#why. why does this happen to me. why can’t they fuck up somebody else’s design for once??

[jellicle-chants]

just saw the new rumpleteazer makeup for the asia tour. nobody talk to me nobody come near me i need time to process—

[canary3d-obsessed]

Restless Rewatch: The Untamed, Episode 25 part two

(Masterpost) (Other Canary Stuff)

Warning! Spoilers for All 50 Episodes!

Jin Jerks Continued

Jin Furen is all judgy about Wei Wuxian, so it's hard to like her, since WWX is our protagonist and whatnot. But! Jin Furen is actually totally awesome. She adores Jiang Yanli and takes sides with her against her own son. She knows he likes Yanli and works her ass off to do all the courting for him, since he sucks at it, rather than picking a random wife for him and sticking him with her choice. She's always gentle with Yanli in her tone and body language. And Jin Zixuan had to get his good side from somebody.

Wei Wuxian politely tells Jin Furen that it's all over (again/still) between Jiang Yanli and Jin Zixuan, and cousin Jin Zixun rushes up to argue with him, saying he's being too proud and that he shouldn't talk to Jin Furen that way, since she is his senior. Wei Wuxian, still politely, explains the clan politics that underlie every one of these Zixuan-Yanli interactions. As a matter of clan pride, the Jiang Clan can't allow Yanli to be insulted.

Cousin Jin Zixun immediately goes all in on the clan rivalry, beefing with Wei Wuxian about how much prey he caught. Everybody forgets all about Yanli's situation while they talk about the hunt results instead.

The Jin cultivators--parroting what they heard from Jin Guangyao--say that Wei Wuxian has flute-walked 30 percent of the prey into nets by himself. Lan Wangji actually decides to react to something, saying "30 percent? and giving Wei Wuxian such a series of LOOKS, oh my god. 

This Wangxian moment is an important one, I think, because it shows where Lan Wangji's priorities are, and they're...wrong. He's continually telling Wei Wuxian "be good," in one way or another; trying to help him back to the correct way of being a cultivator.  Meanwhile the Lans are totally fine with the Jins being murderous shits who feel entitled to insult high-ranking ladies.

CJZX continues to snipe at Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji continues to judge WWX for being unsportsmanlike.

(more after the cut!)

Wei Wuxian says that he's just showing his capability, and CJZX tries to tell him both that 1. he's practicing evil cultivation and 2. he's just playing the flute. WWX offers him Chenqing and says "show me your capability" which I think is cultivator speak for "fight me, bitch." 

Cousin Jin Zixun moves the goalposts, saying that Wei Wuxian broke the rules, and starts in with class-based dogwhistling, saying "it's understandable that you don't know the rules," and citing examples of Wei Wuxian’s previous bad manners at cultivation events. 

Things escalate and pretty soon Wei Wuxian is yelling at everybody, threatening to tell them why he doesn't carry his sword, (which would actually clear up SO much) and saying he's going to beat them all using necromancy whatever is just this side of necromancy. 

Cousin Jin Zixun tosses his birth status at him, and then it's ON. Scary music, shaking fist, Chenqing booting up...

Lan Wangji, who has been singularly unhelpful since CJZX started talking, suddenly forgets his judginess as he's swept into motion by his constant fear of whatever is going to happen next time Wei Wuxian loses his temper. 

He rushes to Wei Wuxian’s side, grabs his wrist, says his name, and wills him to chill the fuck out. Jiang Yanli joins him, grabbing Wei Wuxian's other arm, and Wei Wuxian manages to get control of himself.

Queen Yanli

Yanli has had it, and she has Wei Wuxian stand behind her while she goes to politely reduce Cousin Jin Zixun to a heap of smoldering cinders.

First she recaps CJZX's accusations against Wei Wuxian; says she doesn't know a lot about the hunt, and apologizes formally on her brother’s behalf. WWX says "Shijie!" but she shakes her head at him and he shuts up.  

CJZX laughs and tells her, in a tone designed to infuriate Wei Wuxian even further, that Wei Wuxian doesn’t rate her apologizing on his behalf, and says that their clans are like family; reinforcing WWX's outsider status. I don't think CJZX is taking orders from Jin Guangyao, because he's way too big of a snob for that, but he's definitely helping JGY to move his agenda forward.

Even Lan Wangji is having trouble staying cool during this exchange; he is focused on keeping Wei Wuxian in check but he’s also angry himself, judging from what his neck is doing here, anyway. *Stares at his neck for way too long*

Wei Wuxian is super upset about Jiang Yanli apologizing, and he’s unable to hold back tears, even with Lan Wangji using the power of extreme staring to help him. 

Jiang Yangli is nowhere near finished, though and she turns around and proceeds to tell everyone that they suck, that it's not Wei Wuxian's fault if he's more talented than everybody else, and that they are just making up rules because they are a bunch of losers. 

Clan Leader Yao has the nerve to say that they know the rules "in their hearts" which is just another class-based dogwhistle. 

Yanli defends Wei Wuxian's cultivation method to everybody, saying it's something he worked at and put effort into--that it's different, not wrong. She's literally the only person who defends his cultivation style, even though they all have benefited from it.

Then she gets right up in Cousin Jin Zixun's face and tells him that it's not ok for him to insult WWX by calling him the son of a servant, and she wants CJZX to apologize. (full gifset here) All of the Jins and Captain Blowhard Clan Leader Yao are SHOCKED at this idea. Jin Furen tries to talk Yanli down but Yanli politely nopes her away, so JFR tells CJZX to apologize.

He's saved from having to actually do it by the arrival of Jin Guangyao and Lan Xichen, who jump down off a box fly over to find out what's wrong.

Jin Furen yells at smiley, blinkey Jin Guangyao, telling him he should be able to figure out what's wrong, saying "aren't you good at judging the situation," i.e. aren't you a conniving little creep? She's bitchy but she's not wrong.

When the "30 percent" thing is explained again, Lan Xichen gives Wei Wuxian the same Lan Glare of Sportsmanship Disappointment that his brother did. 

Lan Xichen: It's fine for my boyfriend's obviously power-hungry family to insult my brother's war-hero best friend in a bid to reduce his social status, but him using magic powers in our magical creature hunt is super wrong.  

Jin Guangyao and Lan Xichen explain that they're going to open up more area for the hunt, but it's too late to make Cousin Jin Zixun happy. He takes his ball and goes home. 

The Breaking of the Fellowship

The remaining group stroll slowly through the woods, Jin Furen and Jiang Yanli together, while Wei Wuxian walks at a bit of a distance and Jin Zixuan follows right behind his mother. His mother offers to beat him to make Jiang Yanli feel better. See? Perfect Mother-in-Law material.

Jiang Yanli tries to leave again, and is stopped again. This time Jin Furen tries to convince her to come back to the stands to sit with her and Jin Zixuan, and not to go with Wei Wuxian. First she tries saying that it's not appropriate for her and Wei Wuxian to be alone together. Yanli shuts that right down, saying that Wei Wuxian is her didi. Then Jin Furen says that Wei Wuxian has "strong wicked energy" and that he may do something evil. Like fighting back when he is ambushed on his way to a party.

Jiang Yanli repeats that Wei Wuxian is her didi, and says that she'll never leave him. JFR keeps trying but Wei Wuxian steps up and takes Yanli by the wrist and goes to lead her away. Jin Zixuan finally, FINALLY admits that he likes Jiang Yanli. 

He is embarrassed, Jiang Yanli is delighted, and Lan Xichen is amused. 

Jin Zixuan runs away and Jiang Yanli agrees to go back to Jinlintai with Jin Furen. Wei Wuxian is super immature unhappy about it....

....but he accepts her decision, in a nearly wordless exchange that we’ll see echoes of much later, between him and Lan Wangji. (Exceptionally cruel gifset here)

Wei Wuxian formally bows to Jin Furen, asking her to take care of his sister. Because he recognizes this for the parting that it is.

Jiang Yanli isn't wrong to make this choice. She deserves to be happy, and married women in this environment can't live with their original family. But she told Wei Wuxian, over and over, that the three of them have to stick together, only to change course and leave him behind with no warning. It’s not even five minutes since she said "I will never leave him."  Wei Wuxian isn’t the only person making impossible promises in these parts.  

Jiang Cheng and some Jiang cultivators show up, and everyone, including Wei Wuxian, tells Jiang Cheng that he missed an important scene, but nobody will tell him what actually happened. 

Wei Wuxian says he's going into town, and he leaves Jiang Cheng behind just as abruptly as Jiang Yanli left him.

Jiang Cheng asks Lan Xichen what happened, and Lan Xichen says "there was an argument but it's mostly smoothed over now; also, Jin Zixuan says he likes your sister."  Ha ha ha ha! Of course he does not say that, he says "You should ask your sister at the banquet" and Jin Guangyao says it wouldn't be appropriate for them, as outsiders, to comment.

I would like to see Jiang Cheng respond to this by beating the crap out of them with Zidian for being a couple of coy bitches, but he just furrows his brow. 

JGY hangs back from the group for a second to tell JC that WWX is sooooo great, before they all head back to Jinlintai.

Insecurest Boi

As everyone is walking Jiang Cheng hears Captain Blowhard saying that Lotus Pier made a strong impression today, and that they'll be able to recruit a whole lot of disciples. The cultivators are of two opinions about whether having Wei Wuxian is a good thing for a clan. 

Then a Jin cultivator says he heard that the Yin tiger amulet is made of the missing piece of Yin iron. He says he overheard it from Jin Guangyao. He says even if it's not for certain, the timing fits. Jiang Cheng reacts to this as if he 100% believes it, because Jiang Cheng is a dumbass sometimes. 

He should just frickin’ ask Wei Wuxian about the amulet. Lan Wangji asked where he got it and Wei Wuxian told him, and Jiang Cheng, while they have their issues, is officially on WWX's side, so there’s no reason for WWX not to tell him.

The Jin cultivator goes on to say that the Jiang Clan ain't shit, that all their deeds belong to Wei Wuxian.  Jiang Cheng takes all of this on board totally unfiltered. Literally everything that any Jin cultivator other than MianMian says is propaganda coming from Jin Guangyao, but Jiang Cheng thinks they're friends and doesn't know how to recognize manipulation. 

Jiang Cheng is hearing the exact same criticism that Jiang Yanli heard, but he's not equipped to handle it, and instead of fighting back he gets angry at Wei Wuxian. Despite all his recent growth, he is still crushingly insecure, and this is hitting him right in his tenderest spot. Jiang Fengmian has a lot to answer for.

Instant Replacement Sister

Wei Wuxian is off working through his own feelings; he's wandering the street in Lanling with a bottle of wine in hand. Wen Qing, in her red Wen robe and her hooded cloak, is wandering the street in the opposite direction. They pass each other without seeing, in a moment that's excruciating to watch the first time. 

But then some Jin cultivators obligingly push her to the ground, and Wei Wuxian, with his beautiful heart of fucking gold, hears someone who needs help and turns around.

For a moment he smiles in recognition, before the smile clouds over. Wen Qing, for her part, looks horrified; perhaps it’s everything she’s going through, but perhaps she can see that he, in his own way, is struggling nearly as much as she is. Meeting with her will galvanize him and give him the life direction he desperately needs.

A Day Late and a Tael Short

Lan Wangji wants to solve Wei Wuxian's problem, but he lacks imagination, so his best idea is to hide him in Cloud Recesses. 

Lan Xichen points out that Wei Wuxian might not be on board with that. This conversation is short, but it has some layers, once you know about their parents' relationship. Lan Wangji frowns but doesn't have a second idea.

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

Could you talk about the Statute of Secrecy? Or the Ministry’s corruption in General :)

Well, those are two different things. Given that I believe I have an ask floating somewhere in my inbox on the Statute, I suppose we’ll talk about the Ministry of Magic today.

I feel like this is such a broad topic though that I’m not quite sure where to start. I guess I’ll just throw spaghetti at the internet wall and see what sticks.

The Ministry is a Reflection of Society Who Never Admitted They Were the Death Eaters

In the ministry of Harry Potter’s era the Ministry is hopelessly corrupt and filled to the brim with spies (more on this in a later section). Lucius Malfoy, very high up in an unofficial capacity in the Ministry and owner of the Ministry’s mouth piece: The Daily Prophet, was a known Death Eater with a very flimsy excuse.

How is he even able to wield so much influence, you ask? Well, I think it’s not just because of Fudge picking the wrong friends.

I think most the population probably does believe Lucius Malfoy is innocent the way Fudge does. I think it’s a very small subsection, i.e. Dumbledore’s lackies, who go “Nah, ain’t buying it.” I think that, in 1981, when it came time to reveal just how many were Death Eaters and how far this went many people just couldn’t handle it.

Because it was to the point where the nation wasn’t battling Death Eaters, Death Eaters were the nation. Look at the members, these are and were the most influential and prominent families in the country, who combined hold a non-small minority of seats in the Wizengamot. More, these were only the participants, combine those who given anti-muggle and muggleborn sentiment (which I believe are pervasive even among those who claim they fight for the rights of muggles and muggleborns) and you get a nation that is suddenly facing a huge cultural issue that was never previously acknowledged.

We’re talking an entire purge of the Wizengamot, of the Ministry, of the major families and cornerstones of this society. The Black family is completely and utterly destroyed.

People were and remain throughout the 1990′s, desperate to believe it was not as bad as it was or isn’t as bad as it is. If Lucius Malfoy says he was never really a Death Eater then he was never really a Death Eater.

The Ministry is Lousy With Corruption and Spies

What’s hilarious to me is not only is the Ministry incompetent. It is positively flooded with spies. Given the ministry’s overbloated, it’s not even a sizeable minority of employees, but nonetheless every major department has at least one person (if not more) who works for somebody else.

Most work for Tom Riddle. He seems to have intelligence in every department. Through Lucius, who is working pretty much as an unofficial aide to Fudge, he has access to Fudge, complete control of the Daily Prophet, and a voice on the Hogwarts’ board of governors.

Through Rockwood, Tom has direct access to the Department of Mysteries which Lucius is then able to take full advantage of.

Lucius is able to set up an ambush in the Department of Mysteries, getting escaped convicts into the building with the none the wiser, and, had his sole purpose not been a prophecy that only Harry Potter and the Dark Lord can touch, he would have been able to take what he liked. (Though it was always odd to me that the plan was to get Harry Potter to do it, when the better solution would have been to polyjuice Tom Riddle into someone else, set up a tour with the department, and then Tom wanders off conveniently to pick up the prophecy. My theory, I suppose, is that chasing after the prophecy was mostly an exercise in punishing Lucius. And then Lucius fucked up.)

And of course, in book seven, Tom Riddle makes a puppet minister. Point being, to me, it always said a lot that in Book Seven Tom just sort of walks into the building and says, “I’m in charge now” and everyone says “okay”. There was no second Wizarding War, it was a bloodless coup that met zero resistance from anyone but angry school children. 

But that’s Tom’s spies, we also have other spies. Who am I talking about, Dumbledore’s folks of course.

Shacklebolt, Moody, Tonks, and Arthur Weasley are all spies, they just don’t have the introspection to even realize it (which really tells you something about the state of corruption in the ministry). They all work for the ministry, yes, but they in fact pass on information to and serve another master, whose goals do not always align with the government and was a hop skip and a jump away from overthrowing the government at any given moment.

And they don’t even really realize they’re doing this! There doesn’t even seem to be a thought of “I’m doing this for the greater good”, they don’t seem to acknowledge that what they’re doing is very very very bad. Arthur, in fact, is appalled when Percy refuses to do this (well, he’s upset for a lot of reasons, such as that he thinks Percy is spying on Arthur for the minister, but in there is also that Percy refuses to help out with the Order or follow Dumbledore without question). 

Harry paints the Dumbledore’s Army threat that Umbridge saw as something utterly ridiculous, but honestly if I was the ministry I would be worried about this. Dumbledore’s people have infiltrated the ministry just as deeply and badly as the Death Eaters, Dumbledore’s known for recruiting children into his vigilante organization, I don’t know what he’s doing with an army of schoolchildren but I can smell a coup coming.

Anyway, I’m getting off track, point being though that corruption is not only expected and accepted by the ministry, they cannot recognize what it even is. They’re at the point where paying bribes is allocated in their budget.

I Don’t Blame the Ministry For Not Thinking Tom Riddle Was Anti-Jesus

Fudge is designed to get a lot of flack for his outright denial that Voldemort had returned from the dead. He, and other denier characters, are meant to be fools with their heads in the sand who can’t see the obvious.

I ask what about it was obvious?

The only witness to Tom Riddle’s resurrection, Harry Potter, has a known history of erratic behavior.

The previous year, he’d performed illegal magic on his muggle aunt and run away from home. During the previous school year, Harry was revealed to be a parselmouth in a time when the Chamber of Secrets was presumably opened and the mystery was never fully solved (remember, that it was a possessed Ginny never comes to light for more than a few people.) Beyond that, since his first day of school, Harry is routinely in and out of detention, constantly out after curfew, and only seems to not be in serious trouble because he’s openly favored by Dumbledore (who gives him hundreds of points for breaking one of his school rules, during the Philosopher’s Stone fiasco in first year). In 1994, Harry is entered into the Tri-Wizard Tournament under very suspicious circumstances.

We know why all this happens to Harry but from the outside he looks like a delinquent. In fact, he kind of is a delinquent. 

Point being, the only witness is not only Harry Potter (who is already sketch) but it’s Harry Potter holding a dead body of a rival in the tournament.

And he’s claiming that a man who has been nearly fifteen years dead, a man who held the nation in terror and Harry Potter is beloved for destroying, has returned from the grave and conveniently murdered Cedric.

Why is Cedric dead? Well, you see, he and Harry both touched the goblet at the same time because they were going to share the reward. The goblet, a national treasure, was turned into a portkey so that Voldemort could kidnap him.

Why didn’t Voldemort just kidnap him at any other point during the year where he’s guaranteed not to get tag a longs or the wrong kid? Uh... VOLDEMORT IS BACK (for the record, I think it’s because Barty got hung up on the goblet scheme and was determined to ruin his father’s day.)

Where is Voldemort at this very moment? Being evil, somewhere, that is not right here. No, Harry has zero evidence this happened.

Frankly, I wouldn’t believe Harry either.

And when Dumbledore goes about promoting this as sound evidence that Tom Riddle has in fact returned, it starts to get even sketchier. Rather than sounding the alarm, Dumbledore is using this boy’s madness to stir the public into a panic that he, perhaps, plans to take advantage of.

After Dumbledore does that, I would suspect that, even if Harry does give me a memory of the graveyard scene that his head had been tampered with by Dumbledore.

And it’s so convenient that, of all the names Harry picked, it’s Voldemort who killed Cedric. It seems like a ploy to not only deflect the fact that he murdered Cedric but 

Harry’s very upset when some don’t take him at his word but Harry’s also a dumbass and a psychopath. He hates everyone who doesn’t agree with him.

More importantly, necromancy isn’t a thing in the Harry Potter universe. People don’t rise from the dead. Horcruxes exist, but they’re extremely rare, and it seems like no one ever really makes use of them.

So, yeah, not unreasonable that Fudge didn’t immediately go, “My god, Voldemort has risen from the dead! LIGHT THE BEACONS AND SUMMON ROHAN!”

So yeah, it’d take me seeing Voldemort waltzing through the Department Mysteries to go “... Goddammit, this man is more unkillable than Sheev Palpatine.”

After the Epilogue, I am Certain It’s Still the Same Damn Ministry

People hate the epilogue, but in a way, I love it, because it confirms many of my headcanons: these people don’t learn a goddamn thing.

Nothing in their society seems to have changed. Instead of one set of families holding all the power it’s now a new set of families and friends holding all the power. The difference being that they are now all in some way connected to Harry Potter.

Nepotism’s still the name of the game, we still see only human children boarding the Hogwarts Express so you know shit hasn’t changed for the goblins, Draco Malfoy’s alive and well and holds a position in the Ministry that Kingsly graciously allows him to have, it’s just now you have Hermione writing all your laws for you.

The Wizarding World is still the Wizarding World in every single capacity. The only difference is that Voldemort is dead again. Hooray.

Harry and friends simply don’t have the introspection to even realize it.

[zintranslations]

Kaleidoscope of Death, Ch. 110

Kaleidoscope of Death by Xi Zixu Link to Chinese / Novel Updates

Chapter 110: Open This

Though the Hako Onna's position could change, the position of the items inside the chests could not. In other words, if somebody had already opened a chest and seen what was in it, then the next person did not have to waste a chance on the previously opened chest.

Opening the chests was dangerous, but there was potential profit in the danger. If they could find an item that could kill the Hako Onna or give her rest, or if it was the strongbox passcode or something like that, then the humans would gain the advantage.

After his speech, Sun Yuanzhou swept his gaze through the crowd, voice terrifyingly cold: "I know what you're all thinking. You want to pick up other people's leftovers, right? Zhu Meng, you've played the game before. Tell them, can Hako Onna enter chests that have already been opened?"

"Of course she can," Ruan Nanzhu answered evenly. "The chests close after opening, so Hako Onna can definitely move inside. For those who want to avoid danger, I recommend you don't try to play for leftovers. It’s better to starve."

"Hear that?" Sun Yuanzhou said. "Intel. That's what's most important right now—intel. Open boxes in groups of at least two. This way, if anything happens, there's someone to take the record."

Frankly put, this was so that should anyone open up a Hakobito or the Hako Onna, they wouldn't disappear without anyone knowing.

"That's right, didn't Xiao Ji open up a power called False Answers yesterday?" Ruan Nanzhu told everybody what they'd discovered earlier in order to prevent anybody else from getting tricked. "In the tabletop, this power meant that the player acting as Hako Onna could lie. But here, the power's changed accordingly—Hako Onna can hide in chests and sound like people you know. So if you hear any sounds, don't think that someone you know has been caught."

Sun Yuanzhou nodded his own understanding, and looked at the group.

"Any other questions?"

The people seated around the table began to whisper among themselves, discussing the information Ruan Nanzhu gave them and Sun Yuanzhou's suggestions.

"We're also not going to make you open any chests. If you think you can bear the hunger, then go on, starve." Sun Yuanzhou added one last option: "You can also wait until you're so hungry that you can't take it any longer, and open a chest then."

"I have a question." A young woman from the group stood up. Lin Qiushi remembered her name was Xuan Zihui. She pointed a finger at Ruan Nanzhu. "She's the one who's been telling us all this information. If she's lying to us, we have no way of knowing."

When he heard this, Sun Yuanzhou started to say something. But Ruan Nanzhu laughed, raising his chin and speaking with derision: "If you'd like, you don't have to believe me at all. I don't mind."

Sun Yuanzhou, "exactly." He was clearly taking Ruan Nanzhu's side against Xuan Zihui's suspicions. "If you can provide any other intel, nobody would mind."

Xuan Zihui wanted to add something else, but was stopped by a tug from someone beside her, indicating she should stop.

"If we were in another door, I might have something to gain from lying to you. But in this door, there's no profit to speak of from lying." Ruan Nanzhu wasn't even looking at Xuan Zihui, evidently disdainful of her doubts. "Increase the number of Hakobito, and you think I'll have an easier time beating this game?"

"The nature of this door is a bit special. We can set all of that aside for now. I think it's best we focus on the matter of opening the chests," someone spoke up as peacemaker.

Sun Yuanzhou fished out sticky notes from his bag and distributed them among those gathered. He warned everybody that if anyone managed to open up an item or one of Hako Onna's powers, then they had to talk. There could be no hiding.

People took the sticky notes with a rich range of expressions. Everybody clearly was taking their own measure of the situation.

After that everybody made a pact to exchange information every day at noon. They would trade discoveries from the day before and also check on the number of survivors.

