#2.2k words

[tommarvoloriddlesdiary]

“It looks like you’re in trouble there. Can I help?”

Tom has had the unfortunate displeasure of ending up in a few uncomfortable situations throughout his life. Needless to say, he’d rather these situations stay between him, himself, and he.

However, that is not always the case.

He can remember his first year and how he sank into the small marsh area in the corner of the common room with startling clarity. It did not matter that it was nearly a rite of passage to fall prey to the trick carpet hiding the deceptively deep water. His embarrassment burnt like a cauldron fire. And the giggling of his schoolmates still grates in the dark when his eyes have shut, and he tries to drift off to sleep.

Tom can even remember that time Amy Benson was dared to kiss him. How he’d flinched so badly, his head reared up and back with force strong enough to make her nose bleed. How she cried and cried and cried, dripped blood everywhere, and rubbed her arm harshly across her lips. Tom can hear her shouts, “So gross! Whatta monster!” as loud as the morning rain when it pelts against his room’s window panes at the orphanage.

More recently, Tom remembers the harsh face of rejection. So much like his own… but he feels the sting of that soothing with time, and with each turn of the family ring he wears with vicious pride.

And today, when Tom decided to patrol the castle’s upper levels once curfew set, he hoped his small and insignificant blunder would stay just that: his.

And yet.

“Seriously, are you alright down there?”

Tom looks up, a frown tugging at his lips and a glare sharp enough to cut. “Clearly,” he starts, sarcasm scathing, “I’ve never been better, Potter.”

And Harry Potter merely stands there, hands on his knees, smiles his stupid crooked smile and cocks a brow. “Oh? So I can go then?”

Tom hates him. Tom hates him enough to curse him. Maybe even curse him dead. “Yes. I don’t need your help,” and knowing you, you’ll just make everything worse, Tom doesn’t say.

But he’s almost confident that’ll be the case. Potter has an odd habit of ending up in odder places and dealing with the oddest circumstances. Though, even Tom can recognise that he has a natural talent for wiggling his way out of them. Abraxas has a running gag, keeping a ‘comprehensive list’ of situations the new transfer student has wound up in and a matching list of dramatic and ridiculous things he thinks Potter will do next.

Surprisingly, Potter has managed to cross three things off that list.

Most of Slytherin agrees it’s his Gryffindor nature, and the red tie certainly contributes to that argument. But there have been moments. Quiet and scarcely there, barely under the surface, something that flickers when Tom catches Potter at just the right instant, just the right angle… that has Tom wondering.

Even now, when Tom blinks, he swears the stripes on Potter’s undone tie, thrown carelessly over one shoulder and dangling down as he looks over Tom, is a green that rivals his eyes.

“Come on, Riddle. You can’t mean that.” Potter huffs, exasperated, “I mean, look at you.”

Ah, yes. Tom can admit that falling off the astronomy tower and dropping his wand in his panic to grab the ledge was not something he’d anticipated.

That didn’t mean Potter had to rub it in.

“I don’t see a problem,” Tom grits out. Just go away, his eyes scream. As though Potter is smart enough to know legilimancy, laughable. Please. He’s hardly aware enough to pick up common social cues.

Potter lowers further, squatting on his haunches. His hand reaches out and traces the tower’s edge like he can’t help himself, like flirting with danger. “So this was part of your plans this evening? You decided to run your rounds and thought, Goodness! Do you know what would be lovely? A nice little hop off the astronomy tower!”

“Was that irritating voice meant to be an impression of me?”

“Not to you’re liking? That’s a shame; I’ve been practising since I was twelve.”

Tom rolls his eyes so hard he sees spots. “You didn’t know me when you were twelve.”

Potter just keeps smiling.

Tom snaps, “What exactly is it that you want?”

“I already told you. It looks like you’re in trouble, I happen to be an expert on trouble, and I’m offering you help,” Potter says and crawls forward until he can comfortably stretch his arm down to Tom.

And Potter, with his stupid quidditch body and toned arms, could probably lift Tom up easily. It just infuriates him more. “I would rather fall.”

“And die?” Potter asks. There’s something off about his smile when he says it. Something that sends a chill down Tom’s spine.

It’s said with a little too much knowing for Tom’s taste.

His disquiet lingers long enough for Potter to speak up again, “What were you doing up here anyway?”

Given the placement and fullness of the moon and the fact they are nearing the dawn of Capricorn’s sky, Tom thinks it rather obvious what he is attempting to do at the top of the astronomy tower. Admittedly, rituals of this nature may be a league above anything Potter is aware or tolerant of, so maybe obvious is too generous an assumption.

Regardless, it’s not something Tom is going to brag about. “Prefect rounds.”

Potter actually laughs in Tom’s face, “Yeah, right. And I’m just here to gaze at the pretty little stars!”

Tom’s eyes narrow, “And what is it that you are doing here, Potter?”

Potter grins a wide closed mouth thing. “Stalking you, of course, Riddle.” Tom frowns, unamused, as Potter carries on, “It’s one of my favourite pastimes, foiling your small schemes.”

And for a moment, Tom almost rolls his eyes again, annoyed and fed up with Potter’s antics and this ridiculous position he’s found himself in. But there’s something about the tone of Potter’s voice, the way he says it so carelessly, harmlessly, that has the hair on Tom’s neck standing straight up. Like a warning, like danger.

With an outside awareness, Tom carefully reviews memory after memory of his recent string of (he hesitates to use the word, but) failures. How one too many times this past week something has gotten in the way of his budding connections with purebloods, or his ability to meet with his knights, or his evening strolls through Ravenclaw territory to sweet talk the Grey Lady into revealing the hiding place of Ravenclaw’s lost Diadem.

It startles Tom to realise that these strange and unaccounted-for mishaps all have one thing in common: Harry Potter.

Potter, who has recently taken it upon himself to spur on cross-house relations. Encouraging people of all ilk to get along even if it means dragging them into conversations (or casual quidditch matches) kicking and screaming. Thus causing Tom’s carefully planned run-ins with certain influential and affluential children of ministry officials and the scared twenty-eight alike to miraculously not be on their habitual routes that Tom has spent years learning.

Potter, who was responsible for the prank flooding in the room Tom’s knights used to meet. His insistent apologies profused left and right— not for the flooding itself, but because he flooded the wrong room. Tom gave it a pass at the time because they were so close to the Gobstones Club, but what if it was intentional all along?

Potter, who was often seen prowling around the fifth and fourth floors due to his frequent visits to the hospital tower. He had struck an unlikely friendship with the normally timid Grey Lady, and Tom had found them in soft blue evening light, Potter’s form stark through the Grey Lady’s transparent hovering, talking quietly a few handfuls of times. And how has Tom not realised all of this sooner?

It’s not like Potter is trying to be subtle, after all.

Suddenly, Tom feels very wary. “Potter…you wouldn’t have anything to do with my current predicament, would you?”

“I would never come up here an hour before you and cast aguamenti on the stone to let the naturally brisk December evening work its wonders and produce a nearly invisible sheet of ice for you to slip on, Riddle. And I’m offended you’d ask,” Potter deadpans.

Tom feels his eye twitch. “I’m going to kill you.”

“You really need a new hobby, Riddle.” Now Potter is the one rolling his eyes. “Just take my hand, and I’ll help you up.”

Tom scoffs, “You orchestrated my near catastrophic fall, and you expect me to just trust you’ll not drop me?”

Potter raises a brow, looks left, looks right, and back to Tom. “I’m sorry. Did you have any other way out of this? Because from the looks of things, you’re pretty fucked. And I don’t believe I have to remind you that it’s Christmas Hols, so no one is likely to check on the tower till after the break. Which means you could be here for days.”

Tom, for a moment, can’t find the words. He just stares in open mouth horror at Potter. “You… how did you sort Gryffindor?”

“I asked,” Potter smiles like that absolutely ridiculous answer is something very clever. For all Tom knows, it probably is.

Insanely, all Tom can think about is how Abraxas would be able to cross attempted murder off his comprehensive list.

Tom knows he doesn’t have the time nor energy to mull over Potter’s offer of help any longer but does so anyway just to watch Potter shake his head in growing disbelief. Then he sighs and says, “Fine,” with much reluctance.

Potter reaches down, stretching as far as possible, and Tom makes the risky decision to drop hold of the ledge with one of his hands. He wills himself to ignore the painful burn of the reach and the paranoid feeling of numbness from the cold on his remaining grip and meets Potter halfway. Their hands touch, and Tom feels an instant relief.

The relief is short-lived.

“Swear to me,” Potter starts, not pulling Tom up, “Riddle, swear to me right now that you’ll never make another Horcrux again.”

Tom rears back in shock, the jerked motion tugging harshly on Potter’s hold. He sees Potter’s brow furrow at the pain, no doubt, and feels vicious satisfaction through the raging scream echoing loudly in Tom’s very being.

“What?” Tom hisses, and it dawns on him quickly that this had been Potter’s goal all along. Potter wasn’t some annoying idiot attempting to be a thorn in Tom’s side; he was a Slytherin in Gryffindor’s skin, plotting and crafting and scheming his way to tonight, to this moment. To Tom’s ruining.

“I know I’m too late for the others,” Potter grimaces, and his displeasure is an ugly taut thing that Tom wants to see and cause a hundred times over. “But I can stop any more you’ve planned. I can at least do this much.”

Tom feels a bubble of laughter building and is helpless when it bursts hysterically and loudly in the quiet winter night. “Potter, if you know oh so much about my supposed Horcruxes, then you know what they do. You know what they’re for.” Tom deliberately loosens his hold and feels a rush of heady elation at the panic in Potter’s eyes, at the sudden tighter grip he holds Tom with.

“You know that if I fall, I’ll just come back.”

Potter nearly snarls, his lips pulling back to show straight white teeth. Tom’s sure their bite is as crushing as his bark. “Yeah, sure, Riddle. And you’ll just be a wraith or whatever until you somehow get a new body.” Tom tuts, disappointed and wildly pleased that Potter had clearly done his research. “Call me crazy, but I doubt your current little followers have enough wits about them to build you a whole new body from scratch. And I doubt you’ve had the time to actually prepare such a failsafe yourself while stuck at Hogwarts most of the year and at your Orphanage for the rest.”

It’s the most Potter has ever said to him, Tom thinks, and it’s dizzying. But he isn’t done, “I’d say that’s plenty of time, wouldn’t you, to find your other Horcruxes and make sure you can never come back.”

Potter says this like a promise. Like it would be far too easy. Tom’s terrified. But, madly, a blistering heat crawls up his neck and to his cheeks, pushing through all of his coursing fear—or worse yet, instigated by it—and his stomach lurches like a swarm have taken home there; he knows it’s not from his anger.

With a dry mouth and eyes only for the wild, determined thing clutching his hand for dear life, Tom nods. “I, Tom Marvolo Riddle, vow to you, Harry Potter, to never make another Horcrux again.”

And when Potter promptly lifts Tom up and back into the tower, safely and gently, and shortly abandons him to its stark winter quiet, he makes another vow. Just to himself.

You will be mine, Harry Potter.

#tomarry #tomarrymort #harrymort #pov: tom #my fic #2.2k words #fic: like a parasite (kill my butterflies) #hi hello #i'm back so soon #this one is for racfoam because you are far too kind

[northerngoshawk]

stabbing

stabby stab stab.

also torture.

protecting you

Rating: T

Word Count: 2.2k

The rough sackcloth was suddenly ripped from his head, and Aang found himself in a dungeon.

Well, he assumed it was a dungeon, what with the small, dank enclosure, the brick walls that pressed down on them, the flickering orange-red flames that danced on the slim torchwood, the glint of chains attached to the walls.

He grunted as someone was shoved in right next to him, and the clank of armor sounded as two feet appeared in his vision. Moments later, the sackcloth was ripped from the person's head. Aang turned to see a dark mane of hair framing ice-cold eyes and lips twisted in a snarl.

His heart sank.

Katara.

Katara's eyes flicked wildly about, as though trying to take in everything. When her eyes landed on him, they immediately widened. "Aang," she gasped. A flurry of emotions flashed on her face—relief, regret, worry, fear, horror, and more, too many for him to count.

Aang leaned in, lowering his voice so the guards wouldn't overhear. "They didn't hurt you, did they?"

Katara slowly shook her head, although there was still that look of fear and horror on her face as she looked at him.

