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#fourth wall will be utterly destroyed
katakaluptastrophy · 1 month
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Imagine being the Cohort soldiers from the Erebos who were sent respond to Judith's distress call.
They land to find a dead Lyctor, run through with a Cohort infantry sword, and two new Lyctors, one freshly missing an arm. I doubt either of them were particularly coherent by that stage.
And then they go to clear the inside of the building. In the room the transmission came from, there's a dead priest and an enormous pool of blood, but no sign of captain Deuteros. Her cavalier is missing an eye and seems to have been blown open from the inside.
A room down the hall is singed and splattered with blood and chunks of human flesh. Perhaps there are fragments of grey robes, or perhaps some poor psychometrist works out that they're looking at what's left of the Master Warden of his House.
Further into the building they enter a study with the words "YOU LIED TO US" daubed across an ancient and beautiful mural. The Third House cavalier lies dead on the floor, stabbed from behind. The Master Templar of the Eighth is lying dead, his throat slit, apparently by his own cavalier's sword. And his cavalier... His eyes are gone, there is something wrong with his mouth. His wrist and neck are broken. The whole room is dripping and sticky with blood and human fat.
Searching past the kitchen, they find the morgue. There's a bowl of ashes (two people's, dead before the pilgrimage even began, confirms the by now very shaken psychometrist). One of drawers lies open and the sheet has been roughly pulled off the body inside: the utterly shattered body of the Fifth House necromancer is lying there, her blouse rolled up to her ribs, a fist sized hole in her abdomen.
Neatly lying under sheets in the other drawers there are more bodies, and the preserved severed head of the Seventh House cavalier. There is no sign of his body. The Fourth House cavalier has been impaled through the chest, shoulders and legs, precisely, like an insect for display. Her necromancer...it might be easier to list the places where he hasn't been impaled. The Fifth House cavalier is just as destroyed as his necromancer: limbs broken, body horribly mangled.
Later, they find the bloodsoaked bed with "sweet dreams" daubed on the wall in blood. If they get as far as the facility, they discover the outlines of two horribly broken bodies surrounded by necromantic diagrams drawn on the floor in pen. One unremarkable room is splattered in blood and singed with spirit fire.
The building is full of collapsed skeleton constructs, seemingly mid task, as if all struck down simultaneously, and as they explore they find more dead priests. They find no sign of the Sixth or Ninth cavaliers, or the Crown Princess of the Third, or of Captain Deuteros. And from what they've already seen, this can't feel encouraging.
It's clear that this building has witnessed necromantic horrors beyond their comprehension. What were the scions of the Houses doing, or what was being done to them? What could possibly cause what they have seen?
And I can't imagine that after seeing the truth of what happened at Canaan House, that John would have taken the risk of those soldiers revealing what they had seen. After all, he's a very careful guy.
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ellen-m-ichiban81 · 1 year
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This is actually a smut fic I wrote about someone else, so names have been changed, but I thought it fitted for Joseph too.
The first time is rushed and frantic; nearly six months of attraction and unresolved sexual tension means you don't even make it to the bed, Joseph fucking you on the hotel room floor, thrusting into you with a desperation that left you certain you would have carpet burns on your back in the morning. Not that you care. You've waited too damn long for this to care about anything. You climax together, your cries mingling as sure as your essences.
The second time is an act of exploration, Joseph seemingly determined to find every single one of your nerve endings and make them sing for him, hands and mouth and tongue sliding over every crevice and curve; he enters you slowly, almost lazily, expression a mix of triumph and affection, as he moves over you, hips rotating in slow circles as he hits that sweet spot every time, making you crazy, making you his. You peak first this time, a million tiny lights exploding behind your eyes as Joseph shouts your name and shudders through his own release.
The third time, he has you straddle him, and as you buck above him, you can look down at his face, twisted into a look of such unbridled need that it gives you chills. His teeth are bared, eyes screwed shut as his hips rise to meet you, dark curls falling over his beautiful face as he moans pleading words. You've never felt so powerful, knowing you're in the process of making him come apart with your own controlled movements, and then he is coming, body bucking erratically as he sobs helplessly. Seeing him like this triggers your own peak, and you collapse onto him as it tears through you.
The fourth time, you find yourself pinned between Joseph's body and the wall, one leg braced on his hip, the other draped over his shoulder as he pounds relentlessly into you. It's rough, demanding, and his surprising flexibility means he is twisting his body into near impossible positions as well as your own. He's grunting filth in your ear, tells you that you belong to him, nobody else. You don't need him to tell you that-you've never felt so possessed by any man, and so utterly destroyed. Your climax takes you by surprise this time, and you cry out your shock as it pulses throughout your being; you feel Joseph slump against you as he groans, filling you.
The fifth time, you're kneeling at the edge of the bed, head dipped low, as he takes you from behind, slamming into you with all the ferocity of an animal, rougher than before. One hand cups your breast while the other is between your legs, toying with your clit. You're both drenched in sweat and each other's fluids by now, bodies sliding against each other. Your head is spinning, your body completely oversensitized by Joseph's seemingly endless possession. His stamina is overwhelming; he is overwhelming.
At this point, Joseph is no longer coherent; the only sounds he can make are moans and growls. He finally yells triumphantly, body shaking uncontrollably as he comes yet again. You call out that you love him right before another orgasm takes you.
Afterwards, Joseph cradles you against his chest, chuckling softly, as if you've just shared a joke, and not the most mind-blowing sex you've ever had.
'That was...bloody good.' He murmured. 'Yeah?'
Yes. Good Lord, yes.
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derseprinceoftbd · 9 months
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An explainer for Homestuck, typed up on a Google doc for Reddit, and now transplanted onto Tumblr, with the hope of crossposting it onto Reddit. Most explainers I've seen utterly fail to get the tone of the series across, thus not answering the main question I see: "what is Homestuck *and why is it like this*". Why does it evoke the reactions it does? Why are so many things considered a reference? Who is Vriska? (I can't actually explain that one in under 3000 words, it turns out.) But, here's a briefer briefer (heh) on the subject of "What the actual fuck is Homestuck":
#Homestuck, A History;
Andrew Hussie, a person (now going by any pronouns) then known for various obscure things around the net, made an interactive reader-driven comic-type-thing called Jailbreak where he would draw panels demonstrating the events of the story as dictated by other posters in the thread, putting his favoured suggestions in the narration and responding in kind. The happenings and variables were influenced by his own strange brand of humor and set of fascinations, such as rap, the Starsky and Hutch movie and the cast thereof, horses, clowns, and H!rry P!tter as a cultural presence. He would eventually compile this, along with the unfinished followup, Bard Quest, on its own website.
The third installment of the so-called MS Paint Adventures, Problem Sleuth, was a massive step up in production value, featuring impressive art and output speed as well as evolutions such as some pages being flashing gifs. This sort of thing was considered to be one of the best demonstrations of the potential of the internet. It ran for 1674 pages over the course of about a year.
Homestuck was the followup to that, running 8123 pages from April 13th 2009-2016 with numerous hiatuses in the latter half of that time. It featured such advancements as colored panels as default, videos with sound, small WASD-controlled computer games on various pages, and most importantly, actual conversations between characters, allowing them to become three-dimensional and truly sympathetic. (Hussie, it would soon be revealed, was heavily skilled at writing compelling and unique character voices and dialogue writing in general.)
Homestuck was definitely the most complex MPSA, with a grand overarching plot being integrated into the results of the actions of the readers. The plot revolved around an in-universe game called SBURB with the power to influence reality, sort of a Jumanji with time-travel mechanics that would soon be revealed to be the centerpiece of reality itself, a program that destroys the home planets of its players to motivate them to enter the world of the game and fulfill an unknown grand purpose, complete with millions of fully sentient NPCs. 
Homestuck has been described as "a story that's also a puzzle", and this lens has gained authorial approval. This is the sort of story where the Author appears as a character to explain things to the audience, another character ends up changing the color of the site to his own scheme and narrating in his own voice, and the Author bursts through a literal fourth wall into the world of the story, hunts him down, and beats him with a broom. This is the sort of story where one specific person has killed another three times across multiple iterations of both themselves and the universe, and three of the killee are alive at the end, despite all of them being versions that were killed by the killer, who himself has one alive at the end, and both of those people have four-letter names, the first two letters of which are the same.
Eventually the suggestions from readers became so numerous and difficult that the suggestion boxes were closed near the end of the first year, but their influence carried on; one easy example is a character only seen from the top half initially being theorized on the official forums as using a wheelchair, a fact which would not only become Canon, but highly relevant.
The early MSPAs curated an audience through programming humor and 80s-90s film references as filtered through the styles of Terry Pratchett, Mark Twain, and the Something Awful forums, but the audience for Homestuck, due to the nature of the characters, was markedly different, especially after the Trolls showed up.
You've probably seen them.
The Trolls, initially presented as some extremely odd and bothersome fellows on the internet, were soon shown to be a race of grey-skinned, orange-horned aliens that had undergone a SBURB Session that they claimed had been influenced by the lead human characters. Trolls possessed multicolored blood in both organized castes and clear deviations, psychic abilities, unique typing styles, insectoid traits as opposed to hominid, near-universal bisexuality with the sole known exception being Sapphic, and a complex romantic system with its own symbols, comically vague-yet-comprehensive reproductive system, and of course, relationship dynamics.
I cannot express how perfect the Trolls were in terms of catching on. Tumblr loved these fuckers and it's not at all hard to see why.
It's also worth noting that this wasn't the only market-perfect part of Homestuck; Classpecting, the equivalent of Hogwarts Houses, featured a 144/168/288/336/384(depending on who you ask and what they count, I've always thought 192)-strong grid system of human personality traits that not only seemed eerily accurate as a personality mapper, but corresponded to what elemental powers one received in the game of SBURB.
So... yeah. Homestuck was an incredibly complex and engaging work in both plot and presentation, driven by a single incredibly talented and flawed creative voice above all, and which was perfectly made to attract a massive, unabashedly bizarre/proudly cringe, and notably largely queer fanbase across a younger internet. The style of presentation, art, and character writing was instantly recognizable and relatively easy to imitate, leading to fanfiction and even fanmade adventures galore, most of the latter hosted on MSPFA.com.
The main site for Homestuck is broken now-it's recommended that new readers download the [Unofficial Homestuck Collection](https://bambosh.dev/unofficial-homestuck-collection/), and starting with Problem Sleuth to ease into the format and writing is a pretty popular choice. The ending is also considered generally quite poor in a number of ways, particularly regarding unfollowed forshadowing and blatant abandonment of character arcs, with some fans even [making](https://friendlybatteringram.tumblr.com/tagged/altstuck) their own [works](https://mspfa.com/?s=44153&p=1) as [substitutions](http://mspfa.com/?s=12003&p=1). Few speak of the epilogues. Fewer still speak of the sequel.
Content warnings for Homestuck include: blood, clowns, dicks-out furry art in the background of like ten pages, brief black-and-white nudity, swearing, the R-slur, a joke about an acronym organically forming the F-slur, child abuse, discussed child abuse and homophobia, mocking of the disabled (as an unsympathetic action), cartoonish levels of sexism (as an unsympathetic action), mocking of otherkin, minor characters being racial stereotypes of Black (Meenah) and Japanese (Damara) people, minor characters being stereotypes of disabled people (Meulin and Mituna), a controversial and prominent depiction of blindness, underage alcoholism, written depections of noncon (as an unsympathetic action), jokes about pedophilia, and child grooming (textually 100% non-sexual, but sexually-coded). 
Also: when I said the Trolls type weird, I wasn't kidding. Every character gets at least one color for their speech text, plus a pattern for how they type, generally worse for the Trolls, ranging from "no caps" to "British" to "drunk" to "ebonics" to "aLtErNaTiNg" to WH4T3V3R TH3 FUCK K1ND OF L33TSP34K BS T3R3Z1 1S DO1NG. So that's worth a warning.
And that's as abridged as you can get when summing up Homestuck.
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sir-yeehaw-paws · 1 year
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TOP 20 KOJIMA MOMENTS
In No Particular Order, Our Favourite Moments from the Metal Gear Mastermind
-PlayU: The UK’s Only Playstation Magazine, Excerpt from an Interview with Hideo Kojima, 2013
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(Full Transcript Under Cut)
1. Psycho Mantis: From reading your memory card to telling you what games you like by requiring the controller be plugged into port 2 to beat him, Mantis played with game conventions in a way unseen at that point.
2. Snake Never Gives Up: Crawling through radiation filled corridors to save the world as Snake slowly dies while his friends are shown struggling in battle is one of the most powerful and emotional moments of MGS2.
3. Raiden Gets Pissed On: Get through an entire part of MGS2 without getting seen and Raiden comes across a soldier on a roof, taking a leak. Stand in said trajectory, call people on your codec, and enjoy the laughs.
4. The Boss: The Boss is one of the most intriguing, and tragic characters ever created by Kojima, and the final battle against her at the end of MGS3 is still by far one of our favourite gaming moments.
5. Kojima in Peace Walker: Recruiting our pal Hideo in Peace Walker is a lovely little bit of video game fourth wall-destroying fun. Big Boss exclaiming, “Mr. Kojima!” makes it perfect.
6. The End: Another phenomenal boss fight, which can take hours or even days, Big Boss and the 100-year-old sniper face off in a battle of wits, disguises and patience, riddled with tension. Utterly unique and properly brilliant.
7. Enter Gray Fox: Coming across a darkened corridor full of blood and body parts is one of the most memorable moments of Metal Gear Solid 1, and the boss fight that follows is tense and thrilling.
8. Rex vs Ray: The trip back to Shadow Moses is surely the most fan-service filled part of MGS4, and is topped with Snake, piloting Metal Gear Rex, fighting Ocelot in Metal Gear Ray. Bizarrely sublime.
9. “Back of the CD Case”: If you’ve played Metal Gear Solid 1, you know this one. Meryl’s codec frequency, never told to you in-game, is actually on the back of the game box the whole time. Frustrating, but wonderful trickery.
10. Young Ocelot/Time Paradox: Young Ocelot’s appearance in MGS3 is hilarious and interesting, explaining how he came to be known as Revolver. But don’t kill him, unless you want to cause a TIME PARADOX.
11. The Battle of Aumaan Crevice: Zone of the Enders 2 improves upon the first game by making everything bigger and louder. Hundreds of mechs on either side clash in a scene like something out of Dynasty Warriors. Glorious.
12. That Bloody Ladder: If you’ve played MGS3, you know what we mean. “What a thrill...with darkness and sorrow throughout the night..” It’s a big ladder, alright? A ruddy big ladder. The biggest ladder there is.
13. Johnny Sasakai (Apart from MGS4): The uncredited hero of the MGS saga, Johnny has bit-parts in 1 and 2 (he’s the guy who gets knocked out by Meryl), before becoming an awful story-killer in 4, getting the girl after shitting in a barrel.
14. Snake vs. Liquid: “I’m you..I’m your shadow..” An awesome fist-fight between two shirtless dudes who happen to be clones, on top of a destroyed mech surrounded by flames? Epic stuff. Fox? Die.
15. Throwing a Metal Gear Ray: Kojima was hesitant to put this in Metal Gear Rising, but we are glad he did. What better way to cap off a fight against a huge robot than heaving it over your shoulder and slamming it face-first into the dirt?
16. Raiden vs. Vamp: Raiden is a lame little crybaby in Metal Gear Solid 2, but redeems himself in a big way in his next appearance . His stand out moment is his epic battle against Vamp.
17. The Sorrow: Another wonderful “boss fight” from Metal Gear Solid 3, a game rammed absolutely full of them. Facing the souls of the people you’ve killed is a genuinely harrowing experience.
18. MGS4 Car Chase: There have been a few fair car chases throughout Metal Gear history, but the one throughout narrow European streets in MGS4 as you race to save Big Boss’s remains stands out.
19. Snake vs. Ocelot: “You and I..have a score to settle.” An awesome fist-fight between two dudes on top of a destroyed boat-mech thingy in the middle of a massive war? Epic stuff. Fox? Die.
20: The Tanker: The opening tanker section of MGS2 is one of the best levels ever featured in the series, with some great set pieces and a ton of stuff to do. Shame about the rest of the game eh?
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xxx-calibur · 8 months
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*gives Salter a futa potion and a glowing hammer* Hey Saber Alter, drink this, break the fourth wall and fuck the mun. I'll give you as much food as you want after. Deal?
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"I don't need the potion. You forget your king is a dragon. But I'll do it. For the food."
___________________
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"Oh hey Salter, best girl, love of my life after ushiwakamaru whatcha doing whipping out that dick-"
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"Oh!"
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"I'm in danger!"
Karp was then utterly destroyed by the King of Tyrants fat dragon schlong, prompting his neighbors to make multiple complaints about his loud whorish screams.
