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suddencolds · 2 months

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Atypical Occurrence [2/?]

hello!! 10 drafts and (exactly) 3 months later, I am finally back with part 2 of Atypical Occurrence 😭 You can read part 1 here!

This chapter is a little personal to me. I don't tend to linger on writing scenes like this (in part because they are a little difficult for me), so it took awhile to hammer out the dynamic I wanted. That said, here it is at long last!!

This is an OC fic ft. Vincent and Yves. Here is a list of everything I’ve written for these two! :)

—

Summary: Vincent shows up late to a meeting. It just goes downhill from there. (ft. fake dating, the flu, a house visit, and certain revelations)

—

There’s a grocery store that’s a ten minute drive from Vincent’s apartment. Yves picks out ingredients for chicken soup, two different kinds of cold and flu medicine, a new pack of cough drops, a few boxes of tissues, a small thermometer. All in all, it’s less than a thirty minute excursion—something he’s done many times before in uni, where everyone seemed to catch something in the middle of exam season, and a house visit was just a short walk away.

Chicken noodle soup isn’t difficult. He’s made it a hundred times—he’s experimented with a dozen different variations of it. He puts the groceries in the fridge, washes the vegetables, and gets to work.

While the soup cooks, he half watches it, half busies himself with cleaning the apartment—loading up the dishwasher and hand washing everything that doesn’t fit, stocking the fridge and the medicine cabinet with the groceries he’s gotten, vacuuming the floors with a vacuum cleaner he finds tucked behind the fridge.

Then he shreds the chicken, chops a round of fresh vegetables to add to the broth, and waits.

It’s comfortably quiet. Outside, rain drums steadily on the windowpane. It shows no signs of stopping soon. It’s dark enough outside—the sun fully set, the clouds heavy overhead—that the lit interior of the apartment kitchen feels like a warm reprieve.

Yves likes cooking. He doesn’t actively enjoy doing chores, but there’s something comforting to how mindless they are. It’s an appreciated distraction.

The rain outside is loud enough that he doesn’t hear the footsteps, approaching, until Vincent clears his throat from behind him.

Yves jumps.

“You’re up,” he says, spinning on his heels to face him. Vincent looks a little worse for the wear—his hair a little messy, his shirt slightly rumpled from sleep, his glasses perched haphazardly in place.

Yves watches him take everything in—the pot on the stove, the chopping board set out on the counter, the empty paper bags from the grocery run flattened and stacked into neat rectangles.

“And you’re still here,” Vincent says.

“I made soup,” Yves says, by way of explanation. “It’s chicken noodle. I wasn’t sure if you’d be up for trying something new.” He reaches over to lift the lid off of the pot of soup. Steam wafts up from it, carrying with it the faint scent of the aromatics he’d added—thyme, bay leaf, garlic, peppercorns. “Actually, you picked a good time to wake up. I just added in the noodles, so it’s almost done.”

Vincent eyes the pot, his expression unreadable. “Did you leave to get groceries?”

“Earlier, yeah. You weren’t kidding about your fridge being empty.”

Vincent frowns. “I can pay you back. Did you keep the receipt?”

In truth, the price of the groceries is the last thing on Yves’s mind right now. He waves a hand. “Don’t worry about it.”

“It must have taken a long time.”

“Soup is pretty forgiving. You just toss everything into a pot of boiling water and wait. It’s barely any work at all.”

Vincent stares at him for a moment longer. Then he says: “That’s an oversimplification.”

“Not really. Besides, I enjoy cooking,” Yves says. “Thanks for letting me use your kitchen—though, technically, I guess I’m asking forgiveness instead of permission. I’ll clean everything up, by the way.” He’s done dishes along the way, so there isn’t really much to do besides rinse off whatever’s left, load up the dishwasher, and store whatever’s left of the soup in the fridge.

“You don’t have to,” Vincent says, before turning into his elbow with a few harsh, grating coughs. “I can clean up. It’s my apartment.”

“If you think I’m letting you do household chores while you have a fever—”

“It’s not that high,” Vincent interrupts, perhaps a little stubbornly. Yves lets out a disbelieving laugh. He leans over the counter, shifts his weight forwards on his feet to press the back of his hand to Vincent’s forehead.

It’s concerningly hot, still, which isn’t a surprise. Though perhaps the way Vincent blinks, a little tiredly, and leans forward into Yves’s hand is a giveaway on its own.

“It’s definitely over a hundred,” Yves says, withdrawing his hand. “If you don’t believe me, I’ll have you know that I bought a thermometer.”

For a moment, Vincent looks surprised. Then he sighs. “That was an unnecessary purchase.”

“Are you admitting that I’m right?”

Vincent just frowns at him, which—Yves notes—isn’t exactly a denial. “Fever or not, there’s not much I can do except sleep it off.”

“You can go back to sleep after you’ve had something to eat,” Yves says. “What was it that you said? That you haven’t had anything to eat since yesterday?”

“...You won’t leave unless I eat, then,” Vincent says. He says it evenly enough that it barely registers as a question.

Yves smiles at him. It’s not a wrong conclusion. “Exactly,” he says.

—

In between the hallway and Vincent’s kitchen is a small dining area, furnished with a high table and two high chairs. Yves waits until the noodles are cooked just enough. Then he turns off the stove, unrolls a placemat to lay out on the dining table, and carries the pot over.

He gets everything he needs: two bowls, two spoons, some of the fresh parsley he’d chopped earlier, for garnish—and lays it all out.

“I can help,” Vincent says, for maybe the third time.

He’s seated on one of the chairs, which Yves had pointedly pulled out for him, looking like he’s perhaps a few seconds away from getting out of his seat and doing everything himself. It’s just like Vincent, Yves thinks, to offer to help—even at work, aside from all the work he takes on, it feels like he’s always finding some way or other to be useful.

Yves says, “When you’re not running a fever, you can ask me again.”

When everything is laid out, he pulls up a chair for himself, so he can sit across from Vincent—who is still perched on his seat, though he looks a little less like he wants to get out of it. “You didn’t have to wait for me,” Yves says.

Vincent blinks at him. “It would have been rude to get started on my own.”

“Nonsense,” Yves says. “I made it for you.”

He takes a bite. The soup tastes fine. That is, it tastes the same as every other time he’s made it—light and comforting. It’s just one of those recipes Yves thinks he can make in his sleep. Nothing about it is particularly inventive. Still, he hasn’t cooked for Vincent before—not formally, at least, other than the dish he’d bought to Joel’s potluck—so it’s a little nerve-wracking to watch Vincent take a bite.

It’s worse, still, to watch his eyes widen by a fraction. For a moment, Yves wonders if he’s done something wrong—if perhaps, it isn’t to Vincent’s taste, after all. He sets his spoon down. “Is it okay?”

“It’s really good,” Vincent says. “I can see why Mikhail said what he said.”

“What?”

“That your cooking was half the reason why he roomed with you.”

Yves laughs. “So does that mean you’ll forgive me for trespassing?”

Vincent smiles back at him. “I’ll consider it.” Now, with his glasses off, Yves can see his eyes a little more clearly—they’re slightly red-rimmed, his eyelashes long and dark, his cheeks flushed brighter with fever. There’s a little crease at the edge of his eyes which shows up when he smiles.

Yves is caught off guard, for a moment. The tightness in his chest is nothing, he tells himself. Certainly not a crush that he shouldn’t be allowed to have.

A crush. That’s new, too. It’s ironic, considering the terms of their fake relationship. He thinks it’s probably supposed to make him better at this—what better way to feign romantic interest than to not have his feelings be so fake, after all?—but instead, he finds himself at an uncharacteristic loss for words, finds himself stumbling over the most basic of pleasantries.

Of course, he has no intention of acting on his feelings. Vincent is attractive, yes—but he’s also considerate, and attentive, and hardworking enough to go early and stay late, to take on work he doesn’t get credit for. He’s thoughtful enough to entertain Yves’s friends, to have lunch with Yves’s siblings, to fly all the way to france to meet Yves’s family.

But all of that is inconsequential. None of it is going to amount to anything, because Yves knows how to keep his distance. Because Yves needs this—the perks of their fake relationship—more than he needs to indulge in any inconvenient crush. Because he knows enough to know how things would turn out if he were to say something.

That’s the thing. Vincent isn’t cruel. It’s for that reason, precisely, that Yves knows that he’d drop this arrangement immediately if he knew. Vincent would never string him along knowingly, and that’s what makes this so much worse—Yves has gone and gotten himself stupidly attached.

Now that they’re sitting across from each other, in Vincent’s apartment, having dinner, Yves thinks—a little selfishly, perhaps—that this is the best that he can ask for. It is all that he can ask for. Far better to keep up the pretense entirely, far better to pretend that this is all just for show. When they put an end to this arrangement—someday, inevitably—Yves will thank Vincent for everything, and then they’ll go their separate ways. He already knows how it will go. There is no need to complicate things.

It’s quiet, for some time. Yves finishes his bowl first, heads over to the sink to rinse it off, and positions it neatly in the lowest compartment of the dishwasher. When he gets back, Vincent is spooning more soup into his bowl. Yves allows himself to feel a little relieved to see that he has an appetite.

“It’s been awhile,” Vincent says, after some time. “Since anyone’s done this for me.”

“Made you chicken soup?” Yves says, a little puzzled. “If you want the recipe, I can give it to you. I make it all the time.”

“No,” Vincent says. His expression is unparseable. “Just— since anyone’s looked after me, in general.”

“Oh.” Yves finds his mind is spinning. “How long have you been living alone?”

“Since university. I had suitemates, in my second year. Then I got an apartment of my own.”

“Because you like the privacy?”

“It was just simplest.”

Yves thinks back to his years, rooming with Mikhail—the conversations they’d have to have to figure out groceries, to alternate cooking dinner and doing dishes, to manage transportation. He has a studio apartment now, too, but he’s over at his neighbors’ house frequently enough, or otherwise at home with Leon and Victoire for dinner, so it doesn’t really get lonely.

“You have a pretty spacious kitchen,” he says. “I hope you don’t mind that I used your pots and pans. I’ll wash them, I swear.”

Vincent takes in a small, sharp breath. Yves looks up just in time to see him twist away from the table, tenting his hands over his nose and mouth.

“hhIHh’IIKTS-HHuhh-!”

“Bless you!” Yves exclaims. Judging by the way Vincent keeps his hands raised over his face, he assumes that there are going to be more. He rises from his seat, heads back into the kitchen in search for—ah. Six boxes of tissue boxes, stacked neatly into a block. He tears off the thin plastic film around them, removes a box from the pile, and pulls off the tab.

When he gets back to the dining table, Vincent is ducking into steepled hands with another—

“hhih’GKKT-SHHh-uuUh! hh’DDZSChh-HHuh! snf-Snf-! hhh… Hh… hh-HH-hh’yIIDDzsSHH-hHUH-!!”

The sneezes seem to scrape painfully against his throat, for the way he winces in their aftermath. He twists away from Yves to cough lightly, after, into his shoulder, his eyes watering. “Bless you!” Yves pushes the tissue box towards him. “Here.”

Vincent takes a tissue from the box, blows his nose quietly. When he emerges, lowering the tissue from his face, his eyes are a little watery. He eyes the tissue box. “Did you buy these earlier, too?”

“I did,” Yves says. “I picked up some medicine, too. I didn’t know what flavor you wanted, so I got a couple different kinds. And some other stuff—your fridge was getting pretty empty, by the way—in case you needed it.”

Vincent lifts his head to study him, as if there’s something he’s trying to understand. Finally, he says, “Do you do this for all of your friends?”

“What?”

Vincent frowns, as if the subject matter should be obvious. “Cook for them. Get groceries. Clean their apartment.”

“Sometimes,” Yves says. He’s certainly no stranger to stopping by to help—sometimes with homemade soup, or tea packed tightly in a thermos, or something else. Then again, that was easier to do back in uni, when everyone lived within a twenty minute radius. “It depends on what they need.”

“So this is just a Yves thing.”

