys being dudes #bros being gays #death m #feelings jams #ask to tag #hoping this works first try...

3 notes · View notes

ms-m-astrologer · 5 years

Text

I had the following anonymous ask...

new idea that I have just seen floating around: All astrologers are very calm, evolved, enlightened people who follow astrology as a spiritual discipline (like Buddhism) and are therefore more evolved and more spiritual and superior to the rest of us, and if you don't do that you are just 'someone who reads a natal chart'. I've never heard of this view of astrologers before. Thoughts?

...and I promised to address it when I was feeling better.

I had never heard of that, either. After some ponderation I suspect that it’s the latest Tumblr thing. The astrology community here occasionally seems to exist in its own separate universe, with little/nothing to do with either history, or the reality of the rest of the world. The whole idea of “dominants” for example, I see nowhere else but here.

It all sounds like a new way for some people - our theme of the week - to give themselves airs. “We are the enlightened cognoscenti - you are a mere grovelling worm.” I suppose we should pity their Miss Bingley-like presumption - or maybe their failure to learn that essential schoolyard lesson of, if you have to keep telling people how awesome you are, you really aren’t.

There’s an older book I strongly recommend - Positive Magic: Occult Self-Help, by Marion Weinstein - even though I disagree completely with her astrology chapter. The reason is that the book is so highly ethical. Much of what she wrote has to do with the grave error of ignoring other people’s free will, and manipulating them to do/be what you want them to do. In astrology, this translates into doing third party charts - a variation of which is, “How can I get someone with this placement to like me?” We ourselves never seem to want to change and grow; we want everything else to bend and contort, however.

I haven’t re read PM in a while (hah, one weekend project identified) - I don’t recall if she wrote about the responsibility of studying occult topics. It arises naturally from her stance against manipulation - if you mustn’t manipulate others for your own benefit, it stands to reason that you can’t act as an intermediary between one person wishing to manipulate another person. And, nowhere in any book or magazine I’ve ever read, or with any person I’ve every spoken with, has it ever been stated that “It’s okay to look down on other people.”

Maybe we should coin a phrase - hipster astrologers - people who investigate the subject primarily as a way to give themselves airs. Dilettantes, posers, frauds, mere dabblers. I suppose this can be construed as me looking down on them, when their only apparent faults are arrogance and vanity. But the damage that arrogance and vanity can do, to themselves as well as to others, makes me angry. I wish I had Oscar Wilde’s talent at skewering fake people.

(This isn’t exactly the Jeremiad I had envisioned, but I did have a slight cooling off period between my initial reaction, and actually getting the laptop out!)

7 notes · View notes

pixie-mage · 6 years

Text

#SamLives - Pt.11

[Previous|Next]

Also find the latest chapters of this story on [Archive Of Our Own]

[This story has been edited and reposted on the official #SamLives Tumblr. The new post of Chapter 11 can be found here.]

(There is a big difference between the phone calls in this version and the updated version of Chapter 11. This version features Signe; the updated version features Robin.)

Jack hadn’t been lying when he’d said that he and Mark were planning on doing some collabs. In the few days that followed the initial video, they recorded a good nine or ten videos worth of content each, most of it consisting of two-player games. (Being able to record one session for two channels had its perks.) Jack still hadn’t gotten over his wariness of technology in that time. He had to steel his nerves before starting every session, had to take a breath before hitting ‘record’. He found himself frequently checking his facecam on the monitor to make sure nobody was in the background, and every flicker, every stutter, every lag in whatever game he was playing made his hands tense and his breath hitch.

Today was no different. After spending a good five minutes mentally convincing himself that his computer mouse wasn’t about to come to life and strangle him, he and Mark dove head-first into a new game of “Sea of Thieves”. It was just the two of them this time, with no time to schedule a play time with Bob or Wade or Ethan. At the moment, Jack was trying to fend off skeletal attackers while his friend dug up the buried treasure.

“Shit! Fuck! Fuckin’ bastards!” He took another swipe at the nearest skeleton, cutting it down. Another attacker was quick to take its place. “Hah! That’ll teach ye not to mess wit’ ol’ Jackaboy.”

He pulled out a blunderbuss and took two shots straight through the newcomer’s chest.

“DIE BITCHES! How’s that chest comin’, Markerino?”

Mark, who Jack now realized had been oddly quiet the past few minutes, let out only a distracted hum in response. Jack turned his avatar to look at Mark’s rather voluptuous character, only to find him standing still over the half-buried treasure chest. Jack chuckled, a little bewildered.

“Mark? Th’ fuck are you doin’?” he took a shot at another skeleton. “Are ye just waiting for it to unbury itself or–”

Thwack!

The familiar-yet-unexpected sound made Jack jump, his heart pounding in his chest as he whipped his head around to stare at Mark. The other YouTuber had turned his seat away from the desk, NERF gun in hand, aiming at the closed door with narrowed, focussed eyes.

What the fucking–

Jack swallowed thickly and took a slow breath, his panic ebbing away to make room for amused irritation. He swiped a small crocheted Sam from his desk and chucked it at the side of Mark’s head.

“Hey! What–?!”

“Don’t fuckin’ scare me like that, shithead!” Jack shoved Mark’s shoulder playfully. “What th’ hell was that for?”

“Target practice.”

Mark’s grin was cheeky and a little mocking.

Jack blinked at him, slowly, fixing him with a look that clearly said ‘Are you fucking kidding me right now?’ He snatched the NERF gun from Mark’s hand with a barely-restrained chuckle and brandished it in the other’s face. Mark took a swipe at it, pouting and trying to take back his toy.

“Hey!”

It turned into a game of Keep Away, with Jack holding the NERF gun high above his head and Mark practically falling out of his chair and climbing over Jack in his attempt to reach it.

“I’ll use you fer target practice if you don’t–”

“Jack! Give that back, you asshole!"

“–get your head back in the game!” Jack suddenly whipped the NERF gun back at Mark, who fumbled to catch it. “I’m dyin’ here!”

Mark clutched the gun tightly to his chest and retreated to the safety of his seat, pouting and hugging the toy as though Jack might attempt to steal it from him again. He stuck his tongue out childishly before turning back to his screen - and he stifled a laugh.

“Uh…” He carefully set his precious plastic weapon on the desk, out of Jack’s reach. “Not to alarm you, but I think we’re already dead.”

Jack’s focus snapped to his own screen, and sure enough, both he and Mark were now standing on the deck of a ghost ship, waiting their turn to return to the land of the living. He threw his hands in the air and flopped backwards in his chair.

“Fuckin’ DAMMIT all!” He sank in his seat with a groan, Mark’s deep giggles permeating the air around them both. “I blame you entirely for that.”