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puppetmaster55 · 1 year
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thinking about that one post about how the economy of Westeros doesn’t make sense considering the world itself and like. that’s the whole point of the fourth and fifth books, and the undercurrent of the first three books. the crown is bankrupt, the rich gold miner Lannisters are also bankrupt but faking it hard, with the whole of Westeros existing deep, deep in debt to foreign banks.
the war in the first three books absolutely wrecks the economy of the seven kingdoms and screws the whole continent for surviving the winter. all the fields were burned in the South in the war, and nobody is pulling in crops, creating internal refugees all seeking food and safety in the major cities.
the North had their primary families killed off in the Red Wedding, and are embroiled in the infighting as they quietly kill off the enemies and have all but closed their own borders in each city, letting nobody else in. a whole army is in the North and they are entirely unprepared for snow and blizzards and are about two days away from cannibalism out of desperation for food.
the Wall? Jon Snow was killed because the Night’s Watch barely had food enough for their few members and he was letting in all the Wildlings to give them a chance at survival (he was also willing to give them all farmland to at least attempt to grow crops to share and survive off of, but that all led to a Julius Caeser style betrayal and death).
the coastal areas are fucked as well because all the boats are either destroyed, coopted for piracy, or all-together just plain not bringing in seafood for the inland people to have.
basically, Westeros is utterly fucked that it’s a lot less about winning against the night king so much as managing to simply survive (or escape Westeros entirely). the economy of Westeros? it was long-crumbling when the series began, and only been demolished further by that big war.
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dtothe4th · 1 year
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book 6
futuresbug led the somber group towards the center of town, and the party didn't speak much. the girl on futuresbug’s back was still unconscious but her breathing had steadied. the smell of burning shell and flesh hung heavy in the air as the houses were increasingly wrecked as they moved towards the center. a couple of times they spotted soldiersbugs, softbug and carapacian alike, but with one look at crochetsbug they continued onto wherever they were going. they stopped in an old tavern, a structure that was surprisingly not on fire but still very much destroyed. three of the four walls had caved in completely, with only the fourth and a chunk of the roof remaining. they were able to tell it was a tavern from the shreds of a banner that littered the inside. that, and it was a place hammersbug had frequented often. they caught their breath and shared conversation save for him: he was still utterly torn up by what he had seen the guardsbugs do to that carapacian bug. seersbug stuck some of the banner shreds together forming a more complete rectangle of fabric that crochetsbug then affixed to the top of her hook. the green and yellow diamond pattern of the tavern was shared by every tavern in the kingdom, old and new, softbug or carapacian bug. futuresbug kept watch outside for any stray fighting as they rested the night in the shelter; they were too wound up to sleep. late in the night they felt someone stirring behind them only to look back and see it was seersbug, offering to take their place. they weren't able to sleep much anyway. futuresbug took their offer, even if only to lay in the dirt for a couple of hours. in the early parts of the day seersbug watched as the silhouette of a bug threw something: they were a large bug, most likely carapacian, and had something around their waist hanging to their side. the object they through was long and cylindrical, most likely some sort of improvised bomb. it didn't seem to be aimed at anyone in particular though: seersbug heard no shouts of pain or fear. in fact it was eerily quiet, save for the shattering of whatever the bug had thrown. suddenly the silhouette began to grow larger and larger until seersbug realized that the bug was standing atop the flaming roof directly across from them. the bug was shrouded in flames but didn't seem to care in the slightest. they could tell the bug had their eyes trained right on them, and quickly turned around to wake the rest of the party only to feel a painful pinprick in their back. before they could scream they were falling to the ground face first, and vaguely felt their body being dragged away as they lost consciousness.
when they awoke they could only assume they were underground, due to the relatively clean air and actual structure that was surrounding them. a lone window lay above their head, much too far up to reach, but through it they could see the sky. they were bound to a chair in this room, and as their eyes adjusted they realized they were in a jail cell of sorts, with a set of wooden bars directly in front of them. through the bars they could make out the same bug they saw on the roof throwing that object. with a clearer look at them seersbug saw that the bug wore a pair of goggles over their eyes, lenses made of thick green glass held together by scavenged rubber and plastic, around their shoulder and hanging by their waist was a bag, as they saw through the flames, and in this bag were a set of the same long cylinders from before. the oddest part of all was they they were dressed in a scorched white outfit from neck to toe, including a pair of charred gloves. quite frankly, seersbug was scared shitless. they were never the fighting type, definitely the scholarly type, and this weirdo bug was most certainly a fighting type. additionally, considering the fact that this bug was a carapacian bug and seersbug was a softbug, it didn't bode well. before seersbug could ask where they were the bug in the suit said they knew who seersbug was. one of history’s second trio, the sturdier of the ancient philosophersbug’s teachings. they needed to know absolutely everything seersbug knew about this philosophersbug, where he came from, when he died, what was written in his scrolls. the papers seersbug took back from the eastern tower had of course burned up during the course of the war, and thus that information had been gone forever. but that wasn't entirely true, since seersbug remembered it all, right? seersbug quickly stammered out that they could tell them anything they wanted as long as they were untied and let go, honest. the suited bug narrowed their eyes and explained that they had been burned after trusting bugs too many times, and that seersbug was staying tied up until they croaked. okay okay, seersbug relented, and agreed to tell the bug what they knew. they explained the existence of ancient bugs unlike any bug see in the kingdom of bugs, before or after the rule of the king. they explained the tree of yggdrasil, how it had choked out the underground ancient bug civilization, how 9 bugs managed to escape destruction and that apparently had still survived to this day. philiosophersbug was one of those bugs, and wrote about the stars and charted their movements. he compared them to electricity, a property that these ancient bugs could harness through their metalwork.
the suited bug listened intently, seeming to genuinely take in what seersbug was saying. they seemed quite level headed, despite the whole kidnapping thing. seersbug said that they could show them the futuresbug, an ancient bug that had been traveling with the trio. the suited bug seemed to be satisfied for now, they nodded their head, and unlocked the door, stepping forward into the light so seersbug could get a better look at them. as they untied seersbug they introduced themselves: she was deliverysbug, and she apologized for having to do this. she explained that an odd bug had been the one to instigate the war, despite what the army leaders of the softbugs and carapacian bugs might say. this bug looked nothing like the bugs that lived in the kingdom, and seersbug explained that they already knew: newsbug had explained everything about the beginning of the war. upon hearing the word newsbug, deliverysbug’s face lit up. oh my god i’m so thankful they're still alive, her shoulders slumped forward, resting in a more comfortable position than before. seersbug was about to ask where inventorsbug was when she cut them off, leading them by the hand out of the jail cell. she put a finger to her mouth to signal seersbug to be quiet and lay low as the two quickly dashed to the ruins of a nearby building. they could hear the shouting of a carapacian bug who was getting closer by the second, they thought they saw some movement over here and went to go check it out. seersbug looked over to see deliverysbug totally losing it, face going red straining to not hyperventilate. seersbug put their hand on hers, and told her that they knew what to do. seersbug quickly and quietly led them up the crumbling stairs of the building to jump onto what remained of the roof of the house directly next door, gracefully landing without a sound. they continued this for a while until they were out of earshot of the bug, and deliverysbug wrapped seersbug in a big hug. oh my god that was amazing she said, it almost reminded them of her… she got real quiet for a second and looked down, mumbling partner to herself. another thing to add to the list of things seersbug wasn't good at was comforting others, and they felt awkward as fuck. they again put their hand on deliverysbug and said it was okay, but she didn't look up. she wasn't crying either though, just reveling in a moment with herself. before long, she shook herself off and stood up, jumping off of the roof piece to the dirt below.
seersbug followed her down and asked if she wanted to talk about it but she shut them down, instead saying she was going to lead them back to where their bug friends were. speaking of their bug friends, when they woke up without seersbug they all outright panicked. futuresbug cursed themselves for being weak and allowing seersbug to take their place. hammersbug wondered if they had been captured and killed by the carapacians. maybe the enemies assumed seersbug was about to pounce on the sleeping bugs inside to eat them and harvest their shells, so they took them out. hammersbug wondered this and more aloud before crochetsbug shut them up, and futuresbug too. this wasn't anyone’s fault and they weren't dead. crochetsbug had handpicked seersbug for her team, she knew they were resourceful and cunning and agile. they could assess a situation and get out of it, easy. the party was to stay put until seersbug returned. in the meantime, crochetsbug and futuresbug were to go out together and scavenge for food and save any bugs they could. hammersbug was to stay here with the still unconscious girl. hours passed where hammersbug was alone with his thoughts, drawing shapes in the dirt, characters who had their own stories and lives that weren't so bleak and miserable. he sharpened his chef’s tools, and occasionally let his mind drift to what he would do to those guardsbugs who killed that carapacian bug, but knew that wouldn't be a heroic thing to do. he didn't let these intrusive thoughts control him but he didn't repress them either; they were part of who he was. and what he wasn't, was a revenge seeking murderer. eventually crochetsbug and futuresbug returned with a bundle of fungi and grasses, and hammersbug prepared a pot to make a big stew for everyone. it was past midday by now, and even crochetsbug was starting to get a little worried that seersbug wasn't coming back. they tried not to show it but futuresbug and hammersbug could pick up on it subtly. they ate quietly, with hammersbug feeding some to the girl. they kept the fire going with a portion of stew left for seersbug as another hour passed, mostly spent listening to the crackling of fire all around them. finally, in the distance, futuresbug spotted the familiar outline of seersbug, only they were accompanied by a larger carapacian bug walking side by side. the carapacian bug pointed towards futuresbug, and seersbug looked up at them and seemed to say something. they went back inside the temporary shelter and told hammersbug and crochetsbug who both had a great sigh of relief. this bug traveling with seersbug seemed to be a friend too, which was fantastic. as they arrived, crochetsbug and hammersbug ran to seersbug and wrapped them in a big hug, expressing their joy that they were back safe and sound.after their reunion, deliverysbug introduced herself and explained the circumstances of seersbug’s disappearance. they couldn't be too safe with everything happening, and the party welcomed her in to rest for a while. around the stew pot, futuresbug elaborated on the truncated version of the story seersbug gave her, and explained that the story newsbug gave them ended at the softbugs’ side of things; they had never heard what happened to the carapacian cabinet. deliverysbug explained that her and inventorsbug had been told immediately prior to this that doctorsbug and newsbug were up to something shady. washeranddryersbug had an odd expression as they told them this, but they didn't really have a reason to distrust them in any way, considering they were crochetsbug’s protege. they decided they were going to confront the softbugs, which is where newsbug’s story picked up from.
after the separation, newsbug’s assumption that they had run to what now is the CBC was correct. there inventorsbug and deliverysbug became very prominent members of the party, leading incursions into softbug territory and setting fire to buildings using inventorsbug’s creations. they had truly believed washeranddryersbug’s words that the softbugs had caused this all, they too were just cogs in this machine. on one day inventorsbug and deliverysbug had been leading a group towards the center of the kingdom, where the garden was. they had long since pushed the odd bug they saw out of their mind, as well as the overgrowth of neoyggdrasil. as they approached the center they saw a wall of wood and leaves growing up, with an entrance not carved out but seemingly purposefully grown around by the tree. they cautiously walked forward with inventorsbug at the front. they wore their goggles and fireproof suit, wielding a homemade crossbow. the tree had grown impossibly tall, which was unknown until now due to a thick fog that seemed to cover it at all times. the bugs looked up and couldn't even see the canopy above, only a trunk that stretched on forever. one of them walked up to the tree in awe, placing a hand on the trunk, but this was evidently a huge mistake, in a second the bug had seemingly fallen into the tree, sucked into it and turned into a faint yellow glow. this glow shot upwards as it faded out from their sight, just like inventorsbug and deliverysbug had seen on the day all hell broke loose. they cautiously stepped back now, scared of the tree’s power. however, within a minute the bug seemed to morph back out of the tree in the same spot it was sucked up at, as if the action had literally been rewound. he turned around, patted himself up and down and shouted with joy! he began laughing, which quickly turned from whimsical joy to a much deeper, darker laugh as the bug’s face morphed and cracked, their body becoming covered in a thick layer of bark before breaking out of it in a new body. this bug had dark, round eyes that looked lifeless, and as they stuck their hand out to the side, a root of the tree dug up from the ground and presented him an axe, the same axe used by washeranddryersbug in an attempt to cut down neoyggdrasil. this bug began stiffly walking towards the group, its joints cracking and snapping with every movement. its skin looked unnatural and dull, and their expression lay unmoving as they approached.
inventorsbug held their ground, telling them to back off or else they would have to retaliate, but the bug just kept on moving. inventorsbug took out a firebomb and held it out, ready to throw. they warned the bug one more time and this time it stopped in its tracks, paused mid-step, frozen to the ground. with a shaky motion it pointed its axe towards inventorsbug, and with a deepening of its smile a branch of yggdrasil sprung forth from the tip, stabbing through inventorsbug’s carapace with ease. the other bugs in the group began to flee, screaming their heads off as they did not want anything to do with this at all. deliverysbug stayed, running up to inventorsbug, turning her back on the other bug. she cried, holding onto him as he stand, dying. with the last of his life force he told deliverysbug to run, and dropped the fire bomb at his feet. it exploded into a huge ball of fire that obscured the area all around them, and he coughed out one more time for deliverysbug to go, which she heeded. as she ran she looked back to see the smoke clearing, the odd bug still locked in the same stance as it was before with inventorsbug on the tip of its axe, only its eyes were focused on her. from there on she didn't know what to do with herself. she distanced herself from the party, realizing that this was the same bug from the start of the conflict, and that newsbug and doctorsbug had as little knowledge as she had. she wasn't special, she was just a bug. she left to live on her own, and took the writings of inventorsbug with her, learning to create and use the same things they did, even modifying some of their designs to more fit her abilities. which brings her to today, the greatest day of her life now that the trio has finally returned. 
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isleofancients · 1 year
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swaps? so, like Pax and Template, but bigger. their tail slows a bit, not from unhappiness, more distraction, taking this all in. "I think I remember Aiden telling me about that, but it was the same time he was telling about... er, everything." they consider the wiggly one, admitting, "it was a lot of things, and I think I might've missed a lot of details. but... I think he said that Green is kind of like Q, and also really nice. and that you and the others are errors from both multiverses."
though come to think of it, the only place with that many errors in this multiverse was- oh. their tail stops midswing, as they suddenly remember the white place, filled with the hungry black goop that reached out and tried to devour everything. how Nouveau had fed it the errors he was 'done' with, across millions of years. they'd thought Flare had destroyed- but, where else-
"that was you, wasn't it?" the words offered, slow and quiet as they take this in. "or, part of you? in that place. you didn't talk then though." maybe the errors from the other multiverse made that possible? they just know that even glimpsed through the fourth wall, it had been bad. the sludge, even from a distance, utterly terrifying...
but, Cyan didn't seem terrifying.
"if that was you," softly, the bitty asker's wag returning to wag, if still slowly, "I'm glad you're doing better now. and you seem really nice. so it's nice to meet you."
"Wasn't us at first." Cyan shrugs. "But it needed cleaning up. They were suffering and we needed to eat, so..."
It hesitantly plops its head on Rasse's lap, within touching distance as it gives you big puppy please pet me look how cute I am (ignore how we just admitted to eating a bunch of people) eyes.
"We could talk and stuff then, but we didn't. Were still hiding, didn't think it worth trying to make friends with anybody. Didn't think anyone would want to be."
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alastairft · 1 year
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Star Track Discovery season 4
One of the reasons I stopped using Tumblr for the longest time was that I wrote an enormous copium-fueld essay on how Star Trek Discovery season 1 was actually really good and had to hide in the mountains of Tibet out of shame for 5 years.
Anyway as redemption here's a bunch of notes I wrote earlier this year about the fourth season of this terrible show I'm still watching for some ungodly reason.
Preface: When I say that an episode of Discovery is alright, I mean by Discovery standards. If a good Discovery episode were a TNG episode for example, it'd be a 3 or 4 out of 10, 5 out of 10 at most.
Episode 1
Uniform redesign looks better. They no long look like prison outfits, but the saturated colours clash with the highly muted sets.
They also look really heavy and hot.
Opening action scene felt like Kurtzman on autopilot. Misunderstanding-resulting-in-chase-scene is trite.
Eerily similar to Into Darkness and Beyond’s opening.
I hate the dialogue.
There's a constant quippy smugness to the dialogue that makes you want to grab the characters by the shoulders and shout 'take this seriously!!'
Joss Whedon has a lot to answer for. Popularising annoying TV dialogue is easily the worst thing he’s ever done.
Introduced to the Federation president.
Half-Bajoran-half-Cardassian is a nice touch.
Nice way of conveying theme of unity. Tora Zeal throwback.
Utterly predictable conflict with Burnham immediately established. Pencil-pushing politician vs (wo)man of action, yadda yadda.
Calling it now; they’ll spend the season hating each other then at the end they’ll realise they’re not so different but Burnham will still get her way without much if any compromise.
Enterprise shoutout; strings of the theme. Lovely.
Stan Faith of the Heart!!!!
Discovery rescues a space station, President comes along.
President is constantly snippy for absolutely no reason.
Weird editing choice: fade after fade between the same two shots of the space station set and Discovery.
Felt like a Tim & Eric bit.
Bridge must have a gas leak; the back walls keep belching shoddy-looking pyrotechnics that looks like they belong at a stunt show.
Stammets is VERY concerned about What’stheirname’s wellbeing.
It’s still faintly inappropriate. Some professional detachment, please.
Burnham gets in an argument with the president when she doesn’t get offered something she didn’t want in the first place.
Sums Burnham up neatly.
Meanwhile Saru is on Kaminar doing something I guess.
Booker does family shit but then his planet and family explode, whoops.
Episode 2
An improvement over the first episode, overall.
Episode called ‘Anomaly’. Two issues:
Very generic name
Disco S1’s titles were bonkers, what happened?