“What? Showing consideration for my friends?”

“Showing consideration is one thing,” Vincent answers. “You could have left after dropping off the files. You would still have been showing your consideration.”

“I guess that’s true. But at that point, I was already here,” Yves says, with a shrug. “It seemed logical to check up on you.”

“Well, now you’ve checked up on me,” Vincent says. “So you can go.”

Yves supposes this is true.

“Do you want me to go?” he asks.

Vincent says, “It’s late. I assume you have things to get home to.”

“That’s not what I asked,” Yves says.

Vincent says nothing to that.

But Yves gets the message, even without him saying it. If Vincent is the type of person who prefers to be alone when sick, Yves won’t take it personally. He doesn’t want to overstay his welcome—arguably, he’s already stayed for much longer than Vincent had invited him to.

There’s leftover soup in the fridge—enough to last Vincent a couple days, hopefully through the worst of this—and Vincent’s apartment is reasonably well-stocked now. He has something to take if his fever gets any higher; he has all the basic supplies Yves could think of off the top of his head.

And Vincent is a lot of things, but he isn’t irresponsible. He’s shown himself to be self-sufficient more times than Yves can count. There’s no reason why Yves should have to stay and look after him for any longer—no reason, perhaps, aside from the fact that seeing Vincent ill has left him more worried than he’d like to admit.

“Okay,” he says. “I’ll go. But at least let me clean up first.”

He does dishes, leaves the cutting boards and the pot out to dry on the drying rack, transfers the soup to smaller glass containers to store it in the fridge. He returns the vacuum cleaner to the storage closet he found it in. Then, as promised, he gathers his things—not much, just his phone and his car keys—and heads toward the front door.

Vincent follows him to the door, presumably to lock it after he leaves.

Yves steps outside, lingers for just a moment on the doorstep. The car is parked close enough that he hadn’t bothered to grab his umbrella, but now it’s dark out, and it’s raining just as hard.

“I left new cough drops on the kitchen countertop,” Yves says, biding his time under the overhang until he inevitably has to get rained on. “The medicine’s in your bathroom, behind the mirror, with the thermometer. Everything else is either on the counter or in the fridge. Don’t come back to work until your fever’s completely—”

It happens in a moment: Vincent stumbles. Yves is looking at him, which means he sees the exact moment when it happens. Yves doesn’t think, just reacts—he reaches out to grab his arm to keep him from falling entirely.

“Woah,” he says, steadying him. “Are you—”

Vincent’s hand is concerningly warm, even through the fabric of his sleeve. For a moment, he leans into Yves’s touch, though this seems less intentional as it is inevitable. He’s breathing heavily, his eyes tightly shut, his shoulders rising and falling not as soundlessly as usual.

Yves swallows past the alarm he feels percolating in his chest. Had he been about to pass out? Just how high is his fever right now? “Vincent—”

“Sorry,” Vincent manages, through gritted teeth. He makes an effort to regain his balance, to move away. He sways on his feet, and Yves feels the panic in his chest rise anew.

He reaches up and slings an arm around his waist. “Hey,” he says, trying for reassuring. “I’ve got you.”

Vincent doesn’t say anything, to that. He just stands there, perfectly still, his eyebrows drawn together, his shoulders a little stiff under Yves’s touch.

Without letting go of him, Yves shuts the front door gingerly behind him, toes his shoes off at the door again. “I think it would be best if you laid down,” he says. “Do you think you can walk?”

Vincent nods, slowly. Yves tracks the bob of his throat as he swallows.

“Sorry,” Vincent says, again. “I… didn’t expect it to be an issue.”

He’s frowning, hard, as if he’s upset with himself, though Yves can’t quite piece apart why he’d have reason to be. “Hey, no apologizing,” Yves says. “Save your energy for walking.”

Vincent seems to understand that their current arrangement will not change until he’s in bed, so he lets Yves steer him towards the bedroom. It’s a short walk—down the hallway and then off to the left—but Yves spends half of it distracted by how warm Vincent is. Like this, he practically radiates heat.

It’s not until Vincent is settled on his bed, the blankets pulled loosely over him, that Yves allows himself to let go.

Truthfully, the last thing he wants to do right now is leave. But it isn’t about what he wants, and perhaps Vincent would sleep better if he did.

“Are you warm enough?” Yves asks. The words feel heavy on his tongue.

A nod.

“Do you need me to get you anything else?”

Vincent shakes his head.

“Okay,” Yves says. “I guess I shouldn’t overstay my welcome, then.”

Vincent will be fine, he tells himself. At the end of the day, they are only coworkers, and Vincent is one of the most independent people he knows. If Vincent doesn’t want him here, the best Yves can do is comply with his wishes. He straightens. “Text me if you need anything, I mean it.”

He lets go of the blanket, rises to his feet. Only, then—

There’s a hand on his sleeve, tugging.

Yves goes very still.

When Vincent notices what he’s done, alarm flashes through his expression, and he pulls his hand away as if he’s burned.

“Sorry,” he murmurs, again. And just like that, he’s back to how he always is—his expression perfectly, carefully neutral, in a way that can only be constructed. “I’m sorry.” But Yves doesn’t forget what he’s seen. “You can go.”

Yves’s heart aches. He settles back at the edge of the bed, reaches out a hand, settles it gently at the edge of Vincent’s forehead. At the physical contact, Vincent’s breath catches.

And for a second, Yves wonders if he’s made a mistake—if maybe Vincent doesn’t want to be touched, right now. If he’s misread the situation; if Vincent wants him to go, after all. He opens his mouth to apologize.

But then Vincent shuts his eyes. The tenseness to his expression eases, almost imperceptibly, his eyebrows unfurrowing. Oh, Yves realizes. His head must hurt—Yves suspected as much—but if he’s not mistaken, the expression on Vincent’s face right now is…

Relief. Cautiously, Yves traces his fingertips lightly over the edge of Vincent’s temple, combs them slowly through his hair. Vincent’s eyes stay shut, but the furrow to his eyebrows loosens, and his jaw unclenches, just a bit. The change is minute, almost imperceptible. If Yves weren’t paying close attention, he might’ve missed it.

As if he could pay attention to anything else, right now.

Tentatively, Yves cards his fingers through Vincent’s hair, traces slow circles into his scalp, slowly, carefully. He does it until the heartbeat he feels thrumming under his fingertips—quick and erratic—slows. Until Vincent’s breathing evens out, until the hurt in his expression dulls. Until the tension in his shoulders eases.

By the time he finally withdraws his hand, Vincent is fast asleep. Yves fetches a new glass of water for his nightstand, changes out the plastic bag lining the trash can, and lines the cough drops and medicine up at the edge of Vincent’s desk. He flips through folder 2-A, assessing.

Then he heads back out to his car to get his laptop, and gets to work.

—

He doesn’t remember falling asleep.

But when he wakes at Vincent’s desk, it’s to an unpleasant ache in his neck that spreads laterally into his shoulders—probably from sleeping with his head pillowed awkwardly against his arms. He lifts his head.

Behind him, there’s a weak, uncertain breath, and then the sort of cough that makes Yves’s chest hurt in sympathy. It sounds wrong, somehow—too quiet, for its proximity. Muffled.

It’s dark inside, aside from the faint glow of Vincent’s digital alarm clock, the pale green digits cutting into the black. He hears the rustling of blankets, followed by another short, painful intake of breath.

The sneeze that follows is stifled into something. Even stifled, it sounds uncharacteristically harsh—all force, pinched off into a short, muffled outburst which sounds barely relieving, at best.

“hH’ih’iNNGKkk-t!”

Yves blinks. Then he leans over the desk to flick on the lamp. Dull golden light suffuses the desk, bright enough to cast Vincent in form and graying color.

“Are you okay?”

At the light, Vincent’s eyes widen. He looks—stricken, somehow. Then his expression shutters, and he frowns. “Did i—” he stops to cough again into his fist. It sounds as though each breath he’s taking in is an effort of its own, shallow and unsatisfying. When he speaks again, his voice sounds noticeably hoarser. “—Did I wake you?”

Yves opens his mouth to respond. Before he can think up a convincing excuse, Vincent shakes his head dejectedly, as if he already knows the answer.

“Sorry,” he says. “I was - cough, cough - tryidg to be quiet.”

Quiet. As to not wake Yves, presumably. The revelation causes an ache to settle somewhere deep inside of him, heavy and inexorable. Yves is more than certain that this flu is already miserable enough on its own, even without the added challenge of having to be quiet about it. He wants to say, do you really think that’s what matters to me? He wants to ask, how long have you been up dealing with this on your own?

“You don’t have to be quiet,” is all he manages, instead. It’s a miracle that his voice manages to come out as evenly as it does.

Vincent looks like he’s about to say something. But before he has a chance to, he twists away to cough harshly into his shoulder. Now that he doesn’t make an attempt to muffle the coughing fit, Yves can hear just how harsh it sounds.

It’s the kind of coughing fit that just sounds exhausting—forceful enough to leave tears brimming at the edges of his eyelashes, his breaths coming in shallowly.

“Can I get you anything?” Yves asks, when Vincent is done coughing.

Vincent just looks back at him, unmoving. In the dim light of the desk lamp, he looks perhaps more exhausted than Yves has ever seen him—really, he looks as though he hasn’t slept at all. He’s seated with his back against the headboard with a blanket pulled around his shoulders. One of his hands is clenched loosely around it, pinning the corners in place.

“Tea?” Yves offers, because it’s better than saying nothing. “Water, cough drops. A cold compress?” Vincent doesn’t say anything, but Yves thinks, a little helplessly, that there must be something he can do. “Extra blankets? Tissues? Ibuprofen?”

“Water… would be nice,” Vincent says, as if it takes a lot out of him to admit it. Yves blinks, surprised—he had half expected no answer at all. At Yves’s split second of hesitation, Vincent’s frown deepens, his grip around the blankets tightening slightly. “...If it’s not too much trouble.”

Yves has never gotten out of his seat faster. “Of course,” he says. “I’ll be right back.” he swipes the empty glass from the nightstand and heads out into the hallway.

It’s dark. There aren’t many windows in the hallway to let in light from outside, but once he gets to the dining room, it gets easier to see. Judging by how dark it is outside, there are probably a few hours left until sunrise. It’s still early, then. Early enough that it’s quiet, around them—no traffic out on the streets, save for the original car, headed to who-knows-where; no neighbors going about their early morning routines; just the steady trickle of rain on the windowsill. Yves rinses the cup out in the sink, shakes it dry, and fills it again.

When he makes it back to the bedroom, it’s unusually quiet. Vincent is still sitting at the edge of his bed, looking like he hasn’t moved at all since Yves left the room.

Yves crosses the room to hand him the glass. Vincent blinks up at him, a little blearily.

“I got you water,” Yves says, unnecessarily.

Vincent takes the glass from him with both hands, as if he doesn’t quite trust himself to hold it with just one. Yves looks away as he drinks.

When Vincent lowers the glass at last, Yves takes it from him and sets it back into place onto the bedside table. He straightens, turns to face Vincent again. “Any better now?”

Vincent nods. It’s quiet, for a moment. Outside, the rain has nearly stopped—the room is soundless, aside from the thin whirring of the air conditioning. “I didn’t think you’d still be here.”

Yves hums. “To be honest, I didn’t either.” He stifles a yawn into one hand—he’s still a little tired. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

“You must be tired,” Vincent frowns, looking him over. “You came right from a full day of work to check on me. Does your neck hurt?”

“What?”

Vincent inclines his head towards his desk. “I’ve fallen asleep there before. It’s not very comfortable.”

Yves thinks he shouldn’t be surprised, at this point, that Vincent has picked up on something so subtle. “It’s not that bad,” he says, reaching up with a hand to massage his neck. “My neck would probably be sorer if I’d slept through the whole night. I should thank you for waking me.”

“You could’ve taken the couch instead,” Vincent says, a little disapprovingly. “It would probably have been wiser.”

“I wanted to be here so I could keep an eye on you,” Yves says, because it’s true. “Besides, you sat in a chair while I slept in France. That can’t have been comfortable either.”