Read More on AO3 or FFN

#northern's fanfiction #kataangst #torture #violence #angst #heavy angst #(hopeful ending bc this is a prequel) #aang #katara #how much do i hate myself? #yes #THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A DRABBLE #D R A B B L E #BUT NO #2.2K WORDS #2.2K. WORDS #ugh i hate myself #well hope you like this peaches #itsmoonpeaches

[fearandhatred]

Summary:

Aziraphale comes back wrong. Crowley tries his damnedest to figure out what happened, until he doesn't.

~~~~~

omg here it is FINALLY i know i said it would take 3 years but i lied i guess. i'm so excited to write and complete this actually. i got the idea when i first got into ethel and listened to preacher's daughter on repeat 300 times in a row so that should give you some idea as to what this fic will be like

that being said please mind the tags + don't like don't read ok love y'all any support is appreciated <3

#fearandhatred #fearandfics #fic: transitional heart taxidermy #i'll probably change the chapter name i'm not really vibing with it rn #for ONCE in my life i will try to update regularly #pray for me #also idk how y'all are out here writing like 10k words per chapter. anyway here's 2.2k #good omens #good omens season 2 #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #crowley #aziraphale #good omens fanfiction #good omens fanfic #fics #THIS IS A QUEUED POST. i am asleep

[licollisa]

Finals week or my final week? Stay tuned

#got me pumping 2.2k words of research paper in a day im this 👌 close to submit a zip bomb for the teacher responsible #too bad i actually wanted to graduate #just a few more days oooooooooo

[lildoodlenoodle]

First things first(spoilers for spiderverse/spidergeddon and comic noir storyline) this is a long post but you’ll have fun I promise. As always feel free to engage with the post, I’d love to hear different theories/opinions/conclusions on this in the tags or comments. Sorry it took so long!

Now I’m gonna say something morbid:

Spider Noir’s death in the comics was hilarious

Jarring, but hilarious. Like why’d he grab him like that. I physically had to shut off my iPad and go for a walk after this scene when I first read it.

But to my point, you know how some people say your birth mark is how you died in your last life?

Well post resurrection we might have A, B, and C:

(Now before anyone gets on me for, why would you do that/even think of this? In my defense, I couldn’t remember where he was grabbed, it’s been a while since I’ve read these. I thought it was gonna be on his back or shoulder and I’d give him a burned on handprint going all ‘gripped you tight and raised from perdition’ which is cool, fun, sexy, and conveniently hidden. Then I reread it and it’s basically a permanent face palm. Also pretend his face looks the same in every one. Couldn’t decide on hair either lol.)

Either way post resurrection Peter should have physical after effects of his resurrection. Either lines all over his body from having the life force sucked out of him or birth/burn marks on his face. I think this would be hilarious, angsty, and interesting. I also hate when people are just resurrected willynilly. LET THE TRAUMA OF DYING AND COMING BACK TAKE ITS TOLE. Especially if it’s multiple times.

In MK: Midnight Mission they, pretty recently, came up against this problem with the MK system being resurrected over and over again and facing really no visible consequences. But then we find out, there isn’t really a limit(ignoring the whole Khonshu imprisonment), but eventually mentally, there will be nothing left to resurrect. And the mindless mummy warrior creatures we meet from Khonshu’s ‘world’ were old avatars that wasted away from resurrections. It explains the alterations and perversions of the MK system’s mental conditions, because they are actively being altered and changed, to be brought back, by a multidimensional creature that doesn’t care about their mental health/state(that Khonshu takes advantage of, knowing what he’s doing). Sound familiar?

Now, time to get philosophical. Ship of Theseus.

What is it? Ship of Theseus is an ideological/philosophy problem about a king, Theseus, who saved the children of Athens from king Minos and the Minotaur and then sailed his ship to Delos. Then each year Athenians would sail that same ship from Athens to Delos in celebration of the myth. Over time they kept replacing parts of the ship for maintenance purposes, till every plank had been replaced, so they could still make the voyage. Now the question is, is it still the same ship? At what point did it stop becoming that original ship? And does it matter?

Applying this philosophical exercise to resurrection, with what we know above, we can get an interesting dialogue going. But, with that said, it’s important to keep in mind that the resurrection process in this context with these multidimensional gods isn’t explained with enough detail to really take it apart. Like what happens to the soul? Is the brain damage we know Marc has from repeatedly dying and his brain repeatedly going without oxygen or is it from just interacting with a multidimensional god? Is the spider god comparable to Khonshu? Is the spider god even real, if not what or how was Peter actually resurrected? And if it is real, what is its main goal? At least with Khonshu we know he has an agenda. What does it want, what’s its end game?

But let’s get into it anyways.

Now, you may be wondering, why do I keep saying multiple resurrections in regards to Spider noir? I am so glad you asked! I believe Peter's initial spider bite killed him. He had to go to the afterlife to actually see the spider god. That’s why we really only see them three times, at the initial power conception, Peter’s resurrection, and when Peter goes to the ‘underworld’ in the 2020 run. We see something similar with Khonshu in Midnight mission, while he’s in space jail, Marc can only see him during resurrections or while he’s dead. And while we’re comparing the MK system to spider noir, when Marc got his powers, he basically had to die first. That was implied to be his first resurrection. So this wouldn’t be a one off situation. We have some rules.

What we don’t see with Moonknight and Khonshu is visual physical change. Outside of the ghost bird skull armor the boys aren’t visually changing. Meanwhile, Peter has physically turned into a monster before and turned completely back. In #4/5 of the 2020 noir run the cicada stone/pink meteor turns people into monsters, but not everyone. Huma turns, Shocker turns, Peter turns, and all the resurrected villains(one guy just explodes). But Hu-Ri and Checkpoint Red don’t, until Hu-Ri touches the stone. Huma and Peter are both in close proximity to eldritch beings, them turning into inspired versions of those beings make sense. The Shocker turns because he spent so much time holding onto the stone, whereas Red hasn't. But notice Shocker and Hu-Ri don’t turn into an animal inspired version of themselves like Huma and Peter do, he becomes more of a hulk like creature, because he isn’t attached to an other-worldly being. And when Peter turned back he essentially said “that hurt like a bitch” and kept moving.

If we want to keep with the canon noir timeline and going with the idea that the Spider god is either continuously changing Peter, or just changing him during resurrections this would explain the webbing and mood/personality change from the 2009 comics to the 2020 comics. But that’s boring and too simple and I hate the time jump so fuck that shit.(again another post).

So let’s focus back on ‘Ship of Theseus’ in the context of resurrection. We have too many questions about the process of resurrection for spider noir to properly have this conversation, but I’m going to try anyways. Let’s hit what we know again: resurrection changes your brain chemistry/structure, the spider god is changing Peter throughout the series, Peter has possibly had three resurrections, the spider god resurrected Peter from a different dimension, which confirms this is a multidimensional being(if she exists but shhhh). So now that we’ve established that there are changes happening to Peter(one way or another) we know that the spider god is ‘repairing’ Peter throughout the series or ‘replacing his boards’ so to speak.

At what point is this no longer Peter? Is it when he is no longer recognizable as a human? Or is it when there is nothing left in his mind to resurrect? Or has this never been Peter, or rather not since his first resurrection when he got his powers? Is this change sudden or slow? Is it the resurrection that turns him into something else, is it slow build up like an Iodine Clock titration and one day he just wakes up no longer human, or is it a slow process of subtle changes? But if the latter, what’s the change that does it? What defines Peter’s humanity? Does it matter if he’s human or not? Does it change anything for him if he’s no longer human in body and mind?

Part of the answer may lie in the villains we see through the 2009 and 2020 runs. In the first run the main villains were the Goblin and the Vulture. Both who were implied to not be human or having physical inhuman qualities(but I’m partially ignoring the whole carney thing cause honestly it’s ableist and boring). In Eyes Without A Face, the second run, the main villains are the Crime Master and Dr. Octavious, both humans with no inhuman or supernatural qualities. For simplicity sake, let’s focus on Octavious and Goblin. In comparing the two I think most people would agree Octavious is the more heinous of the two. Goblin takes on the role of a mob boss. He runs a crime empire, exploiting the defenseless in New york. It’s nothing new and he’s even somewhat sympathetic ‘I’m finished with freakshows’, you can understand how he got where he is. This is not to say he isn’t a villain but he very much fits the ‘villain with a tragic backstory’. People look at him like he is a monster, we, the reader, start out the story knowing what he is.

Whereas Octavious is not even remotely sympathetic because there is no empathizing with how he ended up there and why he does what he does. He is not only othered by his actions but also by the narrative for his disability(it’s important to acknowledge the ableism in his story but that is another post). Ultimately his delusions and the acts he commits make him a much more sinister monster than Norman, despite Norman actually having stereotypical qualities of a monster.

Then we have Huma and Shocker from the 2020 run. Huma is the closest person we see who is in a similar situation to Peter in terms of the spider god. While we don’t know all the details, whether she is the same as Peter, bearing a curse of power, or the actual god. Either way she presents as human and is not treated differently than any other human woman. At the end of the series we realize how corrupt she is and that she’s been working with Nazi’s, not necessarily for the ideology but to achieve what she wants. Her transformation is the nail in her coffin of her monsterous perception. The question is did we need her to look like a monster to see her as one?

In general we are left with more questions and theories than answers.

But onto my subjective answers to the questions. My answers might change over time so don’t hold me to them.

Of course it matters if Peter has humanity. Peter Parker across the board is one of the characters who HAS to hold himself to a moral code or he falls apart and becomes the villain(well maybe not the villain but you know what I mean) of the story. He holds back during fights and has a no kill policy for a reason.(Good men don’t need rules, today is not the day to find out why I have so many.-dr.who) But noir Peter isn’t your typical Peter. He kills, he maims, he doesn’t hold back. With that said, he still is held together by his morality. It’s just different than what we are used to seeing from Peter, but don’t mistake that as a lack of morality. However, do I think it’s a very real possibility that this morality could be eroded over time especially considering his home world and the above circumstances? Absolutely. Peter is someone who historically needs someone to ground him and ‘make’ him human. This is normally May Parker, Mary Jane, Gwen Stacy, occasionally Harry Osborn, Daredevil, Johnny Storm, and Flash Thompson, and the ghost of Ben Parker. Dude lives by a passing saying of a dead relative, he clearly doesn’t have a super solid moral compass. I think this is part of the reason the noir comics kept his relationship with May and Mary Jane(I disagree but whatever whatever), because he needs support to stay grounded.

Now, under what circumstances is Peter no longer Peter? I’m going with the Iodine Clock titration theory. Just drop after drop of ‘changes’ and morally questionable decisions that don’t seem to hold much weight, until he does something truly off the reservation. Like seeing himself do something truly horrific that a couple years ago he would have never done and shocking himself out of it. Or looks in the mirror and doesn’t see a person staring back. For either circumstance, because he’s appalled with himself or struck by the fact he doesn’t really care. This is not to say I don’t think he could come back from this but holy shit will it be a process.

But it brings us back to ‘If there is too much power then it is the responsibility of the people to take it away.’ Peter losing his humanity puts him in the Goblin’s place as the one with great power that cannot be trusted from the first comic. Whether it’s the resurrections, the spider god ‘replacing’ parts of him, or him just being pushed to the brink mentally that does it. Whether the change is physical, neurological, spiritual, or mental. This ‘Peter’ is not the Peter we first meet in 1932.

This is a different ship, and you can sail and stay on the same course in memory of, or under the false pretense of being, the original as many times as you want, but you cannot bring back the parts you replaced and undo the ‘improvements’ you made. But that doesn’t need to make Peter a monster.

#2.2k words later… #the long awaited ship of Theseus post #spidernoir analysis #by me. I’ve been waiting to talk about this #and has been in my draft 90% done for A MONTH #rabid behavior #this is literally so long I will be happy if I get two likes #cannot believe I used a Dr.who quote for this #spider noir conspiracies #Spider-Man noir #spider noir #spiderman #into the spiderverse #across the spiderverse #spidergeddon #moon knight #moonknight: Midnight mission #Khonshu #spidergod #resurrection #death tw #marc spector #jake lockley #steven grant #steven with a v #comics #peter benjamin parker #marvel #ship of theseus #the inheritors

[perhaps-in-anotherdream]

[CN] Victor x MC – S2 CH 46 (Eng Translation - Part 2)

“Perhaps you are the god sent from the heavens to protect me.”

“Who exactly are you?”

Do remember to read Part 1 first: Here!

⌚ This post contains detailed spoilers for a chapter that is yet to be released on the global server. ⌚  

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

【CH 46-13, after part 1】

The airport lobby is packed with people. As pedestrians pass by the man, they all instinctively give him a wide berth, without even a sidelong glance.

