#the two examples in my head are a lot of the silent hill games and also jurassic park

[i-was-once-a--tortoise]

weird thing that's hard to describe but one of my favorite things in horror media is when the soundtrack doesn't sound like Horror Music. there's something almost extra unsettling about experiencing horrific shit but the music playing is like, almost calm and soothing.

[horrorknife]

here it is yall. the famed mary and james tumblr essay that i keep talking about doing

i’m gonna break this up into chunks because it’s just. easier for me to think that way. also wrote this in one sitting so im really sorry if some of it is grammatically horrific or phrased weirdly lol

part 1: james and misogyny

so first off, yes, james’ misogyny is prevalent and actually a bit of a theme throughout the game--this mostly manifests as his struggle with his sexual frustration (as the meme goes). it’s so potent that people who don’t even know anything about silent hill know that a theme of sh2 is sexual frustration.

looking at the bubble head nurses and mannequins, we can see that james’ sexual frustration may have led him to fantasize about the nurses tending to mary. the mannequins are just two sets of legs put together at the hips, which suggests that james sees women only as sex objects. whether or not he was always like this is uncertain, though i believe these thoughts were always present in the back of his mind since...i mean he’s living life as a white man somewhere between the 70′s and 80′s.

more misogyny springs up with maria’s appearance. maria looks facially identical to mary, but she’s got a less conservative hairstyle and shows much more skin, complete with a tattoo on the exposed skin of her stomach. i find maria’s sexualization to be the most in-your-face of all of these examples, simply because her colors are so loud compared to literally everything else in the game--it really gives you the feel that, before all else, james wants to have sex with his wife. this idealized version of her that silent hill provides to him is what he wants from mary. we don’t know much about their marriage prior to the game’s events or mary’s sickness, but it’s possible that she was once a lot more sexually present. i believe this to be true simply based on the fact that their relationship is described as being “very intense” in the first few years before plateauing into a normal, homey love.

part 2: did james really love mary?

of course james loved mary! everything that happens in the game suggests that james loves his wife more than anything. i don’t believe that their relationship was ever onesided or abusive prior to mary’s sickness, and even then, i strongly hesitate to use the word “abusive” in reference to their relationship at any point.

anyway--james’ devotion to mary is the driving force of the game. as far as we know until the end, james got a letter from mary, who has been “dead for 3 years”. when angela tells him that the town is dangerous, james’ response is that he doesn’t really care that it’s dangerous. from what the player knows, james has fallen into a depression so deep that he is passively suicidal and without hope for pretty much anything. the mere possibility of seeing his dead wife is all the excuse he needs to thrust himself into the pits of hell, because that would make any suffering at all worth it.

i would say that, in my personal opinion, the most damning evidence to prove that james loves mary is the fact that he was so distraught by what he did to her that he became delusional to the point of driving back to their beloved vacation spot in the hopes that he would see her again. he has her body in the back seat of his car and is so horrified by what he’s done that he forces himself to forget.

part 3: if james loved mary, why would he kill her?

okay. now we’re getting into the meat of this. i’ve seen people argue that james couldn’t possibly have loved mary because he killed her. this take is problematic because it completely disregards all of the onscreen evidence that suggests the complete opposite. is james a horrible person for murdering his wife? YES! is that what you are supposed to understand about him? YES! silent hill, and pyramid head in specific, is literally punishing him for his sins. pyramid head is a product of his own desire to be punished for his actions, which he realizes at the end of the game.

so, why does james kill mary? let’s dissect the complete situation first.

part 3 part 1: mary’s sickness

silent hill 2 does something very effective (at least in my opinion) by putting you in the shoes of someone who is watching a loved one die in real time from a terminal illness. despite james’ unforgivable actions, the player gets a very close and personal look at what he was going through while watching his wife wither away. james indicates to us that he did as much research as he possibly could about what could possibly be wrong with mary, to no avail.

it’s implied that james stopped visiting as frequently and instead turned to drinking. we’re allowed to overhear mary’s end of a conversation from when he visits, bringing her a bouquet of flowers. mary, at this point, is convinced that she is ugly and unlovable, and above all else, is suffering through a disease that is killing her. she’s frustrated and upset, shouting at james to leave, get out of here, don’t look at her, etc. i’ve seen people reference this as abusive behavior, which, like i said before, is something i hesitate to call it. this is typical behavior from someone who is dying. it doesn’t justify her treating him poorly, but i don’t think james is mary’s victim at all. i don’t think james sees it that way, either--he knows she’s suffering. directly after this, we hear mary break down and apologize. she tells james that she wants to die, for her pain to end, etc, and then quickly takes it back, because as any sick person would be, she is having a very complicated relationship with her mortality.

part 3 part 2: mary’s death

james kills mary when she is allowed to come live at home for a few days because she is clearly nearing the end of her life. james kills her via suffocation with a pillow, directly after kissing her on the forehead. at the end of the game, when james is speaking with mary, he first says that he killed her because he wanted her to be free of her illness, and then backtracks and says that, no, it’s because he despised her and wanted his life back. mary (who is not actually mary, remember, but james’ projection of her) responds by saying something along the lines of, “if that’s true, then why are you so sad?”

since we understand that this is not james and mary conversing, we know that this is an internal conflict that james is resolving by talking it out with his approximation of mary. james’ resentment for mary is not deep; it’s quite common for these feelings to arise in people who have to watch their significant other die when they can do nothing about it. i don’t read this as resentment specifically for mary, rather a frustration with the entire situation that ends up seeing its fruition in the only place it possibly can: the person causing the pain. he can’t be angry at something intangible, so he ends up feeling angry with mary.

this is as true as it is that he also wanted mary to be relieved of her suffering. james did not have one singular reason for murdering mary--he had justified it to himself as both of them getting relief. in the end, this clearly wasn’t what he wanted, but it does speak volumes to his desperation that he actually went through with it. i don’t believe that he thought this would solve anything; i don’t think it was even premeditated. it’s presented to the player that he just wanted both of them to stop going through what they were going through.

james’ instant horror at his own actions (the ultimate betrayal of his wife, the murder of another human being, and the intrinsic selfishness of the act) speaks volumes to me from a character standpoint. i’m not sure how people are able to miss this, but then again, *gestures to the silent hill fanbase*

btw, i wasn’t sure where to fit this in, but mary’s up and downs are clearly reflected in maria, based on how her attitude fluctuates so intensely with james.

anyway: james’ love for mary is ultimately what ended up killing her, because it became unsustainable the worse her situation got. i think it’s worth pointing out that despite everything, james never cheated on her (as far as we are told--though i think if he had done this, it would have been seen or mentioned in the game). also, please don’t come away from this with the idea that i’m defending james, because i’m not--i just think that he actually has a lot of depth and he gets very one-dimensionalized by fans! james isn’t innocent, he’s a horrible person who let his love warp him into a toxic, angry person. this can coexist with the fact that he loved his wife beyond all measure!!!!

i’m not super sure on how to wrap this up but this is...most of my thoughts on their relationship. it’s skewed towards james just because we don’t have too much of an idea of what mary was like but i will defend her with my life because this woman was not abusive, she was fucking dying and lonely. honestly i could say a lot about her, laura, and james as a group but i feel like that’s probably suitable for another post sometime. :-)

[wetwaluigi]

lost hex hc sludge, anyone

so ive had this.. sudo-headcanon about sonics world for a while- meaning its something that crosses my mind on occasion and makes sense on a technical level but realistically they were never going for but there keeps being little coincidences that make me WANT to, so. anyway reminder that the zones in LW are inspired by existing classic sonic zones- some are more blatant than others, windy and green hill for example obviously this was for nostalgia bait but eventually i kinda wondered how from a LORE standpoint they would be similar? what i settled on was that over eons, tiles of the lost hex fell down onto the surface periodically, and as thousands of years passed those fallen tiles began to somewhat... spread/infect the world below, making it weird and sonicy this also is an extension of me believing the lost hex follows a minor flightpath which also means its reach would extend over multiple islands, such as south island, or what i specifically want to mention, the northstar islands so superstars came out recently, and me being zeti-pilled made me keep an eye out on similarities between the northstar islands and the lost hex since they're both classic inspired and theres surprisingly a lot more than i thought? for example (sorry for the picture quality, took these on switch handheld)

why is this the second time we're doing 'beach level with jet streams everywhere and unexplainable gigantic fruit littered all over the place'

why is this the second time we're doing a frozen base with a red machinery color palate another frozen base example in a more modern setting is white acropolis, but not taking place on an island, it looks nothing like these too i feel like this one couldve easily come from idea drought because its very weird how similar the themes and aesthetics are

its hard to explain the similarities of these two past 'ooga booga jungle' without being in motion but i cant be the only one even act 2s focus on darkness when theres a darkness level with no lights in silent forest too is just kind of. weird (considering im pretty sure those are the only two darkness levels in the series?)- didnt get a pic of it but you know what i mean if youve played both

floating brown platforms in the clouds is not like. an obscenely unique idea but id be remissed to not mention it although superstars' reminds me more of sonic adventure than SLW

this 100% means nothing since its a generic pattern, just consider it a silly bonus because it was the first thing i thought of when i played golden capital

(unrelated side note but the aesthetic of this level obliterates pinball carnival and golden capital- anyway) hopefully these are enough examples for now- one of them is a bit too spoilery to show this soon this is a weird hc territory where it absolutely was not what they were going for, but theres a lot of little coincidences here and there that make it work for me personally? most of the coincidences absolutely stem from the fact that both of these games have overall very generic level themes so theres bound to be some overlap, but oh well, its a thought

anyway just figured id rant about this, theres not enough rants on this page despite the amount i have bouncing around in my head

[floating-mid-air]

The Princess of All Saiyans

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Masterlist

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Hey guys. I ended up taking a bit of a break from this fic, but I'm back now. I'm not entirely sure how I feel about this chapter yet. I've been getting a bit impatient as of recent. I just have so many ideas for this story that I can't use yet. I also just wanted to take a second to thank everyone for their support. I never expected anyone to actually read this story, so it means a lot. Anyways on to the chapter.

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Chapter 8

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Quite some time has passed since your initial imprisonment in this dim cavern. And yes, you're still stuck with the half-breed. Though Zarbon left some time ago. Leaving an alarming number of foot-soldiers behind, who now surround the ruins of what was once a Namekian village. You could effortlessly eliminate those vermin, but you're not willing to take the chance. Not with a Dragon Ball in your possession.

All you can hear are the grating voices of Frieza's men from outside the cave. They're somehow significantly more irritating than the kid. You didn't even think that was possible. So you do the only thing you could think of to block out the obnoxious murmuring. You decide to actually interact with the brat. "Your mother can't be thrilled about your excursion to Namek. Considering she's human and all." Would this be classified as small talk? Or is it too heavy of a topic? You've never been good with this sort of thing.

He looks at you, his eyes wide in disbelief. From the little interaction the two of you have had, Gohan never believed you would be the one to initiate conversation. "Actually, my mom died when I was little." Well, this turned out to be the worst topic you could've possibly chosen. You observe him carefully. He doesn't seem upset, so at least you won't have to deal with him crying. "Y/N. What's having a mom like?"

You're positive that Saiyan mother's behaviors differ from what would be considered normal on Earth. At least, you think, you don't have much experience with motherly figures yourself. "I couldn't tell you, kid. My mother died when I was an infant." Gohan's face falls. He might never know how an average parent should behave. "I'd ask Raditz, though. He can talk your ear off about your grandmother."

"Was she---you know---like you?"

You chuckle, tilting your head backward. "What? You mean evil? No, from what I've heard, she was one of those weak Saiyans. She lacked the basic instinct--- kinda like your moronic father."

A grin spreads across the brat's lips as his eyes meet yours. "You know, you're not so bad after all."

Your expression instantly hardens at his words. "This doesn't mean we're allies now." You direct your attention outside. Those underlings must have gotten careless. You can't even detect a singular soldier that stayed behind. "Come on, it's safe to go."

You push the boulder out of the way, finally exiting the cave. The brat follows, holding the camouflaged orb in hand. "Now, let's solve this little Dragon Ball issue." You cut yourself off, directing your gaze toward Vegeta's power level. He's currently mid-battle with who you believe is Zarbon. Looks like the green-haired narcissist was able to track down your brother after all. You're not worried. Vegeta seems to be inflicting most of the damage. 

Something else piques your interest, though, the three other power sources near your brother. One of them is definitely Raditz. Another is unfamiliar to you. It's almost insect-like that must be the Earth woman. And lastly, you believe that bald earthling is there as well. He's much more powerful than he was when you saw him earlier today. How peculiar. "Well, looks like we're heading to the same place after all." You float up into the air. "You coming or not?" He nods, trailing behind you as you both travel to the location of the battle.

You and Gohan strategically maneuver yourselves behind a hill, your eyes intently focused on the battle. You can clearly see Zarbon and Vegeta, as well as Raditz. You move your gaze to the two earthlings, who are both quivering in fear. You can't help but wonder who they're more terrified of, whether it's Zarbon's hideous transformation or your brother.

You turn back to the half-breed, who's about to blow your cover. Before he can fly into the chaos to "save" his friends, you grab onto the back of his shirt. "You don't want to get yourself tangled up with Zarbon. There's no quicker way to get yourself and your friends killed. As long as Zarbon is focused on Vegeta, your friends will be fine." You maintain a tight grip on the purple fabric. You don't trust the brat one bit. "Did that Namekain teach you nothing about self-control?"

He looks up at you, furrowing his brows. "How did you know I trained with Piccolo?"

A breathy sigh escapes your lips. "Well, since Kakarot was dead, I figure someone competent must have trained you. Plus, you're wearing the same attire as that Namekian. It doesn't take a brainiac to figure it out." You switch your attention back to the battlefield, letting go of your grip on Gohan.

While Vegeta is distracted with Zarbon, you can feel energy rapidly approaching their vicinity.  Your brother has his back turned, so it must be a sneak attack on him. Before whatever it is can even strike, you teleport in front of Vegeta, grasping onto the foot soldier's fist, freezing the creature in place. "Too slow." A devilish smirk appears on your features. 

"Y/N. I was wondering when you'd finally make an appearance." It seems this transformation doesn't just affect Zarbon's characteristics, but it distorts his voice as well.

"Zarbon. I see you've let yourself go." Taking shots at his looks should be the best way to throw Zarbon off his game.

You let go of the orange alien, pushing him backward. His eyes narrow at you, clenching his right hand, checking for any lasting damage. "How dare you speak to Zarbon in such a manner! He's your superior in every way."

"Shh." You bring a finger up to your lips. "The grown-ups are talking." As fun as patronizing this insect is, you know this encounter will have to escalate sooner rather than later.

Vegeta turns to you, a faint smirk ghosting his lips. "I hope your intentions were not to involve yourself in my battle."

"I know better than to get involved when you're out for blood, Vegeta." You chuckle. "I'll make do with this half-wit. I just have to figure out a way to draw out the battle." You rub your chin, contemplating the best way to decrease your efficiency. "I got it." You wrap your dominant hand behind your back. "I'll fight this weakling one-handed."

"You cocky Saiyan, bitch." The creature snarls, stepping closer to you. "I don't think I've ever seen you fight one of your own battles. You know what I think. You're only feared because of Vegeta." Everyone around you grows silent, well except, for Raditz. His laughter echoes around the rocky terrain. The Saiyan finds this humorous, not because of the alien's words, but because he knows the orange creature has just taken his last breath.

Your aloof gaze remains locked on the ugly creature, your head slightly tilted. "You know what. I was being quite generous before." You move your other arm behind your back, clasping your hands together. "I don't even need one."

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see the half-breed, who has now joined his friends. He's jumping up and down as Krillin stares at him in bewilderment. "I'm excited. We're finally going to get to see her fight."

"Gohan." Krillin's timid voice invades your ears. "I think you're starting to act a bit too much like your dad."

It becomes clear to you that your opponent won't make the first move, so you'll have to take charge of the situation. You turn to Vegeta, who has Zarbon in a headlock. "If you don't mind Vegeta. I'd like to go first."

He nods, chuckling to himself. "Oh, be my guest. The floor is all yours." 

You descend to the ground, centering yourself on the terrain. "Alright, let's get going. I don't have all day. So show me the best you got." The alien shoots toward you, swinging his fists blindly.  He doesn't even seem to have a proper strategy. Is this really the best the Frieza Force has to offer? A being who lacks basic combat abilities. 

You dodge every single potential blow, speeding back and forth at a slow pace. An earthling could even evade these strikes. This is pitiful. It's clear that whoever's responsible for training these buffoons has been cutting corners.

"Stop dodging!" The creature shrieks in pure frustration. 

A wolfish grin appears on your face. It's fitting you're the predator while he's the prey. "Well, if you insist." At light speed, you swing your leg upwards, kicking his chin. Blood rushes from the corners of his lips as the orange creature spits out multiple stray teeth. You continue your merciless assault, alternating between striking his face and torso. "Don't be mistaken. I don't fight because a woman of my status doesn't have to handle such demeaning tasks, like exterminating pathetic life forms. Beings similar to yourself, but don't get me wrong. I'm more than happy to make an example out of you."

You fling up into the air. Your boot effortlessly connects with his face. Sending the alien hurdling backward. As soon as he regains balance, you teleport behind him. You may not be able to use your hands to form a blast, but you think you'll be able to direct the energy to your lower body. "I like to call this the Dust Charge." Heavy winds form around the battlefield, dragging dirt particles into the air supply, causing numerous dust clouds to emerge. The Dust Charge is not an attack perse. It's more of a red herring, a simple distraction tactic for your actual move.

"What's this supposed to do?" He chuckles mockingly. "Take my eyes out?" You don't understand why everyone always underestimates you. It's frustrating to not be taken seriously by your opponent. Especially when you outrank them in all aspects of life.

You've navigated yourself into one of the many dust clouds. This should be effective in concealing your next move. You focus all of your energy on your lower body, causing a pink orb to appear right before your eyes. It lays motionless on the ground, almost resembling a soccer ball. It takes a few moments, but the pink ball of energy finally begins to swell. Now the orb compares in size to your pod.

 Over the years, you've trained your eyesight to be unaffected by distraction tactics. So you can simply pinpoint the location of the alien. Once you do, you kick the orb in his direction. As soon as the creature absorbs the sphere, the dust clouds clear. Revealing your victory to the audience. You watch him crumble to the ground, screaming in agony. There is no visible damage to his body. Your nameless move is more of an internal attack. These sorts of attacks are much more sadistic in nature. Since they target your internal organs, resulting in complete organ failure.

You stride over to him, placing your boot on his head. Your aloof nature returns as you stomp on his head, crushing his skull. "Time to take out the trash." You unhook your hands, pointing them toward the limp body. You create a blast, vaporizing the corpse, successfully eliminating all remnants of the alien's existence.

"Alright. You've had your fun. Now it's time for the main event." There's no need to anger Vegeta. So you decide to comply. You fly over to the sidelines, landing next to Raditz.

The Earth woman turns to you, her eyes wide in terror. "Y- You squashed him."

You turn to meet her gaze. "That is how you kill insects, isn't it?"

"He was so weak. You didn't have to kill him!" Krillin interjects himself into your conversation.

"What the hell is wrong with your species?" You bring your hands to your temples, massaging them gently. "Let me put this in simple terms. If I let him live, he would've killed you, pathetic earthlings. Is that what you would've preferred? Because I can finish the job if you'd like."

The pair rapidly shakes their heads. "No. No. we're all good." Their voices shake, speaking simultaneously. Finally, you're getting the recognition you deserve. At least the earthlings take you seriously. That's better than nothing.

Raditz chuckles, shaking his head. "He challenged her pride. That's a death sentence itself." You don't think they have the brain capacity to understand the nature of a Saiyan. Being allies with the defect probably doesn't help either.

You look up at Raditz. "Is this what you've been dealing with?"

A breathy chuckle escaped his lips. "Oh, you have no idea."

You turn back to the fight, and it isn't that interesting. It's basically just Vegeta manhandling Zarbon. Your brother must have grown significantly stronger after getting the crap beat out of him so many times.

You suppress your laughter when Zarbon begs your brother for mercy. You're pretty sure that word no longer exists in Vegeta's vocabulary. Zarbon is one of the last beings in the entire universe, who your brother would even grant an inkling of sympathy. Similar to the other members of the Frieza Force, Zarbon offers to turn against his lord. It's apparent that none of Frieza's men are truly loyal to him. Bargaining with treason in return for you to spare their lives. Cui, Dedoria, and now Zarbon have all exhibited this same cowardly behavior. This is one of the many areas where you differ from those cowards. You'd never turn against Vegeta, even if it costs you your life.

Vegeta goes off on a tangent. The years of verbal abuse must have gotten to him too. "You want mercy? Oh, I'll show you mercy, all right." It's become transparent that Vegeta is going to show that narcissist the exact opposite of mercy. With a singular blast, your brother kills him. You watch Zarbon's corpse fling into the air, landing into the lake.

"Y-You call that mercy?" Krillin stutters. Well, apparently, your brother's intentions were not clear, to the earthlings after all. They really need to study the significance of tone.

"I'm disappointed." You huff. "I was expecting a bigger bang. Frankly, I would've been much crueler than that, Vegeta." You slowly stride over to Krillin. His comment from before did not sit well with you. So you intend to show him just how ruthless you can be. He also scares easily, so that's a bonus. He gulps nervously. As you tilt your head to become eye level with the human. "Firstly, I'd mutilate his face to destroy his vanity. Then I'd rip out his eyeballs and feed them to him. And then I'd kill Zarbon."