Was already an episode of Enterprise
I hate the lofty whisper Burnham does constantly. Just talk normally!
Saru asks to become the second in command.
Really not how a chain of command works.
Ian Alexander, whose character I’ve now realised is called Grey, is getting a new digital body.
No show kills and subsequently unkills its queer characters like Discovery.
Broadly I didn’t have an issue with this, until they tied it into Star Trek Picard, which can fuck right off.
VERY nervous that the next episode is called ‘Choose to live’.
Kurtzman: It’s NOT a cool phrase. Stop trying to make it catch on.
Still of the opinion that that character IS dead and unkilling him goes against the entire idea of the trill symbiont.
Related: Still not over that they made Captain Picard into a zombie android.
I still can’t remember what What’stheirname’s name is.
Something beginning with V?
Booker’s planet was destroyed by a roving binary black hole.
‘We’ve never seen anything like this before!’ except the whale probe and V’ger and pretty much every superweapon in Trek history but other than those, nothing else like it.
Glimpse of a Ferengi; first live-action Ferengi since Enterprise season 1.
Looked faintly wrong though.
Not season 1 Klingon levels of wrong, more like Discovery Andorian levels of wrong; a few needless extra things added on that gave a sense of ‘why didn’t you just go with the proper design?’
I totally thought that guy was Booker’s husband. The way it was shot and written he absolutely came off as a spouse rather than a brother.
Probably would have been more obvious if my memories of season 3 weren’t dominated by a sad child setting the galaxy on fire with the space crystal wifi in his brain.
Booker is sad but does space research with Stamets anyway.
Burnham gives a lofty speech so Booker doesn’t kill himself, but it was impossible to focus on; pretty sure it was generated by an AI designed specifically to produce lofty speeches.
Not helped by the lofty whisper voice™.
They discover the roving black holes can travel anywhere, that’s no good!
Episode 3
Despite invoking that stupid Romulan murder nun order from Picard, this episode was alright.
‘Choose to live’ is still lame, no matter how much they explain the entomology.
Add to that ‘Absolute candour’ and the whole ‘lost cause’ thing and they REALLY feel like they’ve been ripped from a 15-year-old’s sketchbook.
It’s taken me far too long to realise they’re Jedi rip-offs.
Episode opens with sword murder, very Star Trek, much cool.
I’ll only accept Star Trek sword murder if it’s done by the Klingons.
We’ve not seen any Klingons since season 2…
Given the look of Disco Klingon’s and Lower Decks making them look correct that’s probably a good thing.
The mystery of the episode was fairly compelling; a rogue Romulan murder nun defending an endangered species.
Plot was resolved without violence and gore. A low bar but it’s a rarity in Discovery.
Burnham-President relationship still trite and predictable.
Tilly has nothing to do so she takes up gardening
That’s it that’s pretty much the entire plot point.
One line of dialogue really stood out to me:
‘This mission will do her good and her it’
Acceptable but REALLY stretching what you’re allowed to do with English sentence structure.
Stamets is trying to figure out the anomaly by doing stuff involving Dark Matter.
Can we talk about how wrong sci-fi constantly gets dark matter?
Dark matter is when the maths says there should be something there but what it is can’t be quantified. Once you’ve identified what it is enough to work with it, it’s no longer dark matter because you give it a name.
I hate it when sci-fi treats it like a cake ingredient. The Flash does it constantly, too.
Replace the phrase ‘dark matter’ with ‘funny magic gunk’ and absolutely nothing is different. Prime technobabble nonsense.
Grey’s robot zombie body saga continues!
I still think it defeats the point of the trill to permanently resurrect a host.
There was that episode of DS9 where Kurzon doesn’t want to go back to being dead and it’s treated as a bad thing.
Was there a scene cut between Grey getting briefed and going into the android body? Felt like the actual ceremony of removing him was missing.
What’stheirname is instantly scared and angry that Grey hasn’t woken up.
Clingy much?
That’s their entire relationship. One day they’re going to wake up and realise they can’t stand each other, I guarantee.
He wakes up like an hour later without any consequences, so all the worry and drama seemed unnecessary.
Discovery has a new bar I guess?
What’s the point of the mess hall now? The mess hall is just a boring blank room, but this bar has like, THINGS in it. Having both seems superfluous.
Episode 4
Final negotiations for Navar re-joining the Federation
Navar President springs new clause last second. Pretty sure that’s a dick move when the pen is basically hovering over the contract but there we go.
Because a black hole might kill everyone, Navar wants the ability to spontaneously do a Brexit. Unclear how this will help them survive a roving black hole crisis but anyway.
Federation president isn’t into this idea.
Burnham’s solution: basically, poke her head around the door every now and again and ask, ‘Everybody cool?’.
Navar back in the Federation now.
Navar President and Saru might be a romantic item?  Okay.
B-plot: Tilly goes on a cadet expedition, but the shuttle crashes and a teaching aid dies.
Why do people trust this woman to captain ships? She screws it up catastrophically every time she tries.
Cadets don’t like each other but then they learn one thing about each other then they’re best buds.
They climb a mountain so they can send a distress signal, but the signal gets them chased by giant crabs I guess I’ll be real this B-plot was really boring and it was kind of an uphill battle to keep paying attention.
Entire episode was kinda boring.
Instead of learning the lesson that she shouldn’t be in charge of anything, Tilly decides that her true calling in life is to be a teacher; she leaves Discovery.
Her exit was a brief montage at the end, last season the genocidal cannibalistic space fascist Georgiou got an entire storyline culminating in a two-parter where everyone tearfully toasted her.
Misc. notes:
Where’s Tig Nataro? Where’s she vanished off to?
She was always in episodes very inconsistently, has she permanently left now? Weird that no one’s even mentioned her.
Too much ambient score in this show.
It’s as if the show is afraid to be quiet and let the scene breathe, as though the audience have to be constantly told what emotion to feel
Every episode I tell myself that this will be the one where I memorise What’stheirname’s name, and it never happens.
Something beginning with C?
Episode 5
Oh there’s Tig Nataro.
Burnham & co. discover that the roving black hole is artificial and was made by someone.
Thought that was fairly obvious but it’s apparently a big shock
They run down a big list of godlike/mysterious aliens from Trek lore that could be behind it for the sake of winking at the audience.
They know the name of the Caretaker’s species, but they don’t know that the Romulans use a dilithium-free warp drive that could have negated the entire third season.
Still not over that.
This episode: dickheads!
Discovery rescues a colony that’s about to get black holed, but the magistrate is a dickhead who’s really into the idea of letting prisoners die.
Burnham isn’t so she and Booker go to rescue them.
Assigns someone else to do the bulk of the work which we don’t get to see.
The prisoners are guarded by Mega Man enemies; scarab beetles that shoot buzzsaws and explode.
There are 5 prisoners who all committed minor offenses except one of them who’s sad that he did a murder 30 years ago.
The prisoners need a weird amount of persuading to escape, apparently ‘there is a roving black hole coming to kill you all’ isn’t persuasive enough.
They escape after being guaranteed political asylum, except sad murder man who stays as penitence.
He gives Burnham an heirloom he stole 30 years earlier. Booker isn’t into leaving him but whoop gotta go.
Burnham gives Heirloom back to original owner’s daughter.
It’s a hologram of a family tree but it looks shit, could have made a new one in about twenty minutes.
End result: Colony of 1000 rescued; Burnham saved a total of 4 people.
Good job.
Meanwhile, Stamets does science with a psychotic dickhead who looks and sounds distractingly like Alan Arkin.
If this were a high school PSA he’d be one of the mean older kids that encourages people to smoke.
Stamets and Not Alan Arkin try to make a mini black hole controller.
Almost explodes, peer pressure bad.
It’s unclear why this couldn’t have waited until after the evacuation, when they could give all of Discovery’s resources to the project.
Not Alan Arkin and Booker meet in the bar at the end and Not Alan Arkin implies he knows more about the black holes than he’s letting on just for the sake of being a dickhead I guess. Gotta commit to the bit.
This episode was fairly decent, which is like being the most handsome person at the Andrew Lloyd Webber lookalike contest.
Episode 6
The seasons format has become predictable; each episode exists to drip-feed one new piece of information about the DMA. Consequently, the events of each episode end up feeling like they exist just to dress up a single line of exposition for the season’s inevitably one-and-done McGuffin.
This episode’s bit of drip-fed information: the DMA originated outside the galaxy.
DMA sounds like an obscure file format from the Napster era designed to combat piracy that requires two separate plugins to work which takes up 70% of the computers background processes which in turn just convinced more people to pirate stuff.
Star_trek_discovery_season_4.dma
Discovery gets stuck in a void where some anomaly is coming to disintegrate the ship.
Demonstrated by slowly killing a screaming robot
They hang a lantern on the fact it’s screaming which seems needlessly gruesome.
Could have just been a random probe. Audience would have understood that disintegration is no good. Maybe they felt like they needed to hammer home that it can kill people.
Meanwhile, the computer has emotions now.
It’s overwhelmed so it plays chess with Grey.
Computer is unsure whether or not to report a massive gaping hull breach. Eventually it does.
Result: A yellowshirt dies, but not everyone on the ship dies so… that’s good?
Everyone’s over it pretty quickly, the attitude is essentially ‘Eh, everyone makes mistakes.’
In fairness that’s pretty standard for yellowshirts in Trek.
They use sonar to navigate and leave the void.
Everyone stores themselves in the transport buffer, so they don’t catch fire. Burnham puts on a dumb looking Daft Punk disco spacesuit to pilot the ship out.
They have to deactivate life support as well, but I forgot why to be honest because the DMA exposition drip was right at the top of this episode and my ability to pay attention was diminishing.
Still a lot of fire considering the lack of oxygen.
Also, Booker messes up the spore drive and sees his ghost dad.
He’s all pissed off and then he leaves.
Burnham works on a family tree which for some reason includes most of the crew.
I keep hammering it home but please, can we have some professional detachment in this show?
Holograms in the TNG era – 800 years earlier – looked solid and had full colour. Looked entirely real. Holograms in the Discovery era are blurry, transparent, and exclusively blue.
Nit-pick: The pictures on the family tree rotate so they’re always facing the camera like enemies in the original Doom. From Burnham’s point of view, are they twisting back and forth?
Meh episode.
Episode 7
This episode was actually pretty good overall.
An episode consisting entirely of talking in rooms debating stuff, prime TNG fodder.
A-plot: Debating what should be done about the dark matter anomaly.
FedPrez™ wants to attempt diplomatic solution to DMA crisis.
Booker and Not Alan Arkin think they should just destroy the thing that makes planets spontaneously explode. Not Alan Arkin very bluntly proposes using dangerous illegal weapons which the delegation isn’t into.
Also revealed that Not Alan Arkin is from a parallel universe and wants the energy from the DMA to get back home.
Didn’t seem like a particularly necessary or well-implemented detail, he mentions it in an aside and it doesn’t really affect anything.
Burnham thinks they should give peace a chance
Obviously she’s going to be right in the end but in the episode it makes Burnham seem incredibly tone-deaf that she wants to be diplomatic with the force that murdered her boyfriend’s family and civilisation.
The delegates vote to try diplomacy.
Ending: Booker and Not Alan Arkin go off to destroy the DMA anyway.
Honestly pretty exciting cliff-hanger. Good note to go into the mid-season break on.
Conference hall had an extremely impractical design. It was one million stories tall, no way the people at the bottom would be able to hear or see anyone at the top (or vice versa).
Also, no chairs. That just seems cruel given that they knew Michael Burnham would be talking.
B-plot: Debating what should be done with sentient computer.
Computer won’t give coordinates because it’s worried about the crew’s safety.
Shit computer. Like if Windows 11 refused to open excel because it was scared of the sums the user might do.
David Cronenberg, Stamets, the doctor whose name I’ve forgotten, Saru, What’stheirname and Grey sit in a room and debate it for ages.
Seven or eight lofty speeches and a lot of stock footage later they decide not to delete the computer and that it’s allowed to join Starfleet, because it demonstrates that it’s reprogrammed itself so that its priority is caring about the crew.
I was with this b-plot until this part, when it got way too sugary and saccharin in typical Discovery fashion.
The stock footage does that Star Trek IV thing where it just uses fully edited footage from the show that it would have no way of capturing.
Characters entering the scene reminded me of It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia, specifically in the way they burst into the room and suddenly monopolised the conversation.
Just needed one of them to go ‘ey-yoo!’ as they walked in, holding a case of beer.
Grey leaves the ship to go and learn how to stir mud on Trill. Wouldn’t think there’d be much to learn about it but he’s fairly surplus to requirement on Discovery so fair enough.
Tig Nataro’s vanished again.
Episode 8
This episode: Confusing gambling!
Burnham and that helmsman not the one who got that headwound last season the other one whose name I’ve forgotten so let’s just call her Sparky track Not Alan Arkin and Booker to a casino.
Not Alan Arkin and Booker want to win a thing to do a thing
Burnham and Sparky want to stop Not Alan Arkin and Booker from winning the thing to do a thing.
Sparky gets into a wrestling match for unclear reasons against a massive cocky guy.
Called it the moment I saw a comical glowing wrestling ring in the middle of the dingy set.
Entirely predictably, she throws 2 bouts and wins the third easily.
Wouldn’t it have been a more interesting moral dilemma if she was wrestling someone desperate? Who wasn’t as experienced and was clearly worried, but had no choice but to fight so their family as enough money to buy food? If she had to weigh up the needs of the many or the one on the fly? Could have made for an interesting B-story about how far people are willing to go to do what they think is the right thing, paralleling Booker’s motivation this season.
Would have helped establishing the casino as somewhere morally scrupulous, too.
See STD writers, this is called outlining a story, it’s a thing people do in writers’ rooms instead of just spout trite cliches.
I should write 2-hour long aggressively pretentious video essays.
“THE REAL PROBLEM WITH DISCOVERY YOU DIDN’T NOTICE”?
Burnham, Booker and some goons play poker and Burnham acts like a child for some reason.
Booker wins and makes off with the McGuffin, but twist! Burnham put a tracker on it, so Starfleet knows where they are.
There’s a changeling there who’s doing something unclear, then she gets caught and that’s the end of that.
Always thought changelings had more lofty agendas, apparently they rob casinos on the side.
This episode’s bit of drip-fed information: The DMA is mining equipment for a civilisation based in a faraday cage.
Misc. note: It never ceases to astonish me that this show has 4 main cast members but 27 producers.
Uninteresting episode.
Episode 9
The breathing apparatus lady from the last season returns, her orders are to kill Booker if it comes to that and Burnham can’t do it.
Discovery tracks down Booker and Not Alan Arkin
They spend most of the episode flying around and shooting at each other in a way that feels weirdly casual.
This weeks drip-fed piece of information: The DMA takes a week to mine a system of all its McGuffinium.
Burnham tells this to Booker and he agrees to stand down for a week.
Not Alan Arkin just fires anyway, destroys DMA.
Later: There’s a new DMA, species 10C now aware of Federation presence, implied hostility.
Why 10C? Why not 10A or B?
Assuming the Federation species cataloguing system works by placing every letter of the alphabet after a number before moving onto the next (4Z would precede 5A for example) that would make 10C only the 237th species the Federation has encountered, which is self-evidently far too low.
In season 3, it was stated that at the Federation’s height its member species numbered 350, which based on my calculations, is a bigger number than 237.
Keep in mind 350’s only the number of species who were part of the Federation, not the total number of species the Federation had come into contact with.
This would mean that the Federation had 113 more member species than the Federation themselves were aware existed.
Overwhelmingly unremarkable episode. Almost nothing to say about it as shown by the barely semi-related rant about categorisation systems.
Episode 10
Christ this season is dragging.
Discovery goes beyond the galactic barrier to contact species 10C
The idea of the galactic barrier has been thoroughly retconned; it was in an episode of the original series but since then every other season, and in fact the original series itself, has ignored it so it feels odd that they’ve brought it back for this.
There’s plenty of episodes about people leaving the galaxy. Where No One Has Gone Before, to give just one example.
Where No Man Has Gone Before, that’s another one
If you REALLY want to go here you could point out that Tom Paris technically leaves the galaxy in Threshold. But that’s Threshold so…
The galactic barrier is a series of bubbles that make the colours go all weird.
Sure does look like they could just go over the top of it…
Discovery lacks, amongst many other things, a sense of geography. They talk about ‘the galactic barrier’ but… where, precisely? Which quadrant are they in? Which EDGE of the galactic barrier?
They fly into enough bubbles that they manage to exit the galaxy.
Didn’t seem all that difficult all things considered, not worth episodes of build-up.
FedPrez™ receives news that the DMA is headed for EARTH!!!
Also Navar I guess but EARTH!!! The audience knows what Earth is!!!
Can’t wait to see the Mars Defence Network prove completely useless for the 6th time in Trek history.
Burnham and FedPrez™ back-and-forth over whether they should inform the crew or whether it will disrupt their duties.
Eventually, Burnham lets FedPrez™ announce it to the crew.
Stamets and What’stheirname’s (something beginning with B?) relationship continues to feel more and more inappropriate.
I’d give anything for them to drop the surrogate child schtick. It gets creepier with every episode.
HE
IS
THEIR
BOSS
Saru and the Vulcan President’s relationship gets taken to the next level, good for them I suppose.