MC: This isn’t rejection at all! It’s like the world has given you a “golden finger,” even more powerful than the “invisibility” Evol!

MC: Vic-Vic, do you think you can become rich by being an invisible person?

Man (Victor): [chuckles softly]  Talking nonsense again.

Despite his words, a subtle smile forms at the corners of his lips. After a pause, he speaks again.

Man (Victor): Moving on––

My phone suddenly rings, and Anna’s name pops up on the screen. I mouth an apology to him and hastily answer the call.

MC: Anna, is there something you need me for?

Anna: MC, you finally answered the phone! I couldn’t reach you earlier, and there multiple pending tasks that need your authorization.

Anna: The previous advertising partners came to our office and informed us that the contract will expire next month. Additionally, we need to finalize the theme for the upcoming season of our program…

MC: Ask Minor to reach out to several advertising companies with the outstanding performance last year and inquire about their interest in collaboration and pricing. If the cost-effectiveness is not better than our current arrangement, we can proceed with contract renewal.

MC: As for the program theme, ask Kiki and the team to propose a few potential directions and send them to my email for review. I’ll try to finalize it within the next two days...

After ending the call, I notice that Vic-Vic is looking at me with a profound expression on his face.

MC: What’s wrong? You haven’t felt any new signs of rejection, have you?

Man (Victor): No, I haven’t. I was just surprised to see that you, who acted so recklessly in the desert, would still have a sense of order when it comes to work.

MC: …

So, is this how he viewed me when we were in the desert?

Feeling a bit indignant, I make up my mind to change his impression of me. So, with a firm grip on the man’s arm, I walk in large strides toward the airport exit.

MC: I acted that way only because I was in an unfamiliar environment. And now, you’re the one who needs to get familiar with the surroundings.

MC: In Loveland City, you need to stick close to me, your host!

The footsteps behind me closely follow, and after a moment, a voice interspersed with helplessness and amusement pass by my ear.

Man (Victor): [extremely helpless, indulgent chuckle]  …dummy.

—

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

—

【CH 46-15】

The sunlight seeps through the cracks between branches and leaves, casting warm and cozy light and shadows onto the city in the afternoon.

I purchase a set of casual clothes for Vic-Vic. After changing out of that weathered suit, we step out of the store. As we walk, I pause and gesture towards the faraway direction.

MC: That direction leads to the central hospital. It’s only a ten-minute walk straight ahead. There's also a square in the vicinity, which is perfect for leisurely strolls and relaxation...

My fingertips dance in the air, gently tapping on the distant skyscrapers.

MC: See that building? That’s LFG, the number one financial giant in the country!

MC: It has ventured into many industries. My company was on the brink of bankruptcy, but fortunately, we received their capital injection and made a remarkable comeback…

The man listens quietly, his gaze lingering on the imposing silhouette of the building for a long, long time, as if lost in deep rumination. There is a touch of wistfulness in his eyes and the faint furrow of his brows.

As I watch his silent profile, a sudden pang of unbearable emotions pierces through my heart.

What would this person’s life have been like in the past? Would it have mirrored his current demeanor, occasionally taking moments to pause and gaze at the distant scenery?

While I don’t know what he must have been through that shaped him into his current state, I can’t help feeling that he shouldn’t be so lonely and alone.

The mirage he saw, the person he’s been relentlessly searching for, must surely be someone who had been by his side all along, right?

A bitter tang involuntarily overwhelms my heart. I let out a quiet sigh, speaking softly.

MC: Well, since there’s no rush anyway, let’s rest here for a while.

MC: First, I’ll buy some things for you nearby. I’ll come back to find you shortly. Wait for me here, okay?

The man remains silent and simply gives a quiet nod.

I hurriedly dash to the nearby supermarket and pick up some essential daily supplies. Inadvertently, my gaze sweeps across the store windows, but I don’t see his figure.

I can’t help but freeze for a moment, setting down the shopping basket under the perplexed gaze of the shop assistant, and hastily rush out of the store.

…was he ostracized and forced back into that disordered space? Or did he run into some kind of danger?

As my pace involuntarily quickens more and more, I trot back to the footbridge, anxiously looking around in all directions.

Amidst scattered pedestrians on the stairs and the dense dancing shadows of trees on the street corners… until my gaze crosses over the bushes by the roadside, I finally spot that figure.

He is half-squatted in the sandpit at the center of the street park, his gaze lowered as he observes something intently.

Encircled by the playful and joyous children, his tall, slender physique seems somewhat inharmonious. Yet, he remains completely unaffected, silently gazing at the palm of his hand.

It feels as if my heart, which was hanging in the air, has finally found its place to settle. I release a long-awaited breath of relief and quickly cross the road, taking a few quick strides until I reach him.

MC: How did you end up here? You scared me.

Man (Victor): A kid suddenly kicked his ball onto the road, and I stopped it.

As he says this, his gaze remains fixed on the sand particles in his hand, as if he is lost in memories.

Unable to resist my curiosity, I find myself squatting down beside him, asking him softly.

MC: You’ve been staring at it in a daze. Did it trigger any memories for you?

Man (Victor): No… but it feels somewhat familiar.

Man (Victor): It feels like… I may have experienced something similar in the past.

Something slightly stirs inside me, and a blurry silhouette seems to appear before my eyes. Despite my efforts to recollect, the details elude my memory.

MC: It’s probably a sense of déjà vu.

MC: I have this persistent feeling that I used to play like this when I was a kid.

I speak while patting the sand mound several times, and with my fingertips, I causally poke a few holes and mold them into a rudimentary sandcastle.

MC: For instance, playing soccer or building sandcastles… it seems like these games are an integral part of everyone’s childhood.

The man’s eyes land on the outline of the sandcastle, and a flicker of light dances within his gaze.

He remains silent and simply loosens his grip, allowing the fine sand to slowly trickle through his fingers. Then, he turns his gaze to my empty palms. 

Man (Victor): What about the things you went to buy?

—

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

—

【CH 46-16】

I follow his gaze, and feeling a bit embarrassed, I place my hands behind my back.

MC: I was in such a rush to find you that I left before settling the bill.

MC: …you’re not allowed to call me a “dummy”!

Before the man can say anything, I fix my gaze on his somewhat helpless expression and subconsciously begin to refute. He gives me a slightly teasing glance and speaks in a low voice.

Man (Victor): Seems like someone feels guilty.

MC: This is called “taking precaution in advance”! It’s not like you haven’t said it before, remember?

MC: Let’s go. It’s not too late to go together now, and you can also pick some other items that might come in handy.

I counter with a self-righteous air, and upon hearing the man with apparent helplessness, he unhurriedly follows behind me.

I can’t help but curl up the corners of my lips, and my steps also become a little brisker.

??: It’s been a while, QUEEN.

Hearing that word now makes me startled like a skittish bird. I involuntarily hold my breath and look toward the source of the sound.

A young man stands next to the display window of a designer toy store, his emerald green eyes firmly locked on me.

He appears very young, but there is a serenity in his eyes that belies his age.

MC: Who are you? Have we met before?

Eos: In this world, you can address me as Eos. To be precise, this marks our first encounter.

The young man’s reply is delivered in an unhurried manner, carrying a sense of calmness that seems out of sync with the fast-paced times.

Eos: During our previous encounter in the Land of Advent, I faced various constraints and could only appear cloaked. I apologize for any inconvenience caused.

–

[Tidbits]: Eos is referring to S2 CH 37; but now they remember it as erased and altered of the details where Victor was involved~ (┳Д┳)

–

Eos… the Land of Advent?

With these words, the memories of that moment when I was forced to reveal my identity in front of the main gods come rushing back to me.

Once again, as I recall the disheveled and anxious state from that time, my jaws tighten slightly.

At this moment, the man seems to sense the stalemate between me and Eos. He stands behind me and gently pats my shoulder.

A sudden boost of confidence surfaces in my restless heart. I subtly shake my head to reassure the man and lift my gaze to look at Eos.

MC: So, the great generation of the first gods reveals himself to me in his true form. What message do you have for me?

Eos: It just so happens that I spotted you, and I was wondering if you could do me a favor.

As if not picking up on the sarcasm in my tone, Eos points to a doll displayed in the shop window.

Eos: I wish to purchase this, but I’m unsure why, the shop assistant informed me that I’m not eligible.

MC: …

I didn’t anticipate the other party to speak in this kind of a deadpan tone about such a matter. But I still muster my patience and go over to take a look at the label.

MC: This doll is a merchandise from a virtual reality game developed by a company called Infinite.

MC: You need to buy their blind box first, which has a chance of containing closed beta experience vouchers for the game. Then, within the game, you can obtain the eligibility to make the purchase…

MC: In short, it’s not something you can simply buy with money.

Eos: So that’s how it is…

Eos casts a glance at the game promotional poster on the side and shakes his head.

Eos: The commercial norms in this world are far more intricate than what I observed in my records, yet the technological advancement is so far behind… never mind, it’s a waste of time.

What is this person talking about? Could it be that he came from another world?

As I ponder in my mind, Eos’s green eyes happen to shift onto my face.

Eos: Speaking of which, there are traces of fragments from many worlds on you. Have you been on a trip recently?

MC: What trip… hold on, how do you know I’ve recently traveled to many worlds?

Eos: The spacecraft Bennu, which I traveled on, was constructed using the power of QUEEN to establish interdimensional travel routes. As the QUEEN yourself, it’s natural for you to go on such trips.

–

[Tidbits]: The spacecraft Bennu is a reference to West Moon CH 10; where MC’s master aka Eos, explained to her how Victor had used his heart’s blood and the Demon King’s Pact to tear open the space-time rift caused by “Bennu” flying and sent the QUEEN aka MC to the past~ (┳Д┳)

–

I’m slightly taken aback by the person’s sudden matter-of-fact tone. Why is he suddenly being so prompt with his responses?

Although the answers don’t quite align with what I was expecting, I’m able to extract the key point from them––

This person is very familiar with navigating through different worlds.

— could it be possible to take advantage of the information gap between me and him to trick him into divulging something?

I swiftly glance at the man next to me. Perhaps I can also help him retrieve some of the things that belong to him.

MC: Haha, yeah, but it’s still quite laborious for me to travel between worlds. After all, I still need to navigate through disordered space during the transition.

Eos: Disordered space?

A trace of surprise crosses Eos’s face when he hears the term, but it doesn’t seem like he is unfamiliar with it.

Eos: It seems that you haven’t yet found the correct approach to utilize your power, which is why you find yourself in that realm of exile.

Eos: It’s best to steer clear of that place.

MC: Why should I steer clear?

Eos: It’s not safe. If you meet someone who has been banished by time there, your own time and space regulations will be disrupted.

Eos: And if you have prolonged interaction with someone who doesn’t exist in this world, even as QUEEN, you will still be affected.

People banished by time? Someone who doesn’t exist in this world? He couldn’t be referring to someone like Vic-Vic, could he?

A pang of bitterness wells up in my heart, and I anxiously press for more information.

MC: Is it possible for those who have been banished to return to their original world?

Eos: I’m not sure. I haven’t encountered a similar situation.

Eos’s voice pauses, and there’s a touch of interest in his tone.

Eos: Have you met someone like that?

MC: No, no.

I immediately deny it. Even though his tone is friendly now, I can’t forget the previous instance where he had provided assistance only to backstab later.

MC: I just… uh…

Man (Victor): You can say that you’re curious whether your power, in turn, would have an impact on the banished individuals.

As I find myself stumbling for words, a deep voice lands in my ear. I hastily repeat what he says. Eos mulls it over for a moment.

Eos: You can try to get that person to establish a connection with the world.

Eos: With someone to bind them, there may be a reason for them to leave their mark on the world.

MC: A bond, huh… I understand now. Thank you.

Although I’m unsure of why he is being so generous this time, I still politely thank him.

After glancing at the toy in the display window again, Eos lifts his foot and walks past me. However, just as he brushes by, he suddenly stops and offers me a smile.

Eos: If you make any progress with that person who has been banished, you can contact me. It used to be one of my research alternatives as well.

His radiant green eyes seem to pierce through my face and fixate on the figure of “non-existent” Vic-Vic behind me.

Before I can gather my thoughts, Eos has already turned around and walked into the crowd, disappearing from sight in an instant.

I blink my eyes and turn around, forcing a wry smile as I look at the man.

MC: Unfortunately, he didn’t tell us much useful information either…

Man (Victor): It’s okay. It’s already enough.

The man withdraws his gaze from the spot where EOS has disappeared and speaks softly.

Man (Victor): Didn’t you say we were going to the supermarket? Let’s go.

I nod my head. But as the supermarket gets closer and closer, I find myself unconsciously slowing down my steps.

Once he settles down, doesn’t that mean he will have established a connection with the world?

Does that mean he will no longer need me in his future life?