Vegeta chuckles. He knows how much you like intimidation. "Well, you have a much more sadistic imagination than I do, Y/N." He turns to Raditz, who's holding the one-star ball. "Now, a deal's a deal. Hand over your Dragon Ball." Clever, sparing their worthless lives for a possession of value. You wouldn't expect anything less from Vegeta.

Raditz looks from the humans to the half-breed. Before he can even calculate a plan, you sweep his legs out from under him. This successfully knocks the giant off balance, allowing you to catch the one-star orb. "Pleasure doing business with you." 

You toss the ball to Vegeta. He looks down at the orb, smirking. "Now that we have all seven, immortality will be ours." You know for a fact that you only possess six Dragon Balls. Gohan has the four-star ball, and you don't care to let Vegeta know. Immortality isn't your desire. You want to die one day, at least hell, has your kind. An eternal life sounds more like a punishment than anything else. 

Vegeta takes off first, and you shortly after him. It takes a while, but the two of you finally land in the ruins of that Namekian village. You're getting sick of constantly having to return to this horrid place. This better be the last time.

"So you didn't retrieve the Dragon Ball like I asked?" 

"I couldn't find it." You flash him the best innocent smile that you can manage.

"Clearly, you didn't search hard enough." He sighs, running a hand through his spiky hair. "You know what they say. If you want something done right, you do it yourself." And with that, he jumps into the lake.

He's going to be furious when he figures out the Dragon Ball is gone. Vegeta hasn't wanted anything this much in a long time. This is where the two of you differ. As long as Frieza doesn't have the orbs, you're content. You don't care if the earthlings get them. And you care even less about what they desire to wish for. If they want to bring their loser friends back, so be it. You'll just have to kill them again. It shouldn't be difficult at all.

The splashes on the surface of the water become more erratic. Vegeta must be growing frustrated. He springs up from the water, shooting into the air. "That damn brat!" He takes off in the direction of the earthling's hideout. Looks like Vegeta figured out the truth all on his own, only you're not entirely sure how.

You chase after him, heading to the cave. But it's too late. They're already long gone. Vegeta murmurs various curse words under his breath, desperately trying to keep his temper in check. "Well, new plan. Y/N, you're going to babysit the Dragon Balls. While I have a play date to get to." He shoots back up into the air. "No one makes a mockery of me and gets to live to tell about it!"

"Wait! Vegeta!" You shout. "I don't know where you put them."

"That sounds like a you problem, little sister!" Vegeta takes off, escaping your view.

He's such an asshole. "This is going to take forever." You wine before taking off in your own pursuit. Only you're searching for several inanimate objects that lack a power level. If you wanna find those Dragon Balls, you'll have to think like Vegeta. So if you were Vegeta, you'd want to leave them somewhere secure, but where he'd be able to remember their location. With the land formations on Namek, the only place that makes sense is a cave system.

It was a shot in the dark, one that eventually paid off. You finally found those damn orbs. You sit down on one of the Dragon Balls. These orbs are much larger than the set on Earth. You sigh, placing your hands on the sides of your face. The reality of your situation has just set in. You could've very well run into Freiza, and that would've been game over for you. You could've died. You'll get back at Vegeta. Maybe you'll scare him half to death, make him think you did, in fact, die. The look on his face would be priceless.

Now you're bored. At times like this, you miss having Raditz to banter with or even having Nappa to mock. You have been wondering something for a while. Frieza must be running low on henchmen by now. Dodoria and Zarbon are dead, and you and Vegeta have taken out a fair share of his soldiers. You're also sure the earthlings have taken out a couple of those imbeciles as well. So isn't this about the time where Frieza will call for enforcements if he hasn't already?

You can sense a mass cluster of energy approaching Namek. The Ginyu Force, that's the only possible explanation. How didn't you come to this conclusion sooner? This is bad. This is really bad. From a glance, they appear to be a bunch of idiots, but they are far from that. Well, for the most part. Recoome may have suffered from some sort of brain damage.

This situation is far from ideal. You're all alone on Namek, and now the Ginyu force is running loose. Hopefully, they'll split up. If you encounter Jace, you'll probably be able to sweet-talk your way out, but if it's any of the other four, you're screwed. 

You stop mid-panic. The perfect opportunity has just arisen. One that will make Vegeta eat his words, the perfect vengeance plan. He's probably going mad now. Filled with regret for leaving you alone now that the Ginyu Force is here. Oh, this will be good. You fly up, making a little burrow in a nearby hill. Hiding in the structure. This will give that dimwit brother of yours a good scare.

Meanwhile, with Bulma and Raditz:

Krillin and Gohan left a while ago, leaving the explosive pair alone in the ravine. This was poor thinking on Krillin's part. Raditz and Bulma had managed to avoid interaction while Bulma spruced up the hideout, making it more comfortable according to Earth standards. Instead of sitting at the table with Bulma, the Saiyan has placed himself on the stone floor with the Dragon Ball placed strategically beside him.

Bulma lets out an exaggerated sigh. It's taken all of Raiditz's energy not to kill that woman. He's honestly surprised with the extent of his own self-control. "I still can't believe Gohan and Krillin. They left me all alone. On an alien planet. With you." Is this how all Earth women behave? Do they just whine and complain all day? Raditz hopes that isn't the case. Maybe Bulma is just an irregularity. 

Raditz shuts his eyes, taking a deep breath. "Do you ever stop complaining?"

"I'm a delicate flower Raditz. While you're a disgusting pig. I have the right to complain." Raditz snickers. If anyone's a disgusting pig, it's Bulma. She has the worst cleanliness he's ever seen. She never picks up after herself and then displaces her mess on others. She wouldn't last a day with Vegeta. One look at her uncleanly living quarters would cause the prince to throw a fit. 

"A delicate flower that wanted to bang Zarbon."

"How was I supposed to know he'd turn all hideous? He was cute before."

Raditz cringes. Zarbon was a repulsive creature, no matter what form he possessed. "You must really love that boyfriend of yours, huh?" Yamcha may be dead, but from what Raditz has gathered, they're planning on reviving him. Unless do earthlings not mate for life as Saiyans do? That's a possibility Raditz hasn't considered yet.

Bulma's expression sours, her eyes narrowing at the taller man. "Yamcha was a stupid jerk who got himself killed." She crosses her arms. "I'm still mad at him." 

Raditz furrows his brows, his mouth hung agape. "You know what. Remember how I said we did you a favor after we killed Yamcha. I've changed my mind now."

"Wow. Have you finally come to your senses?"

Raditz nods, a faint smirk ghosting his lips. "Oh, yes. Rather than you, I think we did Yamcha a massive favor."

Bulma proceeds to chew him out, which of course, the Saiyan ignores, rolling his eyes at the woman. Raditz holds up the orb, staring at it intently. If he were to bludgeon the Earth woman with this. How angry would the others be? It's a tough call for the Saiyan.

"Are you even listening to me?" Bulma shrieks as Raditz bangs his head against the rock. She's about to shout at him again, but three figures land in the ravine. Two of the creatures are Gohan and Krillin, while the third is unfamiliar. 

Raditz stands up, looking up at the third silhouette. "Vegeta? What the hell are you doing here?"

"We need that Dragon Ball." Raditz picks up on Krillin's use of we. What could possibly be so dire to cause them to work together? Maybe hell has frozen over. Because that's the only explanation that Raditz could fathom.

"For what?"

"We don't have time for this, you imbecile!" Vegeta huffs. "The Ginyu Force is here!" 

The larger Saiyan's eyes widen as he rabidly looks around. "Where's Y/N?"

"I left---" Vegeta's face drops, a twinkle of panic in his eyes. That's something Raditz has never seen from him in over twenty years. "God damn it!" Vegeta takes off, Raditz following him in pursuit. 

Krillin sighs, picking up the Dragon Ball. "Thanks, Bulma. Let's go, Gohan." Gohan nods before they both take off.

"Hey! Wait!" Bulma shouts. "You guys can't just leave me here! Again!"

-

What is Y/N's  true fate? Will Vegeta and the others find her in time? Or will it be too late? And where the hell is Goku? All will be revealed in the next chapter of The Princess of all Saiyans!

[amintyworld]

Doubts - Beginnings Part 4

WATERFALL (Part One), SUNSET (Part Two), SECRETS (Part Three)

A/N: Guess who back, back again-! Anyway, thanks to all the support in the last three parts, this series has been such a blast to write! I’ve finally decided on a name for it - Beginnings, so that’s what they’ll be titled with from now on to avoid any confusion. As always, links to the last three parts are above. I hope you enjoy! - Minty

TW: Surprise Pregnancy, anxiety/worry, blood/gore, alcohol/drinking, implied major character death, sickness, cursing. (Let me know if I need to tag anything else!)

--------------------------------------------

They started construction on a house around a 15-minute walk from Phil’s house, on a hill that overlooked the waterfall in the distance. They didn’t know what they were doing, but Phil did his best to help out when he could and give advice, having been in a similar situation not too long ago. Wilbur went out searching for jobs when he could and managed to get gigs every now and then as he saved up cash to get everything they needed. It was a new feeling for the couple - Wilbur’s constant worry over his girlfriend, and Sally’s determination to not let the pregnancy control her. All in all, it was a bit of a frazzle. Tommy and Tubbo were a bit off-put at the fact that they’d be uncles at such a young age - nonetheless, they tried to take it all in stride.

Phil answered a lot of questions in the following weeks from his two younger sons, who didn’t understand how it all worked. A good example could be just last week when Tubbo gave Sally ginger ale and straw, leaving Phil slightly confused until he figured out Tubbo was trying to help her out since ‘her stomach hurt’. Tommy’s confused ideas of helping were a bit more out there than his brother’s - the Carrot Incident was a pretty good example - but it was clear that their hearts were always in the right place. 

Technoblade was distanced and tried not to get too involved but helped out when he needed to - he told Phil that this was more Wilbur’s responsibility than his, which Phil couldn’t deny. The pig hybrid still hung around the couple and even eased their worries when he realized how absurd some of Wilbur’s concerns became - “You’re reading too much on those books, Wil. Just because it could happen doesn’t mean it will!” Technoblade was always available to talk and support his brother, who became a bit of a mess from it all. 

Still, they were a happy family who was nothing but excited for the baby’s arrival - they were going on five months, and things had been going smoothly… at least, mostly smoothly.

----------------------------------

Wilbur pulled up the covers on the bed as he left a tender kiss on Sally’s forehead. She smiled, yawning. “Wake me up for dinner…?”

“Of course, my salmon. You rest, I’ll make sure Tubbo and Tommy are quiet.”

Another yawn escaped the shifter’s lips. “You tell them if they wake me up they’ll be dealing with a very pissed off pregnant lady who…*yawn* won’t hesitate to kick their asses.” Wilbur giggled softly, brushing the hair out of his girlfriend’s face in a simple loving gesture.

“Get some sleep, okay?” Wilbur said. “I won’t be far.”

“I love you, Wil.”

“I love you too, Sally,” Wilbur said, turning off the lights to darken the room as he gently and softly closed the door behind him. Over time, most of his worries had eased, thankfully - but a few lingered in his mind that fizzled around his brain. Wilbur tried to push them away as he moved downstairs, resting his head against the counter for a brief moment, sitting on one of the kitchen stools. He let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding as he ran his hands through his hair once again. He had a gig later that night, but his body craved rest. Wilbur chose to ignore it, there wasn’t much use anyway. If he napped at this point he’d miss the job altogether, and he needed the cash. Bored, trying to distract himself, he pulled out his notepad and flipped to a fresh page as he rhythmically tapped the pencil against the paper, willing himself to focus his thoughts.

It felt strange to Wilbur to stare down at a blank page and not have anything to write. It was hard to describe how he felt, much less think of rhymes. So much was overwhelming his emotions and feelings, still, he tried to focus and scribble words across the page. Maybe if he wrote it all down, he’d feel better somehow - it always worked for him before. His notepad held all the times he was happy, all the times he was sad, upset, angry, confused… all hidden in words like a code only he could understand. It was the closest thing to a journal or diary that he owned, one of his most prized possessions.

Maybe it’ll comfort him now.

I’m struggling to breathe

Keep going

Protect her

Push forward

Wilbur looked down, his mouth turning down in distaste - this wasn’t exactly the lyrical poem that he usually formed. There was, as always, some truth in the words. It felt like he was ranting, almost. It didn’t make sense.

Everything will be okay

Wilbur’s eyebrows furrowed in thought at what he wrote. He was trying to reassure himself, but… it felt wrong.

Will everything be okay?

“Uh-oh, the notepad’s out,” Phil said jokingly from the doorway as he carried in what looked to be a large basket filled with the garden’s harvest - wheat, carrots, and potatoes. He quickly noticed Wilbur’s distress, his smirk quickly disappearing. “Wil? Wil what’s wrong?”

Wilbur sighed as he read the words staring up at him over and over. “Nothing really. Just a lot on my mind, I guess.”

“I see,” Phil said, not believing that for a second as he set the large basket down on the counter, methodically moving to store up the food. “You look tired.”

“I feel tired,” Wilbur said, finally closing the notepad as he let out a soft chuckle in the suffocatingly silent house. “Got a gig in an hour, though.”

“You need to sleep, Wil.” Phil scolded, his gaze stern.

Wilbur waved him off. “I’ve got a lot I need to do. It’s no problem, anyway - the club’s gonna close up in a few days, and then Jay said I might not get another job in at least a month while they restock for summer.” Phil gave him a look, hand on his hip as Wilbur held up both his hands in surrender. “I’ll get some better sleep then, I swear.”

“Good,” Phil said, his gaze softening as he turned back to the basket. “Are you heading to Melrose’s place tonight, or TBO?”

“Melrose. She needed me last minute to fill a half-hour slot, promised to pay double.” Wilbur said as he got up from the stool and stretched, heading over to grab a cup of lukewarm coffee that was left in the pot from the morning. Hey, coffee was coffee, and he needed to keep the sandman at bay - double pay was no joke, and with his earnings tonight he’d finally be able to get everything they needed for the new house and for the baby. He needed to go, and he had to do well.

“I hope she doesn’t expect to keep dragging you out last minute.”

“Hey, as long as it pays well-” Wilbur shot thoughtfully as he sipped his coffee. The two turned their attention as Technoblade entered the house, his weapons, and clothes covered in blood, a few of his kills on his shoulder. Phil grimaced. 

“Techno, I told you not to track blood in the house, go around to the back-!” The smell of rotting and decay, potent, filled the boy’s noses as they pinched them, trying to get rid of the scent. Technoblade silently turned around, going out the front door again. “You better shower and change before dinner, don’t forget!” Phil called as Techno simply waved his hand.

“Yeah, yeah…”

Wilbur quickly chugged the last of his coffee as he put the mug in the sink and quickly followed his older sibling. The night was cold as he pulled his jacket closer around him, walking around toward the back of the house. The sky was quickly turning dark as the day began to end, stars not quite appearing just yet. Techno sat over the two dead sheep he’d brought into the house earlier, the nasty musk somewhat masked by the cold wind. The pig hybrid was focused as he ran his blade along the belly of the kill, carving and cutting out sizable chunks of meat which he began to wrap in some jungle leaves for storage. Technoblade liked hunting, and no one could deny his skill, knowledge, and precision of it. He was patient and always waited for the right moment to strike, always hunted smaller game because he knew others were too big to carry back home. The prey always usually went down in one hit, and if that didn’t do the job Techno would usually hold the creature down while he made a quick jab toward the skull. He pig prided himself on his hunts, which provided the majority of their meat for meals ever since the town decided to enforce a livestock tax on the people to raise a little extra coin.

Setting the packages aside, Techno looked up to notice Wilbur staring at him silently. “Uh, hey Wil. Whaddya need?”

“Can’t I just check on my sweet older brother?” Wilbur smirked, and Techno huffed, amused.

“You can, but you and I both know you don’t.” Technoblade joked as he walked past him, heading toward the river with Wilbur close behind, grabbing a cloth and his bloodied weapons along the way. The pig hybrid took a breath as he turned to look at his brother. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing important, really,” Wilbur said. “I’ve just been worried, I guess.”

“About Sally?” Technoblade asked, kneeling down beside the river beginning to scrub his weapons clean. “Don’t tell me you’ve been reading those parenting books again, I’m telling you they’re shit-”

“I’m worried about myself.” Technoblade’s eyebrows shot up as he looked at his brother, slightly shocked at the intensity in his voice as he sat next to him by the riverbank. Wilbur took a deep breath as he tried to release the stress from his mind, looking into the clear running waters. “What if I mess up, or… or I can’t be a good father? What if I’m the one who’s not ready, you know?”

“This has all been your decision, Wilbur. Your life. I can’t tell you that everything will be sunshine and rainbows because to be completely honest Wil, I don’t know.” Technoblade said honestly, moving to place his clean sword on the grass and moving to grab his axe. “But I don’t think you should be worrying so much about the future. Live in the moment, in the now. If things go bad, you’ll know what to do Wilbur. Trust yourself.”

“But what if I-?”

“Nope. No more worrying.” Technoblade said, cutting off his brother. “Just focus on right now, and as cheesy as it is, have a bit of hope.”

“When did you get so philosophical?”

“I’m wise beyond my minutes, young one,” Technoblade smirked as Wilbur laughed. Techno began to wipe off his face and neck of blood, rinsing the cloth in the river as he went. 

“Do you have any parenting wisdom to place upon me?” Wilbur asked, half-joking.

“I mean, It’s not really my department. Kids aren’t really… they’re not my thing.” Technoblade said with a little shrug of his shoulders. “But if I had any advice to give you, it would be that if you have the same patience and love Phil had for us, I think you’ll do just fine.”

Patience and Love. Live in the moment. Trust yourself. His worries seemed to melt and dull in his mind, and he felt a lot better than he did earlier. “Thanks, Technoblade.”

Technoblade just saluted his two index fingers with a smile before moving to get up, ruffling Wilbur’s hair. “Be good to the little scamp, this family’s already crazy enough.”

-----------------------------------

Wilbur zipped up his guitar case as he grabbed his keys and the small bag of coins. Looking out the window, he could see the nightclubs and bars, restaurants and torched streetlamps slowly flicker to life, glowing against the dark sky. Like a whole new town lying just beneath the surface, revealed in the darkness. Sally walked over with his gloves and scarf, a gentle sad smile on her face as Wilbur took the wool gloves and pulled them on.

“Every time you leave, I miss you just a little more.” Sally said, wrapping the scarf around Wilbur’s neck and folding it neatly in front. “Do you have to go?” Wilbur warmly smiled as he gently cupped her cheek.

“You know I’ll never be far, my salmon.” He kissed her forehead tenderly as he brushed a bit of stray hair behind her ear. “You’ll close your eyes and when you wake up I’ll be right by your side, you’ll barely even notice I left.” Sally leaned in closer as Wilbur wrapped his arms around her comfortingly, his chin resting gently on her head. As they pulled away Sally’s eyes looked up to his, a worry and fear behind her gaze that seized Wilbur’s heart.

“Promise you’ll be safe?”

“When am I ever not safe?” Wilbur asked, leading Sally to cross her arms and look at him with a slight pout that made Wilbur laugh. “Okay, okay. I promise.”

With one final goodbye kiss, Wilbur shut the bedroom door behind him again, walking downstairs. He noticed Tommy sat on the couch, head in his hands and his blonde hair messed. He looked over to his younger brother, gently propping up his guitar against the stair railings. “It’s late, what are you doing up?”

“Nightmare.” Tommy mumbled, slightly sleepily.

“Do you... wanna talk about it-?”

“I’m not seven anymore, Wil. It was just a stupid nightmare, I can handle it on my own.”

Wilbur was quiet for a moment, processing what Tommy said, how he snapped at him. He sighed before looking over to meet the teen’s eyes. “If you’re sure you’re alright…?” Tommy nodded before Wilbur pulled him into a small hug, Tommy’s hand held onto his arms around him in comfort as he smiled slightly despite his current state.

“Heh. Thanks, Wil.”

“That’s what big brothers are for, right?” Wilbur smiled as he pulled away. “Don’t stay up too late, okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I guess I’ll be off.” Wilbur said, getting up from the couch to grab his guitar once more, throwing the straps over his shoulders. “That gig won’t play itself.”

“Good luck, Wil.” Tommy called before Wilbur turned, his heart warm and happy, giving him a smile and thanking him before taking his leave into the cold night air.

------------------------------------------------

“Thank you, you’ve been an amazing audience!” Wilbur said as cheers erupted from around the pub. Moving off the stool, he grabbed his guitar by the neck and sauntered offstage, feeling happy with his performance. Within 30 minutes he managed to squeeze in four songs, which to his delight the crowd seemed to enjoy - at Melrose the tap was never empty, and as such the crowd was easily angered by the slightest things, or even nothing at all. The only somewhat mishap during his slot was when a bit of beer had splashed against his clothes thanks to a patron who had a little too much. They were quickly shown the door and the night resumed its somewhat peaceful pleasure.

He walked up to the bar and sat in the corner with his guitar, watching the next musician take the stage - it looked like a band from the amount of people. Wilbur knew he wouldn’t get paid in full until the end of the night after each performance was done, Melrose wanted to make sure they held up their end of the bargain instead of running off what the money. He had at least another hour in here before closing.

