#warp particles

[rosalie-starfall]

Janeway and her Girls - B'Elanna

Star Trek: Voyager - Season 1 Science Gals Being Science Pals

[thresholdbb]

Janeway hates time travel and all but Voyager starts with:

Getting flung so far across space that it’s essentially time travel

Time travel with a quantum singularity

Time travel with cool outfits fractures in time

(Stolen lungs)

(Hurting a tragically coffee-free nebula)

Time travel with a wormhole

[carpsoup]

thinking about the trailer,, videocult what does it all mean

[starsambrosia]

My goal is to give everyone that follows me /or even looks at my posts/ whiplash in the tags.

[nasa]

Observations from both NASA’s James Webb and Hubble space telescopes created this colorful image of galaxy cluster MACS0416. The colors of different galaxies indicate distances, with bluer galaxies being closer and redder galaxies being more distant or dusty. Some galaxies appear as streaks due to gravitational lensing — a warping effect caused by large masses gravitationally bending the space that light travels through.

Like Taylor Swift, Our Universe Has Gone Through Many Different Eras

While Taylor's Eras Tour explores decades of music, our universe’s eras set the stage for life to exist today. By unraveling cosmic history, scientists can investigate how it happened, from the universe’s origin and evolution to its possible fate.

This infographic outlines the history of the universe.

0 SECONDS | In the beginning, the universe debuted extremely small, hot, and dense

Scientists aren’t sure what exactly existed at the very beginning of the universe, but they think there wasn’t any normal matter or physics. Things probably didn’t behave like we expect them to today.

Artist's interpretation of the beginning of the universe, with representations of the early cosmos and its expansion.

10^-32 SECONDS | The universe rapidly, fearless-ly inflated

When the universe debuted, it almost immediately became unstable. Space expanded faster than the speed of light during a very brief period known as inflation. Scientists are still exploring what drove this exponential expansion.

1 MICROSECOND | Inflation’s end started the story of us: we wouldn’t be here if inflation continued

When inflation ended, the universe continued to expand, but much slower. All the energy that previously drove the rapid expansion went into light and matter — normal stuff! Small subatomic particles — protons, neutrons, and electrons — now floated around, though the universe was too hot for them to combine and form atoms.

The particles gravitated together, especially in clumpy spots. The push and pull between gravity and the particles’ inability to stick together created oscillations, or sound waves.

Artist's interpretation of protons and neutrons colliding to form ionized deuterium — a hydrogen isotope with one proton and one neutron — and ionized helium — two protons and two neutrons.

THREE MINUTES | Protons and neutrons combined all too well

After about three minutes, the universe had expanded and cooled enough for protons and neutrons to stick together. This created the very first elements: hydrogen, helium, and very small amounts of lithium and beryllium.

But it was still too hot for electrons to combine with the protons and neutrons. These free electrons floated around in a hot foggy soup that scattered light and made the universe appear dark.

This animated artist’s concept begins by showing ionized atoms (red blobs), free electrons (green blobs), and photons of light (blue flashes). The ionized atoms scattered light until neutral atoms (shown as brown blobs) formed, clearing the way for light to travel farther through space.

380 THOUSAND YEARS | Neutral atoms formed and left a blank space for light

As the universe expanded and cooled further, electrons joined atoms and made them neutral. With the electron plasma out of the way, some light could travel much farther.

An image of the cosmic microwave background (CMB) across the entire sky, taken by ESA's (European Space Agency) Planck space telescope. The CMB is the oldest light we can observe in the universe. Frozen sound waves are visible as miniscule fluctuations in temperature, shown through blue (colder) and red (warmer) coloring.

As neutral atoms formed, the sound waves created by the push and pull between subatomic particles stopped. The waves froze, leaving ripples that were slightly denser than their surroundings. The excess matter attracted even more matter, both normal and “dark.” Dark matter has gravitational influence on its surroundings but is invisible and does not interact with light.

This animation illustrates the absorption of photons — light particles — by neutral hydrogen atoms.

ALSO 380 THOUSAND YEARS | The universe became dark — call it what you want, but scientists call this time period the Dark Ages 

Other than the cosmic microwave background, there wasn't much light during this era since stars hadn’t formed yet. And what light there was usually didn't make it very far since neutral hydrogen atoms are really good at absorbing light. This kicked off an era known as the cosmic dark ages.

This animation illustrates the beginning of star formation as gas begins to clump due to gravity. These protostars heat up as material compresses inside them and throw off material at high speeds, creating shockwaves shown here as expanding rings of light.

200 MILLION YEARS | Stars created daylight (that was still blocked by hydrogen atoms)

Over time, denser areas pulled in more and more matter, in some places becoming so heavy it triggered a collapse. When the matter fell inward, it became hot enough for nuclear fusion to start, marking the birth of the first stars!

A simulation of dark matter forming structure due to gravity.

400 MILLION YEARS | Dark matter acted like an invisible string tying galaxies together

As the universe expanded, the frozen sound waves created earlier — which now included stars, gas, dust, and more elements produced by stars — stretched and continued attracting more mass. Pulling material together eventually formed the first galaxies, galaxy clusters, and wide-scale, web-like structure. 

In this animation, ultraviolet light from stars ionizes hydrogen atoms by breaking off their electrons. Regions already ionized are blue and translucent, areas undergoing ionization are red and white, and regions of neutral gas are dark and opaque.

1 BILLION YEARS | Ultraviolet light from stars made the universe transparent for evermore

The first stars were massive and hot, meaning they burned their fuel supplies quickly and lived short lives. However, they gave off energetic ultraviolet light that helped break apart the neutral hydrogen around the stars and allowed light to travel farther.

Animation showing a graph of the universe’s expansion over time. While cosmic expansion slowed following the end of inflation, it began picking up the pace around 5 billion years ago. Scientists still aren't sure why.

SOMETIME AFTER 10 BILLION YEARS | Dark energy became dominant, accelerating cosmic expansion and creating a big question…?

By studying the universe’s expansion rate over time, scientists made the shocking discovery that it’s speeding up. They had thought eventually gravity should cause the matter to attract itself and slow down expansion. Some mysterious pressure, dubbed dark energy, seems to be accelerating cosmic expansion. About 10 billion years into the universe’s story, dark energy – whatever it may be – became dominant over matter.

An image of Earth rising in the Moon’s sky. Nicknamed “Earthrise,” Apollo 8 astronauts saw this sight during the first crewed mission to the Moon.

13.8 BILLION YEARS | The universe as we know it today: 359,785,714,285.7 fortnights from the beginning

We owe our universe today to each of its unique stages. However, scientists still have many questions about these eras.

Our upcoming Nancy Grace Roman Space Telescope will look back in time to explore cosmic mysteries like dark energy and dark matter – two poorly understood aspects of the universe that govern its evolution and ultimate fate.

Make sure to follow us on Tumblr for your regular dose of space!

[nerdy-hyperfixations]

Also as a side note can I say: yes I know Bill is an unreliable narrator. I fucking love reading unreliable narrators, so as someone who loves reading unreliable narrators I wanna mention that "unreliable" doesn't mean "everything they say is a lie" if that was the case, what would the point of even reading it be.

It means read with skepticism and analyze the text to see what might be true and what might not. If an unreliable narrator tells you the door is yellow that doesn't automatically mean the door is actually purple!!! Just be careful of how their warped perception of reality actually distorts the text

So yes. Technically, Bill could be pretending to regret destroying his universe. Technically, the part in Ford's where he grows distant and calls the being that destroyed his universe a monster could be an act, or the entire part of that journal could be fake and made up by Bill. But consider: if the parts were fake why would Bill include the random anecdote of Ford going out in the blizzard that doesn't serve to grow sympathy for him and only proves he was a "bad muse" that didn't help Ford out. Why would he include any of the parts where him and Ford argue at all really? Plus, considering he seems to argue with the account, saying Ford didn't get his humor, lends the idea to me that this is Ford's real, lost journal entries. And if it is, why does Bill keep a dust particle of the last remaining piece of his dimension in his hat for millenniums? Is it more understandable to assume this is the truth at this point than search for radical explanations on how Bill fabricated the events to lie?

There are parts that are obviously fabrications by Bill. Obviously, when he says he "wasn't upset at all" over Sixer, he's lying, and the punch-line is the next page shows an actual account where he's crying. You can tell he was lying because the text shows a different story than what he says. In general, the story is told by a very unreliable narrator and should be read with skepticism. But you should also take in to account when the story is telling the truth.

The book is *supposed* to make you feel bad for him, but that doesn't mean everything he says to make you feel bad for him is absolutely 100% a lie.

[slowd1ving]

Hi! I love your lookism fics, I would love to see your take on Seongji Yuk x gn reader. Something sweet and simple would be great!

I see that you like using science metaphors and im curious to how many can you use in one fic. I’m a complete chemistry nerd 🤓 😂

THE MUNDANE . 　⁺ ✦ SEONGJI YUK

In which an amateur stargazer finds that no, they do not teach biology in Cheonliang, and yes, gravity does in fact affect everything with mass. woah... gravitational fields.... woah inverse square law... woah, G.... ik you probably wanted more chemistry but I couldn't resist the physics gnawing away/// arghhh pairing: seongji yuk + gn reader warnings: prejudice (quite literally lookism) wc: 1.3k

LOOKISM MASTERLIST

MASTERLIST ・゜・NAVIGATION

There’s a monster living in the Cheonliang mountains. 

A flutter of cloying kindness greets you when you first pull up to the rural village: tires burning on summer asphalt, senseless droning of cicadas, and warm rain seeping through your thin clothes. No rhyme or reason as to why you decided on this particular village to stop by; though, the rhyme might just be the hiccuping couplet of your pulse. Specifically, this pair of beats as your motorcycle drives past the tunnel; heavy, like two black holes encountering each other for the first time. Spinning, spinning. As the wheels on your bike do, naturally. 

Six fingers and toes, he’s cursed by the gods! Hark, my children—

Newton’s theory of gravitation dictates any particle with matter attracts any other with a force inversely proportional to the square of the distance between them. This is the inverse square law. It’s used for practical and theoretical applications, but it’s pretty useful when considering why people are drawn to something when they are close to it. Emotionally, physically, empathetically. Psychologically. See, once one begins to increase the proximity of two souls, there is a certain degree of attraction that occurs consequently. 

Pray should you ever encounter this one, for he is but a merciless, mad beast.

It’s a stagnated hum that twines through the fields. Little kids begin the verse, and their elders finish it while you leisurely drive past. Over and over. They play hopscotch to the rhythm in their secluded playgrounds, clap their small hands to the beat, and seem to have no eerie feelings behind their bright smiles. A distorted tale, wound through with the modest price of one person’s dignity. There’s a basis for every tale, after all—bitterly warped to suit the storyteller’s perspective. 

Do not pity the one abandoned by all. 

Thus, when you begin the winding slopes through the fields and up around the mountains, it reduces the distance between you and the epicentre. You trust your gut. You believe (mostly) that what compels you to park your motorcycle on this particular trail is no madness, but rather a tangible, logical reason. A scientific one, if you will. You’re a mass, the monster of Cheonliang certainly is a mass—thus gravity objectively binds you both. 