Almost as if guided by a mysterious force, I point towards the riverbank not far away.

MC: …I-I just remembered that there’s an event tonight on the cruise ship, and I can you take there.

MC: We can buy daily necessities later. Would you like to go and see the river view?

I glance at the person next to me and extend an invitation as I pretend to be natural. But the ending notes of my voice trail off involuntarily.

A silence envelopes my ears, and the man doesn’t respond. I begin to feel a little apprehensive, but a moment later, I hear him speak.

Man (Victor): [chuckles very softly and a little knowingly]  Hmm, then let’s see the night of Loveland City.

–

[Anika’s Notes]: !!! Despite all the obviously painful call-backs, this “the feeling of the whole city under your feet at night dispels your anxiety” call-back somehow pierces my kokoro in places I cannot explain––  (┳Д┳)

—

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

—

【CH 46-17】

The river water glistens, and the cruise ship docked beside the pier is also bathed in the twilight. Vaguely, we can see a few scattered shadows on the deck.

I straighten my skirt and hand the electronic invitation on my phone to the waiter. They quickly scan it, and a warm smile lightens up their face.

Waiter: Miss MC, welcome aboard!

Waiter: The meals and drinks are all prepared. Please make yourself comfortable and enjoy. The ship will depart shortly.

I nod and leisurely step onto the gangway. It’s only when there is nobody around do I quietly whisper to the person next to me.

MC: How is it? The scenery here is very beautiful, isn’t it~

The man gazes at the scenery on both sides, and a subtle smile carrying a sense of solace graces his eyes. It’s an expression I’ve rarely seen on him.

Man (Victor): [laughs softly]  It’s not bad.

As I watch his rarely relaxed side profile, the corners of my lips can’t help but curl up slightly. I tilt my head and gaze at the scenery on the river.

The lights in the nearby and far-off office buildings are lit up, creating shimmering reflections on the river’s surface, reminiscent of a flowing galaxy. The sound of a steam whistle shatters the brief silence as the cruise ship slowly moves forward.

The realization of having to part with him upon reaching the shore dominates my thoughts. I involuntarily smooth down my windblown hair while fixating my gaze on the river’s surface, speaking softly.

MC: After you’ve settled into your place, you’ll need to think about your source of income, right? If you need any help, you can come to me for anything.

MC: [MC’s Company Name] sometimes needs to conduct undercover interviews, and you should be able to handle them with ease.

Man (Victor): Are you this worried for just about anyone?

MC: …I certainly am not. It’s the fact that I’ve been through “life and death perils” together with you, so I’ll do the best of my abilities to help.

While speaking, a faint rumble suddenly emanates from my stomach. I cough lightly and shift the subject as if nothing has happened.

MC: I just noticed they’ve set up a buffet over there. Tonight, you can indulge yourself in a sumptuous feast!

Man (Victor): [chuckles teasingly]  I suppose it’s not me who wants to indulge in a sumptuous feast, is it?

As I listen to his proficient teasing, a momentary glimpse of something seems to cross my mind, but I’m unable to grasp onto it. I let out a soft “humph” and walk with him to the buffet area, selecting a few dishes.

After just savoring the first bite of the crunchy lamb chop, the succulent and tender flavor instantly causes me to blissfully squint my eyes.

MC: Crispy on the outside, tender on the inside. So yummy!

Man (Victor): [sounds like subconsciously musing to himself]  The lamb meat is fresh and not gamy. Indeed, it’s good. If it’s pan-seared with a little less heat and seasoned with white pepper powder, the texture would be even better.

I find myself somewhat amazed as I listen–– though, to be fair, he has already brought me numerous unexpected surprises.

MC: Were you a food connoisseur before? Or maybe a chef?

He half-jokingly lifts the corners of his lips.

Man (Victor): [chuckles teasingly]  What? Do you still need to hire a chef?

MC: Well, it’s not entirely off the table…

??: Miss MC.

I haven’t yet finished my sentence when I hear a cordial greeting suddenly coming from behind me. I turn around and find myself facing a man dressed in a suit who holds glasses of wine, approaching me with a beaming smile on his face.

Taking a few steps forward, he seamlessly positions himself in the gap between me and the man.

Man (Victor): [clearly irritated by the audacity]  …

The man furrows his brows slightly. Without showing any outward sign, I silently take a half-step back, the corners of my lips curling into a subtle professional smile.

Sun Jing: The name’s Sun Jing, the one who contacted you via email. Thank you so much for doing us the honor of attending this networking event.

MC: Thank you as well for providing this opportunity to admire the night view. On that note, your company has quite a reputation in the advertising industry.

MC: Our company is currently exploring potential new advertising partners for the upcoming year. I was wondering if there might be an occasion for us to work together?

Sun Jing smiles, and with perfect composure, he hands me one of the wine glasses.

Sun Jing: Absolutely. It’s just that the price quote for this year hasn’t been finalized yet. Once it goes through the departmental review, it will still need to be passed on to the board of directors for approval.

MC: Is that how it is? Well, in that case, please let us know as soon as there are any updates so that we can make the preparations accordingly.

Sun Jing: For sure. I’m also looking forward to the prospect of collaborating with a reputable company like [MC’s Company Name].

As Sun Jing speaks, his gaze casually sweeps over the wine glass in my hand. And then he turns around and walks away.

I withdraw my gaze and subtly straighten my posture.

MC: Ahem, did you hear that? [MC’s Company Name] is well-regarded in the industry. Once you’ve settled in, you can consider the proposal I just made.

I lift my wine glass as I speak, but the man stops me before it can touch my lips.

Man (Victor): There is something a little odd about what that person said.

MC: What do you mean?

Perplexed, I elevate my gaze and observe the man as he watches the other’s party’s receding figure, furrowing my brows slightly.

Man (Victor): The price quotes of advertising agencies vary depending on the scale and type of projects, and there is no standardized flat rate quote listed in a table.

Man (Victor): The board of directors only focuses on reviewing and approving operational decisions, and they rarely get involved in documents of this nature.

MC: …how do you have such detailed knowledge about this? 

Man (Victor): Just intuition.

The man withdraws his gaze while he speaks, but his tone carries an unquestionable sense of certainty.

Man (Victor): His words just now don’t hold up when examined closely.

Man (Victor): Are you sure he is the person you interacted with regarding business matters?

MC: Kiki was the one in charge of handling the coordination before, and I actually haven’t met him before…

The evening breeze from the river seems to give me a start, suddenly putting me on high alert. I scan the surroundings without betraying any emotions and can’t help but break out into a cold sweat.

Perhaps his words have triggered a sense of suspicion in me, as I can’t shake the feeling that the bearings of the guests on the ship seem somewhat unnatural.

Feigning an expression of watching the riverside scenery, I speak to the man.

MC: Something doesn’t feel right. I have this nagging feeling that quite a few people here are keeping a close eye on me?

Man (Victor): Why don’t we verify it, then? The area behind the cabin is a blind spot where your view can be obstructed. Let’s go there and wait for a few minutes.

Man (Victor): If they really entertain ulterior motives, they might also come closer to ensure you remain within their sight range.

After pondering for a moment, I act as if the wind is making me cold and shiver, positioning myself towards one side of the cabin.

The heavy iron plates separate me from the view of others. I suppress my wildly beating heart and carefully observe the long, narrow aisle.

Sure enough, footsteps resonate outside the passageway. Several guests seem to nonchalantly walk nearby, but their gazes dart toward me intermittently.

…it’s not just unfounded suspicion. These people are indeed observing my every move.

I exhale a light breath, watching as the man wanders among the guests for a while, seemingly listening intently to something. As he approaches me, his face takes on a graver demeanor.

MC: Did you hear anything just now?

The man glances at those suspicious-looking individuals.

Man (Victor): Almost everyone on the ship is Mr. Sun’s people.

Man (Victor): Something was also added to the drink he gave you earlier.

I slightly tighten my grip on the wine glass, my heart tightening as well.

To rephrase this, I was ensnared in a trap from the moment I set foot on this cruise ship.

—

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

—

【CH 46-19】

Beneath the drapery of the night, silence permeates the river’s surface, occasionally cut through by the slow sailing of one or two cruise ships. But they always remain at a considerable distance.

Currently, calling for help may not ensure our escape from danger and could instead beat the grass to scare the snakes.

I force myself to calm down and lift the wine glass to my lips, speaking in a hushed tone.

MC: We need to make them expose their intentions so that we can act accordingly, don’t you think?

The man seems to realize something, as a subtle sense of disapproval crests between his eyebrows.

Man (Victor): Pretending to be unconscious is equivalent to surrendering the initiative, which involves a significant amount of risk.

MC: Of course, I’m aware of that. But, it’s only when I successfully “become unconscious” that they can lower their guard and reveal their true color.

MC: As for the risks… with an exclusive trump card like you by my side, I have nothing to fear.

MC: Perhaps you are the god sent from the heavens to protect me.

I pretend to remain calm as I speak, but my voice betrays a barely perceptible tremor. The man’s gaze lands on my face, and he suddenly speaks.

Man (Victor): [sighs, carrying an undertone of complex emotions]  Does this classify as employment?

I freeze for a moment, but then I smile, slightly raising my lips.

MC: Mhm, I’ll pay you ten times your regular salary.

I speak while raising the glass, pretending to have finished the drink under the watchful eyes of the individuals at different proximities.

Then, I pretend to lean against the railing, giving the impression of being slightly drunk. After a brief moment, I hear him remind me.

Man (Victor): Mr. Sun is checking his watch; it’s about time.

Steeling my heart, I shut my eyes and topple straight backward.

At the right moment before I would’ve landed on the deck, the pain I anticipated didn’t hit me. Instead, my back is gently cradled by a touch.

Man (Victor): [the tone of “Victor-indulgent-exasperation”]  Are you a dummy? Couldn’t you have fallen sideways?

As I surreptitiously pout my lips, I hear a brief lull in the distant conversations, followed by the sound of approaching footsteps.

Man (Victor): He is coming towards you.

Man (Victor): Relax a bit, don’t squeeze your eyes shut so tightly. The quivering of your eyelashes is too obvious.

MC: …

Heeding the suggestion, I adjust my expression accordingly. Almost immediately, I hear Mr. Sun’s probing voice ringing out.

Sun Jing: Miss MC? Are you feeling unwell?

Sun Jing: Do you need me to call a doctor for you? Miss MC?

I remain completely motionless, my eyes shut tightly, letting him impatiently call out to me several times without giving out any reaction whatsoever.

After a brief silence in my ears, a cold snort reaches me. The anxiety in Sun Jing’s voice has now been replaced by a frigid coldness.

Sun Jing: All good, she’s passed out.

Sun Jing: Hurry and tie her up. You guys, go to the cockpit.

As his words echo, my wrist is gripped without warning, and I’m dragged a few steps before being forcefully pushed, causing my back to collide with the wall.

In front of me is pitch-black darkness, with only the sensation of coldness coursing through my wrist. Then, in the next second, something rough and coarse coils around my wrist.

I exert myself to restrain my shudder and hear a familiar voice speak up.

Man (Victor): [softly]  Don’t be afraid, it’s just a rope. He doesn’t have any weapons to harm you with.

With the reassuring certitude, my strained nerves are finally able to relax a little.

While my eyes remain shut, I hear hurried footsteps fading away and then returning, followed by someone speaking in a low voice.

??: Boss, everything has been set up.

Sun Jing: Then don’t waste any more time. Lower the speedboat immediately.

Sun Jing: The only way we can ensure the organization’s efforts were not in vain is by pushing the blame for this woman’s death onto those people.

Organization… could they be members of GR? Or is it BS?

Sun Jing: When the moment comes, and NW finds evidence pointing to BS, it will be a spectacle to watch those Evolvers fighting like dogs amongst themselves!

Given their hostile attitude towards Evolvers, undoubtedly, they are from GR. But why would they want NW to implicate BS?

As my thoughts are racing at lightning speed, I suddenly hear the man speak in a low voice.

?? (Victor): How did it come to a point where even lives are at stake?

?? (Victor): Is this the “industry giant structure” you want to recruit me into?

MC: …

I exhale slowly, still maintaining an expressionless face as if I were in a deep state of unconsciousness, and listen to the footsteps gradually receding into the distance.

The surroundings lapse into quietude, and I can faintly hear the sound of the waves.

Man (Victor): Don’t be scared, they’ve all left.

Accompanied by the sound of his voice, the rope tightly binding my wrists is sliced into several segments, falling onto the deck.

I heave a sigh of relief and open my eyes, only to see that the deck that was brimming with laughter and voices earlier has suddenly become devoid of any human presence.

The only sound present is the sound of the ship cutting through the waves, enveloping us from all directions.

MC: Where have they all gone?

Man (Victor): They have already disembarked from the ship.

I cast a suspicious glance across the desk but don’t notice any peculiarities. After mulling for a moment, I turn to him with a hint of helplessness.

MC: It’s often said that a bystander can see things more objectively than those involved. Can you help me analyze the current situation?

Man (Victor): [visibly taken aback]  …this is a matter of life and death. Are you sure you want to seek the help of someone you’ve only known for such a short time?

MC: It’s stemmed from my trust in you! Furthermore, judging from what we’ve just experienced, I think you have strong analytical abilities.