“It’s not just about that. You—” Vincent raises a hand up to his face, ducks into his wrist for a sudden: “hh-! hhiH’GKT-sSHuh! snf-!” He sniffles, then presses the wrist closer to his face, his expression shuttering. “Hh… hh’IIDDZshH’Uhh-!”

“Bless you!” Yves says, startled.

Vincent blinks, a little teary-eyed, turning over his shoulder to muffle a few harsh coughs into his wrist. “You shouldn’t have slept so close to me. I really don’t want you to catch this.”

He’s frowning, as if it really is a big deal. As if even now, even shivering and feverish, it’s somehow Yves that he’s more worried about right now.

Yves isn’t particularly concerned about that—he has no shortage of sick time to take off of work, in any case. If he does manage to catch this from Vincent, he’ll just stock up on essentials before the worst of it hits. It would be nothing he hasn’t done before. Still, Vincent looks so—well, so tornby the mere possibility of it that Yves wants to say something to comfort him.

“How about this?” he says. “If you’re so worried about it, you can buy me cough drops next time I come down with something, deal? Then we’ll be even.”

Vincent’s eyebrows furrow. “That’s a terrible deal for you.”

“I’ll get sick at some point in my life, anyways,” Yves says, with a shrug. “If this means I get free cough drops out of it, I’d say it’s a win.”

He moves the desk chair over so he can sit down at the edge of Vincent’s bed. Vincent watches him, uncertain. He looks like he’s resisting the urge to say something—to tell Yves to move further away, probably.

“Relax,” Yves says, reflexively. “It’ll be fine, seriously. I know what I signed up for.”

He leans forward, presses the back of his hand against Vincent’s forehead. Vincent closes his eyes. A slight tremor passes through his shoulders at the contact, but aside from that, he stays perfectly still.

“Your fever’s worse than before,” Yves says, withdrawing his hand.

“It’s not.” Vincent’s eyes are still shut. “The temperature is just higher because it’s night time.”

The suggestion is so far from comforting that Yves almost laughs. “You know,” he says, “that’s not very reassuring.” The blanket around Vincent’s shoulders starts to slip, so Yves reaches over and snags an edge of it, fluffs the whole thing outwards to lay it neatly around Vincent’s shoulders, like a cloak. Secures it with a loose knot. “Are you feeling any better than before?”

Vincent does open his eyes, now. He looks as though he’s trying hard to figure out how acceptably he can lie. “I…”

“You can be honest.”

Vincent’s jaw clenches. He reaches up with one hand, his fingers curling around the blanket Yves set down around him.

“My head feels heavy,” he says. He screws his eyes shut, his eyebrows furrowing. “And my chest hurts.” He lets out a short, frustrated breath, as if every sentence is a new and difficult admission. “I’m… not used to getting sick like this.”

Yves’s hands still. “Like what?”

“In any way that would necessitate taking time off from work,” Vincent says, looking away. The discomfort sits, plainly and indisputably, in the way he holds himself—his shoulders stiff, his jaw clenched—everything a little too tense, despite his exhaustion.

Yves stares at him for a moment, considering. In the end, it’s the small, impulsive thought that wins out.

He takes a seat at the edge of the bed, next to Vincent. The mattress dips under his weight.

Vincent has always been taller than him, but sitting down like this, they nearly see eye to eye. It’s a risk, of course, to offer this. He and Vincent haven’t been physically intimate outside of the times where they’ve had to prove their relationship to an audience. But when he thinks back to how Vincent reacted to Yves feeling his forehead, or Yves carding his hands through his hair—if he hasn’t misread, it almost feels like—

Yves opens his arms out in offering, tries on a smile. “I’ve been told I give good hugs. Good enough to cure all ailments, obviously.”

For a moment, Vincent stays perfectly still. Yves has five seconds to overthink all of his actions over the past twenty four hours.

Then Vincent inches closer, ever so slightly, to lean his head on Yves’s shoulder.

Yves curls his arms around him. There’s the slightest hitch in Vincent’s breath, at the contact. Then the stiffness seeps out of his shoulders, and he presses a little closer—as if he’s allowed himself permission, at last, to let go.

His whole body is concerningly warm. “You’re burning up,” Yves says, softly. He reaches up with one hand to run his fingers through Vincent’s hair.

“...I figured,” Vincent says. The next breath he takes comes in a little shakily. “Whoever gave you the review was right. You are a good hugger.”

Yves laughs, a little surprised. “Careful. You’re going to inflate my ego if you keep talking.”

“I can’t help it if it’s true.”

Yves has hugged a fair share of people in his life. He doesn’t think he’d be able to list them all if he were asked to. It’s different, though, being so close to Vincent—so close that Yves can reach out and let his hair fall through his fingertips. He can lift up his palm and feel the rigid line of his spine, the slope of his shoulders; he could reach out and trace the dip of his wrist, the form of his hand. Vincent’s chin digs slightly into his left shoulder. His nose is turned slightly into Yves’s neck—like this, he is almost perfectly still. Yves can feel the warm brush of air against his neck whenever Vincent exhales. He is so close that Yves is afraid, for a moment, that he might hear how badly his heart is racing.

Would dating Vincent be like this? Would this kind of exchange be given and received as easily as anything? Yves wills himself not to think about it. This is nothing, he tells himself, but a simple offering of comfort between friends. To think otherwise would be disingenuous.

They stay like that for some time. Time slows, or perhaps it expands or collapses—really, Yves would be none the wiser. The whir of the ceiling fan and the light rain on the rooftop a constant. When Vincent pulls away at last, it’s to turn sharply off to the side to muffle a sneeze into his sleeve.

“Hh-! hhIH’IIDZsSHM-FF! snf-!”

“Bless you,” Yves says, blinking. The sudden absence of warmth is a little jarring. But Vincent isn’t done.

His eyebrows draw together, and he ducks tighter into his elbow, his shoulders jerking forward. “hHIH’iiGKKTsSHH—! Sorry, I— Ihh-! hHHh’DZZSSCHh—uH-!”

“Bless you again,” Yves says, reaching past him to hand over the box of tissues on the nightstand. He holds out the box for Vincent to take.

Vincent turns away to blow his nose. When he returns, he’s a little teary eyed. The flush on the bridge of his nose hasn’t gone away.

“When I asked you to come over,” he says, “I wasn’t expecting you to stay.”

Yves blinks. “Is it so strange for me to be here?”

To that, Vincent is quiet, for a moment. Yves looks out the window, where he can see the skyline, off in the distance, the dark form of the apartment building across the streets, the street in between lit dimly with golden streetlights.

“A little,” he says. “When I was young, if I got sick, it wasn’t really a big deal.”

At Yves’s expression, he amends: “That’s not to say that my family didn’t care, because they did. No one spent too long in my room—better to not risk catching it, if they could help it—but back then, if I didn’t have much stomach room, my mom always cut fruits for me to leave on my desk. Sometimes she made ginseng tea, too.” he shuts his eyes. There’s a strange expression on his face—something a little more complicated than wistfulness.

“We had a habit of keeping the heat off, in the winters, and closing the windows. But if I was running a fever, my brother always made sure to keep the heat on.” His lip twitches, almost imperceptibly. Then: the smallest of smiles. “Sometimes he’d stay outside my door to talk about his day. He was the class lead, back when he was in high school. It was always something inconsequential, like which of his classmates he liked and which ones he held a grudge against, and why. Almost always for the smallest reasons, like someone borrowing a pencil and forgetting to give it back, or someone tossing the ball to him in gym class.”

“Were you and your brother close?” Yves asks.

“Close is relative,” Vincent says. “I never really knew how to—inhabit his world, I guess. When I moved to the states, and when I decided to stay here, part of it was out of some sort of defiance. I didn’t want to have to follow in his footsteps, because then I could only ever be focused on doing things differently.”

He shuts his eyes. “But I felt close to him, then. When he stood outside my room and told me those stories. Even if they were things I wouldn’t have cared about had they happened to me, I guess. It’s strange how that works.”

“I think I know what you mean,” Yves says. He’s always had a good relationship with Leon and Victoire, though that doesn’t mean they’ve always seen eye to eye on things. “Sometimes it’s less about what they say, and more about the fact that they’re saying it.”

Vincent nods. “They all cared about me in their own way,” he says, at last. “I don’t think I appreciated the extent of it at the time. When you’re a kid, you tend to take everything at face value.”

“Do you regret it?” Yves asks. “What?”

“Not appreciating them more, back then.”

Vincent smiles. “I was just a kid. I suppose it’s natural that I didn’t know better.” Yves has a feeling that that statement is perhaps further reaching than Vincent is making it out to be. “I didn’t think much about it at the time.”

“Do you ever miss being part of a large household?”

“It’s peaceful on my own,” Vincent says, at last. “I usually don’t mind it. I usually have other things to worry about.”

He hasn’t asked if the information is useful to Yves, Yves realizes, a little belatedly. Back then, at Joel and Cherie’s potluck, Vincent had seemed to believe that the only way Yves could possibly be interested in him was if the information could serve their fake relationship, somehow.

The realization settles him. Perhaps Vincent has shared this because he knows Yves cares.

“Your apartment is nice,” Yves says, trying to ignore the insistent beat of his heart in his chest, which all of a sudden seems to want to make itself known. “I can see why you would like living here.”

Vincent tilts his head up towards the ceiling. “It’s not the same, of course. As home. Though that’s a given.” Yves notes the usage of the word: home. Here, instead of home, the clarifier salient, even though Vincent’s done nothing to emphasize it. Could it be that after all these years, Vincent still considers Korea to be home, for him? “When I’ve had people over, it was just for dinner. Not for…”

He looks over to Yves, now. Yves knows what he means, knows how to fill in the rest of the sentence: not for the reason you’re here, now.

“I know I’ve intruded a little,” Yves says, with a laugh.

Vincent frowns at him, his eyebrows furrowing. “I wouldn’t consider it an intrusion,” he says. “You’ve helped me a lot. I just—I’m a little embarrassed that your first time over had to be under these circumstances.”

Your first time over. Yves ignores—well, tries to ignore—the implication that this could be the first out of many. That he might have another opportunity, in the future, to swing by. Vincent hasn’t confirmed anything, and it’s not likely that their fake dating arrangement would warrant another house visit, out of the public’s eye. Yves tells himself that the warmth he feels in his chest is misplaced.

“You don’t have to worry about that. I like seeing you,” Yves says.

Vincent raises an eyebrow at him. “Even bedridden with a fever?”

Isn’t it obvious? “Of course.”

“I’ve been terrible company,” Vincent says. “And even worse of a host. I recall I fell asleep yesterday, only for you to spend two hours cleaning my apartment?”

“Vacuuming is therapeutic.”

“You said that about cooking, too,” Vincent says, narrowing his eyes. “Am I supposed to believe that you enjoy doing all household chores?”

“It’s not like you made me do them. I just wanted to be useful, and your vacuum was easy to find.”

“I’ll be sure to hide it thoroughly next time,” Vincent says, deadpan.

Yves laughs. “It’s like I said,” he says. “I like spending time with you. Even—” To steal Vincent’s words from earlier. “—bedridden with a fever.”

Vincent huffs a sigh, a little incredulously.

“Though, I promise I won’t intrude for much longer,” Yves tells him. “I’ll probably head out in the morning.” He’s almost done with the work Vincent has on his desk—he’d fallen asleep checking over one of the income statements for discrepancies. A few hours should be enough time to make sure that everything is in order. He still has work at eight—he’ll probably be a little tired for it, considering how late he’d slept, but that’s nothing new.

“I’m sorry,” Vincent says, averting his glance. He frowns down at himself, as if he really is apologetic. “You must’ve had other evening plans.”

None as important as taking care of you, Yves catches himself thinking. He can’t say things like that if he wants to keep this—well, this unfortunate recent development, i.e., his feelings for Vincent—to himself.

“It wasn’t just for you,” he says, instead.

“What?”

“I didn’t just do it for you.”