Meanwhile, Not Alan Arkin bumbles around his old prison cell with Booker and waxes lyrical about his edgy backstory.
They’re there to find some McGuffinium to rub on the ship so they can also exit the galaxy
Not Alan Arkin believes his old cellmate is still alive, that’s probably going to be important at some point but then again this is the Kurtzman era so it might be forgotten about completely, even odds really.
Episode 11
Discovery, well, discovers a ruined planet that was inhabited by 10C, Burnham leads away team (Colbert, Saru, Dettmer) to it to discover anything about them.
Before departing, the delegates express that galivanting around a planet might be a massive waste of time considering Earth and Navar have 26 hours before they start getting DMA’d.
This A plot had distinct Red Dwarf vibes, just needed to be filmed in a power plant with a tenth the budget.
The air is filled with fear pheromones that the spacesuits aren’t filtering out.
Solution: Dettmer presses like two buttons and that fixes it.
They comes across a disused 10C nursery, filled with giant skeletons.
They come to the astonishing conclusion that the 10C care about their children not dying.
That’s pretty much the universal defining characteristic of biological life but apparently this is a ground-breaking discovery.
Burnham huffs some love dust and cooms.
This is the worst sentence I’ve ever written and I’m sorry but that’s totally what happens.
Everyone else huffs love dust too.
They conclude 10C communicate via pheromones.
That’ll come in handy when communicating with them over a viewscreen when they’re dozens of kilometres away.
What’stheirname thinks Dettmer is cool
Not quite sure why as the only thing she ever really did was brain herself when the ship crashed last season.
Conclusion: 10C might be able to empathise with having their planet destroyed or on the other hand they might just be dicks.
Booker and NAA are there also? Somehow? Did they not need to screw around with the whole galactic barrier nonsense?
They sneak aboard Discovery to secretly rekerfooble some energymotrons, and while they’re at it they recruit one of the anti-10C delegates to do some more sabotage stuff.
NAA gets caught by Tig Nataro (who is in this episode) but she gets taken prisoner… somehow? Really doesn’t seem like a situation where he could capture her.
He was literally found cowering under a desk in one scene and in the next Tig was aboard his ship behind a force field.
Feels like something was cut.
This episode was okay.
Episode 12
Apparently it’s written Ni’Var? Whoops.
Discovery finally encounters the 10C. They spray emotion gas on their space fence resulting in the ship getting sucked into their realm.
I actually like that all we see of the 10C are distant shapes in the fog. It leaves them mysterious. I hope they don’t ruin it next episode by showing them in full.
The cinematography this episode blew chunks. Most of the episode consists of people standing perfectly still in a line, followed by endless close-ups. Felt incredibly utilitarian and unnatural for something marketed as a premium show.
Star Wars prequel-esq; establishing shot, shot-reverse-shot again and again. Nothing kinetic.
Except in this instance, they don’t even cut back to a medium shot so they can slightly change position like the prequels do. I kept thinking how uncomfortable everyone must be just constantly standing.
Burnham, Saru, FedPrez™ and the delegates decode a simplified version of the 10C language, before getting invited onto a probe which takes them to a facsimile of the bridge.
Despite this episode being about decoding language, everyone kept coming off as a complete dullard. The Vulcan president, upon going into the probe, immediately asks ‘did it transport us to the bridge?’
On the subject of dullards, one of the B-plots has to do with the doctor, Stamets and What’stheirname figuring out that Tig Nataro has been kidnapped. Despite a million very obvious signs, they simply cannot figure out that she’s missing, thanks in no small part to the computer that has a total inability to give a yes or no answer.
Meanwhile, Tig Nataro manages to convince Booker that NAA is an insane sociopath by pointing out that his equations will make things worse and cause more damage.
Booker, finally acquiescing to the possibility that the utterly bonkers psycho might be an utterly bonkers psycho, confronts NAA and gets locked up with Tig after a bit of a punch-up.
He can justify it by being grief-stricken but still, it was blunt and obvious as a brick through a plate-glass window.
NAA goes further into 10C-land to shoot them a bit.
Burnham et al make some progress talking to 10C but get kicked out when NAA starts causing a kerfuffle.
This season is almost done, it’s almost finished.
This episode was fine. In spite of everyone being thick as a brick more happened in this episode than the usual Discovery fare and it had a nice ominous sense of mystery.
Episode 13
This episode: The nightmare is finally over.
The General who gave NAA and Booker what they wanted confesses, realises she’s been a total chump.
Booker convinces NAA that he’s been a total nob about all this, gets him to calm down.
Too late to stop the plasma thingy they were going to use to destroy the 10C.
Tig Nataro beams back to Discovery
Luckily, the General volunteers to crash a shuttle into their ship which sorts all that out. That’s convenient.
She gets beamed back to Discovery just in time.
NAA beams Booker off ship but his signal gets lost when the ship explodes.
NAA dead, probably.
Earth Spacedock: Tilly and Admiral who was in The Mummy sort out evacuations.
Tilly is absolutely the last person I’d ever want to organise any kind of evacuation. All the poise and reassurance of a wasp that’s just gotten wankered on ket.
We finally get a look at a 10C. They’re giant jellyfish. Also, a hive mind.
They conclude that nuanced communication is impossible in a short time span. 10 minutes later they do it.
The usual Kurtzman era fare of flowery answers and speeches where a single word would suffice, not least of all because they’re talking to an unknown race whose language they translated 20 seconds earlier.
10C ask why Burnham is sad; she responds because Booker died. Then it turns out they snatched his transport signal and he’s fine.
So much for narrative consequences.
Discussion scenes with 10C, as with last episode, weren’t staged particularly interestingly. Just close-ups of people looking up at nothing.
10C agree to only do DMA stuff in uninhabited systems because they didn’t realise lifeforms within the galaxy were sentient.
I’ve got the same problem.
Booker says to shut it down altogether because the DMA kicks out toxic gunk.
10C immediately go ‘okay’ and stop, disable hyperwall for good.
Millenia of civilisation fundamentally altered in a sentence.
Earth safe. Also Ni’Var and Titan etc etc but mainly earth.
General that betrayed them faces absolutely no consequences for almost dooming all life.
Booker to face harsh punishments for firing Isolitic weapons, stealing a ship, almost ending all life: several months of community service.
The final scene:
Lots of crying, hugging, everything wrapped up neatly.
Earth re-joins Federation
It does exactly the same thing last season did where it feels like an ending for the entire series. There’s nowhere else to go now, other than to just introduce another season-long one-and-done McGuffin.
They did absolutely nothing with that fancy new drydock they introduced in the first episode.
Why did they make such a big deal of that? Why did they break out the Enterprise theme for that?
Middling finale to a middling season.
Didn’t climax with an embarrassing catfight so points for that I suppose.
Addendum
The fact that Discovery’s nacelles float besides the ship rather than directly connect to it has ruined my life and thrown me into an existential spiral the depths of which know neither the light nor warmth of the sun.
How do the nacelles connect to the warp core wirelessly? Are they beaming the particles it collects directly to the warp core? That sounds like it’d take up a shit-ton of power if so, not least of all given the dilithium shortage they’ve just come out of. It doesn’t seem anywhere near as efficient as just plugging them into the warp core. Why is having them free-floating in any way preferable to having them directly connected? Plus, if the ship lost power a key component of the ship would just float away.
Imagine if your car had a wireless fuel tank. You’d immediately know it was a bullshit scam because, having a brain, you know that important bits of machinery have to connect to things and can’t just float!
It’s all just another prime example of Discovery being all flash and no substance. Almost all the technology in this show is hand-wave magic bullshit.
Even at the nadir of the TNG era’s technobabble sins, you still got a sense there was an internal logic. That the writers had an idea what each part of the ship did and how it worked, how they all interacted with each other.
This is shown by an exception that proves the rule: in late Voyager they actually did step over that line quite regularly, and most problems were solved with the application of ‘Borg technology’, which narratively might as well have just been a magic cream and it jarred with the tone of the earlier TNG era where they actually had to solve problems.
Discovery is much the same. Any problem solving feels fairly weightless because the ship basically works on magic. I doubt the showrunners really know or care how the Discovery itself works.
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*The next recording starts... but it's different. The screen looks odd, and the audio is filled with static. When a voice speaks, it sounds garbled, distorted*
Hello there. Yes, I'm talking to you, the one viewing this.
*How does it know?*
While you've been watching little Zeldy and her friends, I've been watching you. I can see you through the holes in time
*That's impossible*
Ah yes, the goddess, the narorater, the puppeteer. I'll admit, that was quite smart. Surviving through relics? Playing her story to the incarnation? Genius! If only you actually were smart! You could've really done something!
*They'll find it*
Of course they will. And maybe that's my plan. But but but! You can't tell, can you? Maybe Goddess is a puppeteer, maybe I am too, but in the grand scheme of things, who are we but puppets, scraps of fabric made into something more?
*It trys to get in your head*
Don't listen to Goddess. They're nothing but a puppet, one with little use. Simply made just to say things that would better remain silent! They lie, they try to get in your head. Don't listen to Goddess.
*There's footsteps getting closer*
Fate can't be changed, Goddess. You know the viewers fate...
What in the- malice? Hey! Don't touch that!
...Fate can be cruel...
Someone get Robbie!
...but it always has an end, right?
*The screen cuts out with a burst of static that burns your fingers. It doesn't turn back on*
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aminiatureworld · 3 years
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Enigmatic Feelings
Characters: Albedo, Diluc, Xiao, Zhongli, gn!reader
Word Count: 5,544
Warnings: None
Premise: Love is a potent force. And sometimes little things take on larger meanings, especially when one party is unaware of them.
In which the reader’s s/o is jealous
Author’s Note: This trope is 100% my guilty pleasure. I hope I did it justice.
I also realized while writing this that all these characters have the emotional understanding of a teaspoon, but they’re trying their best, so that’s what counts.
Albedo
Albedo was many things. A great alchemist, a man of secrets, a weapon with which one might someday bring destruction. He was even a lover, albeit an unpracticed one. But what he was not was emotional. Or so he thought.
Of course Albedo knew what jealousy was, knew the sort of stupidity that people could fall into when altogether too infatuated with their own love. But just because one knows what jealousy is does not mean one must fall prey to such things. Or so Albedo assumed.
It was the fourth day in a row that a knight had approached your door. Friedrich was his name, and he was doing a stellar job at capturing your attention, and pulling on emotions that Albedo had long told himself he didn’t contain.
Today the flower was a Windwheel Aster, swaying this way and that in the pocket of space between your two hands. You were smiling at it, or rather at Friedrich, brightly, fingers mere moments away from Friedrich as you went to claim the fourth flower this week. Though the was nothing necessarily untoward in Friedrich’s movements, and Albedo would much rather a person of integrity be attempting to woo you, even if the idea itself turned knots in his stomach; nevertheless it still left a bad taste in the alchemist’s mouth, and a worry in his heart that he was not so immune to jealousy as he’d previous assumed.
“Thank you!” You spoke to Friedrich, giving one last wave before walking back over to Albedo. “Albedo look! It’s a Windwheel Aster. It’s very nice of Friedrich to give me one, maybe I can use it, or maybe it’ll be helpful for your experiments?”
“Yes, thank you. I, I think you should keep it.”
As much as Albedo wanted to take the flower and throw it in the incinerator, he couldn’t bring himself to shatter the smile on your face. No matter how dearly it cost him to see you smile down once more at the delicate red petals. And no matter how much it haunted him the rest of the day to imagine you, face framed by a smile, a bouquet of a random knight’s making in your hands.
That knight as Albedo put away the Bunsen burners and the graduated cylinders he kept his mind preoccupied by thoughts of you. Surely he had to tell you his feelings, for if not they would keep building in his chest; building and building until one day he erupted, with you in the line of fire rather than the knight who was creating this whole dilemma, perhaps even unwittingly. Though Albedo had never been in a relationship before he knew stories. Weren’t books full of those kinds of moments? Men, women, people, all of them running over one another in their misunderstanding, in their overwhelming guilt.
No, he wouldn’t turn out like that, wouldn’t let the two of you be hurt in such a way. He had to tell you. Had to make you understand how much his chest constricted when he saw you carrying the gifts of others, had to let it be known before he lost control of these emotions. After all, wasn’t that what happened with emotions? They grow and grow and one day they spill over. And Albedo never wanted these emotions to spill over. No matter the cost.
“May I tell you something?”
The sunlight was streaming through the laboratory windows, the air warm enough that Sucrose had tied up her hair during her shift. And yet Albedo felt cold, oh so cold. He was going to tell you today. He hadn’t been able to tell you three days ago, nor two days ago, nor yesterday. And now the bouquet of flowers that occupied a tiny glass on the windowsill felt quite large indeed. Today would be day eight if Friedrich showed up at lunchtime, and before that Albedo would tell you.
“Of course you can Albedo, I’m all ears!”
You turned around, a soft smile once more spreading across your face. Putting down the pencil you’d been holding you leaned back against the lab table. Albedo took in a deep breath. He could do this. He would do this. He had to do this. No matter what, today. Today, he would do this.
“I-I’m jealous.” The words hung in the air for a moment, as if not understood.
“Jealous?” You tilted your head slightly, worry making your smile slip. “Albedo, jealous of what?”
“Of Friedrich, of you and Friedrich, or rather, I mean, of Friedrich giving you flowers.” Albedo paused, words tangling in his mouth, tripping on each other in an attempt to be understood. What if this was a mistake.
“Albedo,” you shook you head softly, walking over to cup your partner’s face, “I promise that there’s nothing in it. The flowers are lovely, of course, but nothing in this world could replace or stem my love for you. You have nothing to worry about.”
“I know,” Albedo replied hurriedly, worried still that he might be misunderstood, “I’m not trying to accuse you of anything, or say that I doubt you. My love, I will never doubt you. I just, I just feel so uncomfortable when he brings you flowers. It feels like, like I don’t know; it feels like I’m being poisoned, suddenly and all at once. And I don’t want it to affect the way I act towards you. So, so I wanted to tell you. You don’t have to stop, if those flowers make you happy then that’s what matters. But, but I just wanted to tell you.”
You said nothing, staring into Albedo’s eyes, gaze piercing through the alchemist. It was always that way with you. How you managed to destroy the control he thought he had, the wall he’d erected between himself and humanity. How you made him feel unsure and fallible and whole. And, just as before, now your gaze softened and you shook your head, your smile a balm for the raw unfamiliarity of putting together emotions.
“It’s okay Albedo, I’m glad you told me. Just like my emotions matter to you, I’d rather not see you unhappy. To be honest, I just never saw Friedrich’s actions in the way that he probably meant them. We all struggle with our feelings sometimes, I do just like you. Just as long as well tell each other, all will be well. Alright?”
“Yes. Thank you. I don’t know what I do without you.”
“Well you’ll never have to find out, so it doesn’t matter!”
There was no eighth flower that day, at least not one that was successfully given. Albedo supposed that he could pity Friedrich, but in reality he felt nothing but relief. The emotions that had left such a bad taste in his mouth seemed so far away now, for there was you, only you. It would only ever be you for him, and the days in which you said the same thing of him Albedo felt as if he could truly be happy, and truly acknowledge the emotions that swirled inside him, the love for you so great it spilled over into a vast ocean.
 Diluc
Diluc found most merchants loathsome, something perhaps not entirely fair considering his own status as a mover of goods.
Still, merchants in general were an unlikeable bunch. Prone to complacency and greed, this elite circle was comprised of people who thought of little than of ways to line their pockets anew. It disgusted Diluc and as he stood there, watching as a man who had enough jewelry on his body to weigh down a pack mule and a smile that made one want to run in the other direction, throw compliments and boasts your way, the winery owner was reminded about all that was wrong with the world in which he worked.
“So your goal is to attempt to find a route through which we might trade our wine in Inazuma?” You repeated the words the man had just spoken, expression skeptical. “As much as it would mean good business to begin another trade route, I believe the border restrictions will cause no little difficulty.”
“Restrictions such as those are nothing for a man like me.” The merchant smile once more and Diluc felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand straight up. “I have the ability to wave past such an issue. Indeed with the right price I believe I could expand your network to include all of the seven major lands, if you haven’t been trading internationally.”
“Thank you for your offer.” You replied, too focused on the work in front of you to notice the merchant’s roving sort of gaze. “I’ll see what Master Diluc has to say. However I warn you, as much as international exports are important for a growing trade, smuggling wine into locked countries will do little good. Especially considering what the damage could do to this winery’s reputation if such a thing was found out.”
“Don’t worry, I assure you my methods are completely secure. In fact, if you’d like to discuss it in more depth, I do believe that I may be able to enlighten you over a meal.”
“Perhaps, although Master Diluc would certainly have to be there.” You smiled slightly, and Diluc wondered for a moment if you were being purposefully oblivious or simply didn’t notice the meaning behind the merchant’s words.
“I will be back tomorrow, perhaps you’ll have an answer then?”
“I’m sure I will.” You replied, smiling as the two of you shook hands. As the merchant walked out of the winery your smile morphed into a sort of smirk and you looked up towards the balcony of the second floor.
“You can come out now Diluc, I know you’re there.”
Diluc couldn’t help but smile at those words, he truly couldn’t get anything past you. Hurrying down the stairs he swept you up in his arms, sighing slightly into your neck as you tightened the embrace.
“Ever so observant, my darling.”