“Are you drinking or not?” Wilbur looked up to the bartender as he stared down at him, expecting some kind of response. He wasn’t exactly a big drinker, quite the opposite - the only times he’s ever drank were with Phil and Sally. Sally, once when they were both eighteen just to try it out - he winced remembering the monster hangover the morning after. Phil around a year ago when he turned twenty-one and they both shared a few beers together in celebration. Both times he’d gotten tipsy pretty easily, either because he wasn’t exactly used to drinking yet or because he was a natural lightweight, who knows. Either way, he wasn’t exactly going to risk getting drunk right now.

“Uhm, I’ll have a club soda, thanks.”

The bartender gave him a once-over, put off by his request before slightly shrugging his shoulders. “Suit yourself, buddy.”

“Alright, we’re Black Rose and we hope you enjoy the set! This first song is called ‘Sleepless’.” A guy spoke into the microphone, turning to his friends with a smile before counting them in as the music began to blast through the pub. It was a nice tune, and Wilbur found his foot unconsciously tapping along with the music. He closed his eyes and let the sound fill his ears as they began to sing the chorus. It felt right. There was a kind of emotional distress behind the singer's voice, in the twinge of his tone or in a voice crack or two that almost felt like magic.

“And I’m not going blind, I just keep falling, falling behind; 

Time goes slow and fast, my heart’s pumping and my head has crashed; 

Sit in silence and pretend like your demons are your friends; 

Your thoughts are racing while you’re pacing, it’s all in your mind, sleepless~!”

“Hey Wil, you got a minute?” Wilbur jolted back at how close the voice was, as he looked over to see none other than Melrose - her blonde hair flowed down her back messily with a ruby red dress that complimented her blue eyes. She pursed her lips into a line, a signal she was thinking as her pen tapped against the clipboard in her hand. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s, uh, it’s fine. What’s up, Mel? Hope my performance was up to par.”

Her lips formed back to a comfortable smirk. “Performance was great as always, Wilbur. You never cease to please.” Her eyes turned down toward her clipboard. “Though I’m afraid I can’t say the same for everybody. Tips came up a little short thanks to a few blanks, I’ve got to decrease your pay for tonight.”

Wilbur’s eyebrows furrowed. “Mel, you promised.”

“Look, Wil I’m sorry but there’s nothing I can do.” Melrose let out a sigh, rubbing her temple in frustration. “I’m barely making enough to pay as is.”

As she turned to leave, Wilbur quickly grabbed her wrist to stop her. “Mel, you don’t understand, I need the cash.”

Melrose sighed, rolling her eyes. “Don’t we all.” She snapped slightly, yanking back her arm. “I told you I can’t do anything-”

“Rosie, come quick!” One of the bodyguards interrupted as he approached with a sword slung over his back. “Charlie’s getting wasted in the back, someone gave him vodka…”

“Goddammit, not again. Can’t that bastard ever get sober?” She huffed, giving Wilbur one last look before slipping back into the crowd. Fuck. Well, there goes a whole extra gig’s pay - with the pub’s restock he won’t be able to pay off everything now even if he had work twice each week...dammit. The due date was in April, he still had time. He could probably get another job while the pub’s down, he’ll have to check the town bulletin on his way home later. He turned back to his club soda, letting out a defeated sigh.

Guess I’ll be away from home more than I thought. 

A scream from outside quickly tore Wilbur from his thoughts as he turned toward the sound.

-------------------------------------

Philza was a light sleeper. Being on the road and sleeping the wilderness had always made him jump at the slightest hint of danger, a sort of survival instinct that developed. It only increased when Techno and Wilbur came around, for the first time in his life he had someone else to protect and look out for than just himself, more he could lose. He guessed that’s why he jumped the gun a bit at teaching them how to fight so early - If he couldn’t be there in time, he wanted for them to be able to protect themselves. Even so, his instincts from way back then never stopped, which was most likely why the head of the family was awake now.

Muffled sounds came from below him, shuffling. Something was here, and whatever it was it wasn’t good. His heart beat quicker as adrenaline rushed into his veins. He grabbed his sword, leaned against the wall, and crept down the hallway silently. It was dark in the house, he could barely see a few feet in front of him as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. He couldn’t hear the noise anymore, which only heightened his senses as his heart beat faster.

Then, a groan which sent him backing up - that was much, much closer than before. Suddenly, he bumped into something that grabbed his arm and without thinking he swept his feet under whatever it was, sending them to the floor. “Ugh… hey to you too, Phil.”

He looked down and noticed his oldest moving to stand back up from where he fell against the floorboards, rubbing the back of his head. “Techno…?” He asked before quickly helping him up. “What are you doing, you scared me!”

“I was checking out the noise, same as you.” Technoblade said before readjusting his grip on his own sword. “Remind me to never spar with you when you’re in attack mode.”

“Will do.” Phil smirked. Both quickly tensed as they heard shuffling and groaning from down below, clear enough for the two to recognize the noise instantly. They looked to each other, eyes wide. Zombies. Where there’s one there’s bound to be more around in minutes. “Get Tubbo and Tommy, I’ll get Sally.” Technoblade nodded before turning and rushing off behind Phil as he rushed toward the end of the hallway, toward Sally and Wilbur’s room. Phil didn’t know how they managed to have a breach in the walls, but however it occurred it meant one thing - the next ten minutes were the difference between life and death.

He entered the room to see one of the rotting creatures standing over the shifter, who decked it clean across the face, her ears scanning her surroundings, green goop covering her hand. She turned to face Phil, who rushed forward and pushed his blade through the zombies’ skull, killing it for good. Both panted heavily as Phil checked her over, worried. “Are you okay, did it bite you?”

“No, no. I’m good.” Sally reassured him as she looked around the room. “Where’s Wil?”

“I...I don’t know, but... I’m sure he’s safe, wherever he is.” Phil said, trying his best to push his own worries out of his mind.

“Wait, he’s not back yet?” Sally’s eyes grew wide at the realization as her body tensed in worry. “He’s out there, with… with…”

“Wilbur knows how to handle himself.” Phil reassured her, worry growing in the back of his head and forming an uncomfortable spot in his stsomach. “For now we need to be more worried about ourselves - If we’re going to survive until morning we need to barricade the house, and fast.” Phil said, grabbing her by the wrist as they rushed back out into the hallway, Phil chopping another zombie’s head clean off its skull as they rushed past it toward the stairs. He could see Tommy and Tubbo wielding their swords as they tore through zombie after zombie in the living room, somehow making it into a sort of game as they smiled and laughed. Technoblade, on the other hand, moved chairs and tables against the two doors to block them watching his back as a zombie stauntered toward him, and he swept his legs under the creature and quickly curb stomped its skull, slimy green goo flowing into the wooden floor. Phil tossed Sally an axe that she caught quickly, feeling the weight in her hands and happy to have a weapon. “Clear out the ones inside.”

“Got it.”

Tommy jumped from the couch onto a tall zombie, piercing it through the chest and pinning it with his sword to a nearby wall. “Ha! Top that, idiot!” He shouted trumphantly toward Tubbo, who’s eyes lit up competitively as he attempted to hack a nearby zombie in half and managed to get his sword stuck.

“Uhm…”

Sally rushed in, ignoring the tender soreness in her tired body as she hacked the zombie’s head clean off with her axe as its body slumped to the floor. Quickly and effortlessly, she pulled out the lodged weapon and handed it to Tubbo. “Be more careful, yeah?”

“Uh… yeah, yeah…” Tubbo said sheepishly as he took his weapon back and Sally rushed to finish off Tommy’s pinned zombie. With a few strikes, it was down. Tommy grabbed his sword to get it free, tugging harshly to no avail. He got more anxious with each tug as Sally faceplamed.

“You stupid-” She muttered, handing him her axe. “Finish off the last two with Tubbo, and try not to lose another weapon, okay?” Tommy huffed in slight protest before Sally gave him a look and he rolled his eyes, taking the weapon and running off.

“I don’t think it’s gonna hold!” Technoblade yelled as he threw his back against the door, pushing it closed against what must have been around twenty zombies pushing and trying to get in with any means necessary. Sally looked over to Phil, who looked around frantically, trying to think of a plan, any plan at all. “Phil?”

“Phil, what do we-?”

A loud crash erupted - a broken window. Danger. Phil’s grip tightened on his sword as he began to shout orders. “Tommy, Tubbo, hold the back door NOW! Sally, stay behind me.” Phil’s tone was tense and sharp, and the two teen boys rushed like mice to do as he asked. “We just need a little more time, it’s gotta hold a little longer…” At this point, he was hoping for some kind of miracle. This wasn’t just a regular breach - this was a massacre. Rushing forward, he pushed the shadow in the dim light down to the floor, and quickly raised his axe to bring it down when-

“Wait wait wait-! I’m not one of them!”

Phil’s eyes squinted in the light to find… Wilbur. He looked like a mess, his clothes torn and ripped with green slimy goo staining the fabric. Phil’s eyes watered in relief as he quickly pulled his son in for a tight embrace, helping him up off the floor. “Thank god, don’t ever scare me like that again.”

“Good to see you too, Dad.” Wilbur smiled before the two let go, his eyebrows furrowed and his tone more serious. “These aren’t regular zombies, they’re stronger and more resilient. Last I checked they were taking down the square one house at a time, and from the looks of it most of them were not prepared for a visit.”

“...Fuck.” Phil cursed under his breath, his mind beginning to race once again. Did they have a chance?

“I ran as fast as I could to get here, I was so worried…” Wilbur said as Sally rushed forward to embrace him with a smile, running her hands down his face and through his hair, afraid she’d lose it again. Wilbur, in turn ran his hands down her arms, his smile brightening that it was real and alive and here-

“Good to see you’re not dead, Wil.” Tommy huffed against the door as the monsters on the other side growled and moaned, pushing their weight and strength against it. “But we have a bit of a situation here!”

“We need to get out of here.” Wilbur looked over to Phil. “If we stay any longer, we’ll be trapped. Once we’re out of here we can run into the forest to hide and wait out the horde.”

“But both exits-”

The two elder brothers looked at their father and answered at the same time in surprise. “The second floor window.” They turned to each other, sharing a brief smile. Technoblade looked over to Phil once more, his mind and heart racing as the voices in his head boomed louder, and he tried his best to ignore their shouts. 

“Look, it’s risky, I know, but we’ve gotta try. We don’t have time.” He winced and grunted as the zombies on the other side of the wall grew more violent in their animalistic attempts to break in. Phil looked at his family’s faces, hints of fear and uncertainty in their expressions. Tommy’s arm went to stop Tubbo from falling over at a particularly forceful blow, and as Tommy’s nerves increased he could see Tubbo holding his hand and giving it a squeeze. Technoblade’s heels dug into the wooden floor as chairs, tables and wooden boards began to splitter under the force of the creatures outside. Wilbur pressed a soft kiss to Sally’s forehead as Sally’s hand drifted to her stomach instinctively at this point, her eyes filled with nothing but worry. He knew this was crazy, but if it meant that there was a chance they’d be safe, he’d risk it.

“Alright. Wilbur, make sure the window’s open and we have a clear way down. Everyone else, get ready to run.”

----------------------------------------

Wilbur’s heart stopped as he saw the creature’s teeth sink into Phil’s neck as he let out a scream in agony. Shit, shit, shit… he didn’t know where they came from, they blocked the stairs as they ran up, why didn’t he see it?! The zombie that bit Phil fell to the ground with a thud as Phil’s own blood seeped down his shoulder and stained his shirt. Techno stilled as he made eye contact with his father, who looked sad, knowing his fate. “Phil, I’m so sorry, I-” Wilbur trembled, his hand reaching out toward Phil, not knowing what to do, what to say. Phil’s head shook back and forth slightly before pushing his sword into Wilbur’s hands.

“You two need to go. Now. Before you lose the chance.”

Technoblade was stone faced. “Phil, we’re not leaving you-”

“There’s no time to discuss this, I said GO-!” Phil shouted sternly before going into a coughing fit, holding himself steady against the wall. Wilbur stepped forward, wanting to grab his hand, help him before Phil recoiled. “Wil… Techno… you need to go, that’s an order.” Silence fell over the two brothers, not wanting to leave their father. “Look, they’re not going to attack me now but they will attack you, now MOVE IT!”

Shuffling and groans grew behind them as Phil winced, feeling the infection flow through his body. They needed to get out before he turned, they needed to live, he wanted them to live-

“But what about you?”

Phil looked over to his sons with a sad smile. “I think I’ve taught you both enough to know what happens now.” Suddenly it felt like all the air in the room vanished. “Now do me proud and show me what we do if someone gets bit. Show me what I’ve taught you.” Phil could feel himself getting lightheaded, he was going to pass out, but he couldn’t… not until they both were safe.

Wilbur didn’t know what to do as he looked to Techno then to Phil, who slowly lowered himself to the floor, his back leaning against the walls of the home he built for them. Techno’s fists tightened as he turned to face his brother. “Techno…?”

“Get somewhere safe, okay?” His voice was heavy, serious. “Promise me you’ll get somewhere safe.”

“I… I will, I promise.” Wilbur said, trying to look at his brother to see if he had any plan. “But what are we going to-?” Before he knew what was happening, Techno shoved him through the window, closing and locking it firmly behind him. Wilbur began to panic, realizing what Technoblade was doing and trying to find some kind of grip before he slipped off the roof and landed in the bushes, pain and bruises blossoming on his body. Tubbo helped him up off the ground as Tommy’s eyes looked up to the window, confused. 

“Where’s Phil and Tech?”

Tears pricked at the edges of Wilbur’s eyes as he felt his heart begin to throb without them here. Why, why why… Why did he stay? Why didn’t he let him stay? Why wasn’t he careful enough? It’s all his fault-

“Wil…?” Tommy’s voice wavered. “Where’s Technoblade and Phil?”

At that moment, Wilbur knew things changed forever. Phil and Techno were gone, they were gone and they were never coming back. He told Technoblade, he promised him that he’d get all of them somewhere safe, and with a heavy heart Wilbur knew it wasn’t here, not anymore. He wasn’t going to lose anyone else, he was going to protect them. He was going to protect all of them, if it was the last thing he’d ever do. That very moment what Techno said to him finally made sense.

‘If things go bad, you’ll know what to do, Wilbur.’

Right now, he wanted, more than anything in the world, to get them out of here. Tubbo and Tommy shared awkward glances as Wilbur took a deep breath for a moment, sniffling and wiping the tears from his eyes. Sally looked towards him concerned as Wilbur slid his hand into hers, looking towards his brothers with the same look and tone Phil had. 

“We need to go. Now.”

[hypnoticwinter]

Down the Rabbit Hole part 33

“Fumi?”

“Yeah?”

“Tell me a story.”

“A story?” he says, glancing over. In the vent there’s nothing but the soft squelching of our cleated feet and a drip-drip-drip of a flowing river of sluggish, phlegmy mucus running along a divot over on the left. I nod.

“Yeah, a story. Like, about work. Ranger stuff. I’m sure you’ve got some good stories.”

He laughs. “A few, maybe,” he concedes.

Getting across into the actual flesh of the Pit from the wreck of the LVC had been easier than either of us had thought it would be. The gantry we had been looking for was long gone by the time that we got to the bottom of the LVC, with the only evidence of its passing being a couple of rigid metal rods and torn, rusted grating, but above us was our lucky break – due to the way the Visitor Center had fallen, it had actually cut into the Pit’s gullet on the way down, leaving a long, jagged scar of porous tissue in its wake and, at the very bottom, a gaping, partially-healed hole leading directly into what Fumi said was once the trail downwards to the Gastric Sea. It was a little hairy to begin with; the wound had ruined the previously neat trail, and the Pit had begun to reclaim it. Paths branched off, seemingly at random, that our maps had no record of. Here and there we’d see skittering things darting away from our flashlights, fleeing into pores or deeper, smaller vents we couldn’t see into.

Just copepods, Fumi had said when I asked. Harmless unless you’re alone and they’re feeling particularly brave or hungry. But even so I noticed that he kept his hand resting comfortably on the butt of his pistol, ready to draw it at a moment’s notice, and so I emulated him, and kept a wary eye behind us as we picked our way through the nest of tunnels and warrens and veins.

After I while I became afraid that we might hit a dead end and that we’d not be able to get through to the trail proper, which Fumi said would curve up and around down to the ballast bulbs, but just when I was getting to the point where I thought I might say something about it the vent widened out and Fumi had let out a triumphant whoop. We’re on the right track now, he had assured me, pointing to where we were on the map, and I had let a little involuntary shudder of relief pass over me because finally, finally we could really get going.

Now we’re clambering through a stinking vent that once housed a pedestrian trail. The thing Fumi hadn’t really mentioned is how long it would take. The path that looked so easy and short was in actuality four or five miles, a solid two or three hour hike in an environment like the Pit. My leg is holding up alright so far, especially now that I’m doing less running and jumping and falling, but I don’t think I’ll be able to do more than a couple days’ worth of this. Even with the boot I put my foot down occasionally and get a worrying, bone-deep twinge like a jolt of electricity, feeling like it’s running up some magic conduit from my heel all the way to the top of my head.

You can still see the remains of the trail here and there. Plastic placards, partially dissolved and stained beyond legibility, peeking out from behind masses of tumorous flesh. Rusty chain-link here and there, little strips of it grown over by pale, moisture-slick skin. If you look too closely at anything down here you shudder.

“Alright, I’ve got a story for you,” Fumi says. “Most of the work we do involves escorting supplies down to the deeper installations within the Pit, looking after science teams, making sure nothing and nobody bothers the few little extractions operations for stuff like ballast and bone plates. It’s a lot of wildlife control, basically. Very, very occasionally we’d do interdiction stuff. People get in, try to hide out in here, do all kinds of crap. I remember hearing a story about some guys who were running a drug lab in a trailer out on the very edge of the restricted area on the surface. Only got busted because Makado had to rush out somewhere in a hurry for something or other, I don’t remember what exactly, and she took a helicopter and they happened to fly right over. That really made her crack down on the topside ranger teams, let me tell you.”

“Topside?”

“So basically there are two teams,” he explains. “Us, the Sergeant’s team, we’re Venterial Ops. Anything underground, inside the Pit, we handle. That’s why we have Elena, for example. I don’t know if she told you but her main specialization is cave diving, she used to be in the Coast Guard. The other team is larger, they hang out in the other barracks topside. Overland Ops patrols the surface of the restricted area, handles anything that doesn’t concern the actual Pit itself. A lot of people don’t realize this but the restricted area isn’t just, you know, the Pit, it covers a whole lot of the ground above as well. You need manpower if you’re going to patrol it. With me so far?”

“Yes,” I nod. “So the overland team, they never go down into the Pit?”

“Oh, they train in it occasionally,” Fumi says, waving his hand. “But not to the extent that we do. It’s expensive and difficult and time-consuming just because the Pit is not a particularly good environment to make mistakes in. What if you can’t recognize a digestive pit or a triocanth sign? I mean, there are so many ways to die down here if you’re careless, especially now that we’ve cut down on our impact down here so much. If you’re stuck down here your options are either getting to the Control Center, getting to one of the very few listening stations and outposts we still have down in the depths of the Pit, or trying to call for help. That’s it.”

“So it’s easier logistically to have two separate groups like that?”

“Yeah, exactly. It hurts the overhead a little but if everybody was Pit-trained they’d be spending even more on them, so…”

“Right,” I say. There’s a long stringy mass of fibrous tissue stretching from the roof to the pitted ground, and I duck around it, let Fumi pass behind. “So what was the story?”

“Oh, right. So we were escorting some science folks down to that listening station in Oyster’s Shame. Shift change, essentially, except they way they do it is two weeks on, two weeks off. They rotate like that, make sure nobody’s spending too much time down in the Pit, that kind of thing. There are health checks that they have to do. If you’re in Science, half the time you’re up in a lab over in the science building doing egghead things and the other half you’re down here in a lab doing egghead things,” he laughs.

“Six of one, half a dozen of the other,” I suggest, and Fumi nods.

“Exactly. So we’re taking these guys down, pretty simple trip, one we’ve all done dozens of times. One of the science guys is new, and he is just absolutely gushing over everything he’s seeing down here. Some sort of environmental scientist type, real nerd. Not that there’s anything wrong with being a nerd but sometimes you just – certain people fulfill the stereotype more than other people, right? Anyway, Crookshank decides to play a prank on the guy. We’re taking a break for lunch and Crookshank pretends to lick a nerve ending in the wall. Now, first off, don’t ever do that, but Crookshank is – was – a maniac and you can’t keep him down. This egghead sees Crookshank do it (of course, he didn’t actually do it, just pretended to) and starts to freak out, but Crookshank is like ‘oh, it’s cool, it enhances the flavor in these MREs, you should try it.’ And of course Slate gets in on it, because Slate has – er, had – the mind of a middle-schooler and can’t resist clowning around, and together they gradually convince this nerd that it makes your standard run-of-the-mill MRE taste orgasmic.”

“Why shouldn’t you lick nerve endings?”

“Have you seen anything down here that you’d want to lick?”

I try unsuccessfully not to think of Elena and end up just shaking my head.

“But on top of that,” Fumi continues, “Pit nerve fibers can do weird things to the human nervous system. Not usually permanent or even really harmful things…just weird things. A big one was an ability to see into the ultraviolet spectrum. You might have heard about that; they made some big breakthroughs in optics in the 80s thanks to experiments with Pit nervous tissue. But there can be weirder stuff too – occasionally you’d see some spooky things going on in the Cord thanks to all the nerve tissue there. Intrusive thoughts, ‘occult’ stuff like objects levitating, seeing things out of the corner of your eye, ‘hauntings…’ in some places down here there are still little alarms that go off if they read too much nervous activity. So you can imagine that it might be a bad idea to lick one.”