When the meeting concluded, the group scattered.

"Do you think they'll open up any chests?" Lin Qiushi began discussing with Ruan Nanzhu. They had him to listen to chests. Compared to everybody else, they had a much wider margin of safety.

"No," Ruan Nanzhu said. "They're all sly old foxes keen on surviving. Nobody will open a chest today at least."

"Then we have to wait until morning?" Lin Qiushi understood Ruan Nanzhu's meaning. "Breakfast, right?"

Ruan Nanzhu smiled.

"Yeah. Though that's only one meal a day, you don't have to starve if you've got the one meal."

"Honestly, upon careful thought, this is not a bad method," Liang Miye sighed. She was talking about the door's restriction. After all, if it didn't force them to open up the chests, then these people could definitely hole up in this mansion for months.

She mumbled, "who doesn't want to get out as soon as possible though…"

That night, many people lost sleep. Perhaps it was due to hunger. Perhaps it was terror.

Lin Qiushi didn't manage to sleep well either. For most of the night, he stayed halfway in and out of dreams. Amidst the drowsiness, he suddenly felt Ruan Nanzhu climb into his bed.

"Nanzhu…" Lin Qiushi mumbled. "What is it?"

Ruan Nanzhu got up close to Lin Qiushi's ear and whispered, "Linlin, are you hungry at all?"

Lin Qiushi, "a bit…"

Who wouldn't be hungry after not eating all day? He was only hungry, however, not so starved that he couldn't stand it.

But he didn't expect that after he said this, Ruan Nanzhu would fish something out of his own pajama pocket. Lin Qiushi looked down and saw that it was a piece of chocolate.

"Half for you and half for me." Pinching the chocolate between his fingers, Ruan Nanzhu lightly snapped it apart. "It'll be our secret."

The corners of his eyes curved up, and Lin Qiushi thought his smile was very lovely.

"How much did you bring?" Lin Qiushi asked.

"Not much…" Ruan Nanzhu answered. He tore the wrapper off and brought the chocolate to Lin Qiushi's lips. "Go ahead, eat."

Before Lin Qiushi could say anything, he felt the chocolate push into his mouth. On reflex he gave Ruan Nanzhu's fingers a lick, and saw Ruan Nanzhu's pupils darken.

Ruan Nanzhu, "is it sweet?"

Lin Qiushi nodded.

Ruan Nanzhu got closer and lapped at his lips.

"It is sweet."

He didn't eat the other piece, but wrapped it back up and stuffed it into his pocket.

"How come you're not eating?" Lin Qiushi asked.

"I'm not hungry," Ruan Nanzhu said. "Sleep. We have to wake up early tomorrow."

Lin Qiushi watched Ruan Nanzhu's eyes. However impressive he was, Ruan Nanzhu was still just a regular human; he also got hungry if he didn't eat.

Lin Qiushi still wanted to talk, but Ruan Nanzhu was already squirming into his arms, kissing him once on the chin and whispering, "shh, stop talking, you'll wake Miye. Go to sleep already."

Seeing Ruan Nanzhu's adamant attitude, Lin Qiushi could only give in. He reached out and wrapped his arms tightly around Ruan Nanzhu.

The Ruan Nanzhu inside this door wasn't small or frail—he was just a few degrees livelier compared to outside. At least, Lin Qiushi thought, if they were outside, he wouldn't dare to fantasize about wrapping Ruan Nanzhu up in his arms to tenderly cherish...

The first thing next morning, Liang Miye stared at the hugging clump of people on the bed, eyes bugging out.

"Good morning," Ruan Nanzhu greeted her easily upon waking.

Liang Miye said, "you two…"

Just as she wanted to ask why they were sharing a bed, she saw Ruan Nanzhu press a kiss to Lin Qiushi's cheek, calling, "Linlin, time to wake up."

Lin Qiushi mumbled drowsily, "good morning."

Liang Miye, "…" Oh fuck, she seemed to have learned something she shouldn't have known. The leader of Obsidian was dating one of his own members?! Wasn't that a bit too similar to her own boss?!

Neither Lin Qiushi nor Ruan Nanzhu reacted to Liang Miye's shock, washing up in tranquil peace and heading to the dining room.

Once in the dining room, they saw the atmosphere among the crowd and knew their guess last night was correct. Of course the door wasn't going to be merciful and grant them a loophole—if they didn't open any chests, they couldn't have breakfast either.

Only Xiao Ji, who'd opened up a chest yesterday, was happily stuffing his mouth with hotcakes. People watched from around him, eyes red with jealousy.

"Heheh. No use looking at me like that. If you want to eat just open up some chests."

Lin Qiushi's group found chairs to sit in and waited for others to show. After a while, Sun Yuanzhou's group arrived late. They sat down, gave everyone a smile, and began picking up and eating the food on the table—these people had also opened some chests.

"You guys opened the chests?" Xuan Zihui, who'd voiced suspicions about Ruan Nanzhu yesterday, hurried to ask. "What did you find?"

"You could say we were lucky, but you could also say we weren't." Sun Yuanzhou only spoke after swallowing a mouthful of porridge. "Two empty boxes, one power for Hako Onna."

"We opened up another power!" The crowd was slightly despairing. "What did you open??"

Sun Yuanzhou put the power card on the table. Lin Qiushi was closest, and read the text in a moment: Open This.

"What does that mean??" Everybody looked toward the only one who knew the rules—Ruan Nanzhu.

"It's a troublesome power," Ruan Nanzhu sighed. "The Hako Onna can force a player to open a designated chest…"

The group sank immediately into silence.

"Meaning what? Meaning she can choose somebody to die?" The one speaking was a newbie who looked on the verge of breakdown. "Is that what that means?"

"Yes." Ruan Nanzhu's answer was light.

"But this is also our chance." Seeing looks of despair surface on everybody's faces, Ruan Nanzhu continued in a warmer tone. "The Hako Onna and Hakobito can actually be killed. It just takes one of the special items. And, the way to kill them is to use the item on the chest before opening it. These items are hidden inside the chests, so if you can open one up, you can render this power null."

Nobody replied, because everybody knew in their hearts that things wouldn't be so easy.

With two hundred chests, who know where those items were hidden?

A hopeless aura enveloped the crowd. Around the dining table, the sound of crying once again started.

Sun Yuanzhou clearly had no good feelings to spare the sobbing, breathless newbies. As soon as he finished eating he got up and left with his companions.

Ruan Nanzhu and Lin Qiushi didn't dally around the dining table either—it wasn't like they could eat at any rate.

"Let's go see about the chests in the study first," Ruan Nanzhu suggested after leaving the dining room.

"Okay," Lin Qiushi nodded.

They got to the study, and Lin Qiushi selected two random chests. After bending down and listening closely to confirm no sounds were coming from inside, he took a deep breath and decided to be the first to open one.

"Let me try first," Lin Qiushi said. He actually wasn't all that confident. With another deep breath, he clasped the top of the chest and lifted with force—empty. There was nothing in the chest at all. As he exhaled in relief, Lin Qiushi also felt a sense of disappointment.

He hadn't been able to open up a useful item.

"You take the next chest," Ruan Nanzhu said, looking toward Liang Miye who stood off at the side, not saying much.

"Me?" Lin Qiushi was a bit shocked. She was already mentally prepared to go hungry for two days—it was Lin Qiushi's power, after all. Two days wasn't much anyways, it wouldn't kill her. But she hadn't thought that Ruan Nanzhu would give her this opportunity.

"Mh," Ruan Nanzhu nodded.

Liang Miye had wanted to refuse, but then saw determined Ruan Nanzhu was.

"It's only two days," he said. "It's not a big deal."

Liang Miye, "alright… But you don't have to starve either. I brought in some food of my own. Though it's not much, it'll do to curb the hunger."

Ruan Nanzhu shot her a smile.

"Okay then."

Liang Miye chose a chest. Lin Qiushi gave it a listen, then nodded, indicating she could open it. Like Lin Qiushi, she held her breath when she got ready and opened the chest with careful motions. There was something inside her chest—a card with a number 3 on it.

"It's the passcode to the safe!" Lin Qiushi exclaimed.

"Not so bad," Liang Miye grinned, slipping the card into her pocket.

Ruan Nanzhu, however, didn't smile. In fact, he sighed.

"What's the sigh for?" Lin Qiushi asked him.

"Opening the safe is the most troublesome way of getting out of here," Ruan Nanzhu told him.

"Why do you say that?" Liang Miye asked.

"Because the passcode might not be in a single person's possession. So when it comes time to leave, who does the hint go to?" Ruan Nanzhu said. "But it's too early to think about that now. We'll talk later."

As the three kept discussing matters, they heard, coming from the dining room downstairs, a young girl's wailing cry. This cry was piercing and anguished—it belonged to the Hako Onna.

When they heard this sound, all three of their expressions changed for the worse.

In the tabletop, Hako Onna couldn't use a power immediately after a player opens one up. She must first cry to make the power truly belong to her. Though Hako Onna's cry exposed her location, it told all the players at the same time that she had gained one more power.

"I've got such a bad feeling about this," Liang Miye said.

Neither Lin Qiushi nor Ruan Nanzhu spoke.

The entire mansion was sunk in an air of despondency. Lin Qiushi came down from the second floor and saw pale-faced newbies sitting in the living room. They seemed to have given up on any hope of surviving, sitting there utterly still like wooden figures.

These were all people that Wei Xiude had brought inside, but Wei Xiude was currently nowhere to be seen. Clearly, after these people became a hindrance, he'd given up on them.

Lin Qiushi thought that this guy really ought to change his name, from Wei "Meritorious" Xiude to Meritless. It would be more fitting.

When it came lunchtime, only half of the group of twenty could move their chopsticks. The rest either didn't come to the dining room at all or they sat there staring.

Sun Yuanzhou was a bit shocked that Ruan Nanzhu also wasn't eating. He asked, "you didn't open one either?"

"I was scared," Ruan Nanzhu pouted, all soft and weak as he leaned against Lin Qiushi's shoulder. His long lashes trembled, and his expression was pitiful. "What if I open it and something weird comes out?"

Sun Yuanzhou said, "but you can't keep not eating."

It seemed that he liked Ruan Nanzhu enough to care about him this much.

Ruan Nanzhu didn't reply.

There really was a good amount of people not eating, even a few veterans. Thanks to Xiao Ji, Wei Xiude managed to eat his fill. His look of contentment did not put others in a good mood.

After eating, the group traded some information. No one had yet opened up any particularly useful items. Only one person found a can of gasoline.

Ruan Nanzhu explained the gasoline's use. It can restrict the Hako Onna's movement once or kill a Hakobito, but the condition to use it was that you had to be certain that the Hakobito or Hako Onna were in that particular chest, and use it while the chest was closed.

The person who found the gasoline let out a breath and said he was safe for tomorrow then. As long as he used the gasoline before opening the chest, he could be a hundred percent certain that the chest he opened was safe.

Liang Miye also told everyone about them finding a piece of the strongbox passcode, but she didn't tell them what the digit was. She only said that if anyone else found any, they could work together. Whoever had more digits could get the key, and if everybody found only one, then they would play rock-paper-scissors for the key.

This was the fairest method. Plus, others hadn't found any other digits yet, so everybody quickly agreed.

After exchanging intel, the group dispersed.

Ruan Nanzhu seemed a bit sleepy. He kept yawning after getting up from the table.

Lin Qiushi asked, "what's wrong? Are you not feeling well?"

"Mh, I want to sleep," Ruan Nanzhu said. "Let's go back to the room first."

He rubbed his eyes, looking really quite tired.

“Alright. Did you not sleep well last night?"

They walked up to the second floor and returned to their room. Ruan Nanzhu sat down on the side of the bed, but didn't get in. His gaze fell on a chest by the wall.

Sitting behind him, Lin Qiushi paused.

"Zhu Meng?"

Ruan Nanzhu didn't answer.

"Zhu Meng?" Lin Qiushi came up to him and patted him on the shoulder, asking, "what's going on with you?"

Ruan Nanzhu's head whipped around, and he said, "…nothing."

A touch of hesitation surfaced between his brows, but in the end he still said, "nothing."

Liang Miye, "Zhu Meng, you didn't eat right? I'll go make some instant noodles for you."

She'd actually brought in instant noodles.

Liang Miye went to the kitchen to boil water. Lin Qiushi stayed seated beside Ruan Nanzhu, thinking Ruan Nanzhu wasn't feeling well. He put a hand to Ruan Nanzhu's forehead and confirmed Ruan Nanzhu wasn't running a temperature.

"Does it hurt anywhere?"

Ruan Nanzhu shook his head. He seemed a bit disconcerted by his own condition as well.

"I'm fine."

Lin Qiushi didn't reply. He followed Ruan Nanzhu's line of sight and saw the black wooden chest by the wall. It was still a normal chest, but judging by Ruan Nanzhu's gaze, one would think there was something of tremendous importance inside that chest.

An absurd thought appeared in Lin Qiushi's mind, and his expression went frozen. His voice, when he spoke, had become raspy: "Zhu Meng."

He took Ruan Nanzhu's face in his hands and pulled it by force to face him.

"Stop looking at that chest."

Ruan Nanzhu didn't answer. His expression didn't look right at all.

Lin Qiushi, "Zhu Meng?"

Ruan Nanzhu reached up and pressed his hand to Lin Qiushi's arm. Then, he pried Lin Qiushi's hand off him and turned back, gaze once again landing on that chest in the corner.

"I think there's an important item in that chest."

As soon as those words were out, Lin Qiushi knew he'd guessed correctly—the Hako Onna had used a power.

Open This. There must be something important in there. Maybe it's something that couldn kill the Hako Onna. As long as it's opened, they could leave here and return to reality. Ruan Nanzhu's eyes grew more and more determined. He slowly stood up from the bed.

"Nanzhu—" Lin Qiushi couldn't care for much else at this point, calling out Ruan Nanzhu's name directly. He grabbed Ruan Nanzhu around the waist. "Nanzhu, wake up!!"

Ruan Nanzhu didn't speak. He was very strong, easily pulling off the arm Lin Qiushi held him with and continuing toward the chest.

"Nanzhu—" A layer of cold sweat dotted Lin Qiushi's forehead. He used all his strength, but only managed to slightly slow Ruan Nanzhu's walking speed. "Nanzhu you gotta wake up, you can't open that chest!!"

He was roaring, trying to snap Ruan Nanzhu out of the illusion, but it was of no use. Ruan Nanzhu couldn't hear his voice at all, only continued forward step by step. He was already moments away from reaching the chest.

Because of Lin Qiushi's calls, Liang Miye had also come out of the kitchen. Seeing such a scene she yelled in fright, "Linlin, what's wrong!"

"Hako Onna's power!" Head soaked in sweat, Lin Qiushi was panting heavily. "Quick, come help me!"

Liang Miye also dashed over to help grab onto Ruan Nanzhu with Lin Qiushi.

But in the face of Ruan Nanzhu's immense strength, their attempts to stop him were like mayflies dashing themselves upon a tree. It was in this critical moment that an idea flashed in Lin Qiushi's mind. He yelled, "Liang Miye! Quick! Grab my backpack!"

Though she didn't know what for, Liang Miye still made a run for the backpack, dashing back to Lin Qiushi with it.

"Now what?!"

Lin Qiushi said, "hold onto Ruan Nanzhu!"

He took the backpack and swiftly began to dig through it—he didn't know if it would actually work or not, but this was the last hope of Ruan Nanzhu's survival!

[Ch. 109] | [Ch. 111]

[vvienne]

SANGCHENG FIC RECS

flight of a one-winged dove by bloodletter

Talking at someone is only fun for so long. That's all being a sect leader is: talking and talking to people bound by courtesy to listen to you. It's so fucking dull. A relief, then, to face one’s equal, and no less an old friend who is inclined to interrupt you whenever you ramble. He likes it. It’s one of Jiang Cheng’s best qualities.

In the years after Guanyin Temple, Nie Huaisang attends to unfinished business.

whipped by reindeercolin

Jiang Cheng blinks. “Dammit, they do think you’re dating one of us! I hate it when Wei Wuxian is right.” “Excuse me?” Nie Huaisang gives him an incredulous look. “First of all, they think I’m dating you, and if anything, they’re getting more aggressive!”

(or, the one in which Jiang Cheng has too many relatives, not enough patience, goes through a brother-divorce and finds out he has a boyfriend - in that order, more or less.)

Ponder the Manner of Things by Pip (Moirail)

It's not that Jiang Cheng can't do a quadruple flip followed by a triple toeloop. It's that his mother seems to think that's still not good enough.

Jiang Cheng is grateful that Huaisang doesn’t have the same kind of family life that he does, all - messy with expectations and cravings for closeness and nothing but vague filial piety where love is meant to be.

a matter of time and organ donation by nev_longbottom

This is it. The call he’s been waiting for. His brother had ‘an accident’ or ‘died in his sleep’ or some other lie to cover up the murder.

“Please, Mingjue is missing. He got into one of his moods and he was gone when I came back from grocery shopping. He’s not answering his phone. I don’t know if he left or was kidnapped or if something else happened. Huaisang, please, if you’ve heard anything,” Meng Yao begs.

Nie Huaisang hunts his brother's killer.

no tip necessary by tattletold

With all the nervousness of a virgin in a whorehouse, Jiang Cheng closes the door behind himself and enters, sitting on the low seat across from the escort. The pretty young man keeps his face hidden behind the delicate fan, and Jiang Cheng thinks for a moment that he recognizes the design painted onto it now that he’s closer.

It’s only when he lowers the fan and opens his eyes, wide, does Jiang Cheng paralyze with realization.

They speak at the same time in equally horrified tones.

“Jiang Cheng?”

“Nie Huaisang?”

Your Place in the Family of Things by raisedbyhyenas

No matter what happens, no matter the circumstances, Wei Wuxian will always leave and Jiang Cheng will always get stuck trying to rebuild from whatever’s left.

*************

In which Jiang Cheng makes friends; gets a cat; begins to rebuild a relationship; and maybe, possibly, potentially, learns a little bit how to be happy.

sigh yourself to sleep by merthurlin

“Let me take care of you, A-Cheng.”

No one—no one has ever said that, not to Jiang Cheng. He wasn’t a very sickly child, true, but the few times he remembered being sick it was never—he had a-jie, and later on he had Wei Wuxian, for what it was worth, but he never—

halcyon days by serein

They're in a forest, it seems just the two of them.

"You have to be patient," Nie Huaisang says, "I once waited for three days to catch a sparrow."

"Three days?" Jiang Cheng replies, sceptical. He can't imagine Nie Huaisang having the attention span for that.

"It's not that hard," Nie Huaisang says, "if you know what they want, and find a way to get it for them."

[JC stumbles across an array and gets physically de-aged to be 16/17. NHS kindly offers his help to an old friend, but things... escalate.]

To Distraction by isozyme

It’s the third night of Yunmeng’s kite festival celebrations. Nie Huaisang has come visiting, eager to partake in the food, the arts, and Jiang Cheng.

-

Jiang Cheng wants to forget. Nie Huaisang has some new lube and wants to see if he can put his whole fist in somebody’s ass.

Lights, Camera, Kiss by MissMagus

When Nie Huaisang gets paired with straight porn star Jiang Cheng for a five-part series, he’s sure it will be an utter disaster. Until the cameras start rolling and their chemistry alights like wildfire.

(Or, the five times Nie Huaisang and Jiang Cheng have sex for their job, and the first time they have sex outside of it.)

Only the Shallow by hamburglar

When Nie Huaisang gets bored and convinces Jiang Cheng to make out with him, he’s probably not expecting to still be dealing with the guy 16 years later.

OR the story where Jiang Cheng goes into: the Cloud Recesses, denial, some bushes, the private porn library at the Unclean Realm, and subspace.

Blind for Love by manamune

Jiang Cheng is poisoned with an aphrodisiac and needs to orgasm repeatedly in order to flush it from his system.

The first person he thinks of going to for help is Nie Huaisang, who does what any good friend would do: he shoves his three decades worth of feelings for Jiang Cheng deep into the recesses of his mind, locks them up so he can pretend they don’t exist, and then fucks him so hard that he passes out.

Descending by lightningwaltz

“I want to… to not be embarrassed.”

“To not be embarrassed during what?”

“During sex.” There. Jiang Cheng can say it. “In general. Also with you right now.”

“Very good.”

“When did you become so authoritative?” Jiang Cheng wants to sound irked, but can’t quite manage anything beyond nervous curiosity.

dark water by Morgan (duckwhatduck)

There are words, somewhere, for this. Words that would put a shape to the thing that sits between them, would seal their understanding. There are words for sympathy, for friendship, for understanding, for that touch, for this feeling.

Jiang Cheng can feel them, somewhere, fluttering formless at the back of his throat, squirming under his ribcage, but he cannot grasp them. They swim beneath the surface, fish in muddy water - and like fish, they will dart away if he grabs for them incautiously, and leave him nothing but cold splashes and grit.

Or: Why talk about things when you could fuck about it instead?

never knew i was a dancer by isozyme

“What’s a stone butch and why aren’t they real?” Jiang Cheng asks, too buzzed to care too much about not being up on lesbian culture.

Huaisang pats Jiang Cheng on the no-man’s-land between her boobs and her shoulder. “You’re so useless, Jiang Cheng. A stone butch is a fictional hottie who doesn’t make you do any work at all, just wants to give head and fuck you stupid on her strap.”

“Fictional?” Jiang Cheng echoes, having - not a moment, per se, but sort of a problem where her thoughts are going too fast for her poor drunken brain to keep up with.

“Nobody actually wants to fuck a chick who’s too lazy to eat you out after,” Huaisang mumbles.

-

After leaving Wei Ying and Lan Zhan’s bachelorette party, Jiang Cheng and Nie Huaisang decide to experiment with some outdated stereotypical lesbian sex roles.

lights out by rynleaf

“Nie-zongzhu makes the most sense,” Sect Leader Yao nods sagely, to murmurs of assent across the Jin Sect’s gold gilded banquet hall. Jin Ling, clad in opulent robes that look somewhat comical on a boy of sixteen, inclines his head as his scribe makes a notation, and the noise rises as sect leaders pat themselves and each other on the back for a decision well made.

Jiang Cheng groans and downs his cup of wine in one go.

-

In which the Sect Leaders elect a new Chief Cultivator.

shadow eternal by rynleaf

“You want me to distract the Chief Cultivator from the Annual Cultivation Conference, so you and other sect leaders can… what. Sign contracts without adult supervision?”

“If Jiang-zongzhu is amenable,” Sect Leader Ouyang repeats with a nod.

Jiang Cheng pinches the bridge of his nose. The pressure he felt building behind his eyes all morning is swiftly coalescing into a bitch of a headache. “Just what do you all think I’m capable of?”

Sect Leader Ouyang bows with a cheerful smile. “We have utmost faith in Sandu Shengshou’s abilities.”

-

In which a night hunt ends in disaster, Jiang Cheng catches a glimpse of Nie Huaisang's heart, and feelings are discussed after a certain fashion.

Four Days in Lanling by halotolerant

Nie Huaisang looks at him. ‘You are confusing me, Clan Leader Jiang, perhaps I misunderstand, but…’

‘You didn’t misunderstand. You don’t misunderstand. You understand all of it.’ For six months Jiang Cheng has been mulling this over, and now with Nie Huaisang in front of him he can’t figure out if he most wants to knock him down or kneel at his feet. What he does is try and breathe. Clench his hands at his sides. ‘And now I am going to ask you to do something for me. You have to do something for me. You have to help Jin Ling.’

Lean for Love Forever by Pip (Moirail)

Having a crush on your roommate is really embarrassing, except that's apparently the opposite of a problem. Jiang Cheng can't deny that's pretty convenient.