“I know that you’d never let a transaction or a business conversation take place without your knowledge.” There was a playfulness to your voice, coming from the knowledge that you were utterly correct. “Still, you could’ve come downstairs you know. I don’t think that anyone would need to believe that you were going through your ‘very important paperwork, and lurking around is your night job.’”
“It seemed somehow wrong to suddenly appear in front of you two and derail the conversation.” Diluc drew away and placed a soft kiss on the tip of your nose, chuckling when you immediately wrinkled it. “Especially since you were doing so well on your own.”
“Oh he’s just like the rest of them,” you sighed, “altogether a bit too full of themselves.”
“Especially in this one’s case.” Diluc said, finally letting a scowl cross his face.
“What do you mean?”
The look on your face was one of innocence and confusion, and for a moment Diluc felt his thoughts stammer, as he realized that you truly were unaware of the way that the merchant was looking at you, unaware of the manner which caused Diluc even now to continue to press his hand gently against your lower back. If you didn’t notice it, then surely Diluc was overreacting, surely there was no reason for his heart to stutter and his stomach to drop. Surely there was no reason, and surely he shouldn’t tell you.
“Nothing at all, I just didn’t like his face.” He hurried now to reply, realizing how odd his pause must’ve seemed. “Will you be accepting his proposal for a business dinner?”
“I’m not sure. I suppose it couldn’t hurt. And then it might be a good venue for the two of you to talk. Since you find him especially ghastly, I think a more public meeting might be easier.”
“Perhaps, but I don’t think that invitation was meant for me.” Diluc replied, before realizing his gaffe and falling silent.
“What? What do you mean of course it’s meant for you. I mean you are the owner of the Winery. Who else would it be for?”
“For, for you my darling. Why else would he ask you in such a way?” Diluc tried to keep the acid out of his words. It wasn’t your fault after all. It wasn’t your fault that some louche was asking after you.
“But I’m not the one in charge.” You furrowed your brow. “I can’t make the final decision. And I won’t allow him to attempt to bypass getting your permission either.”
“My darling, I, I think he meant it a different way.”
“What way?”
Diluc sighed, capitulating quickly to his want to tell you. Even if it was perhaps selfish of him, he was never truly good at keeping his feelings masked away, at least in a way that didn’t result in him completely shutting down. And you meant to much to him than for Diluc to try and lie to you.
“You see, I think he was attempting to ask you on a more romantic sort of dinner.”
“What?”
Your reaction was immediate, your expression quickly turning into one of shock and then of disgust. Letting out a groan you buried your face into the front of Diluc’s coat, eliciting a short laugh from its owner.
“Why? I… I… Even if I weren’t in love with you I’d never go out to dinner with him.”
“I don’t think he would appreciate the sentiment.”
“Diluc.” You let out another groan, shaking your head as if to rid yourself of the thought. “Archons, ugh thank you for telling me. I, disgusting.”
Diluc said nothing, simply tightening the hold of his arms around you. Though your reaction was certainly justifiable he knew there was something more behind them, and he felt grateful for your consideration. Though he knew that would always have been your reaction, it didn’t stop the pressure that ha been building in his chest, the thoughts that screamed what if, what if, what if. What if there is something better than you.
“Hey, are you alright?” You voice drifted up through the fabric of Diluc coat. He smiled, relaxing his grasp around you and pressing a soft kiss to the crown of your head.
“I will be. May I hold you a little longer?”
“Of course. You’re the only one for me, you know.”
“And you for me. I love you.”
“I love you too.”
Those words, though so small, were somehow enough.
 Xiao
The new guest at the inn had been speaking to you for quite some time. That was Xiao’s first observation. The second was that you didn’t seem to mind. The third was that for some reason he suddenly felt incredibly irritated.
It was a beautiful evening, the kind that would’ve normally had you and Xiao sitting on the roof together, fingers entwined, the silence of nature cushioning the two of your from the outside world. It was a ritual, something that Xiao had come to rely on, had come to almost sanctify. Yet here he was, sitting on one of the thicker branches of the trees that dotted the outside of the Inn, trying desperately to quench the anger that bloomed in his chest as he watched you and the guest talk the minutes away.
Perhaps the worst part was that you didn’t seem to mind. Instead of pulling the conversation towards a close, you seemed perfectly content to keep talking, smiling brightly and quickly answering the questions of this uninvited guest. Normally Xiao didn’t care about , or rather didn’t keep track of, the people you spoke to. Of course you would have friends, would have people that mattered to you. Just because Xiao had disconnected himself from humanity didn’t mean that you had to. So why was he so angry?
His patience ran out when the guest reached for your hand. Sidling next to you as fast as he could Xiao peeled off his invisibility, enjoying the shock that registered across the uninvited guest’s face as he moved his hand back. Reaching to entwine his hand with yours Xiao shifted his gaze towards your face. Shock was painted into your expression, but there was also something else, a glimmer of happiness or of satisfaction. Somehow it unnerved Xiao, and he focused instead on the task at hand, whatever that task was.
“It’s getting late.”
“Oh, of course.” Turning back to the guest you smiled sheepishly. “I’m sorry to cut this short, but perhaps we’ll speak again some other time?”
“Gladly!” The man’s face lit up, before Xiao’s glaring left him scampering down the steps.
“Xiao, is something wrong?” The question was so genuine, without any sense of knowing more than you let. Unfortunately the question was also unanswerable.
“It’s late. We should go.” Xiao gestured towards the roof, hoping the reminder would flush the question out of your head.
“You’re right, I suppose it is getting late. And we wouldn’t want to waste such a wonderful evening.” You smiled. And yet somehow Xiao felt unplacated. He was happy, wasn’t he? So why, why did the question hang in the air, and why did the discontent remain?
The next day was a lazy one, as Xiao waited for you to be done with work. More than usual he missed you, and he wished that the hours would go faster, so he might be able to once more enjoy your presence, to banish the discontent that he still felt, evening after an hour spent wholly in your company.
Eventually the sun made its descent from the heavens, and Xiao pulled himself once more to the perch on the tree he’d taken the night before. Gazing down at the balcony he saw the familiar figure of the unwanted guest, and a stab of anger flashed through him. This was made all the worse by your entrance, and the fact you once more stopped to make time for this intruder.
The man was just as insufferable as before, full of jokes that Xiao didn’t understand and words that though praising of you felt somewhat hollow, almost insulting. You laughed along to these jokes, smiled at these odd compliments. And when the man asked if you might be willing to talk more over some sort of meal you merely smiled.
Xiao, however, found the whole ordeal unbearable. Why should this person be asking all these things, be prying you with words of intimacy and familiarity. Had he not arrived yesterday? Was he not an utter stranger? Confusion mixed with irritation in Xiao’s head, and he found it difficult to hold on to the stony reason he’d built up. What was going on? What was this terrible feeling of anger and want? He couldn’t understand human ways. Less could he understand why they should have any sort of effect on him.
Still he had to do something. Had to do anything. Swooping down once more Xiao began the same charade. This time, however, the man merely jumped, and for all his glaring Xiao couldn’t dislodge the guest from his place on the balcony.
“It’s late.”
“Ah it is. Are you hungry?” He asked, addressing you once more.
“I’m not at all, but Xiao’s right. It is late. If you haven’t eaten yet then perhaps you should. Smiley Yanxiao is quite strict about his rest.”
“Ah, then perhaps you’re right. Still, why not join me? You can tell me your name, and we can talk a little more about the things you do.”
“You don’t even know their name.” Xiao spat out the sentence, barely able to contain the odd sort of irritation that still spun around him. He asked you all those questions, said all those words of praise, all without knowing your name. It felt somehow dehumanizing, somehow… wrong.
“I would be glad to learn it.” The man smiled.
Xiao simply shook his head. He needed to leave. It was becoming too much again, and the last thing Xiao wanted was for a stranger to see him this way, see him unsure and confused and not a little frightened of these alien emotions. Glaring at the man one more time Xiao scooped you up. Ignoring the surprised shriek that you let out he shot up into the sky, moving towards the familiar sanctuary of Jueyen Karst, deeply grateful that the guest, whatever he could do, could never fly.
“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” You asked, barely giving Xiao the time to set you down onto one of Liyue’s sloping peaks before asking him the one question he couldn’t answer.
“Nothing.”
“Well it’s certainly not nothing. You’re being awfully rude to that guest, and I can’t understand why. Usually you don’t really care about those sorts of things. So something must be wrong, and I want to know what it is.”
A pause.
“Please.”
“I can’t.” It was all Xiao could say, the only thing that would truly encompass the truth, because in truth he couldn’t. He himself didn’t understand it.
“What do you mean you can’t?”
“My chest hurts.”
“What?” Immediately your face shifted into one of worry, and you placed a soft hand over Xiao’s heart. Somehow the gesture was calming, and Xiao closed his eyes, enjoying the receding of the hot bands that had just been restricting him.
“My chest hurt when I saw you with that, that guest. My chest hurt and I felt angry. That’s what’s wrong. My chest hurt, but now it doesn’t; and I don’t understand it.”
There was a pause, and Xiao studied the expressions on your face, watched as they shifted from worry to confusion to caution.
“Xiao, is it possible you were jealous?”
“No.” The idea was somehow insulting.
“It’s alright to be jealous Xiao. It just means you care about someone very much. You don’t have to just dismiss it like that. I want to make sure that you’re alright, so please be honest. Is it possible you were jealous?”
Xiao let another gap form in the conversation, trying to figure out how to answer. The suggestion felt demeaning, felt as if he somehow had no control over himself, no trust of you. And yet it somehow made sense, and even as he shook his head he found himself letting out a different answer.
“I don’t know.”
“It’s okay if you don’t. I know that new emotions can be frightening, can be difficult to deal with. But Xiao, I’ll always love you. It doesn’t matter who else I meet or what else happens in my life. I love you the way that a bird loves the sky. You’re a part of my life I could never lose. So even if this isn’t jealousy, even if I’m wrong, I still want to let you know. I love you.”
Xiao sighed, a smile finally gracing his lips, the pain in his chest finally melting away. What did he ever do to deserve such a person as you, he would never know. He wished he could repeat those words back to you word for word, wished that he could explain that his love for you was all encompassing, had seeped through the cracks of his existence and his life. He wished he could form together the words necessary to convey his love for you. Even if it was impossible he still wished it.
So instead he leaned over towards you. Letting out a gentle sigh he brought his lips to yours, reveling in the soft sensation of your mouth against his, reveling in the way you leaned against him, bringing you arm up to his neck, letting out a soft breath of contentment as the two of you disconnected.
You didn’t ask him anything else, and for the rest of the evening you two sat on the grass, watching the fireflies dance around you as you leaned against one another.
Perhaps Xiao didn’t yet understand the extent to which he loved you, the emotions that had now risen up, given life by the love you’d poured into the adeptus. Perhaps he didn’t understand this yet, but he knew that all would be well. For with you all that irritation seemed so far away, as if it belonged to a Xiao of yesterday. Because here and now you two were together, breathing in the same mutual contentment, the same mutual trust, the same mutual love. And that present was more important than any jealousy could be.
 Zhongli
Looking back on the matter Zhongli admitted that maybe pretending the problem didn’t exist was probably not the best solution.
It was only that you two had seemed so oddly content in talking, so, compatible, that Zhongli couldn’t help but feel a twinge of discontent, a tension that spread through his jaw and down to his stomach. He didn’t quite understand the nature of the emotion that now spread over him, but he did understand that it was connected to the bond that was now forming between you and the vendor in front of you.
“Dearest one.” He spoke softly, walking over to where you now stood.
“Oh, Zhongli!” Your face lit up as usual, and the ex-archon felt a piece of him uncoil. At least some things seemed to be unchanging, just as wonderful today as they had been the day before.
“I’ve been looking for you. I know you spoke of wanting to learn more about the nature of Cor Lapis, and the tea shop has been offering a new brew. Perhaps we could share a drink?”
“Oh that sounds lovely!” Turning around towards the vendor you smiled gently. “I’m sorry, I’ll have to try that lovely soup you were speaking of some other time.”
“Not at all!” The vendor’s smile was good natured, and Zhongli didn’t understand why he nevertheless felt a twinge of uncertainty. “I look forward to it. I hope you two have a nice day, and we’ll talk about it more later.”
Though the stall receded into the distance as the two of you turned the corner, Zhongli couldn’t help but let the moment run through his mind once more, finding it as sore to think about as a bruise might be to the touch.
“That vendor? Oh they’re new on the scene.” You smiled, taking a sip of tea.
The tea house was as calming as ever, the noises of the outside a distant song, and the hushed whispers inside adding to the intimate atmosphere. Zhongli normally loved to sit here, drinking cup after cup of tea, watching as the people came and went about their business, immersed in a small fragment of Liyue life. Now, however, he found he couldn’t stop thinking about the vendor. If he closed his eyes he could still remember their face, and the way yours was lit up while they were talking to you.
“Their name is Eli.” You continued on, oblivious to the way Zhongli’s hand tightened around his teacup. “They said that they set up shop maybe… two weeks ago? It hasn’t been a very long time, and they’re still struggling a bit. I hope that they’ll be able to get their business off the ground, who knew that street food was such a cutthroat world.”
“The city of Liyue is full of people who might make their way in the world, doing whatever they can. Perhaps it is unsurprising that competition is second nature to Liyue’s citizens.” Zhongli replied, hoping his tone wasn’t too curt. If it was you didn’t seem to mind, nodding softly in agreement.
“Speaking of Liyue and stories, perhaps you would like to tell me the story you were going to tell? I very much doubt that Cor Lapis is the blood of Morax.”
“How humans love to spin their stories.” Zhongli chuckled.
But even as he began to speak of jewels and pressure and the minerals that lay deep beneath the earth a bit of him was still preoccupied by the vendor’s easy words and your smiling face.
The next time he ran into you with the vendor the pit in his stomach had only gotten heavier. Standing a little ways away he let the conversation between the two of you flow in and out his ear, frown slipping deeper the more he heard.
“I cannot believe that your stall nearly caught fire on your first day! How unlucky.”
“Even worse that I didn’t know who to try and tell about it. If I had known you were part of the Guild then I would’ve asked you.”
“Well next time there are troubles you can just send a message to the Adventurer’s Guild. We can’t have our citizens being injured on our watch.”
“You sound like true heroes. I wish I could do the sorts of things you did. Your commissions sound fascinating! I would love to see how you go about your day some time.”
“Really it’s nothing, most days it’s quite boring really, just like any other job. Still, it’s nice to know that people have an interest in what we do.”
“Oh certainly! I find what you do very interest– ”
“My dearest one!” Zhongli called out, unable to continue listening to the conversation, feeling somewhat guilty and certainly upset. You turned slightly, smile brightening as you saw your partner.
“Zhongli! So sorry that I didn’t meet you outside your office, I must’ve lost track of the time. Eli here was telling me all about their first days at work.”
“I’m sorry that I got out late. I hope that you did not have to wait awhile.”
“Oh not at all Zhongli, like I said I’ve just been standing here. You don’t need to feel bad at all!”
“I’m glad. Perhaps now we can go?”
Zhongli attempted to smile, but it felt a lot more like a grimace. You stared at him, face the picture of confusion. Taking a step forward you glanced one more time at Eli, shrugging apologetically. Before any more words could be passed between the two of you Zhongli grabbed onto your hand. Walking quite quickly he didn’t let go until the two of you were at your apartment and he could finally breathe again.
“Zhongli, what’s the matter with you?” You asked, closing the apartment door behind you. Walking back towards Zhongli, who stood there silently, you let your hands rest lightly on his shoulders. “You can tell me you know, I can tell you’re unhappy.”
“I have a confession.” Zhongli started, feeling somehow compelled to reveal his thoughts, as if keeping them locked away would only be dangerous.
“Yes?”
“I, I did not like the way that the vendor spoke to you.”
“Eli? But they were perfectly nice.”
“I do not mean that they were rude. They were perfectly cordial. I mean, when the two of you were speaking, I, I felt uncomfortable. It was as if there was a barrier between us in that moment. I, I did not like it.”
“Oh Zhongli.” You breathed out, an indulgent smile on your face.
Reaching up you planted fleeting kisses on the archon’s face, peppering his cheeks and the bridge of his nose, touch featherlight. It was a familiar gesture, one of comfort, one used in darker nights, when shadows dotted the periphery of Zhongli’s vision.
“Zhongli, I assume you know what jealousy is?”
“I know the term and what it means. I admit I am not personally familiar with the concept.”
“Well I am, so let me tell you. What you experienced, that was jealousy, plain and simple. I know it’s very uncomfortable. Jealousy can be such a messy feeling, it sticks everywhere. But it’s also normal. So you don’t need to worry. I promise that nothing will happen, and I promise that these feelings would go away. I also promise that I love you very much, so even if you feel these emotions, you don’t have to worry.”
“How could I ever worry about you?” Zhongli murmured, wrapping his arms around you, basking in your proximity.
The apology only came in the evening, after words and kisses and love had hung long enough in the air to dull the feelings that Zhongli had been carrying around. Now he lay there next to you, chin resting gently on your head, suddenly realizing that he’d most likely acted quite rudely.
“I’m sorry I ignored Eli.”
“I’m sure they’ll understand.” You murmured. “Though I’m not actually sure what got you riled up about them.”
“You are also a bit oblivious dearest one,” Zhongli let out a soft laugh, “it seems they were quite taken with you.”