“What happened to the guy?” I ask. The further we’ve gotten the more horribly rank the air has grown, to the point where we both have put on our helmets. The path we’re following opens out after a torturously twisting, intestine-like track and we find a series of bulbous, swollen sacs protruding from the floor and the walls, filled with a noxious, chunky liquid a lot like raw vomit. I can feel my gorge rising and I fix my eyes resolutely on my feet and end up just taking shallow breaths through my mouth for the long ten or so minutes it takes for Fumi to guide me through to the other side. We squeeze through a rough, suppurating sphincter and find a set of stairs, so rusty and dilapidated they might as well have come straight out of a Silent Hill game. Here and there long strands or trickles of flesh have melted or grown through the chain-link cage surrounding the stairs and pooled in rough, saggy, wrinkled puddles on the floor. It’s such an unspeakably bizarre image that we both stop and stare at them.

“I bet those feel…absolutely horrible to step on,” Fumi says.

“I’m not stepping on any of those,” I murmur.

“And with the cleats…” Fumi continues.

“Oh god,” I say, wrinkling my nose. A particularly swollen one seems to glisten at me. “Why does it do that? Why does it grow stuff like this?”

“Why does the Pit do anything?” Fumi shrugs, jerking his head forwards. “At least we’re on the right track. This is the staircase down to the ballast bulbs.”

“Is it even safe to walk on?”

“Do you see a different option?”

“Fair point,” I grunt. I take a ginger step forward and put my weight on the stairs, cringing inwardly. My foot nudges against one of the nodules of flesh. I can feel it pressing against me through the fabric of the suit. I grimace and take another step, and then another. “Come on,” I tell him. “Let’s just get this over with.”

We get a couple of flights down before I remember. “Oh, right – what happened to the guy?”

“Which guy?”

“You know,” I say. “The nerd who licked the nerve ending.”

“Oh, right. It made him see…something. Gave him the fright of his life, ended up pissing himself in his suit.”

“Oh,” I say. I had been expecting something funny but this just seems sad. Fumi reads it in my face, nods at me.

“Yeah,” he says. “Elena actually got really pissed off at Crookshank for that one. They’ve never liked each other very much but that little stunt kind of pushed her over the edge. They got in a shouting match right there and the Sergeant had to break it up.”

I can’t stop myself from smiling. “That’s my girl,” I murmur.

“Well…”

“Well what?”

“Uh, well it turned out that she was sleeping with the nerd and that’s why she was so heated about it.”

I look at Fumi for a moment and then burst out laughing. “You’re not serious.”

“Dead serious.”

I think about it and then shrug. “What?” I ask. “Am I supposed to get jealous?”

“I just find it so strange that you aren’t.”

“That’s in the past,” I tell him. “I don’t care what she did before we met, I care about how she treats me. I mean, she has to have treated me pretty well to get me to risk my life for her like this.”

“True,” Fumi admits. “Or maybe you just don’t value your life very much.”

Before I can think of a response that would be both truthful and a denial of the accuracy of that statement, Fumi takes a step forward. As he puts his weight down on the next step the staircase groans sonorously and we both freeze. I feel a little stab of fear piercing the bottom of my stomach and reach over quickly to grab the guardrail, for all the good it’ll do me. We stand there frozen for a minute, maybe two, waiting for the entire thing to collapse, and when it isn’t forthcoming I slowly, gradually unclench my insides and put my weight back on the step.

“Jesus,” I murmur.

“Yeah, these are probably a little unsafe.”

“You think?”

The next four flights go by quickly. The blobs of flesh haven’t spread this far down, or at least they haven’t yet. The meat beyond the retaining walls, buckled in places, is a strange, waxy tone that makes it look like it’s fake. If it didn’t shudder and writhe in time with whatever alien rhythms govern the Pit’s heartbeat I’d think it were a model.

Ahead of us, rising like vapor off a bog, I can smell the stench of ballast, combined with the familiar meaty Pit-smell pervading the air, along with something earthy and sour that lingers at the back of my throat. It makes my heart race and my gorge rise simultaneously. That accidental encounter with Crookshank in the ballast bulb…I had never been so scared or so turned on in my entire life. The memory of it leaves me vaguely nauseous.

“You doing okay?” Fumi asks, nudging me.

“I’m fine,” I murmur through gritted teeth. I do not want to throw up in this helmet. I take a deep breath and then let it out. I’m okay. It’s going to be fine. Elena is down here and the ballast totally healed her and everything is fine, just peachy-keen. We’re going to kiss and hold hands all the way out of here and then…

“Do you really think she’s down here?” Fumi asks.

“Where else would she be?” I say. “It’s either here or she’s dead somewhere and I’m still trying to be optimistic at least.”

Fumi says something else but I’m not paying attention. We’ve finally reached the landing, and past a pair of crooked, bent, rusted doors is something that must have once been a utility corridor for servicing the machinery used to keep the ballast pools running. The entire corridor is so thickly covered with dense, clustered mushrooms that I can scarcely see any surface that isn’t completely blotted out by coarse white fungous flesh.

“Shit,” Fumi murmurs.

The acrid, weird smell is stronger down here and I’ve finally recognize it – it’s the reek of those horrible, throat-coating spores from the nightmare of the fungal jungle deep down in the Pit’s rancid guts, where Marcus and Peter and Erica and – and Klaus had died.

Where I had killed Klaus.

Thinking about it makes me shiver. This past day – there hasn’t been time to think. Everything has been sweeping me along with the same force and velocity as a riptide. I haven’t had time to – to acknowledge it.

Unbidden, the image of him clapping his hand to his throat springs to my mind. The gun had felt like a dead weight in my hand. It hadn’t even felt like my hand, it had felt like I was controlling it at a distance, like I was playing a video game. I remember the way his eyes had widened in shock and how he had staggered back, the knife clattering out of his trembling hands. He had tried to swipe at me with it even then but the strength had left him.

I’ve already sealed my suit. I hadn’t wanted to waste the filters or the battery before by running the rebreather but these spores aren’t going to give us a choice. I don’t want to be hallucinating again.

At the end of the hallway is a door. It takes the two of us some serious effort to pry it open, levering at the rusted, mossy handle, but once we get it open we stumble into what must have once been one of the main baths. The fungus grows here too, in greater size and density. There are things living here; a dozen little things scurry and hop and slither away from us, darting away from the reach of our flashlight beams. Some of the mushrooms, the bigger blue-veined ones with the caps that look like they’re melting, visibly deflate as we rake our lights over them, puffing out clouds of hazy spores.

“I’m not sure that Elena’s here,” Fumi says softly, looking around. I feel my insides tighten even as he says it.

A massive hole has broken open in the tile over on the far end of the pool. I think I see something within it move. I reach over and tug at Fumi’s sleeve. “Fumi,” I hiss. “Did you see that?”

“See what?”

“Over there,” I point. “Inside that big fucking hole, I thought I saw –“

“Whatever you saw,” Fumi tells me, “it wasn’t Elena. If she even came down here, she’d have taken one look at it and then turned right around and left. You said that Erica took her helmet. Look at all these spores. Do you think that –“

“God damn!” something cries out of the murk and darkness down at the far end of the pool. The milk-white ballast seethes incontinently beneath the wan glare of our flashlights, and I can feel the bottom drop out of my stomach. “God damn!” it repeats.

“That’s Elena,” I say.

“Roan, no,” Fumi says. I shoot him a look like he’s gone mad.

“Listen to her,” I tell him. “That’s her voice! I’d know it anywhere.”

As if to punctuate my argument, the voice cries out again. “Oh god! Oh fuck!”

I charge forward, stomping into the ballast with reckless abandon. “Elena!” I call out. My heart is jumping in my chest and I have to consciously force myself not to grin madly. Elena is here! God, she’s here! I was right, she did come to the ballast bulbs, she did –

“God damn!”

“Roan, stop!” Fumi yells from behind me. I can hear him starting to stomp after me but I don’t have an iota of brainpower left to devote to the question of why he’d want to stop me. The ballast ripples around my legs, but it’s relatively shallow, at least this end of the pool. I hope I don’t have to swim in it to get to her.

“God damn!”

“Elena, I’m coming!”

“STOP! Roan, it’s a –“

My foot catches against something in the ballast and I lose my balance. I try to catch myself on my hands but the pool deepens just ahead of me and I end up pitching face-first into the murk. “Goddam,” I mumble. I don’t know what I tripped on, it feels like a log or something, but that doesn’t make a ton of sense to be down here. What is –

The log wriggles to life and wraps itself around my ankle. I have enough time to let out a small, terrified squeak before it whips me bodily off my feet and starts tugging me through the ballast towards the hole in the tile. I hear a splash from behind me as Fumi wades it, and I realize that I’m screaming.

Another rope or vine or tentacle joins the first, and this one fixes around the thigh of my other leg. I reach down, fighting against the thing’s pull, and get my hands on my pistol. I jerk it out of the holster so fast that I almost lose it, flick the safety off, and then fire off three rounds into the darkness lurking where the tentacles converge, but I don’t think I hit anything. Another tentacle seizes around my wrist and though I try to get loose, I end up dropping the gun.

Fumi calls out from behind me but I can’t pull myself together enough to answer him. Another tentacle has fixed around my midriff, another around my neck, and it squeezes so tightly that almost immediately I see stars bursting in my eyes and everything goes off-kilter like the world’s been tilted.

My flashlight skews across the face of the thing that’s tugging me in and for a moment I can’t comprehend it. It looks like a…a flower, all folds and delicate fleshy petals, but the colors are off. I can’t think, I’m not getting enough oxygen.

A mouth opens in the center of the flower, unfolding like a piece of origami. I see delicate, foot-long, razor-sharp teeth, almost translucent in the light.

The tentacles around my neck and leg loosen, and then drop me entirely. I smack into the surface of the ballast and rapidly sink under. I’m still too woozy to do much about it other than flail my arms helplessly. The air is hot and stuffy in this helmet and I can feel a tingle somewhere along the side of my ribcage, accompanied by a stinging wetness that makes me realize my suit has a hole and ballast is leaking in.

I can’t think, my brain feels like it’s been unplugged. I’m going to drown inside my suit down here and I can’t do anything about it –

The last tentacle loosens and slips away and then I feel hands tugging at my arms. Without thinking I cling to them, the slippery ballast making my grip clumsy. I batter against my rescuer, trying to get a grip on them. There’s a horrendous noise filling the air, making the ballast vibrate with the force of it. Amid the torrent of sound I can hear someone yelling at me, telling me to stop, and when I crack my eyes open I see Fumi tugging me closer to him and trying to swim us away at the same time. I get my arm around his waist and we both dip under.

“Fuck this,” he says when I come up next and then he cocks his arm back and punches me in the side of the head. I go limp immediately and for the next few minutes I am not quite unconscious but I am definitely woozy enough to let Fumi drag me bodily out of the pool and then pick me up and carry me out of that horrible room and back to the staircase we came in at.

I manage to hobble up two flights of stairs on my own before I stumble and Fumi has to let me lean on him to get up another two. Up here the air is clearer and I can finally pop my helmet and breathe in deep, grateful gulps of it without feeling the spores trickling in and lining my throat. I sit down heavily on a step that isn’t encrusted with bloody moss and lichen and give Fumi a bleak look.

“I’ve been so fucking stupid,” I mutter. Fumi tries to put his arm around me but I shrug it off. “Goddam it, I’ve been so stupid.”

“Roan –“

“Fuck!” I shout. It echoes up and down the rickety staircase, my own voice reflected back at me in a mocking tone. My neck and arms are still sore and if I close my eyes I can feel that horrible thing’s tentacles or vines tugging tight around my throat and choking the life out of me…

“Roan,” Fumi tries again. “You aren’t stupid.”

“Elena was never down here,” I say. I can hear the cheerlessness in my voice. “She’s probably dead someplace ten minutes from the Cord. I should never have –“

“Roan!” Fumi barks. I look at him, not bothering to wipe my eyes.

“What?”

“Roan, you have to stop trying to throw your life away,” he says. His eyes are dark and serious and suddenly I find I can’t meet his gaze. “No, look at me,” he says.

“I’m really not into this paternal bullshit,” I start, but Fumi takes my head in his hands and very gently turns it so I don’t have any choice but to stare into his eyes. I almost slap him. At the very least I snarl out the beginning of an imprecation, but Fumi just stares me down. “I don’t –“ I start, but he shakes his head.

“Your life isn’t over,” he tells me. “You still have plenty to live for.”

“But if Elena’s dead –“

“Fuck Elena! Even if Elena were dead you’d have something to live for. When we find her do you think your relationship with her is going to last very long if you’re just hanging your entire existence off of her?”

“I – “

“I don’t need you flaking out on me right now,” he tells me. “When Ellis died, I –“

“Ellis?”

“Oh, fuck it. Forget it,” he says, standing up. “Do whatever the hell you want, you want to be a clingy son of a bitch when we get to Elena, be my goddam guest –“

“No, Fumi, I’m sorry, I didn’t –“

“Forget it, I said,” he tells me. My cheeks are burning. I’ve gone and broken the camel’s back. Of course him and Ellis were close, but…it doesn’t matter.

“Fumi, I didn’t mean –“

“Elena’s alive,” he says, his voice harsh. “Or at least she was, recently. Because ballast sirens can only repeat sounds they’ve heard. She probably pried open a door, took one look at that place, said ‘god damn!’ and ‘oh fuck!’ and left, and the siren’s probably been parroting it back for the better part of a day since then, hoping something would be stupid enough to wander into reach…”

“How was I supposed to know?” I yell. “How was I fucking supposed to know? I’ve never heard of a fucking ballast siren! I don’t know what they do!”

“I was yelling after you telling you not to go!” Fumi shouts. “If you had just fucking listened to me you wouldn’t have –“

“Yeah, well you fucking punched me!”

“I punched you,” he hisses, taking a step towards me, “because you were fucking panicking. You were going to drag me down with you and if I let you, we both would have died back there. I had to make you go limp, so I punched you! Of course you probably would have been okay with the two of us dying, given your fucking martyrdom fetish –“

“I don’t have a martyrdom fetish!”

“Then fucking act like it!”

“Fuck you!”

“You need to calm the fuck down,” he says, pointing a finger at me. “I can’t believe you talked me into this damn-fool errand. I had no idea you were such a –“

“Fucking leave, then,” I tell him. There’s a part of my brain screaming at me to stop, but I can’t stop. I’ve already let the words out. “If I’m so much of a fucking burden and too much of a loose cannon then fucking leave. Just go back up. I’ll find Elena myself.”

Fumi’s face falls. When he speaks his tone is gentler. “Look, I’m sorry,” he says. “I didn’t mean to –“

“Just go!” I yell, pointing up the stairs. “Just fuck off!”

“Roan, don’t do this.”

“Just leave!” I say. My voice is thick and raw and I realize that I’m crying. “I can do this myself! I don’t need you!”

“Roan, you –“

“Go!” I shriek, and then before I know it I’m clambering to my feet and pulling up my sleeves, clenching a fist and getting ready to swing at him. Everything’s taken on a red tinge, even redder than normal down here in the Pit, and the horrible throbbing thump of my heartbeat is ringing in my ears like an immense drum.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Fumi says, throwing up his hands, and then he turns and hurries up the stairs.

I stand there for a long, long while, breathing hard, letting all of my anger drain out of me. Eventually I feel empty enough to find a nice clear spot on the rusty steps, brush away the mushrooms and polypous clumps of pooled flesh and sit. I think about burying my head in my hands, but I don’t.

After a moment I take out my radio from its holster on my belt and look at it. Fumi had warned me not to even try anything with it, he’d said that it’d be easy for anyone listening in, such as the FBI or people in the Control Center, to triangulate my position and there’d be no guarantee Elena would even have a radio to respond with if I did try to call her.

But I don’t see another choice. My hand is shaking a little and I feel as though if I stand up I’d just fall right over again. If I don’t do something I’m going to have a panic attack.

I crack the radio up to its broadest range-band and hold down the broadcast button. I can’t think of what to say. Eventually I shake my head and then lick my lips and give it my best shot. “Elena?” I ask. My voice catches a little but I swallow hard and force it back down. “Elena, it’s Roan. If you’re – if you’re out there and you can hear this, l-let me know. Please.”

I let the button go and then wait, heart pounding. I try to keep myself from counting the seconds, but I can’t. Ten, fifteen, twenty, thirty. I stop after a minute and squeeze my eyes shut, trying to stop the hot tears from leaking from them. She’s not out there, she’s dead or trapped somewhere without a radio, I knew it was a long shot, I shouldn’t have even bothered. If I hadn’t bothered I could at least pretend that –

The radio clutched loosely in my hands crackles to life. I glare at it, half-expecting to hear Fumi chew me out for using the radio in the first place.

“Roan?” Elena says. “Oh, my god, Roan, baby, is that you? Oh god, is that you?”

Continue with Part 34

Back to Table of Contents

[angelliev]

Lover Boy - JJ Maybank x OC - Part One - Paradise on Earth

Word Count: 2K

Summary: Aria Prescott is new to the Outer Banks and is ready to make some new friends and new beginnings. What she wasn’t expecting was making some unforgettable memories with JJ Maybank. 

Warnings: Light smut, some cursing, alcohol/drug use and maybe some typos lol.

A/N: Thank you to anyone who takes the time to read this. This is my first time ever writing and publishing a fanfic so, I’m pretty excited and really nervous at the same time. I was inspired by the writers on here to finally put on my big girl pants and give this a shot. I'm really looking forward to see how this turns out. I’m planning on making this a series. Hope you like it! (Not my GIF. Credits to the owner. I don’t own the show or any of the characters) :)

Lover Boy Series Masterlist

“The Outer Banks. Paradise on Earth.” I used to think that was an exaggeration. I’m originally from Chapel Hill, so visiting the OBX was common. Now I’m living in Figure Eight. My parents wanted a change of scenery. So, what’s better than living in Paradise on Earth? To be honest, I really don’t mind. I already have a few friends I’ve known for a while who live here.

For example, would be Charis Donahue. We’ve been best friends since kindergarten. She’s an absolute wild card. Everyone who thinks they know her, thinks that she’s an innocent goody two shoes. Her real friends however, know that’s a load of bull. If you look up the word party animal in the dictionary, you’ll see a picture of Charis beside it. She’s the perfect combination of crazy, loyal and fun. That’s what makes her one of my best friends.

My other best friend is Sarah Cameron. The kook princess. Our parents are good friends, so I’ve known her for a while now. Speaking of now, we’re currently having brunch on the balcony of my new house. Charis scans her surroundings, for any adults before pouring a little bit of vodka into our glasses of orange juice before quickly shoving it back into her purse.

“Score.” Sarah praises the rebellious teen who raises her glass. “Cheers to Aria for finally getting her ass out here. Welcome to the Outer Banks love.” We all cheer and sip together, basking in the sun. “So, what are we doing tonight? Cause I’m bored out of my mind.” I confess. The two share a look.

“Well you’re in luck, because tonight we’re having a little get together at my place. My parents are flying to New Jersey for some charity event, so we have the place all to ourselves.” Charis smirks. “Nice, but what do you mean a little get together?” I asked curiously. “It’s just going to be us, Charis’s boyfriend, my boyfriend, and his friends, JJ, Pope and Kiara.” Sarah explains.

I’ve only met Charis’s boyfriend, Diego, once at a baseball game that took place in Chapel Hill. I’ve never met Sarah’s new boyfriend either, but I can tell she really likes him. She’s been talking about him nonstop ever since they started going out. I hung out with Kiara a few times during freshman year, when she and Sarah were friends, but then they had some weird blowout. Thankfully, they’re friends again, because it was kind of awkward talking to both of them when all they wanted to do was claw each other’s eyes out and I had to play the peacemaker.

“Sounds like fun. I can’t wait to finally meet this mystery stud you’re always rambling on about.” “Tonight will be epic.” Charis says. “How so?” Her helicopter of mother, Ingrid, startles the three of us. “We’re having a sleepover tonight.” Charis replies nonchalantly. She’s also a very good liar. “With who’s permission?”

“Dads’ of course.” This seems to annoy her mother. “Is that so Oscar?” Ingrid asked her husband, who was having a conversation with Ward and Claude, my dad. “Oh, come on honey. She’s old enough to host a sleepover with her friends for one night.” Oscar defends Charis, much to her mother’s dismay.

“There better not be any boys, alcohol or drugs at this sleepover.” Charis simply says okay and continues scrolling through pictures on social media before her Ingrid snatches it from her hands. “I’m serious Charis!” The two of them both had scolding eyes. “Okay! It’s just going to be us girls. I promise.” Charis snatches back the phone. Her mother scoffs and rolls her eyes before leaving us to speak with Rose. “God can she be any more annoying?” Charis grumbles under a hushed tone. “Yeah when is she not on your ass?” Sarah asked. “When she’s on my dad’s.” She replies. Both Sarah and I both scrunch our faces in disgust.

Hours later…

As of now, I’m going through my closest attempting to find something to wear. I finally decide on my black and white bikini, denim shorts, a white crochet coverup and sandals. Satisfied with my look, I grab my bag before heading out the door and down the street where I see Sarah parked outside.

“Hello my little splinter bean.” Sarah greets me with her odd nickname as I sit down in the remaining passenger seat. “Guys this is one of my best friends Aria. You already know Kie of course. This is my boyfriend John B.” He fist bumps me. “And this is his best friend JJ.” My breath hitched slightly when I looked at JJ. He’s got to be one of the most handsome guys I have ever seen with his blonde hair, tan skin, baby blue eyes and rather flirtatious smirk. I’m happy with the outfit choice I made, due to his eyes roaming up and down my body.