The man arches his eyebrow slightly, suggesting he has no objections.

MC: Actually, I have a special kind of power in me…

I try to organize my words as comprehensively and succinctly as possible, explaining to him the “CORE” in me, the attacks by GR, and the persistent undercurrents in this ostensibly peaceful world.

MC: …lately, GR’s actions have either been forced to cease or they have failed to achieve their goal.

MC: I initially thought they would lay low for some time, but today they hastily devised this plan…

The man ruminates intently for a while, then shakes his head.

Man (Victor): Based on what you’ve told me, it seems more like they are already at the end of their rope.

MC: What?

Man (Victor): I’m unclear about the backgrounds of these organizations you mentioned. But in the business world, well-operated companies usually proceed in any direction with caution and thorough planning.

Man (Victor): Conversely, companies that have existing problems are more likely to take risks in order to secure funding.

Deep in contemplation, I prop my chin with one hand, my tone unconsciously tinged with admiration as I speak.

MC: How come I didn’t consider it from this angle before? Indeed, this sort of radical behavior can be explained if they’re in a do-or-die situation.

MC: Your analysis is so strategically discerning… who knows, maybe you were in charge of a company that was even more formidable than LFG!

A smile, carrying with it a hint of helplessness, steaks through the man’s eyes.

Man (Victor): [chuckles helplessly]  Exaggerating again.

MC: I’m being serious, you––

My words are abruptly interrupted by the sound of machinery operating beneath my feet. Accompanied by a slight vibration, the cruise ship, which has been at a standstill, suddenly resumes its functions.

Caught off guard, I find myself falling onto the sofa and grasping the railing with one hand, a hint of nervousness taking over my voice.

MC: Weren’t those people already gone?

MC: Then how could the cruise ship be moving forward on its own?

—

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

—

【CH 46-20】

The cruise ship races through the river, swiftly cutting through the layers of waves like an arrow. In the distance, the pier begins to come into view, its outline faintly becoming visible amidst the darkness of the night.

The man and I quickly rush towards the cabin. But as soon as we open the door to the cockpit, we can’t help but be frozen in place.

On the massive dashboard, dozens of push buttons are densely arranged, and the text on them has become blurred and difficult to read.

The clock inlaid on the edge seems to be coated with a layer of oily film, flickering with a dim, red light.

I hurriedly take several steps forward, while my eyes dart around anxiously.

MC: Why are there no signs anywhere…

The man lifts his hand and grasps the helm, making a forceful turn without the slightest hesitation. Despite so, the cruise ship shows no sign of steering whatsoever and continues its direct course to advance toward the pier.

Man (Victor): …the navigation system is locked, and the helm now is just a mere ornament.

While we are talking, the outline of the pier becomes increasingly clear on our horizon. If this continues, the cruise ship will inevitably collide with the pier, resulting in a public accident!

I anxiously open my phone and begin searching. I can feel my fingertips tremble.

MC: Operating instructions… there must be driving manuals or guides available online for this type of cruise ship…

Man (Victor): I’ll give it a shot.

My head shoots up, a flicker of consternation crossing my eyes.

MC: You…

Man (Victor): There are many things I don’t remember, but it seems like I have a sense of how things are done.

Man (Victor): It’s like the feeling I had when I could detect the loopholes in those peoples’ conversations before. I have an analogous feeling now too.

Man (Victor): Are you willing to take a gamble with me?

A familiar conversation echoes in my ears, only this time, the person who has to respond is myself.

I find myself struggling to curl my lips into a smile, gazing into his eyes.

MC: Absolutely! Although I don’t know why, I feel like everything will be alright with you here.

The man nods and stands in front of the dashboard for a brief moment before decisively pressing several buttons.

The sound of the control keys reverberates intermittently, while the red light on the dashboard casts a flickering reflection on the glass, sending waves of alarms through the mind.

I stand nervously on the side, watching as the bow of the ship approaches the direction of the pier at top speed. After the man presses a certain lever, there is a sudden jolt, and the speed gradually slows down.

My tense shoulders instantly loosen to some extent, and only then do I take a breath and exhale.

MC: I’m overthrowing my previous assumptions. With such skill in operating the ship, you must’ve been a wealthy magnate who owned multiple cruise ships.

The man glances at me, his jawline beaded with a sheen of sweat.

Man (Victor): Chef, CEO, wealthy magnate… how many more guesses do you have about my identity?

MC: After all, it seems like there’s nothing in this world that you can’t do!

I lean back against the wall as I speak, relaxing myself. Without meaning to, my palm supports itself on the surface of the clock casing in the corner of the control panel, staining it with a layer of grime.

I lower my head to wipe it off, but as I look closely, I notice the time jumping from 0:21 to 0:20 on the cleaned dial.

…are the digits on it moving backward?

As soon as this realization dawns on me, a wave of chillness instantly crawls through my entire body.

Accompanied by a deafening explosion, the colossal hull of the ship shakes violently, almost causing us to tumble in a downward trajectory.

As I stagger and careen to the side, my head collides with a warm chest. A hand swiftly shields my shoulder, pulling me into an embrace and keeping me away from the oncoming blast waves.

I don’t know how many minutes have gone by before the noise finally calms down. I rise to my feet, placing a hand over my numb chest in lingering fear, and then I hear the man speak in a deep voice.

Man (Victor): Move cautiously and stay alert to any sounds in the surroundings.

Man (Victor): If I were the one and my intention was to kill the person, I wouldn’t have just orchestrated a single round of explosion.

My heart can’t help but sink. The man helps me up, and we both survey our surroundings from all directions.

Man (Victor): The lower compartment beneath the ship’s hold must have already taken in water. Let’s go to the stern first.

Man (Victor): The fire will draw attention from nearby rescue teams. There should be people arriving before the ship sinks.

I nod indiscriminately, steadying myself against the nearby wall, and begin walking towards the stern along the now slightly tilted deck.

After taking a few steps, I suddenly hear a subtle sloshing sound amidst the waves.

My heart tightens. At lightning speed, I lean over the railing to peer outside, and my eyes are met with the sight of another box flickering with a terror-striking red light, pulsating in sync with the ship’s tumultuous motion.

The digits on the display have already jumped from 0:05 to 0:004. Knowing there’s no time to actually turn my head, I let out a violent shout.

MC: Watch out! There’s another bomb here!

An ear-shattering explosion erupts, and I’m hurled forcefully to the ground. My ears are flooded with a buzzing noise as I struggle to lift my head, only to find myself confronted by a searing surge of heat.

Instinctively, I use my arms to shield my head, bracing myself for the anticipated pain.

–– ***[the BGM pauses here for a few seconds, giving the impression as if your heart itself has stopped beating]***

All of a sudden, an astounding silence descends upon the surroundings, as if someone has pressed the pause button on the world.

I slowly open my eyes and see the crimson flames frozen motionless in the air. Countless luminous sparks and shattered shards of glass hang suspended, creating a spectacle of twinkling lights and shadows.

Amidst the frozen firelights, the man rushes towards me, his anxious eyes reflecting my figure.

I find myself in shock as I take everything in. It’s not until he reaches my side that I mumble––

MC: What did you do?

Man (Victor): [voice literally shaking like an earthquake]  I have no idea…

He casts his eyes down, gazing at his own palm, his eyes reflecting a mixture of complex emotions. After a brief moment, he finally speaks.

Man (Victor): No, I know.

Man (Victor): [voice still shaking]  I might have… paused time.

MC: Paused time…

I feel as if a key has opened a small crack, allowing a hazy light to shine into the murky depths of sealed memories.

–

[Tidbits]: Just a refresher— the memories MC describes here are the call-backs to S2 CH 25 (will come back to this later)~ ╥﹏╥

–

Not so long ago, amid the chaotic ruins, it appeared as though there was someone resolutely standing in front of me.

His voice pierced through the mayhem of falling rubbles, shouting my name over and over again;

The palm that reached out to me was oozing vivid red blood, enveloping me tightly in his arms;

I make a desperate effort to remember that almost palpable figure, but my mind seems to be covered by a heavy layer of dust.

Tears rain down unknowingly, and an indistinct ache lingers in a certain corner of my heart. I grasp the man’s hand in anguish and helplessness, holding onto it like a drowning person clinging to a piece of driftwood.

MC: [sobbing]  Why…

Why… who exactly are you?

Within the solidified flames, a black vortex suddenly materializes, accompanied by the unprompted sound of a mechanical violin. From within it, a person with hazed facial features walks out unhurriedly.

MC: …Zero?

I find myself momentarily stunned, as a slight sense of dissonance flickers in my mind. Why do I know this person’s name?

However, the other party’s gaze doesn’t rest on me but instead turns towards the person beside me.

Zero: [to Victor]  This is not a place where you can stay.

The black vortex abruptly swallows half of the man’s form, and Zero’s voice rises.

Zero: [to MC]  This is the inevitable price that Victor must bear… and so must you.

With the sound of these words, the speed of the swirling vortex suddenly accelerates.

MC: Wait… wait a moment, VICTOR!!

Without a moment’s thinking, I yell out this name instantly, as if I’ve uttered this name hundreds and thousands of times before.

MC: [sobbing]  I will definitely find you again!

Through the murky haze, I see the man’s head snap up. He parts his lips as if he is trying to say something.

In the next moment, his figure completely disappears into the vortex.

—

[Note]: CH 46 ends here, and it cuts into the next chapter. The following 2 monologues are about Victor, so I thought to include them~ :>

—

The hustle and bustle of the world resumes, making me feel a little disoriented.

The burning flames sting my eyes. However, no matter what, it cannot erase that disappearing figure from my mind.

BANG––

────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

✧ [Anika’s Analysis + Ramblings] ✧

this is long, like really really long. so a big hug from me beforehand haha ♡⁠(⁠˃͈⁠ ⁠દ⁠ ⁠˂͈⁠ ⁠༶⁠ ⁠)

—

#word count: 2.2K+ #HAHAHAHA I STILL HAVE SO MUCH TO SAY LMAO ANYWAY #BLESS VICTOR WRITERS IS MY CONCLUSION— (⁠｡⁠ŏ⁠﹏⁠ŏ⁠) #mlqc victor #mlqc li zeyan #mlqc #mr love victor #mr love queen's choice #恋与制作人 #李泽言 #love and producer #mlqc cn #mlqc spoilers #mlqc translations

[everlastiingiimmortals]

A Review of the Aeons: Insight into Jing Yuan's Perspective

Jing Yuan is an interesting character to me as someone who is at a crossroads between multiple Aeons. As a Xianzhou native, he is undeniably tied to Yaoshi -- his existence, in effect, is entirely thanks to them. As a Cloud Knight and more importantly an Arbiter-General, Jing Yuan not only aligns himself with Lan's goals but is a representation of the Hunt. And yet Jing Yuan himself does not stride upon the Path of the Hunt, but rather the Erudition. What does this mean for him? How has this impacted his outlook? How has it affected his life? These are a few of the questions I want to address, looking at it from the angles of his nature, his alignment, and his personality respectively.

I do want to make a strong clarification here before getting into the thick of it and reaffirm some things: any and all ties Jing Yuan may have to Nous are entirely my own headcanon and speculation. He has no explicit relation to Nous in game aside from being an Erudition character with respect to game mechanics.

So the first and most obvious thing to look at is Jing Yuan's nature. As a member of the Homo celestinae species (which, mind you, should be a species, not a subspecies, because a subspecies would be Homo sapien celestinae - sincerely, an ecology major) Jing Yuan has an immortal body thanks to the blessings of Yaoshi that precede even his time. There's a deep irony that comes with the existence of the Xianzhou Alliance as their goal is to destroy the very thing that effectively defined their existence. One could consider every single Xianzhou native to be a child of Yaoshi, in a sense. Most would not like that association. Jing Yuan himself actually... isn't affected it. He's well aware of the reason for his existence and that the birth of the Xianzhou cannot be removed from Yaoshi. In fact, Jing Yuan is also very aware of the good that can come of the Path of the Abundance. This is reflected in his desire to become a Galaxy Ranger as a child; he didn't start out hating Yaoshi despite being of the Alliance. That hatred was very much taught (and not unreasonably so). He certainly doesn't think favorably of Yaoshi -- he has been deeply affected by their Abominations, after all, and as an Arbiter-General he is also obligated to uphold the beliefs of the Alliance and protect the Xianzhou. What Jing Yuan doesn't like is the parallels between him and Yaoshi. Dealing with the Abundance as much as he has, naturally, leads to an intimate understanding of his enemy regardless of if he is happy about it or not. He understands the nature of Yaoshi's benevolence, and combined with his nightmare, he's very much unsettled by the idea of himself being associated with Yaoshi by way of his virtues, of his giving and self-sacrificial demeanor. I think... in a way, he can empathize with Yaoshi, to some extent, and that is what bothers him the most. Does he agree with the Abundance or align with their Path? No, of course not. But that does not mean he cannot see the reason for their existence, just as much as he can see the reason for their destruction. I think any interactions between him and Yaoshi, if they'd happen, would be nothing but tense and borderline hostile at the very least, but I'd also love to see how Jing Yuan would react to having to face the reason for his existence, the entity he's trying to destroy, the embodiment of his own values.

