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laenordeservedbetter · 1 year

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the demon i cling to

Words: 8.1k

Pairing: Samantha Carpenter x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: You couldn’t escape madness no matter how hard you try, but maybe there’s a way where you don’t have to lose your mind alone.

Warnings: (18+) violence, murder, blood, gore, mentions of substance abuse, cussing (+ reader is morally grey!! she's complicated and unhinged.) lmk if I missed any.

A/N: I finally wrote something after three months and it's 8k words of word vomit, making this my longest fic ever. Again, it's been three months of not writing, so please be nice.

not my gif. || masterlist || previous work

[September 2005]

There can only be a certain amount of restraint one can have before they snap.

You discovered that at a young age. You can’t put the entirety of the blame on growing up in Woodsboro, but it is most likely one of several reasons. The murders have been looming over the town since you’ve been born. Woodsboro, the city where Billy Loomis and Stu Macher went bonkers (that’s a kinder way to put it). Even though there hasn’t been another set of killings since that year in this town, there’s still a good amount of trepidation whenever it gets brought up.

According to your parents, Billy and Stu were like all the other normal kids.

Until they weren’t.

“It’s not something you should worry about, Y/n.” Your mother told you during the thousandth time you brought it up. When you try to say something in protest, she’d shut you down. You were a weird kid, your teachers say so. Attentive, sure, but maybe a little too much.

It wasn’t until the Jenny Willoughby incident that your parents started to suspect that everyone was right about you.

You were in a playground with the kids from your class as an activity to get to know each other. It was pointless, you thought. Everyone already knew each other from the previous years. There are already friend groups and bestfriends. And why did you have to be outside anyway? The classroom has enough space.

You kicked the rocks in front of you to see how far they can go, quite enjoying yourself before one of the rocks hit Jenny’s scrawny leg.

“Ow! Mrs. Bishop, she hit me! Y/n hit me!” She wailed, clutching her foot. Jenny looked like a kangaroo hopping around with one leg while the other was injured. You found it quite funny and laughed without a care in the world, which your teacher didn’t appreciate.

Mrs. Bishop looked at you through her glasses, “Why did you do that, Y/n?” She asked, frowning.

You liked Mrs. Bishop. She was nice. She always gave you extra time to nap and she was patient with you unlike the other teachers. So, seeing her look disappointed made you feel ashamed of yourself. You had let her down. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Bishop.” You mumbled.

“It’s not me you should be apologizing to.” Mrs. Bishop told you, nodding her head in Jenny’s direction.

“I know.” You pursed your lips, taking the courage to walk up to Jenny and apologize. Bowing your head, you say, “I’m sorry for hurting you, Jenny. I swear I didn’t mean to. I didn’t see you, so I-”

“It’s okay. I forgive you.” Suddenly, she sounded cheerful.

What?

You never understood how people can go from sad to happy in a matter of seconds. Analyzing Jenny’s face, you saw that her smile didn’t reach her ears. She is giving you the same smile she gave Samantha Carpenter when the girl accidentally took her bag that had the same color as hers. That smile sets an unsettling feeling in the pit of your stomach. Something is wrong, you know it, but you say nothing else except “Thank you. Again, I’m really sorry.”

And there was that.

You went back to your original position. Instead of kicking the rocks, you opted for counting the flowers in the bushes.

“Children, please behave yourselves! I’m going back inside the school for a few minutes because I need to use the restroom!” Announced Mrs. Bishop.

Too busy admiring the flowers, you failed to comprehend Jenny settling beside you with her group of friends. “Look at her. She’s such a freak. All alone with no friends. No wonder why she hurt me. She just wants something interesting to happen in her life.” Jenny sneered, acting like you weren’t next to her.

Kris, her equally evil twin, chuckled, “It runs in the family. Her parents are freaks too.”

At that, you recoiled. “Leave me alone, Jenny. I already said I’m sorry. Don’t bring my family into this.”

“Or else what? You’re gonna hurt me with a rock again?” Jenny taunted, showing off the gap in her two front teeth. She took a step closer to you while you stayed put. “Oh, I’m real scared of you, alright. Oh, no, she’s gonna murder me! Help!” She mocked, placing the palm of her hand against her forehead as if to show distress.

Shut up.

“Don’t be silly, Jen. She doesn’t have the guts to do it.”

“You’re right. She doesn’t. That doesn’t make her any less of a freak, though.”

Shut up.

“Speak, you freak!” Jenny shoved your shoulder as hard as she could, sending you tumbling backwards. Her figure stood over you, satisfied by the results of her actions. Bullies like Jenny thrive off of fear. They want to make you feel small so that they can feel better about themselves. Be the bigger person, adults say. Don’t give in.

“Go away.” You mutter, clenching your fists tightly as your palms begin to sweat.

“Why should I? Bullies need to be taught a lesson. Isn’t that right, girls?”

Shut up.

You close your eyes.

Shut up.

“Father said her family is full of losers. She’s one of them.”

SHUT UP.

“He’s right, you know.”

Your sprung to your feet, your fist colliding with Jenny’s face. Her sister and friends let out a scream of terror as you hit her. Over and over and over again. “SHUT UP!” Punch. “SHUT UP!” Punch. “SHUT UP! SHUT UP! SHUT UP!” She wouldn’t stop talking (the excuse you would give later on). I just wanted her to be quiet. Your knuckles were starting to turn red, you notice, and your entire fist was coated with blood that wasn’t yours. That’s what urged you on. The satisfying sound as your hand collided with Jenny’s face.

“Y/N!”

You were about to land another blow when four strong hands pulled you back.

You don’t remember what happens next.

“SHE BEAT SOMEONE UP!”

“She’s just a kid! Kids make mistakes!”

”THAT WASN’T A MISTAKE. THAT WAS ASSAULT!”

Your parents were in the room next to yours, arguing about what happened. Jenny was sent to the hospital. Fortunately, there wasn’t any permanent damage. Jenny’s parents wanted you expelled, but your father made a bargain to the principal. What kind of bargain, you know not. Just that your mother appeared to be bothered by it.

Eventually, the shouting became unbearable. A part of you felt guilty - not for hurting Jenny but for being the reason your parents are fighting in the first place. You twisted the rusty door handle of your room (your parents should really have it replaced), double checking to see if they heard anything. When the yelling didn’t cease, you took it as a sign that you were free to go.

It’s not the first time you snuck out. The first time you discovered that it was possible was when your parents grounded you because your grades were lower than the year before. They instructed you to stay inside the house. As the curious child you were, you made a careful analysis of every room. That’s how you found out that the backdoor had a faulty handle.

Putting one foot in front of the other, you let your feet lead you to the park a few blocks from your home. You weren’t worried about anybody bothering your moment of solitude. Most of the children have been told by their parents to steer clear from children like you - whatever that means.

Being feared has its perks sometimes.

When you finally arrived at your destination, you were baffled to see Samantha Carpenter on the swing alone. Her long dark hair cascaded down her shoulders in waves, paired with her blue jumper and white shirt. She spotted you approaching and waved, a small smile spreading across her face.

You raised an eyebrow, glancing back behind you, searching for someone else she could be directing the wave to. As you realized there was no one, you were disinclined to wave back. But you did so anyways.

Sam, no longer seated on the swing, came up to you, “Hey.”

“Hi.”

“Heard you kicked Jenny Willoughby’s butt.”

Your lips pursed into a thin line, “That’s none of your business.”

She raised her hands up in surrender, “Hey, I was going to say that it was pretty cool. It’s about time she learned her lesson.” Sam smiled without a care in the world - like what you did was no big deal.

You nod, your mouth unable to release a response to her statement.

Sam caught how tense your shoulders were and seemed to remember one important detail. “Oh. Sorry. I forgot to introduce myself. My name is Sam-”

“Samantha Carpenter. I know.” You shrugged, “You’re pretty hard to ignore.”

“Is that a compliment?”

“It can be.”

“Thanks… Anyway, you can call me Sam for short. All my friends call me Sam. My parents, too. Except when they’re mad at me.” Sam rambled, waving her arms as she spoke each sentence. Then, she took your hand in hers, leading you to the swing that she previously occupied.

You shove your hands into your jean pockets, unsure of what to do.

Sam seems to think two steps ahead based on the way she guided you to sit down. “I’ll push you now. Just lightly. I don’t want to hurt you. Is that okay?”

“I- yeah. Sure.”

True to her word, Sam began to push your body so the swing can move. Each time you go forward and back again, Sam makes sure to place a hand on your back to support you and to literally push you in the right direction. Although you weren’t sure what made Sam Carpenter act like you knew each other your whole life, you felt at ease being the kid that you currently are. Laughing in glee with Sam felt right. When she talks to you, you don’t feel the apprehension that others usually have. You decided right then and there that you were going to be her best friend.

[June 2010]

Sam slumped down beside you, back leaning against the tree you were resting on. Her eyes were red. There were bags under them. It didn’t take you long to realize that she’d been crying.

“Holy shit, what happened to you?! Are you okay?” You hastily take off your headphones, hands planting themselves on Sam’s forearms. Sam hasn’t been seen around town for two weeks. You tried calling. You even went to her house, but got no response except for when Christina told you that they were dealing with family matters and that it isn’t a good time to visit. Now, seeing her like this made you curse yourself for not trying harder to be there for her.

“My dad left.” She said, defeated. “He left because of me. It’s all my fault.” Sam sobbed as you took her in your arms. It was something akin to a chant. Something you knew she made herself believe.

It breaks your heart every time you see her like this. Even if it wasn’t often that the Sam Carpenter broke down in front of you, it doesn’t take away the hurt that it causes you everytime she does. You’re not mad at Sam. You can never be. You’re mad at the world. However, you can’t do anything about it except be there for her when she needs you the most. This is definitely one of those times.

So, you hold her; conveying using your actions that you will always be here for her to lean on when nothing or no one else could. You let her cry in your arms for as long as she needs since that’s what you do for the people you love and because she told you that your arms are the only place she feels safe in. And lastly, you tell her that it’s not her fault. You don’t do it because she wants to hear it. You do it because she needs it. “Sam, it’s not your fault. You hear me? It’s not your fault.”

Sam shakes her head indignantly. “It is. It is m-my fault. Billy Loomis is my father.”

Your blood runs cold at the mention of him. “What?”

“I was looking at my mom’s old diaries to see what kind of cute memories she had with my dad. Then I found out he wasn’t actually my dad at all and that my mom was seeing some other guy, Billy Loomis. He got her pregnant and told dad that it was his . . . When I confronted her about it, screaming, I… didn’t realize that dad was right behind me all along. He didn’t know. That’s why he left. I couldn’t keep my mouth shut. I… Mom is blaming me. So do I.

“There’s more. See, ever since I found out, I’ve been having these visions of Billy, my biological father. He says things and I can’t… I don’t know how to deal with it.” Sam finishes, turning away so as to not meet your eyes, afraid that there might be abhorrence occupying the space in them. The whole world could judge her and she wouldn’t bat an eye. Her only concern is you being a part of that as well. She fears that one day you’ll realize that she’s no longer worth the effort. She can’t lose you too.

The air lingered with words that are yet to be said, but both of you knew that now was not the time nor place.

“What kind of things does he say, Sam?” You ask gently, rubbing circles on her back to soothe her. By now, your white shirt was soaked in Sam’s tears, though you could care less. Sam is more important than a shirt that you could change out of anytime you want.

There’s a long pause before Sam gives a response to your question. “If I tell you, will you run away?”

“Sam, even if you killed someone, I won’t run away. I’ll even help you bury the body. And even then, I’m staying.” You say, instantly regretting your words once Sam visibly flinches. “Shit. Sorry. Bad take. Anyway, my point is, I’ll always be here for you. No matter what. Nothing you say or do will change that.”

Sam looks up at you, then. There’s something that shines in her eyes that you can’t decipher. Trust? Hope, maybe? “He tells me to just go out there and cut some throats.”

“Do you want to?” You ask, not out of judgment, but out of pure curiosity.

“No. God, no.” Sam shakes her head in the negative, face twisting at the thought of herself sending her peers to their graves. “I’m just scared.”

“Of what, exactly?”

“Scared that I’ll end up just like him. I’m scared that one day I’ll snap and I can’t go back.”

You hum, processing the information Sam just gave you.

“Y/n, say something.”

“You want to hear what I think?” You pull Sam away from you gingerly. For a second, fear flashes in her eyes, but it disappears as quickly as it came when you interlock your hand with hers. When you receive the green light from Sam, you look at her and say, “You’re not your father. I know that what you found out scares you, but Sam, I’ve known you for half my life. I know that you don’t want to hurt people unless they hurt the ones you love first. That’s one of the things I- that’s one of the things that makes you different. You have a heart. So, keep it. Fight for yourself and fight as hard as you can so that you don’t become the person you don’t want to be. Also remember that I’ll be here for you every step of the way to support you.”

Sam wipes away the tears from her eyes, chuckling lightheartedly, “You’re amazing, you know that?”

“Oh, I know, alright.” Your mouth opens in mock offense when Sam punches your shoulder. “That hurt!”

“Sorry.” Something in the way she says it tells you she’s not, showing from how her mood switches once more. “What if I can’t fight anymore? What if I go crazy? Will you still be by my side?”

You don’t hesitate to answer. “I always will, Carpenter. You’ll have to literally kill me to pull me away from you. It’s you and me till the end of time. We’ll go crazy together, I promise.”

Sam leans her head on your shoulder, letting out a breath, “Crazy together. Somehow, that’s oddly comforting.”

[October 2014]

The call comes at around 3 am, precisely 10 minutes after you had fallen asleep. You had been up all night studying for an upcoming exam that in all likelihood would determine whether you have a shot at getting out of Woodsboro. Sam would have told you that it was too early, that you at least have one more year to figure things out. That is, if she bothered to be around. The older Carpenter sibling has been pushing you away lately, much to your annoyance. You can’t help someone if they don’t want to be around you. Nevertheless, that doesn’t dissuade you from coming to her rescue every time she gets herself into trouble.

You rub the sleep from your eyes, reaching for your phone from the wooden nightstand. This scene felt rehearsed. That’s understandable, no doubt, if you take in the events like this that took place too many times for you to count. You can recall each time, each cop that called, the reasons for Sam being in jail again without missing a detail. If you try hard enough, you can even name all officers on duty during the ungodly hours of the morning. That’s a clue to how often Sam got sent to the precinct.

You press the green button, accepting the call without looking at the Caller ID. “Hi, Deputy Hicks.” Clearing your throat, you sit up, turning the lamp on.

You hear Judy sigh on the other end of the line.

“Hey, Y/n. It’s about Sam.”

“Always is.” You mumble, already on your way to the front door. Since you fell asleep still wearing your jeans, you only had to put on a sweater before going out. Your parents were still asleep and if they heard you steal the keys to the car and start the engine, they don’t make it known. A part of you had a suspicion that they knew what you do every other night, but they couldn’t be more indifferent. As long as you kept your grades up and maintained your family’s reputation, they will allow you to do whatever you please. It was both a blessing and a curse. “What is she in for this time?”

“She got high and drove while intoxicated, almost running a boy over. Before she could try to escape, the boy’s mother saw her and called the cops.”

You went quiet, having nothing more to say. This was one of the stupidest things that Sam has ever done. You would rather have her defacing school property while under the influence than being so close to putting other’s lives in danger, including her own.

“Does the mother want to press charges?”

“Lucky for Sam, no. They don’t.”

“Okay, thank you, Deputy. I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

Arriving at the precinct in record time, you parked your car to the side and turned off the engine. The officer at the desk barely acknowledged your presence, used to your face showing up. One of these days, you may start joking that the police station has become your second home with the way Sam has been acting.

Deputy Hicks looked up from her paperwork when she saw you, “She’s over there.” She tilts her head to the side in lieu of hello.