Wei Ying holds it up, a series of straps and buckles and velcro and wow, really a lot of leather. It has absolutely no conceivable form beyond tangled.

Nie Huaisang opens the door at exactly the moment that Wei Ying holds the thing up to Jiang Cheng’s chest, as if he’s trying to imagine how exactly it would fit onto a person, and it falls into a tangled pile between them while they stare at Huaisang in mild mortification.

acquired momentum by mongrelmind

Had Madam Yu known that this is where her son would end up, she would have gouged his eyes out with her bracelet before he made the grave mistake of looking in the direction of Nie Huaisang.

-

in which Nie Huaisang has an art show, Jiang Cheng is begrudgingly topless*, and there are. Shenanigans.

*Nie Huaisang excluded.

[kyouxa]

Diabolik lovers Chaos Lineage: Subaru Sakamaki (Story 11)

In terms of the gameplay: The black choices lead up to a bad ending, the white choices lead up to a good ending. Please no reposting onto other sites, ask me before translating this into another language too! If you enjoy these translations, please consider supporting me on ko-fi.

Monologue

While being held by Subaru-kun, we escaped from the Scarlet mansion together.

I entangled my fingers strongly with his, this way, I’d never be able to let go of his hand.

And while I did so, Subaru-kun strongly clasped my hand as a response to my action.

Both of us couldn’t do anything else but run for our lives.

We tried finding a place to hide in, even though there wasn’t any place for us to go.

Place: Outside — Abandoned house

Subaru: What’s this?

Yui: Seems as if there’s an abandoned house even in a place like this.

Subaru: I wish we came here earlier. I’ll let you down.

Yui: Yes, thank you.

*Subaru lets Yui down*

Subaru: ...There seems to be no sign of any familiars around here either. But we can’t let our guard down.

Yui: That’s a relief for now. Would you like to go inside and take a rest then? I’m still worried about your injury.

Subaru: ...It might be best not to enter the house instantly.

Yui: Why is that?

Subaru: We couldn’t escape in case of emergency. Plus, we don’t mean to stay here forever anyway.

Not only Scarlet and Orange are after us, Violet is also still aiming for us.

We should try to find a safer place instead of getting ourselves into this run-down shabby house...

Yui: …..

Subaru: Heh, how funny. I really can’t trust anyone anymore here. It doesn’t even matter if it’s any of my brothers or not.

Everyone is looking for me because they want to snatch Eve away from me.

But they can bring it on if they dare. I don’t need to borrow anyone’s strength to protect my precious girlfriend.

Yui: I hope this never happens though! It’s not a bad thing to rely on other people after all. But during times like those I understand how hard it is to trust others...

Subaru: ...Guess so.

Yui: (Neither of us can trust anyone besides ourselves… but it’s only natural that he’s frustrated after Reiji-san betrayed us like he did, right?)

What should we do about your injury, Subaru-kun? The wound opened itself again a while ago, right?

Subaru: Don’t worry about it, I’m fine.

Yui: Please, Subaru-kun. Don’t try to act tough in front of me.

I’m afraid it will get even more messed up because you’re holding the pain in just to have me not worry about you.

Subaru: You…

Choices

1) I can’t see the future (black)

2) It’s because I like Subaru-kun (white) ♡ ♡ ♡

— I can’t see the future

Yui: We’re forced to get chased by everyone without even knowing why this is happening to the both of us...

I’m just worried because I can’t look into the future. I can’t help but wonder how long we’ll have to continue living like this...

Subaru: I didn’t mean to worry you, sorry.

Yui: No! You’re wrong! I’m not saying this is your fault or anything, Subaru-kun… !

I’m sorry, Subaru-kun. While I’m whining about all the things I just said, you’re relying on me more than ever.

It’s just hard for me to see you get even more hurt than you already are...

— It’s because I like Subaru-kun ♡

Subaru: I told you already, I’m fine. I’m a vampire, so this won’t be a big bother to me.

Yui: You might act as if it’s not bothering you, but it does bother me...

I really like you a lot, Subaru-kun. Therefore, I hate it when people I like are going through hard times by themselves.

I know I don’t have the same approximate strength as you do, but as much as you want to protect me...

I want to protect you as well.

Subaru: Does it really bother you that much?

end Choices

Yui: Hey, Subaru-kun. Be honest with me, would you be happier if I wasn’t here with you and the injury never happened?

Subaru: Hah? What are you talking about so suddenly?

*Yui starts crying*

Yui: You’re still injured because of me, and you have to force yourself to run away from everyone and everything due to me being with you.

...Maybe without me you could’ve stayed at Carla or even Reiji-san’s mansion.

Speaking of that, if I ended up cooperating as Eve, maybe someone would end up helping—

Subaru: Don’t say stupid shit!

Yui: Subaru-kun…

Subaru: You can’t decide these things on your own like that! Do you really think you’ll rescue everyone if you selfishly give yourself to them!? Hah!?

You’re still seen as a saint woman here, you know. So don’t play around with that!

Yui: I didn’t mean it like that...

Subaru: I said it so many times already though! No matter what you are in this world, I need you to be safe and sound!

*grabs Yui*

Subaru: Fuck, why won’t you get it!? I’ve already prepared myself to be with you from the start, okay!?

Yui: ….. !?

Subaru: It doesn’t matter to me what might happen to my body. I don’t want to give you to anyone else, even if things will go wrong…

*Subaru gets closer*

Yui: Subaru-kun…

Subaru: I don’t ever want to lose the feeling of holding you in my arms like I do right now… !

That’s why… ouch...

Yui: ...Ah, your injury… are you okay? Don’t overwork yourself.

(After all, his face does look as if he's in pain. You’re acting strong, but the wound actually does hurt you a lot, doesn’t it?)

(And despite that, he’s trying his hardest not to make me worry about him…)

Subaru: Shit, I just hugged you but it already started hurting so much… Ngh

I can’t do anything with this injury. I doubt I could even fight any of them in my current conditions… !

Yui: (I’m so sorry, Subaru-kun… after all, without me—)

Subaru: What do I do!?

*lightning strikes*

Subaru: What was that light just now!?

What’s going on?

???: …..

Yui: A glowing… ball?

Subaru: What’s with this ball? Looks like the odd things strike yet again...

Socrates: My name is Socrates—

Subaru: Damn! That thing talked! Yui, stay behind me!

Socrates: What heroic actions indeed. So you really are protecting Eve despite your whole body continuously suffering from your injury.

It appears as if we have hit an interesting phase in our experiment. I could not possibly miss this opportunity.

Subaru: Experiment… ?

Yui: What do you mean by that exactly? And who even are you?

Socrates: You do not need to know me. But let’s say that I am the specific reason why you are participants of this world.

Yui: (So this thing knows about this world…)

Um, why are both of us expected to be here to begin with? And where are we right now!?

Socrates: This place is a closed world created with magical power. You can imagine it like a miniature garden.

And as long as you are staying in this garden, neither of your memories were supposed to ever come back.

Subaru: As long as we’re in this garden? Does that mean...

Socrates: Exactly. If you can find a way to get out of this garden, everything will return back to its normality. The changed memory will return to their usual state as well.

However, I did indeed notice both of you had their memory returned without my interfering.

It seemed as this took place due to a sudden shock situation the both of you found yourselves in.

It could have also happened because of my extreme inadequacy. Let’s try to use this as a reference to what happened in the future.

Subaru: In the future… stop bullshitting me.

Spit it out, bastard! If you know this much, then it was you who trapped us here, right!?

What the fuck is the purpose of this entire shit anyway!?

Socrates: …..

Subaru: Tch… don’t shut up now!

*Subaru tries hitting Socrates*

Subaru: ...Nn, what… ?

Yui: Subaru-kun’s fist didn’t hit it...

Socrates: Such attacks are utterly useless. You cannot even touch me, I hope you realized that.

If you truly wish to go fight against something, go against this world itself, not me.

Subaru: Hah?

Socrates: This miniature garden is designed to break easily if it’s confronted with certain conditions.

Yui: (I’m glad to hear that. So there is a way to escape from here!)

Can you tell us about those certain conditions?

Socrates: The condition for this outcome is that one person in this garden has to sacrifice themselves for the other players.

Yui: Sacrifice… ?

Socrates: Any method for this matter will do. They merely have to end their own life.

Yui: Ending their life, you say...

Subaru: ...Don’t spread bullshit around! Are you telling us to kill ourselves here or what!?

Socrates: Not everyone has to die. In the end, only one has to sacrifice its life.

If there will be a player killing themselves instead of being killed by somebody, the experiment can no longer continue and the garden will be destroyed.

Subaru: Even so, we can’t do that!

Socrates: Well then, you should simply continue being trapped in this garden where time has stopped.

Nevertheless, it does not matter. I will now continue to watch attentively over the fate both of you will choose in the future.

*Socrates disappears*

Yui: Ah, it disappeared.

Subaru: Hey! Shit, come back!! We weren’t done talking yet!

Yui: Socrates-san! Why would you think and carry out such a cruel plan!?

Why do these brothers have to fight each other and even try to kill one another for this… ?

(We finally understand how this world works, but we can’t possibly do something as horrible as that… !)

(If nobody in this world will commit suicide, nobody will end up being saved)

(It might be ridiculous to accept what that glowing ball said without being able to question it…)

(But if there’s really no other way out here, should we really try this method… ?)

Subaru: Kch…

Yui: (Subaru-kun seems really worried about this too)

(No wonder. You can’t force someone to kill or even commit suicide to escape so suddenly like that…)

(I wonder, is there any other way we could try? There has to be a way to break free from this garden and for everyone to return there safely…)

[tothemeadow]

A New Year’s gift from me to you!

~*ᑕᕼᗩᑭTEᖇ TᗯO*~

warnings: NSFW, semi-public sex

words: 5.1 k

Prologue | Chapter One

-

“Not interested.”

All it takes is those two words, two dreadful words, and Kyojuro’s groaning in disappointment. Tapping his fingers against the chair’s arms, he pushes his lips out in a pout. Giyuu merely rolls his eyes at him, gaze flicking back to whatever is displayed on the computer’s screen.

It had only been a mere suggestion, nothing more. Go out, get some drinks, maybe find someone to take home. Lord knows how much Giyuu needs to get laid; the guy’s stress is palpable, and Kyojuro wants to help his friends however he can. Maybe all it takes is to get his dick sucked, nice and fucking hard. And, if he plays his cards right, have someone clinging onto his arm by the end of the night.

Kyojuro isn’t an idiot, nor is he blind. Giyuu is beautiful, looking like he stepped right out of the pages of some goddamn fairy tale. Hell, even his bank account is real pretty, every single zero making it even more dazzling. What he means is that Giyuu can have anybody if he truly wanted to. The problem is, however, is that a sack of potatoes has more charisma than the poor man. Giyuu isn’t much of a social butterfly, unlike Kyojuro.

It kind of sucks.

“Aw, come on, man,” Kyojuro groans, “let me take you for a night out. You need some time to sit back and relax. Let someone else take care of you.”

“You’re being awfully persistent about this.”

“That’s because I want what’s best for you, duh. You run some bigshot company and need me to explain that to you? What was the point of you traveling overseas for university if you don’t put that knowledge to use?”

With a sigh, Giyuu turns away from his computer and rests his elbows on his desk. Like the rest of his office, it’s a solid piece of modern, expensive style. The wood gleams with the rays of sunlight pouring in through the windows, looking almost too neat to be believable. There’s not a speck of dust in sight. It’s not the first time Kyojuro’s visited Giyuu’s office, but it always amazes him just how clean and immaculate the space is. It really reflects its owner, his simple yet sleek style.

“Kyojuro,” Giyuu starts, threading his fingers together, “you literally told me you wanted me to take someone home.”

At that, Kyojuro smiles. “And what’s your point? You go to some Ivy League school and not partake in some parties? No keg stands? Beer pong? Fucking the brains out of some busty blonde?”

“Not everyone is a certified sex symbol,” Giyuu states coolly. “You don’t see my face on the cover of magazines advertising an article about some upcoming film where I blow everyone to bits and take a dame to bed.”

“Ohohoho, somebody’s getting frisky, I see. That is a sign, my dear friend. You need to get your dick wet and pronto.”

“Don’t belittle me.”

Raising his hands in mock self-defense, Kyojuro flashes Giyuu a knowing smirk. “You’re only proving my point. And if you don’t want to meet somebody random, why not let me hit up someone I know? I can set you up.”

Giyuu scoffs. “No thanks.”

“Oooo, what about Mitsuri or Shinobu-“

“Don’t ever suggest that,” Giyuu hisses. His entire face scrunches, much like he just tasted something incredibly sour.

Bursting into a fit of laughter, Kyojuro leans forward in his seat, hands gripping onto his sides. “Shit, man, I forget how funny you can be sometimes!” Wiping away at his eyes, he sits back, a spare giggle or two escaping from his lips. “Speaking of Mitsuri… I guess she really hit it off with Idris’ girl’s friend.”

Instead of saying anything, Giyuu merely raises an eyebrow. However, he still looks incredibly disinterested.

“Oh, you remember her, don’t you? The one from the party last week? Long legs, nice ass? I think her name was (y/n)?”

At the mention of your name, Giyuu visibly perks up. Heh. Hook, line, and sinker.

“It’s a damn shame, don’t you think? Somebody so fine got nabbed before I even had the chance to make a move,” Kyojuro continues, willing his voice to take on a wistful tone. He sends Giyuu a wink. “She’s a solid ten, don’t you think?”

The movement is so, so subtle, but Kyojuro knows he’s got Giyuu right where he wants him. Giyuu clears his throat, then – a poor attempt at trying to come off as disinterested. “It’s a good thing Mitsuri found someone she likes so much,” he says, completely bypassing the question.

“Mitsuri likes her, alright; likes her even better in bed.”

It takes all of Kyojuro’s willpower not to laugh, it really does. He can practically see the gears turning in Giyuu’s head, the slight tinge of red blooming on the tips of his ears. Jeez, if it takes this much to get Giyuu flustered, then he’d pay to see what would happen if he took Giyuu to a strip club.

“And I’ll tell you what,” he continues, crossing his legs and cocking his head. “Mitsuri’s willing to share her with the rest of us, but only if she wants it.”

“What… What are you talking about? What do you mean by sharing?”

Clicking his tongue in amusement, Kyojuro uncrosses his legs and shuffles forward, just barely sitting on the edge of the chair. “Exactly what it sounds like, Giyuu. Doesn’t that sound nice? Imagine having a pretty thing like that sitting on your lap.”

Again, Giyuu scoffs. “You’re starting to sound like Tengen.”

“But you didn’t say no to what I just put in your head.”

Giyuu grumbles something under his breath, but it’s too low for Kyojuro to understand. No matter; there’s a knock at the door, then, and in pops Giyuu’s personal secretary’s head. A cute boy – Kamado Tanjiro – with honest eyes and a genuine smile. The earrings he wears swings in his lobes. “Tomioka-san, you’re three o’clock appointment is here. Shall I tell them you’re busy?”

“Don’t worry about it, Tanjiro,” Kyojuro says. Drawing himself up to a stand, he smooths out the wrinkles in his pants and salutes Giyuu with two fingers. “Think about what I said, Giyuu. There’s fun to be had.” With a final smirk, he brushes past Tanjiro and leaves.

-

It’s only been a few days since that experience with Mitsuri, but you can already tell that something’s changed. Granted, you still feel a bit odd about the whole situation, but another, darker side of you is pleased. Daki is more than ecstatic to have you as a sugar sister; before, whenever you’d go shopping with her, you’d only help pick out clothing for her since everything was way too damn expensive. Now, though… Now things are different.

“I still can’t believe this is happening,” Daki gushes from where she sits. Perched on a fluffy stool in front of her vanity, she carefully applies a set of false eyelashes. “Like, think of all the fun things we get to do together! Don’t get me wrong, Idris is great, but some of those parties he drags me to can be an absolute bore. If you’re there, well, it’s bound to be more fun! Besides, think of all the yummy treats you’ll get to have…”

From your spot on the couch, you guffaw at your friend’s attempt to hype you up. Carefully, you dip the brush back into the bottle; the nail polish Daki picked out is a shade of pastel pink with pearl undertones. She said Mitsuri really had a thing for pretty pink things, so it was only natural for you to fit that bill, obviously.

“Yes, because stuffing my face with macarons and bubbly is how I want to spend my time,” you say, sarcasm dripping heavily from your words.

“Oh, like you wouldn’t love that,” Daki throws right back at you. “Besides, you wanna be extra sweet for Mitsuri, don’t you? Don’t act like Mitsuri didn’t already have her head stuffed between your legs.”

“Daki!” you shriek. You scramble to catch the bottle of nail polish before it spills all over the place. “Don’t say things like that!”

“Pffft, what for? It’s true, you sneaky bitch! You’ve been glowing ever since your date with her! Did I not tell you that sex with Misturi is the bomb?”

“Okay, okay! You were right!” you exclaim, bursting into round of giggles.

Putting her mascara away, Daki gets up from her spot and moves to where you sit on the couch. Lifting your legs, she slithers in next to you and props your feet on her lap. “Give me that,” she says, taking the nail polish away from you. “Are you and Mitsuri going on a date anytime soon?”

As you nod, a sheepish smile grows on your face. “Yeah – she’s taking me to a theatre tonight, actually. I guess there’s some play she wanted to watch with me.”

“Aww, well isn’t that cute!” Daki chirps, not looking away from the task at hand. “Wait,” she says, suddenly looking up at you, “that means I get to play dress up, right?”

Since being Idris’ sugar baby and all, Daki is no stranger to the luxurious lifestyle and the vast amount of clothes and accessories that comes with. Furthermore, Idris even bought her some swanky apartment, filled with top notch appliances, spacious rooms, and yes, you guessed it – a walk in closet. It’s where you sit now, gazing at the numerous wracks of clothing, the shelves of shoes and purses. It put you in mind of Barbie’s closet, actually, with just how many articles of clothing Daki owns.

You guess you could consider yourself lucky that you and your best friend are the same size. Sure, you’ve shared clothes with each other throughout the years, but once she started her “collection” of designer products, it was game over. You became her personal doll, then, and Daki loved every second of it.

The smile on your face grows at Daki’s excitement. “Who else would I have to pick me out the perfect outfit?” you coo. Daki giggles, then, her green eyes sparkling with mirth.

“Chop, chop,” she says, pushing your feet away and standing up. You take a moment to admire the neatly applied nail polish adorning your toes. “I have the perfect outfit in mind for you, and it’s bound to have Mitsuri drooling all over you!”

“Are you sure about that?” you tease, lolling your head to the side.

Scurrying over to a wrack of dresses (all of which are designer, you’re sure of it), Daki pushes some to the side and grabs one that has you gasping. Powder blue in color, the bustier top and layered tulle skirt almost seem more befitting of a princess rather than yourself. Standing up from the couch, you walk over to her, eager to get a better closer. Lacey pastel flower decorate the top layer of tulle and travel up the bustier, all looking so delicate and sweet. It’s a beautiful dress, that much is for sure.

“I’ll do your hair and makeup, too, okay!” Daki exclaims. She really is too sweet for her own good sometimes.

Later that very evening, you’re sitting in the back of a sleek, luxurious car. Mitsuri sits next to you, looking as perfect as always; with her curled hair pinned high on her head, you’re graced with the elegant slope of her neck, the diamond choker wrapped around her throat. A few curly wisps of pink and green hair frame her face, give her a youthful look. She’s so breathtakingly stunning that it’s leaving your throat dry.

Mitsuri busies herself with messaging someone on her phone – she’s already apologized for letting her work get in the way of your date tonight – but you don’t mind, not when you get to gaze at her lovely being. You’ve already began to familiarize yourself with her brand and the creative looks she specializes in: sultry, elegant, and enough to bring a person to their knees. Perhaps that’s what you tell yourself as your eyes scan over her bare skin; it’s for fashion, of course, not because you’re a shameless pervert.

Still, the choker adorning her throat is a bit too enticing, especially with its delicate chain hanging from its center, nestled between the valley of her voluptuous breasts. Why does she always have to have her cleavage on full display around you? Doesn’t she have any idea how much it makes your brain melt?

“You’re staring,” Mitsuri murmurs, her attention still on her phone. The corners of her mouth curl into a smile. “You’re not distracted, are you, sweets?”

“I’m sorry, Mommy,” you whisper. “It’s not my fault that you’re too pretty.”

A pleasant blush blooms on her face. Sparing a moment to glance at the chauffeur, Mitsuri clicks her screen off and puts her phone back into her purse. “Come here,” she says, her voice dripping with honey. Wrapping an arm around your waist, she pulls you closer, barely brushes her glossed lips against your ear. “You don’t want to start something like that, do you? I don’t want to be rude and ruin the back of this car.”

The giggle in your ear is enough to send shivers down your spine. “What do you mean?”

“What I mean, sweets, is that I don’t want to have someone clean your cum off of this leather.”

You gasp as a wave of heat strikes your very core, wraps around your insides and gives them a good squeeze. “Mommy,” you plead, keeping your voice quiet.

“And your hair and makeup look so nice,” Mitsuri continues. “It’d be a shame to ruin it before you get to show it off.”

Shit, Daki was right. Turns out she knew exactly what she was doing.

“All that matters is that Mommy got to see it,” you purr, leaning more into her warm body. Your eyelashes flutter when her soft breast makes contact with your arm. “It doesn’t matter who else gets to see it.”

The grip around your waist tightens. “(y/n)…”

“Kanroji-san, we’re here,” the chauffeur’s voice suddenly cuts in. It’s enough to snap you back to reality; glancing out the window, you’re greeted with the sight of a brightly lit theatre and a line of patrons waiting at the ticket booth.

“My, my,” Mitsuri says, “looks like it’s going to be a packed house tonight. It’s a good thing I booked some tickets ahead of time, huh?” Turning back to you, she flashes a lovely smile and caresses your cheek. “Have you ever sat in a balcony seat before, darling? You’re going to have a great view.”

“Wait, seriously? Aren’t those super… expensive…?” as you trail off, realization dawns upon you. Of course Mitsuri would buy out some of the most expensive seats in the house – it’s only natural of her to do so. Still, the mere idea of how much they even spent throws your mind in for a loop.

“And your reaction makes it even more special,” Mitsuri purrs. “Come on, let’s go get seated while there’s still time.”

Opening the car door, Mitsuri steps out, and then she promptly turns back to you to help. Linking her arm around yours, she leads you inside the theatre; taking some twists and turns, she leads you up a secluded staircase that, in turn, takes you to the proper balcony. A gasp escapes from your mouth before you can stop it. It’s utterly breathtaking from where you are, the large stage set below you, the sea of people swarming to find their own seats.

“It’s nice, isn’t it?” Mitsuri asks you as she joins you by the ledge. Setting her elbows on the wall, she looks around the theatre, a thoughtful hum vibrating in her throat. “And just think, sweets, that this is all for you.” Turning to you, she perches her chin in a hand. “I’ll show you so many things that you’ll love, darling. It’s the least I can do.”

“Mitsuri,” you murmur. Swallowing thickly, you push back the creeping urge to cry. How did you get so lucky meeting someone so genuinely sweet?

“Hey now,” Mitsuri continues, still using that honeyed tone, “don’t get sappy. If you start to cry, then I’ll start crying as well!”

Beckoning you over, she takes her seat and watches as you take the one next to hers. The balcony itself is small, with enough room only for three seats. And, as far as it seems, you’ll get to spend the entirety of the play alone with Mitsuri, away from wandering eyes. Hands intertwined with hers, the two of you fall into easy conversation and mild flirting to pass the time. Both of you are practically petting each other’s thighs through your dresses when the door opens; snapping hands away from each other, you turn to see who the unexpected newcomer is.