“Pleasure to meet you beautiful.” I raise an eyebrow at him. “Likewise, lover boy.” I can hear both John B and Sarah snickering up front. It was rather difficult to keep my cool, while being so close to JJ, our legs touching. I began wonder what the rest of his skin felt like. I was rather a little disappointed when the moment ended with us exiting the car and entering the house. We were surprised to see flames over the grill outside on the patio. “What’s good bitches?” Charis waves with a spatula and Diego sits at the bar.

“What the shit?!” The five of us say in union. Not too long after, Pope comes running in with the fire extinguisher in hand, disposing the flames.

“Jesus, what the hell were you numbskulls trying to cook?” Kie asked astonished. “Burgers, but that plan obviously went to shit…”. “Well it’s a good thing we brought beer.” JJ pops one open. “Thank god.” Says Diego.

For the rest of the night we all drank, swam, laughed and more. I genuinely enjoyed hanging out with them tonight. They’re a lot more fun than the kids at my school. I also liked catching JJ and his wandering eye. I think it was around one in the morning when everyone began to fall asleep. Me on the other hand was tossing and turning nonstop. Giving up on sleep I silently sneak out the room and to the pool where I dip my feet, enjoying the peace.

“Feeling a little restless, are we?” I turn to see JJ walking towards me. I let my eyes wander across his shirtless body. It’s a sight I could get used. He catches my gaze and smirks. “Yeah. You too?” He pulls out a blunt before lighting it. He rests it between his lips inhaling, holding the smoke in his lungs and finally releasing the toxic cloud into the warm night air. He sits next to me all close. “You want a hit?” He offers me the blunt. I was unsure at first, since I never smoked before, let alone weed. “First time for everything.” I sigh. “Atta girl.” I was definitely way over my head when I inhaled the burning smoke. I violently coughed, desperate for clean air. This earns a chuckle from him. “That shit burns.” I complain with watery eyes. “Takes some time to get used to. C’mere.”

He takes my face in his rough hands, with his thumb pushing down on my bottom lip. This time instead of exhaling the smoke into the air, it enters my mouth instead. Our lips barely brush against each other, very tempting to close the gap. This would make an interesting first kiss. I bite my lip when he pulls away. Not knowing what to do, I ask, “Wanna go for a swim?” letting my body fall into the water, waiting for him to come join me. He doesn’t disappoint when he jumps in too. I admire how his sun kissed skin gleams from the water and watch the droplets race down his muscular body.

He swims dangerously close to me, until my back hits the wall, trapping me. His hands grip my thighs before spreading them apart, before they find their way around his waist, leaving no space between us. Our lips are almost touching. My heart beats so fast I can practically hear it.  I grow impatient and pull him into a kiss. Our lips dancing against each other, our tongues intertwining, and our hips grinding together. Everything is so erotic and passionate, which leaves me craving more.

His skin against mine was electrifying, especially when his hand snuck up my back to undo my top exposing me. He licks his lips and begins to kiss his way down to breast, leaving hickies on the way. I let out a surprised moan when his mouth attaches to my left breast, while his hand plays with the other. It didn’t dawn on me until now that we moved past second base and were most likely going to skip third and straight to home run. After all, the only thing that’s separating us are the two swim bottoms.

Am I seriously about to lose my virginity in my best friend’s pool to a guy I just met? A guy who knows what he’s doing with his skilled mouth and hands. I should pull away before this goes any further, yet I continue to moan and encourage him to continue as his fingers disappear under my bikini bottom. Before he could venture even farther down there, we’re interrupted by surprise visitor.

“What the actual shit Aria?!” My head whips over to the voice, belonging to Jasper. Charis’s older brother. JJ acts quickly by withdrawing his hand, earning a whimper from me, and pulling me flush against his chest attempting to shield me from the poor guy who’s staring up at the sky. “Jasper what are you doing here?!” He gives me a dumbfounded look. “I live here? And I should be asking you the same thing.”

“We were having a little get together.” “Oh there’s a little get together all right.” He said with a judgmental tone, earning a chuckle from JJ, who’s face is nuzzled into my neck. “I take it my parents don’t know you guys invited a bunch of unexpected guests?” I don’t even bother to respond to that. He simply sighs. “Just get dressed and go to bed. Secret is safe with me.” He walks back into the house leaving the two of us alone once again. We both let out a mischievous laugh before our lips connect again.

“We should continue this later babygirl.” He playfully slaps my ass making me squeal. We sneak back into the room as quiet as possible, drying ourselves off before slipping under the covers.

He spoons me, to my surprise, bodies molding together perfectly. One of his hands sneak under and up my shirt cupping my breast, while the other slips under my panties. His long fingers begin to play with my folds and clit making my breath hitch. He finds my sweet spot again before nipping at it. I let out a whimper, the sensations all over my body are too much. “Quiet babygirl. Don’t want to wake up the others.” His hot breath reaches my ear.

I gasp when a finger slips into my folds testing the waters. I bite my lip attempting to remain silent as it thrust in and out of me. He adds another, curling his fingers. I began to wonder if I was having a dirty dream. It felt too good to be real. I then realized that it indeed was real when he started hitting the sweet spot buried deep inside me bringing me close to orgasm.

“Jay, I think I’m close.” He speeds up and uses his free hand to cover my mouth. “Cum for me babygirl. Cum all over my fingers. Imagine it being my cock.” His provocative words were all that I needed to finally release. My juices coat his fingers, which he brings to his mouth licking them clean. I’m seconds away from falling into a deep and satisfied slumber.

“I can’t wait to taste more of you. For now, go to sleep. Dream of me fucking you good babygirl.” And with that I let sleep consume me as I lay next to him, hoping that I would still see him in my dreams.

[harudyne3013]

Diversity and Perspective in Horror

Survival horror is one of my favorite genres of video games, and the contrast between my top two is a great example of the diversity and possibilities of horror. Some of my favorite parts about horror games are the persistent tension and feelings of unease. Combined with the need to explore in many horror games, this atmosphere leads to a pervasive discomfort. You don’t want to go down that dark hallway full of creepy noises, but you have to if you’re going to progress the game or find much needed resources. This is why resource management is key for horror games to me--games where your only option is to run away or avoid the enemies can be scary, but decision making defines the horror genre. The split second decisions between fight or flight are even more compelling when every fight has the potential to make the next fights harder, draining your ammo or other resources. Environmental puzzles are also a core element of many horror games, and I’m a fan. While they’re often fairly simple (take this key item and figure out where it goes), they are still clever and fun to solve.

It shouldn’t be surprising that my two favorite horror games are Resident Evil Remake and Silent Hill 3. Both have excellent environments, atmosphere, tension, and horror elements on top of great puzzles (especially SH3). But while I love both games, my experience with each was surprisingly different.

RE1 was my first proper survival horror game, and I fell in love with the series immediately. The fixed camera angles and constant need for resource management got me sucked into the game’s environments, exploring every corner. Choices of how to spend or save resources were overwhelming sometimes, and I remember plenty of tense situations where I didn’t know if I could make it to the safe room alive or not. Its atmosphere still gets me after finishing the game dozens of times--the game is surprisingly gorgeous considering it came out in 2002.

In RE1, the fear is primarily isolated within the game. The enemies and antagonists aren’t that scary outside of what they can do to you in the moment, and a lot of the tension revolves around dying or losing progress. Resource management is key to RE1 to the point where something as simple as saving your game costs a resource. Whether ink ribbons add anything to the game depends on the player, but I love the decisions they force. Do you push forward and try to get to the next safe room, or do you use an ink ribbon now? You’ll lose your progress if you die, but more greedy players will want to save the resource. This dilemma falls apart on subsequent playthroughs or for skilled players, but it’s unique enough on a first run that I don’t mind its inclusion.

The puzzles in RE1 are also fun, although most of them are figuring out which key item goes into which slot. Still, there are some standouts that I love like the V-JOLT formula. RE1′s puzzles are definitely iconic if nothing else, and there’s no doubt that they influenced the horror genre as a whole.

My experience with Silent Hill 3 was different. I played SH3 when I was more experienced with the horror genre. Because of its unlimited inventory space and emphasis on avoiding combat, SH3 doesn’t involve the same degree of resource management as RE1. Saving is also free, and the PC version allows saves almost anywhere. Resources are a smaller concern, and it’s rare for you to lose significant progress when you die. That doesn’t mean the game isn’t scary though--the horror in Silent Hill is more persistent and psychological, extending outside the game itself. While RE1 makes you afraid of dying or losing progress, SH3 is much more subtle and chilling in a lot of ways. Of course, its monsters are still scary. But the scariest part of SH3 for me was a simple line of dialogue from a side character: “Monsters? They looked like monsters to you?”

SH3 has great puzzles too. It keeps the classic key items, but it also includes a variable riddle difficulty to set the intensity of puzzles. Some of these riddles are genuinely challenging and take time to solve, and I love them. The first major riddle on hard puzzle difficulty requires background knowledge of some of Shakespeare’s plays, for example. They can be surprisingly complex, and solving them is satisfying. 

SH3′s fear is also much more potent for me personally in that it’s a lot more relatable. While an extravagant zombie infested mansion would be terrifying in real life, I haven’t experienced anything like it. But many of Silent Hill’s environments are twisted versions of everyday locations that play off of real fears and anxieties. This is especially true from a woman’s perspective. Walking through an empty, silent street at night unsure if something might attack you from the shadows is a very real fear. A lot of the scariest rooms in SH3 are the empty ones, completely quiet outside of the sound of Heather’s footsteps. Other fears SH3 touches on are heights, mirrors, blood, stalkers, losing one’s identity, and the violation of one’s body. The horror in SH3 is uniquely real, and its protagonist does a lot to realize these fears.

Jill Valentine and Heather Mason are two of my favorite video game characters, but there are some big differences between the two. As a member of S.T.A.R.S., Jill is portrayed as strong and capable. Even though Jill is in over her head, she remains calm (for the most part) and the horror in RE1 is not specific to her. The themes of RE1 and its horror could apply equally to any character. You see this in RE1 itself with the ability to play roughly the same story as Chris. None of the themes change, and the horror is still equally effective--the biggest difference is which character the player relates more to.

Heather is different. She is a lonely, vulnerable teenage girl, and all of the horror in SH3 is uniquely tailored for her perspective. You could not replace Heather with another character in the same way that you can replace Jill with Chris. So much of the horror in SH3 is aimed towards women, like Heather’s stalker and her anxiety towards men, bodily violation, and birth. Her fear of mirrors and her dialogue throughout the game humanize her and make her relatable. Heather isn’t some super capable S.T.A.R.S. officer, she’s a normal girl. That’s why her story is so compelling--she is scared and vulnerable, but fiercely independent, resilient, and persistent. Heather is my favorite video game character because of how human she is and how much I relate to her. 

Resident Evil and Silent Hill are the two greatest horror series in my mind, and I love how each approaches horror differently. Heather Mason and the more relatable and psychological horror of Silent Hill 3 elevates it to my favorite game of the genre, but I’ll always love Jill for introducing me to the genre. Fans of horror have probably played both games already, but I would strongly encourage you to check them out if you haven’t.

Stay positive, haru

[yesjejunus]

Oh my god please tell me how you come up with good symbolism and foreshadowing I’m so bad at that

For symbolism, learn to think metaphorically about things, and really think about how ideas and concepts can relate to, and be similar to one another, in nonliteral ways. Like say the aforementioned bit with Joan fussing with her tie as she was justifying the murder of the BoS to Veronica--she’s tightening something around her neck, it draws the mind (subconsciously or not) to a hanged man, she’s talking about her crimes, she is guilty, and it’s HER doing it to herself. Another example is the end scenes of Learnin’ the Blues and No Light: the end of LtB takes place at sundown, indicating the “end” for both Joshua and Joan. Conversely, the end scene of NL takes place at dawn, signifying the “beginning” for them.

Study media that has a lot of symbolism--off the top of my head, Silent Hill (the video games, and preferably only 1-3) and the movie Alien are two great examples, and there are countless others across all types of media. Analyze the things you see, and think about what they remind you of, and start trying to apply it to your own work. It’s a lot of fun!

As for foreshadowing, a lot of that is due to how I handle writing--I don’t begin posting a work until it’s fully finished, including my novel length fics. Additionally, I make a pretty tight outline of the story and events of my work, so the entire time I’m working on it, I’m thinking about what’s to come, and how I can subtly try to reference it. A lot of times though, something unplanned will happen in the story, so I’ll have to go back to the earlier chapters to insert something referencing it. A great example of this being Vulpes’s death: I literally didn’t know how I was going to have Joshua kill him until the day I wrote that scene, so I went back to the previous part and edited how his fade happened in the Memory Den. Fortunately I hadn’t posted it yet!

What both of these come down to is analyzing the media you consume, really sitting and thinking about things. Why was the woman wearing a purple dress? What could the creator be trying to convey with that? Very few things are done unintentionally in media, there is almost ALWAYS a reason why a character is doing something, what color they’re wearing, what food they might be eating. There are thousands of ways to slip little things in, and the beauty is that it happens beneath the surface, in ways the audience probably won’t even consciously think about--but the effect is still there.

I hope that helps anon, it’s kind of tricky to talk about things like symbolism because it can kind of be anything you want it to be, there’s no real hard and fast rules or guides, it’s really something feel in your heart. But starting with media analyzation and discussion will definitely help!

[repentantsky]

Top Games I’m Looking Forward To in 2021 (Part 1)

2020 was a horrible year, but the thing that kept me and many other sane were the slue of great games that came out, or in my case, a combination of that and buying older games for my handheld consoles. However 2021, has a lot more games that are my style, so I’m much more excited for it than I was for most of this year. Allow me to have my longest list yet in celebration of this fact, and do so in parts as there is a lot to talk about, as I look at 8 upcoming games in 2021, that I can’t wait to play. To make things fair, and hopefully to keep this list as accurate as possible, I will only be counting games that have a release date as of my writing this. Also, my lists aren’t usually ranked by how much I want to play a game, as much as they are how much I want to talk about a game, so my most anticipated game for next year could easily be the first entry. With those explanations out of the way, let’s talk about games. 

8. The Medium. 

The Medium is a horror game made in a similar vain to Silent Hill’s Midwich Elementary, in that there are two realities existing at once, and you are constantly switching in between them. The idea is always one that has fascinated me as a horror fan, but the Medium really looks to amping up the scares by using the visuals that we can currently attain to increase the fear factor, instead of making everything pretty to try and sell people on that end of it. The gross, disgusting, and frightful looking world we are presented with in The Medium is one I cannot wait to explore, even if I don’t have an Xbox Series X to play it on. Regardless of anything, it looks like it might be my personal favorite horror game of 2021 when it comes out, barring no delay, on January 28th. 

7. Ys IX: Monstrum Nox. 

The Ys series is honestly one of the more underrated long running series in JRPG history. If you need proof of that, just play Ys Origin, Memories of Celceta, or Ys VIII for confirmation. These games are incredible. YS IX looks to be taking the series in a darker direction than most, if not all the previous entries in the series, and not only is that super compelling, but it seeing YS in a darker light, might actually go a long way in helping it become the franchise it deserves to be in the eyes of fans everywhere. The combat looking more refined than ever, on top of the best visuals the franchise has seen to this point only add to the excitement, and the characters, from what we’ve seen so far, also look like they’ll stand out in a series full of fantastic characters throughout. YS IX, probably won’t be my JRPG of the Year, but darn if it won’t be up in the top 5.

6. Little Nightmares 2.    

Did I make it clear that I love horror yet? I hope so because this might not even be the last horror game on this list. The original Little Nightmares was honestly my favorite horror experience when it released, because no other game really did a better job of making you feel isolated, alone and weak, which is the prefect setting for horror. While Little Nightmares 2 won’t be doing the isolation aspect as much as the first because of a second playable character, with the danger ramped up enough, which the demo seems to show that it will be, it should be more than capable of bringing out the fear that made the first so memorable. There’s almost nothing scarier than being a small child in an adult world that seems to want you dead, and Little Nightmares 2 has all the vibes set up for freaking everyone out. I doubt many in the horror genre will be able to do it as well as this game will. 

5. Persona 5 Strikers. 

Finally we are out of horror and darker games and all that, for a bit, as Persona 5 Strikers is easily looking to be my favorite warriors games of 2021. Not only do I love the concept of Warriors titles, but the Persona universe is one that fits that genre well by default, having a near endless slue of famous enemies to turn into either fodder for the thousands of kills we’ll get, or bosses that will gave fans a sense of nostalgia, espeically if they are fans of Shin Megami Tensei and older games in the franchise. I’ll admit, I’m a little bummed it’s not Persona X Shin Megami Tensei, where characters from both the original franchise and the spinoff can get together to cause mayhem, but it’s the next best thing, and I am all here for it. The story promises to be incredible, and the gameplay fantastic, with that Atlus special touch added in. There’s no reason not be excited about what they put out there. 

4. NieR Replicant ver. 1.22474487139...

Gawd, that name though. Crazy name aside, NieR on the PS3 was a brilliant game, that was sadly underrated due to the time of it’s release, a lack of marketing, and people generally not knowing who Taro Yoko was at the time. His history speaks for itself though, with the brilliant yet weird Drankengard series, and NieR itself really being a shining example of what he can do. To see Replicant, a game that never made it to the West, be remade with combat done in the style of NieR Automata, is such an exciting prospect that I can hardly contain my hype. Not only does the title look better than the original by miles, which was visually fascinating to begin with, but the wonderful and odd music, and everything that can really be expected of Taro Yoko is there in full swing. We are looking at an upcoming masterpiece I am certain.

3. Super Mario 3D World + Bowsers Fury

I’m not always the biggest fan of Mario mainline platformers, but seeing as I really found myself enjoying his most recent Switch and 3DS exploits, I cannot help being excited for the chance to play a Mario game I haven’t had the chance to previously, with some extra content to boot. Car Mario looks like a lot of fun to play, and the chance to play with up to four people is something I can’t pass the chance to play. I know very little of the game, other than it’s massive popularity and high praise upon release, and sometimes, it’s nice to go into a game as blind as possible, even if the story isn’t likely going to be anything to write home about. Whatever the title brings, it will be enjoyable to say the least, and possibly the most solid of platformers for 2021. 

2. Bravely Default II.

I won’t lie, I have a complicated history with Bravely Default as a series. While I did manage to power my way through the first game, it took some time to make it happen, and honestly, despite it’s great characters and even better story, the gameplay left me wanting. However, Bravely Default: End Layer was and still is one of my favorite JRPG’s on the 3DS, so here’s hoping enough of the good that came from that game, finds it’s way to Bravely Default II. Regardless of if it does or not, I always willing to give a format a second go, and I’ve already found myself completely in love with the playable characters, just from the two demos alone, so all signs point to a fantastic game that I cannot to wait to experience. 

1. Poison Control.

The best part of doing a list like this, is throwing something in there that no one expects, and may not have even heard of. Without a doubt, the most anime shit style game on my list, Poison Control is a game that might be more about the story, than the gameplay. The basis is you are stuck in another world, with two characters bound to one soul, and you’re goal is to remove the poison from people’s minds, by invading their brains and literally clearing it out. You might monsters and run over the poison in their heads, to hopefully make them better people. Despite the dark sounds setting, and even the slightly darker visuals, this is probably one of the most light hearted games on my list. I have to say though, there’s always something to these sorts of games despite their obvious lack in certain quality, that I enjoy. The game doesn’t actually have a Western release date either, so I’m cheating a bit, but with a catchphrase like “Purge Poison, Raise Hell” how can you not be at least a little bit excited for what’s to come of this game. 

And that’s my list. Did I miss anything you’re super excited for? Let me know in the notes below, and be ready, because part 1 of this list will be all about games without a release date, and that’s where the hype can really begin.  

[itsybitsylemonsqueezy]

ANGST KAZUMAJI ANON AND WOOF. FUCK. GOTTA LISTEN TO THOSE SONGS AFTER WORK. EXCITED. Your idea though OW. I haven't seen Y6 yet (I watch playthroughs don't have the console and my computer laughs at me trying to run the games) the streamer thats playing it finally got to Y6 and I am Refusing To Watch It. My heart can't take even starting the VOD.

You’re welcome for the music cc: 

A LOT of people haven’t seen 6 yet, so I did my best to get through that without spoilers ^^; Hope I haven’t ruined anything for you. And I feel that, my laptop and I have constant arguments and I’m not a good gamer anyway ^^; I should try Kiwami 1 someday though... I have it, I'm just Nervous about Being Bad ^^; 

Nice, following one streamer, well done c: I just hopped around to different playthroughs on youtube ^^; My wife and I binged all 7 games in I think 2 months, max. ^^; She crazy tho and a bad influence on me xp She likes to just sit and binge things and I am, understandably, weak for my wife <3 

6 isn’t so bad, I promise. You can do it c: It’s very pretty, you get to stare at Kiryu’s juicy ass the entire game, there’s lots of cute minigames of Kiryu with a baby, uh... *running out of nice things to say about 6* ...did I mention it’s very pretty? Fuck... Listen, I have... Feelings about game 6, but I don’t want to ruin it for anyone ^^; Everyone’s allowed to experience things in their own time and form their own opinions and I don’t want to deprive anyone of that. Please watch it and when you see it, feel free to come tell me about it c: 

And as a reward for all that, another angsty idea: 

The Nishikiyama Opera! 