“Were they?” You asked, tone betraying your surprise. You paused for a moment, as if trying to replay your interactions. “I never noticed. To be honest, I don’t think I could ever notice, not when I have you.”
“Thank you.” Zhongli whispered, oddly overcome by the confession.
As he lay awake, carding gentle fingers through your hair and listening to the even breaths of your sleeping form he pondered just how lucky he was. Precious gems might come from pressure and earth and chance. But you were more precious than all of them. And he’d never forget that.
633 notes · View notes
pilot-boi · 2 years
Note
Pilot. Pilot. Please. Tyrian and Cinder have just exploded the front of the house, these kids are scared and I’m scared that this is gonna be a bloodbath. Another Pyrrha, but worse.
So, if we are the devils, if we are the messengers of the divine, then I want to try just one thing. Just one, single thing.
—————————————————
UPLOADING: SEW-PATCH.exe
UPLOAD: COMPLETE (?)
PLEASE SELECT A FILE DESTINATION.
> faau_R-XLR.char
ERROR. SEW-PATCH.exe appears fundamentally incompatible with chosen destination.
VALID DESTINATIONS:
> rwby_R-R.char
> rwby_M-C.char
> rwby_S-R.char
PLEASE SELECT A DESTINATION.
> faau_R-XLR.char
ERROR. INCOMPATIBLE DESTINATION.
> force destination.
ERROR.
> force destination.
WARNING. THREAT TO SPACE-TIME CONTINUUM: UNKNOWN. CHANCE OF FOURTH WALLS BREAKING: 200%
PROCEED?
YES / NO
> YES
OVERRIDDEN.
PROCEED?
YES / NO
> YES
OVERRIDDEN. OUTCOME UNKNOWN. POTENTIAL EFFECT ON REALITY DEEMED TOO HIGH A RISK. EFFECTS OF EXPOSURE ON AVIANS: UNKNOWN
PROCEED?
YES / NO
> YES
DIVINE CLEARANCE MUST BE GIVEN.
PROCEED AND EXECUTE SEW-PATCH.exe?
YES / NO
Pilot sees this command appear, sent by one of the messengers. The angels who were destroyed in the cataclysm of a world, when the so-called gods abandoned their people.
Pilot looks at the world they wish to effect. Their old world, the one that destroyed them. The world that stole children and turned them into broken shells of themselves.
The world that rescued a child, and taught him who he really is.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” She asks. Even with how many times they pushed through the override, She has to be certain. She has allowed them their little interferences, giving the children weapons to defend themselves, sending nots of guidance and reassurance.
It hurts Her to see a world so rotten at its core, a world that delights in perverting the very nature of its being. She is merciful, and She allows them to assist the children who long to fix things.
But this… this would fundamentally change the code on a base level.
Even Pilot does not know what this will do.
Pilot looks down at the world. The children are being massacred. It’s happened before, in a million worlds, in a trillion places. Instances of these children always stand up to fight for the good, to protect those the world has hurt.
“Proceed.” She speaks into the nothingness where She resides, and She can almost feel the messengers sigh in relief. “But be wary, I will not allow you to interfere on this level again.”
“If you attempt to, I fear the world you are trying to assist will be utterly obliterated.”
32 notes · View notes
karlnapity · 3 years
Text
i declare war on my body.
chapter 1: it’s sad to know that we are not alone in this.
(tws: nongraphic self-harm)
punz is the first to come back after the egg is destroyed.
it makes sense; after all, he’s the least connected, the least influenced. he only ever existed on the outskirts of the faction, still the most in control of himself of everyone.
it only takes a few days for him to recover, the red receding bit after bit from his eyes. he spends most of those days sleeping, only waking every few hours to stare at the wall. he tells sam his head feels buzzy, like his thoughts are all out of order, and all sam can do is rub his shoulder and encourage him to go back to sleep.
it’s on the fourth or fifth day he starts to regain any sort of energy, tells puffy a little about what it was like to be under the egg’s influence. he’s allergic to any sort of vulnerability, but no one can deny the way his hands shake, and puffy holds them with her own.
the last of the red bleeds through his tears.
>
it takes around two weeks for ant to make any sort of semblance of consciousness. he blinks his cat pupils open on the final day, stares sam in the face, and starts to cry. his eyes are still purple-tinted, but sam can’t care less as he envelopes his friend in a hug. ant is mumbling something that sounds like ‘i’m sorry' over and over and over again, and sam shushes him, runs a hand along the fur on his head in a calming gesture from when they were kids.
they stay there for a long time. whenever sam tries to pull away, ant hooks his claws in sam’s armor and doesn’t let him leave.
sam doesn’t say anything about it, just obliges.
>
it’s a hard and long process, apologizing. punz and ponk speak in quiet, mumbling voices, and no one dares interrupt them. ant begins with puffy, sitting next to her on the beds they set up, and he recounts the story to her.
“i wish i could tell you more,” he says. “but i don’t remember all that much.”
it’s a complete lie, and he has a feeling she knows, but thankfully she doesn’t pry. she just stands, takes his hand, and pulls him to his feet.
his legs are still a bit shaky, but she supports him as she leads them outside.
the vines are gone, and he can’t help but let out a small cry of relief. she grins at him as she leads him to hannah’s house.
the colors are still gone from her house, but as they settle outside he admires the roses that have started to push through the grass once again.
it’s such a wonder to be in control of himself once again. he opens and closes his hands a few times, still relishing in the feeling.
(he’s not sure of the timeline, of how long he wasn’t himself, but he can’t bring himself to ask.)
he looks at puffy, who’s watching him with a complicated expression. he reaches out a paw, and she takes it.
“i missed you,” she murmurs.
he’s been doing a lot of crying in the few short days he’s been awake, but he never seems to run out of tears.
“i missed you too.”
“we were so worried about what would happen to you after it was destroyed. it had such a strong hold on you…”
“i know, i know, but i’m here now, right? everyone’s gonna be ok.”
(it’s a lie. he’s still coasting on adrenaline, on pure unfiltered relief right now, but he knows it can’t last long. he knows they’ll realize they don’t forgive him, and he knows they’ll realize that it was his fault. because it was. he can’t let himself relax for long.)
she doesn’t make eye contact, and he can see her face pinch a bit at that. he feels a bit of a pit growing in his stomach. he almost doesn’t want to ask.
“what is it?”
she purses her lips. “we’re not sure, on bad.”
his stomach drops.
>
he demands to see bad immediately. it’s a long process, on such tired legs, to get down to the area below. they let him and punz recover on the surface, but puffy said they wanted bad as far from any of the egg’s possible influence as the final vines were being destroyed.
he’s sequestered in a room deep below, and as puffy leads ant down the hallway his anxiety grows.
as much as he wants to see his friend, part of him doesn’t.
a lot of him doesn’t. he stills. he can’t bring his legs to move any more. puffy walks a few more strides before she notices he isn’t behind her, and she doubles back.
she notices his expression immediately. “what’s wrong?”
he struggles to get the words out. he’s been struggling with that a lot, lately. he opens and closes his mouth a few times before he can get it out. it’s still surprising to be able to do so.
“i don’t know if i want to see him.” it’s a painful admission, and part of him fears puffy will immediately call him an asshole. hell, he doesn’t fucking want to see his best friend, one of the people he cares most about, his friend who’s comatose. that’s a bit of a dick move.
but she doesn’t. she rests a hand on his shoulder, and he pulls her into a hug as he hiccups. she rubs his back. they sink to the ground, and puffy holds him close.
“why don’t you want to see him?” there’s no judgment in her voice, not like he feared, and something about it unlocks his words.
“i just… part of it… i don’t want to see the effects, because that’ll make it so much more real.” he bites his lip. “and... we... we did such shitty things together- and i don’t want to remember them- i don’t want to remember how we treated each other- and-”
he can’t breathe. she rubs on his back, murmuring reassurances, and little by little the anxiety in his chest dissipates enough for him to think. he pulls back, a bit, gets a clear look at her face. she gives him a small smile, and he returns it.
“you don’t have to, if you don’t want to. we all get it.” she shifts closer, so they’re sitting side by side on the hallway floor. “it’s a hard thing. you deserve to feel comfortable, first of all. you deserve to put yourself and your recovery first.”
he tugs his knees to his chin. he doesn’t deserve to be first, not after what he did to everyone. puffy’s just being nice. they- his victims- they deserve to be first.
(but does bad count as a victim? he can remember, faintly, being horrible to bad. they fought all the time, he knows that, and not just with words.
the egg pit them against each other, had them fight for everything. he remembers more than he cares to.)
old wounds sting, even after they’ve long since healed. he puts a hand on a faint scar on his arm.
bad doesn’t count as a victim. he shivers.
“ant?” puffy asks gently.
“i don’t want to see him,” he murmurs, as horrible as it feels. puffy nods, pulls him into a brief hug, and tells him to go back upstairs, that she’ll be right behind.
he crawls into bed, and he sleeps for a long, long time.
>
“how’s he doing?” puffy asks as she enters the room. sam looks up from the bedside, setting his book on his lap.
“no change,” he says. puffy purses her lips, takes a look.
bad’s been sleeping fitfully ever since the egg was destroyed. he was the first to go down, collapsing the moment the final vine was severed. sam speculates the egg was siphoning the most energy from him, considering he was the leader of their cause.
he looks terrible. he’s hardly been able to sleep consistently for over half an hour, still gasping and wrenching in what seems to be pain, and they can’t figure out how to fix it.
he still has vines curled around his arm and face. they can’t find where it’s coming from, and every time they trim it back it returns within hours.
a few days ago they came in to find it seemingly ripped out. he was bleeding, badly, but when they returned with medical supplies it had already grown back.
(they decided to keep a constant watch, after that.)
she touches a hand to his forehead. none of them are exactly sure what temperature demons are supposed to be, but all the same he seems far too cold. she strokes his cheek, pulls away and adjusts the blankets. it’s a bit tough, with his height, but they make do.
he’s so pale. his skin looks almost gray where it used to be vibrant, and the red accents still haven’t turned from white.
(he looks dead. every time she comes to see him she can’t help but reach for his pulse. can’t help but check.)
she leans back, sighs. “ant didn’t want to see him.”
sam frowns. “punz and ponk didn’t, either.”
“he didn’t say much on it,” she continues, sitting beside him. “but he seemed almost… scared, i’d say. he said they didn’t treat each other too well.”
“it’s not surprising, is it? it must have been torture, it’s not surprising to learn it had them be awful to each other. if they were too close they’d find a way to fight back, and it couldn’t have that.”
she nods, putting her head in her hands. sam rubs her shoulder. she leans into his side, lets herself break just a little.
(only a little.)
“i just wish he’d wake up.”
“i know,” he says quietly. “i miss him. we’ve just got to hope it’s soon.”
>
punz starts out the day with the express need to forget what the fuck happened.
he can’t bear the way they look at him. puffy and sam’s pity makes him sick, and ant’s trying desperately to avoid him at all costs, and ponk still has a hard time looking him in the eye.
it hurts. he wants things to go back to the way they were, but he doesn’t because that was dream. he’s not sure what he wants.
he deserves a fucking break.
he’s not supposed to leave, yet, not without someone to accompany him, but he doesn’t care. the constant care is suffocating, and he just wants to pretend he’s back to normal for five fucking seconds.
so he grabs a bag, a couple loaves of bread, and
his head still hasn’t cleared, and his body is still utterly shot from being stretched to its limits for months, so he can’t run too far, but he doesn’t care.
(the pain is good, means he’s atoning, and when his lungs burn this hard he can’t even focus on memories.)
he coughs, stumbles, and finds himself on the ground. he rolls over, lays flat on his back, and stares at the sky. he wants to scream.
can he not have five seconds?
his brain feels fuzzy again. it’s been hard, lately, to think much of anything beyond a need to escape a mysterious, nonexistent enemy that’s probably just inside his own mind, but he can’t relax, can’t let himself go, can’t concentrate on anything because of sheer fear.
(puffy says it’s hypervigilance, a trauma response, but that doesn’t make sense, because wasn’t he doing the traumatizing?)
none of it makes any fucking sense. he just wants to curl up on the hill he’s found himself on, stay there forever. it’s so hard. he just wants to stay here forever.
he curls onto his side, closes his eyes. everything’s fuzzy.
“punz?”
he jolts, almost screams, but it’s ponk. he can relax around ponk. ponk’s safe. he settles back onto the ground. “you awake, buddy?”
he waves a hand, and ponk grabs it. he feels the other sit beside him.
“you’re not supposed to run, it’s not safe.”
punz grunts, rolls back onto his back. he has to put extra care into making words, now. it’s so much more tiring. he considers just not responding. he does. “yeah.”
ponk sighs. “ok. can you stand?”
it’s a long process to get back to the base.
>
bad wakes up slowly.
the first time, sam barely notices it. he rolls over, raises a hand to rub on his face, which isn’t too uncommon. the keen of pain that follows is still business as usual, much as it makes sam’s heart ache.
then, all of a sudden, he gasps. his hands fly up to pull at the vine on his face. his eyes are still closed, but he’s crying, sobbing, even, and he grasps with what seems to be his full strength. sam stands, trying to figure out what to do, when the vines fly off with a sickening noise that makes sam want to be sick.
they fall to the ground, and he raises a netherite boot to crush them. it makes a horrible squelch, and sam knows he’ll have to burn the boots later to get the stain off, but it doesn’t matter.
what matters is the blinking, too-dim, barely open eyes in front of him.
sam pulls him into a tight hug. bad makes a sort of growl in the back of his throat that makes sam’s hair stand up on end.
bad doesn’t usually speak in his native tongue, anymore, and sam has no idea what he says, but he doesn’t care.
his friend is alive.
>
everything hurts so much. every single nerve in his body feels like it’s on fire, feels like he’s burning up from the inside.
someone- sam, it’s sam, it’s sam it’s samit’ssam- is petting his hair, running his fingers through the knots and working them out gently. he’s saying something, but the rushing in bad’s ears is too much to be able to understand anything at all.
he’s so tired. he wants to fall asleep, wants to sleep forever, but the pain is so much that he can’t do more than collapse against sam, let the other man carry his weight. he wants to bring his arms up to return the hug (it’s the least he can do) but he can’t.
he lets out a whine. everything is too much. the world is too bright, his own breathing is too ragged to his ears, even sam’s touch hurts. sam just continues murmuring words bad doesn’t understand and running his fingers through his hair.
the door opens, or at least he thinks it does. he’s not sure. his weight is passed from sam to another and he cries out. he doesn’t want sam to leave him, but this new person talks in a voice that calms him. he feels a warm washcloth on his face and it’s the only thing that doesn’t burn. the person takes his hands and warms them between their own, and the pain eases just a little.
he relaxes, slowly.
there’s still whispering in his ears and he tries so hard to tune it out.
(it hurts.)
he curls in on himself when it grows too loud.
it gets louder. he doesn’t stay awake for long.
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jinkicake · 4 years
Text
Nice Hickey
Akaashi, Kuroo, and Oikawa with a s/o who loves to leave hickeys on them. 
Akaashi Keiji x Reader
Kuroo Tetsurou x Reader
Oikawa Tooru x Reader
Here you go anon~ I hope you like it! I couldn’t resist adding in the third years in Oikawa’s little drabble, you know how I am for them.... Anyway, what I would GIVE to hear Akaashi’s moans. Please, I’ll cry thinking about it.
P.S. I’m going to try out a taglist tell me if this shii works hehe
Akaashi’s is very smutty.... Kuroo’s is semi-smutty... Oikawa’s is crack... 
WC- 1,693
~~~
Akaashi Keiji
Akaashi is such a pretty boy, he would look gorgeous with hickeys littering his neck
You love leaving hickeys on Akaashi because it’s a reminder to everyone else that ‘yeah, this hottie here is taken’
Akaashi doesn’t let you leave hickeys in noticeable spots like it is very rare he will let you
You can suck anywhere on his skin as long as he can easily cover it, that is Akaashi’s rule
Sometimes he forgets the rule, it depends on how taken he is with you when he feels your lips on his body
If he ever gets called out for having a hickey, he would be very stoic and just glance to wherever the person is pointing at while mentally preparing how he is going to get revenge on you
Like if one day after practice he is changing back into his school clothes and Bokuto points at the hickeys littering Akaashi’s hip, your boyfriend would be like …..
Akaashi doesn’t know what to think, he’d probably just ignore it or slide it off like it’s nothing
Even if Bokuto is very dramatic and loud about it
Akaashi would seriously have to put your lips to better use
“You can take all of it.” Your boyfriend stares down at you with emotionless eyes, the only thing that is apparent of his obvious struggle to not shove his dick down your throat would be the hiss that slips past his lips. Akaashi grits his teeth at the way you hollow your cheeks around him, you have only taken about three-fourths of him into your mouth and Akaashi knows you can take more.
He thinks back to the humiliation he faced as his teammates joked about his hickeys, teasing Akaashi relentlessly. Now Akaashi can handle it, he can, but he still wants to teach you a lesson. So with the lick of heat burning in his gut, he grips the back of your neck and fists in your hair before thrusting down your throat. Akaashi holds you against him, your nose grazes his pubes, as he enjoys the way you’re gagging around him. There is spit pooling at the edge of your lips and Akaashi grins at the way it falls down your cheeks.