“Giyuu?”

Coming to an abrupt stop at the sound of his name, Giyuu’s eyes widen. Once he sees it’s only you and Mitsuri, he visibly relaxes, his shoulders slumping. “Um… Hello, ladies. I wasn’t expecting to see you here.” Drawing around the corner, he stands awkwardly before the empty seat. He offers a polite bow, but you notice right away that his eyes refuse to meet yours.

“This is certainly a pleasant surprise!” Mitsuri chirps, a dazzling smile spreading on her features.

“Tomioka-san,” you say, trying to put his nerves at ease, “please, sit down. I don’t bite.”

Still, Giyuu refuses to meet your eyes, but he does as you say and takes the seat next to you. It may be the dim light of the theatre, but you swear there’s a faint blush on his cheeks.

Okay, time to try this again. “Tomioka-san… I wanted to thank you for last time. For trying to comfort me when I was so obviously out of place at that party.”

At that, Giyuu clears his throat, and then he finally looks at you. Instead of saying anything, though, he merely grunts and nods his head. You offer him a small smile.

Just as you remember, he’s devastatingly handsome, his gaze a cold, steely blade. On the outside, he seems incredibly intimidating; dark hair, black getup, sharp eyes. You know there’s more than what meets the eye, and Giyuu is the epitome of that very concept. The aura surrounding him is calming, reassuring. You barely know the guy, only met him once, but you already like him.

“My, Giyuu,” Mitsuri speaks up, leaning forward in her seat so she can look around you, “don’t you look nice! I always told you that you would look great in black on black, but you never listen to me! Now look at you! You look like you just came straight off a runway! Don’t you think so, (y/n)?”

Mitsuri has a point, of course. Dressed in a black suit, black button up, and black shoes, Giyuu is the textbook definition of tall, dark, and handsome. He almost seems flustered by Mitsuri’s comment; he looks to you, an unreadable glint in his eyes. Slowly, you nod, humming your agreement.

“I think he looks absolutely dashing,” you say, a small giggle following afterwards.

Giyuu’s eyes drift down, skim across your pretty dress, but you notice the way they linger over the bits of your bare skin. Hastily clearing his throat, his eyes flicker back up, the blush on his cheeks darkening the slightest bit. “You look beautiful,” he murmurs. “That color really suits you.”

With a smile, you look away, trying to ignore the excited thumping of your heart. Unbeknownst to you, Mitsuri sends Giyuu a glare, but then it melts away into a knowing look. Giyuu catches her eyes, and a silent conversation passes between the two of them.

Perhaps you should’ve paid more attention to them. You should’ve noticed Giyuu’s lingering stares, the way Mitsuri’s hand stayed on your thigh the entire time. But no, you were so enraptured by the play on the stage, stuck in a state of constant awe by the performer’s exquisite ways.

It’s about three fourths of the way through when Mitsuri finally places her lips against your ear, her warm breath fanning across the delicate skin. “Sweets, don’t tell me you haven’t noticed, hmm? You’re ruining the experience for Giyuu.” Confused by what she meant, you begin to turn your head to her, but she quickly stops you in your place. “Now, now, don’t make it so obvious. Instead of watching the show, he’s been watching you. I wonder why that is?” She breaks into a low, sultry laugh. You’ve only seen her act this one once, and that was when the two of you…. Well, you know…

“I noticed the way you were looking at him earlier,” Mitsuri continues. “He really is such a pretty man, isn’t he? Especially dressed in all black like that… It’s almost kind of exciting, isn’t it?” Again, she chuckles. “Now, this is entirely up to you, sweets, but I don’t have a problem sharing.”

What? What was that supposed to mean?

“I know, I know, this is all too sudden, but think about it. He’s a pretty man, wouldn’t you agree? I’m not saying you have to, but wouldn’t it be nice to see him in between your legs?”

This time, you snap your head to her. “Mitsuri!” you whisper-yell, “What the hell are you trying to do?!”

“Don’t act so prudish, sweets,” she purrs, her fingers trailing over your jaw. “Just look at him.” Taking your chin in hand, she directs you to look at Giyuu instead. Only one half of his face is illuminated from the light coming from the stage, but you can see the hungry glint in his eyes. “He’s practically undressing you with his eyes, sweets. How does that make you feel?”

“Tomioka-san…”

“Please don’t consider me lewd,” Giyuu starts, his voice just above a raspy grumble. “But I… I’ve been thinking about you a lot,” he confesses. “It isn’t fair to you of me thinking that way.”

Swallowing thickly, you release a shaky breath. “And what were you thinking, exactly…?”

Closing his eyes, Giyuu takes a moment to collect himself. “I want what you and Mitsuri have.”

On your other side, Mitsuri giggles. “Hear that, darling? Isn’t that so endearing? Giyuu practically just confessed to you!” Leaning in close, she presses her soft breasts against you. “And I’m perfectly okay if you want to say yes. Everyone deserves some happiness, hmm? Don’t be shy, now. Neither of us are foolish.”

This really is all too sudden. You never your night to head in this direction, nevertheless hear Giyuu tell you that he wants what you and Mitsuri have. Does that mean he also wanted to have a certain arrangement between the two of you? It’s not like you’re against it – Giyuu is certainly handsome, after all – but wouldn’t that make you seem desperate?

“If you’re on the fence about it, why don’t you give a go, just for tonight?” Mitsuri suggests. “We can forget all about it if you want. And if you don’t, well… Things should be fun, shouldn’t they?”

“I… I guess.”

“Wonderful. Giyuu, I give you my blessing to make an impression on our sweet little darling here,” Mitsuri purrs. “Don’t mess it up for yourself.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Giyuu grunts. He holds out a hand, then, a silent question displayed on his face. You glance between his face and his hand; your mind is rapidly going in loops, wondering just what he had in mind exactly. Gingerly, you place your hand in his, gasping when he suddenly yanks you up as he stands. “We won’t be gone for long,” he mutters at Mitsuri.

Mitsuri waves a dismissive hand, an uncharacteristic smirk playing on her pretty face. “Take your time. I know that you’ll need it.”

Giyuu pulls you away, leaving a giggling Mitsuri in your wake. The door to the balcony closes with a click that echoes down the silent hallway. Now that you’re completely alone with him, the realization of what this whole ordeal means comes crashing into you. Giyuu is being dead serious about this, and, well, you are too, apparently.

The two of you remain quiet as he pulls you down the hallway, his grip on your hand both gentle yet strong. He stops outside of a bathroom door, glancing both ways before dragging you in; after he’s checked for any potential bystanders in the bathroom, he locks the door. It’s then that you realize that this is the first time seeing him in bright lighting, but damn he looks just as fine. This is the first time that you’ve also stood directly next to him as well. He’s a lot broader than you anticipated, his shoulders tapering into slim hips.

“I meant it when I said it,” he tells you. The sheer sincerity of his voice strikes something deep within you, leaves you rooted to the spot. “This isn’t the way I wanted things to play out, but I uh, had someone put this little idea in the back of my head and it won’t go away.”

“You… really couldn’t stop thinking about me? I’m flattered, Tomioka-san. I didn’t know I left such an impression on you.”

“Heh. You’d be surprised.” Your breath catches in your throat as takes both of your hands in his, his thumbs drawing soothing circles into the skin. “Listen… I’m not… I’m not really good at this thing,” he says, voice low. “Relationships have never really been my forte.”

Ah, so that explains a lot.

“I don’t want to do anything that makes you uncomfortable.”

“I never pegged you for the sweet type,” you tell him.

“It’s called being considerate. I know plenty of people who wouldn’t hesitate to screw someone over.”

“You’re so serious, Tomioka-san. I can… Let me help you relax. That’s what you wanted, right?”

Giyuu hums, pulls you closer. “It’s not too late to turn back, but I really want this,” he murmurs. “Humor me?”

Before you know it, you’re backing up, the back of your thighs colliding with the counter; Giyuu lifts you with ease, setting your ass on the counter, and slipping between your legs. His mouth descends upon yours, touch almost featherlight as he kisses you. You urge him to press harder, your hands abandoning his hold and grabbing onto the lapels of his jacket instead. Giyuu grunts as you pull him even closer; sinking your teeth into his bottom lip, you pull it outward, relishing in the hiss that escapes him.

You shouldn’t be surprised with the way things go; time blurs, yet the moments seem so sharp. The pretty tulle of your skirt gathers around your hips, Giyuu’s strong hands gripping onto your thighs in such a way that it seems like he’s afraid to let you go. His mouth bleeds gold as you take kiss after kiss away from him, tongue sweeping into his mouth and licking away at the insides.

Things only grow more intimate from there; soon enough, you’re unbuttoning his shirt, hands pressing in and drifting across his skin. He’s surprisingly fit, but then again, it only adds to his godly visage. He’s openly moaning into your mouth at this point, hips bucking forward and seeking out that delicious friction. You choke on a moan as his clothed cock drags across your slit. Your panties are beyond ruined at this point, soaked all the way through and leaving a mess on the front of his slacks.

“Mmph – I bet you feel even better inside,” Giyuu breathes. “I want to… I want to see you wrapped around my cock.”

“Yes, Giyuu, yes,” you plead. Frantically, you undo the pants of his slacks, slip your hand inside his boxers.

“Ah, fuck,” he hisses. His hips absentmindedly buck into your touch, a groan rumbling deep in his chest. His voice is so low, so fucking gravelly – it’s wonderful, and fuck if you wouldn’t want to listen to it on loop.

Your insides tighten at the schlick, schlick, schlick noise that fills the bathroom, echoing all around you. Your pussy clenches around nothing, another drop of arousal seeping through your panties. “You said you wanted what I have with Mitsuri, right?” you purr. “Let me… Let me call you Daddy.”

It’s clear that the name causes something to snap inside of him; a growl rips itself from his throat, and his eyes flash with a darker, more animalistic gleam. Urging your hand off of him, he promptly pushes your panties to the side; your body tenses with excitement, your teeth sinking into your lower lip. Giyuu moans as he sheathes his cock inside of you, his hands gripping onto your legs and wrapping them around his slim hips.

“Oh, baby,” he purrs, his hands slamming down on the counter either side of you, effectively caging you in. “Feels so good… so tight…”

“Daddy, come on,” you whine, “we don’t have all night. You wanted this, remember? So fuck me, already. Fuck me like you mean it.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Giyuu murmurs into your ear. Sliding his hips away, he snaps his cock right back in, your velvety walls eagerly sucking him in. “I plan on doing so much more. You won’t regret it, baby. Not on my watch.”

“Just don’t ruin the dress,” you mutter, placing your lips against the pounding vein in his neck. “It’s not mine and I really don’t feel removing your cum from it.”

Giyuu sucks a breath in through his teeth as you suck a mark into his flesh. “Then I guess I’ll just have to cum inside, huh…?”

“I fucking dare you.”

“That sounds like a challenge, baby. Don’t mind if I do…”

-

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, they’ve been gone for a while, now,” Mitsuri says quietly into her phone. “Giyuu really needed to let loose, huh?”

“That sneaky little bastard,” Kyojuro says. He sighs. “And I invited for a night out, too. Dammit. Why does everyone else get to have fun while I don’t?”

Mitsuri giggles. “You’re really that jealous of Giyuu, huh? It’s actually really funny. Maybe I should tell Tengen, just to see what his reaction is like!”

“What, so he can join in on your little ‘arrangement’ you’ve got going on? What about me, huh? I thought we were friends!”

“And we are! If (y/n) wants anything to do with you, that’s entirely up to her. Wait, hold on – the door just opened. Talk to you later, Kyojuro!”

“Wait, Mitsuri-“

Click.

[scrawnytreedemon]

Can’t sleep, mind going precisely 56 miles an hour, so I think I’ll finally get around to writing this.

Couples days back, I went ahead and finally psyched myself up to do the Zant bossfight.

Because I’d picked up where I’d left off yesterday, which was just before the boss room, obviously I was taken back to the beginning of the area. This gave the whole ordeal a trek, if a short one, what with the Palace of Twilight’s laughable length, and me more time to think.

I didn’t want to do this.

It sounds stupid, but I really didn’t want to do this. I’d cried the day before trying to psych myself up and failing, and I’d cried then, before the boss door, stalling by sweeping away the crystal-fog as best I could-- A meagre attempt at housekeeping, and a futile one. Of course I couldn’t. This isn’t that sort of game. This isn’t a game for failed attempts at kindness, at least trying to clean this awful, awful place for an awful, awful man going through awful, awful things. I was supposed to be a hero.

Heroes don’t make beds.

They don’t wash dishes, or hang laundry, or hold a rival’s hand,

They kill.

The trek didn’t stop past the door, either.

We still had to walk up the stairs. To the throne.

To him.

And I was there, laugh-crying, wishing I didn’t have to. That I could skip this pathetic ordeal.

I tried to turn around and leave.

Despite it only looking like a larger one of the many, many doors we’ve passed through this awful, nonsensical, poorly-designed excuse for a palace that no one could ever live in, it didn’t budge. There wasn’t any turning back. I had to go forward, because this is an action game, and violence is key.

The game takes the reigns. Link walks up to the throne, sword drawn, despite my deliberate decision to sheathe it. The narrative begins again. Midna sneers, and throws a taunt at him.

Zant sits, and smiles. Smiles like he thinks he still has some form of control, or knows full well he’s lost it.

You know, when I was working through the Palace of Twilight, I’d come to the realisation that... Zant locked himself in the throneroom. From the outside. Logistically, despite the good laugh I had over this guy locking himself in from the fucking outside, where his opponents can grab the key, he could get out easily-- teleportation and all. But even that aside, it still spoke to a level of hasty panic, that he would even keep the key outside, behind a waterfall of yet more shitty fog-crytals in the hopes that would deter them. Deter us.

How long had the guy been here, alone in that room?

We all know what happens next. Despite this being my first playthrough, I’ve probably seen this cutscene a dozen times. Zant has what amounts to an overly-dramatised autistic meltdown expositing himself and his motivations. That he was upset and felt like everything he’d worked for had been taken away from him. That he was angry, angry and fed up of being relegated to a half-existence. Midna retorts, Zant wails some more.

What gets me is that, when Ganondorf visits him, engulfs him in this flaming ball of fucked-magical-fuckery, he just. Stares. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t do anything. Ganondorf speaks as though he’s already decided that, yes, you will do, we will make a pact and rule Everything together; I will live on through you.

Did Zant even agree to this?

I think, subconsciously or not, he accepted it, but it begs the question of whether or not Zant was capable enough to partake in it.

Whatever the answer, he’s clearly not capable enough to partake in this. This fight.

It’s laughable, that I’m expected to find victory in this.

The fight was a fucking slog, 90% of the time. Some of these boss-battles I hadn’t played in nearly two years thanks to the impromptu hiatuses I’m so fond of taking, so I didn’t know what the fuck I was meant to be doing half the time-- And when I did, it lagged to shit everytime this poor bastard fired projectiles, because I was playing on the gamepad, because why on earth would I play this on the goddamn TV? It was a sad, pitiful encounter that I had to laugh my way through and also mumble “what the fuck“ on several occasions because I guess somebody at Nintendo ate cheese before bed and the dev team were so desperate to patch something together for this guy’s sudden crisis that they threw it in-- I’m obviously having a good laugh, but What The Fuck.

I knock the guy down in the last phase of the battle, the only one where he isn’t mimicking something else and dizzies himself spinning like a hyperactive child, and the game takes the reigns again. Midna prepares her hair. I look away-- I’ve seen it before, many times before, and it’s cartoonishly grotesque for a game that relies heavily on somber semi-realism. Midna has her own crisis-- And yeah, yeah bossbabe, I feel it.

It cuts back, and there’s a Heart Container on the guy’s throne.

I.

I killed a guy, and now I’m collecting his lifeforce. I stormed into the bunged-up attempt of a fortress conjured up as a last defense by a man who’s fallen head-first into insanity, tore through any meagre security measure like butter, murder the guy when he’s having an episode, he dies a fucked up death, and then I collect his lifeforce.

Is that fucked up or what?

For all of Zelda’s endless violence, rarely do you actually kill “people.“ It’s the kind of stuff reserved for the end, for Ganondorf, or some other corrupted nigh-demigod on the brink of losing their humanity, or never having possessed it.

We kill Zant.

Zant barely puts up a fight, and we kill him. Zant gets summoned from the netherworld by Ganondorf in Hyrule Warriors; we put him there in the first place.

If we were to view this from a literal, like this shit actually happened and these characters are to be held accountable standpoint, then what we did was justified-- If not wholly, then mostly. Zant got power-hungry, committed what amounts to a bio-terroristic coup on the government, disfigured his rival, a woman notorious for her beauty, then proceeded to attempt the same thing with Hyrule, leading to the indirect death of at least the people who got transfigured into Shadow-Beasts in Kakariko, and attacks you first, then yeah, no biggie?

But I’ll be fucking real with you chief, I don’t find it... I don’t know, persuasive? Effective? Compelling, would be the best word, to think of it that way?

What Zant is, is a narrative tool. One that was set up to be this big, bad interloper who you need to Take Down and Save Everything, as per usual Zelda format. The justification for why we should hate him, if I’m going to be honest, feels contrived, most of the time. He does some bad thing off-screen, Midna gets pissed, Midna and everyone within a 12-mile radius explains why we should be pissed in a way that often feels borderline developer-hand-y-- And that’s. Well that’s how Zelda usually is.

It’s justification to commit violence.

--To be clear, I don’t say this in a political sense. I mean it in the very literal “hit/kill a guy“ sense. And in all honesty, that’s kinda inherent to the ethos of action games. We enjoy catharsis-- We enjoy taking down big things, it’s satisfying! I’ve played a little Hyrule Warriors-- Loved the feel of it. Violence is inherent to even the most benign of action games, and it is what it is.

Where it falls short for me, is that with Zant, I don’t feel like I’m taking down some great foe that I should justifiably hate.

I feel like I’m a clearly more equipped person breaking into a room, and bludgeoning a mentally ill person.

I’m autistic. I may slot in easier to NT society than most, but I am autistic, and it makes me deeply uncomfortable to see something I’ve fucking gone through be used carelessly as flavour for a prelude to violence. I have meltdowns. They’re relatively rare, and mostly in my room, alone, but I’ve also experienced one out in public. It was only sobbing, but there’s a special kind of horror, of humilation in knowing other people, strangers, family, what have you, are seeing it, and all you can think is how much you failed.

I can’t fully articulate why I cried so much during this, quite frankly, menial ordeal. I’m half-embarrassed to even talk about it-- Because then that means caring too much, and I can’t care too much over a poorly-justified character that wasn’t even intended to be sympathised with and that most of the fandom laughs at. And I can’t say I blame them.

I guess at the end of the day it comes down to the ever-present pity; some strange, childish commiseration I’d indulged in ever since I was six and cooing over Bowser and how awful everything was for him, that despite my continuous efforts, I can’t ever seem to explain.

I didn’t like the Zant fight. It felt empty,

And all did was sweep cobwebs and try to turn back.

[kariachi]

I have a commission! Which means research which means notes which in this case means liveblogs!

Got one Batman:TAS episode to go through and a few Static Shock ones, so we’re starting with Batman because that’s the property I have the least experience with and will need to percolate in my little brain longer.

~~

How the fuck do the cops in Gotham have a goddamn dirigible for this opener? Are helicopters too loud for the Gotham aesthetic, what the hell?

Actually, actual show time. We’re doing ‘Moon of the Wolf’.

Zoo security guard wandering around with what I have to assume is the most unassuming guard dog on the face of the earth (seriously, is that a fucking labrador?), dog starts growling, man’s immediate response is ‘what is wrong with this dog’ like dude this is your job

I’m thinking if your guard dog is looking to lunge at a jogger going by you need to invest in a new guard dog. I mean we know better as the audience, there’s trouble afoot and the jogger is just wrong place and time, but these fuckers don’t and that should be a red flag.

Welp, that is certainly a werewolf. Very typical ‘big, furry, mannish wolf’ design. The glowy green eyes are a nice touch, and the long pointed ears. I specifically need to note these things because there’s going to be contrast between types of werewolf in this piece and yeah, this is pretty far from my werewolf design from my last SS piece which was more of a ‘wolf stretched over a human framework’ sorta deal. Think I’ll be able to get some good interplay.

No tail, can’t remember if I gave Richie a tail but that’s for the reread I’ll be doing as part of my non-episode research so, just good to note.

Got a bit of a bat-ish look from the angle I’m paused at, with all the teeth seemingly at the front of the mouth and the big ears, the hunched posture. Let’s see if they go anywhere with this...

That dog was here to fight a werewolf right up until he got launched like 30 ft due south. Like ‘yeah fuck the human I’m out‘

I can’t be sure but it looks like this fucker has a sort’ve vaguely ape gait, with the long forelimbs being used in locomotion but it a distinctly ‘I’m not technically a quadruped’ manner...

“No! Stay back! Keep away from me!” Sir what were you expecting that to accomplish? It’s a fucking werewolf.

Batman shows up to fight the werewolf and the look on this thing’s face before he gets kicked in it, like “I’m not here to fight, I just wanna eat a security guard, why can’t I just live my life?”

Also will somebody get this fucker a napkin, drooling all over the place

Yeah, that’s definitely a gorilla-inspired gait, the bat sorta look, still very world with the full werewolf mane, is a nice design

This fucker really just chucked an unconscious man into a river to get him out from underfoot. And Batman immediately dives in to save the guy from drowning, because he does have at least one moral.

Werewolf watches this happen and just leaves. “Well if you’re just gonna fuck off then so will I, so there“

Okay I like this bit right here, Batman having to read a guy’s nametag and being audibly unsure about the whole thing as he addresses him. That’s just fun to see from Mr Always On Top Of Things

“You’re a very lucky fella” Bruce his dog abandoned him, he was attacked by a werewolf, he almost drowned

Bruce, we do not interrupt people, which yes I know a cop is not a people but you seem to think they are so the point still stands. Let Gordon make his call then address him, it’s not like you’re that worried about the werewolf getting somebody else tonight or you’d be tracking it down right now.

“-a mugger in a werewolf mask” Oh Bruce you are in for a week. Also you don’t know it was a mugging. Looking at it even from your limited perspective I’d assume it was a much more serious act you were interrupting. Most muggers don’t knock fuckers unconscious and then pick them up, pick their pockets yeah but that’s like, kidnapping or murder territory. Especially given he then threw the fucker in the river, that does not sound like ‘he’s just a mugger’ to me.

Somebody stole a pair of timber wolves from the zoo. A breeding pair from the looks of it. Looks like either a pair of northern Rocky Mountain wolves or just the largest timber wolves ever born. Honestly just the largest timber wolves ever born either way given the male’s supposedly 175 lbs and the Rocky Mountain ones get up to 150. Female’s 148 and described as ‘medium’ sized. Ya know what, I’m just gonna say these are Dakota timber wolves, because I already write Dakota as being fucking weird.

(Actually have some Dakota-centric ideas in the head which is not good for a week with a commission but who knows, maybe shit’ll get worked in or maybe I’ll just write the Dakota shit later)

Wait no they straight up call then Alaskan timber wolves which makes even less sense because that subspecies only reaches about 100 lbs. So yeah, for the purposes of Achi Writings these are Dakota timber wolves. They’re listed as Alaskan because somebody was defrauding the zoo.

Batman notices he’s covered in fur, waves off his consideration noises with a “just had a disturbing thought, that’s all“. Guys I think Batman thinks somebody made a werewolf suit out the stolen wolves. I mean I doubt he thinks it’s an actual werewolf, though I’m open to being proven wrong.