“Yeah...heh...yeah, that’s...that’s on me. Sorry, man…” Mark still hadn’t stopped giggling, his mood far too bright to be dimmed by a death in the game.

“I’m makin’ sure everyone knows it’s your fault,” Jack bemoaned from his slouched position. “I’m gonna make you buy me a fancy-ass tombstone, an’ put one o’ those shitty rhyming couplets on it…”

He held his hands out in front of him, pretending to frame the words.

“Here lies Jack Just blame his friend Whose NERF dart brought Their bitter end.”

Mark’s only response was a slow golf clap while he pretended to be tearing up.

“Beautiful,” he told Jack, voice laced with false emotion. “Absolutely beautiful. You should’ve become a poet instead of a YouTuber. Clearly you were meant for greater things than video game commentary.”

Jack almost fell out of his chair in his attempt to chuck another Sam plush at Mark’s head.

“D’you think that cop really believed that nothing was wrong?” Jack asked Mark with a mutter later that evening.

Mark had already sent the day’s raw videos from both him and Jack to Robin, and Robin was planning on doing a little bit of content cutting before passing them along to Kathryn. There were certain things that had to be cut out from their recordings that really, really didn’t need to be shared with anyone beyond their immediate group. Not yet.

“The guy from the other day?” Mark asked, looking up from his phone. “I dunno. I mean I don’t think he believed all the anonymous tips, anyway. He was trying not to crack a smile the whole time he was explaining stuff to us.”

Apparently, some of Jack’s fans had taken Anti’s appearance on the stream at face value. They had believed (rightfully so) that it was real, and when Jack went silent on all forms of social media for more than twenty-four hours after it had happened, people had started to panic. While nobody knew for sure where Jack and Signe lived, the local police station in Brighton had gotten call after call after call from concerned teens and young adults who all claimed that a YouTuber named Sean McLoughlin had almost been killed on a livestream. If it hadn’t been for the sheer number of phone calls and the video proof that looked almost too real to have been edited, Jack was sure the police would have ignored it.

But two days ago - three days after the stream itself - a police officer had come knocking on the apartment door asking if a Sean McLoughlin or a Jacksepticeye lived there.

After explaining - through stifled grinning and amused chuckles - that a lot of fans thought he had been hurt, Mark and Jack had tried to awkwardly laugh it off and explain that, no, it was just a video, and nobody had actually gotten hurt.

(Jack was wearing makeup on his neck again for recording, thank god, otherwise the bruises might have brought on some unwanted questions. As it was...)

“I dunno man.” Jack sighed deeply and scrubbed his hands over his face, sinking back on the couch. “I swear he kept lookin’ at my neck. I’m sure he watched the video for th’ sake of the calls. Probably checkin’ to see if I really got strangled.”

“Ah, quit worrying. I’m sure it’ll be fine.” Mark scrolled through Twitter again, reading a few more tweets before, “...and we’re sure we don’t want to get the police involved?”

Jack leveled him with a blank stare.

“Do you honestly think the police are gonna know how to deal wit’ a computer virus of a demon that came to life from my YouTube channel? I mean WE barely know what we’re doing and we’re fully invested in the lore of it all!”

Mark stifled a laugh.

“Okay, yeah good point,” he admitted. He shook his head, eyes falling back to his phone gain. “Fully invested in the lore...god, we sound like we’re trying to solve Five Nights At Freddy’s conspiracies. That’s how complicated this whole mess has become. Frankly, if anyone overheard what we were talking about in the cafe that first day I showed up, they’d probably think–”

Jack jolted upright in his seat, eyes wide and expression one of stunned realization.

“Holy shit.” He grabbed Mark’s arm and shook him a little, his movements suddenly intense and a brilliant grin splitting his face in two. “Holy shit!”

“Holy shit what?” Mark gripped his phone a little tighter so it wouldn’t go flying out of his hands from Jack’s enthusiasm.

“Mark, you’re a fuckin’ genius!”

“Well - I mean, yeah, I thought we established that, but what the hell did I say?!”

Mark was rightfully very bewildered by his friend’s sudden change of mood. He gave Jack a quick once-over with his eyebrows raised, wondering if he should be concerned.

“Five Nights at Freddy’s!” Jack exclaimed. He looked far too excited and far too proud of himself for his own good.

“...Five Nights at–”

“Dude! Don’t you get it?” Jack leapt up off the couch, pacing, and Sam - who had been dozing in Jack’s hoodie pocket - poked his ‘face’ out with a sleepy blink, wondering what all the commotion was about. “This whole thing is too fuckin’ complicated right now, right? We don’t know what exactly Anti is, or how to stop him from comin’ back. He’s solid but he’s not. He’s made of glitches but - who the hell even knows what that means.”

“Okay…?” Mark just watched the Irishman pace the room, his phone long forgotten in his lap. “Where are you going with this?”

“Anti doesn’t make sense!” Jack was grinning like an idiot. He stopped in his tracks to turn and face Mark. “We know why he’s here but that only gets us so far! We need somebody who’s used to picking apart ridiculous bullshit to find the real answers, somebody who already kinda knows what’s going on.”

“Jack, you’ve lost me,” Mark said flatly. “Who are you talking about, Signe? Amy?”

“No!” Jack was talking with his hands, talking with his entire body, like he couldn’t contain all the energy that had built up inside him. “Five Nights at Freddy’s. Crazy timeline. Bullshit lore. There’s only one person I know who was able to tear that shit to pieces and make sense out of it.”

And then it hit Mark like a load of bricks, and he was on his feet too, his exclamation coming out as a loud and incredulous question in the same moment that Jack was busting out the same words.

“MatPat?!”

“MatPat!”

“Waitwaitwait, hold on–” Mark was trying to sort out his thoughts, pinching the bridge of his nose while he watched Jack rush around in a frantic search for his cell phone. Mark didn’t have it right now and Jack couldn’t quite remember where it had ended up. “What the hell do you mean Matt already knows what’s going on?”

“Well, okay, he doesn’t know about Anti,” Jack admitted, his ass in the air while he leaned over the armchair in the corner to see if his phone was plugged in back there. “He knows about Sam though.”

“He knows about Sam?!” Mark’s jaw dropped.

At this point, Sam had abandoned Jack’s pocket to hover a few steps behind the Irishman, watching him with quiet curiosity. At Mark’s question, Sam let out a happy little squeak and nodded, twirling through the air a little.

“Did you tell him before you told me?” Before Jack could even answer, Mark had continued: “But he posted a video like two weeks ago about how Sam couldn’t possibly exist!”