It’s not entirely implausible to suggest the rumours entice you as much as anything, but the heavy telescope bound to your vehicle is as good a reason as any to stop by this eve. And that: the buzz in your very cells, that seem to divide simply to tug you in the direction of the sprawled forest. Stargazing in Cheonliang it is, then. 

Despite your idle curiosity, you don’t go looking: quietly setting up your equipment in a clearing where the breeze flows cleanly, like fragile forgiveness in a peaceful room. It’s a saccharine solitude—as sweet as tanghulu when you close your eyes. 

“It’s dangerous.” Those are the first words you hear in this village that aren’t blighted by eerie insinuation. Here, where the mountain is solitary and sepulchral, that is the only time you find someone who isn’t the real monster in this mired town. Human, flesh and blood and warm. 

“Isn’t everything?” You peer through the eyepiece experimentally, focusing on the calm tide in his voice—

“No need t’be a smartass.” His cadence becomes slightly rougher as you hear a dull thump; by the movement of syllables, you’d judge he just leaned against a tree. “Was a piece of friendly advice.”

Hmm. You look away from the sky that’s somehow cleared up—miserable grey giving way to faint periwinkle, then atrament smattered with incandescent freckles—then at the stranger peering right back at you. 

“What should I be wary of, then?” There’s a relaxed sort of ease in your body, one you’re unfamiliar with. 

He stares at you askance, as though you’re an idiot. 

“Strangers,” he answers brusquely, pointing at himself. “Haven’t you heard the rumours about this place?”

“Oh.” You turn back to the equipment, leaning down to bring the height of the scope up comfortably. Stars, you think dreamily. “That stupid song? Here I thought you’d say boars or something.”

“Stupid song?” he echoes. “And you still went up?”

Six digits on his left hand as it sways downwards, six on the right hand nestled in his pocket. He’s tall, so much so that anyone would feel intimidated staring up at the guy. Close—he’s close by, which is perhaps why you gravitate towards him. Two masses, feeling greater force with greater proximity. This was the epicentre that drew you here. 

“Is biology class illegal here or something?” you counter incredulously. “Do I need to pay attention to fear mongering?”

“No,” he murmurs thoughtfully. “I guess you don’t.”

It’s strange. Your first encounter with Seongji Yuk can only be classified as abnormal. Gazing at the massive bodies scattered across the heavens, it’s perhaps common sense that the man next to you interests you as much as those heavenly giants. He’s closer, after all—kneeling down beside you so he can peek up at stars just as large as him. 

Maybe it’s fate. Maybe it’s simply science that ties the two of you together. He gives you his name, you offer yours in return. Seongji Yuk. Lying in the grass with damp seeping into your shirt, you ramble about astrophysics, while he carefully coats fruits in molten sugar. Shards as sharp as the words at the base of the mountain, though far sweeter. 

He’s cautious—you can feel his eyes on you as you sit on his wooden steps. In fact, his eyes trail after you when dawn breaks and it’s time to move on to your original destination. 

“I’ll come visit,” you vow, for the cycle of orbit has already begun. Two masses have drawn closer to each other, and naturally begin the spin round their counterpart. 

“No one told you about stranger danger?” You’re too damn trusting: haloed in ditzy stars, the type in cartoons when characters hit their heads. Except it’s permanent, and you don’t look stupid, but rather awash in their glow. 

“Everything’s dangerous,” you evade sheepishly, and that’s that. 

Summer comes and goes, but it’s fine not bringing your telescope in the chill of autumn. After all, you’ve found something equally as captivating to stare at. Inky eyes, dotted with such a shine that it looks like a star’s emerged rather than a pupil. 

It’s as if the year is put into distillation—monthly visits condensing into fortnightly ones, then weekly ones, before you’re driving the hour down to this place every few days. He’s made you a little space in his house: one where you can snooze on a spare futon with little worry for safety. For there’s no place more secure in a ‘monster’ lair than by the side of a so-called ‘monster’. 

“Quit staring,” he warns, matter-of-factly while the axe collides with the wood on the stump—cleaved neatly in two, almost too cleanly. 

“You’re pretty, I just can’t help it,” you sigh, leaning back on the creaky porch. There’s a book by your side: a thick text filled with particles and numbing quanta. 

You’re strange. He’s had this thought for a while, but especially today. In fact, you may be more supernatural than he, for each time you say such things, his heart skips one or two beats. Like clockwork, the mechanical nature of your spell is guaranteed: mouth going somewhat dry, ears seeping with a faint crimson, eyebrows creasing minutely. 

Why? 

“Have you seen yourself?” you counter incredulously, and that is when he realises he did not keep his thoughts silent. “You’ve literally got stars in your eyes, man. You….”

Ah. It’s moments like these where he feels so utterly ordinary; listening to you ramble on about things he doesn’t particularly understand, just like anyone else his age. 

It’s nice being bound to someone like this: close to another, experiencing the gravity that draws two people together for himself. 

Science is a perfectly plausible thing to believe in, after all. 

[mysticstronomy]

WHAT IS THE SPACE - TIME CONTINUUM??

Blog#364

Saturday, January 6th, 2024.

Welcome back,

The space-time continuum is a concept in physics that refers to the idea that space and time are two aspects of a single entity, called spacetime. In other words, instead of thinking of space and time as separate entities, the theory of relativity suggests that they are intimately connected and should be considered together as a four-dimensional fabric that makes up the universe.

The concept of the space-time continuum arises from Albert Einstein’s theory of relativity. According to Einstein, the passage of time and the curvature of space are affected by the presence of mass and energy. Massive objects like planets and stars can warp the fabric of space and time, causing other objects to move along curved paths.

The theory of relativity also predicts that time passes differently for observers in different states of motion. Specifically, time dilation occurs when an object is moving at high speeds, causing time to appear to pass more slowly for the moving object relative to a stationary observer. This effect has been observed in experiments and is an important factor in the operation of devices like GPS satellites.

The concept of the space-time continuum has important implications for our understanding of the nature of the universe, including the behavior of particles traveling at high speeds, the structure of black holes, and the origin and evolution of the universe as a whole. It also provides a framework for understanding the fundamental laws of physics and the behavior of matter and energy in the universe.

Originally published https://medium.com

COMING UP!!

(Wednesday, January 10th, 2024)

"IS TIME INFINITE IN BLACK HOLES??"

[carmillascrusade]

Game of love | Larissa Weems x f!reader

Images do not belong to me. Summary: Parents weekend is upon you and you find yourself at the fair with Morticia and Larissa. Confessions ensue.

Word count: 2,940

A/N: I figured I would post this fic that I wrote donkeys ago while I’m working on a multi-chapter fic. It isn’t proofread😨 I feel like my writing style just changes all the time and I can’t get it to be consistent.

Your desk was overflowing with paperwork and unfinished report cards, the sheer size of the work you know you have to do was overwhelming. Dull flames danced in the fireplace, licking the fresh log you put in there a couple of seconds ago, eventually setting it alight. Tiny particles of ash blew around the room, weightlessly floating around, suspended by the air encompassing the room. Oh, what it would feel like to be weightless and free. 

Parents weekend was fast approaching. In two days parents of all would be congregating in the school and the local town- much to the displeasure of the sheriff, and yourself. Two days. You had a measly two days to finish off your work and all the report cards that sat mocking you on your desk. 

With a sigh, you accepted your fate and began to silently plough on with your work. Hoping, no praying, that parents weekend wouldn’t drag. After all, there is only so much socialising you can do. 

Parents weekend came faster than you expected. From the frosted window of your office, you could see cars pouring in through the front gates. Hopefully nobody you went to school with would be here. 

Checking the mahogany grandfather clock that sat in the corner of your office, you glanced at the warped needles to determine that it was only 4 o’clock. Plenty of time to get these reports to Larissa. 

Gathering the pristine envelopes in a bundle, you dashed to Larissa’s office hoping that none of the parents had made their way just yet. 

To your dismay, as well as Larissa’s by the fall of her face, you entered her office as Morticia Frump and her family were there. Huffing softly, you crossed the room with the intent of handing Larissa the reports and leaving as soon as possible. 

It wasn’t that you didn’t like Morticia, no, she had been your friend during your years at Nevermore together. It was just that you hadn’t spoken to her in years since her marriage, and her presence meant that her husband was here too. Gomez Addams, you thought with distaste. You disliked the man, loathed him even; Larissa had loved him unconditionally and he chose someone else. Who wouldn’t choose Larissa?

Maybe you were just biassed. Maybe your hatred came from the fact that she loved him and not you. Loved him even though you had always been by her side. Loved him even though you have loved her since you were children and never stopped. 

Larissa is the sun, and your life revolves around her; because without her, you wouldn’t be alive. 

You were snapped out of your thoughts by Morticia’s silky smooth voice calling your name, claiming that she hadn’t seen you in years but you still look exactly the same. 

Forcing out a smile at her clearly fake interest in you, you replied. “Yes, I haven’t seen you since you left Nevermore and got married. You still look as wonderful as ever, Morticia. The gods have been kind.” 

“Hmm, I suppose they have. But look at you! The gods have certainly been kind there.” She said, sickly sweet, whilst her eyes roamed up and down your body. 

Larissa’s mouth twitched at that, her perfect smile falling ever so slightly before being abruptly put back in place. She coughed in impatience, dragging both yours and Morticia’s attention towards her. 

“Might I remind you that we are here to talk about your daughter, Ms Addams.” Larissa said with a clipped tone. 

Morticia laughed at that, gliding over to you and placing her arm on your elbow. “We have all weekend to talk about Wednesday, Larissa. I just want to catch up with my friend. Is that so wrong?”

“No, I suppose not.” She huffed, aggravated at Morticia’s audacity to touch you. 

Morticia grinned wickedly at her before turning back to you. “Would you like to go to the fair with me tonight?” She asked, still sporting that sickening grin. 

You pondered her request. While it would be fun to catch up with her, you also knew that she had a deeper motive. She was playing a game that you would rather not play a part in. 

“I suppose we could go to the fair tonight,”

“Oh wonderful!”

“On one condition,”

Her smile fell at that and her eyes narrowed dangerously. “And what is that?” She gritted out. 

“I want to invite Larissa too!” You chirped. If you were going to play this game, you may as well have fun whilst doing so. 

You glanced over at Larissa, smiling wistfully. If only she loved you the way you loved her. 

Morticia huffed at your request, agreeing and inviting Larissa to the fair with the two of you. Fully expecting Larissa to turn down the opportunity in favour of working, you were pleasantly surprised when she agreed; her tone still clipped as she answered Morticia. 

Excited at the prospect of getting to spend time with Larissa outside of the school grounds, you quickly gave her your finished reports, fingers lightly brushing against her own, causing your cheeks to tint pink at the heat radiating off them. Excusing yourself from the room, you made your way back to your room with an extra bounce in your step. The glee radiating off of you noticed by all that passed. 

Tonight was going to be amazing. 