You ignore the sympathetic glance she gives, “Thank you, Deputy.”

Sam sits in a chair in the corner of the room, looking up at the ceiling, hands folded above her lap. She’s still affected by the drugs. It’s as plain as her mud-covered shirt. She sees you and beams, “Y/n! You came.”

You try to ignore the fluttering feeling in your stomach when she directs her gaze towards you. You’ve had a crush on Sam for a while now, though, you don’t plan on doing anything about it, fearing that it might compromise your friendship. It’s not a right time for feelings either. The two of you will be off to college in less than two years and as your mother put it, it’s best to not be in a relationship when your future is on the line.

Wait, why are you entertaining the idea of possibly being in a relationship with Sam when it’s very clear that she doesn’t like you back?

“Y/n?” Sam waves her hand in front of your face, snapping you out of your thoughts.

Sam’s in the precinct, you remind yourself, you’re mad. This is not healthy anymore.

“Just get up, Samantha.” You say coolly, urging Sam to go ahead of you.

“Jeez, you look pissed.”

“That’s because I am.”

Sam rolls her eyes, “Okay, sorry.”

You’re starting to not believe the words that come out of her mouth. Even if Sam is sorry, she’s not exactly trying to get better.

Deputy Hicks grabs your arm at the same time you were about to head out with Sam. “Y/n, wait, I need to talk to you.” She sees you look towards Sam and adds, “Alone, please.”

“Go wait in the car.” You stare at Sam directly but you don’t look at her. Her breath hitches and you have to ignore how your heart clenches at the sight of her being crestfallen.

Sam holds her hand out. You gave her a questioning look. “Keys?”

You weigh out your options. On one hand, Sam is still experiencing the effects of the drug she took. On the other, you knew she wouldn’t put her life in danger - okay, well, that’s debatable. Sam is… Sam. She’s not completely irresponsible. You trust her. “Don’t do anything stupid.” You toss the keys, watching as she catches them effortlessly.

Sam lets out a sigh of relief upon seeing that your trust isn’t completely lost. “Got it.”

The moment Sam is out of sight, Deputy Hicks releases the grip she had on your arm, eyes softening after taking in your appearance. You don’t squirm under her gaze, having learned from experience that you don’t look so great when you don’t fix your hair before going out. “Look,” She starts, “You’re a good kid. You get good grades, you stay out of trouble, and I know you care about Sam, but-”

“With all due respect, Deputy, I think you should stop before you say what I think you’re thinking.” Your mood shifts, gaze hardening. When other people think of Sam as nothing more than a delinquent, they tend to make judgments based on what they see. They don’t think about what is really going on. They don’t know her. Deputy Hicks doesn’t like Sam. You know that much. But you’re not gonna let her talk shit about your best friend when she isn’t even aware of the full story.

Deputy Hicks doesn’t heed your advice. She goes on. “She’s trouble, that’s what I’m getting at. You have a bright future ahead of you, Y/n. Don’t let her ruin it.”

“She’s not ruining anything.” You argue.

“I know that you missed a test last week because you had to bail her out. It’s why - and I’m only assuming this - you stayed up all night studying for said test because the school gave you a second chance. I know that you will probably spend the rest of your morning taking care of Sam. You’ll go over to her house, take care of her and her sister Tara because their mother is barely around. I get it, trust me. However, I know how this goes. Trust me when I say that you’re better off without her.”

You don’t think too hard about what the deputy just said. “I know myself better than you know me. I’m not going to stay away from her because you said so. You’re not my mother.”

Deputy Hicks runs a hand across her face, knowing that she wasn’t going to get through to you. “Maybe not. But I am a mother. I know I wouldn’t let my kid go around like this.”

“Goodbye, Deputy.” You dismiss, turning to walk out the door with nothing more to say. Deep down, you knew she was right. You didn’t want to acknowledge it, though.

“If you find out who gave her the drugs, will you give us a call?” The deputy asks, changing the subject.

Your body goes stiff when the feeling of rage wakes the part in you that you so carefully hid from the world. It’s here again, stronger than ever. The blood in your body is boiling with anger, that urge to hurt someone in order to make it all quiet. You haven’t felt like this in a while.

Breathe.

In.

Out.

“Will do.” You plaster a fake smile. Needing to get out of this place as soon as you can, you sprint towards your car, opening the door, forgetting that Sam is inside. Ragged breaths come out of your body, throat clenching due to the never-ending thoughts swirling in your fucked up brain.

“Y/n?”

“SHIT!” You get startled by Sam’s voice.

“Hey, it’s okay, I’m okay.” She reassures, right hand resting on your shoulder. “Look at me.” When you don’t do what she says, Sam takes on a firmer tone. “Y/n, look at me. Listen to my voice.”

Her voice is soothing to your ears, driving away that anger; a remedy to whatever is happening inside your head. “Sam,” Your voice breaks when you say her name. “You can’t keep doing this. You have to talk to me instead of getting your hands on every stupid drug that ever existed. If you don’t want to explain it to me, then at least talk to someone. Please, Sam. You have to help yourself. There’s only so much I can manage and… I don’t want to do something I can’t take back.” Murder. The thing that’s left unsaid. You don’t want to have to murder the people causing this, but if it will help Sam, then…

Fuck. No.

You’ve thought about it for sure. You just never got to a point where you are actually considering doing the act.

Sam’s brows furrow, “You’re scared of saying shit to me? Is that what you mean? You don’t have to clean up my messes all the damn time. I’m not making you do this.”

“Sam, that’s not what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean?”

“I meant that I don’t want to be the person who tells Tara her sister is gone because she did something she shouldn’t have,” You lie. If you can’t make her understand things in your perspective, maybe bringing up Tara will make a difference. “Tara will be heartbroken, Sam. She doesn’t want to lose you too.”

That part is true. You spoke to Tara a few nights back when you saw her curled up on the living room couch, waiting for Sam to come home. After you guided Sam to her bedroom, you went downstairs to check on Tara, asking her what she was doing up. She told you everything she knew and felt, including how worried she was about Sam. It is not something a ten-year-old should have to feel, but then again, she can’t know why this is happening. She’s too young to understand.

Sam glances down, looking remorseful. What you said made her partially aware of how this was also affecting Tara. “I’m sorry.”

“Do better. That’s all I’m asking you. Promise me you’ll try.”

“I am trying. You have to know. I am doing better.”

“And what happened today was, what, a mistake? You say the same speech whenever you get caught. I’ll believe you when I see that you’ve actually been trying, because this? This is not what trying looks like.” The way you speak sounds harsher than intended. You should really listen to what your guidance councilor says. Bottling up your feelings will only make things worse. Word by word exits your mouth like a flood that you feel powerless against. Tears stream down Sam’s face as soon as her brain echoes what you were saying.

You were never this upset at her. Hearing you like this guided her in realizing how royally she fucked things up.

“I’m sorry.”

You can’t fight your own tears anymore. The two of you cry in front of each other, aware that although you were physically near, you could not be more far apart. You cry until there are no tears left, cry until your throat is aching and your heart feels like it has been sliced a thousand times by tiny daggers, leaving wounds that would take a long time to heal.

But it feels like a step in the right direction. Somehow, you knew you both were going to be okay.

You held that thought until Sam explained what went down last night.

“I swear I was going to get clean. But then, he approached me, said that he needed money. He didn’t look well, so I took the drugs. He said I didn’t have to take them - that I can throw them away and that he’ll pay me back as soon as he can, but I wanted it. The drugs. They were right in front of me. So, I told myself that it was going to be the last time. I was only fooling myself.” Sam said. “That’s not going to happen again. I’ll get help. For real this time. I promise.”

You stare at the roof of the car, closing your eyes in order to think clearly. “Sam,” You say nonchalantly compared to the tone you used earlier. “Give me a name.”

Sam’s eyes widen, “What?”

“Give me the name of the guy who gave you the drugs.”

She chuckles awkwardly, “Why does it matter? What are you going to do to him?”

“Nothing! I don’t kill people. You know that! I just want to turn him in, is all.” You were stunned by how convincing you sounded.

Sam seemed to believe you. Her shoulders relaxed a bit, the tension in them gone, “Jacob Parker.” She pauses, “Don’t let the cops be too harsh on him. He’s only trying to help his family.”

You purse your lips, “You know I can’t promise anything, Sam.” Sam appears despondent but she doesn’t speak another word. “So… Jacob Parker.” You repeat, testing how the name sounded coming from your mouth. “Thank you.”

Your smile is alarming. “You look psychotic.” Sam says plainly, shaking her head. “Stop that. It’s creepy.”

You put your hands up in surrender, “My apologies.”

“Get us home already.”

You don’t make a move to start driving, deciding to talk to Sam longer. “We’re not done with this conversation yet.”

“I know.”

“We still have a lot to work on.”

“I know.”

“But you’re going to be okay.”

“We’re going to be okay.” Sam corrects. “You and me against the world, right?”

“Damn right.”

You let silence go by on the way to the Carpenters’ residence. The air is lighter now, relieved of the tension that was around before your conversation with Sam. You were pleased by the outcome of this day, no matter how early it still is.

You shouldn’t.

You really shouldn’t.

If someone had told you two years ago that you’d be outside Jacob Parker’s house wearing a Ghostface costume, you would have shit your pants while laughing maniacally, but you’re here, doing exactly that.

It’s 4 am, which means that the sun will come up soon, giving you an hour to get the job done or else it will all be fucked and you’d have gone through trouble for nothing.

The house itself was pretty neat. It had a white picket fence and a yard three times bigger than your room. Sam was wrong. Jacob has it good. That motherfucker lied to her. You can’t blame Sam for having a kind heart. She got taken advantage of. That’s not on her. It’s on the guy who saw her vulnerability and turned it into a business opportunity.

Your disdain takes over whatever ounce of hesitation left within you. You have to do this. You have to protect Sam. You’re doing this for her. This is the only way you can protect her.

Plucking out a burner phone from your pocket, you dial Jacob’s number, the one you asked Sam for prior to leaving her house. You turn on your voice changer and press the call button, waiting for Jacob to pick up his phone.

It took three rings, but eventually, the boy answered, a bit disoriented, “Hello?”

“Hello, Jacob.”

You can hear Jacob shuffling around, dazed. “Who is this?”

“Let’s play a game, shall we? I give you ten seconds to hide and if I find you, I’ll gut you like a fish.” You say cheerily, moving towards the house. The back door is the most favorable option, seeing that it wasn’t locked. Idiot, you thought. There’s no car parked in the garage or in front of the house, which implies that his parents aren’t home. Is it this easy?

“Look, I don’t know who you are or why you’re having the Ghostface voice, but that’s not how they usually speak in the movies. They don’t play hide and seek.”

You’re positive he can see you smiling through your words even if you’re not in front of him, “Ah. A fan of slashers, I see . . . What’s your favorite scary movie, Jacob?”

“There. Now you got it.”

His breathing is too relaxed, indicating that he’s not moving, possibly not counting you as a threat. You slide open the door as quietly as you can, ambling through the stairway leading up to the second floor. Jacob’s room is very hard to miss. There’s a big sign on the wooden door that spells out his name in bold, cursive letters. Your eyes scan through details of this place, looking for one you can use to scare him.

A picture frame on the counter with him and a little boy. He has a brother. You remember, overhearing a gossip from school that his brother was sick. There’s a rumor that went around about how that is the reason why he’s selling drugs. His family is loaded, so it can’t be about money. It’s about finding a distraction.

You read the writing on top of the frame.

“Jacob and Barry”

That’s the same moment you notice another door next to Jacob’s room.

Bartholomew.

You walk over there first, peeking inside the room. On a bed lays Barry, wires hooked into his body, a machine next to him, displaying his heartbeat. You almost feel bad about what you’re going to do.

Almost.

“Give me an answer or else I’ll cut Barry’s head off! You wouldn’t mind if a few years gets removed from his lifespan, right? After all, he’s already sick. Might as well stop his suffering.”

“NO!” You hear hurried footsteps coming from the other room, no doubt that it’s Jacob on his way to save his little brother from his own end, not knowing that it secured his. “Don’t touch him, I swear to God! You better not! I’ll do anything, please!”

“I’ll ask again. What is your favorite scary movie?”

“STAB 5! THERE! I SAID IT! NOW LEAVE HIM ALONE!”

As soon as he steps out of the room, you shove him against the wall and plunge your knife into his stomach, twisting it until the blood begins to pour out. You use your free hand to cover his mouth, muffling his screams. “Stab 5 was the worst movie of the entire franchise! It’s no one’s favorite!” You pull out your knife for a moment before driving it into his shoulder.

You glance at the blood on your hands in awe. It was a dream come true. You could not apprehend how so much blood can reside in one body, taking your time in watching Jacob bleed out in front of you, the voice in your head quiet at long last. The rapture followed. He can’t hurt Sam anymore. “This is what losers such as yourself get.” You state, withdrawing your hand from his mouth.

Jacob’s eyes are silently pleading. “I don’t know what I did to deserve this, but Barry is innocent. Don’t hurt him. You owe me that. He’s my family.”

“I don’t owe you shit!” You laugh incredulously, “No one owes you anything! I don’t give a shit about your family. You messed with mine first.”

“W-what?”

You don’t give him a response, perforating his heart with your blade.

His head lolls to the side, staring at nothing in particular.

That’s one less person who can hurt Sam.

The thrill of the kill sticks with you long after you went home to clean yourself up, ensuring that you left no trace behind. You got rid of the body, of course, so the police doesn’t suspect that another psychopathic Ghostface is on the lose.

You’d do anything to protect Sam.

It’s all for her.

Unbeknownst to you, Sam saw the full extent of what you were capable of doing - adding another name to her list of fucked up connections.

[May 2015]

“It’s not gonna work, Sam.” The ghost or hallucination (depending on who you’re asking) of Billy Loomis states, standing behind Sam, their eyes locking in the bathroom mirror. He has a calm exterior, as if he knows what’s about to happen to Sam before the latter can begin to think. “You can’t avoid her forever. She killed someone. Acknowledge it.”

Sam opens a bottle, taking out an antipsychotic pill, shoving it into her mouth without hesitation. “I have acknowledged it. She killed the guy who gave me drugs.”

Billy shoots her a no-nonsense stare, “That’s not what I’m talking about.”

“Okay, then speak to me since you’re such a know-it-all.” Sam clenches her fists, “You’re not even real.”

“Aren’t I?” Billy challenges. “Wanna hear the truth, Samantha? Here it is: the murder is not what bothers you. What bothers you is the fact that it doesn’t. You would care if it was an innocent person, but Jacob wasn’t an innocent. He manipulated you, knowing damn well you have a problem. You feel relief that he’s dead, but you’re guilty because you think that his blood is on your hands, thinking that you’re the reason Y/n did what she did. You don’t want to destroy her.”

Sam’s throat clenches, knowing Billy was right. However, that doesn’t mean she’s happy about it. “Shut up.”

“You’re the one who wanted the truth. I’m giving it to you.” Just when Sam thinks he’s done talking, he goes on, similar to a man on a rampage (which he has really done before he died). “You did not corrupt her. It is not your fault. That girl you’re in love with - oh, don’t give me that look - has had a darkness inside her that existed before you came into her life. The same darkness that you and I have; the only difference being that she’s not doing it out of revenge like I did. She does it for you, which makes it difficult for you to understand your feelings because you believe that if you accept her for who she is, you will go crazy. That maybe she’ll convince you to kill for her or something. She won’t. You know that. You are just afraid.

“Crazy runs in our blood. One day you are gonna stop fighting and accept who you are. The only choice that is presented to you right now is you either accept her for who she is or push her away.”

“You say that as if murder is something simple.” Sam scoffs.

“You will forever have an argument against the things I say because I’m a murderer. That’s who I am to you. But what do you truly believe, Sam?”

Sam (surprisingly) simply shrugs defeatedly, “I don’t know.”