“Well, duh, he posted that because he knows about Sam,” Jack rolled his eyes and shoved away from the armchair, detouring to the kitchen. He spoke up to be heard across the apartment. “He was tryin’ to throw people off. And I didn’t tell him about Sam.” Jack returned to the living room, cell phone in hand and a sheepish smile on his face. “He...er...kinda found out on his own.”

“How?”

“Tacos and Rachel Ray.”

Mark didn’t know how to respond to that.

“I have no idea how to respond to that.”

“Look…” Jack huffed and came back over to Mark, sitting on the edge of the coffee table while his friend sank slowly back onto the couch. Sam settled onto his shoulder and nuzzled up against Jack’s cheek with a quiet purr. “Sam was sick, so I brought him with me for the taco-making contest. Matt was on my team. He bumped into me, I tripped, Sam almost fell out of my hood, and Matt saw him.”

“And he didn’t freak out?”

Jack’s lips twitched into a wry smile and he looked up from his phone.

“Oh, he freaked out, but not until later.”

“Let me get this straight.” Mark watched Jack carefully as he spoke. Jack nodded and went back to shakily tapping out a message to Matt. “Just so we’re both on the same page. Sam exists, clearly. Anti exists. You, me, Signe, Robin, and Matt know about Sam. You, me, and Robin know about Anti.”

“And Signe, sort of.”

“And Signe,” Mark agreed. “And Amy too, come to think of it. Is there anybody else who knows anything else, just in case we need to recruit people for a battle of the digital age?”

“Nope, nobody else,” Jack shook his head. He paused and looked thoughtful, setting his phone aside (looking relieved to get the thing out of his hands) and tapping his chin. “...though I probably should bring up that Anti mentioned being late for a date or something last time? What was the name...something...something Warfstache…?”

Mark looked like he might explode

“WHAT?!”

“Oh my god!” Jack cackled, doubling over with laughter and trying not to slip off the edge of the coffee table he was sitting on. “Oh my fucking god your face! That was PRICELESS! You fuckin’ - Haha! - f-fuckin’ believed–” He could barely breathe he was laughing so hard, his laughter sounding a little wheezy.

Mark groaned and flopped backward across the couch, a low, pained chuckled escaping him.

”Oh, you absolutely piece of shit. Fuck you.”

“Y-Yeah, I - heh - I probably...haha...deserve that one…” Jack was grinning, wiping tears from his eyes.

Sam had bounced over to Mark to make sure he was okay and was now nestled on the American’s chest, Tim’s curious little eyes watching from the arm of the couch not even a foot away. The little box tumbled forward and landed right next to Mark’s head, patting his cheek softly in what Jack assumed was a comforting motion. Another low, rumbling laugh bubbled up from Mark’s chest.

“But no, to answer your question,” Jack continued once he could breathe again. “I think that’s everyone.”

“Good. Great. Excellent.”

Mark was absolutely done. Just...done.

“Ah, lighten up, Markimoo,” Jack snickered. “Consider it payback fer that NERF scare.”

“Considering that you were implying that Warfstache is alive too, and that he and your evil twin are getting it on–”

“Hey! I only said they went on a date!”

“–I’d say we’re far from even right now.”

“Oh, fuck off! That’s totally even!”

“And what if I tricked you into thinking your Dr. Schneep guy was alive and I caught him flirting with Dr. Iplier?”

“Oh, dude, no,” Jack groaned, laughing through it. “Nooo...I mean, yeah, Henrik totally would. He’d flirt with anything that moved. But hell no.”

“See my point?”

The living room was silent for a long moment, save for the little questioning squeaks Sam was making from his position on Mark’s chest. Then Mark heard the buzzing clatter of plastic against the coffee table. Jack’s phone was ringing, but on silent. Mark cracked open one eye to glance at Jack, who suddenly looked a lot more tense than he had a moment before.

“...you good, Jack?” he murmured, watching the other YouTuber. Jack nodded stiffly, looking a little pale. “Is it MatPat? He calling back already?”

Jack swallowed thickly.

“It’s...Signe.”

“Answer it,” Mark encouraged him evenly. “Go ahead. We’re all in the room with you, it’ll be fine.”

Jack nodded, the motion a little jerky, and he reached over to press the ‘Answer’ button. He quickly put it on speaker and withdrew his hand as though he’d been burned. The phone stayed sitting on the table.

“Sean?”

“Hey Signe,” Jack murmured.

Mark could see some of the tension melt out of the Irishman’s shoulders when he heard her voice, saw the way his lips quirked into a smile at the corners and the way his eyes softened in the moment.

“Hi! I just wanted to check in,” Signe continued, a smile in her voice. “How’s everything going? How’s Sam?”

“Sam’s great!” Jack’s grin became more genuine, and he giggled when Sam bounced over to sit beside the phone. He was wiggling on the spot in excitement. “He and Tim are gettin’ along famously. He’s been so damn happy, Wiish, I can’t wait for you to see ‘em together.”

“You can thank me later,” Mark chimed in with a smirk.

“Is that Mark?” Signe asked. “Am I on speaker?”

“Oh! Yeah, you are. Sorry. Shoulda said.” Jack chuckled softly.

“No, it’s fine!” Signe giggled, the sound melodic even through a phone speaker. “Hi Mark!”

“Hi Signe!”

“How are you doing though, Sean?” Signe’s tone had turned concerned, softer than before. “You still haven’t told me what’s going on with the whole Antisepticeye thing.”

Jack stiffened. He could feel Mark’s eyes on him, his look a knowing one. It had been five whole days since he’d talked to Signe at the cafe, and while they had texted back and forth every day since (in very brief interludes, as there were still moments Jack couldn’t even look at his own TV for fear of Anti jumping out of the dimmed pixels, let alone carry his phone in his pocket all day), not once had Jack brought up the livestream. Any time she asked about it he evaded her questions and promised to explain soon and made her promise to please don’t watch the livestream, I’ll tell you when you get home, please wait until then. So far, Signe had done as he’d asked, but he could tell she was growing concerned.

“Eh…” Jack cleared his throat and shrugged, though she couldn’t see it. “I’m fine. A little worn out, but Mark an’ I have been really goin’ hard, knockin’ out tons of videos now so we can get some free time to hang out later…”

“Sean.”

And there it was, the gentle scolding of her Mama Signe voice. How she managed to make Jack feel like a misbehaving child every time she used it was a mystery to him...but it worked. Every damn time. He sighed and let out a quiet groan.

“I’ll tell you soon, I promise,” he whimpered. “I promise I will, it’s - it’s just - I can’t–” He dragged a hand through his hair, and his gaze landed on Mark. The other YouTuber had sat up in the past few minutes and was leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees, his expression a searching one. He quirked an eyebrow at the Irishman.