The temperature had dropped drastically since this afternoon, resulting in you looking like a stuffed chicken in your winter clothes. You had decided to wear your favourite jumper, an egg shell coloured woven piece crafted of the finest wool; gifted to you by Larissa of course. 

A small vibration in your pocket alerts you to a message. Pulling your phone out proved to be a great difficulty with your frozen fingers. Larissa had messaged you, letting you know that she and Morticia were sitting on the table closest to the entrance. 

Easy enough to find you supposed. 

Plodding over to the entrance, your eyes scanned the area, desperately searching for the familiar platinum blonde hair you loved so much. Your eyes lit up as you spotted her with Morticia. They seemed to be sat contesting in a nonverbal contest, staring at each other with such contempt that the average onlooker would recoil in fear. 

Rolling your eyes, you slid onto the bench next to Larissa; snapping the women’s attention towards you, eliciting beaming smiles from the both of them. Smiling back, you looked at the outfits the other two were wearing to find that you were the only one dressed appropriately for this weather. 

Huffing in discontent, you eyed both of them wearily. What kind of people don’t wear coats in freezing weather?! It is ridiculous! 

“How aren’t you two freezing?” You blurred out, narrowing your eyes at Morticia specifically. At least Larissa had a blazer on, Morticia just had her iconic dress adorning her body. 

Morticia just laughed at you whilst Larissa offered you a small smile. “My blazer is warm enough for me. Not all of us need to wear twenty layers to stay warm.” She said, lightly joking about your inability to stay warm. 

Your turned your head away from her in false anger before spotting the burger van. Larissa loved burgers. “Larissa!”you shouted excitedly while tugging on her arm. “Look, there’s a burger van! Do you want a burger?” 

Larissa saw the excitement on your face at the prospect of buying her a burger. Unable to deny you, she nodded her head. Beaming at her, you shot out of your seat and bounced over to the burger van. 

She looked over at you fondly. Ignoring Morticia’s prescense completely in favour of watching your retreating form. Morticia wasn’t too pleased at the disregard of her presence, so she decided to start her plan. 

“So,” she drawled. “Do you really think she loves you back, Larissa?” 

Larissa’s eyes narrowed at that, sensing the thinly veiled  threat Morticia had laced into her words. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She snapped back. 

“Oh, but I think you do. You look at her like she holds the world in her hands. Only a fool would miss it.” 

“I do not.”

“Very well. Let’s make a bet, shall we?” Morticia paused, waiting for an answer. Seeing that Larissa was refusing to speak to her, she continued on anyway. “I bet that by the end of the night, she will be looking at me the way you look at her.”

“And if she doesn’t?” Larissa countered, praying to the gods that they wouldn’t let Morticia take something else away from her. 

“Then I’ll leave you two alone. Deal?” 

“I’m not making petulant bets with you, Morticia. Especially over her.” Larissa seethed, angered by the fact that Morticia would even dare use you in her childish games. 

Glancing over to the side, Larissa saw you bounding back with her burger and two trays of chips in hand. The fact that you hadn’t bought anything for Morticia amused her greatly, eliciting a slither of hope that, just this once, Larissa wouldn’t lose somebody she loved to Morticia Frump. 

You sidled back into the bench next to Larissa, handing her the chips you bought her along with her burger. You had bought her her usual order and yourself some chips. Larissa’s chips were adorned with tomato sauce in the corner whilst yours had vinegar slathered all over them. 

Reaching out to grab a chip, you realised that you forgot to get Morticia anything. Eyes widening at your brief amnesia, you shot her a sheepish look across the table, hoping that she wasn’t too offended. 

Morticia sat with a scowl, arms folded across her chest as she stared at the two of you. Larissa smirked back at her, waving her burger around; the silent message was clear. You had bought Larissa food and not Morticia. 

It wasn’t until you began eating before you realised that Morticia didn’t have anything to eat. Was she expecting you to buy her something? Shrugging your shoulders you figured that she just wasn’t hungry. 

Turning to Larissa, you asked her a question. “What are we going to do first, Rissa?” 

“Hmm,” she hummed, mouth still full of food. Deciding to tease you slightly, she chewed on for a while, pretending to be deep in thought; causing you to stare eagerly with those doe eyes she loved dearly. “ I think that we should go to the darts stall. I would be honoured to win you a teddy.” 

Your squeal of excitement broke through the crisp night air, scaring the previously resting birds causing them to chirp restlessly at the disturbance. Smiling up sheepishly at them, you shouted a quick apology before throwing yourself into Larissa. “Please, Larissa! Please win me a teddy!! I will love you for all eternity, I love teddies!” 

Shooting a dazzling smile your way as you hung on her arm, chest pressed flush against her body, she sneered at Morticia across the table. You wanted HER to win you a teddy, not Morticia. 

Not one to lose a challenge so quickly, Morticia rose, drawing your attention. “Well,” she started, seething because you were still holding onto Larissa. “Shall we make our way to the darts stand? I’m sure I could win you a larger teddy than Larissa.” 

“We will see, Ms Addams.” 

Tensing slightly at the tension between the two, you pulled on Larissa's arm- directing her over to the darts stand. A few games in Larissa won you a medium dragon teddy. It was black with iridescent purple scales and big bulging eyes. You loved it dearly, holding it to your chest as you watched Morticia play. 

You both watched Morticia intensely as she threw each dart. Each of them hitting the bullseye. Larissa’s smile fell as she watched the games handler grab a giant panda to give to Morticia; her prize now feeling insufficient. 

Morticia smiled triumphantly, outdoing Larissa was her favourite way to pass time. Handing you the panda, she shot a smug look at Larissa and her downcast eyes. 

You grabbed the bear off Morticia and gave her a small smile, too engrossed in the dragon Larissa won you to care about the oversized panda. 

Morticia waltzed off, claiming that she wants to go on the ferris wheel next. You turned around to look at Larissa, the oversized panda dangling dangerously close to the floor while you clutched your dragon. Larissa’s eyes were hung low, a wounded expression singed on her face. 

“Rissa? What’s wrong?” You asked. 

“It’s silly really. No need to worry, sweetheart.” She touched your chin slightly, angling it up so she could smile down at you. 

Your heart pounded in your chest at the pet name she gave you. Beaming up at her, you reached for her arm, tugging her lightly towards the ferris wheel. She would tell you what was bothering her when she was ready. 

You and Larissa arrived at the ferris wheel to greet an angry Morticia, apparently displeased at your refusal to trail after her like a lovesick puppy. Her eyes flicked to your panda trailing across the floor, eyes narrowing at you clutching Larissa’s teddy to your chest. 

Huffing slightly, she motioned for you and Larissa to get on the cart. Larissa sat down first, patting the seat next to her, motioning for you to sit next to her. Plopping down next to her, you shuffled as close as you could; holding your dragon on your lap, placing the panda between you and Morticia- much to her displeasure. 

Carnival lights glistened peacefully as the whirring of the ferris wheel drowned out the laughs of joy from below. Larissa’s breath was coming out in slow puffs, visible due to the cold chill of the night air. She was far more beautiful than any other woman. The prettiest to ever exist. 

The top of the ferris wheel was far higher than you were expecting, triggering your fear of heights. Sensing an oncoming panic attack, you grabbed hold of Larissa’s hand as you were in desperate need of grounding. Noticing your inner turmoil, Larissa rubbed soothing circles over your hand, whispering sweet nothings in your ear. 

With Larissa help you calmed down. Desperately wishing that the ferris wheel would end shortly, you closed your eyes and rested your head on Larissa’s shoulder; still grasping her hand dearly, unable to let go of the comfort she provides. 

The ride ended not long later and you got off with wobbly legs and tear stained cheeks, still clutching Larissa’s hand. Morticia watched you with a mix of rage and jealousy. Why hadn’t her plan worked? Not one to back down so easily, she sauntered up to you, offering you a ride home in her car. 

Politely, you declined. Stating that Larissa had already offered. You watched as Morticia’s level headed facade began to crack, her face twisting in anger as she finally accepted that her plan had failed. Swiftly turning on her heel, she stomped out of the fair without even saying goodbye. 

You turned to Larissa confused as she smiled down at you. Why had Morticia reacted that way? Shrugging your shoulders, you let Larissa tug you towards her car- you were in desperate need of a break from all the walking. 

Sitting down in the leather seats of Larissa’s car, you placed your dragon in your lap and the panda by your feet. Shooting a smile at Larissa, you placed your seatbelt on and turned towards the window. The full vibrations and the quiet whispering ls of the radio lulling you into a deep slumber. 

Pale wisps of sunlight filtered through the closed curtains, arousing you from your slumber. The familiar scent of Larissa filled your senses as you suddenly became aware of the weight on your stomach. Slithers of silver, platinum blonde hair fanned around your face, perfectly manicured nails spread over your stomach, and a warm body pressed up against your back. 

Turning around, you were greeted with Larissa beautiful face; mouth open and eyes closed, mumbling about something in her sleep. Giggling softly, you leant closer into to her and inhaled her scent. Not wanting to wake her up, you reached for your phone, took a picture of the both of you, and waited for her to wake. 

You could feel the moment she woke since her grip tightened as she became aware of her surroundings. Raising your head off of her chest, you greeted her with a blinding smile, to which she returned. 

The velvety hues of her groggy voice filled the air as she spoke to you. “ You stayed?” She questioned, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. 

“Of course I stayed. Why wouldn’t I?”

“ I figured you would be disgusted sharing a bed with me.” She admitted. 

“Of course I wouldn’t, Rissa. Only a fool would be disgusted at sharing a bed with you.” You replied with earnest. 

“Is that so?” She hummed. “And why is that?” 

“Because, you’re the most beautiful woman in the entire world. You radiate grace and elegance. And I find myself utterly enraptured with you.”

“You do?” She asked, her face contorted in confusion. “Why on earth would somebody be enraptured with me?”

“Because I love you, Larissa. I have always loved you. I wake up and you’re the first thing on my mind. I sleep and all I dream about is you. You’re the highlight of my life and I could never live without you.”

“Well then. It’s a good job I find myself utterly and hopeless in love with you too, isn’t it?” 

A/NII: Can’t wait for the Christmas holidays so I don’t have to do anything for two weeks.

[f3mme-f4tale]

☾ bound by bloodshed ☾

part four

⇠ part three word count: 3.7k potential warnings: explicit language, mean!ellie, mild sexual content, fluff at the end?? pairing: seattle!ellie x female reader ☾ mood board authors note: this is more of a filler chapter than anything else, so i apologize. theres been a lot of changes in my life over the past few months -- so i've been trying to deal with that. regardless, i have a lot more free time now that ive graduated form college & moved (yay!), so hopefully (fingers crossed), i'll be more active on here :)

FREE FREE PALESTINE!

You kick at the dirt with the rubber sole of your shoe, feeling the grit shift beneath your feet, a tiny cloud of dust puffing up like a sigh too weary to lift off the ground. It’s the same sigh that escapes your mouth, the sound barely more than a breath of resignation. Ellie pretends not to notice – or maybe she does and just chooses to ignore it – her determined stride carrying her further ahead, her silhouette hunched slightly under the weight of the days and miles. It’s infuriating how stubborn she could be, how she can walk right past you, eyes set on the distance, as if the tension between you doesn’t hang in the air, thick and unyielding.