Vincent blinks at him, a little confused. “Are you going to say you get personal gratification out of seeing my apartment clean?”

“It’s like you said,” he says. “I’ve never seen you this unwell. You said this doesn’t happen often, right? When you didn’t show up at work, I…” The next admission feels a little too honest—but there’s a small, unwise part of him that wants to get it across, regardless. “I was really worried. Even though you said you had everything covered, I wanted to make sure you were fine.”

Vincent nods. “I get it. It would be an inconvenience if I were unfit to be your fake—”

“It has nothing to do with that,” Yves interrupts him. His heart hurts a little, with it. “I wanted to see that you were fine because I care about you. To be honest, I think I would’ve spent the entire night worrying if I hadn’t come.” He laughs, a little self-deprecatingly. “It’s a little selfish, I know.”

Vincent’s eyes are very wide.

“Anyways,” Yves says, with the sinking feeling that he’s said too much, “you should try to get some more sleep.” He rearranges the blankets around Vincent, a little unnecessarily, fluffs the extra pillow that’s leaned up against the headboard, and turns away. “It’s still really early. If you’re planning to be back in office next week, it would be best to keep your sleep schedule intact.”

“Yves,” Vincent says, from behind him.

“Hmm?”

“...Thank you.”

When Yves works up the courage to look over, Vincent is smiling, unreservedly, as if something Yves has said has made him very happy.

Yves’s heart stutters in his chest. Fuck.

(On second thought, it might not be so easy to live with these feelings, after all.)

—

At daybreak, Yves drives home to get changed, takes a quick shower while he’s at it, and heads off for work. He yawns through half his morning meetings, adds an extra espresso shot to the coffee he snags from the break room.

The text arrives halfway through the day, just before he’s intending to head downstairs for lunch.

V: When I asked you to bring folder 2-A, I didn’t mean for you to complete my work along with it.

Yves smiles. He’d emailed Vincent the completed work from yesterday’s late-night work session before he’d left. Vincent must’ve seen it.

Y: some genie i met told me your wish was to have your work done before the deadline

V: What are you talking about?

Y: he also told me you were very stubborn about not redistributing your assignments to anyone else Y: so you can’t blame me for taking matters into my own hands

V: Yves.

Y: feel free to check it over for errors :)

#sneeze fic #snz fic #sneeze kink #snz kink #snzfic #- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -#- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - (adding in my a/n under the cut)#i have a lot of thoughts about this chapter as a whole #just editing + finishing off the last 2k of this took me 12 hours T.T #(maybe unsurprisingly) emotional intimacy and caretaking are very hard for me to write;#of the fics i've posted to this blog not many of them focus on the c portion of the h/c just in general?#so this was somewhat uncharted territory for me #i hope it's not too niche to resonate w anyone else 😭🙏#yvverse #my fic #also on a lighter note. i have been looking forward to writing yves caretaking for so long 😭😭😭😭😭

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birdmitosis · 10 months

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You know how you can get the "you're special" conversation with the Narrator in the various Chapter IIs? Well, I got very curious about everyone's responses to that, and some of these are very interesting...

At its base, the conversation goes like this:

And then whatever other voice you have with you chimes in after that. There are a few exceptions that I'll cover because I find them interesting, but the ones that follow this pattern are:

Broken

Cheated

Hunted

Opportunist

Skeptic

Smitten

(Some of the above have further back-and-forth with the Narrator, but that's a bit outside the point of this post!)

There are a few variations that really intrigue me, though...

One just changes up the order slightly, nothing else, but I think even this simple change still has some character implication to it:

Stubborn

Which makes Stubborn, interestingly, one of the only ones who buys into that as easily as Hero, possibly the only one (but, funnily enough, possibly not...).

On the other hand, changing up the formula drastically:

Paranoid

Paranoid doesn't even let Hero respond before responding himself, and I only showed the rest of the conversation to show that the Narrator has no chance at all to deliver his "Of course you're special. Why else would you be here?" lines -- he's put on the back foot by Paranoid's suspicions, and even when he tries to be soothing and encouraging again, Paranoid shuts that down too. If Stubborn is the most receptive, Paranoid may very well be the least.

Another major variation, which I find very interesting and can't even quite put my finger on why I find it so interesting (except that I like Cold so much):

Cold

Like Stubborn, Cold speaks up right after Hero's response before the Narrator can get into his own "Of course you're special" lines, and like Stubborn, it's in a way that seems surprisingly receptive. He actually takes the place of the Narrator responding with that, actually -- the Narrator doesn't say those lines at all, making this the only other time other than with Paranoid that he doesn't.

And the final variation...

Contrarian

There are no screencaps for this. Because interestingly, I don't think you even can get this sequence with Contrarian. Or if you can, I wasn't able to figure out how. You can't get to any of that questioning at all from what I'm able to tell.

And I think Contrarian would enjoy knowing that he's the most uniquely disruptive out of all of them.

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rockethorse · 6 months

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Calcinidae Bay Lot Tour: the Public Schools

Let's take a closer look at a few of Calcinidae Bay's community lots - its public schooling! This screenshot is actually three lots, with two lots overlapped using the Lot Adjuster. On the left is the high school, on the right is the primary school, and between them is a shared gymnasium and a semi-public oval (sports field).

More pics & CC-free decorating ideas below!

As always, these lots are based on shell challenges. The high school and primary school are actually shells that were made for me by @hugelunatic as stocking stuffers back in 2022 (I didn't forget about them!) The shell from the gym/oval lot is actually the smaller canteen building, with the gymnasium being auxiliary (because it had to be such a specific size/shape), and that shell is a 4T2 adaptation of LilSimsie's "Yeehaw" Shell Challenge that I grabbed off the gallery.

Starting with the high school:

If you peeked at the original shell, you'll see there was a two-storey 1x1 "column "room" in the middle of the lot, which made me think of a bell/clock tower and inspired me to use these shells for schools. Normally when I adapt a TS4 shell challenge to TS2 I choose the placement & orientation on the lot, but because these lots were made natively in TS2 I decided to keep the lot size & distribution as they were. This gave me a lot of additional space around the main building that was perfect for adding extra amenities like a library.

The ground floor of the high school has an administration area, lockers, mixed bathroom, sick bay, staff room, and two general-use classrooms that can each fit six students.

The teacher's lounge/staff room, and a small display/awards case. I needed something to do with that little triangular pocket, and now it's one of my favourite features. :)

Upstairs is two specialised classrooms - a moderate science lab and an arts room. I would have liked at least a home ec classroom as well, but I guess that'll be reserved for the eventual private school.

The canteen (cafeteria) is a separate demountable building with outdoor seating, some of it under a shade cloth. The library is also a separate building with a small computer bay and a group study area.

Moving on to the primary school, a much older and smaller building with some minor remodeling so the two schools look cohesive:

The inspiration for my gameplay/lots is a mish-mash of different cultural influences, but I play my schools like the standard Australian system; kids start in reception (about age 5) and attend primary school all the way through to year 6 or 7, then go to high school from year 6/7 through to year 12. Separate middle schools are much less common, and this matches with how the game itself handles kid vs. teen education.

I design my lots kind of "representationally", to get the best balance between realism and playability. While I enjoy including some details that don't provide actual gameplay, I don't want to build enormous, cumbersome lots just to achieve a 1:1 scale when my Sims will never actually need that much space. Plus, most shell challenges tend to be smaller, which I like. Hence why this school has only two classrooms, one for junior primary and a more structured classroom for upper primary.

There is a small admin area downstairs. Upstairs is the sick bay and a modest teacher's lounge/staff room.

The primary school doesn't have its own library, but it does have a small separate building that we in Australia would call OSHC - Out of School Hours Care. It's a service parents can book to drop their children off before school starts, or arrange for them to attend after school finishes until they can pick them up. They provide snacks and some edu-tainment activities. Lots of kids also attend OSHC over school holidays.

The primary school canteen/cafeteria is also a separate building. Both school canteens use the University cafeteria stove, so with the right mod students will be able to grab food there. In addition to an outdoor eating area and a small playground, there is a little produce patch between the two buildings where students are taught about horticulture.

And finally, the lot that joins the two schools, the shared gymnasium and Calcinidae Oval.

The canteen/cafeteria itself would generally not be open during school hours. Instead, the school and/or local council would operate it for profit or hire it out to a third party when the oval was being used for local sports teams and other events on weekends, holidays, and after school hours. Right now it's set up for just such a soccer match.

The inside of the "tuckshop". There is a bathroom on the bottom floor accessible from the outside of the building, while the top floor has two changing rooms for students or local teams.

The gymnasium also serves as an assembly hall for students of both schools. I think the teachers would either have a collapsible stage at the far end of the court, or just stand up in the commentator's booth to give the announcements. Underneath the commentator's booth is the equipment storage shed where many a teen couple has probably sneaked off to make out.

The back view of the tuckshop and the carpark shows how this lot overlaps with the primary school. The existing primary school is blocked from Sims walking through it by a combination of real fences and this hidden CC-free invisible fence.

And that's it for this tour! I'm pretty happy with how these lots look, how I utilised the shells, and how they all fit together in the neighbourhood. I want to have more lots overlapping and slotting together like this to give Calcinidae Bay a more seamless, open feel, like the hood really is connected.

I'll finish this post with some floorplans - if you read all this you're a champ, I hope it gave you some ideas for your own game, and I'd love to know what you think!

#the sims 2 #maxis match #sims 2 maxis match #ts2 #Calcinidae Bay #very long post under the cut lol

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front-facing-pokemon · 3 months

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#image that i had to zoom out Very far so you could see their eyes under the cut #shroodle #if you've noticed‚ i've started putting the more Snootiferous angles Above the cut now because they're always my favorites #but especially on pokémon like this where the “normal” angle shows up so small that it doesn't take up the whole width of the post #that i don't like. so yeah i'll keep that under the cut #but this thing! the prevo of a pokémon who got revealed before the game came out‚ whom honestly i thought was already a prevo #but this thing is a li'l baby guy. and i remember wanting a grafaiai so bad that i suffered through using this thing for so long #not to say i don't like this thing. but to say that it is very. weak. stats-wise #it's like trying to get a friendship eeveelution. you have to suffer through using a base eevee for uxie knows how long

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diviningrodtv · 5 months

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Oh yeah, NSH Time.

I've been holding this post back for like a week😅

I absolutely love how NSH came out and I think he's currently my favourite rain world model that I've done! (Sorry Pebbles, I'm going to upgrade you later anyway :]

I also made his scarf easily removable so you can see how the stripes aren't just on his head! The stripes and his irises also glow, but a bit brighter than the areas on Five Rotten Pebbles.

His antennae are pretty similar to how I did Sliver's, especially considering I did his first! XD They're separated from his head a bit.

Also if you've noticed in my art that his eyes are the exact same as in the model here, that's because they are! I tried finding a way to draw them how I usually might, but I just couldn't get the same vibe! So I said, "Fuck it!" and I've been drawing over his model ever since XD

NSH is also who I used to make the "umbilical arm" model! So if you saw those posts, that's why the textures are all messed up!

And here it is in all it's glory!

It's mostly made of ball joints with a flexible joint attached to the back. The last segment also twists just like your forearm bones!

Also..... lore shit below cause I have, plans™ so-

If you don't want to know why NSH is acting strange on my blog yet, read no further!

(there's also some downpour spoilers, and some other disturbing things)

*slaps top of can* This bad boy can fit so much fucking insanity in him. (cw: self-harm yeah you heard me)

If you haven't figured it out already (I did drop hints :) NSH's structure is damaged! His legs are giving out because a group of scavengers thought it would be funny to transport all of their explosives at once.

So he's in a bit of a pickle!

This is when Looks to the Moon and Five Pebbles' communication tower is repaired! During their first conversation in a very long time, NSH finds out about good ol' Hunter long legs, and is rightfully distraught! He feels like a total failure, that he wasn't experienced enough to properly create his messenger.

That's what this whole post was about!

But, experience is something that can be gained.