“One second, Wiishu,” he said softly, reaching over to tap the ‘mute’ button on Jack’s phone. He watched his friend for a long moment before speaking. “Jack...I’m not gonna push you to tell her, but - oh my god, man. It’s almost been a whole week. The longer you wait, the more likely it’ll be for her to figure it out on her own. She already told you yesterday, people have been sending her tons of tweets and tumblr messages asking about you. Didn’t she ask you why they wanted know if you’re dead or not?”

Jack nodded stiffly, wincing.

“I told you I’d help you tell her the truth.” Mark smiled reassuringly. “I meant that, okay? And - hell, I can get Amy on the line, and we can have a big ol’ Double Date Egos Theory Skype Call.”

Jack snorted out a nervous laugh, shaking his head in amusement. Double date…

“Only you would see it as a date opportunity, Mark.”

“What can I say?” Mark grinned cheekily and winked. “I’m a hopeless romantic.” His grin faded back to a soft, understanding smile and he tried to catch Jack’s eye. “Waddaya say? You up for it?”

“...I eh…” Jack stared at his hands, his fingers fiddling with the hem of his sweatshirt while he thought.

Was he ready to tell Signe yet? Would she even believe him? Would she freak out, or take it all in stride? He didn’t want to worry her and didn’t want to put her in danger. He had known that, once she was home, he would have no choice but to tell her - so that had been his plan. To tell her when she got home, and let her enjoy her time with her family free of any of Jack’s current stresses. Once she was back in Brighton they could clear the air and talk about how to move forward.

But Mark was right too. The longer he waited, the worse it could get.

Jack sighed heavily. His hand was shaking when he reached for his phone, but he still pressed the ‘mute’ button to let Signe hear them again.

“Hey Wiish,” he mumbled, to let her know he was back. “You there?”

“Still here, Sean.” The usual sweet lilt was in her voice, her tone smiling and her words kind.

It helped Jack with what he knew he had to do next.

“I...eh. D’you mind waitin’ a few minutes?” he asked, wringing his hands in his lap. “Mark’s gonna get Amy on a Skype call wit’ us, an’ we can all talk face-to-face, and I’ll...I’ll fill you in on what’s been, er, happenin’ in my part of the world.”

“Really?” Signe asked, sounding surprised. “You’re actually going to tell me this time?”

“I - yeah. Yeah, I am.” Jack took a breath. His nervousness was clear with every word that left his mouth. “I’ll tell you everything.”

“Wait!”

Mark’s outburst made Jack jump and his head shot up.

“What–”

“My smoothie! I totally forgot my smoothie!”

Jack stared, and he heard Signe giggling on the other end of the call.

“Your smoothie,” he repeated, his lips twitching into some semblance of a smile. “You mean the one from after dinner? From, like, two hours ago?”

“Yes, from after dinner!” Mark rocketed off the couch, skirting the coffee table and grabbing his rental car keys as he went to the door. “It’s still in the car. This is super serious.”

“Super serious?” Jack repeated. He watched Tim bounce off the couch and hop curiously around the room in pursuit of Mark, doing his best to keep up. “More serious than Serious Shit?”

“YES! MORE SERIOUS THAN THAT!” Mark, who almost stepped on Tim in his haste to get to the door, let out a rather undignified squeak and immediately crouched to the ground beside the tiny box. “Oh, I'm so sorry! Are you okay? Did I hurt you? C’mere, my little biscuit, let’s get you off the floor. I would neeeever want you to get hurt, I would neeeever step on you…”

“Oh my god, Mark, you’re such a mom.”

“What? It’s not like you’re not the same way with Sam!”

At this, Jack chucked a pillow from the couch across the room, hitting Mark in the legs to avoid hitting Tim.

“Go get your fuckin’ smoothie!”

“Fine! I will!”

Mark flipped him off and pretended to storm out of the apartment, putting Tim on his shoulder and “slamming” the door shut (only to stop it at the last second to close it with a quiet click.) Jack shook his head with a smile. Only Mark.

“Hey...Sean?”

“Hm?” Jack returned his attention to his phone, still sitting beside him on the coffee table. “What’s up?”

“I wanted to ask...you said Anti is real, right?”

“Yeah…” His answer was a tense one, his hands coming up to fiddle with the strings of his hoodie.

“Did…” Signe’s voice trailed off, and there was static in the speaker, like she had taken a breath. “Did he hurt you, on the stream?”

Jack swallowed thickly. He was suddenly very aware of the sore bruises on his throat, and he felt rather than saw Sam land lightly on his shoulder.

“What...eh…” He cleared his throat, and Sam nuzzled up against his jaw, little waves of reassurance and worry filtering into the back of his mind. “...w-what makes ye ask that?”

“I told you I was getting messages and asks,” she told him. He could hear footsteps in the background, movement. Like she was pacing. “And I turned them off for now, because I was going to wait until you told me what was going on. And I know you’re going to! But...I’ve been tagged in a few things too. I saw some gifs of you and Anti–”

Jack closed his eyes, his jaw clenching tightly. Oh. Hands shaking, Jack picked his phone up off the coffee table and took the call off speaker, holding the mobile to his ear and getting to his feet.

“Holdin’ me up against the...eh...th’ wall?” he asked hoarsely. His movements were stiff, his footing a little unsteady as he crossed the room to pick up the pillow he’d thrown at Mark. He squeezed the edge of it tightly in his hand, lingering there by the door.

“...yeah.” Signe took another deep breath on the other end of the line, and when she spoke again her voice was shaking. “He – Sean, he was hurting you. That...th-that was real, wasn’t it? It wasn’t Robin’s editing?”

Jack’s chest felt tight, his throat constricting from both the memory and his own emotions. He took a shaking breath and dropped the pillow into the armchair closest to him, his free hand coming up to rest against his opposite shoulder. By Sam. Sam’s tail trailed down and brushed against his fingers, helping to soothe some of the uneasiness that had begun to build inside him.

“N-No, that...that was. Um.” Real. It was real. He blinked rapidly and his grip tightened on his phone. “It really happened.”

Signe gasped sharply from the other end of the line.

“Oh, god, Sean–”

But whatever Signe had been about to say, Jack never found out, because the call was suddenly filled with static and audio distortion, Signe’s words lost in a mass of broken sound that had Jack freezing where he stood.

“...Signe?” he whispered, eyes widening. “Signe...Wiish...I need to go. Okay? I can’t...I can’t hear you, but I th-think–”

The call dropped before Jack even hit the end button, the cell phone slipping from his hand and tumbling to the floor with a quiet thump against the carpet.

There was a static in the air, a crackle, an energy to it that made the hair on the back of Jack's neck stand on end. His breath hitched. The hand that still lingered near his shoulder tensed, and he could feel Sam curl closer to his neck.