It’s been two days since you’ve tasted each other, two days since that frenzied collision of lips and limbs. Two days, and Ellie is still reeling in the aftermath, the memory of your shared warmth now a cold space between you. The military base should only be a few more days out, but every mile feels like it’s dragging the earth with it, the ground itself conspiring to keep you from reaching any sense of normalcy.

“Up there,” she mutters, digging around in her bag as she gestures up ahead to the remnants of an storefront – Walsh’s General written in faded ochre lettering above the door. Ellie goes to mess with the front door only to be met with an unmoving lock. 

“Hold up,” you say, lightly pushing past her to kneel in front of the latch. A disordered piece of discolored metal slips from your front pocket, your fingers pushing the shiv into the lock with practiced ease. The familiar click of the tumblers falling into place is a small victory, a sound that seems to echo in the stillness of the abandoned street. You push the door open, and it creaks in protest, the wood swollen and warped from years of neglect.

Ellie steps in first, bravado always hindering, eyes scanning the dim interior. The air inside is thick and stale, filled with the scent of old dust and decaying wood. Shelves stand half-empty, their contents long since looted or ruined. A few cans of food, some faded clothing, and a scattering of other forgotten items are all that remain.

"Let's see what we can find," Ellie says, her voice low but determined. She moves deeper into the store, her movements careful and deliberate. Despite the tension between you, there's a sense of unspoken understanding; you both know what needs to be done.

You follow her lead, moving to the back of the store where a set of stairs leads to what was once an office or storage room. The floorboards groan under your weight, and you have to tread lightly to avoid falling through. Ellie remains on the ground floor, rifling through the shelves, while you ascend the creaky staircase.

At the top, you find a small room, its walls lined with dusty boxes and old papers. A single window lets in a thin beam of light, illuminating the dust particles that dance in the air. You approach the window, peering out at the deserted town beyond. Outside, the world is a tableau of decay, the buildings slumping like weary travelers, their facades peeling away in layers. A deer cautiously steps out from behind a crumbling wall, its sleek body almost ghostly in the fading light. For a moment, you watch it, captivated.

The deer suddenly freezes, its ears twitching as if it senses something you can’t see. Then, in a blur of movement, it darts back into the shadows, disappearing as quickly as it appeared. The stillness that follows is almost suffocating, and that uneasy feeling in your gut tightens once again. You turn away from the window, pushing the momentary distraction out of your mind. There's nothing to gain from dwelling on what you can't change. Instead, you focus on the task at hand; the room offers little in the way of comfort or safety, but there’s a chance it might hold something of value. 

Your eyes land on a particularly large, dust-covered box in the corner. It’s sealed with old packing tape, its once vibrant logo now faded and peeling. Curiosity, or perhaps the need for something to distract you from the growing tension, drives you to your knees, your fingers carefully peeling back the brittle packing tape that holds the box closed. The box gives way with a soft crackle, revealing a jumble of items inside.

You sift through its contents, finding old rags, a few yellowed notebooks, and a tarnished ring. Nothing of immediate value, but then your fingers brush against something cool and metallic. You pull it out, revealing a small, rusted tin canister. The label is barely legible, but you recognize the symbol – it's an old military supply canister, the kind that usually held emergency rations or medical supplies.

Excitement flickers in your chest as you twist the lid open. Inside, wrapped in oilcloth, is a small stash of medical supplies – a roll of bandages, a few vials of antiseptic, and a couple of syringes. It’s not much, but in your world, it’s a treasure.

“Ellie’s going to be thrilled,” you whisper to yourself, carefully tucking the canister into your bag. A crumpled up piece of paper drops from the canister – a curious predicament.

You unfold the paper, its edges fragile, and find not just a note, but a letter that seems to have been written in a rush. The handwriting is small and neat, though the ink is slightly smudged, as if the writer’s hand had trembled. Nestled within the folds of the letter is a small, faded photograph of a man and a woman, standing close, their expressions solemn but tender. They aren’t smiling, but there’s a quiet intimacy in the way they lean into each other, a shared understanding.

Annabell, I’ve fought against everything that’s kept me from you. I tried, Annabell, I really did. But trying wasn’t enough, and that will haunt me. Of all the choices I've made, the one that keeps me awake at night is not being by your side. We were always more than just two people – more like threads spun together, impossible to separate without unraveling completely. This letter isn’t a goodbye, though I fear it feels like one. We were never ones for dramatic gestures or tearful farewells, were we? So I’ll spare you that. If you find yourself heading north, there’s a place that might offer some safety. Look for the old oak in the front – the one with the hollow trunk where we used to hide our notes when we were kids. I left something there for you. I hope you find it. I hope you make it. And if you don’t… well, if you don’t, then at least know this: Every decision I made was to try and make the world a little less cruel for you. For us. Maybe I failed, but it was never for lack of trying. If someone else finds this letter, I hope you carry it forward. Maybe it’ll mean something to someone. Maybe it won’t.  I'm sorry Annabelle. Matthew. 

The letter hits you with a quiet intensity, the words measured and grounded, stripped of any romanticized finality. You gently pick up the photo, studying the faces of the couple. Their faces are looking at one another, a knowing look passing between them like a punch to the gut, raw and real in a way that makes the dusty room around you seem even more desolate. 

When you make your way back downstairs, Ellie looks up, her gaze curious but wary. You pull out the letter and the photograph, handing them over without a word. She doesn’t react much at first, just taking in the words and the faded image. After a moment, she hands it back, her expression a little more thoughtful than before.

“Did he make it?” she finally asks, her voice subdued.

“Doesn’t sound like it,” you reply quietly. Ellie shifts slightly, moving her weight from one foot to the other. She doesn’t meet your gaze, her eyes instead fixed on some distant point in the room, as if looking directly at you might break the fragile peace that’s settled over this moment. The tension between you has been a constant companion, a silent third party in your journey, but now it feels different, heavier, more present.

“They were holding on to something,” she says, her voice quieter than usual, almost as if she’s speaking to herself rather than to you. There’s a sadness in her tone, a kind of weariness that you recognize all too well – the exhaustion that comes not just from the miles you’ve walked or the battles you’ve fought, but from carrying the weight of memories. 

“Seems like it,” you reply, slipping the letter back into your pocket. The silence stretches, but it’s not uncomfortable. Ellie’s gaze lingers on you for a second longer than usual, her eyes searching yours for something – understanding, perhaps, or maybe reassurance that the words you’ve just exchanged mean more than they seem. But before you can offer anything, before you can even think of what to say, she looks away, the moment passing like a brief pause in the rhythm of your steps. It’s a fleeting connection, a moment of vulnerability that’s here and then gone, lost in the vast expanse of everything else that remains unsaid between you.

You both know the score, the unspoken agreement that binds you – survival first, everything else second. But something has shifted in the dynamic between you, even if neither of you is quite ready to acknowledge it yet.

Then, without another word, you both move on, the creaking floorboards underfoot the only sound that accompanies you as you head toward the exit. But as the door closes behind you with a soft thud, the mood shifts, subtle at first. You can sense it before she even speaks; Ellie’s demeanor changes, her shoulders tense as her steps grow more deliberate, more forceful. 

“Was that all you found?” she asks, her voice sharp and laced with impatience. The softness from just moments ago is gone, replaced by a hard edge that catches you off guard

You’re taken aback by the sudden change in tone, but you quickly shake off the surprise and respond with a controlled voice. “I mean, there were just some old rags and useless company papers up there, if that’s what you mean.”

Ellie’s eyes narrow, the frustration in her gaze intensifying. “So you didn’t actually find anything useful, then? Great. Just great.” Her tone is dismissive, almost accusatory, and it stings more than you’d care to admit. The way she says it, the implication that you’ve somehow let her down, it’s like a slap in the face after everything you’ve been through together.

You raise an eyebrow, your irritation growing. “I didn’t see you finding anything of value. Maybe you should’ve gone up there yourself if you thought it was so easy.” The sharpness in your voice reflects your own mounting frustration.

Ellie’s face flushes with a mix of embarrassment and anger. Her hands ball into fists at her sides, her posture rigid. “It’s not about the supplies,” she snaps. “It’s about you acting like you’re doing everyone a favor by finding something we already knew was probably useless.”

You throw your hands up in exasperation, your frustration boiling over. “I’m not acting like I’m doing anyone a favor. I’m just trying to make sure we’re prepared for whatever comes next. But if you’d rather sit around and wait for something to magically appear, that’s fine too.”

Ellie shakes her head vigorously, her voice rising with each word. “You know what? Maybe I would if you didn’t keep making everything so complicated. You’re always trying to prove something, and it just makes everything worse.”

“Prove something? What are you talking about?” You shoot back, your patience wearing thin. “I’m just trying to survive, same as you. If you stopped making everything a competition, we’d actually get somewhere.”

Ellie’s laugh is bitter, her frustration palpable. “God, you love to pat yourself on the back. But I guess that’s just your thing – acting like you’re the hero when you’re really just making a mess.”

You’re silent for a beat, fully taking in her jab. Is that what she really thinks of me? Sure, you had exasperated your fair share of insults; but that seemed over the line. It’s one thing to clash over strategies or tasks, but her comment feels like a personal attack.

At this point, you can feel the argument spiraling into pointless bickering, the tension in the air thick. “Fine! If it means that much to you, I’ll let you handle it. I’ll let you handle everything. I’m done trying to help. ”

Ellie scoffs, the exasperation clear in her voice. “I never asked you to.” 

⭒⭒⭒⭒

Ellie and you sit on opposite sides of the campfire, the darkness amplifying the unspoken frustration that lingers between you. The day’s patrol had been grueling, and the tension between you two is nearly unbearable. Ellie glances at you from across the fire, the glow from the flames dancing eerily on her freckled face.

You chance a glance at Ellie, her lips tightly pursed, and her knuckles white as she grips the edge of the rock she's sitting on. She seems lost in her own thoughts, and it's clear that she's just as uncomfortable with the situation as you are. Ellie breaks the silence first, her voice harsh and cutting. “You know, you really have a talent for pretending everything’s fine. How do you manage it? Acting like you don’t care about anything except what’s right in front of you?”

You shoot her a sharp look, the accusation hitting hard. “Oh, don’t even start. It’s not like you’re any better. You’ve been walking around with this chip on your shoulder, acting like I’m the cause of all your problems!”

Ellie's eyes widen slightly, her grip on the rock tightening even more. Her jaw clenches as if she's holding back a flood of retorts. "Excuse me? Me? I'm the one with the chip on my shoulder? That's rich coming from you." Her voice is laced with both anger and hurt. She leans forward, the fire casting shadows across her face. "Ever since we got paired up, it's like you've been counting the days until we're done. Like I'm nothing more than a nuisance."

“And you’re just so perfect, right?” you snap back, standing up, your frustration boiling over. “You act like you’re handling it all, but you’re the one pushing everyone away because you’re scared of actually dealing with it!”