So I composed the entire thing on a car ride with my wife last week and it’s WILD. Y’all ever see opera? If you’ve never seen an opera you SHOULD, they’re fucking Great. Operas are all about being The Most, comedy or tragedy, they’re all horny as shit and everyone is extra as fuck. If you living for the drama, you HAVE to get your ass to an opera. I’m lucky enough to live somewhere with a relatively robust opera community. And anyway, my point is, The Nishikiyama story? RIPE for an opera adaptation! 

First, you gotta know some of the opera tropes. There are two categories of opera, comedies which are kinda rare and tragedies which is... constantly. And operas are pretty good at telling you almost immediately which one they will be. There’s also a lot of meta about the voice parts themselves: 

Soprano - heroine, ingenue, beautiful. Will win if this is a comedy, will die if this is a tragedy. 

Alto - mothers & witches. Not the heroine. Will probably die regardless of comedy or tragedy. Unless she’s the villain, then she lives in a tragedy. 

Tenor - hero. Given the sexiest parts to sing. Sometimes unbearable. Everything is about Him. 

Baritone/Bass - fathers & villains. Gorgeous voice, never utilized properly. 

Knowing the vocal parts and what they classically represent is key to knowing who will win and who will die in the opera. For example, in Carmen, Carmen is actually an alto, not a soprano, and Don Jose is a tenor. This immediately tells you that shit’s fucked. Tenors are supposed to fall in love with sopranos, never altos. So this story can only end in tragedy because he’s interested in the wrong kind of voice part. There’s even a counterpoint of a soprano who is madly in love with him, and the baritone toreador for Carmen. They’re given their proper voice partners, but Don Jose still pursues Carmen which is a ginormous mistake by operatic tropes. 

So, opera education over, picture this: 

ACT I  Kiryu (soprano) is the loveliest yakuza in all the land! He’s just delightful. The Chorus sings his praises and he demonstrates his impeccable fighting ability. (Forgot to mention, any opera worth its salt has a Chorus and I will die on this hill.) The Audience is assured of his might and grace. 

Kiryu, obviously, does not want for admirers, but has not chosen to court anyone formally. 

Here enters Kiryu’s brother, Nishiki (bass). The Chorus explains that Nishiki is second to his brother in strength, but is formidable in his own right. Nishiki explains to the audience how he longs for Kiryu, how he covets him, his strength, his beauty. How after a lifetime together, affection has turned to love. Nishiki must have him. 

Kiryu hears none of this. Nishiki approaches to make his case when Majima (tenor) sweeps onto the scene. Majima is brazen and glib. The Chorus tells us to beware his charming smile, he is as dangerous as he is flirtatious. Majima has heard of Kiryu’s reputation and calls him into the street to defend his title. Kiryu responds and they do battle. 

In the midst of the battle, Majima finds himself won over by Kiryu’s skill and grace, his kindness and strength. Majima is bursting with love and there and then makes a proposal to Kiryu, offering his whole heart. 

Kiryu is stunned. Majima is not a weak fighter, he is not a braggadocio, despite appearances. He was a real challenge and Kiryu was not expecting the fight to take this turn. He is so surprised he cannot make an answer and politely, but quickly, leaves. 

Nishiki has been watching the entire time and finds his heart gripped by jealousy. He plots to claim Kiryu for himself and hates Majima bitterly, despite the fact that Kiryu has given no answer. Nishiki believes he knows his brother too well not to know that Kiryu returns his affections even if he won’t say. Nishiki leaves, concocting a plan. 

We find Kiryu at his balcony, lamenting his situation. Majima may have been exciting, but Kiryu’s no fool. He has no proof that Majima’s feelings will not waver in time. Majima steals into the garden beneath Kiryu’s balcony and professes his love once more. 

Kiryu is startled and makes to flee, but Majima sings so sweetly, entreats so gently, that Kiryu is compelled to stay. Majima doesn’t even ask again, just sings of his feelings. Kiryu, in his heart, is wooed by this. He may have been ready to answer when Nishiki interrupts. Majima quickly hides in the foliage. 

Nishiki counters with his own confession, his own proposal. Kiryu is shocked and saddened. He begins to sadly tell his brother that he cannot accept. Nishiki flies into a rage, demanding if there is someone else, someone else Kiryu prefers. Kiryu hesitates, but answers honestly that he has always seen Nishiki as a brother, regardless of any other feelings. He cannot accept Nishiki on the grounds of their previous relationship. 

Nishiki was expecting this. He reveals a vial of poison and threatens to drink it unless Kiryu will marry him. Majima gasps. Kiryu pleads with Nishiki not to be rash, but Nishiki only demands his answer, the vial nearly at his lips. 

Kiryu swallows back tears and collapses to his knees. Sorrowfully, he agrees, unable to bear the responsibility of his brother’s death, and the act finishes to the sound of clamoring wedding bells. 

ACT II The lights come up on Kiryu and Nishiki in their home. Nishiki is pacing the floor and making increasingly outlandish suggestions for things to do. Kiryu says yes to all of them, gently and politely. Nishiki’s frustration and annoyance increases with every yes. Eventually he snaps at Kiryu, demanding why he won’t fight him, demanding why he will give no more reaction than a placid yes. Kiryu shrugs helplessly and tries to soothe his brother, but Nishiki won’t be soothed. 

They have been married less than a year and it has been like this the entire time, getting worse by the day. Nishiki can see the pain he’s causing his brother, but can’t stop himself. He loves him too greedily to stop. He departs, hoping to take his mind off things. 

Kiryu is left alone in the house and sings a longer, sadder version of his lament from the balcony. Distantly, we hear strains of Majima’s love song, now broken and echoing. 

The scene changes and we see Kiryu sat down in a busy cafe. At first we assume he’s alone, but people move and we can see he is sitting across from Majima. They do not touch. Their careful, polite space around each other is conspicuous. 

Kiryu is tired, he looks wan, almost sick. Majima sings heartbrokenly, telling Kiryu he needs to take care of himself. He is desperate to take Kiryu away from all this, and asks several times, but Kiryu always sighs and shakes his head no. Majima knows Kiryu will not break his word once given, he is too good and honorable for that. But he cannot help singing for him all the same. He cannot touch, he will not permit himself to touch, but he can sing. 

Kiryu eventually cannot take the heartache anymore and departs sorrowfully. Majima looks after him, just as sad. Nishiki is revealed to have been spying on them the entire time. He confronts Majima, furious and accusatory. He insists that he and Kiryu have been having an affair. Majima simply looks at him and shrugs. Nishiki screams for Majima to admit it, to admit that Kiryu loves him, has always loved him, this whole time. Majima only says that Nishiki knows Kiryu best. He will not confirm or deny anything Nishiki says. Shaken and stymied, Nishiki flees. 

We return to Kiryu’s balcony, where he sits, silent and pale. Nishiki storms in and begins to berate Kiryu with his accusations. He is half-mad now, not seeming to hear Kiryu’s denials. Kiryu professes over and over that only Nishiki is his husband, that he loves only Nishiki. Nishiki cannot accept this as true. Nishiki screams that Kiryu ought to ask him for a divorce. Kiryu cannot claim to want a divorce. He gave his word. Nishiki reveals that he had been watching them in the cafe, that he knows all, the secret contents of Kiryu’s heart. Kiryu manages some resistance at last and asks Nishiki for proof. What proof of his indiscretions? What proof of adultery? What has Kiryu done that has angered his husband-brother so? 

Nishiki has none. Kiryu has not done anything wrong, not in word, not in act. Whatever thoughts he might accuse Kiryu of having are ephemeral and will never be real. Still... Nishiki saw how they looked together and his heart was sore. He knows he has stolen Kiryu from what was rightfully his. Moved to regret, Nishiki withdraws the vial of poison again. 

Kiryu gasps and tries to prevent his brother. 

Nishiki swallows the poison quickly, insisting this will set things right, this will free his brother. He says he did it for love. He falls. 

Kiryu collapses next to him, sobbing. 

The final scene is Nishiki’s funeral. Kiryu kneels next to his brother’s grave, all in black. He sings of his regrets, of his sorrow. Majima stands close by, but still not touching. He does not look at the grave, only at Kiryu. His broken love song is the last thing we hear. 

The End. 

...this opera was a tragedy ^^; 

[aion-rsa]

“We Have Just Never Listened to Women”: Patrick Ness on Chaos Walking’s Relevance Today

https://ift.tt/3sLzUTC

Patrick Ness’ 2008 science fiction young adult novel The Knife of Never Letting Go was published the same year as Suzanne Collins’ The Hunger Games, but while the latter launched a dystopian YA franchise, Ness’ Chaos Walking series seemed to attract more of a cult following despite tackling similar early-2000s issues through a speculative lens. While Collins struck an arrow through the heart of reality television, Ness turned his attention to information overload, manifesting it as the Noise: an ever-present broadcast of one’s most private, cringeworthy, hateful, earnest thoughts for all to hear—but only for men.

On the “New World,” an alien planet only recently colonized by humans, the all-male settlement of Prentisstown has ascribed varyingly demanding interpretations of masculinity and morality to their members’ handling of the Noise. Todd Hewitt, the community’s sole boy, must come of age when he faces something even more chaotic than his Noise: the first girl he’s ever seen, a silent space traveler named Viola.

Over a decade later, the book’s dual commentary on information overload and toxic masculinity remains relevant. In fact, as Ness told Den of Geek, the intervening 13 years have only provided more dire inspiration for adapting his novel to the big screen. Doug Liman’s adaptation of Chaos Walking, starring Tom Holland and Daisy Ridley, finally arrives in the UK (it hit the US last month) after a perfect storm of delays, from scheduling around two of the biggest franchise stars to dealing with COVID-19 setbacks. The film conjures a similar lo-fi dystopian setting as Gary Ross’ The Hunger Games film while transforming the book’s free-associating monologue into an ever-present visual and aural halo—not unlike the information overload depicted in more tech-y futuristic tales.

In addition to the forceful depiction of the Noise, Ness spoke with Den of Geek about the book dog’s Noise that didn’t make the final cut, the Western homages behind Mads Mikkelsen’s villainous Mayor Prentiss, and what happens when men don’t listen to women.

DEN OF GEEK: When you first wrote The Knife of Never Letting Go, it was a response to information overload circa 2007. What was it like revisiting the story to adapt it over a decade later?

PATRICK NESS: Gosh, just that the world has gotten so much noisier—that there’s just so much more information coming at us. If the original idea was about questioning how much of ourselves we feel obliged to share and give to the world, that question has only become—not more serious, but we now do it so automatically that I just want to be sure that we keep asking that question: What are we losing, and how much of ourselves do we need to keep our sense of identity? The other big thing that’s happened in the last 13 years is that we’ve all gotten so used to sharing on social media—we’ve gotten so used to what it does, that it’s such a fabric of our lives—that people have now recognized, “I can abuse this. I can use this to tell lies; I can use this to make fake enemies; I can use this to manipulate elections”—for example. The genie isn’t gonna go back into the bottle, and I’m not some doomsayer saying we need to go back to phones and blah blah blah. We need to not forget that we have a choice of what to share and that there are—for all the good things the Internet brings us, which it does—we should not and must not ignore the darker parts of it, because there are very dark parts of it.

That darkness is especially apparent in the culture of Prentisstown and their need to control the Noise. In adapting, did you find yourself approaching Prentisstown differently than when you wrote the book?

Read more

Books

Top New Young Adult Books in April 2021

By Megan Crouse

There was always meant to be a feeling of poison in Prentisstown—something has gone amiss here. And in the intervening 13 years, we have only had further and further and further proof of how we have just never listened to women. One after another, we keep having to learn this stupid lesson and then not learning it. And so the feeling of something bad in the well of Prentisstown feels like it became clearer and sharper and more dangerous-seeming, because we have so much proof now of the danger that leads [to]. There isn’t much of a step from dismissing what a woman says, to dehumanizing a woman, to pure misogyny that they have nothing to say—that’s not a long journey. The point of Prentisstown was always to show the most extreme example of what a community might do in reaction to this huge difference between men and women that happens to be made apparent in every communication in this place. But it has only—I think the world has shown us that it’s not that fictional, and that’s a scary thing. Again, the question must be constantly asked, it must be constantly second-guessed and demanded: Why does this happen? Why do we keep doing it, and how do we stop it, and how do we keep stopping it? I’m not acting like I’m some prophet, because that poison was always there, but fortunately there have been some attempts to recently counteract it—and long may that continue.

What you said about information overload and fabricating reality to influence things ties into what made the Noise striking in this movie, especially with regard to characters who can project lifelike objects and people into others’ minds. What was the thought process in depicting the Noise so visually on-screen?

That was the longest conversation, because the Noise is the movie. That’s the thing that has to work. We didn’t want it to be exposition—people sitting around thinking these thoughts that just happen to tell you the history of the planet—because I hate that kind of stuff. So we thought, it’s got to be immersive from the start; you’ve got to be able to see and guess what’s happening before it’s explained to you. My favorite Noise is that of David Oyelowo [whose preacher character’s Noise looks like hellfire]—that’s kind of what we’re after, that it’s an emotional thing, an unfiltered expression of our brains, which are a mess. I think we’re charming messes, humans, really, but without this filter—which is the thing that makes us human, the ability to decide what to say—how much of a mess does that look, because it’s a purely emotional situation. So with that basis, the conversation was always, how do we make it so it’s not confusing or oppressive—because it would be very, very oppressive, if it were real—and how can it be used, how would people have evolved to use it, if they’ve gotten used to manipulating it. 

Read more

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Top New Fantasy Books in April 2021

By Megan Crouse

Lots and lots of special effects tests and approaches, some really cool technology. There was a Noise unit on the film, so Tom would stand in the middle of a circle of cameras capturing him from 360 degrees, linking it up. Then the final results are a combination of all those things: technology, some artwork, some animation. My favorite little bit of it is a scene where Daisy Ridley’s walking up a hill and Tom Holland is behind her, and he’s kinda grumpy about her, and he’s complaining, and you see the complaints kinda just fly off the back of his head. That, to me, is what Noise would be.

Was there anything cut from the book, or an early version of the screenplay, that you would have loved to have seen?

One of my favorite characters in the book is called Wilf; and he does play an important part later in the trilogy, as well. But it’s a 500-page book, and at most a movie is a long short story, so you do have to make sacrifices. But what you get in exchange is, there’s a scene in the film where Tom and Daisy are under a little tarp in the rain, and something very funny happens. And that’s not in the book, but what you get in exchange is something like that, a little scene that expresses a ton that you can do visually, because [that scene] wouldn’t work in a book. I don’t mind; you give and you get. I’ve always viewed adaptations, even when it’s not my own work, as a remix. It’s not a cover version, it’s not an exact replica, it’s a remix. If I can start with that premise, then I can feel more creative.

Was there ever a version in which Todd’s dog Manchee has the Noise, like in the book?

Yes! But what you find out very quickly is that it’s all kind of about real estate. The animal Noise is very funny in the book, to me—it always made me laugh—and in a massive novel of 110,000 words, that real estate in the book doesn’t take up much. A movie is much more compressed, so every time an animal spoke, it just took up so much room in the movie. And it is funny, because it’s meant to be, but it kind of unbalanced the story, and it totally took away from what really needed to happen. Read the book, is what I would say, because I still love the idea, it still makes me laugh; but in a movie, it becomes too cartoon-y. We’re not making The Incredible Journey, as wonderful as it is! So you have to make some sacrifices.

The movie ends differently from the book, which is more of a clear cliffhanger setting up book 2, The Ask and the Answer; whereas the movie is left open-ended for sequels, but on a less dire note. What influenced this decision?

Doug Liman is an exploratory filmmaker; it’s a different approach than any director I’ve ever met. He’s really very much about what’s happening on set, what feels the right energy, where are we going—which is why there’s additional photography in all of his films. That’s always planned, it’s always in advance; we always knew that was going to happen, we just had to schedule the two biggest franchise stars in the world. But because of that, the story tends to organically develop. So we thought, Where are these two going in particular now that we have these actors, we have this situation, and it just starts to slightly change.

And I don’t mind that—again, in the remix idea—but what it interestingly has done is that it’s become more pandemic-themed, unintentionally, in that here are all these people who have been presented with a situation completely beyond their control, so how do they adapt? And there is a hopeful feeling at the end of this film, one I think is true, because they’ve really earned it, but also it’s like what we’ve done—we’re talking via Zoom, we’ve adjusted. It’s not perfect, and we’re all waiting for a better world, but we’re also probably not gonna go back to the old world, exactly. We’ve found a way, and that is kinda the whole point of the story, which is, here is the very worst example of people who didn’t find a way, as we move forward to people who do. To me, the ending makes emotional sense.

Are there plans to adapt one or both of the book sequels?

They’re optioned, they’re ready, but with a new series it’s all about if an audience wants it. 

How did your experience adapting the screenplay for A Monster Calls influence your work on Chaos Walking?

Very different filmmakers, which is interesting because I always tell people writing novels that there’s no one way to do it—as long as you end up with a novel, you’ve done it right, so find out what works for you. So, a very different experience as a writer, but interesting in their own ways. 

Read more

Books

Top New Science Fiction Books in April 2021

By Megan Crouse

The great thing about [A Monster Calls director] J.A. Bayona is a real lack of ego about ideas; an idea is good or it’s bad, it doesn’t matter who or where it came from. He’s very clear on that, he’s very sincere about that, and that really frees you up creatively. And so I really try to bring that to anything I collaborate on now; I try to never ever be any kind of snob about my ideas or anybody else’s—it’s just what’s better, what works; an idea is good or bad on its own, not because it came from somebody powerful. I think it makes everybody feel more comfortable; we’re all in it together, trying to make something interesting.

What was it about Daisy, Tom, Mads, et al, that made you feel that they were right for the roles in Chaos Walking? Mads in particular has such a striking look as Mayor Prentiss, with the cowboy hat, jumpsuit, and fabulous fur coat.

That coat is actually a tribute to McCabe & Mrs. Miller, a Warren Beatty Western from Robert Atlman. It’s interesting that they’re all European! We didn’t go out hunting for necessarily European, but also Cynthia [Erivo] is European, and David’s European. Nick [Jonas] is not… [laughs] But there is a sensibility that feels approachable to Tom and Daisy, that I think is their little movie-star magic, that they are not forbidding. Forbidding movie stars can be amazing! But they seem like somebody that you could meet, and talk to; and for a younger-centered film, that is vital, to feel like these could be my friends, and I care about them and am worried about what happens to them. That is what they bring so beautifully to the movie. And Mads has that magnificent face—he’s got such a great acting face, especially for a villain—and his manner, the sort of Scandinavian understatements, I love it.

Especially for a villain who’s trying to hide his thoughts—there’s so much still that comes through on his face.

A villain who thinks he’s right! He doesn’t think he’s a villain—and that’s the scariest kind of all.

cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });

Chaos Walking is available for premium rental at home on all digital platforms from 2nd April.

The post “We Have Just Never Listened to Women”: Patrick Ness on Chaos Walking’s Relevance Today appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/3wbJf9v

[mysterioh]

Here Kitty Kitty - Chapter Three

PAIRING: CAT!BUCKY BARNES X READER

SYNOPSIS: You’re a cat person. So when you find a kitty hiding in a battered cardboard box in an alleyway you just had to take him home. He needed a place to stay and you wanted a friend. A win-win situation or so you thought. Turns out Mr. Barnaby is actually a two-thousand-year-old cursed soul reaper who’s been banished to the land of the living. Don’t believe me? Just add water.

ฅ^•ﻌ•^ฅ MASTERLIST

Lieutenant James Barnes

Nick Fury was an enigma. You couldn't predict anything when it came to him. He was calculating, cunning, and maybe a bit creepy. But as Captain Commander of the Court of Pure Souls he had to be just that. Well, maybe not creepy, but he was pretty old.

"Lieutenant James Barnes of the Sixth Division," Fury stated calmly. A calm Nick Fury was never good.

"Hey what's up, man?" Bucky replied as if he wasn't talking to the leader of all soul reapers.

Steve hid his face in his hand. "Show some respect, you punk.”

"That's Captain Commander to you," Lieutenant Hill of the First Division said with narrowed eyes.

"Now from what I know," Fury said, ignoring the reaper's casual tone. "The Sixth Division has the best numbers when it comes to harvesting. They do an exceptional job."

"I don't know I think it has something to do with that guy over there," Bucky smiled while pointing at Steve behind him. "He's great."

"Yes, Captain Rogers is a strong leader, but we're not here for him. We're here to talk about you." Fury voice turned low at the end. "You're numbers are very low-"

"You see I can explain," Steve butt in only to be shut down."

"Talk only when you are spoken to, Captain," Fury bit back.

Steve stood quietly not wanting to peeve his boss.

"Your numbers are very low," Fury started over. "And as a Lieutenant that won't do. You set an example for your subordinates and this is not the example I want."

"I'm just a bit slow," Bucky retorted.

"Slow?" Fury repeated.

"Yeah, I just work at a different pace than everyone else."

"Well, then please explain to me why one of your squad members said: James Barnes is the laziest man I know. He doesn't do - I'm not saying that word in a professional setting -. Please kick him out," Fury read off the report.

"Wait who's snitching on me?" Bucky asked annoyed.

"It's confidential."

"Was it Sam? It was Sam wasn't it?" Bucky asked. "That bastard," he grumbled. "I'm gonna rip his head off."

"So you fight with your co-workers?"

"No," Steve chimed in. "Not at all! Sam and him just have a playful spat from time to time. They're friends."

"Friends?" Bucky asked. "I hate that guy."