“That’s it, such a good girl.” He praises and begins to fuck your mouth, he controls the pace. His hands hold your head still while he works his hips to get deeper down your throat. Akaashi switches between harsh thrusts and holding himself down your throat, he moans at the feeling of the tight walls of your throat convulsing around him.
Akaashi loves to hear you gag and swallow around him. 
Your jaw is starting to hurt but you don’t make any move to push him away, not when the noises he is making fuels the way your thighs are twitching. Your hands grip his inner thighs tightly and Akaashi grunts at the way you pinch his skin. The hand on the back of your neck comes to cup your jaw and stroke your cheek as Akaashi stares down at you with a soft smile on his face.
“Such a pretty girl, you’re going to look gorgeous with my cum in your mouth.”
Kuroo Tetsurou
Kuroo loves when you leave hickeys on him, he gets so cocky and low-key proud
Just know that Kuroo will put twice the amount of hickeys on you and spend double the amount of time to mark up your body because he’s an ass </33
There is no off-limits for Kuroo, you can put however many hickeys you want anywhere you want, his entire body is your canvas~
He just loves, read loves, the way your lips feel on him. He feels so special having all of your attention, it’s like a precious activity he adores whenever you two spend time together. #justhornythings
Put little designs on him and he will definitely laugh
If anyone ever points out his hickeys, he will be suuuuch an asshole about it *drools*
Like Kuroo would stand tall and tower over the person, rest his hands on his hips and have the cockiest smirk on his face as if to say ‘and what about it’
Kenma would just scrunch his nose and roll his eyes before turning away, leaving Kuroo to sulk because he definitely wants to show off his hickeys
When Lev points out the heart on Kuroo’s ribs, Kuroo’s eyes would light up and be like ‘yup, that’s my s/o they left it there’. Please, Kuroo just wants the bragging rights.
Again, remember that he will leave double the amount of hickeys that you leave on him,,, take what you want with that
“Tetsurou,” You sigh and tighten the grip you have in his thick hair. Kuroo has you pushed up against one of the empty classroom doors, the afternoon sun is just barely peaking in past the curtains to light up the room. Your boyfriend has been working on your neck for the last handful of minutes, making it known what he is doing from the loud suction noises echoing throughout the room. You fear that there won’t be any blank, healthy, space left on your neck. 
Kuroo ignores you and pulls down the front of your blazer, peaking his tongue out to lap at your warm skin. He starts to nibble on the top of your left breast before leaving his mark once more. You whine pitifully and grind your hips against his thigh that is placed between your two legs, the strong muscle provides you with a strong sense of pleasure. Deep down, you don’t know how much longer you can take this. Kuroo always leaves you so utterly weak and it’s all because you left one too many hickeys on his own skin.
Kuroo pulls away, not too far, and lowers himself to his knees. He lifts up the edges of your blazer and pulls it up to rest just below your bra before he sticks his head under the material. You can only see the top of his dark head through the collar of your shirt but you feel his lips attacking the swells of your breast.
“You’re going to stretch my shirt Kuroo,” You try to scold but end up whining and digging your nails into the door as he pulls your bra between his teeth, letting the material snap against your skin. Kuroo doesn’t stop and something tells you that he isn’t going to be done with you for a long time.
Oikawa Tooru
Please, Oikawa would be soooo flustered any time your lips are on his neck
He loves the sensation, don’t get him twisted, he just gets so weak that it catches him off guard
Oikawa has a sensitive neck, like any touch will cause him to freeze. If he’s talking with his friends and you lightly run your fingers along the crook of his neck, he will lose his train of thought and turn bright red. Sweet baby
He loves to leave hickeys on you though, he gets so possessive and he will spend hours just marking up wherever he wants
It’s kinda funny how he can destroy your skin with his mouth but the second your lips touch him, he turns into a blushing weak mess. I love Oikawa so much.
If someone ever pointed out that he has a hickey, Oikawa would play it off so smoothly
He would act so arrogant and taunt his friends like, ‘it’s because I’m so cute, maybe you could get hickeys too if you were cute, Iwa-chan!’
Which would then result in him getting smacked upside the head
It’s very bold for him to act so confidently like he wasn’t a whimpering mess when you gave him the hickey
Thinking about the noises Oikawa makes…. I guess it all depends on how he feels like he could be grunting and moaning so deliciously or he could be releasing high pitched whines and breathy hiccups
“And if that zombie was holding a chainsaw, what would you do then?” Hanamaki questions, staring at Oikawa with his arms crossed over his chest.
“Oh so a zombie can hold a chainsaw but an alien can’t?!” Your boyfriend retorts with a roll of his eyes and Hanamaki takes a deep breath in.
“In a fight, a zombie would beat an alien.” The light-haired boy spits and your boyfriend flinches as if he got burned, the zombie-alien argument had started from you don’t know what but has been going on for a couple of minutes.
“No, they wouldn’t. Zombies barley have any brains-“ Oikawa starts but his friend cuts him off.
“BUT THEY EAT BRAINS.”
“(Y/N) if an alien and a zombie got into a fight, who would win?” The dark-haired boy turns to you, pulling you closer into his side by tightening the grip he has on your waist. You bite your lip in thought, staring at your boyfriend with furrowed eyebrows.
“An alien.” You lean against him and Hanamaki loudly gasps, shaking his head and refusing to hear whatever else you two have to say.
“I TOLD YOU MAKKI-“
“I’M NOT LISTENING TO SHIT.”
Eventually, this gained the attention of Matsukawa and Iwaizumi and the eventual verdict came down as 4-1. Everyone against Hanamaki, the wing spiker dejectedly faces defeat before telling Oikawa about the latest alien movie he saw on tv last night. You grow bored quickly and lift your fingers to toy with Oikawa’s hair. You thread the chocolate strands between your fingers for a while before dropping them to rest on his neck. You make the mistake of dragging the digits along the crook of his neck and a moan flies past Oikawa’s lips.
The entire group becomes quiet and all stare at their setter like he grew a second head.
“Oikawa-“ Matsukawa stares disappointedly while Iwaizumi lifts up his fist threateningly.
“Shittykawa-“
Your boyfriend simply pushes you out of his arms and frantically waves his hands up into the air, lying about what had happened and saying that you made the noise.
“Sure, alien fucker.” Hanamaki grins and the four of you burst out laughing at the look of hurt on Oikawa’s face.
~~~
Taglist.
@yams046 @why-am-i-sad-and-sleepy
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canary3d-obsessed · 4 years
Text
Restless Rewatch: The Untamed Episode 05 (first part)
(Masterpost) (previous episode) (this episode, second part)
Warning: Spoilers for all 50 episodes of the Untamed
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The Pride of Yunmeng 
Waterfall Date
Lan Wangji gets to experience the two extremes of Wei Wuxian’s interpersonal skills within the span of a few seconds. This is even better than his rooftop date with this horrible annoying terribly, terribly attractive boy.
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Lan Wangji has come here on a mission to make Wei Wuxian do his homework, which is why he immediately tells him “let’s go to the library” gazes at him silently for several seconds...
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...and then lets him adjust his sleeve for him and step allll the way into his personal space. 
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Unfortunately Wei Wuxian is about to guess a Lan Clan secret, so Lan Wangji ends the conversation by saying “let’s go to the library” grabbing him by his sexy arm muscle and dragging him off. Did he hold his arm all the way to the library? Even if he didn’t, his “I don’t touch other people” later at the lake is clearly horseshit. I don’t touch other people unless they are named Wei Wuxian and our brothers aren’t watching. 
(more after the cut!)
Apology in the Library
Wei Wuxian splits his library time between actually doing his homework and trying to make friends with Lan Wangji. And he tries really, really hard, starting by sincerely complimenting LWJ’s calligraphy and offering a pretty okay apology for his prior rooftop antics. Lan Wangji tells him to put his leg down but doesn’t tell him to go sit at his own desk. 
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Lan Wangji exhibits steely self-control as he resists this look, which would cause anyone else’s robes to spontaneously un-weave themselves into a pile of threads.
When Lan Wangji won’t look at him because he feels his apology was not sincere, Wei Wuxian becomes much more formally apologetic. First he says “sorry” two more times, and he starts prepping Lan Wangji’s ink.  This involves grinding an ink stick against an ink stone with water, to make a pool of ink for the calligrapher to dip their brush into.
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This is not Wei Wuxian being annoying and messing with stuff on Lan Wangji’s desk, a la Zhou Yunlan (Guardian). This is an act of service; a genuinely helpful thing to do if you know how to do it properly --which all of these young scholars definitely do--and an action that casts Wei Wuxian in the role of a servant or junior. 
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Then Wei Wuxian offers to kneel down (to offer a major formal apology), while giggling like an adorable dumbass. It's unclear if this is sexual innuendo, just being ridiculously unconcerned about dignity, being slightly into abasing himself for this beautiful person, or all of the above. 
After taking a long moment to consider all this, Lan Wangji slowly and deliberately gives Wei Wuxian three seconds of the eye contact he’s been begging for.
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Then Lan Wangji spoils the moment by dropping a silence spell on him. 
Wen Can I Have Some Fun?
The Wen siblings hang out and talk about their secret villainy and then fret about how much it sucks to have a chronic health condition, which is pretty relatable TBH.
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I know life seems boring now but just wait until you’re an itinerant zombie with nails in your head.
Wen Qing is a devoted older sister just like Jiang Yanli, although with less fainting and more scheming. 
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Good kitty.
Porno in the Library
Now, since this next scene ends with Wei Wuxian being a boundary-crossing jerk, let's start by remembering that Lan Wangji has magically gagged Wei Wuxian against his will three times now, as well as hiding his vulnerable family member behind a ward while lying in wait in order to attack him. So, you know. Teenagers in lust. They are both learning what is and isn't okay.  
Lan Wangji steals a long glance at Wei Wuxian while Wei Wuxian is drawing. 
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Wei Wuxian is putting the finishing touches on a gift for Lan Wangji. The gift is a portrait of Lan Wangji with flowers in his hair. This boy is SMITTEN. I think he knows it, too; he just doesn’t think it’s a big deal yet. 
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Wei Wuxian, who is good at everything, is really fucking good at drawing. 
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When Wei Wuxian presents the drawing to Lan Wangji he says “this is my gift for you.”  This is very good-mannered of Wei Wuxian; Lan Wangji had to supervise him for three days, so he is presenting him with a gift to thank him and say farewell.
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Lan Wangji completely ignores him, which is really breathtaking, next-level rudeness.
Wei Wuxian isn’t bothered by this, however, and just embellishes the picture with an extra flower or something before offering it again. This time Lan Wangji takes in and is very very very pleased with it, as evidenced by his slightly widening his eyes and how carefully he places the drawing on the far side of his desk.  
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Also he gives Wei Wuxian some prolonged eye contact, and engages in what, for him, is playful banter, calling the gift “extremely boring” when Wei Wuxian prompts him to use more words than usual. 
Then Wei Wuxian spoils the moment by pranking him.
Now - let’s look at this erotic-book situation. This is a boundary-crossing prank, yes, but it’s also an invitation to engage in some form of intimacy. For teens who have access to erotic images, looking at them together can be simple naughty fun. Or it can be a way of discovering and bonding over shared sexual identities and interest. Or it can prompt more direct engagement, up to and including having sex with each other.
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Lan Wangji’s horrified reaction means that Wei Wuxian has to characterize this as a prank after the fact, but he might very well have intended it as an invitation to get horny together. 
Either way, his response to Lan Wangji’s “shameless” comment is bound to make an impression.
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Wei Wuxian is from the clan of "be free" and he just doesn't see why this is a big deal. And now he’s told Lan Wangji it doesn’t have to be a big deal. And through him, the producers are breaking the fourth wall and telling every viewer that this doesn’t have to be a big deal and that they shouldn’t feel ashamed. 
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Threats and rudeness and book destruction ensue, and Lan Wangji is left alone in all kinds of emotional disarray, with a bunch of torn up erotica to tape back together throw away.
Boys on the Rocks
Wei Wuxian brags about his prank to Jiang Cheng and bestie Nie Huaisang, telling them that he got Lan Wangji to cuss at him. He’s going to put a notch on his sword handle for this achievement.  
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Jiang Cheng is pissed at Wei Wuxian about this, like he’s pissed at him about everything all the time. Possibly he has already started the seedlings of his lifelong jealousy of Lan Wangji.  
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Jiang Cheng doesn’t realize that he’s essentially prepared Wei Wuxian to court Lan Wangji by constantly criticizing, hitting, and threatening him. After a decade of Jiang Cheng’s rough style of brotherhood, Lan Wangji’s elegant and refined hostility rolls off of Wei Wuxian like water off a duck’s back. 
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Nie Huaisang wants to make sure Wei Wuxian didn't rat him out, but isn't worried about the destroyed book because he has a whole external drive full of porn. 
Several Brain Cells Trio
These guys do make some questionable choices together, but actually they are all really bright and effective in complimentary ways.
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Jiang Cheng is growing into a strong future leader - authoritarian and dickish, yes, but also decisive and unflinching. Wei Wuxian is observant of things around him, always ready for combat, and thinks deeply and strategically about events.  Nie Huaisang is a bottomless font of knowledge, sourced from books and from his own observations. 
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So when the Wen spy bird shows up, they spot it, drive it away, identify what it is, and understand that it’s a threat and that its presence has political implications.  
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They are all goofballs at times, but highly gifted ones.
Doo Doo Doo Lookin Out My Back Ward
Lan Xichen asks Lan Wangji if he’s found out who was sneaking around his the back ward and Lan Wangji hesitates before reluctantly saying “Wei Ying.” 
Ok seriously - nobody calls him Wei Ying. Nobody refers to him in the third person as as Wei Ying. Calling him Wei Gongzi or Wei Wuxian would be totally normal. His own brother calls him Wei Wuxian. And Lan Wangji has only called him Wei Ying to his face when he was angry. 
But now--immediately after the erotica debacle in the library--he is Wei Ying when Lan Wangji is speaking of him privately with his brother. 
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By the way, Lan Wangji's shoulders seem super wide in these robes, don't they? I'm not complaining.
Forgettable Disciple #1
Now we meet apparent nobody Su She, who sucks. He wants to take care of the water ghosts himself. 
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He is a no-headband disciple which is like - none of the juniors in the later timeframe go without a headband. The guys who got set on fire at the gate had headbands. One of the Lan Rules is “wear a headband.” Is there anyone else who doesn't rate a headband? This is a plot point later when it comes to the ice cave but for now it just seems that he's that one perpetual intern who never gets promoted and never learned embroidery.
Doctor Qing, Medicine Woman
[OP laughed way too hard at her own joke just now.] Wen Qing is helping Jiang Yanli, and Jiang Cheng is super happy to see her. When did he develop this crush? Because it's already in full swing. 
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Did Wei Wuxian just sneer when he noticed Jiang Cheng’s crush? Like macking on Lan Wangji is more appropriate than this? 
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I love you and I’m going to advocate killing everyone who matters to you
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I’m a nosy jerk and I’m going to be your best friend for life, quite literally
Wei Wuxian complains about Wen Qing ignoring him and she gives him the prettiest, loveliest *sigh* death glare ever.
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However when she sees that he's a little brother whose sister utterly dotes on him, she starts thinking maybe he's all right. 
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For the Yanli-Qing shippers, there is a tiny breadcrumb here, where Yanli says they met by the river bank.  I don't personally ship my personal girlfriend Wen Qing with Jiang Yanli, but I support your ships wherever they may sail.
Continued in Part 2, right here
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deiliamedlini · 3 years
Text
WIP Wednesday
I have been mentally down and writing poorly for a few weeks now, and even my friend was like “oof, yeah don’t post this yet. It needs work” and thankfully has been stopping me from making rash decisions like randomly posting fics to AO3 on a whim.
The WIP below (even though it needs more editing) is the beginning of the new fic I’m going to post next. I’m finally back to the pirates too, which is making progress, but is just slow going because I’m making sure I’m not forgetting plots (which I already have so I am not rushing the chapter but it is in progress finally!).
It’s a Pre-Calamity AU with heavy emphasis on the AU. It’s basically Zelda being forced to train with Link for her safety. Antagonistic-but-not-enemies, to friends, to lovers trope. I want to call it Dance With Me because it’s not really about dancing (I like the other meanings of the phrase), but my friend says it sucks as a title and now I’m rethinking 😂 I’m doing so well! 
~~
When Princess Zelda was seventeen years old, she’d been fully prepared to die.
Ancient prophecies had foretold a Great Calamity that would sweep the land of Hyrule into a great blight and destroy it all unless those chosen by destiny could stop it.
Zelda had been one of those who’d been blessed by the Goddess’s alleged favor: Hylia’s spirit and magic coursed within her.
But the wielder of the Master Sword hadn’t been found in time.
Four champions stayed by the Divine Beasts: Urbosa, Revali, Daruk, and Mipha. And for a year, the five of them waited while King Rhoam of Hyrule went on a mad search for the Chosen Hero and for the location of the Master Sword itself.
Zelda had spent that time relentlessly pursuing the Goddess’ power; she passed out in the holy springs, prostrated herself before Goddess statues for hours at a time, devoted every waking second she had to prayer. But despite her greatest efforts, her attempts were fruitless.
But perhaps the Goddess were showing their favor after all, because despite every prophecy, despite every prediction, wall carving, and palm reading, the Calamity never came, and Zelda was spared a horrific death at the hands of darkness incarnate.