Ellie stands as well, her voice rising. “Scared? Scared of what? Dealing with your endless stream of excuses and half-assed attempts at being a decent partner? Newsflash: I’m not here to babysit your emotions!”

“You know what? Fuck you,” you shoot back, stepping closer, your anger palpable. “You’re so sick of me? Tomorrow I’ll be gone.” The argument is raw and unrelenting, every word a dagger. The emotional weight of the day, combined with the unresolved tension, erupts between you. Ellie’s frustration and your own anger collide in a chaotic, volatile mixture.

And in a moment of impulsive recklessness, Ellie grabs your collar, yanking you closer. It’s not a gentle kiss, but a clash of emotions and raw need, driven by the tension that’s been simmering for so long. You respond with equal fervor, your hands finding their way to her face, pulling her closer.

The kiss is a desperate release, a tangled knot of emotions unraveling in a moment of primal need. It’s messy, rough around the edges, but it’s also real and unfiltered. You push her back against a nearby tree, the rough bark pressing against her back as the kiss deepens. The pain blends with the heat of the moment, and despite her internal conflict, you find yourself returning the kiss. Her hands rest on your waist, unable to decide whether to push you away or pull you closer.

“You’re so fucking annoying,” you manage to utter, fingers running through auburn locks. The other girl scoffs against your mouth.

"And you're just as annoying," Ellie snaps back between kisses, her fingers digging into your hips. “Insufferable... Aggravating... Impossible..." She mutters, the words lost in a clash of kisses and tongue.

“Say you need me,” you demand, holding her face. Ellie pauses, the words caught in her throat. She hesitates, her eyes locked on yours. The admission hangs in the air, caught between desire and pride. But slowly, reluctantly, she concedes. Her breath shivers slightly as she speaks. 

"I need you.”

She unfastens the buttons on your shirt, one by one, her movements deliberate and filled with barely contained need. Hesitantly, you capture a stray piece of hair between your knuckles and brush it behind her ear. Ellie's attention flickers to the touch, leaning into your hand and expression softening for a moment. You swear she could feel the fast pace beat of your heart against her chest, breath hitching in your throat. You pathetically whimper as she palms your stomach, wanting nothing more in that moment for her to do inappropriate things to you in the middle of the fucking forest. 

A hushed moan left Ellie as she traced patterns onto your lower abdomen, the other woman getting off on your body’s reaction. In turn, your skin felt on fire, Ellie’s touch igniting a blaze within you; as if she was the match and you were burning. Her kisses move from your mouth to your jaw, then down your neck, each one like a scorching brand against your skin.

"Ellie... you're maddening," you pant, a needy edge to your voice. "I want to strangle you... and kiss you senseless."

She drags her lips back up to yours, capturing them in a kiss that’s as much a challenge as it is a surrender. It’s rough and needy, like she’s trying to prove something, trying to make you understand just how deep you’re both in. You clutch at her shirt, desperate for something to hold onto, feeling like you might fall apart if you don’t.

But beneath the rawness, there’s a tenderness that neither of you can deny. It’s there in the way her hand trembles slightly as it trails up your side, in the way she hesitates just for a fraction of a second before deepening the kiss, as if she’s afraid of breaking something fragile between you.

There’s a softness in her eyes that wasn’t there before, a vulnerability that takes your breath away. “Don’t leave,” she says quietly, almost like a plea.

Within minutes, Ellie was on her knees. 

⭒⭒⭒⭒

Ellie’s face is soft in the dim light, her features relaxed in a way that you rarely see anymore, the hard edges of survival temporarily softened by the quiet peace of the early morning. There’s a hint of a grin tugging at the corners of her mouth, a subtle curve that you catch out of the corner of your eye, and you turn to her, curious. 

“Hey,” she begins, her voice low, almost hesitant, as if she’s not quite sure she wants to break the spell of silence that has settled over you. “Remember that time we tried to make a treehouse out of scrap? We thought we’d live in it and everything.” Her words are light, almost playful, a stark contrast to the usual tension that accompanies your conversations, and you can’t help the smile that tugs at your own lips in response.

The memory she’s conjured is vivid, a flash of color and sound that washes over you in an instant, transporting you back to a time when things were simpler, when the weight of the world hadn’t yet settled on your shoulders. You can see it clearly in your mind’s eye – the two of you, younger, more carefree, standing in a sun-dappled clearing back in Jackson, surrounded by the scattered remains of what was supposed to be your masterpiece. The air had been thick with the scent of pine and freshly cut wood, the sound of your laughter echoing through the trees as you hammered and sawed, your hands sticky with sap and dirt.

You laugh now, shaking your head at the memory, the sound of your voice startling in the stillness of the morning. “Yeah, and we ended up with a pile of broken wood and a lot of splinters. Didn’t exactly turn out like we planned.” The words are tinged with nostalgia, a warmth that spreads through your chest as you recall the look of determination on Ellie’s face, the way her brow had furrowed in concentration as she tried to fit the mismatched pieces of wood together, her tongue poking out slightly in that way it does when she’s really focused.

Ellie’s laughter joins yours, a light, genuine sound that fills the space between you, breaking through the tension that has lingered there for so long. It’s a rare moment of levity, a brief respite from the seriousness that has come to define your lives, and you find yourself savoring it, the sound of her laughter like a balm to your weary soul.

“Yeah,” she agrees, her grin widening, her eyes bright with the memory. “But it was fun. And it was ours.” There’s a note of pride in her voice, a quiet satisfaction that comes not from the end result, but from the effort itself, from the shared experience of creating something together, no matter how imperfect.

You look at Ellie, really look at her, and in the soft light of the approaching dawn, she looks younger somehow.. There’s a lightness in her gaze, a vulnerability that she rarely allows herself to show, and it makes your heart skip a beat, a quick, fluttering sensation that catches you off guard. It’s not just the memories that have stirred something within you, not just the shared experiences that have brought you closer over the years – it’s the way she looks at you now, the way she allows herself to be open, to be seen, if only for a moment.

“Yeah,” you say softly, the word barely more than a breath. “It was.”

fic taglist: @seraphicsentences @onlinelesbo @yumimak @elliewilliamsblunt @bready101

[aquaquadrant]

Why do I feel like Etho and Patho would actually really get along well. Like there'd be a minute of "oh shit" then they'd be making some weird machine together.

Also any chance you would be willing to share the story about Patho's clock and maybe info on Hels Bdubs?

(honestly? true. patho isn’t bothered enough w the concept of being a doppelgänger so he’d be chill w etho if etho was chill with him. and etho’s like. always chill. anyway idk if this’ll answer ur questions but here’s uhhhh something)

~*~

patho pauses at the top of the netherrack hill, boots hissing briefly as he shifts off a magma block.

xyz: -12,485.167 / 67.09835 / 253,295.942

the coordinates ever-present within his field of view tell him he should be another hundred or so blocks away in the z axis, but he can already see the jungle’s grown since his last visit. it’s been slowly overtaking the neighboring nether waste biome for a couple decades, now. rate of growth has held constant, unchanging. that's something, at least.

patho slowly scans the horizon. words and numbers flash across the left half of his vision as his cybernetic eye rapidly processes new information based on visual input: netherrack, netherrack, crimson nylium, grass, jungle wood, jungle wood, jungle leaves, weeping vine. light level 3, 3, 3, 2, 1, 2, 3, 4. there's a lava pool eleven blocks over in the x axis; light level 15.

he starts walking again.

153 fps t: inf fancy-clouds b: 15x15 3 tx 3 rx c: 695/41672 (s) d: 16, pc: 000, pu: 00, ab: 42 e: 23/109, b: 0, sd: 9 p: 18 t: 109 error fc:0 xyz: -12,487.331 / 65.21091 / 253,375.987 block: -12,487 65 253,375 chunk: -780 15 7,835 facing: south (towards positive z)(1.5/5) client light: 5 (0 sky, 5 block) biome: error:nether waste local difficulty: 6.75//0.00 (day error404 not found) sounds: 5/247 + 0/8

the data shifts with every step. he's learned to tune most of it out by now, only paying attention to the biome indicator as he crosses the chunk threshold.

biome: error:crimson jungle

particles and sounds immediately jump up a couple degrees. glowing red specks dance slowly in the air, mingling with the ambient noises; hoglins rooting around in the brush, parrots calling unseen from the canopy above, lava bubbling in a pool nearby.

p: 35 sounds: 23/247

the temperature is warmer here. patho shrugs off his jacket, letting it hang at his elbows as he picks his way through the jungle. he doesn't even need to think about where he's going, coordinates left ignored at the edge of his vision. he's taken this path many times before, and he never has to wander very long.

his boots crunch softly on the nylium and grass terrain. jungle leaves and crimson fungus alike brush at his shoulders as he ducks underneath branches, taking care not to get tangled in weeping vines.

this is his favorite jungle. it's not the only crimson jungle he's ever come across- not to mention the warped jungles- but out of all the biomes he's seen, it's the one with the greenest leaves. something about this jungle sustains the normal trees just as well as it does the fungi, allowing the grass and leaves to stay bright and full instead growing in wilted and brown. it makes a lovely contrast with the blood red fungi.

not for the first time, he's thankful that the jungle is far enough away from spawn to be left alone. if other players knew about this place, with its well-sustained passive mob spawning and greenery, they'd destroy it for resources for sure. but he never worries too much about that possibility, because no mob or player sets foot in this jungle without permission from-

a weeping vine suddenly sprouts from the ground and lashes around patho's leg.

it's quickly joined by several more, snaking out from the undergrowth to wrap around his other limbs. before he can blink, he's lifted off the ground and pulled up into the trees. he doesn't struggle, doesn't panic- this is nothing new to him. the vines string him up among the highest branches, where a familiar figure is crouched in front of him, nothing but a pair of glowing red eyes beneath a heap of moss.

<player>dat -7063fdce-39ac-4a12-d836-a990c45b2bb0

"hey, dbubs," patho says casually.

the figure straightens up, hood falling back to reveal his face. his huge red eyes are sparkling with excitement, despite the dark circles lining them, and his mouth falls open in a wide, sharp-toothed grin. vines of varying shapes and sizes curl lazily around his body, small tendrils sprouting from the mossy cloak he wears. a couple veins of red discolor his skin, crawling up his neck and across his face. his messy hair is a bit whiter than the last time patho saw him, tinged red at the roots. a clock hangs around his neck, to match the one hanging from patho's hip.

"patho!" dbubs practically shouts, throwing his arms out.

sounds: 24/247

before dbubs can say anything else, patho asks his usual question. “what’s your name?”

“what’s my-” dbubs blinks, works his jaw for a second. “GODSLAYER666,” he proclaims loudly, puffing his chest out. then he pauses, frowns. “wait, no, i- i don’t know why i just said that. uh…”

it’s somewhere in the middle, then. not as bad as his worst days- at least he’s aware he’s lying, even if he has no control over it. and patho has to admit, that's one of the most entertaining responses dbubs has ever given to his little test.