*gasp* He does think it’s an actual werewolf! I don’t know why he jumped to that conclusion besides “you know what, it’s Gotham, this may as well happen”, but that applies to the ‘somebody stole a pair of wolves, skinned them, turned them into a werewolf costume, and it wearing it while they attack zoo staff’ concept so...

Watch, it turns out I’m right, those are Dakota wolves, Batman’s heard rumors about it and is just like “you know what, I wouldn’t be surprised-”

Batman really dropped the ‘what if he wasn’t wearing a mask’ bombshell and just immediately jumps out the window before Gordon can ask him if he’s finally completely lost his mind.

Ya know I was gonna be concerned for this presumably night watchman but now that I’ve seen his haircut, yeah just eat him

This werewolf is really tearing down a small building to get at this guy. Like I don’t blame you, his hair’s atrocious, but still.

Ah, okay, the man is I presume working with the werewolf. Why you would work with someone with hair like that I don’t know, maybe being a werewolf fucks with your sense of taste.

The transformation is quick but painful, it appears. Also has a timelimit for how long the fucker is wolf, it looks like. Yeah, I don’t think that’ll quite apply for the majority of fic purposes but for early stuff it’s important to know.

Mr Bad Hair, why the fuck did you have a werewolf committing a hit on a security guard? It’s Gotham, you couldn’t have just given some fucking street urchin a quarter to put a bullet in him?

Also it was a fucking murder attempt I was right, though not for the reasons I thought. Up yours, Bat, I’ve outdone ya

I would like to congratulate amateur photographer Bruce Timm for getting a rare photo of Batman in action, getting it in the paper, and being properly credited.

Sir, what is your damage?

‘Anthony Romulus’, gee, I wonder who the werewolf is.

(I do have thoughts in my head of some potential joking around between Virgil and Richie about how on-the-nose the names in places like Gotham are. No promises it’ll get into the work but the idea of Virgil joking about Batman’s real name being Vlad is just too good.)

Werewolf pledging millions to charity in exchange for a Batman encounter. Was already pledging a million just because (*cough*taxbreaks*cough*). Which honestly is better than most rich fucks, but still doesn’t earn him points until I find out how much he’s worth. The richer you are the bigger chunk I expect from you if you’re going to earn any sort’ve points for this shit. Also the charity isn’t given or even described it’s just ‘a local charity’ like dude come on.

Oh my god. I think I’m seeing why this guy is working with Mr Bad Hair. Fucker looks like Ruber from Quest for Camelot! Seriously! His great-something grandson running around getting turned into a werewolf, which honestly seems like something Ruber would approve of.

Man straight up admits he is donating money for tax purposes. Though he’s also talking to Bruce “yeah I’ve got more money than god but I donate it to charities tied to my family” Wayne so... Let’s see if we get any commentary. Come on Bruce.

Ah so he has decided on a charity, the Gotham United Fund. I was concerned maybe he intended to have them fight to the death for the 2.5 million.

Bruce doesn’t look best impressed but also isn’t saying anything. Come on Bruce, use your words. And who’s this chick they’re working out with, do you have a name, miss? You seem nice as one can expect from what I assume is another rich fuck, I don’t wanna have to call you by a silly alias if there’s another option.

No name for Miss Lady so I’ll just be calling her that until I get one.

Bruce is watching a documentary on Alaskan timber wolves. That won’t help, Bruce, they’re clearly from Dakota.

Meanwhile Alfred’s back there fixing up the Batmobile.

Bruce just shuts off the documentary partway through. There could be valuable information in there.

“The hairs check out as genuine wolf hair, but it could just mean shaggy was wearing an extremely fancy mask“ Sir, sir how fancy do you think werewolf masks get? Or are you coming to the ‘he might have skinned the stolen wolves’ theory because it is still very much there for you and very Gotham.

A dozen directions, what directions Bruce? We’ve seen one. Give us at least another.

Bruce being rude to his not-dad. Alfred raised you better than to not say thank you damnit.

Does Ruber II really have a little mini parthenon as a wing of his house? Seriously? Dude tone it the fuck down.

Swear to god it’s like if Ruber’s line bred with the Morningstars...

This man really locking Batman in his house and hitting panic buttons like, sir you know if Batman vanishes people are gonna look at you. And heavens forbid they find wolf hair because the police already have shit going.

‘I’m a busy bat, places to be, crimes to foil, you know how it is’

Batman sitting here fucking sweating, like sir, sir have you noticed you’re locked in? I hope so because otherwise you’re sweating over somebody writing out a check to charity.

Hold up I gotta check something- This motherfucker writing out a check for 2.4 million when he said 2.5, I know he’s probably not intending for it to leave the room but still. Principal of the matter.

Ah, the button did not just double lock everything it also fucked up the air or something. Werewolves are immune to gassing apparently. Wonder if it’s a specific gas or if they like, can’t be put under anesthetic and shit

Okay the werewolf I can get being immune to whatever gas is being used but wtf is up with you Bad Hair?

Milo. Bad Hair’s name is Milo. Honestly I’m tempted to use it because that’s somehow worse, but I don’t respect him enough for that.

Oh, having some regrets Ruber II? Gassing the hero of Gotham after trying to murder some random schmuck?  Luring him in with a promise of millions to charity? No, wait, can’t be that you were talking about tax havens earlier.

Didn’t even bother with the mask, just took off the belt and chained him down as werewolf chow

Serious, what is Bad Hair’s deal? What is his motivation here?

Did you feel this torn up over killing Hamner, Ruber II? Or is ‘supercide’ where you draw the line?

Bad Hair holding a cure to werewolfism over Ruber II’s head. Like, dude you have enough money you know you can just lock yourself away during the full moon or whatever? If you can promise 2.5 mil to charity and are hanging out with Bruce Wayne odds are you can afford to set up a nice little space to spend your wolfy-time in. Talk to Bruce, he’s supposedly a nice guy, would help you find a cure that you don’t have to murder people for.

Remember kiddos, communication is key.

Flashback time

Man really said ‘I want to win so bad I’m gonna go to a mad scientist with the worst hair imaginable and take experimental drugs from him’.

Timber wolf steroids and estrogen. I’ve heard people call werewolves gender goals but this is taking it a bit far.

Ruber II deserves this shit, worse than his grandpa. At least that fucker tested shit on a chicken.

Bad Hair really was plotting werewolf-brand extortion from the start. Why, still no fucking clue

Got turned into a werewolf and still was only marginally better than the competition.

Ah, rich fuck bullshit. As in fucks becoming rich, apparently.

Man threw Bad Hair down a flight of stairs- objectively the right move- for the audacity of expecting payment- I know this is probably supposed to be ‘the werewolfness changed him’ but he’s a rich fuck so come on

Yeah, no way this man earned fame and fortune and won and Olympic class event all in under a month. Man was already rich and just got richer I promise you this.

Please tell me this man did not hear Bad Hair go “I can’t reverse the process but I can complete it“ and decided he would rather be all wolfy rather than like 15% wolfy.

Ruber II please tell me you are not surprised to find out the weird wolf shit turned you into a werewolf while you are standing there covered in fur and with sharp teeth and claws and pointy ears.

Man claims advanced werewolfism can be cured and this fuck just rolls with it again. Takes longer to decide but still just fucking rolls with it. Like, sir please. At least take a week to think on it, you may find out you like this shit.

End flashback

At least make him prove it is an antidote rather than just like, some super lycanthropy potion.

Oh look, it’s Hamner again. Hey dude. We gonna find out why people want you dead?

Okay is this another flashback or did somebody return the wolves? Also those are definitely not normal wolves.

Oh look, a cop. Hi cop. Do me a favor and look after this guy, I like him out of spite.

Why am I not surprised to find a Gotham City cop is going immediately to police brutality and threats of murder in the dead of night against a suspect. Why did I even dare to hope for a brief instant that maybe this show was trying to not pull that shit so much.

I know Officer Ass isn’t gonna get eaten or his head caved in but damnit I can dream. In fact I can make it happen. I am writer hear me roar. Officer Harvey Bullock, I’ve got your number

So Hamner took a couple grand in exchange for letting the wolves get stolen and then apparently returned and presumably was being killed as a witness.

You really gonna get pissed when the guy says for all he know the dude who paid him coulda been you? When you were just threatening to feed him to wolves for the crime of letting the wolves be briefly stolen? Yeah Officer Ass gets to die. Probably not on screen ‘cause I got thoughts in my head, but he’s getting eaten by a werewolf.

Come on, eat Bad hair

‘I’m going to taunt this werewolf and then stand there with the antidote in my head talking shit as he transforms- No wait, why are you attacking me?’

Bad Hair just because a shed dropped on him doesn’t mean you don’t wanna run

Bruce got himself free because of course, just before being attacked. Bad Hair, meanwhile, is pretending to be dead.

Cops in this city just assholes who can’t follow direction

Struck by lightning and fallen into the fucking river, what a way to get taken out.

Okay, so Bad Hair is alive and being taken to hospital, what about our fluff Ruber II?

“No trace of wolfie, we checked the shoreline for miles. But it four weeks there’s another full moon, then we’ll know for sure.” I’m- I’m sorry are they not even going to look for a body? Because it really sounds like the position here is ‘either this guy is alive and will attack in another month at which point we’ll handle it, or he’s dead in the river in which case fuck him our job is done’. Like, who sees somebody get struck by lightning, fall into a river and then just checks the shoreline for them? Even a monster, you’d at least want to trawl up the corpse!

It’s nice to have confirmation he’s not dead there at the end, but still. Nothing about Bruce’s reaction, I mean they knew each other? And we’re just gonna leave the PD being, that?

Officer Ass has to go. Other than that, I think I can play around with some shit here.

[crystalkleure]

I have a Concept.

BeyBurst beyblades are supposed to burst. As in, it’s actually a necessity. In spite of the Exploding Beyblade mechanic potentially causing sharp little bits of spintop to go flying everywhere and hit people, what if it’s actually a safety feature?

If I recall correctly, all the way back in s1 territory [specifically in the manga though, can’t remember if we saw it in the anime or not], Valt and Shu just straight-up got their original beys from a store. And there are also all of those Unimportant Characters running around with different-coloured versions of preexisting beys. This indicates that beyblades are, in fact, mass-produced and sold in stores, and those are all built to be able to burst. In fact, I still haven’t seen the newest two seasons of the Burst anime yet, but I’m pretty sure super special fancy custom beys, that some important character explicitly made themself, that have some really creative [and strong] anti-burst features built into them, don’t ever show up as NPC recolour beys? In spite of the trend of “random background characters in new season use recoloured versions of Prominent Character beys from LAST season” to me seeming to indicate that those new recolour beys are either bootleg copycats, or those actual official shelf models have just suddenly started selling really well, due to someone having just recently done something cool with one in a tournament/on TV lol. [Anyway, correct me if I’m wrong on which beys get NPC recolours, I don’t exactly actually, uh, pay attention to all the random background scrubs. That point’s not particularly important anyway because I’m sure unofficial bootlegs are a thing that exists, mmmm delicious plagiarism. The point is the stores seem to sell beys with the normal level of burstability. And so I’m only caring about the everyday random NPCs with no names or anything, if another important character specifically goes and painstakingly recreates a bey similar or identical to another important character’s bey just because they idolize that other character, that doesn’t count. That’s not important here, implication-wise.] So...

What if it’s actually a really bad thing that people keep making their own custom beys now that are increasingly more and more ludicrously difficult -- or even near-impossible -- to burst?

What if the self-destruct mechanic is intended to be an emergency shutdown switch, and actually really needs to not be subverted? We’ve seen what an adept beyblader can do while running at full-throttle -- they’re dangerous, to themselves and their surroundings. Beys have the power to be obscenely destructive...while they’re spinning and battling, primarily. They are by far the most potent while actively in use. But if they hit things too hard like 3-4 times or so...they burst. Their locks disengage, they fall apart, and thus they are forced to abruptly stop. That makes them theoretically incapable of just rampaging indefinitely.

Picture this: One day, in the probably-decently-distant history of the BeyBurst world, a kid has a spintop. Probably made that spintop themself. This kid, it turns out, happens to be one of the Super Special Powerful Kids, who’s not only REALLY GOOD at using that spintop, they also possess that funny little supernatural ability to accidentally create an incredibly powerful incorporeal monster ghost creature thing with their brain. And because they love playing with their little spintop so much, that spintop becomes the vessel for this Terrifying Monster-Shaped Culmination Of Spiritual Elemental Energy or whatever that they’ve manifested. That’s...good, probably, because at least that means the Scary Monster Thing isn’t 1. just stuck in the kid’s brain with nowhere else to go, which would lead to possession that would decidedly be incredibly difficult to deal with without harming the kid, or 2. funneled into something more dangerous to control, like a car or a nuclear warhead or some shit. But then it turns out that the kid is ABSOLUTELY still able to wreak impressive havoc and cause Large Amounts Of Destruction, even accidentally...until the spintop stops spinning. The Power Level drops dramatically as soon as the demon top is still, and it takes a little while for it to build back up once it’s launched again. But what if a feature is implemented into the spintop that allows it to keep spinning for much, much longer? Or just The Supernatural Monster Power itself becomes capable of sustaining it, through wind manipulation or something?

Now, imagine you’re idk, the government or something, someone with Power and Influence over the masses, and you see THAT happen. Shit, that was just a random kid that did that! Looked like any other kid, acted like any other kid! There is no feasible way to tell a kid with Brain Monster potential apart from other kids who are NOT That Powerful, until a brain monster happens. So, if you can’t predict it, and thus can’t do anything to mitigate the potential destruction on a case-by-case basis...well, how about you convince ALL the little kiddies that spintops are just the greatest thing ever, everyone should play with spintops, AND you ensure those spintops are mass-manufactured specifically to not be able to Hold A Charge for too long because...they burst! You’ve designed them so that violence itself causes them to fall apart and stop to cool down! It’s perfect! That way, anytime an odd mutant child with Brain Monster powers comes along, the chance of them funneling their Brain Monster into their spintop is now Very High, meaning that all the Brain Monsters will hopefully end up inhabiting these little plastic toys that actively inhibit them instead of possessing children or nukes. It’s brilliant!

This does raise some questions, though:

1. What happens when someone’s spintop breaks, and they DON’T get it repaired, after they’ve already manifested a Brain Monster to live in it? Where would the Brain Monster go in that case? Uh oh, demon on the loose? Exactly what we were trying to avoid? Shu’s change between Legend Spriggan and Spriggan Requiem in God does seem to indicate that the Brain Monster probably 1. by default, does just camp out in its blader’s brain until a new Spintop Vessel is created for it, and 2. the Brain Monster itself is probably not actually completely strictly sealed into any bey, because it doesn’t disappear as soon as the bey is destroyed, and it doesn’t stay with an old/broken bey that’s been discarded when a new bey has been made for it. Legend Spriggan was discarded and left on the riverbed, and Spriggan Requiem was then made from scratch, seemingly using no recycled physical parts from Legend Spriggan, but Spriggan Requiem’s bitbeast looks only very slightly different from Legend Spriggan’s. All of Shu’s Spriggans are honestly probably still the same creature, just progressively evolved. I don’t think we’ve ever seen somebody make an entirely NEW Brain Monster that does not resemble their original one, it seems the original simply gets developed more and more. One person apparently only possesses the ability to make a single individual Brain Monster. You Get One (1), but you can upgrade it. But what about Hearts? His Dead Hades, which very much had a Brain Ghost in it, was not only destroyed, but assimilated into Phi’s Revive Phoenix, to make Dead Phoenix. What happened to that situation, over time? We haven’t gotten to see. Is Hearts’ Hades truly actually fused with Phi’s Phoenix, ceasing to be its own entity anymore, or does Phoenix simply very slightly resemble Hades now due to its bey being upgraded with physical bits of Hades’ bey? What if it’s not even POSSIBLE to truly fuse Brain Ghosts, especially without consent? In which case...is Hades itself just lingering around back in Hearts’ brain, waiting for a new bey to inhabit, and Hearts isn’t making one because he doesn’t realize Hades isn’t just Part Of Phoenix now? That sounds potentially dangerous, there’s no more outlet for your Brain Ghost, buddy. I want to see Phi and Hearts again, to know what eventually happened there.

2. Why do the tournaments not actually enforce a rule that says “Your bey HAS to be able to be reasonably burstable”? Chouzetsu Wings and the Mugen Lock System did not equal disqualifications. Has it maybe, over time, been forgotten exactly WHY we Need Beys To Burst? Well, that’s a ticking time bomb, then. How difficult a bey is to burst does seem to directly cause its Potential Destructiveness Levels to scale accordingly. [With somewhat of an exception of Pot and his Pegasus, but it should be noted that Pot was not exactly terribly serious about beyblade initially and yet was STILL considered one of the strongest ‘bladers in the world, GT3 iirc, AND he’s very into the whole “Love and light, chillax, be in-tune with yourself and all the energy in and around you, etc.” peaceful thing.] This HAS To Be A Problem. Why is nobody concerned.

3. ...What is causing the general public not to panic about this? Why are people okay with Brain Ghost and Mass Spintop Destruction happening, instead of terrified? This shit is broadcast on TV. The stands during tournaments are packed with spectators. It may be that perhaps not everybody can SEE the Brain Ghosts themselves [and I’m skeptical about that, because there have absolutely been MANY indications that other people know what someone’s bitbeast looks like], but the Big Bada Booms they cause are DAMN sure Highly Visible. Aiga’s father seems to be the only one truly properly concerned about the incredible mass-destructive potential of the spintops. Realistically, The Salem With Trials 2: Electric Boogaloo should be happening due to the Scary Spintop Kids being Fucking Scary, and sometimes quite clearly even out-of-control of themselves.

Unfortunately, I’m pretty sure this is not a direction canon will ever go in, or I think it would have already done it. I don’t think they’re going to explore this route. It’s a shame I don’t have the chops for writing long-haul fanfiction, because if I did I would absolutely be hardcore capitalizing on this idea. This has incredible Worldbuilding Lore Potential.

[danny-chase]

Dick Grayson Week Day 4

Prompt: Bruce hits Dick and doesn’t get away with it

Summary/Notes:

A Spyral fixit where the family finds out about Nightwing 30. Perspectives are from Tim and Jason, but Steph, Cass, and Damian make an appearance. Quotes taken from Forever Evil 7 and 8, and Nightwing 30. Tw for swearing, angst and domestic/child abuse (because canon is terrible and I can’t leave it the way it is).

Edit: I have an AO3 account now yay! Read here

“I’ll be right back.” Tim chirped as he left to pull some files out of his room. He could feel his friends’ gazes lingering on him as he left. He had to suppress an eye roll. He was fine. Your pseudo-dad/adopted-father-before-you-emancipated-yourself loses his memory and suddenly everyone thinks there’s something wrong with you. Figures. Bruce was happier this way. And maybe, one day, he’d be able to get to know him again. Maybe not as sorta-father and son. But Bruce 2.0 liked volunteering with kids, running charity events. Maybe they could be business partners, or coworkers. It wasn’t like last time. But that didn’t mean Cassie, Bart and Kon weren’t worried. No matter how many times he tried to explain, they wouldn’t listen. It was better this way. Bruce was happier without them. Without him. It stung at first sure, but he was over it. He could handle it. Even if the knot in his stomach told him otherwise.

His fingers brushed the lines on the hallway as he strode through Titan’s Tower. The halls seemed so much smaller than they used to be. Logically, he knew they were the same size. But they weren’t the same walls as when he’d first visited. And those hadn’t even been the first wall either. “We’ve had to rebuild this place like at least a million times.” Dick had told him. The knot tightened. Don’t think about it, he reprimanded himself. He’d been having a nice afternoon. It was relaxing, staying with his friends. But he couldn’t walk through the halls without feeling like a trespasser. This was Dick’s team. This was his home away from home. Who was he kidding? He was no Dick Grayson. Dick’s friends used to look to him for guidance, for advice, for help with problems, personal and business related. Tim used to look to him for guidance, advice and help. Stop thinking about him, he tried again. Forget the Crime Syndicate. Forget the funeral. Don’t stress, repress. He paused for a moment, stared aimlessly out the window, took a few deep breaths, cleared his mind and continued on his way.

Climbing the stairs, he decided it was better to use his mental faculties to go through the case he was working on. Jason had called two days ago asking about some of his old informants in Gotham, Penguin was apparently moving back onto the scene and reorganizing the structure of some of the newer gangs. Cleaning house. Informants were switching names, following their own protocols. Bruce had written some contingency in a classified file somewhere. The issue was where. The damn batcomputer had like a billion files on it. And Barbara knew the system, but was busy coordinating for the JLA and had put them on “Do not Disturb” mode for the foreseeable future. He could write a program to search for it. Stupid Bruce and his stupid files that he’d kept secret from them. “It was on a need to know basis.” He could almost here the defensiveness in Bruce’s voice if he tried hard enough. He nearly face planted as he miscalculated the number of stairs. Maybe they should just go back to their old Young Justice base. Or wait till the building inevitably explodes again and just make it better. That would be fun. Designing a Teen Titans base with slides and escalators. Bart would be thrilled. Bart could probably build it in 5 minutes. Dick wouldn’t approve, his brain felt the need to remind him. Tim nearly huffed. Well Dick is de-.

He abruptly lost his train of thought. There was noise coming from his room. Someone was sniffing, was someone crying in his room? Who was even in his room? Everyone was downstairs. Cissie and Steph were visiting in the lounge, Greta left a few days ago, the new kids were in the gym getting a feel for the equipment. The hell? His heart pounded a bit louder as he silently slunk towards his rooms. If Dick decided to haunt him from beyond the grave this was not cool. The lights flickered. Tim nearly screamed. He could feel cold sweat gathering in his palms, his heart racing, thoughts pounding in his skull. It’s just one of Bart’s pranks, no one can get in without access. He slid next to his door and pulled up the camera feed on his glove’s embedded computer. They weren’t in lockdown, but it couldn’t hurt to check. Few clicks here, few taps there and…Damian? Tim burst through the door, half relieved and fully confused.

“What are you doing here?” Tim half yelled, Damian startling on the bed as he burst into his room. Tim flicked the lights on as the gremlin crossed his arms in response. Tim shut the soundproof door, no need to bother Kon with this.

“I was given access to the tower as well.” He stated monotonously. Tim frowned; something was off. Damian didn’t just show up in his room. Come to think of it, he hadn’t seen the kid in weeks. Not since Bruce went all amnesiac on them. Where was he even staying. Damian shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. There were dark circles under his eyes, he was paler than usual, but flushed, his eyes bright. Had he been crying in here? “Quit gawking at me, Drake.” He spat, jolting Tim back into reality.

He almost opened his mouth to throw some insult back. Almost. He saw the kid’s lip tremble just so slightly, and he bit his tongue. The kid’s hands were shaking. “What’s up?” He replied cautiously. Keeping the demon brat in line wasn’t in his job description. But the kid had had a rough couple months. Dying, coming back to Dick being dead, Bruce losing his memory. He could help with whatever this was and-

“Grayson is alive.”