“Well, figure it out. Must I remind you that she’s leaving. Today.”

At the mention of your departure, Sam shows her father an emotion other than ire. “That’s today?” She blinks and sees that Billy was no longer there. Quickly, she checks her phone and see what the date says. “Fuck.” She grumbles, rushing out the house like lightning.

You look out your window for the umpteenth time, hoping that somehow, she will show up. The last time you spoke was three weeks ago. It’s like she’s purposely pulling away from you and you have no idea why. Though Sam was true to her word and stopped getting herself into trouble, she decided to talk to everyone but you. You gave her space while you thought about what you could have done wrong. When you bumped into her at school (which was unexpected since she has been doing a good job at using alternative routes to her classes just to avoid you), you told her you were leaving.

You got accepted at NYU and were leaving earlier than expected. New York is about as far from Woodsboro as you can get. You can’t wait to leave this place yet there is someone you don’t want to leave behind. You don’t want to leave Sam, but you know that eventually, everyone leaves. You would only be putting off the inevitable.

As for the Jacob situation, the cops never found out who did it. They assumed he ran away (you grabbed a suitcase with you that belonged to him and put clothes and essentials into it). That was all. Cased closed. Simple as that.

You don’t feel an ounce of remorse. Even so, from time to time, you get nightmares. You don’t remember much from them. The only things you know is that you wake up sweating, your heart racing, and tears stream down your face at the same time a name makes its way out your mouth, sounding like a prayer. Sam.

“She’s not coming.” Your mother says sympathetically.

You forgot she was standing near the doorway, watching you pack your things. “She will.” You’re sure. Sam was many things, but time showed that even if she was upset at you, she would still show up for the events that matter. And this, moving to New York, was a big change. She wouldn’t dare miss it. “I know she will.” You say, determined.

“Okay.” Your mother nods. She opens her mouth to speak, but Sam appears by the doorway, sweat dripping from her forehead, both hands on her knees as she caught her breath. “I stand corrected.” M/n grins, “Sam.”

“Good morning, Mrs. L/n.” Sam breathes out, chest rising and falling rapidly.

“I’ll leave you two alone for a moment.” M/n lightly shoves Sam inside the room so that she can close the door.

“Did you run here?” You asked, amused. Walking over to your nightstand, you grabbed an unopened water bottle and handed it to Sam, who downed the drink in one gulp.

“Sure did.” Sam wipes her sweat with the back of her hand. She sits next to you on the bed, shuffling her fingers, something you knew she does whenever she gets anxious. “I’m sorry for avoiding you these last few months…” It’s because I followed you to Jacob’s house without you knowing and I saw you kill him for me.

One look at her and you knew she knew. The one thing you’re good at other than stabbing is reading Samantha Carpenter. You’ve spent so much time memorizing her that you knew immediately. You don’t know what to say except “It’s not your fault, Sam. Please know that. It was my choice. You didn’t force me to do it.”

“Why did you?” Sam asks, unsurprised by how quickly you caught on. She didn’t make a move to step away from you because she wasn’t afraid. She never was. That never changed.

“You probably don’t understand, but there’s this… thing that has always been a part of me. I could control it most times but when I can’t, I hurt people. There’s so much noise going on in my head. The two things that can pull me out of that is by inflicting pain onto others or just being in your presence. I know it’s fucked up. I would much rather choose the latter every time, but I can’t. When Deputy Hicks asked me to give her a call if I found out who sold you the drugs, that anger came back. Maybe it never left. I don’t know. I did what I did because I thought that if he’s not there anymore, nothing can hurt you again. It’s stupid. I know. I’m sorry.”

Sam does the last thing you expected her to do. She kisses you, her hands going to the sides of your face, cupping them gently, afraid that you would break.

You freeze, unable to form a response.

What the fuck?

Sam kissed you.

You grin from ear to ear, surprised by the action, but not deeming it unwelcome.

Sam pulls away, mortified, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I thought you-”

You cut her off, “Shut up and kiss me again.”

She wastes no time in closing the gap, reconnecting your lips once more. Your hands went to her waist, needing her to be as close to you as possible. This time, you kiss her back passionately. You’ve had many roles in your life, but nothing felt as right as being the one to kiss Sam Carpenter. You were made for her.

Sooner than what you wanted, Sam pulled away. You open your mouth to protest but she presses a finger to your lips. “If we don’t stop kissing, we’ll run out of air.”

You scrunch your nose, “I don’t know, Carpenter. Dying in your arms doesn’t sound too bad.”

Sam shakes her head fondly, “God, you’re such a dork.”

“You like me, though, right?” You asked jokingly even though deep down, you were quite unsure.

“Yes, of course I like you.”

“I like you too.” You say immediately, satisfied with the answer.

After a while of kissing and… more kissing, you lay beside each other, doing nothing in particular except staring at the ceiling. You break the silence. “So what now?”

Sam ponders the question, “Now… You go to New York.”

You roll over to the side, propped up on one elbow, using your free hand to brush hair away from her face. “What about us?”

“We’ll see each other again.” She asserts, placing a kiss on top of your head.

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because I do understand. More than anyone.”

She rolls you over on your back in a mission to kiss you for as long as time allows it. Caught up in the moment, you fail to question what her words meant. Your mind fills with thoughts that consist of how perfect this moment feels. There was noise, yes, but they lie in the form of the most beauteous poems. Samantha Carpenter gives you clarity yet she is capable of bringing you down to ruins. The best part is that you’d let her. You would authorize her to bring out a sentence; to amplify the light inside of you or to let the madness consume you both. Regardless of the outcome, you would not mourn the debris that would rain down upon you. For the sweetest poison is in the form of her lips.

[August 2022]

You were scanning mountains of paperwork when your phone buzzes. Although normally, you would let it ring until whoever is calling realizes that you are occupied, the name that flashes on the screen makes you think twice. Pressing the green button to accept the call, you bring the phone to your ear, anticipation bubbling inside your veins.

The voice that comes from the device is not the one you were hoping to hear. It sounds eerie, sending a creep up your spine.

“What’s your favorite scary movie?”

[The End.]

Taglist: @daddy-jareau

#sam carpenter x reader #sam carpenter #samantha carpenter #melissa barrera #scream 6 #scream vi #scream franchise #scream

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faithst · 8 days

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⌞ MATCHED ⌝

ᡣ𐭩 •｡୨ৎ ˚ SYNOPSIS; caught in the relentless pursuit of her academic and career goals, yn’s social life takes a backseat, prompting concern from her best friend who advocates ‘living while you’re young’. she receives a text, finding herself wrapped in the new dating program that had been spreading like wildfire in campus. the more she indulges in these new connections, she begins to question her priorities.

wc 0.9k

05 primary colour

You were unsure of what to expect—anxious about this being your first date ever and also the fact that it was at the beach. You always had an uneasy feeling about the ocean after you nearly drowned when you were five, and ever since, you never liked beaches. But today, you had to kill two birds with one stone.

The night before, you couldn’t shut your eyes without being washed over with worry. Yes, you could've asked Taerae to pick another spot, but there was also the guilt of changing it last minute, so you didn’t. You tossed and turned the whole night, eventually flopping face-down onto the pillow, groaning. The night went by quicker than expected; it was about time for you to head out and meet Taerae for the first time. You didn’t know much about him, other than the fact he could sing—just knew you were in for a real treat.

The sun was already high in the sky as you made your way to the meeting point, the heat making the sand almost unbearable to walk on. You clutched your bag tightly, the nervousness creeping back with each step closer to the ocean. The salty breeze and the sound of waves crashing against the shore didn't provide the comfort it usually did for most people; instead, it heightened your anxiety.

Spotting Taerae was easy—he stood out with his bright, cheerful demeanor and bright red shirt, waving his guitar enthusiastically in the air as soon as he saw you. His smile was infectious, dimple visibly showing, and you couldn’t help but feel a small sense of relief.

"Hey!" he called out, walking up to you. "So glad you made it! I was a bit worried about you."

You forced a smile, trying to hide your nerves. "Are we not gonna talk about the guitar?" He smiled sheepishly. “I just thought you would’ve seen me better.”

You found his excuse amusing and somehow relieving. The worried expressions left your face as you broke into a few laughs. “I think I’ll enjoy today more than I thought.”

Taerae’s eyes sparkled with excitement. "Great! I have a whole day planned out. I know the beach can be overwhelming, but I promise it'll be fun."

He led you along the shoreline, pointing out different things as you walked. The beach was bustling with activity—children building sandcastles, surfers riding the waves, and couples strolling hand in hand. Taerae seemed to know the perfect spots, guiding you to a quieter area where you could sit on some rocks and watch the waves without feeling overwhelmed.

The moment was serene, you felt yourself loosen up as the both of you sat in silence. You dipped your feet into the water, feeling the waves gently crash against them. Taerae felt a sense of accomplishment from that, subtly smiling.

As the day went on, Taerae’s warm and genuine personality began to put you at ease. He told stories that made you laugh, sang a few songs that showcased his talent, and even convinced you to sit close to the waters. His presence was reassuring, and slowly, the fear that had gripped you since childhood began to loosen its hold. The two of you strolled along the shoreline, talking about everything and nothing, and Taerae's easygoing nature made you feel more comfortable than you had expected.

You found yourself getting lost in conversation, forgetting the anxiety that had plagued you. “Hey, come here.” He spoke up, signaling you to walk towards him. You hesitantly walked across the sinking sand, squinting your eyes as the rays of sunshine laid onto your face. “You don’t like the water, right? So, let’s enjoy the sand.”

You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion, a question mark hovering above your head as he chuckled at your reaction. He squatted, grabbing a nearby stick. “Look,” he said, before drawing a whimsical creature in the sand. “What do you think?” He tilted his head back up to you.

There was something about the way the sun shone across his skin, melting into one another as if it favored him dearly. His eyes were squinted slightly due to it.

“It looks funny,” you replied, grinning at his reaction. He frowned, with a slight pout—the image of him lathered your heart with warmth. “Here, why don’t you try?” He lent out his hand towards you.

You placed yours on top of his as he guided you down to his level, capturing a brief glimpse of the stars in his eyes. Though the sun was still high in the sky, his eyes were brighter than it’d ever be.

You and Taerae spent the day drawing in the sand, sparking out laughs every once in a while as he judged your whimsical art. Taerae had managed to make you feel safe and happy, turning what you thought would be a dreadful experience into a cherished memory.

As you both walked back along the beach, the cool evening air setting in, Taerae turned to you, his smile softer now. "Thank you for trusting me today. I know it wasn't easy for you."

You smiled back, feeling a warmth spread through you that was different from the sun’s heat. "Thank you for making it so easy."

ᡣ𐭩 •｡୨ৎ ˚ (open, comment or shoot an ask to be added) @nanadreamies @you-make-skz-stay @sayescomfortplace @whokilledyuyan @infinitehaos @xiaoquanquans @gugggu6gvai @wheatrice @honeywonuu @renjuneoo @rikibun @wonkixo @interweab

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celaenaeiln · 9 months

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Heck speaking of that last ask, whose to say even for Dick’s more professional and cordial moments with those outside his family or closest allies, whose to say those aren’t a front to mask his more serious and strategic cunning to through those other people off guard if they’re suspected of doing bad?

I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU ASKED THAT BECAUSE YOU'RE SPOT ON!!!!

This actually happens in canon but this time it's within the family.

In Batman and Robin Eternal the whole Batfamily is forced to a clean up a lethal mess that Bruce wasn't able to solve during his and Dick's days. Their opponent is a woman named "Mother" for which she is aptly named because her brilliance and manipulation were so high that Bruce was forced to admit defeat, unable to deal with her.

During the investigation, the rest of the batfamily is blissfully unaware of Tim's actions, histories, and secrets-except Dick.

While leaving the rest of the family in the dark to avoid raising suspicions, he goes to get some answers.

Of course he would never betray his family's trust without some evidence.

While Jason and Stephanie are busy yelling at each other, Tim quietly sneaks away to answer a call by "Mother." Dick is at the Drake's while this is happening thus indicating that both Dick and Tim have their own share of secrets and battle plans.

He asks questions about Tim to his parents as if he's never met Tim before. Someone should get this man an Oscar.

Of course everything goes to hell when an operative of Mother's shows up and starts firing at Dick. Tim's mom utters a codeword that isolates her and Jack and also notifies Tim. Dick neutralizes his opponent.

And then Tim shows up.

"It's your secrets, Tim. I respected your privacy. Never looked too close, until that became a luxury I couldn't afford...I thought you weren't one of Mother's children. Hoped you weren't. But I had to know."

While Tim is rightfully hurt, but the thing is-they can't trust anyone right now because Mother, their enemy, is inseparable from the batfamily. She gets into people's heads and uses them as operatives over their entire lifetimes from childhood to adulthood. And first and foremost, Dick is a detective. It's ingrained into him to identify any threat and act accordingly.

This scene is extremely important because Bruce was almost killed by Mother and Dick loves Bruce. For his part Bruce almost killed their world just so Dick could live and reversely, Dick would do anything to make sure Bruce was safe.

But here's where Dick's manipulation and cheerful demeanor come into play. The batfamily has no idea how good Dick is at manipulating people.

When Dick runs off to do this, they only say

They have no idea.

Dick never does anything without a plan, a backup, and a safety net. The only mistake in their understanding is that while they think that Dick looks for a safety net second, they don't know that Dick's already created his own net and the one they see is the one Dick tossed out to his allies when he needs them to catch him.

Even now, Tim only found out because his mom activated the alarms in his house. If Dick's enemy hadn't blasted in and opened fire at him then it's suffice to say that everyone would be none the wiser about his little side quest.

I don't think the batfamily will ever realize how cunning he is. They see him as a kind older brother who is too adherent to Bruce's rules. Afterwards Jason makes fun of Tim in an older brother way by implying if he's mad at his mommy lol.

The DC vs Vampires and why every single member of the family was blindsided was because they underestimated him and never expected it of him. That's how good of a manipulator Dick is and that is why they will never know.

Tim once said Dick was "ranting and raving" in Arkham during Future State but for someone who had supposedly lost his mind, he still was the reason they defeated the government and came out on top. Future State: Nightwing is a peak example of Dick's genius when it comes to controlling people even if it seems like lunacy from the outside.

Everyone sees him as the nice one and Dick is the nice one of the family but when his family's life comes into danger he will unearth any secrets that he let you have in order to keep them safe.

So basically he'll let you do anything: keep secrets, lie to him, ignore him, but if you endanger his family he is coming for you because as the song lyrics goes-

"I may be next to you but you don't know I'm undercover."

And that is what makes his character so excellent. The greatest spy and threat the good has ever had.

This is my favorite personality trait of his because he's the James Bond and Mata Hari of DC.

#everyone wants a piece of him but they will never know him #asks #manipulative dick grayson #cl paladin of nerd fandom65 asks #cl asks #thanks for the ask!

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haveyouseenthisskeleton · 1 month

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Underswap Sans & Papyrus character sheets (Updated version)

BLUE (Underswap Sans)

Backstory: Blue grew up happy and lacking nothing until his parents tragically died in a Core accident, leaving him to take care of his six-year-old brother all by himself at only fifteen. Hard worker, he still accepted the challenge, finding new creative ways to gain money, not all of them legal, but at the cost of his relationship with his brother. Blue never wanted to be a parent figure for Honey, and got overwhelmed quickly, which led his brother to meet the wrong people and, eventually, to be addicted to alcohol and cigarettes. Blue still feels guilty about this, even though Honey never considered him responsible, and it deeply affected his relationship with children. He doesn't want to be a father ever again, he's not good for it, and he doesn't want to be responsible for someone else again. Unfortunately, fate laughed at his face and threw Chara on the road. It didn't go well. Chara reset a lot of times, toying with the brothers and trying to manipulate them against each other, which Blue quickly understood. Most of the time though, he didn't have the opportunity to warn his brother since Chara killed him first… He knows that because he read it in a notebook Honey managed to save it from timeline to timeline. That's also in this notebook he realized Honey is actually really not doing well. The brothers managed to get out of there eventually, but they never forgave Chara. They don't remember what happened between timelines, but that notebook is kinda their guarantee Chara won't come and mess up their relationship again. On the surface, Blue engaged as the first monster police officer, with Alphys' approval, who continued to train him. It was a rough start though as the police officers really didn't want monsters around at first. But his energy and friendly face eventually won them over. He's trying to reach high ranks in the police hierarchy now.