"I'm not the only one feelin' that, yeah?" Jack breathed, his eyes darting around his apartment and landing on nothing. He took an involuntary step back toward the door.

"Nuh-uh. I feel it too..." Sam's worried voice floated across the back of his mind. Jack nodded. Alright. So he wasn't crazy.

A lamp across the room sparked and popped, the bulb blowing out suddenly, and even as small of an occurrence as that was it made Jack jump. The room was plunged into darkness. Wide blue eyes latched onto the deadened lamp. "W-What the hell is going on...?" His voice sounded strained, even to his own ears.

But the question he asked was one he was almost certain he knew the answer to. This static, this...tension. Electricity. He knew this feeling. It was one he was far too familiar with, one that he had experienced before.

Anti.

The room had felt much the same as this when Anti had appeared during his stream last time, when he had pinned Jack to the wall by his throat and toyed with him in front of an audience, had left him scared and shaking in a way he never expected he'd have to feel in his life. Until then he hadn't been sure if Anti was real. But now? Now there was no denying it. So the feeling in the air, the tension, the spark? It flooded him with a very real and tangible fear that wasn't without reason.

"Ďid̎ ÿo̊u m̰i͋šs̶ m̰ē?"

A voice, so close, a cold breath against his ear. Jack cried out and flung himself away from the sound, knees hitting carpet as he hurried away from his own front door now, scrambled across the living room with desperate movements, one hand clamped over Sam so he wouldn’t lose him. There, by the door, his smile just as sharp and as wicked as Jack remembered, was the glitch himself. His image crackled and distorted for a moment - Jack could see the pixels separating as he stood there - and a moment later he had flickered forward, appearing a few steps closer.

Shit...shit, shit, shit...he had half a mind to scream, to call for Mark, but at this point Mark had probably already made it down to his car and wouldn't hear anything. All he could hope for now was that he could stall long enough for his friend to make it back inside. Two on one were better odds in this situation.

"I̥ d̠on̪'t e͊v͐enͥ g̴ét a h̒e͊llo̖, J̠åc̮k̾a͈b͗ö́y?"

“Go away!”

Jack’s eyes widened and he went stiff, panic doubling. Sam had wriggled free from his spot on Jack’s shoulder and he was hovering in mid-air between the two men in the room, planting himself boldly before Anti as though he was planning on defending Jack himself.

“Sam, don’t–”

“Leave him alone, you meanie!” Sam sounded so brave, so determined, so…so angry for such a small little being. “You hurt Jack, and you made him sad, and - and–” Sam wriggled in the air and tried to make himself look intimidating. “–and I’m not gonna let you hurt him again!”

Contrary to what Jack was sure Sam had wanted, Anti didn’t look scared at all. In fact, he smiled...a gleeful smile that had Jack dreading whatever was about to happen.

“W̠e͆ll, a̒re̮n't y͞oṳ a̸ b̸ra̢v̜e lĭt͉tle t̹oa̤s̈t̤èr̔?” Anti crooned, his head tilting far to the side in a way that was eerily non-human. He held out a hand, palm-up, and the air above it distorted and warped impossibly. A worn, dark jewelry box appeared there in a flurry of pixels, its lid popped open to reveal the empty space within. “Sȯr̬r̗y t̸o b̓ur̢s̈ţ ŷou̬r͊ b᷆u̫b᷇b̍l͑ě, S̕a̺m̮my̳, b̝u᷈t...yo̔u'rē no̸t̹ ne͑e̓d̐ed f̔o͍r̈ toñḯgh̠t̡'s ća̧s̱t̎ o̱f͗ c̟har̐a͐ct̊e͓r̊s͊.”

Quicker than Jack could react, Anti glitched, vanished, and reappeared inches from Sam with the jewelry box held out before him. With one swooping motion, Anti had flicked Sam into the box, snapped the lid shut, locked it with a key and tossed the box over his shoulder to land neatly on the armchair in the corner.

“NO!” Jack sprang forward without thinking, arm outstretched as though to reach the box–

“D̹ǐd̵ I̽ s͌a̝y y̪o͚u͘ c̡o̾u͎l̦d͗ m̐o͋v̫e͕?”

Before Jack could register the giggling words, he found himself tripping head-over-heels, colliding soundly with the front of the cabinet his television rested on. A jolt of pain pulsed through his shoulder and he cried out, biting his lip, biting his tongue. Desperate fingers clutched at his aching shoulder and he gritted his teeth.

“What the fuck do you want?!” he bit out, panting and tense as he watched Anti slowly stalk toward him across the room. “You here to...to k-kill me? Hurt me? S...Strangle me again?”

“Wh͔a̠ţ d᷁ō ÿ́o̊u̖ t͔ak̓e m̉e̥ f̓or̓, a᷇ s᷀a͂di͉s͟t͊?” Anti scoffed incredulously.

Jack blinked at him, a sassy retort on his lips before he could stop himself.

“What, you - ngh - aren’t one? Could’ve f-fooled me...”

“I'̗m̺ m̛or̬e̍ ǫf a m̭a͒s᷅ochi͙s̜t̕,̘ r͖ea̪l͟l̓y,͏” Anti shrugged. Jack was surprised that Anti had even bothered to answer the question at all. “Bu͂t̢ bo͑t͐h̬ a᷊r̛e͞ p̭r̂ett͒y̎ a͘c̬c᷅u͑ra̻t̎e̍.”

Great. Good to know. Wonderful.

“N̚o̫, i͓t̋'s no͙t̘h̺i̝n᷆g s͕o̻ s͑i̔m͕pl̖e̍ as a̖l̥l̆ t᷁h̄a̓t,” Anti smirked, waving the thought away with one hand.

The air around his palm distorted and glitched, and a shining blade appeared in his hand on the way down.

Oh, fuck.

Anti was a few steps away now, and Jack scrambled backward across the floor, trying to get as much distance between himself and the glitch as possible...but he was cornered, pinned between the side of the TV cabinet and the wall, blocked in with no way out. It was starting to become a struggle to keep his breathing steady, his heart hammering away a tarantella against his ribs, his throat coarse and tight from tension.

The burst bulb from earlier had thrown the room into near-darkness, but what moonlight was coming through the living room window reflected off the sharpened blade in Anti’s hand, the light bouncing off into Jack’s eyes as the glitch knelt in front of him - close, too close - his eyes beginning to swirl with an inky blackness that Jack never wanted to see this close again.

Jack kept his eyes fixed on the blade, wide as saucers, and his breath hitched when he saw it inching closer and closer to his face. The touch of cool metal against his cheek made him tense and he clenched his jaw with a gulp. It wasn’t sharp. It wasn’t painful. Anti was dragging the flat side of the knife along his jawline, and Jack could hear the sound of its edge scraping against the coarse facial hair there.