-send the kid back to Alfred, he knew the kid better than he did. He had his pets at the manor to keep him company, maybe he’d see if Jon would be willing to have a sleepover or something. Spring break was coming up soon, maybe he could take a trip out to Kansas-

“Drake!” Damian was waving a hand in front of his face. Tim blinked a few times. He hadn’t said…had he? That wasn’t right Dick was-

“Richard is alive, I can prove it.” There was desperation in the kid’s voice, water in his eyes. The trash can was filled with tissues, it had been empty when he left. His shirt was on inside out. Tim inhaled sharply. Fuck. Tim had been there. He’d done that. Denied reality. Gone on a wild fairy tale goose chase. Chased insane dreams. Sure, it had worked. But this was different. They had a body. We had a body then, his mind helpfully supplied. There was no real evidence. It had worked hadn’t it? Denying Bruce’s death out of reality? But Dick couldn’t be alive. Bruce had seen him die. Clark saw Bruce die, his brain again helpfully supplied. Tim studied Damian’s face carefully. He looked two steps away from a mental breakdown. Was that how I looked? He wasn’t exactly looking in any mirrors at the time. Dick had try to talk him back down, that was the wrong move. He’d doubled down. But Damian wasn’t him and Tim had no idea what to do. Damian stared at him, studying his face carefully. Tim could feel his palms sweating again, when had he started clenching his fists? His brain was ticking through options, tell Damian he believed him – high chance of heartbreak, low chance of kid running off and doing something stupid on his own. Try and talk him down – still some heartbreak, but can mitigate, medium to high chance of him running off. Call Alfred – should he really do that though? The kid came to him. Alfred’s busy dealing with amnesiac Bruce. Call someone else? Why did the kid come to him in the first place? Damian hated him, he wouldn’t come to him unless he was really sure, or really desperate. Does he think I can replicate what happened with Bruce? Time seemed to move like molasses. Tim swallowed. Now or never.

“I believe you.” He replied. Damian’s eyebrows furrowed, but his shoulders fell ever so slightly, and he rocked back on his heels, uncrossing his arms and leaning into a less defensive stance. Mixed results. He prayed he sounded convincing enough. If he was going this route, he had to go all the way. It didn’t matter that he’d seen the body. It didn’t matter that Bruce saw. He needed to be on Damian’s side with this one. Just like he’d needed somebody on his side back then. Even if it was a crazy side. Even if it was a leave everyone behind and run around on a whim side. Even if it doesn’t work out, at least the kid would have someone to catch him at the end. Why did it have to be the brat though?

“You do not. But you will.” Damian said solemnly, a bit of an edge to his voice. He pulled a laptop out of a bag on the floor and hopped up on the foot of Tim’s bed. Tim quietly settled next to him, careful to not touch him. He was careful. The kid didn’t appear to be looking for a fight, but you never know. Tim glanced at the laptop screen.

“DAMIAN NO WHAT THE-” He screamed. Damian nearly leapt of the bed. His face turned red.

“-tt- Grow up Drake, this is for research purposes only, that is not-” He started mumbling.

“You’re on DICK GRAYSON THIRST POST WEBSITES for RESEARCH!” Tim half screamed, attempting to lower his voice. Damian flushed harder.

“SHUT UP DRAKE!” He countered. Tim took deep breaths. Dear god, he needed to bleach his eyes after this. He did not need to know these threads existed. Fucking reddit. Humanity has gone too far. There were 20k followers. He peeked over again, the latest posts were from this morning. His mouth was dry. These people were lusting over his dead brother. It was sick, it was fucking disgusting it was-

“Wait what’s that picture?” Tim asked.

“-tt- If you would allow me to explain instead of losing your head, I can show you.” Damian grumbled. He clicked on the picture to enlarge it. “I’ve run the calculations, biometrically, the body shape is a 99.97% match.” Tim let out a low whistle. It wasn’t much to go on. You couldn’t see the figure’s face, he was turned away from the camera. Whoever took it was definitely aiming for a certain portion of the man’s body.

“Have you talked to the poster?” Tim inquired. Damian nodded.

“This subreddit is dedicated to…” Damian made a revolted looking face, “capturing casual images of Grayson in unsavory positions.” He nearly squirmed as he finished the sentence. “I was attempting to research the details of Grayson’s perceived passing and came across this website.” That was a different kind of trauma in Tim’s opinion. “The image caught my eye. He has fans in Ireland, that is where it was taken. These fans are apparently experts at picking him out.” Damian scrolled through some earlier posts to prove his point. “It is odd.” He added pointedly. Tim’s mind was racing. It was hardly evidence. It could have been anyone. But he was right. The perverts were good. They even had a few of Dick in disguise doing undercover work, none of his face of course. But Dick couldn’t be in Ireland. Tim went to the funeral. Bruce went to the funeral. Bruce saw Dick die. Bruce wouldn’t lie about something like that. He never told you about the Joker. His mind supplied. No. Bruce wouldn’t. Bruce couldn’t. He wouldn’t put them through that grief. Not after Damian. Not after all the lies. He promised he wouldn’t lie to them like that. The picture couldn’t be real. But Damian kept scrolling. There were more. In multiple countries. It couldn’t be possible. There was no way. People joked his brother’s butt was iconic but this was ridiculous.

“Drake?” Damian sounded so cautious. Tim was confused. The pictures all looked so real. So accurate. Could they be photoshopped? That could explain it.

“Did you get any of the original files?” He asked much too hastily to appear calm. A smile flicked on Damian’s face for a millisecond.

“You believe me.” Damian stated, half disbelievingly. Tim bit his lip. He didn’t want to. He couldn’t. If he did, then he didn’t believe Bruce. Damian cleared his throat. “I have already examined a few of the original photographs. Their phones were laughably easy to hack.” He looked smug for a mentally unhinged eleven-year-old. “They do not appear to be tampered with.” Tim could feel his heart thudding in his chest. Dick couldn’t be alive. It wasn’t possible. He saw the body. Bruce was in the cave for a week going over it. Not allowing anyone in. No… Fuck…

“What did you do?” He muttered under his breath. Damian looked at him inquisitively, a determination burning in his eyes. Tim hadn’t seen any of the proof himself. And he believed Bruce unquestioningly. That was the opposite of what the man had taught him. But there was still something off. He looked searchingly at Damian. “Dick wouldn’t do that to us.” He couldn’t. Dick would never do something like that. He would tell them. He wasn’t like Bruce, he was reliable. Dick didn’t keep secrets like that. He wouldn’t fake his own death and leave them to fend for themselves. Not after Damian died. After everything they’d lost, after everything he’d lost. Dick wouldn’t do that to him. Damian’s eyes flickered toward the ground, and he frowned.

“Maybe he can’t tell us.” Is all he had to offer. It seemed like a sore spot. Tim didn’t push it. It was probably driving the kid insane. Dick, galivanting across the world, not checking in, not coming back to tell them he was okay? The odds were astronomically low. Dick was a constant. He was their brother. He was a Robin. Robins don’t do that to each other. Steph did, his brain helpfully supplied. But that wasn’t Steph’s fault. Tim dug his nails into his palms. He needed to know. He needed proof. He needed to see the footage, go over the evidence. He didn’t doubt Dick, but his mind was itching. He wouldn’t be able to sleep unless he knew for sure. Hell, Damian probably couldn’t either.

“Look, here’s the plan.” Tim said, his mind racing. Damian stared at him intently. Wow the kid really was desperate if he was willing to listen to him. “I’ll tell Kon I’m taking you home, that you need some help on a case, then will slip out. Maybe, maybe someone close to the family is compromised.” He said, a bit unsure. That could explain the lie. If there was one. Please let there be one. Damian nodded, stuffing his laptop back into his backpack. Tim crossed the room and grabbed the door handle.

A barely audible “Thanks.” reached his ears as he flipped off the lights.

  Jason groaned as he checked his messages. He really didn’t want to go through the batcomputer files. It would be faster if Tim did it, plus he had a lower chance of accidentally messing something up. Not that the file system wasn’t already a disaster. Touch the wrong button and you’re locked in the cave till Alfred realizes something’s wrong.

Tim had stopped responding to his messages two days ago, and well, he couldn’t wait any longer. And so, he found himself zipping through the tunnel systems that led into the cave. It was better to avoid the manner if possible. Happy Bruce wasn’t high on the list of people he wanted to see. That dude was fucking weird. It made him feel weird. It did feel good to cross amnesia off his yearly family bingo though. Now he just needed someone to trip during an interview and he’d break Cass’s winning streak. At the rate they were checking things off, maybe he should start a second batch and make it biannual. That or change the prompts. They were getting predictable.

He rolled to a stop inside the cave, and nearly rolled his eyes seeing the mess of skid marks on the floor. Seriously, tires are expensive, why his siblings couldn’t park like normal human beings was beyond him.

Someone was clacking away on the upper platform. Oh, thank God Tim was probably here, figuring it out before he could mess everything up. Cass poked her head over the railing, Jason cocked an eyebrow at her as he removed his helmet. She grinned and jumped over it, catching the fireman’s pole and sliding down. Someone was going to break an ankle doing that, could he add that to the bingo cards? Stupid non-work related injury was already on there, maybe upgrading it to stupid broken bone would suffice. Dick broke his nose outside Denny’s at 3am last year during a post mission party. Hands down one of the best nights of Jason’s life. Too bad his family members decided to die at least once a year.

“I’m about to win bingo.” Cass whispered as she brushed past his shoulder. That jolted Jason out of his bittersweet thoughts.

“Bullshit.” He growled back, bingo was his this year. She smugly wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

“Sorry brother.” She said sweetly, leaning her head into his shoulder. She let out a long sigh. And then Jason finally remembered that it most the squares weren’t exactly fun.

“Wait, the fuck’s going on?” Fuck, he really didn’t want to deal with this right now. Nobody could have died Dick checked that off, amnesia was gone, Gotham destroyed was gone, natural disaster was checked, Joker breaks out and does dramatic shit was gone too. But that wasn’t a good sigh, that was a ‘I’m so tired of this family sigh’, which could narrow it down a bit. Cass squeezed his shoulder.

“Family secrets.” She admitted, giving him a melancholy look. Jason groaned. This family was the fucking worst. Bruce wasn’t even really part of it right now, who the hell was keeping secrets? Damian. Had to be Damian. Little monster was just like his dad. Fuck. Dick taught the kid better than that. What kind of mess was he in?

Cass took him by the wrist and started dragging him towards the stairs. He resisted briefly as they got to the base. He needed to know. “Who’s is it?” He asked, planting his feet on the ground.

Cass bit her lip, looking extremely uncomfortable. Jason pulled back his arms and crossed them, keeping his expression as neutral as he could, but she could probably read his mood anyways.

“HA. HAHAHA HA. FUCK YOU BRUCE! TAKE THAT SHIT-COMPUTER!”

Jason nearly jumped out of his skin at Tim’s screeching from upstairs, Cass was running up the stairs, not waiting to see if he was coming. Jason sighed. It was going to be on of those days. He took a deep breath and headed up behind her.

Tim was doing a victory dance in front of the computer. Damian was crawling out from under the computer, a shit eating grin on his face. They both looked (and smelled) a mess. Definitely neither had showered in a few days, probably hadn’t slept either.

“Todd, you are just in time to witness our victory over father.” Damian greeted, formal as ever. The brat didn’t even through an insult in there. Must be in a good mood. Well that at least explained who was keeping secrets. Stupid Bruce, keeping secrets even while an amnesiac. Screw him.

“Shall we?” Tim asked, offering a hand to Damian, which shockingly the kid took. The fuck did he miss?!?

“Uh, what the fuck?” He managed to get out. There was cowl footage pulled up on the screen. Cass was pulling chairs over from the table. He tiredly took the seat she offered him.

“Waaaaiiiiiit I have popcorn!” Steph called, pounding down the stairs.

“Steph no!” Tim moaned. “This isn’t a joke!”

“What’s family drama without popcorn?” Steph sung back. Damian huffed. Cass snickered. Jason had to smirk to himself. Dark humor was the best coping mechanism in this family. “Besides you haven’t told us what this is!” She accused. Well at least Jason wasn’t the only one who didn’t know. Tim shifted guilty at the computer, his eyes darting from Damian and then back to the group. Damian responded by huffing and crossing his arms.

“Drake did not ‘want to get your hopes up’.” He began, mimicking Tim’s voice perfectly, “-tt-His concern is unfounded, my research has been impeccable, Gr-” Tim shoved a hand over Damian’s mouth. Damian looked downright murderous.

“Look we want to watch the footage beforehand it might be-” Tim squawked as Cass lunged off the table, hopped over his shoulders and hit play on the batcomputer. “Cass wait!” He got out as the video began to play. Steph grabbed Tim from behind and dragged him into a seat.

The screen showed footage from a first-person perspective, they were walking through a doorway into a large room.

“I’m tired of secrets.” Muttered Cass as she slipped in a chair next to Steph. Damian staid standing, glaring intensely at the screen, looking strangely anguished.

“Hey, kid you can…” The invitation died in his throat. The camera moved forward into the room, revealing a beaten Dick Grayson in the center, hooked to countless machines, suspended in a metal cocoon, only his face and chest peeking out.

“Oh my God.” Came a familiar voice from the screen. A growl reverberated in the cave.

“Well Batman…” Luthor materialized on the right, “…You’ve found Nightwing.” He said, stalking forward.

Something clattered on the floor. The camera was rushing forward. Voices from the cave mixed with voices on the screen.

“Why would you want to watch this!?” shrieked Steph.

“Dick? Everything’s going to be all right. I’m here.” Bruce’s gruff voice sounded oddly strained.

“Shut up Brown!” Came Damian in a high-pitched voice.

“He never showed us the evidence.” Tim’s voice squeaked. “We have to watch till the end?”

“I’m sorry I shut you out. All of you. I didn’t want you getting hurt…I’m going to get you out of this.” Came Bruce’s shaking voice. Jason could feel a lump growing in his throat. He didn’t want to see this.

“Fast-forward?” Cass suggested, her voice equally shaken. Jason could barely see the others in the cave, his eyes were glued to the screen.

“No…You need to…leave.” Came Dick’s horse whisper of a voice. “You need to go…”

Damian made an inhuman noise, which allowed Jason to tear his eyes off the screen.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Muttered Tim. “We can’t fast-forward we need to know what happened.” He forced a sense of determination into his voice. “This is why I didn’t-”

THOOM. The sound rumbled through the cave. Jason jumped out of his seat. The camera whipped around revealing the exit sealed off, with Luthor, Selina, and Bizzarro trapped inside.

“-you guys can still leave.” Tim said shakily.

BA-DEEP. Blared through the speakers. BA-DEEP.

“What is that?” Came Selina’s voice, her usual smooth and silky persona dropped. BA-DEEP.

“It’s a countdown. This isn’t just a fancy pair of handcuffs, Catwoman. It’s a bomb.” Came Lex’s gruff voice. The camera turned again showing a timer counting down from 5 minutes. Jason’s stomach painfully twisted at the reminder of another countdown in another sealed building.

“We’re staying.” He managed to get out. He might have heard noises of affirmation.

WHAM. “The door. The walls. Why can’t we break through them?” Came Luthor’s voice.

“This cell was designed to hold Doomsday, Luthor.” Came Bruce’s voice again. The camera showed him messing with the panel. BA-DEEP.

“Is the countdown monitoring his heart?” Selina asked from seemingly far away.

“Yes.” Boomed Bruce’s voice. BA-DEEP.

“Why?” Replied Selina.

“The detonator is hooked into it.” Bruce responded. Jason’s heart sunk. “He died in a death trap. There was no way out.” Bruce had told him before the funeral. BA-DEEP.

“Batman…The bomb…” Dick whispered. BA-DEEP. Jason spared another glance at Damian. There were tears beginning to form in his eyes, but he stared, glued to the screen all the same. “…It only disams…If my heart stops.” Jason could feel his chest tightening painfully. “I die…or we all die.” BA-DEEP.

“Maybe Bruce had a reason for not showing this to us.” Steph said shakily. Jason glanced over. She looked green. Her sleave and eyes were both wet. The sounds of the heart monitor echoed in the cave.

BA-DEEP. “Please…Listen to me…” Dick’s horse voice started again. Tim was muttering frantically to himself. “You still have time to get yourself out of here.” The camera was so close. Jason could see every cut on his brother’s face, could see the sweat on his brow, the blood trickling down from his nose.

BA-DEEP. “I am not leaving you, Dick. I am not abandoning you.” Bruce sounded much more confident that Jason felt. Too bad Bruce didn’t sound confident.

“You aren’t Bruce. And you never have.” Dick replied. Jason’s vision was blurring. All he wanted was some stupid computer files. He didn’t come to the cave to watch this.

BA-DEEP. “The only way we’re getting out of here is together…No…The wires…” Jason dug his fingernails into his palms. “…Every time I disconnect a relay, it fixes itself.” Jason bit his lip.

BA-DEEP. At some point those in the caves had gone silent. “Then there’s only one way to disarm this bomb, Batman.” Came Luthor’s voice. The video jolted violently and Bruce’s cry reverberated through the cave. Chaos erupted on the screen. A cacophony associated with their customary brand of violence echoed through the speakers, obscuring some of the voices.

BA-DEEP. “I’m saving our lives.” Jason made out. The screen was black. Jason glanced around the room. Everyone was tense. Damian was crying. Tim looked horrified. Cass was perfectly still, her expression blank. Steph looked one step away from throwing up in the empty popcorn bowl that lie on the ground at her feet.

BA-DEEP. The camera was moving again. “LUTHOR.” Boomed Bruce’s voice again. Jason caught a glimpse of the man pressing a hand over Dick’s face. “LUTHOR, YOU HURT HIM AND I WILL KILL YOU.” Cass let out the faintest gasp. Bruce wasn’t lying. How the hell was Luthor still alive? The heart monitor was stuttering. BA-DEEEEEP

“Nonononononononononono.” Came Tim’s voice. “It wasn’t supposed to-”

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

“DICK.” Screamed Bruce. The camera rushed forward.

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

“NO!” Yelled Bruce and Tim at the same time. Damian had sunk to the floor.

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

A fist kept pounding Luthor in the face relentlessly. “Batman, wait-” Luthor pleaded. This was not how Jason had wanted Bruce to break his code.

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

“YOU MURDERER!” Screeched Bruce, righteous fury echoing in his voice. The heart monitor cut off. A hand reached down to cut off Luthor’s windpipe.

“I have this…” Came Luthor’s strangled voice. He looked terrified. “Under control…Grayson…” The hand squeezed harder. “-kk-!” The man chocked. Bruce lessened up slightly. “It’s not too late, you idiot.” Spat Luthor. Bruce was apparently passed the point of listening.

“YOU MURDERED NIGHTWING.” He growled, tightening his grip once more. Luthor was going bug eyed. The man was going to actually die if Bruce pushed it much harded.

“Batman-” Came Selina’s voice.

“Luthor killed Dick, Selina.” Bruce said, his voice strangled.

“You said this lightning rod was from the future! Maybe we can use it to save him or something? I don’t know-!” She cried desperately.

A flash of light and crackle of electricity resounded through the cave. The screen went black for a moment.

Jason could hear metal clinking on the floor.

“Why are we still watching this?” Jason asked hoarsely. Tim looked at him palely.

“I need to know what happened next.” He whispered.

“If I hadn’t stopped Grayson’s heart, this ‘Murder Machine’ would have detonated and we all would have died. I had to make a choice, Batman. I made him flatline…after I forced him to swallow a cardioplegia pill.” The camera slowly tilted back up to focus on Luthor.

“A what?” Asked Steph and Selina at the same time.

“A drug that paralyzes the cardiac muscles surrounding the heart.” Replied Tim and Bruce in sync.

“Then…” Trailed off Damian. The boy looked up hopefully at the screen.

“And if this boy’s heart doesn’t get a shot of adrenaline right this very second he’s going to stay dead.” Luthor finished.

*kaff*

That small cough was the best sound Jason had heard in his entire life.

“YES!” Shouted Tim.

Damian swallowed. “As I expected.” He said shakily. No one called him out on it.

“Dick?” Came Bruce’s voice from the screen.

“Batman?” Dick’s wobbly voice whispered.

Cass tackled Steph into a bear hug, and Steph laughed widely as they clattered to the floor. Jason just sighed deeply and let his head drop into his hands in relief.

“Drake-” gasped Damian, “-get off.”

“You were right! Damian was right! Dick’s alive. HAHA Dick’s ALIVE!” Jason glanced up to see Tim squeezing the crap out of Damian who was going slightly blue in the face. There were words coming from the speakers still but they fell to the wayside in the celebration. Jason walked over and turned the volume down.

“I’m going to kill them.” Jason muttered under his breath. But he’d save that for later, for now, he just paced back to his chair and sunk into it. The cave was quiet for a few minutes, Dick and Bruce continued on whatever the fuck adventure they were on was. The rest of the video was a blur. By the end, Jason’s racing heart had settled, and the kids had stopped clinging to each other.

“But wait.” Said Steph as the video ended. “If Dick’s alive, where is he? How did you even know to look?”

Jason turned to see Tim babbling. “Well I have a few theories, we recovered more footage as well, you know? Like Damian found pictures of him all across the world so like, we don’t know for certain where he is, but like I don’t know for sure what happened, but maybe someone was compromised so like, he had to stay hidden or like…” Tim continued babbling as the next video began to play. It was once again footage from the cowl. “Bruce shut off all the camera’s in the cave for the next week, I thought he was sulking but like we were able to find some cowl footage that he deleted, and like hopefully from that we can figure out what happened and how to track him down-”

“Turn up the volume.” Demanded Cass from her seat. She was looking at the screen with an odd expression. Damian moved without hesitation. Jason’s eyes followed up to the screen. Dick was glaring into the camera his fists raised and wrapped.

“So, one more time Dick. But now there’s only one rule…You have to win.” Came Bruce’s gruff voice. The pair was in the cave. Dick lunged towards the camera. “You let the crime syndicate capture you. Let them torture you. You let them give your secrets to the world.” Bruce accused.

“Bruce man, what the fuck!” Steph yelled, masking Dick’s response.

Bruce continued “You let them turn you into a bomb. You let them kill you. Before Luthor rescued you, you let everyone WATCH YOU DIE.” He boomed.

“YOU GOTTA BE FUCKING KIDDING ME!” Jason bellowed, knocking over his chair as he stood. He walked away from the screen. Only fucking Bruce. Only fucking Bruce would blame someone for their death. Jason knew that all too well. He walked away from the screen, giving himself distance to clear his head.”

“I trained you to LIVE, and I watched you DIE!” CRACK. Jason flipped around to see Bruce elbow Dick in the face, drawing blood. Bruce’s words cut like a knife. It wasn’t Jason’s fault he died. It wasn’t Dick’s fault either. Neither Steph’s or Damian’s. Damian had unconsciously taken cover behind Tim, who was standing between Damian and the screen with an arm hovering over the kid’s shoulder.

“WHAT THE FUCK BRUCE!” Screamed Steph at the screen, she was also on her feet at this point. Only Cass’s hand prevented her from trying to fight the digital apparition. “WE DON’T JUST GO AROUND DYING WILLY NILLY, IT’S NOT MY-, IT’S NOT HIS FAULT!” Her voice shrilly echoed around the cave, drowning out the audio temporarily.

Dick was on his knees, wiping his bloody nose, looking up confused. WHACK. A powerful kick sent him flying off the platform, crashing into a costume display case. “I have a mission for you, Dick. I need you to do something that will hurt your friends. Your family.” Bruce commanded. He could hear Damian inhale sharply. Tim stopped hovering and pulled Damian tightly into his chest, rushing forward to pause the video, with the boy in tow. His hand was over the button before Cass sprung forward and grabbed his wrist. Jason had never seen Cass look this angry without the mask.

“I deserve to know.” She said with conviction, anger deep in her voice. “I deserve to know what kind of father he is.” She spat. Jason wasn’t going to touch that with a ten foot pole.

“But he shouldn’t, I mean I don’t know if, I mean I don’t know what, I mean-” Tim sputtered glancing from the screen to Damian and back again.

“I want to know the truth.” Came Damian’s tiny reply. He looked so young, he pushed away from Tim’s chest, but leaned into his side.

Cass pulled Tim’s hand back. “I fought him once.” She admitted. “I need to know.” She repeated.