NSH figured if Five Pebbles was able to leave his can, then he should be able to as well, but that requires solving the three problems I mentioned in the Five Rotten Pebbles post:

The self-genome modification barrier,

A general lack of puppet central brain matter, and

No material processing within the puppet.

I'll talk about my umbilical lore for this AU here since it's relevant.

Either the "cord" or the "arm" can be disconnected, but not both. This is for ease of repair by administrators. Disconnecting them both would leave the unfortunate Iterator fully functional. Although, they would be blind in the visible spectrum (apart from overseers), unable to speak directly to someone in their chamber, and would otherwise have their workflow be severely impaired. They would effectively be trapped in their own head.

NSH realised that even if the barriers existed, they could still have the intentions, to break them. So what would happen, if he broke one? Not by writing it out of his system, Five Pebbles already proved how risky that method was, but instead by setting his actions in motion faster than any barrier could stop them? This was something to test, and wasn't that what Iterators were built to do anyway?

Umbilicals can only be disconnected by administrators, but what if he were to do it anyway? He needed to leave his can after all, it wouldn't be much of a loss if he was stuck on the floor of his chamber or floating aimlessly in zero gravity for a while.....

So what if he just ran fast enough to rip himself off?

What if he moved his arm back at the last second, could he gain enough inertia to pull it out of his back? Even if it took a few tries?

What other choices does he have? Perfect Five Pebbles' method until he collapses and continue even then? He had time, but not enough for that, and The Hunter certainly did not have any time for waiting around. NSH had to fix his mistake, he had to.

So this bastard goes and does exactly that, and short-circuits his entire system.

Not just breaking the umbilical maintenance barrier, but every other one in the process.

And it all hurts like hell.

But that's the first problem solved, and now he can help keep himself afloat longer. So that now, he can figure out how to solve the other two problems with precision.

Of course, the others won't like any of these plans, but, after what Five Pebbles did, they wouldn't dare disturb him if he stopped responding, right?

And maybe, he could even hijack their communications array, to look for help.

>:]

yeah so NSH is not sane

#No Significant Harassment #rain world #rw no significant harassment #rw nsh #low poly #3d model #blockbench #Digi's RW Design Posts #downpour spoilers #generally fucked up mentally unstable rain world nonsense under the cut. It's marked at the top when you click read more #long post #very long post

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celestialrealms · 11 months

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Something so soft about Barbatos drying MC's hair for them 🥺

Bonus: You VS. the guy he tells you not to worry about (or, why I don't mind this card was in the guest room of the castle instead of MC's room at Cocytus Hall like on the deflower)

VS.

#Spoilers for the end of OG season 4 under the cut? I feel like we all know about it and it's a meme by now though #if only they'd actually give barbatos romantic content in the main story <3 too bad that'll never happen #anyway I did really like this card + the wanderer's whereabouts scenario was very cute #obey me barbatos #barbatos obey me #obey me #barbatos x mc #obey me shall we date #barbatos #idk if anyone's noticed but lately i've been trying to post screenshots of every barbatos crumb we get since it isn't a lot.#i just need to feel alive!!!#long post /

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bionicle-ramblings · 2 months

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I have a feeling that the SCP AU is leading to the Metru trying to escape the facility, because both how they are treated and that the bosses are Roodaka and Sidorak is just. Terrible.

The questions are: What is the boiling point that even Whenua says "enough of this shit". And how could they get out?

It does! And you're actually pretty close with Sidorak being in a really high position in the facility. Roodaka's actually another SCP😉

As for that boiling point, Weeeeeeeeeell.... 👇

Credit where credit's due, @chancetimespace thank you for listening to all my brainstorming, and even the angst scenes, especially this one

So it all started when Lhikan was wrapping up a session with Whenua and asked if he wanted to make any requests. Whenua was silent, but ultimately caved:

He wanted to go to the beach, and he wanted the other Metru to come with him. An all or nothing deal too; they all had to unanimously agree to go to the beach together. Even only one disagreed, then they wouldn't go

Lhikan DID point out that such a request can be seen as a potential breach and also cruel, based on the "all or nothing unanimous agreement thing," but Whenua was adamant. He didn't want to force anyone, and he wanted the other Metru to get out and get fresh air because Onewa felt like a caged animal, Matau was treated like one by staff sometimes, Nuju and Nokama were restless, Whenua wanted to feel the sand between his toes, and, if he had to be honest, he had no idea how long Vakama had been in the facility for and thought the kid could use some fresh air and Vitamin D

And so Lhikan took it to the Director and, upon hearing the stipulations, agreed: If Lhikan got the Metru to UNANIMOUSLY agree to it, they would be allowed their beach day. He even had a slight start with Whenua; people don't make requests like that unless they REALLY want it

He moved pretty quickly, talking to each Metru himself and getting their individual answers, making sure he'd get unbiased answers because THEY had to agree themselves, not because, "Everyone else is going and I don't want to let them down"

He already had his 'yes' from Whenua, so he moved to the others next

Nuju agreed almost instantly, glad to be outside and out of the facility even if it was only for a day

Nokama also agreed; she missed natural water and wanted to stretch her legs again

Matau was VERY enthusiastic in his agreement, eager to see people and essentially play 'dress up' again. He did ask which beach they'd be going to, and Lhikan promised it'd be one he'd liked

Onewa was where he ran into a hiccup, because Onewa didn't believe him, as some personnel thought it would be funny to prolong granting his requests or even not grant them entirely. Lhikan had to grant a request(giving Onewa a 2×2×2 block of rainbow tiger's eye/tiger iron) in order to get Onewa to agree, which he ultimately did(on the basis that he would beat the hell out of Lhikan if this was another sick joke)

Vakama was another hiccup, thanks to Roodaka because she'd been talking to him more and getting into his head about being with the Metru. This did not come up when Lhikan asked him about a beach day. Vakama was iffy still because of the fact he'd be outside and, if he was being honest, he thought he'd be a danger to everyone around him. Lhikan assured him he would be and swore nothing would happen. Vakama asked if he could sleep on it to provide his answer. Roodaka also paid a visit and got him to tell her about the beach question Lhikan gave. She warned him it would end badly, that the foundation wouldn't stand for it, knowing who was getting out and what they could do

By the morning, after a couple days, the Metru were brought together, given some ordinary clothes and brought to a shuttle van with tinted windows. Long story short, the agreement was unanimous

Lhikan brought them to an ice cream parlor(the Metru had breakfast before they left) before they got to the beach, because "You can't have a beach day without ice cream," and wind up taking to an out of work friend for a WHILE

The Metru all watched, even when they finished eating, and were simply admiring how two people could talk for so long

Then Vakama, as he was messing with a peppermint wrapper, said, "We could probably leave and he wouldn't even notice."

And, after a moment of everyone staying at each other, they did

They all had their teachers in their arms, but they were out of Lhikan's sight and on their own

And they had a VERY good day

Turns out Whenua tended to leave stashes of cash around in places only he knew were there; "this used to be a speakeasy during the Prohibition. Once the ban was lifted it became an extra room and then one people just didn't care to look for when the fun stuff was right in front of them." They did have to remind Matau to keep to one face, so the police wouldn't be informed and they had to get sunglasses for Onewa and cover for him; "He lost a bet and now he needs to wear that face makeup all day. Looks pretty badass, though, huh?" / "Correction: I *won* that bet."

A major highlight was going to a carnival and just having a good time and goofing around, more so when they finally made their way to the beach and just had fun. Swimming, playing in the sand, taking in the sun, even having a campfire and watching the sunset and later stars

Here was where they really got talking, about their lives before the facility, about how long they'd been in, making light of their time being in captivity, as it were

Nuju and Nokama were in for the least amount of time(9 months)

Matau had been in for three years

Whenua had been in for five years, three months and 4 weeks(yes, he kept count)

Onewa had only been in for a year, maybe a year and a half

Vakama revealed he's been in the facility for eight years now, counting today

It silenced everyone for a moment, especially as they realized that so much time had caused a lot of damage, and not just physical. Vakama is VERY socially inept, to the point he just froze up when a girl told him her friend thought he was cute, he is pale like a ghost, he looks like he hasn't been sleeping, and, as he revealed to them, being seen as a monster and a secret to be kept under wraps wins up making you believe it yourself, that that's all you are and every will be

After a moment, the question was proposed:

"What if we ran away?"

It caught everyone's attention, mainly because they realized THEY WERE OUTSIDE and they did get away from Lhikan and could run. Nuju pointed out they still had their trackers in, though they could be removed hopefully before the foundation found them all

The discussion was long and there was a lot of "and then what?" But ultimately, everyone just lay on the beach and wind up falling asleep

You may think Lhikan left, but no. He was keeping an an on the Metru and needed to report back to the foundation that he had the Metru in sight and they were safe. He had everything under control

He missed when a group of SCP bands drove in from the back roads and SCP personnel essentially swarmed the beach

To call what happened brutality would be an understatement. Personnel were armed with guns, both with live ammo and tranquilizers, tazer/stun guns, batons, pepper spray, anything to apprehend the Metru, and all are used in some capacity, even when they surrendered

Vakama in particular did immediately surrender, even with a gun aimed at his head, but could only watch as he saw the others be beaten, pepper sprayed, shot with tranquilizers, and even electrocuted in water as Nokama had tried swimming to get away out of sheer instinct

The recapturing left them in horrible states. Matau had been tranq-ed and knocked unconscious, Nuju wound up getting shot in the leg, Whenua and Onewa were beaten until they were unconscious, and Nokama was trembling controlably thanks to both what happened and being shocked IN WATER

Each were put in separate bands and taken back to the facility, though Vakama had to be knocked out with sleeping gas because he WENT OFF on the personnel and how they were using their numbers to talk about them rather than their names. Upon re-entering the facility, the Metru were kept apart, not allowed to see each other. Lhikan wasn't allowed to visit them either

To say the Metru were all affected is an understatement

Whenua made and his weapons in his bed and his room

Nuju practiced his telekinesis tenfold

Matau refused to leave the enclosure in his area

Nokama has trouble being in water again, or would stay at the broke so no one could grab her

Onewa was even more hostile than he ever had been

Vakama often fluctuated between laying in bed all day to sometimes destroying his room and purposely seeing things on fire

It got worse when Roodaka glued herself to him and would often stay in his room with him. Nothing creepy happened, she just played at being his ally

That changed when Vakama was checked on me by Sidorak, started requesting to not see Roodaka anymore, and when Roodaka attacked him and the two had a VERY intense fight that personnel had to break up

While the other Metru earned their way back to seeing each other, the most they saw or heard of Vakama was he was first already seeing Roodaka, and then that he was in solitary containment/confinement because he proved to be too dangerous to be kept around others for a while

In solitary, Vakama met Norik, who talked to him through a vent and the two got talking: Norik and his friends tried to escape, but were unsuccessful. Norik doesn't mind solitary, but he'd heard of Vakama and his friends, as they were the talk of many staff members. He only hoped Vakama knew his friends worried about him because they do; he means more to them than he thinks, and he cares about them more than he realizes

After a VERY emotional reunion, and a shave and a haircut, two bits, the Metru were back to hanging out and seeing each other again, butnwith heavier supervision

That did not stop Vakama from slipping a note to all of the other Metru when they returned to their holding areas:

"We're getting out of here"

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essektheylyss · 2 years

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I know you said you need to stop screaming first but I am EAGERLY awaiting your thoughts on Essek in the teaser

OKAY OKAY HERE GOES.

The thing is, there's no real reason to include him.

Yes, he's very popular, but he has never historically been included as a default, validly! He occupies a very interesting space mechanically and narratively, but he is still not a PC. Yes, he's part of the Mighty Nein as a group, per canon, but not until the end, which in theory would be well beyond the first season, and so is Cad, who is not present in this teaser—presumably to preserve the mystery around [INSERT MAJOR SPOILER WARNING HERE].

I would imagine that Cad is not present because having Taliesin's voice twice is too much of a tipoff for anyone watching LoVM but not the campaigns, whereas simply having Matt voice someone is not.

HOWEVER.