"uh huh." patho shifts in the web of vines. they're holding a bit tighter than normal. of course, he could still easily break out of them. if he wanted to. "did you miss me, dbubs?" he asks instead, his voice teasing.

dbubs throws his head back to let out a sharp laugh, sending a shower of red particles fluttering through the air. "what?" he demands incredulously, his eyes blown wide. "miss you? i d- eugh, n'you stupid- i- i didn't even notice you were gone!"

patho hums with amusement. "then you don't wanna, like, kiss me or anything?"

"no," dbubs insists stubbornly, even as he comes closer. he steps boldly into patho's space, hands coming up to grab his face. "no, no of course not, i don't..." his long eyelashes flutter as he looks patho up and down. he smells like moss; like old vegetation and decay. there's soil and dried blood caked under his fingernails. "why would i- you ha- you have a lotta nerve..." dbubs tugs at the left strap of patho's mask, tilting his head. "do i- uh, do i get to see ya?" he asks, expression suddenly eager.

"yeah," patho chuckles.

dbubs grins widely, pulling patho's mask down. for a moment, he just looks at him. his calloused hand scuffs along the metal parts of patho's face- the entire ramus of his left mandible and most of his cheekbone, lost in the explosion that took his eye. the remaining skin is rough with scar tissue. dbubs strokes his thumb along that, too.

"i lo- um, i- i hate your stupid face," dbubs mumbles before he finally kisses patho. he seems to process his words a second later, breaking away with a small gasp of "oh! i d-", but patho simply leans in again, reclaiming his lips.

he knows what dbubs meant.

~*~

dbubs spares patho the trouble of walking, simply having the vines carry him to the hideaway. it's a difficult base to categorize: part tree house, part nest, part garden. in some places the floor is made of wood- in others, just a thick layer of leaves. there are potted plants and hanging vines everywhere, interspersed among stacks of barrels and moldy bookcases. little red mushrooms sprout from walls made of thatch and tree trunks. a couple of shroomlights provide gentle lighting as glittery particles drift through the open air; red, from the biome itself, and green from the spore blossom that patho brought him last year.

the vines unceremoniously drop patho onto the makeshift bed- a mat of moss and old, shredded banners. he's barely gotten settled, pulling his mask up and pulling his jacket off, before dbubs flops onto him with a heavy wuff.

"so!" dbubs starts loudly, propping his elbows up on patho's stomach. "what brings ya to see ol' dbubs today, huh?"

patho huffs a laugh. "what, i can't just stop by to say hi?"

"oh sure, okay." dbubs rolls his eyes, one of his vines flicking through the air dismissively. "you j- yeah, okay, be all secretive, then! see if i care." his haughty demeanor doesn't last long, though, as he shimmies up a little further, arms folded on patho's chest. "d'you- uh, do you wanna hear what i've been doin'?"

patho sighs good-naturedly, shifting so he can tuck his arms behind his head and lean back against the wall. "alright, go ahead."

dbubs beams at him and immediately starts telling lies. he tells patho about all the amazing things he's built (the jungle looks the same), all the incredible battles he's fought (no one's entered the jungle in years), all the wonderful places he's gone (he can't leave the jungle).

but patho doesn't mind that it's all lies. he's content to listen anyways.

they carry on like this until dbubs suddenly pauses, scrambling for his clock. "uh oh! gotta schreep."

patho glances at his own clock; dbubs is right on time, as always. that's one thing he never lies about. "okay, okay," he says, pushing dbubs off- he hits the moss with a soft thump. "lemme get my anchor."

"well, hurry up already!" dbubs shouts impatiently, vines swatting at patho's arm as he pops down his ender chest.

after placing the anchor and setting his spawn, patho reaches up and presses his finger directly into the center of his left eye, shutting it off.

he doesn’t regret putting a data processor into his cybernetic eye; the information it’s given him is invaluable. but every now and then, he needs a break from it. even when his eyes are closed, the display is still active, showing blank values on the back of his eyelid. turning the eye off is the only way to make it go away- of course, at the price of half his vision. so he only does it if he’s sleeping somewhere fully secure, and if he’s alone.

the jungle is an exception. dbubs has full domain out here- no mob or player can come close to his home without him allowing it.

"finally," dbubs huffs as patho settles back down. he's quick to cling with both his arms and assorted vines.

patho can't help but chuckle. "what's that you said about not missing me?"

"oh, shut up!"

~*~

patho abruptly reenters consciousness, emerging from a deep, dreamless sleep. with a soft groan, he fumbles to turn on his cybernetic eye, wincing at the sudden influx of data.

149 fps t: inf fancy-clouds b: 15x15 3 tx 3 rx c: 695/41672 (s) d: 16, pc: 000, pu: 00, ab: 42 e: 1/109, b: 0, sd: 9 p: 52 t: 109 error fc:0 xyz: -12,587.412 / 96.77253 / 253,401.623 block: -12,587 96 253,401 chunk: -783 15 7,845 facing: north (towards negative z)(1.5/5) client light: 7 (0 sky, 7 block) biome: error:crimson jungle local difficulty: 6.75//0.00 (day error404 not found) sounds: 27/247 + 0/8

"goooood morning!" dbubs calls, over on the other side of the little nook. he's busy rummaging through barrels, perhaps trying to find some breakfast. it’s unlikely he has any food stored; when he’s hungry, he hunts, and the jungle always provides.

"mornin'," patho says, rubbing his face. he sits up- and then pauses. there are weeping vines wrapped tightly around his legs. he sighs. “dbubs, you’re doing it again.”

“what?" dbubs manages to sound surprised. "no! no, i’m not, i’m- i’m just over here, minding my own business, crafting a loom.”

“a loom,” patho repeats flatly.

“yes! for um, for banners.”

“do you even have any wool?”

“do i ha- uh, of course! yes, of course i do.”

“can i see it?”

“no. no, i- i just ate it, actually. um-”

“you ate it?”

“yeah. sorry.”

patho sighs again. he kicks the weeping vines away. "i uh, i didn't mean to be gone for so long," he says, rising to his feet. "but, you know, i- i got held up with a job."

"a job?" dbubs glances over his shoulder at patho, squinting. "what kinda job?"

patho stretches his arms above his head, hearing both his natural and mechanical shoulder joints pop. "some guys out west are tryin' to make a portal out of hels."

"a portal?" dbubs's mouth falls open. "oh, for goodness sakes- and you call me a liar!"

patho knows better than to take offense. "it's true. they've got a player who came here from another world."

"uh huh." dbubs scoffs, but he can't quite hide the anxious shimmer in his eyes. "yeah, yeah, sure... so- i mean, did you do it, then? make them a portal?"

"basically." patho shrugs. "i uh, i told them everything they needed to know, to make one."

"right. you told th- okay." dbubs nods, bites his lip. "um- you didn't stay? to see the portal? or, uh…”

patho chuckles, crossing the distance to put his arms around dbubs's waist. "nah. i mean, come on, you know me, dbubs. i'm a- i'm a hels player, through and through. what's the rest of the universe got that's better than this place, right?"

dbubs grins at that, slotting his arms through patho's. "oh, you- you're such an idiot! y'know, i uh, i've been outside'a hels before and i- um, let me tell ya, you're missing out!"

"mhmm." patho smiles even though his mask is on. he knows dbubs can tell.

"yeah! "dbubs nods vigorously. "and, uh, there's- i got a whole world that's just mine!"

"is that right?" patho rests his chin on the top of dbubs's head. "tell me about it."

"it's a beautiful world, of course. my perfect builds, i ha-"

"of course."

"- uh, hey! quit interruptin'!"

"sorry, sorry."

"i di- thank you. so i um, i built a big ol' crastle, with a- hyeugh, a sorta um, horse course... y'know, with th- with the fastest horses anyone ever saw, one-stick horses, and- and uh, everyone was really impressed…”

this won’t last forever. it’ll only be a matter of weeks, months if they’re lucky, before patho won’t be able to ignore the itch to wander again. before the comfort and familiarity of the jungle becomes unbearable. before dbubs grows so used to his presence that the jungle itself tries to overtake him, the way it has dbubs- vines and veins of red.

he’ll leave without warning in the middle of the night, while dbubs is sleeping, because trying to leave while dbubs is awake never ends well. he’ll leave without a word and try not to think about the frantic whispers he knows dbubs sends him on lonely nights, despite knowing patho will never receive them (it’s the only time he regrets fusing his communicator with his arm- but how was he supposed to know he’d hear it in his mind? how was he supposed to know that disabling the chat was the only way not to lose himself completely to the endless flood of data?)

he’ll stay away long enough for dbubs to shatter apart, losing himself to the wildness of the jungle, and come back together. he’ll wait until dbubs has recovered from his grief, so that the next time dbubs sees him there will only be joy. because no matter how many times patho hurts him, dbubs always forgets it eventually.

“… so, you see, ol’ dbubs been workin' on a new technique, using the uh. grade- uh, gradient? block palettes... to create depth. ah hah! so- so listen, now, to teacher! it all starts with the color scheme..."

this won’t last forever. so for now, patho closes his eyes and listens.

error fps t: b: tx rx c: (s) d: , pc: , pu: , ab: e: , b: , sd: p: t: error fc: xyz: / / block: chunk: facing: ( )( / ) client light: ( sky, block) biome: error: local difficulty: // (day error404 not found) sounds: 1/247 + 0/8

~*~

[forever--darling]

Hi sweet girl , I want to tell you that your me & the devil fic is one of my favorites and one of the best I'm reading. For me Anakin x reader is perfection 💗.

I don't know if I'm being too ambitious but in blurb ideas I have one for Hayden and one for Anakin. I would like it to be fluffy.

From Hayden it could be something like : How is an outing with him ? ( I love how homey he is ) . Cooking together , watching movies in his living room while cuddling . Him giving that charming smile he has .

And for Anakin I love the idea of how he comforts his girl . Hugs , nicknames , cuddling together .

summary: a night staying in, resulting in getting high, has you unable to focus on the idea of sex when you're too busy laughing & realizing the extent of your feelings

pairings: hayden christenson x young!reader

word count: 1.0k

warnings/notes: age!gap (reader in mid-twenties), mention of weed/getting high, fluff, honeymoon phase af, mentions of sex, mentions of anakin skywalker

p.s. to whoever requested this, I will be doing your second request as well sometime soon.

masterlist

Blue pupils stared back at you, up through the dim lighting of the bedside lamp. Slightly blown out, from the weed in his system or you, you weren’t sure. You couldn’t know as this wasn’t something the two of you ever did often, yet the sudden fire beneath your skin and the precious need to press your body close to his was something you craved. Perhaps, it was the way his lips felt along your collarbones, the sides of your neck, or how his warm hands, calluses in all, felt along the bareskin of your sides. Maybe it was just him in general, how much and how quickly you had found yourself wanting him. 

Or maybe it's just the drugs. 

The way they seemed to warp your senses, filling the air with some sort of stamina that left the particles buzzing and your breath astray. The music sounded quieter than it really was, but perhaps it was masked by the soft giggle that poured out freely. 