“No̫…” Anti shook his head, and the sharp grin widened wickedly, appearing to split his face in two. “No, I ẖa͗v̶e m̪ůch...͛mùch᷆ b᷆i͈g͗g᷄er p̓lan̶s᷉ foͥr᷆ yõu͕, Jaͅc̻k.”

Mark was humming to himself as he made his way down to the rental car, the keys jingling in his hand. Tim sat perched on his shoulder, one tiny hand clutching the collar of Mark’s shirt, and he was trying to hum along to whatever song Mark had stuck in his head right now.

It wasn’t his fault Katy Perry’s music was so catchy.

By the time he unlocked and opened the driver’s side door, he was well into the chorus, mumbling the words in an undertone to himself and for Tim’s entertainment.

“California girls, we're undeniable! Fine, fresh, fierce, we got it on lock~” Tim was giggling, and the sound brought a warm smile to Mark’s face. He shifted into the driver’s seat so he could reach his smoothie easier, but not before belting out the next few lyrics at the top of his lungs.

“West coast represent, now put your hands up!”

He did so, dancing in his seat, grinning and playing it up for his little biscuit’s benefit.

“Ooh, oh, ooh! Ooh…”

Something flickered in the corner of his eye, something red...or was it blue?...and he trailed off, a crease forming in his brow. Tim was still giggling softly. Had he been seeing things? With a soft chuckle, he reached over and plucked his half-finished smoothie from the cupholder, still somewhat chilled from the cool weather of the evening.

Yeah, it was probably nothing. The whole Antisepticeye thing had been keeping him on edge since he’d arrived here in England. He pushed himself out of his seat and shut the door behind him. But when he turned to head back inside, something in the reflection in the car’s window caught his attention.

Mark dropped his smoothie.

A quiet thumping rose up across the living room, a rattling that caught Jack’s attention as well as Anti’s.

Sam. Sam was trying to get out.

Anti looked away from his victim for a moment, only for a moment, some space coming between Jack’s cheek and the metal of Anti’s blade.

A moment was all he needed.

Jack lashed out with a fist and a knee, landing a punch square across the glitch’s face and driving a knee up into his gut. Anti tumbled away from him, distorting and flickering, a static-fused snarl of pain and annoyance bubbling up from his prone form. Jack shoved himself to his feet, leaping over Anti and heading for the front door. He had to get out, had to leave, had to get Sam and go–

“I d͓O̬n͈’Ṭ t̉H͠iN̼ḱ sͅO͊!”

Static, feedback, a crackle in the air, and Anti was in front of him again, seething with fury, blocking his exit. Jack was running on pure adrenaline now, veering left and heading down the hall toward the bedrooms. The bathroom. Recording room. Anything.

“y̜O̰u̯’̒R̡e̿ N̈o̽T͔ g̓O̩i᷈N̸g̽ Ản̉Y͋w̳H̤e̦R̸ë́!̉”

There he was again, cutting him off, keeping him trapped in the same room. Shit...fuck…

Mark. Mark was downstairs. He just - he needed to stall, to wait it out until Mark came back with his stupid smoothie. He could make it that long.

Jack did a one-eighty and darted back down the hallway, the rug slipping beneath his feet and making him stumble. He caught himself on the wall and kept going, kept dodging. He could do this. Distract him. Hold him off. Something. Anything.

Green.

...green?

Something green, in the corner of his eye. Green and orange.

Jack risked turning his head, risked a glance, and he caught sight of the NERF gun - Chase’s NERF gun - sitting on the kitchen table. Mark had been playing with the damned thing for days, and for the first time since it had resurfaced Jack was unendingly grateful that Mark had found it again. He made a detour through the kitchen, snatching it up and shoving the ziplock of foam discs into his hoodie pocket.

Disc. Pull back. Load. Click. Wait for it. Be ready.

Jack circled his way back into the living room, Anti’s laughter echoing through the apartment, and he dove behind the coffee table with his plastic weaponed primed. He was ready.

He was terrified.

Jack would be an idiot if he pretended that this entire situation wasn’t scaring him within an inch of his life. He knew - he was trying not to think - that he could die at any second tonight, and that the pixelated parasite hunting him down in his own apartment was far too strong of an opponent for him to handle, with or without Sam. With Mark, maybe he had a chance, but even those odds were slim. If he didn’t die tonight, or if he didn’t at least get stabbed, he was going to drink until morning then invite every single one of his friends over to England to have the party of a fucking lifetime.

“O͗h͢,᷄ Jȁa͚a̕a̓a̻c̈́k̘~” Anti’s distorted, chilling voice echoed through the room and sent a shiver down Jack’s spine. “W͘h̅e͔re a᷇r̰e̶ y̑ou͏ hid͛ǐnͅg̤?”

Jack caught sight of a flickering black sneaker from his hiding spot and he popped up from behind the coffee table, firing the NERF gun at the center of Anti’s chest.

Anti barely flinched as the foam disc bounced off of him with a spark of electricity. He blinked - dark, void-like eyes - and stared down at the harmless green projectile on the floor.

“A̛ n᷄er̼f͈ d̑i͞sč? Ȓe͏a̧ll̐y̕, Ja͙c͂k̇?᷀”

Jack shrugged. He pretended that he wasn’t sweating buckets and shaking like a leaf behind the nerf gun in his hands.

“N-Not like I’ve got anythin’ else.”

“H̆o̲w͘ v᷁e̛ry “C̰h̦a͘s̟e B̜r̵o̦d͔y” o͈f̹ y̬öu͍.”

Somehow the mention of another Ego’s name on Anti’s lips made Jack tense up. It was surreal. It was strange. They were all fake - all of them fictional - yet Anti had somehow become so much more. The concept of the living incarnation of his once-fictional character mentioning another of his still-fictional characters so casually like that...it was unsettling, to say the least. Jack squeezed his eyes shut and swallowed. He just needed to hold out a little longer, just a little while longer, until Mark came back from the car. Keep talking. Keep going...

“W-Well...well…it’s t-technically his gun...s-so…”

Jack opened his eyes.

Anti wasn’t there.

“I̚ kn̴ơw̼ w̖h̖a̽ẗ y᷆o̠u᷄’͍r͖e do̕i͖n̖g̉.”

The chilling voice seemed to come from all sides at once, and Jack could make out flickers of pixels and static in the dark shadows of the room. He fumbled with the ziplock in his pocket, pulling out a foam disc to load his NERF gun again.

“Oh?” Jack asked, his voice coming out higher than he’d intended. “Do…” He cleared his throat. “...do you now?”