Personality: Accessible - Active - Athletic - Caring - Challenging - Charismatic - Cheerful - Confident - Conscientious - Courageous - Creative - Curious - Daring - Dedicated - Dynamic - Efficient - Faithful - Friendly - Hardworking - Helpful - Heroic - Honest - Independent - Leaderly - Very loyal - Objective - Perfectionist - Playful - Protective - Reliable - Spontaneous - Ambitious - Competitive - Moralistic - Proud - Stubborn - Argumentative - Arogant - Fiery - Impulsive - Pretentious - Resentful - Research of adrenaline - Tendencies to put himself in danger - Hyperactive

Job: Police officer

Hobbies: All sorts of sports, hanging out with his friends, working for the Queen, solving neighborhood problems, trapping the house so Honey stops emptying the fridge during the nights.

Loves: Running, screaming, being loud, puzzles, his brother, competing with Alphys, promotions, people giving him high responsibilities, when people come to him to find ideas of fun activities to do, bitching on Karens, sweets, sugary foods, well-thought puns and jokes, messing with his brother's romantic life, gossiping with Toriel, driving BIG cars, drama movies.

Hates: Sitting for more than ten minutes, people who baby him, being in charge of children, Honey asking him to buy something when he's ten meters away from home and had the entire day to ask him, the office printer, pigs and all their relatives, having to chase criminals in dirty places, people picking him up because they can't resist his small size, being sick.

The S/O of his dreams: Someone active who can keep up with his energy, which is rare. Someone who is honest and has time to argue with him because he will argue on a lot of subjects.

Dealbreaker: Saying he's a bad father when he clearly said he wasn't feeling comfortable with being a dad, hurting his brother, baby him.

Contacts :

Family: Honey.

Best friends: Papyrus, US Alphys, US Undyne.

Close friends: Sans, UT Toriel, UT Undyne, UT Alphys, Pumpkin, Coffee, Salsa, Ink.

Friends: UT Mettaton, UT Grillby, UT Asriel/Flowey, Oak, Willow, Nugget, Copper, Chief, Nox, Moon, Sun, Rambo, Rumba, Sam, Ben, Delta.

OK/Neutral: UT Asgore, UT Muffet, UT Burgerpants, UT Gerson, Rus, Demon, Error.

Would better avoid: UT Frisk, UT Chara, UT Gaster, Red, Tango, Creeper, Fang, Killer, Dune.

Absolutely hates: Edge, Wine, Torpedo.

________________________________________

HONEY (Underswap Papyrus)

Backstory: Honey doesn't have many memories of his early childhood, he pretty much remembers only losing his parents and then Blue taking care of him the best he could. Unfortunately, fate wasn't nice to Honey as it gave him a hyper empathy that caused him troubles growing up. He cares for others so much that he struggled a lot to see the people he considered his friends during his teenage years were mainly with him because he could be easily manipulated. When he noticed, it was far too late as he fell into the hell of addictions and depression as no one really understood his way of seeing the world. Honey felt terribly lonely all the time he was Underground, to the point he developed tendencies to self-destruction, sabotaging himself because he had no self-confidence. It got worse after Chara fell as he had the brilliant idea to write his thoughts in a notebook he passed to himself through the timelines. It just led him to develop, added to everything, high anxiety that he couldn't get rid of, even after reaching the surface. The first thing he did once out of this hell was to find help for his addictions. His mind got blown the day he discovered what neurodivergent means and since he's slowly learning to understand himself better with his therapist. What really helped him though is finally finding people he could call friends and that actually cares about him. Honey is a very loyal friend and he's one of the most caring people ever, so he makes the best friends. Maybe, after all, all he needed to know was that he mattered all this time. He's doing way better now and discovers life again.

Personality: Benevolent - Caring - Cheerful - Compassionate - Cultured - Discreet - Dramatic - Hyperempathetic - Forgiving - Friendly - Generous - Gentle - Genuine - Honest - Hopeful - Humorous - Idealistic - Kind - Observant - Open - Optimistic - Organized - Patient - Peaceful - Perceptive - Prudent - Reliable - Romantic - Self-critical - Sensitive - Sentimental - Sweet - Tolerant - Trusting - Absentminded - Emotional - Anxious - Demanding - Dependant - Easily discouraged - Fearful (he faints to protect himself from big scares) - Lazy - Procrastinating - Reluctant to do new things - Attached to his routine

Job: Writer.

Hobbies: Art, cosplay, fanfictions, binge-watching movies and TV shows, reading a lot, playing video games, sharing his favorite pieces of media with his friends, making 5k words of theories essays on Tumblr, staying in bed four days in a row.

Loves: Talking about his hobbies, people who show interest in what he likes, DOGS, and PUPPIES, and CUTE ANIMALS, having the inspiration to write, screaming in tags on Tumblr when something excites him, hugs, attraction parks, his little routine, every time he realizes how much he feels better after a therapy session, hanging out with his friends, childish jokes, fake mustaches and glasses, goofing around.

Hates: Loneliness, the bad days he struggles to do anything, the blank page, when his brother argues for nothing, people wanting to drag him in things he didn't plan, going to new places without a warning, random people asking him random things in the street, when he can't listen to music in crowded places, being alone in crowded places, people telling "i will tell you later", phone calls, when Blue turns off the TV after calling him to have dinner twenty times, scary things, jumpscares, people scaring him just to watch him faint.

The S/O of his dreams: Just someone who cares and shows interest in what he likes is enough. Liking to hug for hours is a bonus.

Dealbreaker: Treating his anxiety like a joke, screaming at him for doing nothing when he struggles on bad days and can barely function, manipulate him, using his addictions against him, not being patient with him in general.

Contacts :

Family: Blue.

Best friends: US Undyne, Oak, Coffee, Rus, Ben.

Close friends: Sans, Papyrus, UT Toriel, UT Alphys, US Alphys, Willow, Pumpkin, Sam, Delta.

Friends: UT Undyne, UT Grillby, UT Muffet, Red, Edge, Copper, Chief, Moon, Sun.

OK/Neutral: UT Mettaton, UT Gaster, UT Burgerpants, UT Gerson, Rambo, Salsa, Rumba,

Would better avoid: UT Frisk, UT Chara, UT Asriel/Flowey, Nugget, Nox, Tango, Killer, Demon, Creeper, Fang, Ink, Error, Dune.

Absolutely hates: Wine, Torpedo.

#character sheet #underswap #sans #papyrus #undertale ask blog #undertale imagines #undertale headcanons

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thatdebaterguy · 3 months

Note

Who cares if Starbucks closes they're not going to fuck you because you're a genocidal maniac. Do you cheer every time a living baby gets crushed by an Israeli bulldozer? Do you cheer every time Israelis gang rape a child? They've been doing it for decades nutty yahoo even said he approves it. Yes I'm on anon bc I'm a female and I do not trust your kind. You're such a creep it's not funny. Delete. You're making this site less safe for the women and minors on it.

I actually love the absolute irony of this. Me, criticising Hamas, criticising Afghanistan and the Taliban, who are actively suppressing women and young girls in schools and social roles and job opportunities, and for opposing trans athletes in sports so that women get fair opportunities to compete against each other and to thrive in their respective competitions, is apparently now making this site dangerous for women and children. The only thing that my speech harms on this site is the people brainwashed into believing everything Hamas says. I'll also state I've never once insulted anyone on here, but you've called me a genocidal maniac. Supporting Israel and supporting genocide are completely different things because I don't think Israel is committing genocide, and if I ever came to believe it, I would instantly renounce my support for the Israeli government, but one thing I will ALWAYS support is the innocents on BOTH sides, the women and children blown up by missiles or kidnapped or murdered, because of the conflict Hamas keeps bringing to its civilians and the pain they're enduring because of the terrorists they elected. Anyone who ever supports Hamas, legally supports a terrorist organisation, an organisation that indisputably kidnapped hundreds of people and has killed many more over the years, during peacetime without justification. If you support Palestine, you need to make a CLEAR distinction between innocent civilians, and the government and those who aid it. Government associated Palestinians voluntarily joined a terror group. They're guilty, and deserve the same punishment as any Israeli soldiers who torture people. Sin is sin, no matter the sinner.

#israel #politics #palestine #gaza #current events #hamas

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ltleflrt · 5 months

Text

Character Statistics

Basics:

full name: Kestrel Tav

titles: none (that he knows of)

nicknames: Kes, 'Shroom

gender: Male

pronouns: He/Him

sexual orientation: Gay

marital status: None

age: 43

place of birth: A roadside inn two days travel outside Baldur's Gate.

residence: Nowhere, but he has family in Baldur's Gate, Mantol-Derith, and Neverwinter, and they're as close to being home as he gets.

occupation: Harper

species: Half sun-elf, half human

known languages: Common, Elvish, Undercommon, Drow sign

Appearance:

height: 5'10"

build: Slender, athletic

eyes: Gold

hair: Red with gold highlights

tattoos: Eye makeup, a symbol on his forehead that supposedly helps focus his magic, and a feather on one of his shoulder blades.

other distinguishing features: Freckles, nose piercing

style: Long vests or tunics over trousers, with sturdy boots. Carries a hand carved quarterstaff that he uses as a walking stick, a casting focus, and a weapon.

Personality:

positive traits: Compassionate, optimistic, romantic, intelligent, friendly, perceptive.

negative traits: Nosy, impulsive, can't settle down in one place, sometimes allows people to take advantage of him.

likes: Rich foods, animals, music, kinky sex.

dislikes: Bullies, staying in one place for too long.

fears: Being the cause of someone's pain.

phobias: Spiders

hobbies: Cooking, playing matchmaker.

skills: Cooking, singing, magic.

quirks: He doesn't care about his hair very much for an elf. It's why he keeps it cut short like a human. When he's angry he has wild magic surges, even when he's not actively casting spells.

pet peeves: Being told that something is hopeless, accidentally turning himself into a sheep.

Family:

mother: Jayne Tav (human, Harper)

father: Biological father is a sun-elf spy that was probably from a noble family. He's not involved in Kestrel's life, and denies relations. Step-father is a drow named Elamshim Mizzrune.

siblings: Caelnir Tav (half-drow, older half-brother), Demagh Tav (half-drow, adopted older brother, @joasakura's OC)

spouse/lover: Astarion is his thiramin (soulmate), and Halsin is his lover.

children: none, and does not want any.

pets: scratch, owl bear cub.

notable close relatives: Demagh Tav, Jaheira (godmother).

best friend: his brothers Caelnir and Demagh.

rival/nemesis: none

Faves:

time of day/night: Sunset and sunrise.

weather: Sunny and warm.

breakfast food: Melted cheese sandwiches, with sausage if it's available.

dinner food: Chunky soups with fresh bread.

colours: Bright, vivid blues.

songs: A song his brother Caelnir wrote about their mother.

Other random stuff:

a cherished item: A stuffed orc doll named "Gert" that he got from his adopted brother Demagh. Whenever they meet in person, they take turns giving it back to each other. For protection, and good luck.

first love: A halfling boy named Milo that he met in the few years he spent in Baldur's Gate when he was a teenager.

usual mood: Cheerful, annoyingly so for certain grumpy/emo companions.

defining moments: Moving to the Underdark and meeting Caelnir when he was 9 years old, then losing their mother to a wasting sickness a few months later. A giant spider attack that nearly killed him around the age of 10, and being rescued by Demagh, which is when he decided he was going to be a hero.

Questions borrowed from this post.

#ltleramblings #male tav #bg3 #playing bg3 #kestrel tav

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ushioliddell-blog · 8 months

Text

Time for thoughts about what Ultimate will have been the QSMP's characters in Danganronpa.

Antoine : Ultimate Doctor with his abilities. Has paranoïa and will not trust easily someone. Will put cameras everywhere for that. Most of the time, a chill guy who loves building. Dreams to have occasion to practice medecine.

Baghera : Ultimate Forecaster or Analyst. Not like Fortunetelling, but more like she is so smart that she can guess what will happen like with Cellbit getting used. An another Chilcaregiver. A cheerful person who loves taking care of children, gossiping and matchmaking. Actually succeed to help two couples.

Étoiles : Ultimate Warrior, of course. Jokes about himself all the time but will always cheer the others with all he had. Has a toxic relationship with Junko AI. When he loose, turn to an really bad Ultimate Builder, claiming he retires.

Aypierre : Ultimate Engineer. This one is obvious too. An Ultimate Furry when he needs to take a break. An Ultimate Winegrower because of his mistrust of the Federation and the knowledge of how good can be a French wine. Is much more with his projects than people and as a few very good friends even if he talks to everyone. Can be really calculative, even with the persons he loves but will always help them, no matter what and do everything for them. Most of his projects are to help them, the others are to feed his competitive side against Mr Leader which he thinks is his true rival. Loves cringe humour and pranks. His goal is most of the time to embarass people which he succeed all the time. Used to be flirty but began to work on it since he began to have feelings for his one night stand and currently dating him.

Badboyhalo : Ultimate Occultist. Could have been Ultimate Childcaregiver but with recent events and the Soul Voulters..... An Ultimate Agitator too, who loves pranks. Often disagree with Mr Leader so much that nobody at this point is able to know if they love or hate each other.

Cellbit : Ultimate Investigator, of course. Will kill ANYONE who try to harm his Mr Interior Designer without hesitation. Has a dark past and know how to remind it, when needed.

Felps : Ultimate Demolisher. For his square. Use only one method and will always refuse any other. Disappear all the time and viewers always forget about him. When he comes back, it always seems to the others that he is new.

Pac and Mike : Ultimate Scientist. Because they don't only make machines.

Forever : Ultimate Leader. Obvious, too. Cheerful, tries always his best. Has a competitive side, currently feeded because of the Warrior and the Engineer. Will do EVERYTHING to win. Loves to tease The Occultist all the time.

Bagi : Ultimate Detective. But tries to be also the Ultimate Breeder (if she suceed to save her animals from Badboy ). Has principles and will not betray them. Has a pan and know very well how to use it. I try hard to give them différent titles, right ?

Foolish : Ultimate Builder. That goes without saying. Loves Chaos the most all of them but loves more to look at it, than cause it.

Philza : Ultimate Farmer. Could have been Childcaregiver too, but I dont want his potatoes to go in vain XD Real anarchist, doesn't really care about rules, or politic but will not be active until you touch someone he loves.

Tubbo : Ultimate Mechanist. Because much more younger than Aypierre and make trains. Can become engineer too and try to steal this title to his rival who dont really care about it and his efforts to try to steal it which infuriate Tubbo XD

Fit : Try to make believe that he is the Ultimate Housekeeper but is in reality the Ultimate P.E, good at all sports.

Jaiden : Ultimate Botanist. Loves to make flowers grow. Make her own tea and loves to serve it to the Monokumas. A chill and gentle girl who will do what she can to protect the persons she loves.

Tinakitten : Ultimate Cook and Assistant. Try really hard to help Mr Leader and loves to make Avocado Toasts. Extremely kind but loves chaos too. Touch someone she likes, you won't get away easily from her. Seems kind and cute and know how to use, or never with mean intentions. Often tease Mr Builder.

Ironmouse : Ultimate Singer. Even if she doesn't show it often to the others Islanders.