On the other side of the same coin, while Jing Yuan reflects the gentler aspects of Yaoshi, he also represents Lan as one of the Arbiter-Generals. He can be seen almost as an extension of Lan themself, along with the other Arbiter-Generals and the Marshal. We don't know if there are any Emanators of the Hunt, but if there were then the Arbiter-Generals would be the obvious choice (it's in the name!), much like how Nanook's Emanators are the commanders of their army. It seems like when the Arbiter-Generals speak, they do so on behalf not just of their respective ship, or the Alliance as a whole, but also on behalf of Lan when it comes to the other Aeons. Whether Lan assists them outside of affairs that deal specifically with the Abundance is unknown currently given that their entire existence revolves around eliminating the Abundance, and I believe this is ultimately left up to interpretation until we get more information, but we do know that Lan responds to the Alliance's call and is ultimately loyal to them, as they draw their power directly from the Hunt and not just their Path, so I don't think it's too far of a stretch to say that enemies made of the Alliance are also made of Lan themself -- but I digress. I do think it's very likely that Jing Yuan is one of seven Emanators of Lan, given that he states that no one can enter the Luofu without him knowing unless they are assisted by an Emanator of another Aeon. He's directly blessed by Lan, and I think this leads to him having heightened instincts and senses (which were already sharp to begin with!) to truly embody the idea of the Hunt. I like to think, too, that Lan chooses the Arbiter-Generals through a sign, whether it be light shining down on them or otherwise, rather than the generals being chosen through regular military promotion (more about this later). This makes the most sense with my previous analysis on the Arbiter-Generals and their pretty heavy overlap with the other Commissions. What this does is give the Arbiter-Generals a very credible status of divinity, quite literally directly given to them by Lan themself. ...However, it's important to note that Jing Yuan never desired this status. I've been wondering why he became a General if he never wanted to in the first place, and while I do believe he did so out of the love he had for the lost members of the HCQ and his love for the Luofu, I also think it makes a lot of sense if he didn't have a choice, because Lan chose him in the wake of Teng Xiao's death. Both led to this sense of obligation. How does one possibly reject everything they align themself with, after all? Jing Yuan's always admired the myths of the Hunt, ever since he was young. But as he grew and aged and continued to live, that admiration of heroic freedom slowly shed form and became an acute awareness of the ultimate doom of the Xianzhou. Either they collapse and burn out pursuing the Path of the Hunt (three of their ships have already fallen, after all), or they somehow succeed in their eternal, unending endeavors and the Reignbow Arbiter's reason for being ceases to exist. Then what? What happens after that? What happens to the Xianzhou? ...Can he just leave after understanding all that? He doesn't know. He doesn't think so. So he remains as one of Lan's Emanators dutifully, anticipating not just his own eventual end but that of the Alliance and the Hunt as well.

It's funny, then, to think about the fact that my Jing Yuan did reject an Aeon before he was selected as Lan's Emanator. At this point I've made no secret about the association I've drawn between Jing Yuan and the Erudition. Despite being an Emanator of Lan, he strides upon the Path of Erudition -- here I want to make an important distinction, because the wiki is a little misleading: the game never once states that Emanators must be initially, or subsequently, walking along the same Path as their Aeon, at least not as far as I could see (please feel free to correct me if this is not the case, though!). We also know that it is possible to not just change Paths, but also embrace the power of multiple Paths at once. I believe this to be the case for Jing Yuan; he just aligns more strongly with the Erudition in his personal philosophy, but overall greater encompasses the idea of the Hunt due to his role (and lets be real, gameplay wise he can be just as good as a Hunt character when fighting one on one, holy shit). Jing Yuan attracted the attention of Nous early, due to his natural affinity for tactics and his intelligence, and I've discussed the moment he caught Nous' gaze, and subsequently given an Eye of Nous much like Fu Xuan. This was, effectively, not just a gift but also an invitation to Nous' Temple: one that Jing Yuan rejected due to the horrors he foresaw upon catching Nous' gaze. I've mentioned this in a prior headcanon post, but due to his rejection and the fact that Jing Yuan also did not ask for the Eye, it is incomplete and does not grant him visions. I think that Jing Yuan very well could have joined Ruan Mei as a member of the Genius Society, had he not rejected the key to the Temple! But he did. Honestly, Jing Yuan holds no insignificant amount of dislike for Nous and the Genius Society; he knows there's no point, but he still holds a slight grudge against Nous for burdening him with that eye -- he's only human, after all, or at least he'd like to be that way. He often wonders if things would have been different at all if he hadn't foreseen what would have happened to the HCQ... if he would have ended up blaming himself less or not. There's no point in thinking about that either, but he occasionally does. He dislikes the Genius Society for an equally petty reason -- he thinks they're almost all snobs, truthfully, far too engrossed in their searches for the answers they seek to hold any compassion for others, and he simply cannot agree with that kind of mentality. Stephen Lloyd is perhaps the one that Jing Yuan would bear no disdain towards. So, then, why does he still stride upon the Path of Erudition, or rather how does he do so while representing the Hunt? It's simple: his wisdom and foresight is what has led to the Luofu's survival and subsequent prosperity and fame. His wisdom and ability to recognize threats are best resolved by keeping them from happening in the first place earned him the attention of both Aeons, as worthy of being a member of the Genius Society and, later, worthy of leading one of the flagships of the Xianzhou.

With all these close ties to the gods themselves, it's no surprise that Jing Yuan is, in effect, a very divine character; this is something I've repeatedly made a point to emphasize out of character and also in character. I will state once again that Jing Yuan's divinity was imposed upon him, and this has led to Jing Yuan... often feeling like he does not belong to himself. He is not his own person. His eyes do not belong to him. His purpose and role in life does not belong to him. His mortality and existence do not belong to him. Jing Yuan is rather neutral about his opinions on the Aeons, speaking on them from a mostly objective standpoint and obviously from the side of Lan when talking about Yaoshi, but behind closed doors he may express some bitterness about them -- Lan included. He is wise enough to recognize that every single Aeon is a double edged sword, some with a far more wicked blade than others, and he has suffered at the hands of them multiple times, both from blessings and from curses. He's seen the destruction that is left in the wake of the Reignbow Arbiter's Lux Arrow, after all. There is no difference between salvation and destruction where Lan is concerned. And in the eyes of the Destruction, it does not matter why or how something is destroyed, only that it is. What does it matter if the Paths of the Hunt and the Destruction end up aligning if it's for the mutual goal of eliminating another? This is why Jingliu's speech at the end of the 1.3 story arc resonated with me so much, and why I do think that Jing Yuan will ultimately end up forming some sort of alliance with her and Luocha. To become the playthings of the gods, caught within their contests for power and dominance, is to be doomed to their whims, and he knows this. All one can do is try to stay ahead of the tide. Jing Yuan feels like there is little possibility to try to remove himself from this contest now without threatening the safety of the entire Luofu. He cannot break free anymore, and he hates it. His path was mapped out for him the moment he caught Nous' eye, likely before then, and he shares a similar mentality to Fu Xuan that fate... cannot be changed. At the very least, it takes someone truly, truly extraordinary to be able to do so.

He is not that person. He cannot be that person without putting everything he worked for at risk.

#//about; (DIVINE FORESIGHT) #((2.2k words.... holy shit i'm done)) #((i'm ngl i think my eyes glazed over multiple times writing this but PLEASE ENJOY IT TOOK SO FUCKING LONG)) #((i'm v proud of this asldkfjhalsfdkjh)) #Willow Rambles

[erikahenningsen]

you would find her in a polaroid picture (chapter five)

Fandom: Mean Girls

Pairing: Cady/Regina

Rating: Explicit

Words: 6,868

Summary: Cady Heron transfers to North Shore University in her junior year following a messy breakup and is looking for a fresh start. Regina George thought her year would be hard enough coming back from an injury—until she meets a redheaded girl she can't seem to stop thinking about. As if pulled by an invisible string, they fall into each other, no matter how much either tries to resist.

Read on AO3

A/N: Please note the rating change.

#cadina #mean girls #mean girls 2024 #mean girls the musical #mean girls broadway #regina george #cady heron #2.2k words of smut here.... yikes #fanfiction #college au

[ohm-myy-god]

Hello Edna and Harvey fans & all interested parties, here I present to you my made up fan-lore for Edna’s mom (and her dynamics with other characters and all that). Also featuring some supplemental artwork.

Warning in advance it’s very long, but it’s split into sections and has pictures so hopefully it’s bearable. Have fun…

Sketch page from May 2022

So this is my character for Edna’s mom, her name is Ana. 

My main idea for her was that, in contrast to Mattis’s sort of helpless attitude about parenting, she was the more assertive parent. Not necessarily mean or strict, but she had more self confidence and experience working with children, and overall gave the impression that she “knew what she was doing”, at least from her husband's perspective. 

This leads into her passing being not only a major blow for her family for obvious reasons, but also because Mattis wasn’t ready to be a single parent and never really adapted to the role. He was very stressed all the time and part of that came from feeling extremely inferior in his capabilities of being a father, with pressure from his neighbor/friend who seemed to have the most perfectly behaved kid(s) (ah yes the perfect family nothing to see here), and from his belief that his wife would’ve made a better single parent than him. That’s not necessarily the truth, as it would’ve been hard for anyone, but that was his perception of it. 

I’ll now go into outlining her individual personality and her relationship with her family:

Physical description:

Appearance Timeline:

(Note on her Birth Year: My whole e&h timeline is based around the assumption that Brich Aus takes place in 2008; so Edna was born in ~1990 and Mattis was born in ~1957, give or take a year. This also therefore means Mattis and anyone his age is a boomer (heartbreaking).) 

Name- Ana is a name I picked for no specific reason. I don’t know why I used that spelling instead of Anna but I did, and I’m used to it now, but if you prefer Anna it also works. 

I didn’t pick a maiden name yet, so for now she only exists as Ana Konrad. DOCTOR Konrad actually but we’ll get to that. 

Appearance- Ana looks very much like her daughter; they have the same eyes and complexion and hair (albeit different styles). I think the more “realistic” you try to make Edna and Harvey the more confusing it gets, so yeah their purple hair is genetic and natural and not specific to Edna (I mean it’s not like she could dye it in the hospital anyway). I just think of it as regular dark hair in their universe. 

Personality:

In terms of personality, Ana was very goal-oriented. She was calmer and more collected than Edna, but just as determined to do whatever she set her mind to. She liked reading and writing more than Edna, but much like Edna she was always rather lonely no matter how outgoing she was. Their circumstances were different, but both Edna and her mom were kind of socially outcast growing up.

I’ll go more into her time at school in a later section, but when going to Uni her choice was to study psychology, and eventually be a child psychiatrist. Which might seem random but LISTEN… I think the idea of her being a psychiatrist with a completely different mindset from Marcel’s is a fun one, and it sorta adds to the tragedy of “man, if only someone could’ve stopped this” when it comes to how Mattis bought into Marcel’s ideology. And it adds another layer as to why Mattis trusts in unstable hypothetical science so much more than himself or his own daughter. And overall, I think she is a “strong-headed professional” just by personality, and being a doctor makes her seem far more impressive or competent than Mattis (especially from his perspective). 

As a kid, Ana loved climbing trees. She and Mattis spent a lot of time there as kids. She also loved to sing and dance, things she probably did less and less as she got older. 

Being that they lived next to a church in a small town, it seems to be that the Konrads were at least a bit religious (and in the audio book they mention Edna threw a Bible in the basement fireplace). I haven’t really thought about how that might play into their lives, but I like the angle that Mattis became more religious / started going to church after his wife died. (Edna meanwhile is not religious—too many arbitrary rules for her.)

Relationship with neighbors:

Ana was definitely more suspicious of Marcel when they first moved next to him than her husband was. Not that she assumed he was evil or anything, but she was a bit worried about how he was parenting his kids. Ana found the kids’ behavior more concerning than “exemplary”. But she chalked it up to Marcel having a hard time adjusting after his wife left and didn’t really investigate; she wasn’t around for the whole “we should brainwash kids to make them behave better” era, that happened later. She probably just vaguely distrusted him. 

I like to imagine she hung out with Ruben if the neighbors came over too. Kind of like how Mattis would end up “babysitting” Edna and Alfred later on a lot, maybe she’d play cards with him or something and inadvertently create a more positive experience than anything Marcel ever did. Ruben needs someone in his life looking out for him…unfortunately this arrangement didn’t last long. 

Relationship with Edna’s dad:

Ana and Mattis were childhood sweethearts; I imagine they met in high school and started dating near the end of it, so maybe the final year before university. But they were friends before that too. 