“M᷅a̪r̿k̀i̟pl̻i̘e͛r᷀ i̵sn̄’t͡ c̊o͇m̕i͝n̩g͚ to͆ s̲a͙v᷀e͎ yo̫u̥.”

Jack’s blood ran cold.

“What–”

“H᷁e’̘s̎...ă li͢t̺t͖l̷e᷄ ţie͓d᷄ u̯p̉ a̳t̀ th̪e͡ m̘oͥmȩn͇ẗ́.” Anti’s distorted giggle echoed and circled in the empty air, causing goosebumps to sprout up along Jack’s arms. His breath hitched, eyes flying wildly around the room, trying to spot any sign of his doppleganger. “Y᷇o᷅u̥ wer͖e̸ṇ’t̃ p̼l̯a̿yi̟n͘g̉ fa̯ir̤, Ja̒c̉k̩a̫b᷉o͎y…” The next words came front right over his shoulder, whispered into his ear like a dirty secret. “...s̥o̾ Į le͍veͅlèd͎ t̏h̬e͕ p̭l̎ay᷊i̹n͑g̵ fi̥el͔d͙.͝ Ġot̥ ą c̋er̒t̛a͙i͇n da̢r͍k a̭cq̑ŭa̖in͊t̮a̠n̸ce̬ of̿ m̪i̎ne t͖õ ẖęl̍p̖ m̓e̺ o̢u̟t a̲ li̫t͕t᷈l̪e.”

Mark was scared to blink, staring at his own reflection in the car’s window with his jaw clenched, a vein pulsing in his neck. A figure stood just behind his shoulder, his body outlined in a familiar red and blue, looking so familiar yet so foreign at the same time. By the time his smoothie hit the concrete and burst open, splattering the ground, only fractions of a second had passed...but it felt like an eternity. He blinked.

Dark was gone.

“Mark?” Tim’s voice cropped up beside his ear, confused and a little worried.

“...hold on to me, okay?” Mark murmured, and he brought a hand up to try and shield his familiar from whatever might happen. Whoever might happen.

“I’m not here for him, you know.”

The voice, deep and echoing and so like his own but different, startled him into turning around. He hadn’t been in the reflection, but he hadn’t actually left. His name left Mark’s lips in a strained whisper.

“Darkiplier.”

“Face-to-face, at long last,” Dark nodded. He smirked, folding his hands behind his back. “And like I said...I’m only here for you. This is all coming from your mind, Mark.”

“Mark? What’re you lookin’ at?”

Tim. He sounded so innocent and confused, so worried about Mark, and what Dark was saying suddenly registered in Mark’s mind.

“Tim can’t see you, can he?”

“Tim doesn’t have to see me,” Dark corrected, raising an eyebrow in clear impatience. “I don’t want him to see me, therefore he can’t. But you…” His head tilted to the side and he made his neck pop, his shell cracking and separating for a moment. Then he leaned forward, intrigued. “...you, I can never quite hide from. Not completely. Why is that?”

“I...don’t know,” Mark shook his head, confused. Lost. Dark was here, and he was very real, and he was talking to Mark as though none of this was odd. “Maybe...uh....maybe because I made you?”

“Y̙̭o͏̖͔͙͓̼u d͇͈̭i͎̤͉ḍ̼̠̭̟̯͡n̡͕͎̙̜’̠̹̫̦͙͡t ̝ma̟k̼͎͝e̗̗̱͈̬ͅ m̰̥ḛ.”

There was an echoing fury boiling under the words, and the air around Dark seemed to darken considerably in the moment. Mark took an involuntary step back towards his car.

“I - what?”

“You didn’t make me.” Dark’s anaglyphic image was separating, tearing itself apart, and one of his echoing reflections seemed to scream silently into the cold night air. All the while, his core image remained stern and unyielding, showing barely any emotion at all. “You destroyed me - destroyed us. You stole his body. You condemned her to hell. You drove him to insanity. You ruined their lives.”

It clicked, then, what Dark was talking about. This was exactly what Mark had been scared of, worried about, when he was talking to Jack in that cafe. This was why he was regretting the creation of “Who Killed Markiplier”...or more accurately, he was regretting the addition of the character of Mark. The Mark who was an actor. The Mark who was an asshole. The fictional Mark who ruined everything and destroyed so many people…

...Dark was under the impression that Actor Mark and YouTube Mark were one and the same.

Mark blinked, and suddenly Dark was so much closer than he had been before. The darkness that had been enveloping the demon was surrounding Mark too now, and it was absolutely suffocating.

“...but, I suppose I should be thanking you,” Dark continued, a smirk finding its way onto his face. He tilted his head to the side, regarding Mark thoughtfully. “In a way, you...are the reason I exist. Your damnation of your friends led to my creation. A part of me is furious...but a part of me is more than grateful. You set the darkness free, Mark.”

Mark’s heart was pounding, rapid, in his chest and he could feel a minute panic slowly flooding his very soul. He gulped and shook his head, one hand still holding Tim close - Tim, who had fallen strangely silent, though Mark didn’t stop to question it.

Dark wasn’t here to hurt him. Dark didn’t resort to physical violence unless he had to, Mark had written him that way. While Anti went straight for the knife, Dark resorted to other means of making his point and making his mark.

This was all in his mind. Dark wasn’t physically here.

“What are you doing here?” he asked. “You...I’ve been seeing you, for months, but this is the first time you’ve actually spoken to me. What changed?”

Dark’s gaze trailed off to the side, toward the apartment, before settling back on Mark.

“A friend asked for a favor.” He quirked an eyebrow. “I merely agreed.”

A cry of pain broke the odd non-silence of the evening, a cry of pain that sounded all too familiar and was coming from the apartment Mark had been trying to return to. His eyes widened.

A friend asked for a favor.

A friend of Dark’s. Anti.

“Jack!”

Mark shoved away from the car and ran through Dark’s mirage of a body, the blue and red dispersing into wisps of dark smoke. Mark only made it halfway to the stairs.

“Clever boy. But you can’t leave. Not yet.”

Dark’s voice echoed in his mind, sending a blinding pain through his skull that brought him to his knees with a shout. He clutched at his head, fingers tangling in his hair and digging into his scalp. He felt rather than saw Tim tumble off of his shoulder, falling the few feet to the ground, making Mark wince in sympathy. There wasn’t enough strength in him to free himself from the mental onslaught, let alone help his tiny friend.

But he needed to. He needed to get Dark out of his head, needed to help Jack. If Dark was out here, then Anti must be in there, and he’d already seen what Anti had done to Jack the last time he had shown up. It wasn’t pretty. Mark didn’t fancy seeing a reenactment.

Get out...get out!