Roier : Ultimate Interior Designer. For ALL the efforts he makes when he creates his builds, like his supermarket, restaurants, hospitals.... A gentle, cheerful person. Seem sometimes stupid but is not. Loves explosions a lot.

Melissa : Ultimate Therapist. And as always in Danganronpa, the character who thinks that is good at it, but.....There are some twists. And Ultimate Dancer, at night.

Abuloeir : Ultimate Luck. This guy come always from nowhere, survive to MANY things without problems. His luck is like Nagito's. Worst happen but he always manage to survive. Is hated by the Investigator who causes most of his problems. What else could it be ?

Willyrex : Ultimate Pyrotechnician. Can be vicious in his traps. Art is explosion, after all, if you ask him.

Polispol : Ultimate Film Director. A chill guy who has a lot of humor and loves pranks. Seems so harmless that most of the time nobody suspect him as the author of thé pranks.

Maximus : Ultimate Presenter (not Host, dont want controversery for nothing :P ) Has his own show which he is really proud. Seems to be a cheerful person who has the same humor as his boyfriend. In reality, he is the most affected by this game and their lockdown. Has a depression because of the several losses he has and tendencies to keep his problems for himself all the time. Wants to be loved and find it with his currently boyfriend. Their relationship began by a Friends with Benefits but become a dating relationship. Greatly affected by Junko AI and hides it.

Code : Junko AI. As escaped Junko's control and do who know what.

Cucuruchos : Monokumas. Serves the Federation.

Fédération : Ultimate Despair. The society which create the game.

The Duck Manager : Junko. The mastermind of all this game.

The eggs : The warriors of Hope. Created by the Federation but have decided to be more than seeds of Despair.

I dont know more about Rivers, Lenay, German, Vegetta, Luzu, or Carrera so I have no ideas. If you have, go for it. If I forgot someone, say it to me, too.

#QSMP

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docholligay · 7 months

Text

The House in Fata Morgana: Door Five--1099

I have never reviewed a visual novel before, but iscahwynn made me a very generous offer and a long line of patience, knowing that we are trying something very new. To that end: Please don’t spoil me for the game at all! If you are reading this, I have only gotten through the part written above, and I don’t want to be corrected, even if I’m wrong, even if I’ve missed something, i don’t want to have anything confirmed or denied, and I don’t need any trigger warnings or extraneous explanation. Iscah would like my pure, naive experience of the game. Thank you!

Non-spoilery: Our ‘true’ story--I was going to go into this thing about how all stories are true in some way, but we’ve all been here for me saying that sort of thing and you don’t need me to say it again--is actually a lot neater than I thought it was going to be by the selling of it in the bit with the landscape painting. Not in a way that’s overwhelmingly disappointing or anything, but there’s not a lot of room to feel dislike of Giselle. She’s an overwhelmingly positive and cheerful girl who Experiences the Horrors and stays positive and cheerful, and I DO love that in a character, but I would be massively overselling it to say the idea of it being a more complex tale carries through. But, it’s a much more human story than the one we’re given in door four, with people tripping over each other, bruising each other, and a total lack of magic of any kind.

Spoilers below

I will give this to the writers all day long, i love that they let Michel be such a fucking jerk about everything. They make him very hard to like, and that makes it easy for us to understand Giselle when she straight-up tries to get him killed to get herself out of a shitty and unfair situation. (If I were going to criticize something in this door pretty majorly, it would be that I don’t care for Giselle never being responsible for any of her problems ever. I would have been happier to have had her, say, agree to sleep with Antonin under duress instead of straight up being raped and having “Harlot” carved into her flesh. That one earned a bit of any eyeroll. Or even if she took the position at the Bollinger estate initially because she wanted to grasp for social position! Something like that, where at the very least, I could go, “Oh honey, you got yourself in over your head) So much of this story echoes the fourth door, especially in the beginning, but they really give you the impression that some of Michel’s problems are Michel’s fucking fault, and I love that. He’s so caught up in his victim complex that he doesn’t understand Giselle is afraid of him because HE IS ACTIVELY MEAN TO HER. Amazing.

That complaint about Giselle being voiced, I DO like that she’s not a pushover in the same way the White Haired Girl was. Giselle yells, and says that things are fucking unfair, and is pushy, and I love that about her. She’s a far more fully realized person even if I think the writing plays it a little too careful in order to make sure you understand that Giselle is the victim here.

Continuing in the vein of “Let’s be confused about the white haired girl,” it seems like my theory that they were the same person was incorrect, and it was some sort of lost love? Who the fuck is marrying off these albino children in France in the 1090s? So if it’s a romance that went awry, is she the Devil he made a pact with? (Supposedly) Or is she the witch, and because it’s her casting all these stories as a jealous (??) woman, she is making the white haired girl out to be this perfect angel who would never do anything bad or wrong? But if that IS the gambit, why bother trying to convince Michel that he’’s the white haired girl? Is it because if Michel came back as a woman, Giselle wouldn’t be into her? They would be literally together forever but also not “together” in the way they planned. I don’t know.

The whole situation with the village seemed like a bit of an odd inclusion for me. I realize we need to give Giselle a way to betray Michel, too, so that they can build trust with each other again and all that. But it takes a fair amount of time simply to put Giselle in a bad enough situation that we can’t feel too angry at her for selling Michel up the river. As I stated earlier, this isn’t a thing I need--I could have lived with her being mad about the fact that Michel treated her like absolute shit and threatened her with a fucking knife, and selling him out--but I recognize tht they want your feelings about Giselle to be completely uncomplicated, and so unfortunately we have to endure quite a bit of misery porn when it comes to her.

I do feel bad for the girl that she has to beg for death in order to get a fucking word in edgewise.

I realy wanted something to come out of the rose, and how he didn’t know how to handle it, and so he accidentally plucked it, and realized he’d been so interested in it that he killed it. I thought for sure he was going to accidentally kill Giselle or something, because he didn’t know how to handle something he was unaccustomed to, however beautiful it might be and however much he might love it, but that never materialized.

I loved that he had the realization that the person he was becoming wasn’t. In many ways, him, but he didn’t want to be the miserable bastard he had been. That this new person he was becoming was in every way better, and that he had only ever more possibility.

The end was…fine, I guess? I don’t know, I’m certainly not disappointed with it in any way and I think it fits with the story and my expectations of it, so I’m not complaining by any stretch of the imagination, I just didn’t feel much about it. I guess that’s the downside ot a story being more real, is that there is no beautiful poetry in most of our ends. I don’t think Michel did anything wrong in saving Giselle, I think he did the only thing he could do, the only gift he had to give her.

I am very intrigued to see the Maid’s side of all this.

Bollinger as in like, Bollinger champagne? Hilarious. Amazing. I’m getting myself some when i finish this game.

I noticed in this door that there seemed to be less portraits of the characters. I don’t know if that’s to focus us in on Michel and Giselle, or if it’s because we’re running out of free cash, or what, but it was odd to me that at the very least Amedee didn’t get a portrait or anything.

On the note of art, man could I have done with less of Giselle breasting boobily everywhere I am concerned also that these artists don’t understand how breasts attach to the body.

#Doc plays the house in fata morgana #Commission review #Doc plays games

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hyenahunt · 1 year

Text

Saga: Release - 13

Writer: Akira

Season: Spring

Characters: Tori, Chiaki, Hokuto, Jin

Proofreading: 310mc (JP) & Peace (ENG)

Translation: kotofucius

Tori: I… I want to become someone people can love over such a long time, too.

Location: Mall 1st Floor

Time: After that… 30 minutes have passed since Rain-bows’s fansign event opened

Tori: Yeah! Thank you~ I’m really happy to see you, too! We’ll be having a performance right after this, so watch us if you can, okay? ♪

Yeah, bye-bye~!

Oh — wait, miss, you forgot something! I signed this for you, so don’t forget to take it with you, ‘kay~?

Right! Ahaha, I remembered you being a little clumsy…♪ I hope you’ll keep supporting Rain-bows and me, Himemiya Tori!

(Huff… I-It’s a lot tougher than I thought!)

(The fans won’t stop coming! I’ve been talking and writing signatures for thirty minutes non-stop! My throat and hands are killing me!)

(I thought a fansign event would be a piece of cake compared to performing, but…)

(I think I’m wasting more stamina than usual because it’s something I’m not used to, and I keep having to think up different ways to respond to each one of them.)

(Well, to be fair, I could treat them all the same, like when I'm approving documents…)

(But from the viewpoint of a fan, I know how ecstatic it feels when your idol responds to you in a special way.)

(Back when I was only a fan of fine, and went to their fansign events in secret…)

(Eichi-sama immediately recognized me as “Tori-kun of the Himemiya house” and struck up a conversation with me, and I was really touched.)

(Well, then I got so carried away that I got caught by Yuzuru who was tailing me...)

(But every single moment of it is a precious memory to me, including that part.)

(I hope this fansign event can also become a treasure for the fans who came to see me today.)

Tori: (Ehehe, I really feel like an idol right now.)

(When you’re neck-deep in the DreamFest system, the audience starts to look like numbers, but… each one of them is an individual of their own.)

(All their own persons, living different lives — and they’re taking their time to see us.)

(That’s just the happiest honor I could ever have; and I don’t think I can ever think of this as a “waste of time” anymore, even in death.)

Chiaki: I see! Ahaha, so you usually accompany your kid to our hero shows?

But today, you’ve taken a side trip from shopping to see me in secret?

Thank you! No, no — of course we’d be just as happy when fans other than children are cheering us on! If that’s the case, ma’am, I’ll write autographs for the child as well!

Eh!? It’ll be awkward if they find out you went to my fansign event without telling? That’s true! What to do, then…?

Ah, hold on! I always have Ryuseitai merch with me to give to people whenever I can, so by all means, take one as a present!

Please give it to your child! Just tell them that you got my autograph as a bonus when buying this merch for them… how about that?

Eh? “Is it okay for a hero to be an accomplice to a lie”? Ah, you’ve got me, ma’am! No matter what villains I take down, I’m still nothing when facing a mother!

Tori: (Ahaha. Morisawa-senpai looks so peppy.)

(He’s making so much noise~ It’s kinda amazing how he moves around in such a narrow space and manages to not bother anybody.)

(I haven’t been able to check how the others are doing since I was so busy myself, but they’re really dealing with the fans in their own unique ways…)

(This is so fun to watch~. I think I would’ve enjoyed this even if I was here as a fan ♪)

(Mm~ I’m not sure if it’s about our achievements, or how long we’ve been active as idols...)

(Sagami-sensei’s the most popular… Next is Morisawa-senpai, with a pretty huge gap from Sensei—and tailing behind them are both me and Hidaka-senpai… I think.)

(There’s people lining up in front of each of our desks, so thankfully none of us are strikingly unpopular, but… the gap is still there anyway. It’s frustrating.)

(I’m still a nameless new face with less than a year of work record behind me, so I know I’m probably already doing really well for my current status, but...)

(I can’t help but compare myself to other people.)

(No, no! I have to stop. Jealousy is an ugly emotion. I should observe their mannerisms and learn from their good sides...)

(I’ll attract more fans and become even better at entertaining them.)

Hokuto: Mm… are you okay? My hand isn't cold, is it?

I see. That’s good. Heheh, my teammates held my hands and warmed them up for me before the event.

I’ve always had a complex about my cold hands, but they helped me.

Hmm? Ah, I’ve heard of it. People with cold hands usually have a warm heart… I’m happy that you think that way about me.

Tori: (Ahaha. Hidaka-senpai’s so unbelievably stiff. His smile looks strained too~ Maybe Trickstar isn’t used to doing fanservice?)

(But, though I doubt he’s doing it on purpose, his inexperience is actually making him look cute.)

(That feeling like you can’t leave him alone… The fans are smiling with adoration at him.)

(I’m supposed to be the one giving off that adorable, naive vibe being the baby of the group, though…)

(You’re so unfair, Hidaka-senpai. You’re always taking away what I want.)

Jin: Eh~? No, no! I’m just joining the kids' fun for the time being!

This is an old man going against his better judgment~ Even just moving around a bit is already taking the breath out of me ♪

Eh? You didn’t want to hear that sorta thing from my mouth? Sorryyy, I guess I’ve really withered!

But it’s okay — the Sagami Jin in your memories is still shining vividly, right?

If you’ll continue to treasure that version of me in your heart… that’s enough to make me overjoyed. You’ll make me the luckiest man on earth.

I’m so glad to have met you. I will never, ever forget this day, same as you.

Tori: (Whoa… That’s an old hand for you. Sagami-sensei plays it so smartly without any hint of nervousness at all.)

(He’s aware that he’s not giving off the same shine as during his prime; so he shows everything he is now, without concealing anything.)

(But he still makes sure to sound earnest at the key moments, so his fans won’t be disappointed. He whispers to their ears… and charms them, making them fall in love with him all over again.)

(Most of Sagami-sensei’s fans are of pretty good age already… but when they’re talking with him, it’s as if they’re back to being young maidens in love.)

(I… I want to become someone people can love over such a long time, too.)

(…Oops, I gotta focus. I had a minute to watch since I finished signing for everyone, but the fans are starting to queue for me again.)

(According to Sagami-sensei, the fans should have some free time while waiting for our live show to start…)

(So they might line up for us too to kill time, even if it wasn’t our signatures they came for at first.)

(I should do my best to turn them into my fans. That’s what this unit’s for, after all.)

(Even if I didn’t catch their interest at first, just by having some connection with another idol they love… they’ll start paying attention to me, too.)

(Even people who would normally get buried away can get a chance to be shined on, and then they’ll be able to shine, too. What Eichi-sama created for us… is that kind of gentle and wonderful system.)

✦✦✦✦✦

← prev ✦ all ✦ next →

#ensemble stars #enstars #enstars translation #s: saga #hyenahunttl #hokuto hidaka #tori himemiya #chiaki morisawa #jin sagami

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the-girl-who-sold-the-wxrld · 1 year

Text

J'ai publié 1 761 fois en 2022

C'est 1 761 billets de plus qu'en 2021 !

147 billets créés (8%)

1 614 billets reblogués (92%)

Les blogs que j'ai le plus reblogués :

@bushs-world

@littlethingsmakebigchanges

@queen-of-meows

@bellamonde

@the-girl-who-sold-the-wxrld

J'ai étiqueté 745 billets en 2022

#sylki - 203 billets

#loki series - 152 billets

#lovie - 150 billets

#sylvie - 132 billets

#loki show - 116 billets

#loki - 108 billets

#mcu sylvie - 104 billets

#mcu loki - 101 billets

#pro sylki - 96 billets

#loki and sylvie - 87 billets

Tag le plus long : 140 caractères

#the fact she looks like a normally proportioned woman and the hulk transformation makes her look like a supermodel that hasn't eaten in 3 da

Mes billets vedette en 2022 :

n°5

i have terrifying statistics for 2021.

in 2021, 0 cishet people have been kicked out of their home by their parents for being cishet.

0 straight people in the world couldn't marry each other because they were straight.

0 cishet people have been seen as criminals by they countries for being cishet.

0 cishet people have been killed or ashaulted because they were cishet.

0 cishet people have been bullied and harrassed for being cishet.

It is so terrible. We need a Heterosexual and Cisgender Pride.

744 notes - publié le 26 août 2022

n°4

Stop fanfictions and posts where Achilles calls Patroclus "Pat". Achilles would never call Patroclus "Pat". Achilles is the only person in the world to pronounce the name Patroclus well, to detach the syllables well, not to say it at full speed until it is just an almost inaudible word. He pronounces it with love and care, and Patroclus loves it. So Achilles would go on forever, pronouncing his name as if it was his favourite word - and it probably is. No diminutive. Just Patroclus.