“What? What is it?” Hayden sighed, almost disappointed, his head lifting up from where his lips had been attached to your collarbone, kissing softly.

A quirk appeared in his brow, a teasing look in his eyes as he took in the way you appeared so perfectly pinned underneath him. His body on top of yours, legs parting yours, his weight light as they pushed you deeper into the mattress. 

Your laughter quit but only for a moment as you tried to explain just what was so funny to you in the first place, something that wouldn’t have been nearly as funny if you hadn’t smoked as much as you had. For not having done it in a while other than the edibles you had at least once a week, you had forgotten how much to inhale. 

“Nothing,” you said, trying to appear as serious as can be, a smile forming in a fine line as you met his stare. 

Your laugh burst out again, though, and your eyes crinkled shut, unable to stop the way the hormones attacked the neurons in your brain. 

“Right,” Hayden replied, narrowing his eyes playfully, the redness in them no doubt matching your own. “Clearly, it’s nothing if it has you laughing as much as you are.” 

You shook your head, hands automatically wrapping around his strong shoulders, fingers carding through the back of his hair almost like they had a mind of their own. The softness of the short curls had your heart bursting if that was even a feeling. 

“Seriously, tell me.” 

“I can’t.” 

“And why not?” he demanded, thumbs rubbing soft circles across your hips. 

“Because…” 

You were laughing again, and his head was falling, meeting your chest with ease, a sigh filtering out of his lips. 

“Baby,” he mumbled, lips pressed along your collarbone again, but this time no longer gracing them with the kisses you had come to love so much. Almost too much. 

“Fine, okay,” you gave in, laughter diminishing again to nothing but a soft chuckle, tears pricking your eyes as you tried to get the words out, “I was just thinking…” 

“Yeah?” 

“When you’ve hooked up with girls in the past, have they, ever, you know. Asked you to like dress up in costume?”

A deadpan look appeared on his face as his head lifted, eyes finding yours again, “What do you mean?” 

“Like, have they ever been mid-foreplay and straight out asked you if you can dress up as Anakin or Darth Vader?” 

“Where is this coming from?” he chuckled, too, lips lifting into that smile that somehow had convinced you to leave all the guys your age in the past. 

“Or have they asked you to pull out your lightsaber?” 

“Y/N,” he shook his head, mouth forming in an ‘o’, almost in surprise as you continued to laugh. “I’m trying to initiate sex here, and you’re laughing about if other girls have asked me to make their Star Wars sex fantasies a reality?”

“Well, yeah,” you replied, the tone almost accusatory tone as if it was something you would be asking, especially five hits later from the joint that was now stubbed out in the bathroom. 

“You’re ridiculous, you know that,” he laughed then, too, “Why, is that something you want? Do you want to know about my lightsaber?” 

“I mean, yeah, who wouldn’t,” you retorted, laughter falling away to complete seriousness.

 Staring down at him, you felt the silence lull, almost swallowing you whole as the realization appeared again, almost like a car hitting you out of nowhere. The realization that you had fallen for an older man, a man you hadn’t expected to ever want you back, to notice you the way he had. Worse, to love him as you did so quickly, so immensely was too much, too much to understand, to accept. 

Yet there you were, pinned beneath him, heart so full, so well-kept, hoping that it would stay close within his palms for the rest of time. 

That charming smile appeared then on his face, his eyes crinkling slightly, a certain sort of contentment appearing as if he had had a revelation of his own. Words were not enough in that moment, so evidently as he leaned up, connecting his lips with yours, softly, deeply as if he was trying to pour his very own breath into your being. 

You loved this man; that was inevitable. 

After a few seconds, he pulled back, only enough for his lips to depart from yours. That smirk of his still firmly sat along his face. “So, what are you saying? Do you want me to go grab my wardrobe from set? I’m sure you would really have something to laugh at then, wouldn’t you?” 

You loved this man, and you wanted him like this forever.

“Yeah, I would.” 

[crigeartist]

Piglin headcannon stuff

This is a special interest not an English essay, if you comment on my spelling or sentence formulation I will blow you up with my mind.

Netherrack has different 'variants' depending on other substances its exposed to and mixes with. Netherrack near the lava oceans melt very slowly, (like, over thousands of years years slowly) which has caused them to condense into a sandstone like mineral that is much more fire resistant. It's darker in coloration (similar to that of nether brick) And a little more malleable than regular netherrack, its used a lot in heavy armor and shields as a result. The presence of different minerals also affect the features of netherrack. when near a lot of soul sand, netherrack will take on a noticeably paler shade of red, while being cold to the touch. it melts much easier and quicker than regular netherrack and is generally weaker than it too. however it makes good armour for piglins that are living in higher altitudes or near the lava oceans. Netherrack exposed to gravel will be deeper in hue. It will crumble like sand in one's hand. When mixed with magma cream it becomes a gooey almost wet clay like substance. hardening like clay when heated. It acts as an amazing insulator and thus is used a lot in making houses and layers within the bastions.

There is weather, kinda. Since the nether is another dimension entirely the laws of physics and gravity don't work quite the same. all this to say that, the lava oceans have 'tides' even without a celestial body to affect them. these lava tides affect the heat of nether. particularly, it affects the higher altitudes and the areas at sea (lava?) level. because heat rises, the more the lava pools raise the hotter those areas get, meanwhile valleys or depressions in the terrain retain relatively cooler and more stable temperatures throughout tide changes. There's a pattern to these tidal changes, most easily comparable to seasonal changes in the overworld over a longer period. high tide can last ~5 human months, low tide lasting ~6 and between the two is an 'unstable season' where it can change dramatically from high to low quickly. this lasts ~3 months

like other aquatic(?) animals, striders have a mating cycle. bi-yearly (once every time the tide cycles finish twice) a massive congregation of wild striders make their way to the highest elevation near a warped forest. they then spend the time grazing and mating for ~2 human weeks.

they have their own version of the aurora borealis during low tide. when the tide goes out, lots of ash, netherrack, blackstone, basalt etc. particles go into the air, raising with the temperatures until they reach the highest point they can. Its here in which the particles can interact more freely between each other. If they reach perfect temperature and conditions, a reaction will happen that will ignite some of the particles, causing fire to 'dance' around the sky. this fire will be a wide variety of colors depending on the contents of the mineral particles in the area. a lot of tribes call it something like 'dance of gods' with a lot of religious beliefs and rituals being connected to it. It can go by a wide verity of names depending on which group of pigfolk you ask

There are variations within the species depending on the climate or biome they live in. for piglins that are in valleys or farther from the lava lakes their fur will be shorter but thicker. the hair naturally keeps them cool and resistant to lava/fire with an oil it produces, kinda like ducks, without the need to be fire resistant, a lot of valley residing tribes have shorter hair since it just weights them down. It thickens to keep them warmer since they're not so close to the heat of lava lakes. they also tend to have darker, more spottier coloration to keep them blended in with the netherrack. Species near lava lakes have longer fur, particularly on the top of their heads, on their chins, and occasionally, top to middle of their backs. They're a lot more resistant to lava and bathe in it using magma cream to keep them xtra safe from burning alive. (like sunscreen but for showering) A lot of these tribes tie their longer fur into braids and fit gold rings on it. the style depends on the tribe that they belong from. Their colors are typically brighter and more smooth between the changes of fur color. this helps them blend in with the lava and bright surroundings. Their eyes are noticeably darker, ranging from brown, purple, to full black. The reason is to protect their vision from the harsh light from the lava. a lot of these piglins are larger and bulkier than the rest. the rare few tribes that make their homes within soul sand valleys or wastelands are a little shorter and thinner than the rest. With speed unaffected by the soul sand and eyes a soul-like blue. These piglins are typically not seen out of their enviornment and often used as the boogymen in stories of piglits so they don't wander off. These piglins can go pretty long without food or sleep within their own biome. outside of it though they get more sluggish and tired. Those who venture off outside of their biome take small jars of soul sand with them in necklaces as a sort of charm to keep them from getting these tiredness spells. Okay its 1:30 and I got class in six hours so this is all yall get for now Feel free to use and modify these for your fics if you ever wanna :D

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

I've been dreaming of the Undersea Marauder.

There are so many rules in this world. So many shackles to keep him down.

Let nothing obstruct his errant path.

How does a moment last forever? How can a story never die?

A fish is bound to the water his entire life.

It’s not a life for him.

Floyd is on his back, set adrift in the face of the Coral Sea. His hands cradle the back of his head, and he finds himself staring up. A flock of birds form an arrow, slicing through the sky. He wonders where they're going, what they'll do there.

Some merpeople dreamed of trading scales for skin, but Floyd thinks about giving up his fins for feathers. A pair of wings with which to witness all manner of strange things…

He chuckles soft.

Wouldn't that be so freeing?

“Eheheh. I wanna try it, too! Wait up for me, birds. Here I come…!”

Floyd rights himself and dives unto the frigid waters. His powerful tail undulates like a teal ribbon, propelling him after and faster. He steadily gains, chasing the shadows of the birds that skim the surface of his home turf.

Floyd approaches, lifting himself toward the shimmering boundary between sea and sky. A second later, he breaks through with a mighty splash.

His body elegantly arcs in the leap. He’s a skipping dolphin, a flying fish.

Free.

Floyd launches higher and higher, zipping past the flock. He collides with some birds, screeching with laughter as they spin like cars out of control.

Here come the clouds now—he easily bursts through them. They’re made of cool and fine-grained beads of water, refreshing him as he flies.

And higher still he goes, the sky dimming, a gradient of light to dark.

Floyd is among the stars, each twinkling like diamonds in greeting. The planets, like massive globes of sugar orbiting him.

The eel is weightless, effortlessly floating through space. With his arms, he paddles--and though there should be no gravity, the space warps and gives like water, letting him sail as smoothly as a ship after a storm.

He reaches out and plucks a star out of the cosmos, giving it a curious lick. The taste is like sweetened milk, and so he pops the entire thing into his mouth.

Then begins his descent.

At the peak of his jump, surrounded by the stars, he bends downward and plunges.

But there are no longer any waters waiting for him.

He crashes through a canopy of leaves. They scatter like papers, raining down verdant, brown, scarlet, tangerine, and gold. Sunlight pierces them, giving each a magical glow.

Roots come, skittering by him like a snake might slink. Thin tendrils extend from them, brushing his face.

Maybe there is some other name for them? Hyph-something, myce-whatever. Floyd does not care to remember his twin's excitable rambling.

Alarmingly, he spies an ugly bulbous cap poking out from a root. His nose crinkles with disgust.

Shiitake mushroom.

Floyd paddles through the fungi and plants, the scent of dirt and chlorophyll filling his nostrils. It's fresh and green mixed with damp and earthy, nothing like the salty smell of the sea.

Jade would like this, he thinks.

Daisies push through, their petals tickling his skin. He takes a shaky breath, holds, shakes again, and...

Sneezes!!

A great gale is unleashed, clearing his surroundings in an instant. Floyd is sent flying up, up, and away--

He shoots out of the dunes. Sand scatters from the force he emerges with, throwing particle clouds up into the air. Floyd flails, trying to balance his body. No use--he flops uselessly under the pull of gravity.