“Why would I? I have a job to do, Mark. You better than anyone should know that I never put in a half effort.”

Images began to surface in his mind, horrible images, memories that had never happened...memories of his friends, his real friends, getting hurt…

Please don’t. They don’t deserve this.

“Neither did Damien. Neither did Celine. Neither did William.”

“That...w-wasn’t me!” he protested, finally finding his voice, the words hoarse and weak. “You’ve got it - ngh - wrong! I’m - y-yeah, I’m Mark, but I’m n-not that Mark! I–”

“Oh, quit with your pitiful lies,” Dark sneered. “Celine is already angry enough with you as it is.”

“No, listen! I made up that version of Mark the same way I created you and Wilford and Abe – I’m just a writer, okay?!”

“Give up, Mark. Nobody can hear you. Let’s see how long you last before you begin pleading for forgiveness. I have all night…”

Hold on, Jack. I’m coming. Hold on–

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Jack shuddered and shot to his feet, almost tripping over the coffee table in his haste to get away from Anti, who cackled in amusement from where he’d appeared directly over Jack’s shoulder. Jack rounded on the glitch and aimed his NERF gun at the glitch’s chest, not even caring that it was basically harmless.

“What did you do?!” he demanded, his concern for his friend overtaking his fear for his own life. “Is Dark gonna kill him?”

“D̙o͕n͑’̚t b͐e͟ s͋i̧lly!” Anti smirked and rolled his eyes, playing with his knife out of sheer boredom, tossing it between his hands and flipping it in the air. It was clear he was skilled with his weapon on choice, throwing it around with ease like one would a half-filled water bottle. “O᷄l’ D̜a̩rki͈e̚ do̶ẹs̨n̈́’ť ju͊st̽ ķill̔ p̠eo᷈p̰l͌e̞. O᷀r͋ hē w͈on̎’̞t k̇i͏ll̫ Ma̻r᷊kipl̮i̧er͕, an̋y̑w̩a͕y̒.”

The knife soared a good foot or two in the air before tumbling downward, making Jack tense even as he watched Anti catch it cleanly by the handle.

“Fa͐r a͓š I̩ c̠a᷊n̅ t͂ell͚ he̟’̤s̄ p͞r̃et᷇ty̚ p̝i᷅s̱s͚e͔d͐ a̤t᷆ ṱh͔e̓ g̹uy̗. Be̘en̒ t͑oy̕īn͗’͈ w̶it’ hi̛m᷆ f̦o͐r̬ m̽o᷆nt̾h̟s̞,̈ o̊ř so̊ h͍i᷉s̝ r̓oboͅt́ s̽a᷁ẏs͍.”

Robot? Jack’s brow furrowed in confusion. Dark had robots now?

“N̛a̡h᷾, Da͖r̓k̺’s͗ n̠o͊t̻ g̦onnå k̬i͗l͙ḽ Mar̃k̝. P͑ŕe̽t̩ṯyͅ s̒u̕r̾e ḣe᷇’d̈ r̯a̱the̗r dr̹i͖v̓ę h͂i͔m̃ t̰o̐ i͢n᷀s̷a͛nityͅ ḅefo᷾r̞e͓ tͅh͙a̓t ĥap̆p̝e̾ns.”

Jack swallowed thickly. Drive him to insanity? Could Dark so that? He was brought back to the conversation he and Mark had had almost a week ago, in the cafe. The first morning Mark had shown up.

“Dark’s more subtle,” Mark had said. “He works behind the scenes. He doesn’t deal with face-to-face conflict as much. He mostly sticks to the shadows. I mean, I gave him his backstory, I should know this…honestly, it makes me wonder if ‘Who Killed Markiplier’ wasn’t a horrible, horrible idea.”

Mark had been worried, beyond worried, about the concept of Dark actually making his move. Jack had noticed it that day but hadn’t bothered to ask about it. He was beginning to think that, perhaps, he should have pushed a little more.

“Bu̼t y̾o̲u̱ h᷁aͅve̕n̰’t̰ goṯ th᷁a͗t͓ to w᷁o͢r͊ry̽ ab̻o̱u̺t̍, Ja͖cͅka᷁b͐o̱y!” Anti was grinning again, and Jack would swear that his doppleganger’s teeth were sharp, pointed. Deadly. “A͟ft̸ëṙ t᷁o᷁n̎ig̙h̸t, you̅ w᷄o̓nͅ’̥t͂ b͐e̡ w̢OR̵r̈Yi͇N̞g a᷊BoUt a᷅N̡ÿ́T͒h̛i͙N᷇g͋.”

Anti’s distorted shadow grew around him, engulfing his side of the room in a glitching, pulsating, corrupted darkness, and from its depths shot out a dozen or so venom-green cords of light. At Anti’s command, they darted forward and curled tightly around Jack’s wrists, his ankles, his knees and elbows, his chest - his throat. Not tight enough to strangle, but with his bruises still healing, it was more than tight enough to hurt.

Jack gasped sharply and gritted his teeth, snarling and tugging against the green strings, fighting for his freedom. He had to get out. He had to save Sam, had to help Mark. But there was something...odd about the strings. With each tug against his restraints, Jack felt a little more of the fight leaving him, his will to rebel slowly draining away. His head was pounding, his throat was sore, and his shoulder was throbbing with pain...so...so wouldn’t it…

...wouldn’t it be easier to just give in?

The NERF gun fell from his hands, tumbling to the floor with a clatter of plastic and a muffled thump against the carpet.

“No͊w be̺ a̦ go͟õd̏ li᷅t̏t᷁l͋e᷊ pup̝p͟ét, an̂d̯ ğo᷊ t̥õ s͕le̗e̥ṗ.”

Yeah...yeah, sleep sounded so wonderful right now. Jack slowly let his eyes drifted shut.

Click.

“You let ‘im go right this fucking second, or I blow your fuckin’ brains out, bro.”

[A/N] - Woot! It's done! ^^ And ending on a cliffhanger too? Shocking! :0c

This chapter actually took a lot longer to finish than I originally intended. For some reason I was really struggling to get going on it, but once I started into the ambush, it really started rolling. Believe it or not, this chapter is about twice the length of all the others. While most other chapters finish off at around ten pages in Google Docs, this one? This one hit a solid twenty. Absolute insanity.

Anyway! Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed it, and comments and critiques are always appreciated! Ta!

Also find the latest chapters of this story on [Archive Of Our Own]

[Previous|Next]

[Chapter List]

#SamLives #Sam Lives #Jacksepticeye #Sam Septiceye #JSE FanFic #JSE FanFiction #Jacksepticeye FanFic #Jacksepticeye FanFiction #Sam #Antisepticeye #Darkiplier #Markiplier

24 notes · View notes