Basically, their dynamic as kids was “trouble maker” and “kid who gets good grades but is also a trouble maker”. I like the idea that in contrast to his adult personality, Mattis was a lot more like Edna as a kid; he was still always a bit timid, but he had a rebellious phase where he wanted to stick it to the authorities and lash out more. At this point in his adolescence, he got into trouble a lot, and it wasn’t until Uni that he really changed himself around. (However, ironically, instead of being able to sympathize with his daughter when she started acting out later, he could only envision all the bad things that might happen to her as a consequence of her behavior and it made him all the more stressed to find a way to “fix” her.) 

Ana, however, wasn’t quite so rebellious and did well at school. She felt the same way on the inside, though, and the two found kinship in wanting to “run away from it all” and escape pressure from family/peers. They would hang out on tree branches and throw rocks at people they didn’t like, but Ana still avoided anything that might get her in serious trouble. 

But basically, dumb kids doing shenanigans. Ana didn’t think Mattis was particularly smart for vandalizing property and getting detention, but she also didn’t think less of him for it. Perhaps she had the “oh I can fix him” mindset, but mostly she was admiring his dedication. 

But when it was time to go to university they decided to break up, since they’d be moving apart. They were sad about it, but they both moved along and figured they’d never see eachother again.

…That was, until they met again sort of randomly as adults years later.

This was probably 4 or more years after they’d started Uni; Ana was still in school and was a bit too busy for a serious relationship but they stuck together anyway and ended up dating again. This ended up working out, and they eventually got married. (Apparently it isn’t that uncommon to marry even while pursuing a doctorate, but I haven’t picked what year they got married. Shrug)

(Note about psychiatric education lmao- from what I can tell, it takes at least 6 years of medical school and an additional 5 years of full-time employment to become board-certified psychiatrist. Assuming Ana started university when she was 18, she was at least 30 when she got her doctor's degree.) 

(Also, I can imagine being a woman pursuing a doctorate in the 80s wasn’t that common or easy, and I thought about her just being a psychologist instead since that takes half the amount of time. However have you considered the THEMATIC PARALLELS the IRONY of it all… Edna’s mom was a doctor and it’s funnier that way.) 

Mattis and his wife would definitely be at odds sometimes because of the difference in their personalities. I think the dynamic would provide interesting conflict & they’d work it out. 

Parenting:

So I suppose the big question is, how would Ana have affected Edna’s life had she lived longer?

I think the loss of her mother contributed heavily to Edna’s childhood rebelliousness. Not that she wouldn’t have had behavioral issues or struggled with making friends anyway, but I think she became so dependent on her own subconscious / on Harvey as a result of loneliness; evidence from the comic can back this up. In the comic, Edna is very withdrawn and more timid pre-Harvey, and Harvey’s eventual personality seems to be highly influenced by Freya - Edna’s close friend who coped with her own struggles by rebelling instead of following all the rules. Seeing as both girls also had a missing mother figure (again, WHO DOESN'T IN THIS SERIES), I don’t think it’s a stretch to imagine Edna started feeling alone in the world when her mother passed. 

But tangent aside, I don’t think Ana would’ve necessarily had an easier time with Edna than Mattis, but with the crucial difference that she wouldn't have been so easily influenced by others opinion on her parenting (eg Marcel). Anyone has insecurities, but listening to someone else basically say “your kid should get brainwashed” and thinking “mmmm maybe” is a very concerning state of mind. 

Ana would have been frustrated and would have got impatient. She would have wanted Edna to “act normal” but she might have been more adept at figuring out WHY she was acting out. But meanwhile, I also think that being a doctor, there would have been tension in the fact that Ana saw “patients” and her daughter as entirely separate; thinking, Edna couldn’t be as mentally ill as the people she worked with…there must be a different answer…

But as a little kid, Edna got along just fine with her mom. They played together and did puzzles and ran in the sprinklers and mud and everything like that. Maybe even played with stuffed animals pretending that they could talk. 

Rip 💀

So: death. For the record I think the trope of “main character’s mom died” isn’t very intriguing or creative (and I mean. Do you know any e&h characters with a mom? any of them? Exactly.) However, it isn’t even brought up by Edna in the game at all, and the “show not tell” aspect is a bit cool at least. (It isn’t even until the “yo mama” joke in the 2nd game that Edna is pointed out as an orphan. Her memory got washed and all so she didn’t even think of her mom when looking through her old house.) And if we were to ignore poki’s character profile website, yes, it’s also equally as plausible that Edna’s mom left rather than died. BUT personally I prefer this version because I already wrote this whole thing lol (and anyway, I think Marcel’s wife for sure left him, and we don’t want to get too repetitive). 

But how did she die??…I haven’t really picked an answer to that. 

If we’re looking for story parallels, medical malpractice or even being MURDERED might work, but I just don’t really know. Maybe it’s a let-down, but I’m indecisive, sorry  🤷 

Ana became sort of idolized in death by Mattis especially, since Edna couldn't properly remember her as time went on. 

Bit of a tangent, but I think a lot of self doubt and insecurity and general depression contributed to Mattis being lost about parenting—with the fact that Edna was intentionally acting out, fighting against something she saw as intrinsically opposed to her. In the 1st tempomorph Edna “sees” through Harvey that her dad is betraying her and eating ice cream with Alfred- this is her imagination, but it shows her perception of her father as a kid, that he wasn’t looking out for her. I think it’s clear Mattis cared about his daughter but he was just unable to rise above his own insecurities and be there for her. (I also think he went a teensy bit off-the-rails when the Murder happened and that’s partially why he pleaded guilty. Guy broke down). After all, his wife wouldn’t have ever let Edna act so uncontrollably if she were alive, would she?  

That’s it

Thanks for reading all that if you did!! Hope reading about shit I made up was entertaining. I might do this again with other characters for funsies at some point in the distant future, we’ll see. 

She isn’t even a character I spend too much time thinking about, so I figured this would be a good way to practice organizing my thoughts. And draw her some more since it’d been a while. It was fun.

Let me know your thoughts/impressions of her…

& goodbye 👋 

Bonus- sketches from May 2022

#edna and harvey #edna bricht aus #original art #long post #as in 2.2k words long

[flowercrowngods]

hello lovely 💜💜 for the wip thing, im excited for ALL of them but im gonna pick bardknight 💜💜💜

hello sweet darling 🌷🤍 your wish is my command, mwah! 🫶 this one is once more a direct follow-up to snippet no.3, 358 words of the 1277 i just wrote in response so your ask 😌 part one • preceding snippet no. 1 • preceding snippet no. 2 • preceding snippet no. 3

Fate does not possess the grace to let him die on the spot, however, the daggers in the bard’s eyes not sharp enough to end his life, but more than sufficient to snuff out any sense of bravery he could have possessed to approach Harrington anytime soon. Eddie finds himself almost grateful for the admittedly rather lame excuse that only comes to prove his cowardice, but he decides not to dwell on it for now.

Or he tries, as he downs the wine in one go and lets his eyes travel in search for familiar, friendly faces, and finding the Princess already approaching him with a smile so bright and warm it alleviates the anxiety thrumming through him.

“Eddie!” she says, smiling even wider when he remembers to bow before her — something they had to practice a lot when they were children and she would sneak away from her lessons and appearances to play with him instead. It feels like a lifetime ago; she is the prettiest person he knows — always has been, but she kept the spark of glee even as an adult. It makes him weak in the knees with happiness, having her friendship so deeply ingrained in his soul even after all this time.

Her eyes travel over his doublet made of silk so deeply red it appears black if the light plays a trick on your eyes. It is one of his finest possessions, and it takes everything within him not to preen in front of the princess.

“And to think of the way you scoffed so offhandedly when I told you years ago that silk would suit you. You have grown to be so very handsome, my dearest friend, I can hardly take my eyes off you lest I have to fear your untimely disappearance once more.”

Eddie smiles, feeling the heat rising in his cheeks, entirely aware that he had not yet enough wine to only blame it on that.

“I am here to stay for the time being, your highness, so fret not. If only to show Hawkins how right you were, my dear, because I do look fabulous in silk.”

🤍🌷 make me write (please) – you can't vote anymore but asks are still welcome as i make my way through them ever so slowly

#steddie fic #steddie #bard/knight #bard!eddie munson #knight!steve harrington #this was the last bardknight ask 🫶 but bc of this game i’ve written 2.2k words for part 2 already so thanks y’all for enabling me 🥰 #if you want more just say the word but also i might actually get this done by sunday or at least next week 👀 #make me write ask game #ask game answered

[lakesbian]

I honestly really didn't care for Alec for a while. Cause Taylor doesn't seem to really care about him so he gets shafted in the narration a bit. I think. But you're doing good work and I've really grown to appreciate him

putting this in my collection of times i've Won (successfully alec vasil lawyered and made someone like him more)

#ask #taylor not caring about him and him being shafted in the narrative just like in the 2.2k word alec essay i wrote

[tommarvoloriddlesdiary]

Something different.

Frustration bloomed in the back of Harry’s throat wide enough to choke, unfurling until his mouth felt full and dry—though that could’ve been the third glass of wine. He didn’t understand what ‘different’ was, what had changed. The answer seemed shrouded from his sight, scarcely out of reach.

Or, Harry pondered, slouched comfortably in an armchair, his eyes locked on Voldemort’s candlelit form. Maybe not very far at all. He had an inkling it was hiding just behind the monster sitting before him—the wolf in sheep’s skin.

Delicately drafting missive upon missive, Voldemort fell to silence some time ago. Their steady back and forth lulled and gave breath to the ever-diligent scrawling, barely clear enough to hear over the crack and sizzle of the fire.

If Harry hadn’t grown so accustomed to Voldemort’s sudden breakthroughs and thoughtful quietness, he wondered if he’d be more offended.

His mouth curled like hands strangling, ripping weeds from the root; Harry would be much more than offended if he were anything like he used to be around Voldemort. He doubted there’d have been anything left of this humble study, and they’d be anything but—

Harry sighed… And there it was again—that frustration prying at his lips.

But—what? What were they doing anyway? The words at the tip of his tongue didn’t seem right, but Hermione would tell him not to fight it, that his gut reaction wasn’t typically too far off.

So…companionable? Is that what they were?

Friends? Or, at the very least, friendly?

Harry tasted bitter pollen and fresh dirt on the flat of his tongue, but his lips tugged wider. He couldn’t stop himself because this all seemed so absurd. Completely laughable.

“Why are you grinning like a fool?”

Harry’s attention pulled back to Voldemort, though he could hardly say it ever left.

Voldemort’s form was relaxed, never slouched but comfortable. He sipped his wine, eyes sharp over the rim of his glass, keen on Harry.

“None of your business,” Harry replied. It wasn’t biting or challenging like he meant it to be (like it used to be), but that didn’t matter.

Voldemort took everything as a challenge.

So Harry watched as Voldemort set his glass down on the desk, narrowed his eyes, and considered his options.

Harry knew from experience that Voldemort liked to try casting an imperio on him every once in a while to see if he’d suddenly lost his ‘immunity’ (Ron’s words). Or liked talking circles around him until he unknowingly answered everything Voldemort was wondering and more.

It was rarer when Voldemort attempted to glimpse his thoughts, but Harry knew he enjoyed trying.

It’s uncomfortable and oppressive, Voldemort had once told him. Sounding disconcertingly impressed. I have not seen anything like it during my time.

And Harry had nodded, understanding. He was well aware of the unusualness of his mindscape.

Yet, Voldemort had continued, It is not unfamiliar.

It turned out Voldemort’s curiosity was always more harm than good. Harry went weeks managing raging headaches from his many tests. The goal was ultimately to reveal Harry’s breaking point or, at the very least, find some of his hidden memories and thoughts.

All those headaches were endured to no avail as Voldemort was, and continued to be, dissatisfied.

Voldemort stood abruptly, and Harry startled. “Come,” he said as he walked to the door. He paused and held it open; Harry took that to mean ‘no’ wasn’t an option.

Hoisting himself up and finding his balance when the blood rush became less too-quick-standing-up and more maybe-one-less-glass-next-time-Harry, he quickly made his way out of the study. He waited for Voldemort to shut and ward the door before taking off after him down the long, winding halls of Slytherin Manor.

Voldemort had really gone all out after the truce. When Harry was invited to the newly constructed and stately home, he wondered if all purebloods used the same magical architects. There was a grace and a flawless connection to every room, a theme or some sort of thoughtful pattern, that Harry didn’t quite achieve with Grimmauld Place. There was something to be said about professionals, and those at the top of their field no less. For Voldemort would never allow second best.

Mindful of these small details, it was hard not to compare everything to the Malfoys’ manor, which housed all their meetings during the first two years of the truce. But Harry could hardly be faulted when one took in the tall and expansive windows and the spacious drawing rooms and grand libraries (yes, more than one), so close yet so vastly different to the Malfoys.