Steve made a cutting motion with his hand that Bucky was too dense to get. Steve turned to Fury with a nervous chuckle. Fury was unamused.

"Listen, I'm being framed here!" Bucky shouted. "This is wrong. I demand justice!" Bucky said pounding his fist on Fury's desk.

Fury remained silent, but had a dangerous look in his eye. A little too passionate, Buck.

"I've been watching you, Lieutenant," Fury stated. Bucky stood, mildly freaked out. "I've been watching your every move."

"That's not creepy at all," he retorted.

Fury ignored him and stood up so he was towering over him. "You haven't been doing your work. I've seen it with my own eye."

Bucky opened his mouth to retort, but Fury shot him down. "You've been terrorizing humans. Making them see things they're not supposed to."

"It was all just fun and games," Bucky waved him off. "You know how-"

"Don't interrupt me when I'm speaking," Fury snapped back and Bucky stood straight. "What is the second law of the soul reapers?"

Bucky sighed. "It is against the law for a Soul Reaper to reveal themselves to humans or give them their spiritual power."

"Exactly, and what did you do?"

"I didn't go up to them. I just played pranks from afar. Those stupid humans would drop on the spot if I did that. So I don't see what the big deal is." Bucky crossed his arms like a pouty teenager.

"It is forbidden to interact with humans in any way, shape, or form." Fury stated sharply. "And furthermore, I've heard one of your stupid pranks caused a rip in the vault."

"Actually," Bucky gave him a stupid smile and point of the finger. "There was already a rip there. I just so happened to find it. So technically you should be thanking me because you would've been in a lot of trouble if I didn't find it."

Fury pinched the bridge of his nose and let out an exasperated groan.

"Bucky, shut up," Steve hissed quietly.

"You made it bigger!" Hill spoke up. "How is that helping?!"

"Well if I didn't find it then the Hollows would've come into the land of the living and then they'd hurt your precious little humans," Bucky mocked.

"You moron," Hill snapped back. "You don't deserve to be a soul reaper! You don't value its importance!"

"I'm sorry that I got bored of raking up dead souls for two thousand stinking years and wanted a little fun," Bucky retorted.

Fury groaned, feeling a headache coming to him.

"Bucky shut the hell up!" Steve sneered.

"Who's side are you on anyway?"

"Nobody's!" Steve retorted. "Stop acting like an idiot!"

"Take that back, Captain Stick-Up-Your-A-"

"Enough!" Fury barked and the room went silent. "James Barnes, I hereby rescind your title as Lieutenant of the Sixth Division and retract your abilities as a soul reaper."

"Wait what?!?" Bucky asked, shocked. "You can't do that!"

"Yes I can," Fury snapped at him, "and from now on you will live at the feet of the very humans you despise."

"Commander, there has to be a better option," Steve spoke up. "He can't go there."

"I've made my decision," he stated firmly. "Your sword," he asked, placing his hand in front of Bucky.

Bucky glowers at him with cold eyes before doing as his stalwart says. He takes off the sword he kept on the side of his hip, the symbol of a soul reaper, and hands it to him with a scowl on his face.

"Hill," Fury gives her a description less order. She gladly presses the button conveniently placed underneath Fury's desk.

A gate was revealed on the other side of the room. A vortex leading to the realm of the living. The hands of spirits rushed out and latched onto him, pulling him into the vacuum.

"Mark my words, Fury," Bucky barked as ghostly hands pull him closer to the gate. "I'm coming back and when I do I'm gonna-" his words were cut off with a hand slapping his mouth shut. All they could hear were his muffled curses as he was yanked into the gate.

The doors closed and the room returned to its original atmosphere.

"Well that's that," Fury let out an exasperated sigh.

"You've made a good decision, Commander, as always," Hill replied with a smile.  

Steve stared at the wall for a while with a million worries already racking his brain. He let out a sigh. Bucky had it coming, he was pushing it for far too long.

"Good luck, Buck, you're gonna need it."

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[esabri]

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instant Markt market Grad degree besiedeln populate küken chick liebe dear Feind enemy antworten reply Getränk drink auftreten occur Unterstützung support Rede speech Natur nature Angebot range Dampf steam Bewegung motion Weg path Flüssigkeit liquid protokollieren log gemeint meant Quotient quotient Gebiss teeth Schale shell Hals neck Sauerstoff oxygen Zucker sugar Tod death ziemlich pretty Geschicklichkeit skill Frauen women Saison season Lösung solution Magnet magnet Silber silver danken thank Zweig branch Spiel match Suffix suffix insbesondere especially Feige fig ängstlich afraid riesig huge Schwester sister Stahl steel diskutieren discuss vorwärts forward ähnlich similar führen guide Erfahrung experience Partitur score apfel apple gekauft bought geführt led Tonhöhe pitch Mantel coat Masse mass Karte card Band band Seil rope Rutsch slip gewinnen win träumen dream Abend evening Zustand condition Futtermittel feed Werkzeug tool gesamt total Basis basic Geruch smell Tal valley noch nor doppelt double Sitz seat fortsetzen continue Block block Tabelle chart Hut hat verkaufen sell Erfolg success Firma company subtrahieren subtract Veranstaltung event besondere particular viel deal schwimmen swim Begriff term Gegenteil opposite Frau wife Schuh shoe Schulter shoulder Verbreitung spread arrangieren arrange Lager camp erfinden invent Baumwolle cotton geboren born bestimmen determine Quart quart neun nine Lastwagen truck Lärm noise Ebene level Chance chance sammeln gather Geschäft shop Stretch stretch werfen throw Glanz shine Immobilien property Spalte column Molekül molecule wählen select falsch wrong grau gray Wiederholung repeat erfordern require breit broad vorbereiten prepare Salz salt Nase nose mehreren plural Zorn anger Anspruch claim Kontinent continent

[amintyworld]

All These Years - Sanders Sides TTRPG AU Oneshot

A/N: Hey guys! So… this has been in the making for a while. It’s based on a Sanders Sides Tabletop Roleplaying Game AU (Example: Dungeons and Dragons) by @ask-fantasy-sanders-sides, so if you’re interested you should totally check them out, the amount of detail and work put into it is amazing. A special thanks to Mango, the creator of the AU, for answering my constant messages and questions, thank you so much this fic would not be the same without you! Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this angsty fic! - Minty

Summary: Due to his drow blood, Virgil must watch his friends die as the years go by. Will he find happiness in a world without them?

TW: Major Character Deaths, blood, injury, violence, vomiting. (Tell me if I missed anything else!)

———————————

20 years, 8 months, and 15 days. 

That’s how long he’d been alone. Or at least, physically alone.

After all this time he still couldn’t get the image of Logan laying on that bed out of his brain. It was strange.

After Patton had passed, they got closer. They both had lost a lot over the years, and Virgil didn’t want to lose more. He didn’t want that feeling of his heart being ripped to pieces as his family left.

Logan was the only family he had left.

They both spent their days reading books, watching their family grow and grow. The house was always filled with laughter and mysterious messes of various kinds. The house had gotten so big that he and Logan had to be moved to a small guest house next to it. Virgil loved to sit out on the porch in the rocking chairs Patton had made and look at the toddlers and children play in the treehouse Roman constructed to look like a tiny castle. He counted the seconds as the sun rose and fell, watching children and students alike file inside as he stared into space, always giving him a glance before getting through the door.

Sometimes, he’d find Logan up on the hill with the willow, just looking at the graves. Most of the time, he left things - books, pictures, flowers. Virgil always wondered what was going through his mind, what he might be feeling. Logan was not the emotional type, and Virgil just wanted to help him somehow, someway, as the elf had done for him. He always sat with him, not saying a word, holding Logan’s hand in his to give him some kind of comfort.

“I miss them, Virgil.” Logan’s voice was soft. Virgil looked at the graves and sighed.

“I know, Lo,” Virgil said. “I…do too.”

Both sat in a sort of comfortable silence for a few moments, a cold wind blowing leaves and hair around the sound of it filling Virgil’s ears before it calms down once more.

“Virgil, I…” Logan said, holding his necklace - Patton’s gold wedding band on a plain white string around his neck, yellowed over the years - for a bit of comfort. “I can’t help but wonder about Patton, you know - Janus, Remus, Roman…”

“You know that Roman and Remus wouldn’t take their eyes off us for a second, Teach,” Virgil said, smiling as his eyes began to water, thinking of them. “They’re probably still arguing over who died more heroically.”

Logan and Virgil shared a laugh as they both looked into the sky, almost as if expecting to see them. Virgil continued, his chest clenching uncomfortably. “Janus would come to break those two up before they bit each other’s heads off, and then he’d most likely get beat up in the process.” Virgil smiled, a few tears slipping down his cheeks that he didn’t even realize. “Patton… Patton would just look down at us and smile. He’s proud of you, you know.”

“W-well,” Logan said, his voice pained as his grasp on the ring got tighter. “Please excuse me if I don’t find a reason why.”

“Logan, you… you’ve done so much for me, for the kids-” Virgil said. “You’ve been taking care of them, helping them, writing a book - Me? All I’ve done since Patton died is just sit in a chair and watch!”

“Well, at least you actually grieved!” Logan snapped, tears streaming down his face. “I just threw myself into my work and pretended it didn’t matter. That HE didn’t matter-!”

“Logan, I know as well as you that you don’t think that,” Virgil said, looking at Logan with sincerity. “You loved Patton, and you still do. You love him more than anything. You keep his wedding ring around your heart because you do hurt, Logan. You hurt because he mattered so, so much to you.”

Logan wiped away his tears, Virgil at his side, holding his hand. “It hurts a lot, Virgil. It hurts more than it should sometimes.” Logan choked, tears rolling down his face. 

“I…I know, Logan. I know.”

———————-

“Great Grandpa Virgil!”

Virgil’s eyes snapped open as he turned around to the halfling child - Bright red hair, freckles, and green eyes. Virgil smiled. “Duris.” The child halfling rushed in for a hug, and Virgil smiled, laughing a bit as he awkwardly embraced her. “Whatcha doing here, Dur?” Virgil asked his great-grandchild.

“Getting hugs, obviously,” Duris smirked. “What’s the plan for today?”

“Hm,” Virgil smirked. “What do you want it to be?”

That’s how Virgil ended up playing hide-and-seek in his own house - he closed his eyes and tried to smile as he heard the pitter-patter of feet. Duris was an incredibly sweet and determined girl. She visited Virgil every day she could, and Virgil more than appreciated the company. After all, he was barely visited now that the others were gone. 

Years of staying in this house, of watching the days go by, not speaking much to anyone - no wonder some of the kids avoided him. Either out of fear or just a lack of care. The others were better with the conversation, and with them gone, so went the days the house seemed alive with chatter and laughter.

It was hard to believe so long ago he thought he needed no one. Now, for the first time in his life, Virgil was filled with painful loneliness. All he ever did now between visits with Duris was just staring out the window toward the tree on the hill with the gravestones standing tall. All he could do now is close his eyes and revel in memories of joy and compassion. 

Virgil tried pushing the thoughts out of his head as he opened his eyes, slowly moving out of his chair without a sound, listening for breathing. He crept down the hallways of the house, smiling. Duris always had the best hiding spots, but it never stopped Virgil from finding her. He looked under tables and in cupboards and cabinets, and even at the ceiling.

Nothing. Virgil sniffed as his senses flared, and he grabbed the nearest weapon - a kitchen knife. Something was wrong. Duris wasn’t in the house.

Slowly, silently, he moved quickly around the house, listening intently, and following the faintest sound. He quickly scampered up a tree, huffing a bit from the effort. Suddenly he heard a cry and jumped from tree to tree, following it. He jumped the beast from above, pinning it to the floor and quickly holding the knife to its throat. The small beast, about twice the size of the small child, stared down Virgil intently. Virgil’s gaze fixed on the monster, unmoving. 

The beast growled as low as it could muster. Virgil growled lower, barking at it, shaming it for its actions and telling it to never return. He would’ve killed it right there - good meal. But he didn’t want to scare Duris off, and besides, it was just a baby. He let it go as the beast skidded away quickly in fear. He nodded as the thing disappeared into the darkness, a mission well done. 

He quickly turned to Duris. “Are you alright, Dur? Did it hurt you?” Virgil checked the girl over to find a few deep cuts, but Duris scooted away. 

“V, I’m fine.” She waved off, smiling. “That was amazing, Grandpa!” Virgil quickly scooped the child in his arms and rushed back to the house. “H-huh?”

“Dur, you shouldn’t go near the fence.” He responded, getting back to the guest house and grabbing some medical supplies. He quickly pushed Duris down on a nearby table and set to work patching her up. 

“I was just-”

“You were being stupid. That’s what you were doing, Duridili.” Virgil interrupted, using the full name Duris resented. Duris gave him a look, and she sighed. 

“Fine, I was being - ugh!” Duris grunted as Virgil disinfected the wound. “I was being s-stupid. But, I.. I saw these flowers and I thought you’d…” Her breath hitched again. “Press down on the cloth harder, don’t ya?” She snapped a bit, and Virgil looked up with a glare. 

——————————–

 Roman winced as Virgil disinfected the slashes on his back. “You need to be more careful, you could’ve really hurt yourself!”

Roman chuckled through the stinging pain. “Aw, is my Dark and Stormy Knight worried about me?” Tears pricked Roman’s eyes as the pain increased, the disinfectant pressed against his wounds harder. “UGH-!” Roman’s voice cursed under his breath as another intense pain wave arrived. “Please, add more disinfectant, don’t mind me.” He quipped.

“Hey, I’m not the one who jumped off a cliff.” Virgil snapped back. He dipped the bloodied cloth in the bowl, rinsing it before dabbing the liquid on the blood-red slashes and scrapes. He sighed. “I’m not worried, Roman. You’re just stupid sometimes.” Virgil insisted. “Though it would be helpful if we didn’t have to waste supplies on your stupidity.”

“HEY-!”

——————————-

“Virgil?! Grandpa V!?”

Virgil snapped back to reality quickly. His eyes scanned around, trying to figure out where he was. “Dur…?”

“You spaced out, you were… mumbling again.” Duris quickly clarified. “You mumble a lot, are you okay, Grandpa?”

“Uh… fine. I’m fine, Duris.” Virgil’s eyebrows furrowed, and he tightened the bandage before securing it tightly. “You should go rest for a few days and keep an eye on it for me, alright?” Virgil helped her to the door. “No training.”

“Aw…” Duris sighed. 

“Sorry, that’s the rules.” Virgil smiled, getting level with the girl before whispering. “Apparently if you go train, you may alert the bugs. I heard they take rule-breaking kids.”

Duris smiled mischievously with a front tooth missing, getting into a fighting stance. “No bugs gonna get meh!”

“Good.” Virgil ruffled her red locks. “Now go home.”

Virgil got up, leaning against the doorframe of the house with his arms crossed, smiling as the redheaded girl rushed home in the sunset. 

——————————-

It had started as a cough. The two were reading in the study when a cough interrupted Virgil’s reading and he looked up. “Lo, are you alright?”

Logan gave a reassuring smile to his worried friend. “Virgil, I’m fine. My throat’s just a little dry.”

With that, the two went back to their calm afternoon of reading. A crisp autumn breeze swept through the window, blowing through Virgil’s hair and making him shiver, pulling the blankets around him closer. Logan was re-reading The Murder of Agatha Christie, looking content while sipping his afternoon tea. Virgil skimmed the page of poetry in front of him, relaxing as he heard the poem aloud in his mind.

“ACHOO-!”

Virgil’s eyes quickly looked up to his friend, sneezing into the elbow of his coat. “Your throat’s dry, huh?” He smirked, hiding his anxiety - he worried it could be something serious, though, from the looks of it, it looked to be a mere cold. “Seems like someone’s sick.”

“Virgil, please. It was one sneeze and a cough, I swear to you I am-” Logan barely finished his sentence before he doubled over in a coughing fit, shaking, his book dropped to the floor. Virgil rushed over quickly. 

“We should get you to bed.”

His anxiety and worry grew, a part of him saying that Logan was sicker than he seemed, that he could die and then he’d be all alone-

No. Don’t think about that right now. Help Logan. Logan. Logan is the priority right now.

As soon as Logan was settled into bed, Virgil called for the healer. Logan insisted he was fine but Virgil pushed him back into bed, and he eventually fell asleep with a mountain of blankets on top of him. With nothing to do but wait, Virgil paced outside the door, trying to keep calm and breathe. His hands itched to do something, but he never left Logan’s side.

His hands twitched as he paced, breathing heavily.

——————————

Virgil worked on the skin of his latest hunt, trying to gather more furs for the coming winter season. He needed the gear for a good coat, the warmth of the normal ones wasn’t enough to keep out the chill on his bones. Virgil hummed to himself, closing his eyes for a moment…

Virgil jolted, his eyes wide open as he heard a loud screech, looking around. He saw shadows crossing the windows, running to grab his bow when something tackled him quickly to the ground. Whoever it was covered his mouth tightly, and Virgil began to struggle when a familiar face greeted him. 

That short red hair and dopey grin. Roman. But… but how?! He… he was… he was….

“Quiet, Virge.” Roman said softly, slowly taking his hand off Virgil’s mouth. “That… that thing senses sound and movement. We need to be smart about this.”

He looked around…. There was Remus, Patton, Logan… they were all here except… Janus.

What was going on?!

Remus looked to his brother. “We need to do something fast, Ro. We can’t let that thing get the kids.”

KIDS?!

Logan and Patton held soft and small bundles in their hands. Two of them. Something about this was really strange. This seemed so familiar… what was he forgetting?

“You’re right. We can’t just be sitting ducks.” Roman and Remus’s eyes met, if only for a moment. A non-verbal exchange of words that meant everything. “Are you with me, Brother?”

Remus only smiled. “Till the end of time.”

Roman turned to the rest. “You three should stay in here. You’re dead meat outside. Me and Rem will handle this.”

Logan’s eyes widened. “What?! That’s crazy. If we don’t stand a chance neither can you.”

“We have wings, Lo. We’ll be fine. Just keep the kids safe.”

That’s when everything began to click in Virgil’s mind. Memories. This was when Remus and Roman - No. No no no! Virgil grabbed Roman’s arm as he turned to leave. “Roman, you can’t! Please, we’ll figure out something else, just please don’t go. Both of you, just don’t…” Tears welled in Virgil’s eyes. 

“Virge?” Roman said, looking at his friend. “I promise, me and Remus will be fine. We’ll defeat it and be back before you know it.” Roman squeezed Virgil’s hand as he hugged him closely. “I love you, okay?”

Suddenly, he looked around, startled by the sound of the door, and looked down at his tear soaked pelt. He tried to quickly wipe away his tears, remembering what Logan always told him - he couldn’t change the past, no amount of wishing, praying, or even magic can change what happened. It just… happens, and life goes on. Even so, Virgil couldn’t help holding the hand Roman squeezed to his heart. He didn’t know if Roman could hear him, or if he was even watching him from above, so little could explain what he did next.

“I love you, too.” He whispered as he heard steps down the hall. 

The young girl had grown quickly before Virgil’s eyes, around 12 now, her long red locks chopped off and determined to become a guard and protector for King Thomas’s son, King Lykos. Virgil knew Duris would always protect them.

But, when Virgil turned around, it wasn’t just Duris. A young boy with gray drow-like skin, yet no fangs or yellow eyes. Instead, they were a chocolate brown paired with a messy mop of black hair. “Oh hey Grandpa Virgil, I brought a… friend?” The boy looked to Virgil, and practically froze right there, scampering behind Duris to hide. Duris turned around to face the boy, giving him a comforting smile, reminding him or himself and Patton back in the day. “It’s okay, he’s not gonna hurt you, I promise.”

The kid smiled back and slowly replaced his old spot by Duris’s side. Virgil slowly approached as not to frighten the child, getting on a knee to be more level and giving him a warm smile. “Hey there. I don’t bite, I promise.”

The kid approached, looking at Virgil with slight curiousity. “I’m Skia. I’m… Duris’s friend.”

“Well, any friend of Duris’s is a friend of mine.” Virgil said, slowly getting up. It was a bit jarring how hard it was to do, but he quickly shrugged it off. 

Duris smiled widely. “Grandpa, you gotta finish the story! The one about the beasts!”

“Which ones?” Virgil asks, smirking. 

“You know which ones! The ones with the goo and the teeth!” Duris smiled, pointing a playful accusatory finger at Virgil. At this, Skia looks to Virgil, interested. 

“Displacer Beasts? You encountered one?”

“Not just one, like… a zillion!” Duris said proudly. “During the dark season. My Grandpa Virgil took them all on by himself.”

“Well, not exactly, Dur.” Virgil interjected. “There were only eight, and no one, not even me, can take eight Displacer Beasts on alone.” Virgil moved to sit on his chair as Duris rushed to sit at his feet, tapping the spot next to her as Skia sat down. 

“Then… what happened?” Skia asked curiously.

“Well, like I told you, no one can take eight Displacer Beasts on alone, but I was determined to try. I was hard-headed back in the day, and stubborn as a mule. Despite all this, I was given love even when I had not given them any in return.” Virgil began, before Duris quickly interjected.

“Grandpa Patton, Grandpa Logan, and Grandpa RoRo!” She smiled, and Virgil nodded. 

“That’s right. I cared for them as much as they did for me, possibly even more. So, when we were surrounded by beasts I was ready to make any sacrifice, even myself, to make sure they were safe.”

———————————–

They told him there wasn’t anything they could do for him. He’d gotten a chill, and with his age…there wasn’t much to do but hope he’d fight off the sickness. “The man is 163, Virgil. It’s a miracle he’s survived this long.”