A scream rips from his throat. Not of terror, but of joy.

The landscape unfolds into a sandy expanse. In the distance, he sees an oasis guarded by palm trees. And below, a great city crowning the desert.

There are bright tents and stalls pitched, merchants hawking their wares. Vases and lamps with unique patterns, ripe fruits, adornments in a variety of designs.

Families and friends mill about in the packed marketplace, satisfied with their mundane lives, the schedules they keep. So content, so peaceful.

Floyd grins.

And he lets himself plummet straight into a stall.

The weight of him collapses it with a loud THUD. The merchant looks on, horrified, and his circle of customers gasp, putting distance between themselves and Floyd. Sticky with fruit juices, he removes the strand of black hair that clings to his cheek.

"Eh, guess it could be worse," Floyd shrugs, tossing off a chunk of watermelon sitting like a hat on his head. A line of juice dribbles down his forehead.

He notices the crowd staring and wiggles his tail in a casual pseudo-wave. One person immediately faints--but luckily, they're caught by a concerned onlooker.

"Riffraff!" the merchant shouts, waving a fist. "Scoundrel!! I demand compensation for what you've wrecked!"

Floyd rolls his eyes. He sounds like Azul.

The eel hauls himself off the pile of fruit--and peels right past the feet of the customers. The merchant's face heats.

"Guards! GUARDS!! Come quickly, HELP!! There's a sea monster on the loose!!"

Floyd rapidly drags himself across the market, digging his talons into the ground, his tail pushing him forward. He gleefully writhes as people scream and flee, clearing a path for him. His laugh, cackling.

He's at the waterways that thread the city when heavy footsteps spill into the street.

"He went that way!!"

Floyd doesn't look back before he dives back into his natural element.

The water welcomes him, its streams washing off the sand that paints his skin, loosening the hair that clumped from fruit juices. A tender kiss, a kind hand.

He has returned to the sea.

The channel goes deeper than Floyd thinks. It widens, becoming an entire ocean bathed in sunlight. A coral reef teeming with life stretched out below him, and when he runs his hand along it, tiny seahorses escape and trail bubbles.

He turns his head this way--a school of rainbow tropical fish race by. The other way, a band is in full swing. A carp on the harp, the plaice on the bass, bass on brass.

Floyd twirls as he passes, happily humming along to the tune. The music wraps around him, giving a warm embrace. He almost misses his name being called, almost forgets himself.

"... od....... loyd... Floyd! There you are."

A face that matches his appears beside him. He is followed by a boy with lilac skin, a series of squirming tentacles at his beck and call.

“Where did you vanish off to?” Jade asks. “Azul and I were starting to get worried about your whereabouts. Weren’t we, Azul?”

“I’m more concerned for the places he visits rather than Floyd himself. Who knows how much collateral damage he could cause unsupervised,” the octopus merman grumbles.

“Oya, Azul… Could it be that you lack faith in Floyd? Even though he has unquestionably served you since middle school?"

"You're saying strange things again. I recall him losing interest and changing his mind last minute more often than 'unquestionably serving'." Azul raises a brow. "So? Where were you all this time?"

Floyd flings himself at the duo, slinging his arms around their shoulders and pulling them close.

"F-Floyd?! What is the meaning of this?" Azul sputters, struggling against his binds.

"I was everything and everywhere all at once," he responds with a laugh. "I was as free as a bird! I'll tell you guys about it~"

"Fufu, it sounds as though you've been away on quite an adventure. We would, of course, be more than happy to hear of your escapades."

[ardienothesieno]

SPECULATING ABOUT THE WATCHER

Wanted to make my own analysis post, as I've seen some comments on other sites pointing out things but nothing here so far... AND I AM TOO DEEP IN THE BRAINROT TO NOT ANALYZE THIS EVEN JUST A LITTLE BIT. SO.

I would like to mention that I have not played any modded regions! So if there are certain details that I make note of in the screenshots that have explanation in their original mods, please feel free to correct me!!

STARTING OFF WITH THE TRAILER:

Rot tendrils. Rot tendrils on the ceiling... just casually... that's totally not concerning...

The blue lizard only has two toes on each foot!

The background of this first shot looks like it might be on an iterator structure? There are some support beams but other then that it's just clouds.

The spears that the scavenger is carrying are kind of weird... for one, they're white. And one of them has a large, almost pinecone-shaped tip.

Also they have a crack in their face/mask.

what the pole plant doin

The Watcher doesn't seem to have a nose? That's probably just an art style thing, but I thought I'd mention it. Also their eyes are glowing.

Even the title font has implications. whoa.

For one, more rot. The rot has now made a double appearance and that probably guarantees its significance here...

And plants... Leaves and some vines.

The way that the black screen transitions to a white one is very rot-esce to me. Rot triple appearance...

There seems to be some graffiti on the right side of the final shot? It's obstructed by the visual effects in the foreground, however.

Once again Watcher is depicted without a nose BUT THAT'S NOT IMPORTANT BECAUSE THIS SCREEN HAS IMPLICATIONS

Watcher is floating. Normally I'd mark this off as "cool title screen choice" but they're also surrounded by ECHO PARTICLES.

And the warping around the Watcher and the title? THE OUTMOST RIPPLES HAVE GOLD VEINS RUNNING THROUGH THEM. THE VOID IMPLICATIONS...

And this might be a stretch but the palette of this final image is black and gold... void colors...

OKAY THATS MOST OF THE TRAILER

ONTO THE STEAM DESCRIPTION:

Rain World: The Watcher is a DLC expansion of Rain World. Journey beyond to something, somewhere only ever glimpsed. When the world beneath your feet cracks and crumbles, will you hold on to all you once knew? Or dive into the unknown? The wilds that await will be unlike all that's come before. Unknown creatures stalk and climb and dive and hunt. New breeds rip and pluck and burrow and hide. Predator and prey redefined. And through the middle of it all, a lonely lost slugcat trying their best to outlast the ravages of a warped world.

Do... do I even have to say anything?

THE VOID IMPLICATIONS!! HOLY MOTHER OF SCUGS THE *VOID IMPLICATIONS!!!!*

"Journey beyond to something, somewhere only ever glimpsed. When the world beneath your feet cracks and crumbles, will you hold on to all you once knew? Or dive into the unknown?" YOU READ THIS AND TELL ME THIS DOESN'T HAVE VOID SEA VIBES. Journey BEYOND to something, somewhere only ever glimpsed... it feels very void-y to me. And the talk about the world beneath you crumbling-- holding on to what you once knew or diving into the unknown?? If this somehow ISN'T related to ascension I would be shocked

"And through the middle of it all, a lonely lost slugcat trying their best to outlast the ravages of a warped world." This line about the world being warped, as well... I'm thinking this DLC might either have to do with Rubicon, or have to do with the encroach of the void sea consuming the world from below.

Other then the void implications, it sounds like we'll be seeing some new creatures that could completely redefine the game. I'm excited to see where that goes.

OKAY. SCREENSHOTS. LETS GO.

I know these are from pre-existing mods, but I'm completely unfamiliar with said mods and don't know if any of this means anything. Just wild speculation, pretty much.

Gonna start with these two because they're kinda visually similar. On the left we have desert!!!! Cacti!! Cactuses!!!!! I've seen lots of people calling the image on the right snow, but that doesnt feel right to me. We saw snow in Saint and I do not remember it looking like... that. The first thing that comes to mind for me is Kingdom's Edge from Hollow Knight, and the drifts of ash that pile up there? If this is the case then it confirms several of my lore theories and I would so love that to be the case. There's also a collapsed structure in the back of the "snowy" image, which looks to me a bit like a train car?

Also I've now seen several people calling these milk... and I can't unsee it now...

I've been told by several sources that these screens are from preexisting mods! I think these are from Stormy Coast, Coral Caves, and Aether Ridge? At least that's what I've picked up from searching through other discussions. I don't have too much to comment on here! I think these rooms are cool, and I really like the fans in the Aether Ridge room!

...oh no... acid region..? I don't know why, but this room gives me Shoreline vibes. Also I do not think bubble fruit are supposed to grow that perfectly--

And finally... what I think has the possibility of either being a huge lore thing, or a complete false alarm. Well for starters it's purple

But there are no iterator cans in the background. We're above the clouds here; in every above-the-clouds show from the base game and Downpour, you can see iterators and communication towers off in the distance. There's nothing here. And I don't think this takes place near or after Saint, because there's no confirmed snow. And I think a lot of these structures would be far worse for wear if this were so far in the future that the planet has warmed again. So. Uh. That's pretty odd.

Again, these all might be from mods that I am unfamiliar with, so please correct me if I'm misinterpreting anything!!

AND THAT CONCLUDES MY ANALYSIS FOR NOW!

tl,dr-- This DLC is gonna be crazy. Also void

[chapinii]

Pac sees Fit come online. He's missed him these past few weeks, taking care of Ramon as he said he would and waiting for Fit to wake up from the sleep he mentioned in his letter. It was a relief to see. The American's absence had been an expected one- the anxiety had lingered Pac's his chest long after Fit had said his goodbyes to him. It had been a farewell that felt so final, but seeing the letter crudely taped to his wall had quelled that pessimism for the meantime.

He's re-read it over and over, the same lines:

'The next time I see you I have a lot of things I want to say'.

There's a spark of excitement in his chest. Baby steps, Fit had said. This was big. Throughout their relationship he'd always let Fit make the first move. He'd seen his nerves blossom into pride, those tentative steps turning into confident strides. Pac had three words - two, in Portuguese - he'd been keeping close to his heart, waiting for Fit to say them first. Perhaps now was the time.

Warping directly to Fit's place, he startles the bald man in a cloud of purple particles. He laughs, shocked, his chuckle a familiar warmth to Pac, but there's an edge of something off to his voice. Pac catches his eye with a cheeky grin plastered on his face, and Fit instinctively looks away, clearing his throat. He expects a hug, even some goofy jumping jacks from his boyfriend, but Fit stands there sheepishly, his body swaying slightly as he leans on the wall of the Shitshack.

"Fitch! It's so great to see you back!" Pac settles for an awkward wave. Fit smiles, his gaze still not meeting Pac's eyes, and mumbles something about a big sleep, his hand nervously rubbing the nape of his neck. Curious. Pac takes a step closer and tries to ignore the way Fit seems to stiffen as he does.

"I read your letter, thank you by the way! It was really really uh, how you would say, thoughtful!"

A smile in response, but Fit seems wistful. Pac still can't figure out the look in his eyes.

"You said you uh... You had something to tell me? Huh big boy?" Pac feigns a playful punch to the air in his direction - something tells him he shouldn't touch him right now - and Fit finally meets his eyes. There's a weary longing to them, a weird sadness that even in the bright sun, dulls his hazel irises.

Perhaps he'd just missed him more than Pac thought.

Fit took a step back and let out a sigh.

"Ah Pac, I um, I don't know about that. It seemed important at the time but... It's nothing."

Oh.

And Pac was overthinking again.