Harry had remarked upon this several times, of course. Unfortunately, it took Voldemort using the wards to forcibly remove him for Harry to realise that his comments went very much unappreciated.

Admittedly, the colour scheme was way darker here, though that didn’t surprise Harry. With their pale hair, pale eyes, pale walls, and paler peacocks, Draco, Narcissa and Lucius would stick out like sore thumbs here. Just like Voldemort, with his dark hair, dark eyes, dark robes, and darker humour, had in their home.

Nonetheless, with all the apparent beauty of Slytherin Manor’s interior, Harry quickly realised that nothing in these walls pleased Voldemort more than the gardens around it. And naturally, that was where Voldemort led them.

The season’s chill bit at Harry’s skin, and he watched as Voldemort’s breath spiralled out in clouds of white. It was the only proof Harry could find of Voldemort being affected by the cold. Even with his new face (or old? Harry supposed the similarities between it and Tom Riddle’s were too close not to assume), there was still an apparent…otherworldliness to him.

His motions were too graceful. His gaze was too precise. His voice was too melodious, like charming sleigh bells or an arresting church organ depending on his moods. Harry caught himself enthralled and appalled by Voldemort in equal measure. That may be why it seemed so impossible to Harry that they had gotten close. Because he still couldn’t entirely remove the man from the monster. But Harry was starting to realise he might be okay with that. Accepting Voldemort for who he was: both.

“Is this better?” Voldemort startled Harry out of his intense focus.

He frowned, “Is what better?” What was Voldemort talking about? Had he missed something?

Voldemort led them deeper into the sprawling gardens. Fairies fluttered about the grounds shimmering and shining in their transparent multicolours. They twinkled over the no doubt carefully selected winter flora and fauna; heather and aconite clashed for attention amongst the evergreens and large shrubs with dainty bell-shaped yellow flowers that dripped down arching branches like bundles of grapes. Harry couldn’t name half the growth scattered about, probably not even with Neville’s help.

They stopped in a small clearing home to a single (surprisingly tasteful) fountain. “The fresh air,” Voldemort finally answered. He was so quiet that Harry almost missed it. “Is it helping ease your mind?”

“My mind didn’t need to be eased?” Harry aimed for a statement, but it came out like a question.

Voldemort looked at him like he’d said something particularly idiotic. “Yes, because you often look one minor thought away from breaking everything in a room.” His light, sarcastic tone, sickly sweet, had Harry crossing his arms.

“So that’s why you ran us out of the manor,” Harry scoffed.

“Lord Voldemort does not run, Harry.”

“Lord Voldemort apparently does if he thinks Harry Potter will blow up his pretty little house.”

They each held their ground, eyes locked. But the tittering of the fairies was an embarrassing wake-up call, so Harry broke first. His snort huffed out and clouded the air, surprising Voldemort and himself. He completely gave in to his laughter after that. The sight of Voldemort’s shock was too funny to keep bottled up.

Voldemort shook his head like a silent prayer and waited for Harry’s giggles to die down, “I thought you were…upset. I felt it through the Horcrux, that festering feeling of something unresolved and annoying. You seemed frustrated.”

Harry didn’t really know what to say. He was taken aback that Voldemort could even tell something was bothering him. Though he had been strangely intuitive recently, Harry noted. Especially since that day at Grimmauld Place.

And Granger mentioned you may be depressed.

Harry shook his head to rid himself of…whatever that was. Voldemort continued when he wasn’t paying attention, “-decide to spend your holiday with your friends. I found that odd, considering you are all very close. Trouble in paradise?”

“What,” Harry frowned. How was it that Voldemort never failed to make him feel wrong-footed? Why couldn’t Harry ever catch a break? “No, nothing’s wrong. And that’s a muggle thing, you know? Trouble in Paradise.”

“So you’re celebrating Yule at my manor because you want to?” The very idea seemed unfathomable to Voldemort, judging by his wrinkled brow and scrunched-up nose. Though maybe his face was because Harry mentioned muggles, and that was still a touchy subject.

“Well, yes? No- I’m,” Harry stuttered and looked away. It wasn’t that there was anything wrong with the Weasleys or Sirius and Remus. Everything really was fine. It’s just, well, Harry didn’t feel comfortable tagging along this year. He’d gone missing for most of it, isolating as he did, and people still looked at him with this weird mixture of concern and pity and treated him like a spun glass ornament.

Voldemort never did that.

“I mean- Wait, you invited me here!” Harry shouted to some hellebore, his exclamation entirely misdirected.

Voldemort had invited Harry here! That’s right! It was under the guise of ministry paperwork, some dumb bill that required Harry’s approval too, because even though Voldemort had clearly been on the straight and narrow for years, people were still under the impression one couldn’t teach an old dog new tricks. Or, in this case, one couldn’t teach a Dark Lord the advantages of political warfare over guerrilla warfare. Stupid.

Harry glanced over at Voldemort, who had conveniently turned his attention toward the night sky.

But hadn’t they finished it hours ago? The documents were read, discussed (debated), and adjusted. They were resubmitted with the help of Hedwig, who was miffed to have to rush a packet of paperwork back to the ministry on Christmas of all days. She’d been bribed with a rather spoiled selection of meats—Nagini was very jealous.

So. Why was Harry still here? Why did he stay when Voldemort had offered him wine and refill after refill? Why did he feel like leaving was the very last thing he wanted to do? Why was he worried, reluctant to floo home, and suspiciously confident that Voldemort hadn’t wanted to bear the holiday alone either?

Why did Harry think Voldemort would be terribly sad if he left?

Harry wanted to break their silence. He pushed aside the growing weight in his chest, taking a deep breath to shake the overwhelm pressing behind his eyelids. He opened his mouth to maybe thank Voldemort for his thoughtfulness (because that’s what it was—Voldemort was always somehow considerate of Harry and his feelings) but accidentally blurted out the one thing that had actually been weighing his mind, “Are we friends?”

Horror. It was all Harry could feel. Shocked dumb, he watched as Voldemort stilled for a moment. His eyes left the shining expanse of stars and found Harry’s. He raised a single brow, “Friends?”

Harry’s face felt hot, and he wasn’t sure he could blame the wine. “Yeah,” in for a penny. “Friends. Are we?” He wanted to smack himself for being so short, words too stilted. But this wasn’t very comfortable, and Voldemort’s evident amusement wasn’t helping.

And Harry wanted the answer. He wanted it so badly that it scared him.

“We are not.”

The words echoed too loud in the night, which was ridiculous because Harry had only just been straining to hear Voldemort better moments ago. He couldn’t breathe. His heart felt like it had caught aflame. Yet there was no comforting warmth from its inferno, only an all-consuming blaze that turned Harry’s heart into ash from its fire.

He wasn’t sure when he’d turned away from Voldemort again. The sight of frosted grass was surprising when Harry registered it, along with the feeling of Voldemort’s hand cupping his chin and pulling his attention back to those garnet eyes Harry knew he was growing too fond of, too fast. They were much darker beneath the moon and stars, gleaming like the dried-up dregs of wine Harry left behind in Voldemort’s study.

“I do not have friends, Harry,” Voldemort’s eyes combed over his face. A brisk wind scattered his heart in the breeze, Harry shivered. “And you are so much more.”

The feeling of Voldemort’s magic, a delicate touch down the length of Harry’s throat, wrapping around and sinking in, chased all the cold away. A warming charm. Harry blinked once, twice, eyes wide. He felt light-headed.

“Let’s return,” Voldemort said. His fingers didn’t quite remove themselves fast enough, hesitant, lingering. Like Harry, perhaps they too wanted to remain just a little longer.

As Voldemort finally pulled away, the tip of his thumb grazed the edge of Harry’s lower lip. Harry felt a righteous anger then, justifying the heat still creeping up his face—he’s teasing me.

But as they continued back inside, chatter somehow more intimate and strictly the same as always, Harry came to the conclusion that Voldemort probably wasn’t. This was just as new and scary for him as it was for Harry, and though they may not be friends (and Harry wasn’t really sure what more would be), Harry knew they were definitely something.

Something different.

#tomarry #harrymort #tomarrymort #pov: harry #my fic #2.2k words #am i a writer or am i just a renovation kink in a trench coat #maybe both #i hope you (yes you-the you reading this tag right now) enjoy this #it's a continuation technically of candle-lit garnet but they are somehow extraordinarily different #series: (the world) its quiet turning

[chickenparm]

last line tag

whoa, parm is finally writing something again? what on earth could it be?? it's some chilumi for a dear friend of mine who requested it and writer's block or not, by god i've been picking away at it one sentence at a time. but it's NSFW (the usual with me) so this is the last sentence that is somewhat appropriate enough to not have under a read-more. every sentence after this one is a minefield of peepees and hoo-hahs.

Transformed or not, Childe isn’t nearly so callous as to go faster than Lumine can handle.

thanks for tagging me @henbased and i'm gonna tag @sweatandwoe @a-gal-with-taste @ink-and-dagger @vasiktomis (i'm real excited for vas'...) @insult-2-injury @xanamnesis and whoever else would like to do this! just tag me in it so i can see your tasty crumb. don't be shy.

#tag game #wip #nsft #genshin impact #tartaglia #chilumi #it's 2.2k words and they just now got it in so yeah.... my usual #i have no clue when this is gonna be done #sorry #also i once again have not forgotten about all those requests in my inbox #i look at them every day in an attempt to get one done but mental health is a stinker #anyway i'm so close to getting it handled that i can taste it #the light at the end of the tunnel #like a pot roast that's been cooking and i can nearly pull it apart with a fork #just need to simmer a little longer

[reneevz]

WE GOT THEM

*dies*

#mailbox #mutuals #i finished aventurine and i am at 2.2k words for him #feeding you good homie

[fullscoreshenanigans]

Do you have an ao3 account?

I do! Same url as here.

The goal is to actually post something on it lol

I currently have three ideas that I feel are within the realm of my current writing capabilities for a one- or two-shot:

• Don and Gilda sharing a moment with each member of the full score trio pre-Cuvitidala timeskip. I'm still not a hundred percent sure what their moment with Norman would be, but for Emma it would be going over Norman's letter and finalizing their escape plan (with them asking is it really okay to leave Ray on his own until January), and for Ray it would be him approaching them after he returns from Goldy Pond but before Emma wakes up from her coma to apologize for not being all there after Norman was shipped out and to thank them for being there for their family when he couldn't be. • Memory Keeper Ray AU set during the search for the Seven Walls. • Mostly canon-compliant, Cuvitidala-era one/two-shot where Ray pushes Emma out of the way of a demon ambush (which may or may not have been necessary) during one of the times where they’re on the way back to the bunker that winds up with him getting sick. While not a repeat of "The Day Emma Cried" story from the first light novel since Ray isn't fatally ill like they believed Norman was that summer, she can't help but notice the similarities in the situation as she goes off to find a solution to help speed up his recovery. Meanwhile, Ray's fevered dreams drift to his mother and eventually the missing member of their trio. This story was born from the desire of wanting RE to discuss Emma's dream from chapter 93 and as part of a set-up for endgame REN that leaves them off at a reasonable place for where I see them on that front: Emma always unconsciously gravitating and finding solace with the boys but not understanding the totality of those feelings (because Emma loves all of her family dearly; it's an immutable truth of the universe. So what makes them different) so there's some secrets unwittingly being kept on her side of things. Ray, in contrast, accepted that he loved Emma and Norman long ago, back when he first locked up his heart in order to maintain the mental fortitude needed to carry out his escape plan. While he also doesn't comprehend the full magnitude of those feelings (though this is a very poignant declaration),

he can consciously put a name to them, but he's intentionally holding back for a variety of reasons on this front (not wanting it to seem like there's an expectation of reciprocity, still dealing with the grief of Norman's apparent death, but the big one being they're still trying to find a way out of the demon world) and wrestling with the idea of revealing his connection to Isabella, what that connection says about him given the choices he's made, and potentially hearing someone else say things he's been telling himself for years.

#sorry for the tangent anon when your question was answered within the first six words kdjfs #have such a backlog of fics i need to properly comment on too gah </3 #FSS Chatter #FSS Asks #TPN Fanfic #Long Post #i do have a 2.2k outline for the last one but that doesn't really translate to a resonant read #with how i'm stuck in a script mindset for the dream sequences instead of in a fic one </3 #need to just power through thinking the execution is uninspired so that there's at least something uninspired to improve upon lol #Norrayemma #Noremray #yeah i'll throw that in the ship tags why not #by default i operate with a REN and Gildayshe endgame mindset unless otherwise stated #TPN S1 #Escape Arc #TPN 034 #TPN S1e11 #Goldy Pond Battle Arc #TPN 093 #Cuvitidala Arc #TPN 096 #me with my speedrun cheat of having Ray injured or sick to facilitate my indulgences of him opening up #just because with everything else going on I have a hard time seeing him do that regarding multiple topics unless prompted by this #or an outside antagonistic force lol

[starryc]

hi everybody, i've made a neocities site but more importantly i've made a hifugen shrine --

#hifugen #genhifu #yea let's put this in the main tag why not #hypnosis mic #hypmic #there's still some stuff i need to work on but feel free to check it out! #the hfgn manifesto is currently at 2.2k+ words [thumbs up emoji]