“But there’s gotta be something, some kind of magic, or potion, or…o-or…” Virgil begged, looking toward the bedroom with worry. 

“Virgil, I’m sorry, but-”

“I’ll do anything, please! Take my magic, my blood, my life, anything at all! Just… just let him live…” Virgil’s voice cracked slightly from pain, and emotion welled up in his throat as the healer eyed him with sympathy and concern. She slowly took his hand in her own, rubbing circles into his palm.

“If there’s anything Logan needs right now, it’s you. Just be there. Help take care of him and make sure he stays in bed, and if… if it really is the end, at the very least he had you to hold his hand.” She said calmly, trying her best to comfort him. “I’m so sorry, if I could do something I would…”

The two embraced, pulling away from each other but hands still held together in friendship and comfort. “Make sure he eats, monitor his temperature, and don’t let him out of that bed. If you ever need me you know where to find me, okay?”

Virgil just nodded as she turned, flipping her hood up as she grabbed her bag and left out the door, leaving Virgil alone. It took Virgil a few minutes to sit there, head in his hands, trying to breathe, and trying to wrap his head around everything. Then, he found himself slowly moving toward the bedroom, quietly heading inside. Logan sat on the bed, looking up at Virgil as he entered. Virgil tried to muster a smile to his friend as he sat down next to the bed. “Hey Lo…”

“It’s not good, is it?” Logan said, breaking the awkward silence as he looked to his friend. Virgil could barely look Logan in the eyes as emotion once again welled up in his throat. Should he tell him? Would it be harder or easier to not have him know? Virgil just looked at his lap, hands fidgeting, not knowing what to do, or what to say. Then, Logan’s outstretched hand landed on his knee, and softly squeezed. Virgil slowly met Logan’s eyes - the strands of grey in his white hair, the few wrinkles and age showing just how old he’d become, yet his eyes still held the same shine as they did when they met, full of wisdom and curiosity. 

Tears slowly fell from Virgil’s eyes as Logan’s began to water, looking at his friend with a comforting smile, and soon the two embraced, holding each other tightly as they cried.

————————————

“Elder Virgil, we need a word, if you have a minute?” Virgil looked up from Logan’s quarterstaff in his lap, and nodded, putting it aside and moving outside, grabbing his fur-lined cloak. Snow coated the ground as Virgil walked outside, watching children - the small and the tall, the old and the young - playing in the snow, laughing and smiling. His heart warmed watching them. 

“What seems to be the trouble, Hyfrid?” Virgil asked, turning his attention to the elf in front of him with black eyes and blonde, curly hair that was tied up to the top of his head in a bun. 

“Well, we’ve been having a few attacks near the southeast edge of the fence, a pack of dire wolves moved into the area. We’ve sanctioned off the area for now and sent a hunting party, but they haven’t returned and-”

“And you want me to deal with it?” Virgil questioned. 

“We were hoping you had any ideas on how to deal with them, seeing as you’re as close as a monster expert as we have.”

Virgil leaned on his cane as he stood up, and Hyfrid followed suit. Virgil looked at him. “Well?”

“Well what?”

“Are you going to show me where they are, or am I just going to have to scope it out?” Virgil asked, and Hyfrid looked confused. 

“You’re not seriously thinking about fighting the entire pack yourself?”

“There’s a problem that needs dealing with, so let’s go deal with it, huh?” Virgil said simply, moving and leaning on his cane slightly as he moved, walking southern, checking to make sure his dagger was where it should be, and smiling to find he hadn’t forgotten it. Hyfrid looked dumbfound, running to keep up. 

“As much as we appreciate your help, Elder Virgil, you…you’re not- we can handle this one ourselves, no need to worry-”

“Oh, I’m not worried, Hyfrid. A pack of dire wolves is a lot simpler to deal with than you think.” Virgil said. “Just gotta take down the alpha and we should be good to go. Will make a nice pelt, too.” He saw the wolves from a distance. “Ah, there we are.” He held out his cane to Hyfrid. “Would you hold this, please?”

Hyfrid slowly took the cane. “Elder Virgil, I really don’t think-”

Virgil jumped the fence and slowly approached the wolves, growling, as two others came to join them, one moving in front. Virgil quickly took his dagger and charged, striking it in the head as its claws sank into his arm and he winced slightly as the wolf went limp. The other wolves, at this began to slowly approach and growl, but Virgil simply laid the dead wolf on the ground, got on his hands and knees, and began to growl back, barking before running at them, chasing them away. He then stood up, satisfied, as he went back to get the wolf pelt.

“I told you Hyfrid, take down the Alpha and they’ll run away with their tails between their legs.”

—————————————-

“There’s got to be another way. You can’t leave.” Virgil said as he sat, watching Patton begin to pack. “It’s not safe out there alone, Pat.”

“I can’t just leave Thomas, he needs me. The kingdom’s at war again and he needs help.” Patton said, turning to grab his cloak. 

“Then why don’t we just all go? It’ll be safer.” Virgil asked. 

“Not with kids it won’t be. With the war right now, it’s not safe for them to travel.” Patton explained. “You and Logan need to stay here and make sure they’re safe. Thomas called on us, I’m the one who needs to go. From the letter, he’s not doing so well.”

Logan walked in the room and looked at Patton. “Finally got them all to sleep. They’re all worried about you, dear.”

“I can’t say I don’t agree, Pat.” Virgil said. “Thomas has other people there, you don’t need to go. Just stay, please.”

“I promise I won’t be gone long, okay? Around a week at most.” Patton said, shouldering a bag full of supplies. “Take care of the kids, make sure you get them to bed on time, and I promise I’ll be home soon.” Patton said, turning to leave and facing Logan, who slowly took his hands in his and brought them up to kiss the palms, making Patton smile. 

“I know you can handle yourself out there, but even so I can’t help but worry. Please… please be safe.” Logan said, as Patton brought his hand up to cup Logan’s cheek lovingly. “I don’t know what I’d do if…if…”

“Hey. I’m not going anywhere, Logie. I promise I’ll be back before you know it.” Patton kissed Logan’s cheek lovingly. “I love you.”

“I…I love you too, Patton.”

No one could have known. No one could have predicted it. It was a heavy thunderstorm, lightning cracking against the walls and sending the little ones to shivers. Logan sat, calming the children down as they dove to hide under the blankets, and telling stories. Virgil sat tending the fire and cooking the meal for the night’s dinner, smiling as he listened in on Logan’s story. 

No, they couldn’t have known, but that doesn’t mean the guilt goes away.

Virgil’s ears perked up at the sound of hooves outside as they suddenly came to a stop. Then, a knock at the door. Logan and Virgil share a glance as Logan gets up from his spot and Virgil as few paces behind, standing near Logan’s previous spot. The thunder boomed as the rain hit the roof in its own symphony. Logan opened the door.

“Thomas? What are you doing… where’s Patton?” Logan asked. The King looked saddened, and Virgil’s heart began to whisper ‘Oh no… not again…’ “Where’s Patton?” Logan repeated, and Thomas looked up to him. 

“He…he got ambushed, I sent out my best men looking for him, but… he was just… gone.”

“Gone? What do you mean gone?!” Logan yelled, and Thomas looked saddened again, staring at the floor. “Goddammit, answer me!”

Thomas took Logan’s hand, and slowly dropped something in the palm, closing it. “I’m… I’m so sorry, I…” Thomas seemed at a loss for words before turning around, getting on his horse and leaving. Logan still stood there, with the door open, rain splattering the ground outside, his palm closed tightly, stunned. 

A few of the older children had led the others into the bedroom, promising more stories, knowing that the two needed their privacy, not really knowing what was going on. Virgil slowly moved to put his hand on Logan’s shoulder. “Lo…?” Logan silently closed the door, and moved to sit next to the fire. Virgil’s stomach sank. Something was wrong. “Logan, is he…?”

Logan slowly took Virgil’s hand, and placed a golden wedding band inside it.

————————————————–

Duris had grown up to be a recruit and eventually fighter in King Lykos’s regime. She wrote many letters to Virgil and even visits when she can. Even though Virgil is happy and proud of Duris, he still misses their games of hide-and-seek and the hours telling stories. Skia grew up to be a researcher of different lands, and sends letters when he can to Virgil about his findings and adventures, much more scarce than Duris’s. 

Virgil relies more and more on his cane as the months pass, and soon enough can’t get up the hill anymore to visit the graves, and even just moving around becomes a struggle. Even though the family offers, Virgil insists he doesn’t need anyone to take care of him, and he can take care of himself just fine. The days bore on without Skia or Duris to fill it, Virgil staring out the window, remembering. 

Remembering hot chocolate and tea over jokes and books and smiles. 

Remembering sparring and practice and pride. 

Remembering acceptance and love and joy.

Remembering forgiveness and family. 

Remembering loss and grief and sadness.

Remembering Duris and Skia. 

Remembering Logan, Janus, Patton, Remus, and Roman.

Until one day, he stares out the window and can’t seem to remember anything. He struggles to remember, he has to remember! He couldn’t forget his love for them. He couldn’t have! He moved quickly around the house, looking at pictures and rings and staffs and swords, remembering bits and pieces at a time. He was determined if he couldn’t visit the graves, he was going to remember them. Forgetting them, it was like losing them all over again.

As he reached for a journal of Logan’s, he grabbed the book but lost his footing on the ladder, falling, falling, falling until he crashed into complete darkness. 

————————————-

Virgil read to Logan every day, no matter how boring the book. He made sure he reads all of Logan’s favorites. Logan coughed and sneezed between smiles, always leaning his head against Virgil’s shoulder as they read, eyes closed and peaceful, sometimes fast asleep. 

Virgil always made soup for Logan, smelling hearty and flavorful, which half the time ended up somewhere in a bag or on the floor by the afternoon. Virgil doesn’t mind, and gave him bread to eat instead when Logan’s stomach lurched. 

Despite Virgil’s 24-hour care for him, his condition slowly begins to deteriorate to coughing up mucus, to coughing up blood. His temperature flares, and his just lies in bed, lying in pain and suffering, struggling to sleep most nights. 

The two lay on the bed, hands linked together, staring up at the ceiling, a book they’d been reading laying open on top of Virgil’s stomach. “Virgil?”

“Hm?”

“Can you promise me something?”

“What?”

“When I… die, you need to move on. You can’t… blame yourself for any of this, you couldn’t have done anything, you know?”

“I…I know, Logan.”

“You can’t focus on the past, okay? It can’t be changed, no matter how much you wish it could. Be… be happy. Take care of yourself. Never be afraid of having family, of having friends who love you as much as we did.” Logan said, stopping for a silent moment. “We… don’t forget how much we love you. How much I love you.”

“I won’t, I…I promise.” Virgil said. “I love you so much, okay? And… and if you see the rest of those idiots up there, make sure they know how much I love them.”

“I promise.”

Nothing else was said that night, and Virgil woke up the next morning, quickly realizing Logan had passed in his sleep, his cold hand still wrapped around Virgil’s. Virgil slowly gave Logan’s forehead a parting kiss, and it was all over.

Then, Virgil was left alone.

—————————————–

Virgil was overly aware of his heartbeat as the world came to once again, a healer he couldn’t recognize patting his head with a cloth, staining it red. “Ah, there we are again! Welcome back. You took quite a fall there, scared us all half to death.”

“I fell?”

“Yep, quite a fall if I do say so myself. Cracked a few ribs, I might add. Once I’m done bandaging your head here, I’ll recheck your vitals for any more problems. Just hang in there, alright?”

Virgil’s eyes began to wander to the ceiling, letting his mind drift…

“Virgil? Virgil…?” The voice was familiar, he hadn’t heard it in years. He wanted to reach out and-

“Hey! Hey. Sir, I need you to stay awake, alright? Just stay with me, please.”

Virgil felt so tired, but tried his best to keep his eyes open…

“Virgil?! Oh I’ve missed you so-”

“Sir, SIR! Please don’t fall asleep on me.” The healer seemed anxious, but Virgil was far from anxious, he was tired, so tired… His heartbeat thumped louder and louder in his ears. 

“Virgil, I’ve waited so long to give you a hug again! You have no idea how much I’ve missed you!”

He felt colder and colder, the spot on his head growing warmer and warmer until it was boiling, and he felt someone press hard against the pain, making it worsen. He was in so much pain, he just wanted to sleep…

“Virgil, I love you.”

“I love-” “-you.”

[jabbajambler]

1

Powerless

The Mandalorian/Din Djarin x f!Oc

Word Count: 2,037

*GIF by @burning-chi-thunderfoot​*

          Tatooine was more barren than Din remembered. The sand and the hills went on for miles. Of course, they always did, but now it was more obvious that there was no one for as far as the eye could see. The line of the horizon was blurry, the blue sky blended with the sand that blew in the wind. There were only a few little wisps of the breeze here and there, but each one was like a breath of fresh air, supplying minor relief with its coolness.

         The planet, on nearly all accounts, was less than desirable. The duel suns made it unbearably hot and left everyone irritable. It's appearance was horrid and wasting away, but it had a few good qualities to it. For example: Myrah was from here.

          Myrah, a glowing beacon that could shine in even the darkest moments. At least, until she left with no sold reason. Din's jaw clenched at the thought. He was willing to risk everything for her, give her anything in the galaxy and she took off without a second thought. She made him feel like he mattered and watching her leave felt like a shot to the head.

         And he knew a thing or two about how that felt.

        The desert was quiet, a good place to think. The sun was bright and brutal, but it was quiet except for the bike as it sped over the hills. It kicked up sand and caused the wind to blow back the child's large, floppy ears. He squealed and giggled as they flew over the dunes. His bright smile was enough to lift anyone's spirits, especially the Mandalorian's.

         It didn't seem like there was anyone for miles. The land was barren except for the few ridges of beige rocks that only completed the image of emptiness. Din expected nothing, increasing the speed of the bike as he rode through. For the first time in months, he let his guard down.

        That was his first mistake.

         In his moment of weakness, he was knocked from the speeder by a trip-wire, sending him and the Child flying into the sand along with all of his belongings. The scavengers made quick work of firing their blasters at Din, each hit clinking off the beskar.

         "Get the child!" One shouted. The others quickly muttered their agreements in their own languages.

         The aliens each took their own turn battling the Mandalorian. While some managed to land a few hits, it ultimately ended with their own demise. Only one alien was left and while Din was battling the others, it grabbed ahold of the Child, grasping a knife firmly as the blade hovered near its neck.

         "Wait!" Din quickly clambered to his feet, his hands raised in surrender to the small being. He could've easily taken it down if it weren't for the baby in its arms. "Don't hurt the Child. If you put one mark on him there's no place you will be able to hide from me."

         The creature was silent, keeping its blade in place while the Child stared at the Mandalorian. "We can strike a bargain." Din continued. "There's a lot of value in this wreckage. Take your pick." He looked out across the belongings he had, now on fire or broken, along with the bike itself. "But leave the Child."

         It shouted and pointed to the jetpack on Din's back with its knife. He couldn't give it up, it was too useful, but luckily Din had no emotional ties to this little thing, only the one in the alien's arms.

         "Okay." Din agreed and detached the jetpack from his back. "Here. It's yours." He was careful as he approached it, placing it on the ground between them and cautiously stepping back. "Take it. It's okay."

         The alien nodded and placed the little green child on the ground, snatching up the pack as fast as it could. It quickly ran off while the kid took his opportunity to run up to Din, wobbling and nearly tripping over his clothing. Din scooped up the child in his arms, taking a moment to check him for any harm. A breath of relief escaped him with the child safe in his arms.

         "You okay?" He asked it, receiving an adorable coo in response. Din couldn't bear seeing the Child in any pain.

         With a quick click of a button, the alien shot up in the air, soaring high before crashing into the ground with a sickening thud. The Child snorted and looked up at the Mandalorian's helmet that only tilted to the side with a shrug. He brought the jetpack back, strapping it to a stick as he prepared to gather all of his recoverable belongings.

         It took about an hour to gather everything up and even longer to wander back to Mos Eisley. By the time he stumbled into the city, it was already dark out and he was growing weary after hauling everything around.

         The hangar was empty, leaving only one more option left in the town: the cantina. It was the only place this active after sunset. Most people would have gone home to their family, but sure enough, on the other side of the building was the mass of red hair that he was looking for, playing a game with a bug-looking alien with large, yellow eyes.

         Peli looked between her cards and Din as he stood silently next to the table. His belongings were all dangling from the stick that hung from his back and while she couldn't see his face, she could tell he was annoyed. Although, he gave off that tone all the time.

         "You finally found a Mandalorian and ya killed him?" She rolled her eyes and brought her attention back to her game.

         "He wasn't Mandalorian. I bought this armor off of him though."

         Peli scoffed, "what'd that set you back?"

         Din shrugged and shifted on his feet. "Killed the krayt dragon for him."

         "Oh. Is that all?"

         "He was my last lead on finding other Mandalorians." Din's tone dropped as he realized that he was out of ideas. He didn't want to stay on Tatooine for another second but he had nowhere else to go.

         The alien across from Peli grumbled and chattered in a language that the Mandalorian didn't quite understand. Thankfully, Peli did. If Din was willing to cover the alien, or, Dr. Mandible's round, he could connect him with someone who could help.

         Dr. Mandible croaked, likely a promise of some sort. While Din didn't know for sure, it made him sigh and fish out the credits from his pouch. He tosses them on the table, just hoping that he wouldn't be out that much money.

         "The pot right?" Peli questioned with a raise of her brow. When the creature grumbled, her eyes widened and a large smile grew across her face. "Ha! Idiot's Array! Pay up, thorax!" She jumped from her seat, quickly collecting all the credits that were spread about the table.

        "I thought you said he was on a hot-streak." Din snapped and shifted his belongings onto one shoulder.

         "Oh," Peli brushed him off, "stop your cryin'. You'll rust." Dr. Mandible spoke again, defeated. "Alright. He says the contact will rendezvous at the hangar. They'll tell you where to find some Mandalorians. That's what you wanted, right?"

         "Yes."

         "Alright, well, stop your mopin'. More importantly, did you bring back any of that dragon meat?" She stuffed her credits into her pockets and started walking back towards the hangar with Din trailing behind. "Better not have any maggots on it. I don't like maggots."

         Peli was quick to start up the fire-pit and slap the dragon meat onto a stick to roast once they returned to the hangar. The Child sat with wide eyes as he stared at the meat, ready to feast once it was done. He was hungry and bored of the dried food on the ship.

        "Here's the deal." Peli strutted over to the Mandalorian with her hands settled on her belt. There was a covert of Mandalorians only a sector over, who they were, no one knew, but they were certain they were there. The catch was, the contact wanted passage and to get there, he had to travel sublight.

         "Hold on." Din sighed, his mind burdened with the only idea he had left. "Fine. I have a stop to make first."

         "Ah hah! I knew you were missin' one of your crew. You're gonna go get your girl aren't ya?" She laughed. "And you'll come back for her?"

        "Yes." He promised, sending a nod to the Frog Lady that stood by the door. He would come back, he couldn't go back on his word but there was something important he had to do first. Something he didn't really want to do, but he was left with no other choice.

        The Razor Crest lifted into the air, quickly shooting off through the sky and towards the inner rim. His stomach was in a fit of nerves, nothing he was used to.

         Coruscant was painted in soft blues and yellows in the daylight. It was so beautiful and perfect. It made Din squirm. He didn't fit in here, no matter how many wonderful and horrid memories there were. He had to remind himself that he was here on a mission. There was a goal to be accomplished, it was not a time for frolicking through the city.

         Din settled the ship in the shipyard and wrapped the Child up in a small blanket while he tried to convince himself to leave. Each step he took through Coruscant was heavy as his feet dragged against the sidewalk. He was growing more and more nervous to the point he thought he might be sick.

         The buildings seemed larger than the first time he was there, more menacing; intimidating. He hated feeling so small.

          Part of him wanted to practice what he would say when he arrived. Should he be upfront? Confrontational? Maybe he could be completely silent and let her speak first, that always worked before.

         He managed to sneak past the main entrance and up the stairs to the door. The antagonizing, tall, red door. After many minutes of staring at the silver numbers that decorated it, he finally knocked. Before he could back out and run far away, the door swung open with a kind-looking redhead.

         "Mando!" She smiled brightly, as she always does. "What're you doing here?"

         A young woman, cloaked in yellow and green came to a sudden halt behind her. Din recognized the shiny brown hair immediately and though he wanted to avoid her gaze, he couldn't tear his eyes away from her.

         "Myrah." He breathed out, his eyes widening behind his helmet at the sight of the woman in front of him. She didn't look any different, but at the same time, so incredibly foreign. He was lost in her dark brown eyes and distracted by the way her yellow shirt fit her so perfectly.

          She seemed to glow, though it may have just been the sun that was shining through the large windows. She looked strong, too, stronger than he'd ever seen her. Her head was held high and she walked with the confidence of a solider.

          He'd spent months thinking about this moment, all of which were different. Some were angry, some sad, and others filled with so much joy that he had to cringe at it. But now, seeing her, he was lost on what to say. He could stand there and stare at her for hours if he could.

       She was everything he expected, everything he'd dreamed about, still the beacon of light that he once knew. He wished he could trap himself in this moment forever.

         Myrah watched Din in the doorway, bewildered but with a flurry of butterflies in her stomach. There was no more voice, no more quiet whispers. If anything, she could feel a slight push in his direction. She was so drawn to him and at this point, she embraced it.

        "Din."