There are a decent number of lines that you could choose for Essek that are about the Nein—personally, my favorite, that I've thought previously would make a really stellar trailer line, is from 124: "You certainly carve a unique destiny, don't you?" Everything down to the way Matt delivers it (which you can see here) would make it a really viable option.

But the line they went with isn't about the Nein—it's very much a line about Essek himself. "I want to unlock these mysteries. I want to dive as deep as I can into that ocean of the unknown and see what is possible." It's a line that is very specific to Essek and his actions and goals, even beyond his involvement with the Nein.

And it's placed in the middle of the pack, which frames him on the same level as the rest of the Nein! Someone who is not familiar with the campaign would hear that as simply another protagonist. But of course, he's not—unless there is some serious restructuring (more even than the restructuring present in LoVM, which, aside from introducing a few of the initial less plot-bearing aspects later, like the Slayer's Take, it's thus far structured in order), he won't come into the show for quite some time, and almost certainly not in the first season.

But we don't really have any idea how this show will be structured. There are different comments on the beginning from different sources; notably, Gizmodo mentions Calianna being present in some way initially, while no one else does. The logline most outlets are reporting revolves the Nein "prevent[ing] the kingdom from plunging into chaos when an arcane artifact capable of reshaping reality falls into the wrong hands," presumably the beacon (my beloved).

So it makes sense to mention Essek, for, you know, the obvious reasons, as comment on the beacon itself. (I'm going to guess they're simplifying it to one beacon, per the press release, for ease lol.) But this line, while about dunamancy as a whole and the powers of the beacon, is not about it directly. It's still about Essek's interest in it. It is an excellent line, and on its face, it has nothing to do with the Nein or the plot of the first fifty episodes of the campaign.

There's plenty of speculation to be done about how this might be structured, and I'm sure I'll do plenty of it because, let's be honest, I do not shut up about adaptation and translating stories between formats, it is one of my absolute favorite subjects, and this is the Nein, babey!!!

So my point here being: I think there is a lot of room with the nature of Wildemount politics to get a little wild with structure in the translation from D&D game to TV show that, while not impossible in LoVM, wouldn't really have added anything to the story, and honestly, might've taken away from it. Because the point is to watch Vox Machina become the big damn heroes! We do see tidbits of Brimscythe and the Briarwoods beyond the purview of the heroes, but mostly in ways that feel very '80s cartoon villain cameo' which fits the feel of the show perfectly.

But there are a lot of political players and forces in Wildemount that the Nein navigate whether they're aware of them or not, one of whom of course becomes a member of their party, and that's part of what makes their story so interesting. The Nein are the heroes that no one knows, who are always playing within and against the system and are hyper aware of that, and I think expanding how much of that we get to see now that the format allows for it (not necessarily a lot, not to the point of adding whole plotlines, but at least some of it) would only add to the tension and stakes, and Essek's presence in the trailer makes me wonder if they will.

#not pictured: me sitting at my computer hollering while I power through writing both this and my fucking work emails #the work emails are uhhhh going fine. I'm being so productive. don't even worry about it.#(I am actually staying on top of things to be clear lmfao I also write very quickly)#critical role #mighty nein animated #cr spoilers #I gUESS???#cr meta #long post #anyway now someone ask me about how much I am chinhands kicking my heels thinking about the TONE of this show and lovm #I mean do not get me started. nope don't have time for it. BUT I'M FASCINATED ALREADY #sorry I didn't put it under a cut #I forgot I mentioned I was gonna while tagging

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the-converse-high-top · 6 months

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this is going to sound really fucked up but i just need to say it i think.

I never realized that people could actually care. I always thought that the depictions of friendship in movies and TV shows were over-the-top portrayals, and weren't things that actually happened. This was then exacerbated by the fact that my entire life I always wanted people to just Know How I Was Feeling like they do on TV and I found out that that's Not How It Works. I always thought I was naive for caring so much about my friends and for doing nice things for them out of the blue, and I always resented myself for resenting my parents for not doing more for me as a child.

So when I got to uni, and my friends started caring about me and asking if I was ok when I looked sad and doing nice things for me, I didn't know what to do with myself. It was the nicest thing anyone had ever done for me in a long time. When I was staying with a friend, and she said that she left the window open in the room I was going to be staying in because I liked it to be cold when i sleep, I bluescreened. I didn't know how to respond. It is quite literally one of the nicest things anyone had ever done for me. No one had ever paid that much attention to the things I liked. Every year on my birthday it was either a gamble if I would get something I actually wanted from my parents (spoiler alert: I was often disappointed) or I would just have to straight up tell them what I wanted. I got accustomed to the latter, and now I don't mind, but receiving two gifts from friends about languages this year made me realize that I could have it so much better.

And don't even get me started on online friends. I sort of thought that everyone was lying about them? Or that it was something unattainable, and reserved only for God's Chosen Favorites or something. But no, there are little people in my phone who care about me. They legitimately care about me as much as I care about them. I've been nervous to ask them about their well-being because I'm still nervous about being naive and getting a wake-up call that no one cares again, but after being told that they were worried about me when I overslept, I think i should know that I'm in the clear. And that's not even including all the times they tell me to go to bed when it's late, and when they ping me about things I may enjoy or things I was involved in.

All this is to say I guess that I'm touched that people remember my existence. It makes me feel good to be wanted. I will be eternally grateful to both my irl and online friends who made me realize that just because my parents or my friends from home didn't care enough to remember what I like or to go out of their way to do nice things for me, it doesn't mean that no one will. I need to step up and do more for you guys. I trained myself to push down my desire to help and check in with people because I thought I was betting on something that I'd never get in return, but now I know I can.

Thank you all, and I love you 💚

#uf this is a long one sorry 😅#i put it under a cut so it wont clog up your dash #btw if you are an online friend and you do something nice for me #what you arent seeing is me squealing and crying and bluescreening before giving your message a heart emoji and possibly the 🥹 emoji #the 🥹 emoji to me is a dear friend #🥹 to me in the context of accepting nice things means that im basically already crying #i am so incredibly appreciative of you all #i will not stop saying it #and i need to say it more to my irls faces #if you know me irl and you see this expect me to tell you very soon that i fucking love you #and if youre an online friend and you have vagueposted about something happening to you since ive met you #you may or may not get a message about it (depending on how chicken i am) because i fucking care about your well-being goddamnit #idk idk idk i just #it still amazes me that this isnt fake #that you actually care #i keep thinking that ill say something wrong or whatever and ill lose it all #but in the back of my mind i know that isnt true #i should probably be telling all this to a therapist but therapy is expensive and posting online is free #there was something else i wanted to say but i forgor so ill edit and add it when i rember #ok to rb #long post #personal

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bacchuschucklefuck · 4 months

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Do you write fh (jy) fan fiction? If so is there a way I can read it? Thanks :>

I'll say I am writing fh fanfics! but its currently in my computer and nowhere else. maybe one day I'll get what I'm writing done and somewhere not my computer and I'll let folks know!

#not art #thats what the riz sheet I posted the other day was for lol. and there is a screencap of a bit of what I wrote under the cut there #thats the fic I wanna finish. but also its playing second fiddle to the comic rn. bc I Really wanna finish the comic #and honestly thats just how I work in general lol. I am a cartoonist first a human second and a prose writer mayybe third #I do write fics! but I do it in a very petulant way lol. I always say I wield this medium like a bat #a very selfish writer I am. well that somewhat extends to comics too but funnily enough theres kind of a limit on how selfish u can be #in a comic setting. bc u have to draw All That #it makes for a good filter for what ideas u Really think deserve to see the light of day tho. case in point the comic Im trying to #fuckign finish is thirty squares/panels things long. and Im Doing It. bc I love being right and I Really wanna do it #I guess inversely I do write fics in a very... filterless way lmao. I just type shit and its fun for me #honestly if I finish this fic I'd probs put it on tumblr first and then figuring out ao3 posting later #so straight up u guys might get first dib there. but well! comic first always. halfway thru! soon itll be done

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gibbearish · 11 months

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it is with a heavy heart that i must announce. the five nights at freddy's movie was really good

sorry for how much of a behemoth this post is im fnaf autism just bear with me also i can't keep my thoughts straight for the life of me so this will be a bumpy ride. as an additional note i got very lucky and had literally 0 spoilers whatsoever for this movie, i haven't even seen the trailer

so first of all: i thought all the changes they made to the plot to make it work for a movie were good decisions, altho some of them did take a minute to actually feel like good changes lmao. once i thought about em a bit more though they made sense.

one of the things i really liked was that they also did include a lot of the things i wanted them to, or more specifically things that you're like "you literally can't have a fnaf movie without these, it just wouldn't be right", like we got mike schmidt, we got fucking VANESSA??? altho she might be in the trailer so that might not be the same reveal for yall as it was for me but still. they heavily alluded to vanny? (altho that's a part i'm kinda sad abt is they didn't /actually/ include vanny, vanessa just makes an offhand comment about how she "wouldn't be much help" if she was around afton and then. comes to help anyways and doesnt have any issues? lame they shouldve had him hypnotise her and then she fought her way out to help mike and abby. or alternatively they couldve used the family restructuring to make vanny be a result of afton giving vanessa osdd-2, like thats kinda functionally what he does with the mask anyways but this would make it more obvious).

also swinging back to changes they made that i liked!! VANESSA AFTON?? like this is the one that took me a while to get used to bc it feels like such a cliche from an outside perspective but it also kind of Super Isn't considering what the original plot is? like all the family restructuring they did makes pretty good sense to me, i do think it loses a bit of the weight having michael be Just Some Guy Whose Brother Happened To Be Kidnapped By Afton Forever Ago and now coincidentally has this weird guy offering him a job as a night guard, but also the og lore. absolutely would not fit into a movie lmao. so i like that they kept the characters everyone wanted around while also rearranging it to keep the spirit of "learning about all of this for the first time through the eyes of a security guard" you get from playing the games. it's fun for people who don't know the lore because it's easy to follow and it's fun for people who /do/ know the lore because they can pull apart all the differences.

oh right back to things they included that i wanted them to. we gotttt chica's cupcake murdering people, we got FUCKING MATPAT? SAYING THE ITS JUST A THEORY LINE? SOUNDING THRILLED OFF HIS ASS TO BE THERE??? i dont like the man and his opinions vis a vis addressing nonbinary characters but. goddamn was that a funny cameo. why couldnt you include markiplier too you fucking cowards. who said that. anyways. oh we kind of tangentially have a canon name for crying child? aka garrett? like idk this one could go either way because like. yeah he's mike's younger brother that died tragically and scarred him for life, makes sense that theyd be the same character in function but also it is technically a different family so who knows.