Tim looked at her pleadingly. Bruce and Dick raged at each other on screen. Blood flowed from the cuts on Dick’s back. “I…I…” Tim stammered.

“We all deserve to know.” Steph piped up, leaning against the side of the computer.

“Fight like you’re alive!” Bruce yelled on the screen. CRACK. An oversized die broke on impact with the back of Dick’s head. Dick retaliated, throwing a question mark back.

The words were blurring in Jason’s head, his rage clouding his thoughts, and overtaking his senses. The rest of the world was disappearing, leaving only the screen behind. His vision tunneled. He crossed his arms as tightly as he could, willing himself to stay in place. Stay calm. His hearing cut out. But he could still read his name on his brother’s lips just before Bruce delivered an uppercut powerful enough to knock Dick off the dinosaur.

The next thing Jason knew Cass was sitting on him. People were yelling at him.

“-on’t break the screen-”

“-up I need to see-”

“-op fighting-”

Cass smiled apologetically before tapping a pressure point. Jason allowed himself to fade into the darkness.

 He came to in a medical bay of the cave, with an intense desire to get out. This place was cursed. He needed out, he needed to think, he needed to process, but he needed to get out. He pushed himself up and swung his legs off the bed.

“Wait.” Came a voice from behind him. He spun off the bed to see Tim, awkwardly standing on the other side of the cot. Jason edged towards the door. “We know where he is.” Tim offered. Jason glanced at Tim, and back to the door.

“Can we talk somewhere else?” He asked quietly. He didn’t want to be in the cave for this. Tim awkwardly bobbed side to side.

“Uh about that. We’re moving out.” He said quickly. Jason opened the door.

“OMGIT’SREDHOODHIMR.REDHOODSIRPLEASEDON’TKILLTIM-”

Jason slammed the door in the kid’s face. He stared at Tim, who was banging his head into the wall with a hand covering his eyes.

“Do I even want to know?” Jason asked. Tim groaned.

“I called my team to help us move out, we’re going to use the bunker for Gotham operations from now on.” Tim explained. A loud crash came from outside. The door whipped open.

“Heythegiantpennyisn’t-” The kid started. Jason growled at him. “-nevermindbyebye.” The speedster zipped away and slammed the door.

“You decided this without me?” Jason asked, raising an eyebrow at Tim. Tim looked back at him sheepishly.

“You’re already out voted. Besides you really want to stay here?” He replied evenly. Jason shrugged, that was fair. He’d already tried to leave. “I know you said you don’t want to talk here, but I don’t know when I’ll get you alone again.” Jason sighed. That’s valid, he was planning on avoiding the family for a bit. “Please don’t pull a disappearing act.” Jason looked up at him.

“Why not?” He challenged.

“We don’t need Bruce to be a family.” Tim replied. It sounded rehearsed. That was also fair. “And we need each other too. We found some communications from Dick, Bruce left him stranded when he got amnesia, he’s coming back in a few days.” Jason couldn’t look Tim in the eye anymore.

“I don’t know what to do.” He said honestly, looking at Tim’s shoes. What do you say after something like this? After watching something like that. After knowing the truth.

“Neither do we, but we’ll figure it out together.” Tim offered. He looked sad, tired, his face fell before he spoke again. “He…he misses us.” He spoke softly. “On the recordings. I, I don’t think Bruce even told him about Damian.” Jason swore softly under his breath. Bruce was one fucking piece of work.

“Is there anything else I should know?” Jason said after a moment, catching Tim’s eye once more.

Tim shook his head. “The rest of the tape was mostly the same.” He said quietly. “He won.” He added as an afterthought. Jason snorted. Tim gave a warry smile. None of them ever won. Not in the ways they wanted to. Only when the prizes were more pain, more guilt, more heartbreak.

Jason leaned back against the wall. How was this the way things ended up? Was Bruce always this cruel? The man was unrecognizable to Jason. It was inexcusable. After Willis? After Cain? After Brown? Hell, even Tim’s father was emotionally abusive before he died. Why couldn’t any of them have a normal father? A stable parental relationship. It wasn’t fair. And it hurt more because he didn’t even know where it started. Bruce had been a good father to him. Had that been a lie? He’d never looked to closely at why Dick had left home, could it be that…that…? Had Jason missed something like this? Would he ever even know what he’d missed? They didn’t have as many cameras back then.

Tim had crossed the room and put a hand on his shoulder. “He’ll be okay.” He said confidently. “As long as we have each other, we’ll all be okay.” Tim squeezed his shoulder gently before disappearing through the door into the chaos that used to be his childhood fantasy. When had it all gone so wrong, he had to ask himself. He hated that he knew the answer. His death was this fucking family’s original sin. But you know what, that wasn’t his fault. Even if it felt like it. Even if Bruce still blamed him. Dick didn’t look at him like a ghost, he didn’t look at him like a kid in over his head, like a regret, like a mistake. It was time for Bruce to grow the hell up and move on. Bad experiences don’t justify beating your kids. Maybe from here, they could move on. Maybe from here on, they could heal. Maybe they could start over. Maybe they could make their own new family. Bruce had abused them, lied to them, manipulated them enough. It was time to rise from the ashes like a phoenix and fly again. He wouldn’t know unless he tried. He didn’t have to give up on Gotham. But maybe it was time to give up on Bruce.

Jason swung open the door, descending into a future unknown, diverging from the circle of heartache and abuse. He had broken the cycle once before, on his own, with a new family made of friends, one of his choosing. And now he chose to break it once more, and this time he resolved not to leave his siblings behind.

[morning-glory215]

just like moths

Tommy doesn’t wear his old jacket much anymore. Even though it brought a sense of warmth, of unity, he didn’t wear it much. When they had a formal inauguration of Tubbo, a few days after the bombing, he wore it. The old thing is falling apart at the seams, just barely presentable. And yet the memories it holds are what make it so hard to throw away. Of the times when the sun was golden and there were walls to protect.

(not those walls, half-finished with a threat)

And it was also the fact that he didn’t have another jacket to hold all of his medals.

Ones shaped like the discs he still had; ones with the spread wings of a Phoenix, to represent when L’Manburg had first been bombed and they had risen above it; a flag of L’Manburg; a sword and bow to represent his tenacity; a star, to represent when they had first taken back L’Manburg from Schlatt.

When he had to wear the jacket, he felt like he was holding the hopes of a past him. Of the people he had fought for (who stare at him now, as he walks along with his little posse to face another humiliation) and the ideals he often died for.

When death was cheap, you had to make some meaning out of it.

He tries desperately not to focus on his present reality. That Tubbo was giving into Dream to placate him. So that the walls would go away. So that Dream would go away.

None of this would go away by bowing.

(and hadn’t they said they wouldn’t bow to Tommy?)

(then again, Dream wasn’t the Vice President)

Yet, here they were. Tommy stands at the forefront of their new podium, as Tubbo makes some speech to the stragglers. Dream stands so casually, leaning against a stall. This was his punishment, and Dream’s amusement.

Tommy wanted to slap that mask away and dig his fingers into -

Fundy grins next to him, his pawed hand already taking away the first of his many medals. He takes away his tenacity, then the one representing a renewed L’Manburg - the Phoenix. Quackity takes away his flag. 

Then, finally, Tubbo steps forward. Tommy can see the biting bitterness in his eyes (or is he projecting?), the set of his jaw as he leans forward. First, he takes away the discs (that beloved, physical memory of their friendship) and deposits it in his pocket.

Lastly, the star. All of this was meant to strip Tommy of any pride and connection to his country.

In all matters but physical, he had no more connections.

No more honors. No more pride.

And as Tubbo tucks his star away, Tommy feels the light of their friendship dim. Tommy can remember drawing up the designs for all of those medals with Tubbo. Tubbo, who had smiled at him as he gave him back his medals as his president.

It was pretty fitting that his president would take them away, huh?

The end of the whole ceremony was like a balloon deflating. Tubbo left first, always in a hurry. Quackity left second, always something for him to do.

Fundy, however, lingers for a second.

And Tommy knows all the things left unsaid between them. They were both hurt by Wilbur (but the difference is, Tommy wishes still that Wilbur was around so that Tommy could try to fix him and Fundy wishes he was still around so that Wilbur could fix their relationship) and their moments together are always hard.

But Tommy knows, in this moment, that Fundy wants to gloat. He is already by the way he looks at him.

Fundy leaves third, with Tommy’s strength and hope in his pocket.

It’s Tommy who leaves last from L’Manburg, back to his actual home. The night air is heavy, the crickets singing and the moths floating around the lamps he had put up. His head is heavy, too - thoughts like moths that bat against the inside of his skull. Though there’s no formal declaration, Tommy knows.

He isn’t welcome back. Without his medals, which even the most basic citizen has, he has no honor. No face to show.

So he packs a bag, tears threatening to fall. 

And yet, he has nowhere to go. His last living brother that isn’t Tubbo is the worst choice. And he doesn’t know if he can trust Philza (how sad that was, he couldn’t even trust his own father). The places he can turn to are slim to none. 

He sits on the edge of the path outside of his home, feeling the rough edges of the wood dig into his pants and skin. He sits, and watches the moths dance without a care. Why can’t he be like them? They don’t need a home, nor friends who will eventually turn on him to placate a beast that will never stop being hungry.

Tommy notices the sound of footsteps, heavy from armor, approaching him. He doesn’t care much who it is (more to come and point and laugh at the fallen boy hero?), because he’ll be gone soon.

Yet, surprise is an understatement at who sits next to him - glittering gold armor, green and fluffy fur and a calming aura around him - so Tommy turns to look.

“What’re you doing here?” He asks, unable to keep the sulk from his voice. 

Even though Sam has always been kind. Always been somebody Tommy could trust wouldn’t make fun of him, or somebody who would indulge his chaotic behaviors. He was unerring, where Phil was inconsistent. He was level-headed, where Wilbur was so easy to take nosedives. He was willing to listen and change, whereas Techno wanted one thing above all.

Even though all of those were facts, something in Tommy flinches away from the kindly hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, I’m just here as a friend.” Sam says softly, and Tommy can’t help but lean into him. “What happened?”

Tommy feels an anger inside of him boil up and he can’t stop the bitter words.

“Tubbo is listening to Dream! Not me! We fought a war together against him!” Tommy feels the tears finally slipping away. “What the fuck is that about?!”

Sam hums and hugs Tommy closer. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t insert his own opinions and lets Tommy rant. Sometimes, when it’s clear Tommy wants him to say something, he does. It’s almost refreshing to have someone listen to him, when it always feels like he’s walking on eggshells with others.

“And - and, now I have nowhere else to go.” Tommy grips at his packed bag, then at his home. 

He’s so fucking hopeless

But Sam somehow sees something in him.

“I have room.” He says it so simply, and Tommy blinks. “We can work on a room for you, and you know how secluded I am.”

Somewhere secluded. 

Somebody who holds no scorn for his mere name.

Tommy almost wants to say no. He doesn’t want to leave behind the lamps with their moths, the land he had fought for, the people he still loves - even when they can’t spare him the same luxury. Why did he fight so hard, when punishment for things others did was his fate?

Why not be a little selfish?

“Yeah.” Tommy wipes his face furiously against his arms (scarred with his warring and loving too much) and nods. “Yeah. I’ll come with you.”

Sam smiles and Tommy feels like, just for a second, he can put his worries to the side.

And as they both stand, Tommy realizes something.

The jacket.

“Hey, before we go, can I go and put my jacket away?”

And of course Sam nods. Tommy feels a sense of relief as he walks past the moths that hit the lamps. As he puts the jacket on his old bed, he folds it neatly and stares at it. It had been a piece of who he was. A foolish, but loving, boy - who fought and roared and loved with his very being.

People over places, he had told himself.

Tommy leaves without a second glance, follows Sam like a moth to a lamp.

Perhaps, Tommy thinks, he’s been around too many lamps - that will, eventually, burn his wings away and leave him a husk. But he has faith that does not seem misplaced anymore, with Sam. He will find warmth and sanctuary with him.

Tommy doesn’t need his old jacket anymore to make him feel any kind of warmth of a fire long gone.

[fursasaida]

re: music. please do tell

(for everyone else: this is about my commenting in some tags that the idea that music is "how we decorate time" vs architecture decorating space, or music as something that is pure time or happens purely in time, is bullshit)

there are two ways to look at this. one is practical (and snotty) and one is theoretical.

practical: the production of music depends at least as much on the manipulation of space as it does the manipulation of time (rhythm, pacing, etc). your larynx and vocal chords, string instruments, wind instruments, drums all depend on resonance chambers and distances (length of the string, pipe, vocal cord, etc; dimensions of the drum, shape you make with your mouth, etc). that musical sound of the tinkling brook has to do with the volume of water, size of the stones, length of the drops, etc. this is because music is sound, sound requires vibration, vibration has physical properties that vary with various attributes of extension that are undeniably spatial. even digitally recorded and manipulated music relies heavily on tools for simulating spatial conditions of production--different kinds of reverb, for example. not to mention: you can hear any of it because of your god damn ear, which is another kind of resonance chamber. not to mention: how could anybody make music without any space to move in. even slapping your knee requires fucking up and down. AND HAVE WE CONSIDERED ACOUSTICS.

theoretical: ok ok so we don't have to take this so literally. it can be kind of poetic--or, as in some philosophy etc., illustrative/theoretical. my charge here is that treating music as "pure time" is bad poetics and does not help us explain anything theoretically either. theoretically: space and time aren't separate. i do not blame some random twitter user for not getting this. i do blame somebody like henri cursed-be-his-name bergson. just because it can be useful for certain purposes to think of them separately (like, say, graphing something's speed) does not make it valuable to talk about a pursuit like music in only one dimension or the other. like, the cubists were inspired by bergson; they show you bodies from more than one angle because they're trying to give a sense of duration--the ways you would see it at multiple moments as you move. this is supposed to be full of time instead of static and timeless like perspective. this is also horseshit. there is nothing less spatial about this! it has to do with the fact that the body you're looking at looks different from different angles, i.e. it has shape and directions! perspectival painting shows you actions and processes all the time! arguably it is more timeless to collapse multiple perspectives and moments into a single image! i'm not anti-cubism particularly, it's fine, i'm just saying, like: did anyone think this through actually.

similarly, if you want to use music to talk about the way time passes, how it's always going but does seem to have a present-duration--the present moment is not knife-edge thin--you can use literally any process that happens at a perceptible speed to do this. and you do not need to ignore that whatever it is also has spatial qualities. how would you even perceive time without motion or change in space? music is supposed to be one way. but i'm sorry! a) for practical reasons it simply is not without such motion/change (not even as a digital recording), and b) since time and space manifestly are united in perception, what help is it to try to separate them if you are a phenomenologist (bergson) rather than a (classical) physicist or engineer? henri what the fuck. this has always struck me as mainly a way to completely fail to appreciate music while also being obtuse about time. to speak of music as time only, no space, means divorcing it from the physical process of its production. this means it requires believing in absolute time--something that would pass and would happen even without anything to happen in it. which is just as wild as absolute space (space with a priori locations that would exist whether there was any matter to fill it or not). not even isaac newton, who invented both of them, thought this was something you could perceive or measure empirically. absolute space and time was to him a purely theological-mathematical idea, something that had to exist for the sake of certain premises but could never be experienced as such. your measurements will always be relative, not absolute. so absolute space and time are both bad for theorizing how anything affects us or is experienced--you know, like phenomenology? also fwiw the fact that absolute time can't capture the sensation of duration is still, like, a big problem in physics.

going back to that reblog where i explained that not everybody has always even had the concept of "space" like we do now, there is no empirical reason to believe absolute time or space exists. duration and extension are properties of physical processes (at varying levels of materiality). and many of those physical processes are not better explained but rather impoverished by trying to make them "happen in space and time" rather than things that give rise to spaces and timings. this is why the idea of music as pure time or purely in time leads to such absurd questions as "how can you slap your knee without up and down." it's stupid! it's snotty! but that's because the premise is bonkers!

so. whether theoretically or poetically, music is much more suited to discussion in terms of place. places have or are both space and time. in fact it is to some degree wrong to talk about place as "space and time" at all; rather we get the two separate concepts more by extrapolating from place, in which they are so fundamentally unified that not even a word like "spacetime" really captures it. that is partly what makes place difficult to theorize: places are too much like bodies, or like people, or like communities; you can't pull them apart into axes like "space" vs "time" and not lose what it is you're trying to theorize. (you can, e.g., track and analyze traffic patterns quite well this way, and that can be worth doing! but does that capture the place? does it explain what a place is? probably not. it's a different purpose.)

why were european cathedrals designed to have great acoustics? because those were places for the glorification of ~the divine, which was to be accomplished through both light and sound; both its spatial form (extension, hardness, size) and its nature as a ritual site (repetition, endurance); these qualities or capacities could not be separated. did the music not "decorate" the place just as much as the paintings, sculptures, architecture, stained glass? of course it did. we've all seen videos of somebody stopping in an archway or a big bathroom or whatever and singing; the place is further beautified by that because it is an interaction with the place, its spatiality, its acoustics, its textures, the way it looks, the fact that it invited the singer to sing--whether congruously (maybe a church) or incongruously (the aforementioned bathroom). just like your neighborhood has a distinct soundscape; just like a city has refrains. just like i remember stopping dead in the middle of the old city of damascus because three different calls to prayer had, intentionally or otherwise, overlapped to form a perfect major triad for a moment. i will remember that forever. and i will remember where i was when it happened too. (souq al hamidiyya.) that is part of the place. it happened because of the number of mosques and where they were located. and similarly what kind of sounds, or what kind of music, happens in which places has to do with the normative character of places. some sounds, some musics, "belong" some places and not others, because some actions are held to be appropriate there or not, or because they are or are not held to be characteristic. i'm not saying that's a good thing in itself. it's just the way it is. (and there are some places whose function is specifically to be open to all kinds of music, of course.) but i'm saying it leads to much more interesting questions with much more explanatory possibility. for example we could ask about characteristic rhythms or speeds of sounds in different places and what that means. or look at conflicts over what sounds "belong" or don't and to what degree that is justified in terms of time (time of day, pace of life, epochal ideas like what is or isn't "modern," etc).

tl; dr: explain to me the concept of an echo (which we use as a metaphor for having a strong experience of time quite a lot) using time and no space. explain to me how putting it in terms of time alone, even if you could, captures something that including space, or better, a simple narrative set in a place, does not. now explain to me why you would want to do either of those things.

[procrastinatingsapphictrash]

Slide in the wall

Word count: 1418     

Genre: I guess fluff but this is super random

Pairing: Platonic!Tony x reader (with some Pepper at the end)

Warnings: Swearing but in a friendly way (let me know if I need to add more)

Request: ... and this ones pretty vague but i just cried over a stark!reader after tony died so would love anything fluffy tony!

Summary: Tony and the reader find plans that they made while drunk and decide to build them without the permission of Pepper.

A/n: This request was for @casperlikej​ so I hope you like it. If I’m going to be completely honestly I don’t even know what I wrote here and it’s probably trash but whatever, I hope everyone enjoys anyways. It was also my first time writing for Tony so I don’t know how well I did but again, this isn’t meant to be a super serious fic, it’s very lighthearted fun. 

“How did you think that date was going to go well? It was at a seedy bar!” Tony asks you incredulously. 

“I was desperate.” You answer honestly.

“Why, because you haven’t gotten any action in months?” Tony mocks.

“Oh fuck off.” You tell him while holding up your middle finger behind her with one hand as you continue to work with your other. 

“Excuse me, is this how you speak to your boss?”

You laugh, “So you’re the boss of the avengers now? Besides, we both know you’re only the boss of anything on paper, if you wanted to fire me you’d have to go through Pepper first.” He opens his mouth to protest but you shush him. 

“Don’t shush me.” You ignore his warning and shush him again, holding out an architecture design you had just found buried beneath some folders. He grumbles and takes it but when he looks at what it says his annoyance disappears. You smile as you see him read the page that details exact plans of how to install a slide from the top floor where both your rooms are, all the way to the labs in the basement with multiple places to get on or off in between. 

“When did we make this?”

“I don’t know,” you respond, shrugging, “maybe while we got drunk a few nights ago?”

“That makes sense but this plan is good, even if we were wasted when we made it, we have to do this.” He says and you nod in agreement, knowing that he is serious and fully on board with the plan. 

“But we can’t let the others know because they would stop us,” you tell him, “and we need to do it before Pepper gets back from her business trip or else she’ll figure it out.” 

“We need to start now.” He agrees while calling a screen from Jarvis and pulling up some materials to buy. With Jarvis’s help it only takes a few minutes to decide which ones would be best to buy because Jarvis compared all of the different compagnies and figured out the best quality materials. You then move onto finding a team of workers who would be willing to work in secret to install the slide but it isn’t as hard as it sounds because Tony just promises to pay them ten times their normal hourly price so they agree easily. The rest of the day is spent improving the plans and figuring out how to keep the other avengers occupied so nobody notices. 

---

The next day you wake up early to go down to the labs and make sure all the materials and workers are ready. When you get down you find Tony is already there, explaining everything to the workers to make sure everything runs smoothly. The workers look weirded out by what they are being asked to install and the manner they are being asked to install it in but don’t question him because they are thankful to be paid this much. 

“Hey Tony,” you say as the workers disperse to get on with the day, “ready to distract the team?”

“Of course,” he replies, “keeping them off of the top ten floors shouldn’t be too hard, even if it is where their rooms are because I booked us a full day meeting with Fury to go over whatever he wanted, I didn’t pay attention to what he said.”

You groan. “Was there seriously no other way? I swear that man makes his meetings boring on purpose just so he can yell at us when we fall asleep.”

“Are you still mad about that? It happened two years ago.” You don’t have a response to that so you just stick your tongue out at him. He laughs at you as he starts walking out of the lab. “By the way, we’re both already late.”

“Fuck you!” You yell after him as you rush to catch up.

---

A week later and all seventy floors had been completed so the slide ran from the top floor to the labs with a place to get in and out at around every ten floors. Somehow none of the other avengers had noticed that on one of the far walls of each floor there was a jut out that hadn’t been there before, some of the jut outs even having doors. As soon as you say thank you to the workers and they leave, you and Tony rush up to the top floor to try the slide out. 

Both of you want to go first so you sit on the edge while Tony sits behind you, wrapping his legs and arms around you in a way that reminds you of doing this with your brother on the playground as kids. As soon as he is secured you push off, gliding down. It’s just as fun as you imagined and works perfectly, slowing down at every exit just enough for you to grab a bar to stop yourself, before speeding back up again. It takes almost a minute for you to make it all the way down, plopping onto the mattress Tony had the foresight to set there. You turn to each other with huge smiles and excitement shining in both your eyes. 

“Again.” You both say simultaneously, racing to get up the stairs. You were about to get on the elevator on the first floor when something made you pause.

“What is this?” Pepper’s shrill voice rang out. Tony gulped and you both creep to the room where the other avengers stood in fear of her and peek your heads around the doorway. If you hadn’t also been scared you would have been amused by the sight of the world’s greatest heroes rendered speechless by a normal businesswomen. 

Natasha speaks first. “I have no idea, I didn’t notice but I can assure you I had no part in whatever somebody did to change the shape of the room.”

“I trust you,” Pepper says, “Besides, Tony and Y/n are the only ones who are suspiciously not here.” After she says that you both pull your heads back. 

“I’m blaming it on you.” Tony says. 

“Me, no, I’m blaming it on you! You paid for it!”

“Yeah well you had the idea.” He accuses.

“No I did not!” You defend yourself although you don’t even know who made it since you were both drunk. 

“Fine, maybe you didn’t but you showed me the design when you could have just thrown it away.” 