847 notes - publié le 25 octobre 2022

n°3

I was on Tumblr's Heartstopper tag and my six-year-old cousin came and sat next to me. she started looking at my phone ("Marion, je veux regarder avec toiiiiiiii !") and inevitably, there were pictures and gifs of Charlie and Nick (💙) kissing, and the same for Tara and Darcy (🧡).

after five minutes, after several gifs of Nick and Charlie, she asks me "are they two boys?". I tell her yes. she answers "but they kiss?" and I say yes, because they are in love. "boys in love with each other?". "yes, there are plenty of boys in love with each other in the world". "Oh, I didn't know". several minutes passed in silence. then, after a gif of Tara and Darcy, she says to me "and there, these are two girls in love with each other?" and I answer yes. she told me that she believed that girls were necessarily in love with boys and vice versa. I explained to her that there were also boys who liked boys, girls who liked girls and people who liked both. she said "oh okay" then spent the rest of the hour, until lunchtime, cheering and smiling at every Heartstopper post we saw. she let out "ohh so cute!" and insisted on putting likes under the photos and gifs of Tara and Darcy and Nick and Charlie herself.

there is nothing complicated in explaining homosexuality and bisexuality to children.

857 notes - publié le 24 juillet 2022

n°2

if you think forcing an 18yo to come out before he is ready is activism, then just go fuck yourself. you're not helping the community, you're not helping anyone. you're just a bully.

3 483 notes - publié le 2 novembre 2022

Mon billet n°1 en 2022

Istanbul, Turkey, September 21, 2022 • Beirut, Lebanon, September 21, 2022

Paris, France, September 25, 2022 • Berlin, Germany, September 23, 2022

Voir l'intégralité du billet

4 586 notes - publié le 26 septembre 2022

Obtenez votre année 2022 en revue sur Tumblr →

I am sorry for the post in french haha, I'm french so that's why it wrote it in french

It makes me laugh that my own blog is in my most reblogged blog because I often reblog my own posts lol (to add something, reply to reblogs or just because it took me time to write and actually want more people to see it)

Billets = post in french, étiqueté = pinned, billets vedettes = most popular posts, créé/reblogué = created/reblogged, publié = posted.

I am proud of the blogs I reblogged the most, because they all are amazing ^-^

And I am also proud that Sylki related tags are the tags I used the most hehe ! (I expected queer tags to be in the list but I think it's because I reblog queer posts very often without tagging them). Proud of my most popular posts too ;)

#tumblr2022 #année en revue #mon année tumblr 2022 en revue #votre année tumblr en revue #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

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semi-imaginary-place · 7 months

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fe3h misc thoughts

I associate dragon or some bird with Claude. Claude is the only one whose unique classes have wyverns, his route is called Verdant Wind and as explained by Marianne when she title drops the route, she explains that Claude is like the wind beneath a bird's wings lifting them up into the sky, and VW and GW heavily feature themes of freedom (choice, religion, ideas, borders, etc.). Through all this and more Claude is highly associated in the games with flight. Eagles are used in traditional hunting practices in the Eurasian Steppe and by Turkic peoples, from which Almyra draws inspiration from.

Garreg Mach is like a British finishing school, yeah the students are getting some education and leadership skills but its also about rubbing shoulders with the rich and powerful and making connections. It looks good a resume.

I romance no one personally, but I am collecting all S supports for the hell of it. I do not self insert into Byleth but also the S supports are blatant self insert bait instead of really engaging with Byleth as a character so I can't even say I like them from a character writing perspective.

ahhh yes the writers had to have Edelgard be emotionally dependent on the player character. gotta make the player feel important and involved...

I know Yuri is what most people want for an Ashen Wolves/Church gay romance option but I would have liked to see some diversity in the gay S support options because with Linhardt and Yuri we have 2 pretty boys which is better than 1 I guess but I would have liked to see the addition of character a little different so I'll vote Balthus. Also idk about anyone else but the gay men I've met love beef more than anyone else.

I found a gay gilbert stan wow it's like seeing a rare endangered species

my first thought when I saw Areadbhar was "that looks like a whale's fore fin's bones". Each relic was from a different dragon, that's why they all have different crests. The crest associated with Luin is the crest of Daphnel, so Daphnel got the blood of that dragon and a weapon made of their body. As for what body part, who knows, could have been a fang or a spine or carved out of a large bone.

Why Seteth and Flan look unchanged after 1000 years. If we interpret Rhea calling herself the "last" of Sothis' children as in youngest then she's younger then Seteth, but last could also mean last survivor of Nabatea. Nabateans, well dragons actually in Fire Emblem are a sort of immortal often worshiped as divine existence so they just stop aging at some point. Flayn specifically went into the regenerative sleep unique to dragons that Byleth does during the timeskip so you can think of the pause button being pressed for her life and then unpaused when she woke up recently. Also I think Flayn is just short, cheerful, and ignorant of modern society she's not actually all that young developmentally I think she was telling the truth when she says she's roughly the same age as the other students 16-20. Meta reason is they didn't want to make more character designs and models probably.

I don't really know if Indech ever met Cethlean before the events of the game. We do know that Cethleann fell into a long sleep from overusing her powers, we also don't know when she entered the War, so it is possible she and Indech were active at different periods. Given how reluctant Cihol would have been for her to fight I think it is more likely Cethleann fought in the later part of the war. Indech and Macuil both got fed up with humans eventually so it makes sense if he withdrew early. But all this is a lot of speculation on my part.

Yeah they're still Slithering in Azure Moon lol. Dimitri unknowingly kills Thales which I find hilarious but the Agarthan civilization and Shambhala is still intact and Nemesis and the zombie army is still in cryostasis. It has been debated how important Thales was like I've heard theorizing that he was the only one who could activate the intercontinental ballistic missile system but in the end we don't have a definitive answer about how important he was to Agarthan operations.

Raphael really is quite insightful! Has high emotional intelligence too and one of the healthiest grief responses in the game, offers some pretty good advice too like listen to your body, take things one step at a time, and take care of yourself.

in the original text Lysithea says Leonie would make a good husband.

Don't forget the month where everyone is very somber due to certain events and Lindhardt is like "yo what up I robbed the church"

rizzed up ignatz

The Ignatz quotes… yeah Ignatz has more change than most characters but a lot of people miss it because he isn't a very popular character and gameplay wise he's one of the few characters that gets better on maddening so most people don't use him on the easier difficulties. I find it very interesting that part of Ignatz changes and part of him doesn't its like you said the war hardens him but he keeps his love of the world and I like that about him. This is different than say Marianne where like everything about her changes (especially in VW) as she gets a new perspective on life.

I agree its sad that Caspar's English voice performance doesn't fit his character all that well, or at least not as well as his Japanese one does. Caspar is basically a shounen anime/videogame protagonist and he should sound like one and he does in Japanese but not in English. I love Caspar as a character I just don't like his English voice. The English voices are generally pretty good but there's a couple performances that make he cringe namely Caspar's and Mercedes'. Which is such a shame because their Japanese voices are perfect. In Japanese Caspar sounds like the stupid energetic jock shounen protag that he is, and Mercedes sounds very fuwafuwa exactly like a gently older sister type character which fits her so well. Her English voice sounds so forced.

So due to the open nature of the game there mostly isn't strictly a definitive canon class, just the most probably canonical/intended class. This is easiest to tell for the lords and Byleth as they get unique classes. For the other character look at what class they appear as as enemies although this isn't definitive either. For example Lorenz appears as an enemy paladin but given how his relic extends magic range and one of his best builds is in magic as well as his houses' history in magic and magic knights you could argue that his canonical class is dark knight not paladin. In the end there isn't really a definitive canon class just more canonical and less canonical classes like no one is arguing that war master is Lorenz's canon class. Or Manuela as an enemy appears as different classes on different maps. Another line of evidence is that unique outfits in part 2 for the students can be worn for certain classes that can be seen as their intended classes.

I will never be over how the game won't let me make Hilda a warmaster (or Linhardt a gremory).

With Almyra someone mentioned Turkic but I think it is more broadly central Asian influences with the horse culture and some of the imagery bringing to mind the Mongol Empire, combined with broadly Middle Eastern especially Persian. Faerghus might be Russian in climate but its more medieval Germanic with the warrior culture. I agree with aplumblum that Leicester reminds me most of the Italian Renaissance with it's focus on art and commerce, but with some Dutch and English influence as well, especially in the names. Morfis comes off as stereotypically Arabian/vaguely middle eastern as in magical desert city with the mystique of the height of the Arab empire highly associated with exotic magic, as seen from a European perspective. Brigid is almost entirely based on Southeast Asia (maybe with a bit of Oceania) as seen through the eyes of a Japanese developer. Dagda came off to me as Asian/East Asian as a very large and diverse continent that Fodlan is mostly just confused by and has conflicting accounts of. Plains? Deserts? Jungles? Tundra? Well if it's a continent then it'd be big enough for all of that. Dagda is also big and advanced enough to colonize Brigid and engage is a protracted long distance naval war. Also like how else did Fodlan get samurai???

Fodlan is already fantasy soup chronological hell, don't get too caught up on being historically accurate because the devs sure as hell don't care. Like in Faerghus you have the germanic warrior culture of the 1000s epics, you have chivalry codes of the 1300, Leicester almost looks Italian Renaissance which is like 1500, but there's also themes of the Enlightenment period and hints Fodlan is on the verge of the French Revolution so 1700-1800s. Tomatoes are from Mexico and peaches are from China and Fodlan has a bunch of made up fantasy fruits and vegetables. But yeah maybe the potato would fix Faerghus.

It's pretty obvious the Agarthans are evil I'd even say it goes too far with it, but a lot of people in the fandom tend to downplay either Rhea or Edelgard's agency when in reality they both have agendas that they are unwilling to negotiate on and that's where a lot of the overarching conflict in the story comes from.

The crest of Timotheos is associated with animals and perhaps had some power over them. Cornelia or the Agarthan that crawled into her skin probably experimented with the crest's power, trying to enhance and weaponize it and made it go haywire. The end result of twisting that latent power being Hapi's sighs summoning demonic beasts.

Me first playthough due to JRPG hoarding tendencies I didn't use the relics. Heros' relics are very easy to repair as umbral steel is very common so go ahead and use them at every opportunity, holy weapon materials are rarer but still worth using.

Fire Emblem: Three Houses has really weird gameplay for a Fire Emblem game and I happen to like the gameplay changes more than regular Fire Emblem gameplay. In most FE game level is class level and stats are what really matters but i find the 1-99 system more intuitive because no progress is ever lost, I also think the open sandbox-y nature complements the multiple routes and replay-ability.

Who cares about gameplay or "the meta" or damage when you have FASHION.

Edelgard gets some of the best designs in the game. I also like male Byleth, Dorothea, Petra, and Claude. The others are more situational Ignatz' part 2, Yuri's part 1 (the clown suit is a curse), Marianne's 3 Hopes, and Sylvain's part 1.

Wish we could toggle the little hats. The female warlock flower hat is cute. Or mortal savant kinda sucks but the mask looks really cool. Or dark knight's ram helmet.

My favorite classes: Falcon knight gives a little horned helmet to the horse, Bow knight because I love hit and run tactics, Dark knight because I like the magic knight concept, Mortal savant because it looks cool, Barbarossa because dragon (also a good class but most dragon and cool outfit). Brigand because what would I do without death blow

I have this pet conspiracy theory that Sothis is from the divine dragon tribe of other FE games (Shadow dragon, gaiden, Awakening, etc). I mean in Fates/IF characters literally get isekai'd and I think it happens in Awakening dlc too so dimension/world travel is an established part of the universe, it's very plausible Sothis is from Archanea.

Why Mercedes's mother ended up in House Bartels if she was the one with a crest. Hard to say, Adrestian House politics are brutal, Nuvelle got wiped as did Hyrm because of the inter-House powerplays. She might have been a commoner with a crest it does happen or someone of a lower class married in so Martriz had a crest. However keep in mind that with the fall of House Martriz she would have lost all power, status, and standing, she also could have been pressured by the remainder of House Martriz. In the end we don't know. Nobles certainly do scout for crest bearing commoners, Mercedes was pressured and harassed into such a marriage with the marriage leveraged by a donation to the church her family had lived in for many years.

#fe3h

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ingek73 · 7 months

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Protesting on Armistice Day isn’t a disgrace. Vilifying those who stand up for peace is

Owen Jones

It is misguided to claim that marching to stop a war on a day that marks the end of another war is disrespectful

Wed 8 Nov 2023 17.34 CET

Follow Owen Jones

Traditionally, here is what happens when Armistice Day falls on a Saturday. Millions observe a two-minute silence at 11am to remember the fallen. Life otherwise continues as it always does. Football grounds are crammed with cheering fans, pubs and clubs are packed with intoxicated revellers, high streets abound with bargain hunters. In short, an average Saturday, sprinkled with standard doses of cavorting, laziness and idle pleasures.

None of these activities had been considered an insulting lack of respect for Armistice Day. But a new exception has suddenly been invented, ad hoc, by those seeking to ban this Saturday’s protest against Israel’s blood-soaked onslaught in Gaza. An activity that is, literally, marching for an armistice on Armistice Day. This transparently cynical ruse has nothing to do with preserving the memory of my great-great-uncle Francis Aylett, mowed down aged 19 at the Somme, or any other lost soldier. Indeed, any insult to their sacrifice comes from those seeking to ban a peace protest whose message they object to.

That the Met apparently could not find a reason to ban the protest, despite coming under the pressure of our demagogic home secretary, Suella Braverman, says it all. Ever since Israel’s forces began the assault on Gaza that has killed more than 10,000 Palestinians, according to figures released by the Hamas-controlled health authority, each protest for peace has passed off, well, peacefully. At the biggest demonstration, which perhaps up to half a million people attended, there were just 10 arrests. Saturday’s protest is scheduled to start at 12.45pm, long after the two-minute silence ends. It begins at Hyde Park, two miles from the Cenotaph, and it finishes at the US embassy, further away still.

British Jewish activists have marched at every protest, and directly organised some actions. They have organised their own Jewish Bloc this Saturday, meeting at the Simon Bolivar statue in Belgrave Square, Belgravia. It is a perverse insult to suggest they would ever consider participating in protests that harass the Jewish community.

So let us be clear about what is really going on here. Those who support what the UN secretary general, António Guterres, describes as “collective punishment” of the Palestinian people know that any semblance of a moral high ground has been razed by Israeli missiles. They know that the vast majority of the British public abhorred Hamas’s atrocities, and also must speak out against a humanitarian catastrophe that leaves newborn babies being incinerated by bombs and pregnant women forced to give birth without medicines or anaesthetic. Nor do they take well to schools, hospitals, ambulances and refugee camps alike being bombed, or a conflict that has already killed 41 journalists, and more children in a month than the annual number killed in conflicts over the last four years.

UN secretary general, António Guterres

‘Those who support what the UN secretary general, António Guterres, describes as ‘collective punishment’ of the Palestinian people know that any semblance of a moral high ground has been razed by Israeli missiles.’ Photograph: Anadolu Agency/Anadolu/Getty Images

That polling suggests just 3% oppose an immediate ceasefire leaves Israel’s apologists in government and the media politically exposed. Their counterattack? Turn the world upside down. Demonise those who oppose the mass slaughter of innocent people as the real hateful, dangerous extremists. Portray those defending a military assault that, each day, wipes out entire generations of families as the real respectable voices of moderation.

There is an even more sinister end. Many commentators have not been subtle over their objections to the protests being driven by the number of British Muslims attending. Talk of deporting protesters who desecrate war memorials exploits bigotries about the demonstration being full of Muslim protesters with disloyal extremist inclinations. Anyone who has attended the demonstrations knows this is a vile deceit. Many Muslims have attended – unsurprising given how many of their fellow believers are being slaughtered – and they are like any other protesters: ordinary citizens who are traumatised by an atrocity facilitated by the support of our government.