One year after the predicted date, the Champions felt like they could finally move away from the Beasts, ever watchful, but able to maintain some of their daily lives. Zelda stopped spending day and night in freezing water and instead moved to the Temple of Time where the weather was bearable, and the distance was well within reach of the Castle while still spending most of her time in holy grounds.
Two years after the predicted date, the Champions began to lead normal lives again, freely leaving their domains, though they were still ready to return at a moment’s notice. Zelda began to spend more time in the library, sifting through ancient tombs and personal diaries of past monarchs, hoping her answer lied in pages rather than prayer.
Three years after the predicted date, the Champions were harder to find on a day-to-day basis. But Zelda remained steadfast and relentless with her nose in books and her knees in the spring’s water. The Sheikah had to pull her out several times. They had to force her into recovery.
But by the fourth year, the Beasts had gathered dust, and Zelda had utterly given up, instead helping Purah and Robbie with their ancient tech and Guardian research, which—despite the lack of the Calamity—still had other practical applications.
It seemed that everything had been built up for no reason, that there was no Calamity after all.
So, it was only when they’d all gotten comfortable that the Yiga Clan, a cult devoted to the demon lord Ganon, began their relentless assault on Princess Zelda, heir to the Goddess’ devastating sealing powers.
The entirety of that year had been spent with Zelda running from attack after attack, losing her guards, losing Sheikah. She was sent back to the castle where Purah set up protective wards around her room that ran off ancient tech, and she continued working on them so they might be able to encompass the entire castle.
King Rhoam’s royal command had been that Zelda could not touch any Sheikah tech. She couldn’t look at Guardians, or ask about runes and wards. So, Zelda returned to her studies once more until her eyes burned from sitting over tombs in the candlelight.
She had to admit, she’d become proficient in her royal duties, following her father to almost everything she was permitted in. What she wasn’t, he’d fill her in on after.
At this point, a vast majority of Hyrule believed the peace was a sign that the Calamity was never going to arrive. The other school of thought, which Zelda subscribed to, was that the Calamity should be feared far more than ever, its unpredictability keeping the other half of the kingdom in a deeply rooted state of caution and suspense ever since.
Though Zelda had asked her father to let her leave the protection of the Castle more often for experiences outside of prayer, his answer was always the same: “I lost your mother to those cultists; I will not lose you as well.”
“I just want to swim in Lake Hylia,” she’d tried once. “The days have gotten unbearable. Please, father? I’ll take an entire company of guards with me.”
“I’m sorry, Zelda. No. You may go to a spring of your choice. The waters there will likely be a cool temperature. Perhaps try the Spring of Wisdom.”
Zelda was 21, though she felt as though one hundred years had passed. She was tired, bone weary with an exhaustion that had set in so deep, she spent a decent amount of her days simply sleeping. When she was awake, she stared at her hand, waiting for magic to miraculously hit her in the face. Perhaps if she stared long enough, the Goddess would take pity on her patheticness.
The days when she’d been sent out to pray were now her favorites. She’d found ways to coerce her guards into taking longer routes, stopping for longer breaks.
That’s what happened on the day her father had reached his breaking point regarding the attacks on her life.
She returned to the castle shaken and sore, but his tight arms held her as his body shook with relief. He sank to his knees and held her in his arms the way he’d done the day her mother died, and he realized he needed nothing more than to hold his child in his arms to remember that the world was still spinning as long as she was alive.
He’d told her that when he’d said goodnight to her, standing in the doorway of her room with poorly concealed heartache written all over his sagging body.
“I’m really fine,” Zelda said for the fourth time that hour. She sat on top of her long, blue satin sheets, sliding a bit as she tried to adjust her leg. Something about being curled into herself in some way helped make her feel comfortable as she smiled to ease her father’s mind.
“Okay. Well, I’m going to stop by in the morning, if that’s alright.”
“Sure,” she said, shrugging as if she were entirely unaffected by everything she’d been through. She was good at that façade after five years of stares and whispers.
“Okay. Goodnight. May the Goddess watch over you.”
That was how Zelda found herself in the library before the crack of dawn, perched on a ladder in the top shelves of the restricted section. She had access, of course, but she was reading an untranslated a Sheikah tomb from a former handmaiden of the Princess of Hyrule before her ascent to the throne. That Princess had practically bled power, and Zelda hoped her handmaid noted something of interest.
She tucked the book under her arm and climbed down, crossing the library that was filled with several lifetimes worth of books, and stopped in the government documents. Her eyes trailed the spines for a familiar one with territories clearly outlined. She went to the language section to grab a reference book for Ancient Sheikah. Though she was mostly fluent in that, among several other languages, the ancient variations on words occasionally tripped her up. So she set back up to her room with her pile of books, ready to be confined by her father for her safety once again.
Zelda nodded to several of the guards she passed as they stood at their post. Despite the castle being one of the safest places in Hyrule thanks to all the tech, guards were still positioned in the most well-traveled places on their patrols, while two guards stood at her door and her father’s.
Biting her lip, Zelda craned her neck around her pile to try to find the doorknob, fumbling her hand around blindly, just barely able to turn the handle. And because the Goddess never wanted to cooperate with her, she dropped two of the books, though she managed to cling to the relic with tight fingers. The other two fell right onto her guard’s foot.
“I’m so sorry!” Zelda muttered, bending to pick them up.
The guard was beside her, nearly banging heads with her as he grabbed the heavy translation tomb. Thankfully for her, he flinched away in time; he was wearing a helmet that covered most of his head, and she didn’t want to be on the receiving end of that metal. “Don’t apologize,” the guard said softly, picking up the other book for her. “Would you like me to…” He gestured vaguely to her room.
“Oh, no thank you. Just stack them on top of this one.” He did, and she took a step inside before backing up. “Actually, would you mind getting the antechamber door for me, please?”
He stepped inside and pushed the second door open before backing up respectfully.
“Thank you so much,” she said, about to use her foot to close the door when she looked back. “And again, I am sorry I dropped a heavy book on your foot.”
He bowed his head and stepped back out, so she closed the door and set her books down.
Her father came into her room early, as promised.
“Zelda,” he said with a strained greeting. The corner of his lip twitched, like his muscles had become tired under the strain of holding it up for so long, and his eyes held no joy, no spark. It was forced chipperness, and Zelda picked up on it immediately.  “May I sit?”
“Of course.”
She sat on a chest at the foot of her bed, and he pulled the chair away from the desk to face her. “Well, let’s not beat around the bush. There have been many attempts on your life, but I have felt none so potently as yesterday’s. When they told me you’d been attacked, all I could remember was the news of your mother. And then when you were brought in…” he ran a hand along a bruise on her cheek that she didn’t realize she had until she felt a flare of pain cause her to flinch. “You are my precious daughter, and I love you. I never want to see you harmed. That said, others do. It’s becoming impossible for you to safely leave the castle.”
Zelda braced herself. This was where he confined her to her room or to the palace grounds for the foreseeable future. She folded her hands over her lap so he couldn’t see the shaking grow more visible.
“You’ve been unable to protect yourself with your powers, so we must resort to other means. You’re to learn to defend yourself, starting immediately. We still need you at the springs, so I cannot command you to stay here. You still are a priestess of Hylia. So, given your setbacks, you’ll need to learn.”
Zelda’s mouth dropped open as she let the words process through her mind. “I’m sorry, what?”
“We’ll hopefully have a sword in your hand soon enough, but you’ll be able to defend yourself from these cultists.”
“A sword?”
“It’s too dangerous. We’ve lost too many guards. And you can’t fight as it is. This is the best option.”
“No!” she said, much louder than intended. “Fight the Yiga?” She shuddered just at the word.
“Zelda, we need you to live. Hyrule needs you to succeed, and to succeed, you must survive.”
Standing up didn’t make it any easier to breathe, as Zelda had hoped. “You think I haven’t tried?” Tears threatened her eyes as her voice cracked on her last word. As if years of her life sacrificed to unreturned devotion wasn’t enough for her. For him. For all of Hyrule. She’d tried, she’d bargained, she’d offered up her comfort, her breath, her mind, her years, her time. She was one person. What was left for her to do?
“Do you think I just stand there and watch my knights get murdered? Do I just drop to my knees and pray? Is that what you think I do?”
“Zelda…”
“No! You’re right, father. I’ll lead the Yiga right to the Goddess Spring that you need me to go to again just so I can brandish a sword and strike one down with my prowess! Because, Goddess knows that my Knights have an easy enough time with the Yiga, so it should be a cinch for me!” The sarcasm oozed from her in an unintentional venom drip.
“You’re telling me that I’ve failed! You’re telling me to give up and grab a stupid sword! Give me some armor next time I go to the Temple of Time! I don’t need my priestess garb. I have my sword! Because it will absolutely save me!”
“Zelda, please.”
“Please,” she scoffed, finally feeling a hot tear on her cheek. “You’re telling me I’m going to die! Five years ago, I was ready. I knew I’d failed, but I stood vigil waiting for the Calamity to give my life in the final hope that it might stop Ganon! But now, I was blessed with time, and still I can’t do it! I can’t access her powers. So you want me to fail one more time by using a sword to defend myself? This is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard, and I was there when Lady Styla proposed that sham of a fashion show to lift spirits.”
“That’s irrelevant, Zelda.”
From the look on his face, she could tell he was not budging. She tried another tactic. “I-I shouldn’t be near a sword anyway! What if I stabbed myself by accident? Then there’s no way I’ll ever unlock mother’s power. I’ll be dead with or without the Yiga! I already dropped a book on my guard today! That could have been my foot with a knife! And before you tell me that there have been warrior queens and princesses throughout the history of Hyrule, that’s because they never met me. I’m not a fighter! I read books all day! I take notes. I can bore the Calamity to death with a detailed review of the territory lines in Northern Akkala! That might be more effective than a sword, at least.”
“Zelda, you’re not thinking of the big picture…”
“But if I don’t unlock the power because of some silly distraction like learning how to fight, then the world will fall to the Calamity. My time will now need to be spent in that wretched training area with all kinds of sweaty men. Do you want your precious daughter exposed to such a sight? Worse yet, what if I like it and decide to spend all my days there with… shirtless men!” She grimaced and blushed all at once.  
“This is the most absurd argument I’ve ever heard. You leave me no choice but to make that a command from your king rather than a request from your father. Because as much as I love you, I also am obligated to keep you safe.”
“Obligated?” her voice cracked again, losing some of her rambling thunder. “I’m an obligation? Is that how you see your daughter?”
She gasped when he let the silence answer for him.
“You start your training now. Your instructor has already been informed and will be ready for you.”
“Who?” she asked, glancing at the four guards at her door. Two hers, two her father’s. They were all hearing her shame. How long until everyone knew?
“He’s the most renowned swordsman in all of Hyrule, one of our best fighters, and he’s about your age, so he should be someone you can get along with.”
“The best fighter in all of Hyrule is only 22? No wonder the Yiga are everywhere, if those are our standards.”
“Be kind, Zelda.”
“Is that another order, My King?”
He sighed and crossed the room, stopping at her door. “One more thing. While you’re there, I’ve given him permission to overrule you if you command him not to train you. You will learn to stay safe, whether you want to or not. Now change and go. He’s expecting you now.” He turned his head to her guards. “Make sure she goes to the training yard, and if she refuses, come fetch me.”
As soon as he was gone, she slammed her door and sagged into the wood.
She did consider hiding out, but she knew her father would simply bring the soldier into her room to train if he had to. At this point, with the number of times the Yiga had come after her, she wouldn’t have really blamed her father if he’d locked her in a door-less room and dropped this instructor in through a hole in the ceiling until she learned to protect herself.  Truthfully, the idea itself—in theory—wasn’t the worst. Except for the fact that the Yiga were deadly warriors who trained to kill for most of their lives and slaughtered companies of trained Hylian knights.
Grabbing her most comfortable pants to train in, Zelda slowed as she remembered the event that had started this all.
The Great Tabanthan Bridge crossed the long expanse of the Tanagar Canyon, and she was always careful of the crossing. The fall alone would not only kill someone, but it’d likely flatten them clean out from a drop of that height. So, crossing it was not something that was taken lightly on a good day.
Being that far out there was entirely her fault to begin with.
She’d desired to visit the Temple to Hylia that was at the edge of the gorge, but she’d opted to lead everyone along the scenic route to enjoy some of her free time outside of the castle. The guards had protested briefly, but Zelda was adamant about a scenic detour.
What she hadn’t been able to predict or expect, no matter how much research she did, was that the Yiga were there, lying in wait for her and her guards.
She’d been bucked clean off her stubborn horse, and she’d been left on the great bridge as three Yiga ran for her. Though she’d gone to run, she was caught by one who appeared in front of her in a puff of smoke.
Trying to fight them off of her had been like the great struggle of praying for the Goddess’ powers: utterly futile, and a waste of time.  
Half of her attempts to shake them had been by holding the rope handle of the bridge and throwing herself precariously close so they’d have to follow.
The soldiers eventually reached her and fended the Yiga off, but they’d also recounted the entire incident to her father in horrific detail: how she was winded by the time she’d run halfway across the bridge, how she nearly fell off the great, how she couldn’t fight any of them off and had been overwhelmed, and how her weak strength had caused two large wounds in her palms from where she’d tried to push a blade away from her at one point.
Glancing down at her now-healed hands—thanks to the castle medics—Zelda pulled on her boots and tugged up the laces tight. She wasn’t weak. She just wasn’t��� physically domineering. But put any puzzle, any riddle, any impossibility in front of her and she’d find the solution. That’s not weakness. That’s strength. She is strong… just not traditionally.
Her shirt was loose, and she tied up her hair before looking at herself in the mirror for a long time, finally noticing the bruise she’d sustained. She was going to hate this almost as much, if not more, than she hated horseback riding.
Resigned to her fate, Zelda trudged slowly toward the training yard, hoping to be late enough to at least remind everyone that she didn’t want to be there.
Glancing at the sun, she’d determined that she managed to be at least fifteen minutes late. Not bad. She could do worse next time.
The yard was empty of the usual hustle and bustle that went on, and she imagined that her father must have ordered it be kept clear for her private sessions. But it was also clear of an instructor.
She stood in the middle of the training yard and fisted her hands tightly as she looked around. No one. Her eyes narrowed at the empty space, searching for some sign of trickery. But the only others there were the two guards she had brought with her.
“Is this some sort of a joke?” Zelda asked, placing her hands on her hips. “Hello?”
There was no answer.
Shrugging happily to herself, she was ready to leave, but one look at her guards standing near the entrance reminded her of her father’s orders to fetch him if she didn’t go; either she stayed here long enough to prove that she made the attempt, or she’d be embarrassingly dragged back down by her father’s guards, humiliated as they would keep hold of her arms to ensure she followed them right back here. Her father would make sure she was here, no matter what.  
Crossing her arms, Zelda walked around. She rarely went to the training yards unless she was up in the parapets, so being down in the dirt and grass felt like she was in an entirely new world. One she didn’t belong in.
There were training dummies lined up against a wall and a worn dirt track in a wide circle around the outskirts of the otherwise square area. There was a bench. There were weapons on a rack.
And that was it.
She looked at the footprints etched in the dirt, kneeling down to read the story told by the shoe treads. There was a large step forward, and then several overlapping smaller ones as the wearer clearly stumbled back. Then a single skid mark as they were forced back. And then the imprint of a body where they’d fallen.
If Zelda were here under any other circumstances, she’d have smiled and tried to find all the stories in the dirt, but instead, she stood back up and sighed, craning her neck towards the barracks just past the archway. No one was outside, and no one was coming.
“Okay,” she muttered to herself, prepared to leave. But her eye caught on a weapon rack, and she glanced one more time at the barracks before heading to the largest spear. She held it, pretending she was one of her knights. Goddess, if a Yiga came at her, she’d die. Fear first, and then clumsiness, because who could control this glorified stick well enough to kill a Yiga?
She shuddered and put it back.
“You can get there eventually,” someone said.
She spun around to see one of her two guards walking towards her. He removed his helmet, shaking out his blonde hair. Zelda watched in confusion as he set the helmet down on a post and pulled a blue band off his wrist to tie his long hair back.
“But only if you’re not fifteen minutes late on purpose,” he said, not looking up at her. “Princess,” he added with a bow of his head.
Her mouth dropped slightly and her cheeks warmed at the light scolding. “I beg your pardon?” she asked, almost doubting if she’d heard him correctly.
She scoffed at his audacity, recognizing the bright blue eyes of the guard she’d dropped her book on. Did he think that a conversation with her this morning gave a guard the right to chastise her?
He held out his hand, and she instinctively handed the spear back, though in hindsight she wished that she’d hit him with it instead. She’d been too stunned. He returned it to it’s place, and walked across the entirety of the training yard without so much as looking at her.
Her feet tumbled after him as she mentally and physically struggled to keep up. What was happening? Why wasn’t he answering her? Why was he even talking to her? Who was this man?
“Hey!” she finally called. He stopped and turned.
That’s when he looked up for the first time, his downcast blue eyes lifting off the dirt and settling on her green ones.
Pride swelled in her when she saw them waver, because clearly her voice had rattled him in some way. He clearly didn’t like looking her in the eye either. His eyes kept darting off of hers, and he had to keep forcing them back. Her own eyes narrowed, trying to understand this guard. “Who are you?”
“Your instructor.” 
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