“Oh like you would ha-”

“You two are not as quiet as you think.” Pepper says, cutting you off. “Now come out so I can talk to you properly.” You step timidly into the room, pushing Tony in front of you. 

“Hi sweetheart.” Tony says weakly, with a guilty smile. 

“Don’t sweetheart me. I want to know why the room is a different shape!” Pepper yells while the team snickers at your misfortune. 

“Are you sure the room hasn’t always been this way? I for one don’t notice a difference.” Tony says, playing dumb.

“You know that would be a lot more convincing if the paint colours were the same on the new walls as they are on the old ones.” Pepper says, looking completely done with Tony.

“How was I supposed to know there are different versions of white?” Tony asks her, ignoring the dangerous flash in her eyes. 

“Tony…” she practically growls, “why did you do this?” He nudges your side for you to respond instead of him. 

“We built a slide to the labs.” You tell her. 

“So let me get this straight,” she says, pretending to think out loud, “you two added a slide from here to the labs, renovating the floors without consulting me?” You and Tony look at each in horror. If she was this upset about one floor, she would undoubtedly be pissed once she found out the full length of the slide. 

“SoactuallytheslidegoesfromthetopfloorallthewaytothelabsI’mverysorryIloveyou. (So actually the slide goes from the top floor all the way to the labs, I’m very sorry, I love you)” Tony said all in one breath before running away pulling you after him.

Pepper stands shocked for a second but as you get further away you hear her yell something indistinguishable. You feel a little bad and you can tell Tony does too but after a lot of begging and making up for it Pepper will forgive both of you and besides, the slide was totally worth it.

[neerasrealm]

A Date

Zalgo x Reader. This was written. As a birthday gift. To myself. I’m old now and I deserve at least one self indulgent self insert fic and by god this is the one. Please enjoy.

Word count: 1765

‘’Fucking hell…’’ 

Stood up again. You really thought it’d be different this time. The guy seemed so nice, ‘not like other guys’. You couldn’t be more wrong. You’d agreed to meet at the Olive Garden at five. It’s now six-thirty, and you’re half heartedly chewing on mozzarella sticks while scrolling through Tumblr. An amazingly romantic evening with just yourself. Getting your outfit dry cleaned was a waste of money.

‘’Excuse me,’’ you look up from your phone at the sound of a deep, smooth voice. Your eyes widen. Standing in front of you is a tall, muscular man. Dressed in a button-up shirt and waistcoat. His skin is a copper-brown colour, and his fluffy hair is a dark brown colour, tipped with red. Like flames. Your eyes run up his arms, both tattooed. One with spiraling flames and the other with blue ink. The most alluring thing however, is his eyes. A bright gold colour. Under his right eye are three freckles, neatly dotted like they were painted on there. ‘’Are you...waiting on someone?’’

You sigh, looking away from the handsome stranger and grabbing another mozzy stick. ‘’No.’’ you reply simply. A grin curls up his face.

‘’May I sit here then?’’ he asks. Your eyes shoot up, surprised and confused as he gestures to the seat across from you. You freeze for a moment. You don’t particularly want to talk to anyone right now, you’d much rather finish your meal and go home to sulk in your pyjamas but...damn this man is a ten. Not even that, a solid twelve! 

‘’Uh- sure. Yeah.’’ you reply quickly. As he slides into the seat across from you you try to fix your hair and wipe sauce and grease off your face. You look over at him and smile for a second before looking down again. Was that weird? Probably. You’re weirding him out. You’re gonna drive away another good guy. What’s wrong with you? Why can’t you just-

‘’So what’s your name, if I may ask?’’ he purrs. His voice is like...tar. Warm, smooth tar that spills down and into your ears...very romantic. Your similes rival that of Shakespeare’s. Clearly. 

You stare at his face for another extra moment. He looks so laid back and, and his lips are curled up into a small smile as he rests his face in his palm. ‘’y/n.’’ you answer. He smiles wider.

‘’y/n…’’ he rolls the name around on his tongue. ‘’Unusual. I like it.’’ he grins across at you and you blush. He chuckles. ‘’I hope this doesn’t come off as rude but…’’ he traces a finger on the table, drawing patterns on the wood. ‘’I saw you sitting alone and couldn’t help but think ‘who would leave a pretty thing like that alone’?’’ he looks up at you. ‘’So of course...I had to come over and say hello. I’ve always been impulsive. Drove my parents crazy.’’ he chuckles again, and you can’t help but laugh in reply.

‘’Me? Really?’’ you tilt your head. Now he’s just trying to sweet talk you, isn’t he?

He nods. ‘’It’s true,’’ he looks you over for a moment before smiling. ‘’Maybe it’s the outfit.’’

Oh. Oh, getting that thing dry cleaned was not a mistake. You smile. ‘’Maybe…’’ you murmur before smirking. ‘’You’re not too bad yourself.’’ you add. He laughs. It’s a nice noise. Hearty, and light. He radiates warmth. Everything from his kind gaze, to the way he smiles across at you as he cups his face in his hands. 

He tilts his head, looking you over. ‘’Why are you alone anyhow? You’re all dressed up, but here you are eating mozzarella sticks all alone…’’ he murmurs before reaching over and stealing a mozzarella stick. If it were anyone else this man would be dead by now, but he’s way out of your league so you legally can’t murder him in cold blood.

‘’Well…’’ you glance aside. ‘’I got stood up. I had a date but...y’know…’’

He frowns, looking sad. ‘’Really?’’ he tilts his head. ‘’Well...that’s ironic. The same thing happened to me…’’ he sighs and looks aside. ‘’Can’t find a decent guy nowadays, can you?’’

You laugh a bit, glancing aside and blushing some more. He got stood up too? Damn...it must be your lucky day! ‘’Heheh...yeah…’’ this is good! He must be free too! Maybe you guys could-

‘’Hey,’’ his voice interrupts your thoughts. He smiles across at you, palms flat on the table. ‘’Maybe we could spend our evenings together? You see I...well, me and my date, we made plans to go to the local museum. I know that sounds boring- both of us really enjoy history and astronomy you see- but now...I just have two tickets going to waste.’’ he tilts his head. ‘’Maybe I could take you? And if it’s boring...I know a nice bakery we could visit after. I’ll pay, as condolence for the even worse evening.’’ he grins playfully and you find yourself giggling.

‘’Geez- a museum?’’ doesn’t really sound like your ideal date but...this guy is enchanting. And if this is what you have to do to get his number then it’s worth it. ‘’Well...it’s not like I have anything else to do-’’ 

‘’Great!’’ he lightly hits the table and grins brightly. You jump a bit in surprise. He reclines back, calm as ever before turning and looking to the side. He whistles and a waiter from across the restaurant perks their head up. How did they even hear that-? No matter. You reach into your bag to grab your money.

‘’Ah-ah.’’ he interrupts you. You look up and see he’s holding a credit card. ‘’I’ll pay, I insist.’’

You frown. ‘’You don’t have to do that- honestly I don’t mind.’’

‘’Sweetheart, I’m wearing designer clothing right now.’’ he replies with a deadpan look. ‘’I can afford to buy a pretty person some Olive Garden.’’ 

You blink in surprise. ‘’O-oh.’’ you glance down, embarrassed, and put your money back in your bag. ‘’Okay.’’ you didn’t realise he was rich. Does he think you’re rich too? Oh shit...what if this is just him trying to find someone to fit his evening with? Is he actually interested in somebody like you?

‘’Ready to go, cutie?’’ his voice snatches you out of your thoughts. You look over at him. He’s standing up, smiling at you expectantly. You blush and stand up, grabbing your things. You smile at him nervously as he holds out his hand. You hesitate for a second before he reaches over and takes your hand in his. Specifically the hand covered in blue ink.

He’s enchanting. There’s something about this man, the way his smile stretches across his entire face, the way his eyes shine with such a warmth you can practically feel it. His voice is so soft and soothing, it’s like you’re melting into him. The night air should be too cold, but he’s holding your hand and he feels warm. As you look over him, you notice something. ‘’Are your tattoos glowing?’’ 

He looks up in surprise, stopping mid-sentence. You feel bad for interrupting him, but his smile reassures you. ‘’Oh! Yes,’’ he chuckles and holds out his arm, the one decorated with swirling flames. ‘’It’s glow in the dark ink!’’

You arch a brow. ‘’That’s a thing?’’

‘’Oh, yes! Very experimental- not to mention expensive, but it looks cool doesn’t it?’’ he chuckles and drops his arm, reaching into his pocket. He pulls two tickets from his pocket and smiles before tugging your hand. He pulls you into the museum. The last time you were in here...well you must’ve been just a kid. He smiles at you and tugs you again. ‘’Come on! They have a collection on bronze and iron age metalwork- it’s very interesting- ooh! And the egyptian exhibit.’’ he giggles, like a giddy child. You smile a bit. None of that sounds as interesting as he makes it sound, but he’s so enjoyable to be around, you smile and follow after him enthusiastically. 

‘’Ancient egyptians of both sexes strived for beauty, did you know that?’’ his arm is around your waist now as you gaze at the exhibit. ‘’But their beauty was practical...the application of kohl around the eyes, combined with moisture from the eye made a protection from the sun’s glare...wigs reduced the risk of lice,’’ his voice is soft, low. You melt against him. ‘’They even had tattoos...they were geniuses. Architects, scientists, lovers, families…’’ 

‘’You speak like you knew them.’’ you laugh. He chuckles and squeezes you. 

‘’Maybe I did.’’ he feels warm and soft. ‘’Maybe I was a pharaoh, in a past life.’’

‘’And what was I?’’ you grin up at him. He gives you a sly smile.

‘’My personal slave.’’

You blush and smack at him, gawking in false shock. ‘’You dog!’’ you giggle. He laughs and grabs you by the hips, smiling down at you. His grin is intoxicating. His teeth are sharp, you notice. Surgery? He seems like the type to get that done. He links his arm with yours and pulls you along, smiling at you. You feel obligated to follow him into the dark room he leads you to. You look around. The walls are pitch black, until the curved ceiling suddenly lights up into a galaxy. You gasp.

‘’Do you like it?’’ he asks softly, as if he created the projection just for you. You step away from his side and smile up at the ceiling. ‘’The stars are enchanting...I adore them.’’ he smiles warmly as he speaks. ‘’But they’re so far away. Humans could never hope to see one up close, never touch one with their own two hands…’’ he walks past you. The ceiling casts a blue glow on him, and he seems to shimmer in the light. Ethereal, like he isn’t quite real. He snaps his fingers and the ceiling suddenly changes, showing the sun. He’s lit up in fiery red that flickers over him. ‘’It’s sad, isn’t it? How we can’t ever reach the things we wish so desperately to touch…’’ you step toward him, placing a hand on his shoulder. Your hand slides down and intertwines with his blue fingers. He looks down at you. He looks so...sad. He turns to you and cups your face. 

‘’But you can reach me.’’ you say with a small smile. He sighs, his lips turning up.

‘’I suppose I can…’’ he murmurs as he leans in and kisses you softly.

[wu-sisyphus-gang]

Motion Sickness Chapter 70

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"So they're letting you out?" Ruby asked.

"Well I've been in out-patient care and I got out of in-patient care." I shrugged. They were giving me my weapon back with a hefty fine and time-served. I guess they were desperate for reformed huntsmen on the right side of the law.

And my psychiatrist had eagerly pressed me through as truly reformed. I'd had to sit in front of a judge for my sentencing but my psychiatrist had explained who I was and the extenuating circumstances I had been through. A mind control semblance was the declassified word.

Horrifying.

"That's it then? You're free?" Ruby wondered.

"All horizons," I told her.

"Atlas law requires you to see a therapist for nine weeks minimum," Weiss cut in on my other side. "For the PTSD related issues."

"This fucking continent." I clenched a fist.

"It's for your own good. Better to not fight it and come out of it with something." Weiss said.

"I can't believe you're getting off so easily," Blake muttered.

"Hey did you get a deal like this once?" I asked. "And you weren't even mind controlled."

She looked away and said nothing. Truly reformed huntsmen were hard to come by and it was easier to snatch them up where they appeared. My psychiatrist, therapist, and neurologist all greenlit me.

"Speaking of, how are those meds they have you on treating you?" Weiss asked.

"They're sedating. But I'm managing. The ones they had me on before this batch gave me terrible nightmares."

"Is that how it works?" Weiss wondered.

"It's not an exact science. There's some guessing involved to find some that work for you."

"And these ones work for you?" Yang asked.

I waggled a hand. "I miss THC and CBD but this seems like a close second."

"The doctors said that those were both exacerbating your symptoms," Weiss wedged in.

"Those doctors have never had an alien goddess in their mind." I was met with a loud silence. They weren't sure what to say when I said something like that. No one was. Because no one knew what I was going through besides my sisters wherever they are. I paced forward. "So this is Atlas Academy?"

"We'll have to talk to the General about getting you a room," Ruby muttered.

"Oh I'm sure he'll be happy to see you." Yang rolled her eyes. "I mean, no offense."

"Yeah well I have to serve my time somehow. Military service is probably it for somebody like me. With my particular set of skills."

"But will he trust you?" Weiss asked.

"Better question. Should I be trusted or will I sell you all out to Salem again?" I asked.

"You didn't sell us out. You brought us the relic," Ruby said.

"I… I killed Ren and Nora, Ruby." I couldn't believe her. She still believed in me.  

"That wasn't you," she denied. Maybe she even believed it. I couldn't be sure with Ruby. Well I could. She was just hard to look at because of it.

"It wasn't not me. I have a lot to atone for, and I might do it again."

"You broke her control over you once," Weiss reminded me. She led the way through grey halls up to the headmaster's office.

"I keep telling everyone I have no idea how I did that though."

"You're not exactly selling me on this. On you," Blake informed me.

"Not really trying to. I'm trying to remind you how dangerous I really am. How much of a liability I could be. It's important."

"Cloud, how does this whole time served thing work?" Yang asked.

"That's a little up to Ironwood. He could send me anywhere but he sort of has to accept me somewhere. That's what the judge ruled. He's not a dictator. Not yet at any rate."

"It'll probably be better if you don't talk to him like that," Weiss said. "He won't appreciate it."

"You're probably right." I sighed. We took a grey elevator up to his office. It provided a scenic look out over the tundra and parts of Mantle.

Neo was out there somewhere. I contacted her and let her know I was watching for Cinder from this side and promised to let her know if anything was going down. I was sure she was managing just fine without me though. I was on the inside now. I could watch for Cinder better from here. I'd just have to trust that Neo would show up when it was opportune. I just hoped she wouldn't think I was abandoning her or the cause. Because I wasn't. I was still in camp ‘murder Cinder’ and she was a big girl, she could look after herself if only for as long as this charade lasted. It couldn't go on forever. Eventually I'd slip up and something Salem related would happen.

I also let her know I was getting some serious psychological help for the psychosis. She seemed neutral about that, though. Maybe she thought I was doing just fine. I hadn't been but I was glad she thought that.

Ironwood wasn't in when we arrived. That left us waiting outside for a bit. You couldn't really expect him to be in at all times.

Winter Schnee was there though. She gave me an icy glare and I just smiled back at her wolfishly.

"Oh, it's you," she said.

"Right back at you. How's the throat?"

"Just fine, thank you. You won't surprise me again."

"I don't need surprise to beat you," I told her. "You're fragile. Like glass. I was worried about breaking you. On accident. And don't think that becoming a maiden will bail you out. I almost killed Cinder and I was weaker then by a country mile."

"Weiss, you told him?" She looked shocked.

"He already knew. All about the bunker and what was in it." Weiss responded calmly.

"Neo and I did some digging in that department," I said.

"Ah yes, your criminal partner. Any idea where she is right now?" Winter asked.

"I have no idea." I told her honestly. "I have had no contact with her since my voluntary imprisonment," I then lied. I mixed the truth with lies.

"I see. Well should you remember anything Atlas would consider that necessary information."

"Yeah, yeah."

"I ought to teach you respect."

"Many have tried. Like my Mother. "

Her eyes gleamed, spotting weakness. "You meant Salem, I am sure."

"I did…" I trailed weakly.

"Winter, that's enough. Leave him be. Family is complicated and he didn't ask to be born to that monster. You and I should have some empathy for that," Weiss said.

Winter sighed down at Weiss. "Weiss…"

The general walked in and spotted us. He noticed Jaune armed with his weapon.

"They gave you your weapon back, so soon?" Ironwood asked.

"A week and half isn't that soon," I muttered. "I'm here for my assignment."

"I see. And team RWBY is…"

"Moral support," I granted.

"Have a seat Mr. Arc."

"It's Strife now."

"You changed your name, then."

"Arc was a fake name anyway. It was the name my parents gave me." I took a seat. There was a lot to unpack in that sentence I just said. Most people were given their names by their parents. Most people just didn't hate their parents like I did.

"I can respect that. Ozpin has recommended an assignment close by for you. I'm less convinced."

"He did? Why?" I asked.

"He wants to see if you are capable of his and Salem's kind of magic. He wants to train you if that is that case."

"Oh," I hadn't thought of that. "Well I did give his current body some training. Maybe he just wants to pay it forward."

"Perhaps. And he's done a great deal to protest your innocence. You should be grateful to him."

"Then I am."

"I have decided you will work out of this Academy. For the time being at least."

"You want me where you can keep an eye on me," I deduced.

"Things will go smoother if you have more trust in me than that. I am sure your therapists will have been trying to work through your paranoid thinking with you. Not everyone is trying to watch you, Mr. Strife." He steepled his fingers.

"But I'm pretty sure you are." Weiss elbowed me fairly hard in the side. "Regardless of your reasons for doing it I am grateful."

"I was hoping we could talk more about how you were made. You explored Merlot's laboratory and might have insights for me," he probed.

"I actually explored two different labs. I ran into someone in the second, near here in Solitas. Near a place called Nibelheim. He was a man with a mustache and a navy suit with yellow trimmings. He had green eyes and dark hair. I didn't see his weapon, though. He never used it. He said he was the one who made my sisters before he tried to use the laboratory…” I struggled for the word. “Defenses? To try and kill me."

"I see. But you found no more information on you or your sisters there?" He asked.

"No. Just more of my father's usual experiments on the Grimm. Something to do with turning them blue. I'm really not sure. The lab in Anima was like that too except he was turning them green and there were humanoid Grimm that he had designed. They were loose and in tanks in the facility. Tanks not dissimilar to the one he grew me in."

I felt a hand on my shoulder. Weiss's comforting aura drew in beside mine. She tasted like whipped cream and clear crisp crushed ice.

"And he grew you in one of these… 'tanks?'" Ironwood asked.

"An incubator of some sort, I'm sure. But to me they were just these sort of pods. Merlot's book has more notes on the one he used for me. It was a bit different than the others. He grew me from a fetus until I was nearly an adult in just a year," I said.

"That would make you young. Like Penny Polendina." His brow went up at me.

"Yeah. Something like that. I'm between three and four years old. I don't have an exact date for my birthday either. Don't remember if they ever gave me one or if it really matters considering I didn't have a birth," I informed him. "Anything else you'd like to know?"

“A great deal. About your origins. How you came to Beacon. Whether you have any insights into Salem’s weaknesses.”

“I don’t really know. And I’ll remind you that I am just a failure, after all." I wasn't really meant to last. I was just a prototype.

"Cloud..." Ruby whined behind me. The noise she made sounded like she was sad for a dog. It wasn't a good sound.

I ignored her. "I don’t really know how I came to attend Beacon. I don’t have any insights into Salem’s weaknesses. From my perspective she seems pretty unstoppable."

"It's impossible to say." Ironwood returned. "But if we should come up with a way to divorce you from her we will let you know."

"Thank you for telling me," I said.

"Of course. Now, let's see what you can do Mr. Strife."

"Finally, something I'm good at."

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I glid through the training chamber at one of the Ace Ops members. I hadn't learned their names but he had a boomerang rifle and he was a dog faunus.

I caught up to him and swung twice horizontally in two enormous strikes that buffeted him around when he tried to block.

He jumped back and tried to fire at me but my profile was low as I came at him in an unrelenting fashion. I palmed a dust crystal and hit him with a lightning bolt that knocked him to his knees.

I came at him with a diagonal cut when another Ace Operative grabbed me with extensions of his aura. He tried to stop me in place but I jumped and twirled and cut at his golden aura. I severed the extended hands and the removed parts dissolved into fading golden light.

I front-flipped, moving on to the new target. I landed up on some of the glowing cubes in the training room. He reformed his hands and tried to beat me but I just sliced through. I flew at him with both hands on my broadsword.

My sixth sense called out to me and I flicked my sword up to block the boomerang rifle. It rebounded back to its user and he opened fire on me as I went after the wacky inflatable arm guy.

I closed the gap on the pillar he stood on and slashed through his aura arms that got in my way. I kicked him off the pillar and brought my sword down on his head.  I cleaved deep into his aura and still I chased him as I blew him to the ground level with a massive overhead attack.

He had a lot of aura. He might be the only person I'd ever met in my own percentile of aura. He might even have more than me.

I chased him as he fell from when I slammed him and I beat him to the ground. I Cross Slashed him before he hit the ground. The devastating combination caught him up. The five move slashing attack tore away at his golden aura.

My Limit Break activated.

The dog faunus came around a corner and opened fire on me. I switched opponents again as I flew at him. I held my weapon between us and blocked most of his bullets. The few that got through pinged off my aura. I slashed upwards at him and he rolled to the side with a yelp.

I just stepped up on him again and swung upwards once more. Once he was airborn I had him right where I wanted him. I juggled him once. Then twice. Then again. He couldn't escape from the aerials I swung up at him.

I jumped up to match his height and Octa Slashed him with my Limit Break. He flew towards the ground and slammed into a pile of the boxes.

His light blue aura flowed to place over him before it vanished. I flew down on him in a swooping fashion and tackled him and carried him all the way to a wall of the arena. I stabbed my sword into the ground and beat the aura out of him with my fists. I punched him in the jaw. Then the stomach. Then I picked him up and slammed him into the ground.

Golden arms wrapped around me and picked me up and threw me across the room. I slammed into a pile of boxes back first. My head rocked back against the boxes. I stood up and put my sword against my shoulder.

The wacky arm guy landed next to the dog faunus and helped him to his feet. They turned to stare at me. I stared right back.

A golden arm slithered towards me across the ground and snagged my leg. It picked me up and slammed me face first into the ground. Then it rotated me and slammed me into the ground the other way.

Then it held me in the air and I got rocked by a boomerang to the face.

I snarled and cut myself free.

I landed on a pocket of air and descended towards the ground. I flew at the two of them through machine gun fire. An arm slashed at my side and I grunted but I cut through the next one and kept flying.

I landed between them and just to flex I charged my semblance to full. Then I swept my sword through the dog faunus's aura. He went down in a light blue crackle. He was lucky I hadn't hurt him for real.

I came at the next guy with a front-flip. I brought my sword down on him and he blocked with his aura. Even still my sword bit deep. I kicked him in the middle of the chest and he stumbled back a step. Then I flew at him with a knee and caught him in the face.

A golden claw slashed me to the ground but I never hit. Instead I floated on a pocket of air and rotated in place. I swept my blade around me and forced him back a half step.

The dog faunus stood up. "Marrow, don't!"

'Marrow' opened fire right into my back.

I whipped around and glared at him. I snarled. I hit him in the head with the blunt side of my weapon and he crumpled like a sack of bricks with a large bruise forming on the side of his head.

"Do you want to call this here?" I asked the one still standing. "Or do I have to beat you into unconsciousness, too?"

"I'll surrender. You fought well." The remaining man said sibilantly.

I nodded and put my weapon in the harness on my back. I hope there was more to Ace Ops than this.

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-WG