There is an attempt to stigmatise any form of Palestinian solidarity, too: to deter from acting on their disquiet. This protects the government from public pressure, allowing it to continue offering carte blanche to Israel’s human and strategic catastrophe.

The Metropolitan police may yet bend to political pressure, underlining how rotten 13 years of Tory rule has left our democracy. There are other risks, too. The ceaseless demonisation of Palestinian sympathisers as menacing fanatics leaves far-right activists feeling legitimised, believing their opponents are fair game. These extremists – who support Israel’s onslaught – are mobilising on Saturday, and they understandably believe they have the tacit support of the government, given their position on the protesters is one and the same. If they seek to disrupt the protests, then the government and their media allies should be held to account. The rhetoric of Braverman and her media allies is dangerous.

The most likely outcome is that Britain’s diverse communities will flood the streets this Saturday, in our country’s long tradition of mass movements for peace. Rather than a “hate march”, as Braverman – whose particular specialism is hate – puts it, this protest is driven by a love for humanity. Rather than an insult to the dead, there is no more fitting legacy to remember the horrors of war by seeking to end them. As Harry Patch, the last surviving Tommy, put it: “War is organised murder and nothing else.” Who could look at the mass graves of Gaza and conclude otherwise?

Owen Jones is a Guardian columnist

#free palestine #owen jones #the guardian #protests #palestine

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vilereign · 1 year

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"This is only a minor setback. Better yet, only to be expected as one of the queens of Olympus."

Amphitrite is a show-woman, the formerly mortal Persephone of Carthage knew this too unfortunately well. Never could she ever think of trying to decipher what truly went on between the not-so-lovey-dovey couple. Could her own husband try? Well, he could. That doesn't guarantee that he'd be correct, Amphitrite always says.

"Once you recognize what you have inside you, a small piece of you goes mad." She slowly drifts towards her, like mist, like violent seduction without the intention to arouse. "And when you become completely bathed with unrivalled rage," Frail hands softly touch Persephone's cheeks as Amphitrite breathes,

"Vengeance will become yours."

With a heart of pure gold, Persephone tries to see the grieving woman. Even with what little she knows of how they acted around each other, she knows that Poseidon would terribly hate seeing her like this.

—

"Always so pretentious. You already have the adoration of our people here as queen, yet your mind games always have to extend to those who don't even know how to play, (or the fact that they're even playing.)" He says, combing his hand slowly through the tides of the ends of her hair.

To his dismay, his goddess only replies, "That is the appeal of my activities, no living human shall ever know what i'm thinking, and why. But if it's at your request, I may tell you only a single word—two more if I feel generous." Again, never a complete answer or explanation. Everything remains smoke and mirrors. A soft smile on her face warms his hidden heart though, as she plucks off the petals of a flower.

—

Persephone makes an attempt to challenge this madness, in hopes that she could prevent a drastic decision. "Please," Part of her voice quakes, but her expression remains strong. The two have lived vastly different experiences before ascending to Olympus, yet her entirety knows how to try and see what's tormenting the others around her deep down. "We know that it might not bring him back, but we can still try to put an end to this before it winds up killing more of our kin."

Amphitrite's hands slowly drop away from her face. In a low whisper, she utters, "I don't think I could care less about any more of our family members dying if it means I could deprive those scummy fools of any hope left in their eyes." It's true, Amphitrite truly did not care about any of their in-laws, because that's all they really are to her. In fact, she was about to strangle Kojiro to death after the third bout, only being stopped upon Hades and Zeus' demands. But what did she care about them? Nothing.

The goddess leaves the room, leaving a trail of water droplets on the floor as a result of her hair. They will pay for what they've done, and cheering as it happened. Persephone's stomach churns. Amphitrite places her hands over her own as she walks through the empty halls of her shared palace.

What would these children be to do without a father and a mother?

#♱﹔organ of vengeance #tosses this random oc dump out of nowhere and proceeds to vanish #if you cant find out what a good percent of this means then dw its going to make sense once i start drawing it #which isnt going to be for a good while im afraid but i'll try to talk about it some more in between shit i do

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soft-boi-eli · 3 years

Note

Hello Hello!

I just wanted to say I love your fics!

ALSO!

Could I request a CC!SBI X Gn! Insomniac Reader! Where the reader is an insomniac (Obviously-) but is somehow a pro at MC!

Like they are basically god at the game! They also REALLY enjoy horror games! They don’t get scared easily and LOVE horror movies! They basically love anything horror/creepy-

ANYWAYS!!

The reader lives off of ramen and Monster energy drinks (For fun-)! They have a Twitch (Which has about 18 mil followers and 14 mil subs!) and a YouTube channel (Which has 20 mil followers!)

They mainly play horror games (Obviously-) and MC!

You can do headcanons or scenarios/images with the SBI! Maybe like playing a horror game together or MC? OR! Maybe some things they do together? Or when they meet up? Or-to many ideas Nightmare-

ANYWAYS!

I don’t really care! And don’t worry about taking too long on it!

ALSO!

Maybe we could be friends? Only if you want too!

Remember to eat, drink, and get enough sleep!

Yes. I lovesthese ideas and I'm gonna choose headcannons due to they are a bit easierfor me to write.

And yes I'm perfectly fine with being your friend! I'm actually happy to make friends on this app so yeah!

Pronouns:nonbinary

Tw: cussing. Insomia, mentions of horror movies. Mention of horror games. Fluff.

SBI with a horror streamer friend head cannons.

*Ahem* tommy wanted to paly a game with you so you choose a game that didn't look like horror until the middle. He screamed at the jump scare and it made both of your chats so happy.

When phil decides to play with you there is literally a silence after a jump scare. Everyone thought he had a heart attack and honestly so did you until he spoke up about accidently hitting his mute button when he jumped.

Wilbur. He's a bit better then tommy but more scared then phil would be. Any little noise won't get him but when it starts to get noticeable the noiseless to him. The jump scare, he'd fall out of his seat and stay on the ground for a bit. You ask if he's good and he literally doesn't answer. He's dead. You killed him. Congrats.

Techno. He'd handle them a bit better then everyone else. Not as good as you but heisnt very paranoid. He literally runs at the noises trying to get jumpscared. While you run after him telling him to stop because if he doesn't then you'd lose and die. And technoblade never dies.

If you all play together both tommy and wilbur pussy out. Techno last the longest and phil the second longest. While you remain the ruler of horror games.

Now how you all met was dream invited you to the dream smp to add to the chaos. Needless to say it got extremely chaotic due to you being on almost 24 hours. You first ran into techno. He seemed confused and skeptical.

You both found eachothers love for potatoes. You set up camp quote close to techno but not too close.

Phil popped in when he needed something for a build and noticed a new name. Talked to you in chat and asked to join your VC. You both found each other talking for a bit.

Wilbur was next. Wilbur got curious over the new person and just hoppedinto the same VC as you techno and phil. He was quick to realize that you were a famous youtuber. Mainly for your horror videos and your extreme Parkcore skills.

In minecraft that is.

Tommy noticing that all of you were in the same VC joined in with shouting. He was low key jealous that everyone was obsessed with you. Then he saw why.

You literally cracked jokes at his shouting.

"Is that an angry pomeranian? Nah nah. It's an angry child. Even better an angry blonde!" - you.

He was shocked and immediately started joking and laughing with you. He wasn't fully angry for long.

Now about your diet. When they heard that you had only eaten ramen and drank angry drinks they were concerned. You lived quite close to techno so when you guys met up he was shocked that you looked as healthy as you did.

He hated the fact that you literally didn't eat anything else.

You told him occasionally you have something other then ramen but you were just too lazy to really cook anything and that you didn't feel like burning the house down.

One month phil, tommy, wilbur, and techno decided to organize a month long sleep over so that they could celebrate your birthday. Phil being quote the father figure cooked different, but easy dinners every night just so you didn't eat only ramen that day.

When they actually arrived though you got a text from Phil asking about your address in your dms. Not think much of it you just sent him your location.

You were going to take a small nap. Just to bost your energy before you went and streamed later that night.

As you were sleeping there was a car heading to your house.

Phil, wilbur, tommy, and techno were all just existing in the car. And when they arrived to your house they didn't expect to actually see a clean house.

You woke to a loud knock.

When you opened the door in your half dazed state you expected a package. But to see four people standing on your porch.

You nearly jumped out of your skin.

You were stuck there blinking at them.

Finally snapping out of it you let them in. Confused on why in the ever loving fuck they were here.

Phil explained they were here to celebrate your 21st birthday and they were here for a month.

You stared at them for a while. Confused on what to do since you haven't had people over in almost 2 years.

But you got use to it.

So when you got done streaming and smelled something other then ramen you were thrown off guard. Like what was that. I haven't smelled that in years.

But after the second day you got use to it too.

For your birthday phil literally made a feast.

Like he found your favorite food other then ramen and cooked it. With that he prepared everything you could dream of.

Your sleeping habits. Let's dig into those.

I'm in no place to talk as right now it's 3:05 in the morning. And here I am.

But when they are over they don't let you stay up till no 3-4 in the morning. They all know the importance of sleep.

But there are those nights where no once can sleep and it results in a late night stream. And streaming for hours none the less.

The amount of accidental all nighters everyone has pulled was immense. But that's what happens with jet lag, adhd, and insomnia.

Literally you get tired randomly. Sleep for only 3 hours. Wake up. Drink coffee, energy drinks, highly caffeinated tea. And don't sleep till late at night.

Pillow forts.

It's a must and it happens. Horror movies, pillow forts, and snacks. Like you all are in this massive fort, watching horror movies, one by one you all are falling asleep. You and techno were the last up due to technos active mind and your body not letting you sleep.

You two literally just vide there, changing the movies from horror to some silly animated movies, like how to train your dragon, frozen, Luca, and many others.

You two pull an all nighter and it's actually a bet to see how long anyone else takes to notice.

You bet an hour. Techno says all day.

You won. Philza notices the worse eye bags under both you and technos eyes and immediately starts scolding.

He is papa bird and he won't let anyone of his children neglect their needs.

"Did you even drink water at all? You guys should of been sleeping not binge watching horror movies all night!" -philza

You could only offer a smirk, along with a laugh.

"I think we did I just can't fully remember. Also we were watching animated films. Not horror. Surprised you didn't wake up to let it go." - you.

You turn to techno.

"You owe me 15 bucks pig boy!"-you again.

Handing you the money he rolls his eyes. "Yeha yeah. Rub it in." -techno.

Ah yeah they found a horror game that you were scared of surprisingly. It was actually surprisingly you hadn't played it yet.

Outlast.

You had been holding off that game until you finished your other one but here you were. Bored out of your mind.

So you decided fuck it.

That game teriffed the shit out of you. It was so good though.

When you screamed they all came rushing up due to the fact that you never scream.

They say you out of your chair, on the floor, blinking. They thought you were hurt.

But you sat up and looked at your computer.

"Damn. That was actually really good." When you looked behind you and found the boys all staring you smiled and waved.

"You need something?"-you

"You screamed. We heard a thud. We thought you fuckin died!" -tommy.

"No I'm alive. My soul almost divorced my body but it's still quite here."-you

That day made highlights.

The popular y/n actually got jump scared. The one person who never screamed at horror games screamed.

When they left you were sad yes but they were still your best friends. Ready to talk when ever you want.

Sometimes I think that you guys talk all through out the night. Them forgetting that you were actually in a different time zone.

Sometimes they pop into your streams, be it MC, horror, you just talking to your fans, or even the once in the blue moon, cheerful games.

They just pop in and start talking to you. And you talk back like they were there since the beginning.

Phil is now one of your moderators too. Along with tommy, wilbur, and techno. When they pop in they make sure no one picks on you.

And since you are now close to the SBI. You are now part of it.

You didn't choose the fans did. But they are your new family. No matter what.

Even if they disagree with your eating habit.

Or energy drink addiction.

Or insomnia.

Or you mainly playing horror games.

Or you basically living in your streaming room.

Or even the nearly 24 hour streams.

I could go on but I'm not gonna.

I'm tired. But I can sleep. 2 days and I get to have a tour of my new school.

And it took so long to finally get into it.

We have been going through a huge hassle even before school started to get me enrolled.

And then we had to get me into this program.

But now on Monday I get to go in. Get a tour. Then start either Tuesday or Wednesday.

Anyway hope you liked. It's now 3:50 and it's no proof read I'm sorry

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phoenixyfriend · 3 years

Text

Congratulations, Master Jinn, It's a Boy!

Notes: As far as I'm concerned, the Jedi Apprentice stuff didn't happen the way it did in canon so Qui-Gon is a dude who does genuinely mean well, but he's... bad at it. Also I messed around a bit with the timing of some other Legends stuff (Shmi saving Owen).

Warnings: discussions of canon-typical slavery, references to off-screen sexual activity, canon-typical child endangerment

Thanks to @atagotiak and @willowcrowned for looking this over and cheering me on.

------

After Tahl dies, Qui-Gon is... lost.

He's not one to drink his sorrows away, nor to engage in the same substances that his elder lineage brother uses, but distractions are needed. He takes missions, against the express recommendation of more than a few people suggesting he take some time to grieve properly, and Obi-Wan is silent enough in his wake. The boy blames himself, to a degree, and Qui-Gon is... he can't...

Qui-Gon cannot assure his padawan that it's not his fault. He cannot do that, not as he is.

So, missions. They do their work. There's a planet that needs some Jedi mediation, and the information suggests it'll be a calmer trip than most. It's in the vague space between the Mid and Outer Rim, somewhere on the Corellian run between Radnor and Herdessa, just barely past the gerrymandered border that insists certain planets are Mid Rim.

There's a young woman, a maid, perhaps late twenties. He's a shade too old for her, and he notes it, but she laughs and tells him that she's old enough to make her decisions, and it's not as though they'll be seeing each other again after this. She's heard that Jedi are well capable as lovers, and is looking to see if it's true, and that he seems a pleasant enough man with a lovely face and a kind countenance. He looks to be in need of a distraction, too, so why not kill a few birds with one stone?

Qui-Gon is looking for a distraction.

He lets her take his hand, and disappears into his rooms while Obi-Wan is off trying to learn some local game with other teenagers.

------

Qui-Gon does not keep in touch with his little tryst partner. He sleeps around a bit more, until Obi-Wan notices enough to bully him into talking to Master Dooku. It's a horribly embarrassing conversation, riddled with tears and grief, but he comes out of it... better. Somewhat. Master Dooku isn't a particularly soft man, but he tries. With the recent loss of Komari, and Qui-Gon having been his Master's own touchstone on what it meant to lose an apprentice, they're both carrying too-raw wounds.

So he gets better. He teaches his padawan and works in the gardens of the Room of a Thousand Fountains and does his job. He still allows himself some of the pleasures of the flesh, but he is... mindful, now.

The years pass.

There is a mission to Naboo.

Their ship, pretty and sleek as it is, lands half-crashing on Tatooine. He leaves with a handmaiden he thinks is a queen, and a jester of a Gungan, and makes his way to Mos Eisley. He meets a young boy with clever hands and bright eyes and a spark of compassion that outshines his bitterness at his own life as a slave.

Skywalker is a name he's heard before. It's not uncommon, really, and he thinks nothing of it until they reach the little set of hovels on Slave's Row. He sees Shmi.

He... sees Shmi.

------

The children are elsewhere, and Jar Jar is with them. The droids, too, are busy in little Ani's room.

"I had no idea," he says, for all that it can't mean much to her. He now knows why the Force directed them to this planet, however it chose to enact its guidance. "The child is..."

"The timing works out," she tells him, and there are lines in her face that are far deeper than ten years should have left. The suns and a life harder than she had before, he knows. "I went to bed with only one man around the time of conception, so... yes."

He closes his eyes. There is a pain in this conversation that Qui-Gon can't quite untangle in himself, so he smooths out what he can. "I see. How... if you don't mind me asking, how did you end up on Tatooine?"