umm what else. oh this doesnt rlly fall into either category i just really liked it, the intro sequence for all the animatronics? showing what they can /really/ do with the breaking and entering dudes?? that was such a cool sequence i really liked the whole thing honestly. chica being introduced in the kitchen and the dude finding the cupcake then looking back and it's gone? bonnie in the supply closet? foxysprint??? AND FREDDY!! THE BITE!!! in case anyones reading this before watching the movie so they know what to expect: youll know when this moment is coming and if youre watching it at home with friends i HIGHLY recommend having the "was that the bite of 87" clip ready to play right after, they WILL lose their shit. i had it queued up from the very beginning of the movie cause i was like. they can't not include it /somehow/, it's the fnaf movie there has to be A Bite. and sure enough. oh also it's not at the same time but the golden freddy reveal is really good too, they did a good job of setting it up so even if youre already aware of golden freddy conceptually you still go "oh freddy's here? i mean i guess that makes sense he's the leader and all. or wait what happened to his eye why's he only got one? oh. oh i see. ohohohohohohohoho" 100/10. also very funny that they just straight up. MURDER THE AUNT? AND SHE NEVER GETS MENTIONED AGAIN SHE JUST IS DEAD??? the kid isnt like. hey what happened to aunt jane?? i get none of them liked her and with good reason but youd think at least one of em would be like "damn she sucked but she didnt deserve that, rip jane"

oh and the springlocks of course the springlocks. like as soon as we saw aftons name in the cast list we all knew he was gonna get springlocked, it's such a cherished memory for so many of us and there's no way in hell The Fnaf Movie™ wouldnt include afton getting springlocked, they just legally can't leave that out. and they do it pretty well too like yeah if you know what's gonna happen you can see it coming way ahead of time and it's kind of a slow crawl to get there but like. idk i think it still works pretty well. i don't personally like how long the actual springlocking itself took, i think they couldve milked that a little bit less cause i was under the impression that if one springlock failed they All Would Instantaneously And Your Flesh Body Will Become Occupied By A Full Endoskeleton. but no we just get very slow rib beartrap. w/e though still cool and again the leadup to it was really good even knowing exactly how it would end, like just the really slow shuffling of the animatronics towards him? like yeah it's slow and kinda tedious but its also like. theres literally nothing you can do, youre surrounded and defenseless and theyre infinitely faster and stronger than you and now they remember that you killed them. and you just have to sit there and watch them slowly slowly get closer all while trying to talk your way out of it knowing youre fucked. 10/10 they did that part well

oh and that also falls under changes i liked, i liked that instead of "afton tries to escape intangible ghosts by getting into old decrepit suit which then fails and kills him" it was "afton was already in the suit to do murders in and has brainwashed the bots to follow him" wait omg point postponed i just realized that part is from security breach. i thought vanessa was the only thing they brought over from that i didnt even notice that they werent doing the theyre-attacking-all-adults-indiscriminately thing goddamn. omg wait and the fact that the restaurants already closed in this one, it really is just a blend of all the games huh. scott do you see how much more coherent your plot couldve been if there wasnt So much going on. anyways. back to what i was saying. instead of "afton tries to escape intangible ghosts by getting into old decrepit suit which then fails and kills him" it was "afton was already in the suit to do murders in and brainwashed the ghosts into thinking he was their friend so they would help him do murders while possessing the robots. then they get their memories back and the robots turn on him and.. i think deliberately? set off the springlocks, or were just aiming to regular kill him and the springlocks failing was a happy accident? then the robots drag him away as they keep slowly one by one collapsing into him", like the first one made a lot of sense for the game and the timeline and the second one just feels right for this too. it's still his hubris that kills him, still his springlocks, it's just in one version the hubris is "trusting his springlock design to still work after however many years" and in the other its "thinking he has conplete control over the ghosts he killed", plus the ghosts finally get a bit more direct participation in his death than in the other version lol.

one change i did not like. forced het romance. like i dunno i guess im happy for them, both of those characters have certainly earned happy endings by this point so its nice they can get something cutesy. but also. like cmon man it's vanessa and mike do we have to do this she just got stabbed stop holding her hand

oh also this change wasnt really good or bad i just thought it was funny, vanessas a full on cop now? like i get they prolly just dont wanna have two security guards or something but i mean. it wouldve been really easy to just say she was the day shift guard? thatd explain why she had more information on the bots and the place's history than him, why she's always Around, it wouldve even flowed into the vanessa afton reveal pretty well too because like. yeah obviously a guy doing murders would want his main security guard to be someone he trusts and who better than his theoretically brainwashed daughter yknow? as it was she just kinda Showed Up Knowing Stuff And Ignoring Questions and later afton's like "you were supposed to be keeping an eye on him" but like of course Mike was getting dodgy about the weirdo cop loitering nearby for no reason, thats sus as hell lmao. vs "experienced security guard here to show you the ropes" he would have a much easier time trusting that she actually did have his best interests at heart. idk it just seemed like a weird change to me lmao

ummm oh my roommate pointed out the fact that when they tried to springlock abby the suit they were aiming for looked suspiciously like circus baby and abby and baby are anagrams so thats fun. it's hard to tell though if shes intended to be a rework of elizabeth or if vanessa's filling that role now. cause like on the one hand, michael's younger sister whose name is v close to baby, on the other hand, vanessa is afton's daughter. so idk i feel like it could go either way. if abby's elizabeth i guess that negates the thing about garret maybe being crying child's name bc then theyd prolly just be keeping mike's name the same. w/e

oh my god i completely forgot when i was talking about changes to the afton springlock thing, they had him deliberately put his mask on after the other springlocks started releasing and say the "i always come back" line, i thought that was an excellent touch. like he's actively dying a horrific death and is like. no no. im not leaving this bot. this shit is going to suck ass no matter what so i might as well do all i can to ENSURE my soul gets locked in this fuckin thing, go on stab me in the brain lets do this. i will however also say that having him say "i always come back"... before he's even come back the first time? is a little bit weird, i know thats another one of the "we have to include this in the fnaf movie" things so im not mad but just in the moment it def flows a bit weird. like mf you don't even have one example of that yet much less several to be saying "always" about

OH AND THE BIGGEST ONE. THE ANIMATRONICS. theyre so good. like im so glad they went all in on that, i think they probably knew that if there was one single thing they had to get absolutely 100% right to avoid a fan uprising it was those and by god did they deliver, theyre so big and so unsettling and so fun. chica's wink at abby was the best part of the movie no questions asked. or alternatively bonnie falling over after they built the fort. like theyre all just so good. OH MY GOD OR IN CHICA'S INTRODUCTION SEQUENCE WHERE YOU CAN SEE HER JUST. SCOOTING BY THROUGH THE VENT?? THAT WAS THE FUNNIEST THING OF ALL TIME HELLO???

god. but yeah i was honestly expecting it to be a lot worse than it was. also this mike is a bad brother/dad figure. but i guess in the games he also kind of is the pinnacle of bad brother so i mean it couldve been a lot worse. theres definitely some rough parts, i mightve mentioned this already but i felt like a few of the dramatic pause things were a bit too drawn out, like i said the springlocks locking is one good example of that but another that i REALLY found slow was like. in the opening we watch a guy get turbomurdered by the swirly blade mask and it takes. way longer than i feel like was necessary. also unnecessary: a jumpcut a second from scared eyes to swirly blades to hands fumbling and repeating during that. oh another thing that was weird to me, why was mike so insistent on sleeping specifically at night? to the point of deliberately sleeping on the job? like i get he wanted to revisit the kidnapping dream but like. presumably he could dream just as well during the day, no? done his night shift then once it was up rolled out a sleeping bag for a quick powernap before heading home? idk that just felt. forced to me

more random things, i am sad we didnt get a whiff of henry emily (my fringe theory was that their twist to change it from the games was they were gonna make henry be evil, rip to that idea) or the puppet/charlie, and kinda sad they changed the kid possessing golden freddy to be a boy like. we love cassidy and her Undying Rage Towards Afton's Soul smh why would you get rid of her. also loved balloon boy, kinda wish mangle had gotten like a similar level appearance but thats w/e. oh also while i did appreciate the low gore level there were also a few times where it was a bit weird how minor the injuries the dead people had were. like this man just had his face put in a blender mask and he just has like. some forehead gashes or whatever? he should look like someone stirred up jello

anyways with that gross thought i think i am out of things to say about the movie for now. if anyone else watched it already and somehow read all of this blease tell me your thoughts

#the stuff under the cut contains major spoilers so reader beweader #this post is also gonna be rambley as hell so like. strap in #update after finishing it: it is indeed very rambley and also long as hell so see again: reader beweader #fnaf movie spoilers #five nights at freddy's movie spoilers #fnaf spoilers #five nights at freddy's spoilers #fnaf #fnaf movie #my roommate said they heard they were aiming to make 3 moves total and if i had to guess #i would say the other movies will probably hit fnaf 3 and then pizzaria simulator #obviously with some massive changes to the plot regarding timelines and just resolving general world changes #but i do feel like those encapsulate the main big points of afton's arc #aka 1) getting springlocked‚ 2) being springtrap (potentially in fazbear frights and i think that would be a really cool movie #but really the location doesnt really matter so much as the He's Been Woken Up And Is Hunting Someone #and then 3) getting his ass sent to ghost hell by henry. frankly i would be happy if they just ripped his final monologue #straight from the game and didnt even rerecord it it's just so iconic #like id want them to include security breach too somehow but. the timelines gonna get real condensed real fast then #it already would be if they include 3 isnt there like 30 years between aftons death and that one? so the part thats #originally set in 2050????? yeah thatd take some serious rearranging #hmm although i am now in my head thinking of something. abt the location not mattering as long as #springtrap wakes up and hunts someone. what if they did that /in the pizzaplex/ instead of in a horror attraction #or maybe for a horror installation there #idk im just rambling more now but i think thatd be a cool way to combine those parts #oh sorry technically that thing abt afton getting springlocked is technically a spoiler #but i mean come on we all knew that was gonna happen

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cookinguptales · 1 year

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travel rambling!! under the cut!! because I do intend to ramble!! a lot!!

like if you thought that wwdits was a hyperfixation of mine, you've never heard me talk about some of the religious traditions I've studied. lmao

SO first of all, religious syncretism is when elements of two or more religions/traditions are incorporated into religious practice. A crossover episode, if you will, and I am obsessed with it. When I was in college studying religions and folklore, it quickly became a driving force in my intellectual curiosity.

I've always been really interested in how people pick and choose from different traditions to create their own personal belief systems, and syncretic religions can be this on a micro or macro level. We could be talking about something as individualized as a self-identified pagan assembling a collection of beliefs and rituals from various world mythologies and written/online sources, or we could be talking about something as established as Louisiana Voodoo, which is a syncretic religion with strong influences from Roman Catholicism, various West African religions, and Haitian Vodou.

Syncretic religions form in a lot of ways... immigration, colonialism, natural spread of tradition, purposeful assemblage of disparate ideas, etc. Sometimes there's a history of blood, sometimes a history of love, sometimes a little bit of both. And man, I feel like there's just something so human about it.

The thing I love best about stories is the way they grow and change within us. When you hear a story, you resonate with certain parts of it. You remember some parts best. And when you retell that story, you can't help but imbue it with a little bit of your own self. The parts you loved and the parts you hated and the parts you want to emphasize or deemphasize or embellish. You can't hear a story without taking it into yourself, and you can't tell one without making it your own -- even if you retell it word for word.

And I guess religious syncretism is the final form of that, a little bit? Taking ingredients from every part of your life, real and imagined and studied and genetic, and mixing them together into the precise stew that nourishes you best, either on an individualized or communal level.

I digress.

I started out with Egyptology in school, abandoned that for several reasons, and realized what I really loved learning about was religion, especially on a practical and/or vernacular level. (i.e. what people actually do rather than the ur version of whatever philosophy we're talking about.) Then Some Stuff Happened and I added on East Asian Languages and Civilizations and really started leaning into learning about Japanese folklore and religions, especially once I started studying in Kyoto.

When I was studying in Japan, I really wanted to learn a lot about Shinto. The concepts behind it had been kind of ill-defined for me, and I wanted to really nail down what people were even talking about when they talked about Shinto. But... to my surprise, even the Japanese people I talked to were really vague on the subject. Which made sense, I guess, as I learned more about it.

I was really, really lucky, actually, because a professor who knew quite a lot about Shinto came to teach at my (American) school shortly before I graduated. It's not easy to find good classes on that subject in the US, especially outside of the west coast and Hawaii. But we had a whole symposium where experts from all over the world came and discussed various research projects on the subject and I was So Happy. lmao

I'm not... gonna get too into Shinto right now. My final assignment for that class, IIRC, was to write a 15 (20?) page paper on the topic "what is Shinto?" so that... might give you an idea of how complicated the question is. lmao.

Suffice it to say, for now, that Shinto is a name that we've retroactively applied to a series of disparate practices and belief systems in what would eventually become Japan. So... in that respect, it's an indigenous religion of Japan, or at least a modern understanding of many of them.

(People think of Japan as one cohesive country because it is now, but maybe think of that period as being more like Ancient Greece? Lots of small little villages and towns (think city-states) that were separated by topographical features and therefore had their own cultures before they were unified into the country we know of as Japan much later.)

Shinto, as a modern concept... ugh, it's still super complicated. There are deities or spirits called kami, and there are several big, important ones like Amaterasu and Susanoo, but also there's just this thought that almost everything can contain a kami because everything has a spirit. (It's animism, baby.) So there is a spirit of that big boulder, a spirit of that mountain, a spirit of that tree, and they're all kami. There are literally thousands of kinds of kami, and they're everywhere at all times. People can become kami after they die, man-made objects can become kami. (Sort of Velveteen Rabbit style.) And in Shinto shrines, these kami are enshrined and venerated and kept happy. Like any deity, they can help or they can hurt, y'know?

There's... a lot more to it than that, some of it extremely political, but that's the essence of it, I think. Kami veneration. (What that entails is... debatable, too! haha)

God, and that was my short version. That's not even what I wanted to talk about.

All that is to say that that's what I was trying to study my first time in Japan. The second time I was in Japan (a few years ago) I heard about Shugendo, which is a highly syncretic mountain-based religion in Japan that has dwindled quite a bit over the years, but not entirely.

Shugendo, to my understanding, is a syncretic religious tradition comprised of elements from Shinto, Buddhism (especially Esoteric Buddhism), and local traditions about local deities. It's extremely mountain-centric, and most important places in Shugendo are on top of mountains. (Which... make them very difficult for my disabled ass to get to.)

The point, though, is the climb. It's a highly ascetic tradition, so practitioners, or yamabushi, would often push themselves to their physical and mental limits. They'd live out in the wilderness, often alone for long periods of time, and make do with what they found out there. One of the places we're going has a very distinct food tradition just because it's largely born out of the increasingly creative scavenging yamabushi would do while out on the mountain. They figured out how to eat a lot of things that most people would not eat. lmao

The important part here, though, is near-constant meditation and going to a sacred place (the mountain) and becoming one with that sacrality. It's trying to find enlightenment through nature and the divine. It feels similar to the Romantic concept of the sublime to me, y'know? And there's stuff about gaining superhuman spiritual powers through all this, too, though I don't know as much about that. (YET.)

One of the reasons why it's kind of hard to learn about is that there are very few practitioners these days. This is partially due to a generally dwindling number of people who identify as religious in Japan, partially because there were never that many practitioners to start with, and partially because... it was illegal for a while! (More on that later.)

Man, though, I wanna learn about it.

Shugendo has kind of become my white whale over the last few years, and there's a lot more information now on the internet than there was when I first started learning about it, but it's still often frustratingly vague!

This time, though, my dad was like "well, we're going to be there for quite a while and you already showed me most of the important tourist spots last time, so is there anywhere off the beaten path you really want to go?"

Now. This was a very brave thing to say to me, considering some of the weird-ass places I dragged him to last time. This man turned and looked me in the eye, the same woman who made him go to the moss temple and the cricket temple in the same goddamn day that we wandered through the bamboo forest in Arashiyama at night after I cheerfully told him that the shrine there was most famous for a ghost story. He said it was one of the creepiest experiences of his life!

haha. memories.

anyway. He looked me in the eye and asked me if there was anywhere unusual I wanted to go. And I slapped open a map of Wakayama and was like I WANNA DO THE KUMANO KODO.

Now... I was not going to hike the entirety of an ancient pilgrimage route. Like I said before, my dumb (but highly excitable) ass is disabled. I cannot physically do that. But I wanted to see the main shrines and temples on the route (shrines=Shinto, temples=Buddhist!) and hike a very small portion of the 1000-year-old route, some of which STILL EXISTS AS A ROAD. *_*

And I wanted to go because... Shugendo!!!! The Kumano Kodo is a popular pilgrimage route for yamabushi!!! That whole Kumano region is sacred for practitioners of Shugendo, and I was like! Heck yeah! I can learn a thing!

But... Dad got injured. ;; And I'm used to pain, but he is not. So I'm not going to make the poor man hike. I want him to heal and get better and not strain his torn abdomen too much.

So I kind of abandoned that idea.

(Side note: I was asking Dad what he thought his physical limits were going to be so I didn't overplan and he was like "well, you can't do that much either, so I don't think we'll do too much" and I was like "what do you mean?" And he said "well, there's nothing that'll hurt me that won't hurt you, too, and you're not going to want to hurt yourself to see things." and I was like "hmm" and I realized that my father does not really understand my existence at all. lmao)

Then I was thinking, though, and I remembered reading about sokushinbutsu awhile ago. I wasn't actually thinking about going to see them initially; Dad and I were just driving up the coast and it's a long drive so I was cheerfully rambling. So I was explaining the basic concept to him and I was like "yes, and I heard that one of the temples is so sacred that you have to go barefoot throughout the grounds, even in winter" and I googled where it was, exactly, because I couldn't remember and

YAMAGATA.

I looked at it and I thought about the Dewa Sanzan and I googled how much climbing those mountains actually require and then I was like

hey dad wanna go to some extremely sacred mountains in northern Japan? they let you drive to the shrines.

And he was like "...why those mountains specifically?"

And then I had to tell him about Shugendo, because yessss that's another very important place for it. I'd always sort of associated the idea of sokushinbutsu with Shingon (esoteric) Buddhism and Kukai, the founder of which, because I knew that it was said that he still rests at Koyasan in eternal meditation.

(YEAH, WE'RE GOING TO KOYASAN TOO! *HIGH KICK*)

But! It turns out that it's actually more of a Shugendo tradition, especially in the Yamagata region, though legend does go that Kukai brought the concept to Japan.

So... what is sokushinbutsu?

(CONTENT WARNING uhhh corpses, religious self-harm, starvation, general morbidity, if you google this know that there WILL be pictures.)

Sokushinbutsu are often referred to as living Buddhas or living mummies. The long and short of it is that highly ascetic monks would be mummified, and they would start this process while they were still alive. It's... a pretty difficult process to read about, so I won't go into a ton of detail here, but if you google "sokushinbutsu" you can find way more information.

I will say that it involves slowly reducing food and water intake and increasing the intake of... well, poison, honestly. Both tea made from the Japanese lacquer tree, which has the side effect of sort of lacquering the organs, and local spring water -- which in the case of Yamagata, involves pretty large amounts of arsenic. People all over Japan attempted this process, but by far the highest number of known successful cases are in Yamagata. This is partially because of the popularity of Shugendo there, and partially, people think, because their water had such a high amount of arsenic, which when combined with the loss of adipose tissue and hydration, as well as the lacquer, sort of mummified the organs while the person was still alive.

This process would eventually kill the practitioner, but... I mean, it takes about a decade. This is not something undertaken on a whim. It is an absolutely grueling practice that is considered incredibly sacred. It's a way to ascend past your mortal body and achieve enlightenment, but only for the most devout and devoted practitioners.

(There's a whole lot about ascending past mortal bodies in Buddhism, but I think that and corpse meditation are a different discussion.)

I say that the practitioner "dies", but... I mean, in a scientific sense, yes. These people would die. Shortly before death, they would be placed in a pit underground and essentially buried alive with only a bamboo tube to allow air and sound in and out. They would be given a bell and would periodically ring it to let others know they were still alive. When they stopped ringing the bell, the tube would be removed. They'd come back and check on the body in a few years, and if it had decayed, it was considered a failed attempt and reburied. If it had mummified, it was considered a successful sokushinbutsu and taken out so it could be displayed for veneration.

This is the important part, though. If the process was successful, these are not considered dead bodies. This is a person who achieved Buddhahood while still alive, and they are considered to be in a sort of eternal repose. You go to them to pray and meditate, and often amulets are made from their robes (which are changed every 6-12 years) so people who come to pray can take some of their power home with them.

So... I want to go to learn about Shugendo, but I knew that seeing the sokushinbutsu would be a selling point for Dad... You just have to know how to sell things, I guess.

(You might know from my other posts that I have extremely mixed feelings when it comes to the display of human remains in museums, but I genuinely can't think of a more vociferous consent than the act of sokushinbutsu. Going to see them feels like honoring their wishes, and I do feel that some of them are very beautiful, in a way. So I am looking forward to the experience, though I'll admit to feeling a little trepidation.)

So we will be visiting the Dewa Sanzan, Hagurosan, Gassan, and Yudonosan!

(-san means the same as Mt. in Japanese! so Fujisan is Mt. Fuji. I usually still use -san with mountains out of habit, and Gassan is... incredibly hard to pronounce without doing that, to the point where it is often translated as "Mt. Gassan." lmao. Japanese double consonants are fun.)

The part of this I am most excited about is... Hagurosan has a museum about Shugendo! IN ENGLISH. I cry!!! Apparently one of the yamabushi currently living on Hagurosan is a westerner! Who really wants to teach other westerners about Shugendo! So the Dewa Sanzan website is excellent and I'm so fucking excited to go there and learn.

(They also had yamabushi training programs if you want hands-on knowledge but again. My disabled ass cannot clamber up and down a mountain, unfortunately. ;;)

Yamagata's a large prefecture, though, so the plan is to drive around a bit. We'll be driving between the mountains (but not up Gassan because it'll be too snowy that time of year and I think that one might be hiking-only access...?) and seeing a bunch of shrines and temples. We're also going to spend a night at Hijiori Onsen, a hot spring town in the caldera of an ancient volcano, and a night at *drum roll* a shukubo!

This is Dad indulging me again. Shukubo is a type of shrine or temple lodging. (Usually temple. But this one is a shrine! For reasons I'll get into in a minute!) Essentially, you stay overnight in a religious lodging. You might be invited to attend morning prayers with the monks, specific rituals (Koyasan's are famous for the goma fire rituals), sutra-copying, guided meditation, etc. Traditionally speaking, these were usually stayed at by religious pilgrims, and some were reserved solely for monks, priests, yamabushi, etc. These days anyone can stay at them!

We'll be staying in two during our trip! One at Koyasan, which I hear has tragically become a bit uhhh influencer-y, and this one at Hagurosan.

Now. Why is this a shrine, even though the building was clearly designed to be a temple? Why was Shugendo illegal for a while? Well... I won't get into all the details, but suffice it to say that during different points during Japan's history, either Buddhism or Shinto have been prioritized by the government, and during those periods, the other tended to suffer.

When Buddhism first arrived in Japan in the sixth century CE, it was introduced from China and Korea and had... some settling to do, I guess? Shinto was largely what was accepted in Japan at the time, and people kind of struggled to reconcile the two concepts with each other. Enter the concept of honji suijaku, which is where this baby gets really syncretic.

It's... complicated, like most of this is, but the basic idea is that kami came to be seen as manifestations, or alternate forms, of Buddhist deities. (Buddhas, bodhisattvas, etc.) The Buddhist deity was appearing in the form of kami to better help people in Japan. So the kami and the Buddhist deities were one and the same, just in different guises. These syncretic deities were called "gongen" in Shugendo, which has elements of both religions in it, and were highly venerated.

But... when politics changed and Shinto was again elevated, there was a forcible separation between Buddhist and Shinto spaces. Like... as in an often violent, state-enforced separation. Shugendo, as a syncretic religion of both, was outlawed. At Dewa Sanzan, most Shugendo and/or Buddhist temples converted to Shinto, and they remain that way to this day. (And RIP to many of the Buddhist statues in the area, which have been sadly beheaded.)

So! There are a lot of buildings around there that are clearly Buddhist in origin but have nevertheless become Shinto. The shukubo we're staying at is one of these.

We're gonna see so many temples! So many shrines! We're gonna go to an onsen! We're gonna learn! Some stuff! See! Some things! Some of which are too sacred to even talk about because it's forbidden!

I am excited.

This is only like three days out of a much longer trip but I am like

every time I think about it.

(Okay, I'm actually a little worried about the shrine I'll have to go barefoot for because it's going to be cold as shit and my joints are... bad. But I can manage!)

okay now this is the longest post on earth so I'm gonna stop here, but we're gonna do SO MUCH and we're gonna see SO MUCH and we're gonna learn SO MUCH and my nerdy little heart is on FIRE.

#long post #very very long post #but I put it under a cut because I love you #the travel bug

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