She looks at him, and then back at the table she is scrubbing down. She'd rejected his offer to help most vehemently. He imagines she hoped for the distraction of having something to do with her hands as they spoke. "When I found that I was with child, I thought it a conversation best had in person, especially when things began to... happen, in my sleep. I thought he would be a Jedi, or close. Best to come to Coruscant, yes? But... I chartered passage. It wasn't safe. Pirates have an easier time of it, out here in the rims."

Hells.

"Master Jinn?"

"You need not call me that," he tells her. His skin prickles, because for all that he has been responsible for many terrible fates, this is one that rings as far more personal than the usual. "I'm... however inadvertently, it was your time with me that led to your current lot in life. I cannot apologize enough for that."

"And you cannot stay to free us."

He looks away. "I... will try."

"I heard young Padme. I'm not so naive to think that you would postpone the freedom and survival of thousands or millions simply for myself and my son," she says. She does not look up from the table.

"Shmi..."

"It was one night," she says, firm but still unwilling to meet his eyes. "One night with a wonderful outcome in some unfortunate circumstances. You don't owe me this."

"I do," he says, and hurries to add, "if... if only for the aid you are showing us now."

Shmi finally looks up at him, and her gaze pierces in a way that may have, once upon a time, been the thing that caught his attention and enticed him to take her into his borrowed sheets. "Qui-Gon, I will not ask you to stay just for my freedom. You have... so much power at your fingertips, but it has a different focus right now. I ask you to take responsibility, yes, but it can wait until you have saved a planet that has only you and yours to beg its salvation of."

It's ludicrously selfless of her.

"I will do what I can while I'm here," he promises anyway. "If... if I can only save one--"

"Anakin, of course," she cuts him off.

"Of course," he sighs, relieved for all that he hadn't expected otherwise.

(This is not a woman who would leave her child to this life for her own freedom.)

"I'll be able to send someone back to help," he promises.

"Jedi do not have jurisdiction," she says softly, careful as anything.

"But we do have discretionary funds," Qui-Gon tells her. "Especially to cover for troubles we have caused with our own poor choices."

She looks past him, towards the children, and asks, "Would you take me with you?"

"Do you wish to leave Tatooine?"

"No," she says. "Anakin's future is in the stars and among the Jedi, but mine..."

"You don't have to stay here," Qui-Gon tells her as gently as he can.

"There have been men, over the years," she says slowly, "who have courted me with the intention of buying my freedom to marry."

That seems like a very coercive setup, in Qui-Gon's eyes.

"I always told them that I my requirement was that they free Anakin as well," she continues, and smiles mirthlessly at him. "Almost all of them lost interest, then, especially once he started having more worth to Watto than I did."

"I see," Qui-Gon says. He does, actually, though he's not sure what it has to do with their conversation.

"Recently, there's been a moisture farmer visiting me when he stops by the town. I gave his son some help, a time ago, after the boy got into a spot of trouble. The father is... I wouldn't call him a particularly handsome man, but he's kind, and when I mentioned that I would not take my freedom until I could be sure Anakin had his, he said that he'd never expected anything less," she explains. She isn't looking at Qui-Gon, but at the wall. "I do not think that I love him, yet, but I think a marriage would be kind enough to us both."

It's not a marriage of the kind written in storybooks, but Qui-Gon thinks he understands the marriage Shmi means. It's an old-fashioned thing, a joining of skills and resources and perhaps some affection; love could grow out of this, surely, but it's not the whirlwind a wealthy celebutante has in the core, nor the forced thing he'd suspected of her earlier suitors, so to speak.

"If Anakin is free, then it will be easier for Cliegg to bargain me from Watto," Shmi says. "And I do trust Cliegg's intentions."

"You truly wish to marry this man?" Qui-Gon asks.

"I'm open to the idea, at least," Shmi agrees easily enough. "If you and yours purchase my freedom before he does, I'll feel more at ease accepting, I think, and he'll feel less guilty about the offer. We'd suit each other, and I've no reason to worry about him asking me to provide a child when he already has a son."

"Then it's a plan," Qui-Gon sighs. He stares at the same wall as she does, as if he can see his... his son. As if he can see through it to his child. "Force's favor, this is a mess."

"There were better ways to find out," Shmi acknowledges, and then elbows him. "Help me set the table, Master Jedi. We can talk more about Ani's options after dinner."

------

He doesn't ask Obi-Wan to check Anakin's blood against his own, when he asks for a midichlorian count. He doesn't feel that he needs to.

"You're going to bring this individual back to Coruscant with us, aren't you?" Obi-Wan guesses, voice dry.

Qui-Gon wonders, for a moment, just how to explain the situation.

"I've met his mother before," he finally settles on. "And it turns out that I am, indirectly, responsible for their current status as slaves."

"...I see," Obi-Wan says. "I suppose we owe it to them, then."

"This is not a 'we' situation, padawan."

"Master? I've been helping clean your messes up for over ten years. Every situation is a 'we' situation."

Qui-Gon lets himself smile. "Keep an eye on the Queen, Obi-Wan. We don't want another young lady insisting on an adventure among the sands, now."

"Of course," Obi-Wan responds. Idly, he asks, "Should I expect the authorities to be interested in our manner of departure again?"

"No," Qui-Gon says. "No, not this time, I think."

------

Though he has no way of knowing it, Qui-Gon's manner of leaving Tatooine is nearly identical to what it might have been in another world and another life. There is still an ill-advised podrace, though anxiety perhaps has a tighter grip on his ribcage. There is still a bet that frees a young child, though he is perhaps a little colder to Watto than he might have been. There is still an attack by a Zabrak he's never met, though he is perhaps a little more panicked when Anakin is almost run over.

(At least the boy has Qui-Gon's promise that someone will come back for his mother once they have access to Temple Funds again.)

(Anakin still doesn't know why.)

"The Council will say he is too old," Obi-Wan says, after Anakin's disappeared with Padme and Artoo, and the Jedi have been given a set of rooms to sleep away the time in hyperspace. "Do you have a plan for when they do?"

Qui-Gon doesn't meet his eyes. "He is my responsibility. His being a slave on Tatooine, for all that I didn't know he existed, is indirectly my fault. I am the reason we didn't know of a child so powerful in the Force before. "It is my duty to see him to something better than the life he has had thus far."

"You said that before," Obi-Wan notes. "Indirectly your doing, but how?"

Qui-Gon rolls the conversation and confession around his mind for a few moments, lets it shape into something light-hearted that will still convey what must be conveyed, and sighs. "Do you remember when you and the Duchess had that pregnancy scare?"

"I'm not sure where this conversation is going, but yes."

"So, in light of that, you cannot mock me for the mistakes I made ten years ago, which may or may not have resulted in the nine-year-old currently following around Handmaiden Padme like an Alderaani duckling."

"...you didn't."

Qui-Gon grimaces and shakes his head; he's unable to hide the resignation he's felt since he walked into the rooms on Slave's Row. "Unfortunately, it appears I did. Shmi was on her way to Coruscant to inform me of the pregnancy, and hopefully give birth in the Temple, but... pirates. Seeing as our shared night resulted in her trip, and said trip resulted in her capture, I'm inclined to say it's my fault."

"I don't think I've heard you admit to fault so easily before," Obi-Wan says, but settles down on the other cot without further comment. "So, you have a son by blood. A very powerful one, as it turns out."

"With a darksider after us," Qui-Gon mutters, tucking his hands back into his sleeves. "If nothing else, I need to secure Shmi's freedom, but after that... I don't know, yet."

"I see." Obi-Wan is silent for long moments, the air abuzz with the engines but no words. "If the council rejects him... will he return to Tatooine?"

"I don't think so," Qui-Gon says. "It's possible, but Shmi had hoped there were better things for him elsewhere. Perhaps enrolling him in a Coruscanti school, or something on Naboo; young Padme seems fond enough of him, and his actions are what got us off the planet."

"Leveraging the queen's favor?" Obi-Wan asks, dry as the world they just left behind.

"For a child's benefit, not my own or the Jedi Order's," Qui-Gon corrects.

Obi-Wan rolls his eyes.

------

The Council listens, when Qui-Gon explains that there is a darksider, possibly a Sith, involving themself in the affairs of Naboo. They listen when he explains, with little shame, how he acquired the hyperdrive that got them off planet. They listen when he explains that he angled the bet, quite deliberately, to free the slave child that helped them.

"Too old, he is, for the creche," Yoda notes. "Know this, you do, yet brought him, you have, to the Temple. Why?"

Qui-Gon can't explain through a joke, to them. Obi-Wan was one thing, but the Council... no. He must tread carefully. "It is my fault that he and his mother ended up enslaved on Tatooine, and thus beyond any of our Searchers."

"Your fault how, Master Jinn," Mace prompts, seeming rather a lot like he'd like to pinch the bridge of his nose, but is refraining to remain professional.

"She was on her way to Coruscant to inform me of her pregnancy when the ship was boarded by pirates," Qui-Gon says. He wonders how many times he'll have to tell this story. "The timing suggests that the boy is, indeed, my child."

Mace closes his eyes and leans back in his chair. He does not, in fact, pinch the bridge of his nose or sigh, but he does breathe out in a very controlled manner. It's a very restrained reaction, all things considered.

"You have a son," Mace finally says.

"As I found out less than a week ago, yes."

"Does he know he is your son?"

"No, not yet," Qui-Gon admits. "I thought it best to figure out a plan of action before telling him."

"Small mercies," someone mutters.

"The mother?" Mace asks. "You said they were both enslaved, but you only mentioned securing freedom for the boy."

"I have savings, discretionary funds," Qui-Gon explains. "I'll arrange for her freedom once we have time to return to Tatooine. She intends to marry a moisture farmer."

Mace, at least, relaxes minutely at that. "What will you do if we decline to admit him to the creche?"

"He's a fair hand at engineering; finding him a place at a school for such things shouldn't be difficult," Qui-Gon says. "Barring that, I think the Queen of Naboo and several of her handmaidens have taken a shine to him, and I imagine they'd offer something similar on Naboo if they knew he was debating his options. He did attempt to sacrifice his own chance at freedom in order to help them."

Someone almost says something about that. Qui-Gon can feel it. They hold back, though.

"And the boy?" Yoda asks. "To a university, or to Naboo, does he wish to go?"

Qui-Gon shares a look with his padawan.

"The boy wishes to be a Jedi," Obi-Wan says, when it clear Qui-Gon isn't going to put the words into the air. "Rather intensely, at that."

"Intensely how?" Master Mundi asks.

"Tatooine slaves have stories about Jedi coming to free them," Obi-Wan explains, so matter-of-factly that several of the Council members shift in discomfort. Qui-Gon is very, very proud of him. "Anakin views becoming a Jedi as a path to making such legends a reality, to help others in chains. It is not the worst reason a child could have for wanting to join the Order."

"But it is a reason born of traumatic experiences," Master Poof points out. "One that can easily, reasonably, turn to anger, and while anger has its place in the life he lived, it will make life as a Jedi much more difficult than those found younger. To be driven by past hurts, to have it as the primary driving force, it is likely to put him at risk of trying to rely on his anger to fuel his determination."

"And thus at risk of the dark side," Master Rancisis concludes.

It's what everyone's thinking.

"I cannot force your decision," Qui-Gon says, as mildly as he can. "But I think that it is worth considering what Naboo will say if the boy who saved their queen is rejected, considering what will happen if the surprisingly powerful darkside user that attacked us changes tacks and decides to kidnap an overwhelmingly powerful young boy, and of course considering what will happen to that young boy, already full of trauma and pain and with the highest midichlorian count any of us have ever seen, if he doesn't have a Jedi to guide him away from the dark. Is it not better for him to have a guiding light that knows the risks?"

Mace is ready to strangle him, and he isn't the only one.

"And again," Qui-Gon says, still so very pleasant and even and blastedly mild; he's even smiling, "it is, in fact, the fault of a Jedi that he was a slave for nine years in the first place, and it can only be the Will of the Force that we found him now."

"You are the most frustrating man alive," Master Tiin notes.

"You flatter me," Qui-Gon answers.

He is dismissed from the Council room, and he can feel Obi-Wan's resigned embarrassment radiating out like a little heat lamp that only Qui-Gon can sense.

They'll do what's right, Qui-Gon thinks.

He isn't sure they can really afford not to.

-----

The Council tests Anakin, but does not deliver a judgement on whether he can join the Jedi yet. They tell him their concerns, the other options they're considering, and that they've already reached out to an operative near Tatooine to ensure his mother is freed. It's like a weight is lifted from Ani's little shoulders, when he hears, and he clings to Qui-Gon's robes and whispers his thanks after.

Anakin refuses to stay at the Temple when they leave. Obi-Wan asks Bant to look after him, and it's a good solution, but Bant is called to handle a surgery, and Anakin slips her notice while she is buried to her wrists in someone's innards, and he crawls into the hidden spaces on the ship to Naboo, keeps silent until they've already left Coruscant and it's too late to drop him off somewhere safe.

He's going to be a hellion, and everyone knows it already

("Obi-Wan, pick up the comm. Listen, I--thank goodness, Obi-Wan, I'm so sorry, I lost that kid you left with us, and--")

("We know.")

("What do you mean you... oh no.")

("Oh yes, Bant. Oh yes.")

("How did he--")

("Honestly? Your guess is as good as hours. He's in a time-out right now.")

Naboo... happens.

Qui-Gon knows, after, that the only reason he didn't die is because the thought of "I can fight this man without endangering Obi-Wan, he is almost a knight, he can muddle on if I die and I can weaken the monster ahead of me, so Obi-Wan can have an easier time of it once he's had some time to recover," is superseded by "Obi-Wan is an adult, but I cannot abandon Anakin again."

(He feels guilt for it, after, but this is something to speak with Mace or Yoda about.)

(Obi-Wan must not know.)

Qui-Gon is still injured. He'll live, and will even be able to fight again, eventually. But he is confined to a bed, cuffed to it, even.

"But what happens to me now?"

The tiny voice of a boy who's managed to become a war hero at nine drifts in through the door, the speaker unaware of just how awake Qui-Gon is.

"We'll figure it out," Obi-Wan promises, with a slight tremor to his voice that few but his crechemates and Qui-Gon would know to listen for. "I'll be just a comm away if you need me, alright? But no more sneaking into warzones. You're too young."

Anakin makes a little noise of annoyance. "I helped."

"And you could have gotten very hurt doing it," Obi-Wan says. There's the susurrus of shifting fabric, and Qui-Gon thinks his apprentice has gone to a knee. "Anakin, I was... I was in a war, when I was not much older than you. Thirteen. There was an army of children, and I've seen too many dead younglings."

"I've always known I could die," Anakin protests, a petulant little mumble. "Gardulla used to eat her slaves for fun. I was three and I knew that."

Oh, Qui-Gon's going to vomit.

"I... I know that death isn't anything new to you, but it wasn't new to me, either." Obi-Wan explains, strained enough that anyone can hear it, now. "Please understand: I've held the dying bodies of children as young as six who were shot down in battle, and if you became another of those bodies, Anakin, I couldn't forgive myself."

Qui-Gon is torn between swearing and crying. There's a build of hysterical laughter that he wrestles back down and into the tense curl in his chest. Of course that hellish experience is Obi-Wan's first thought. Of course, Qui-Gon's greatest failing to him...

Hells, he's failed every child under his care. Feemor, at least, hadn't taken it to heart, but Xanatos had fallen because Qui-Gon wasn't enough, and Force's light, he'd been completely unable to keep Obi-Wan safe as he should have, and he'd failed Anakin before he'd ever even met the boy, and... and...

He should keep his distance. He'll explain their relation, It's only proper, and it'll mean he can't break his son the way he has every padawan so far.

It's for the best.

#Qui Gon Jinn #Anakin Skywalker #Shmi Skywalker #Obi Wan Kenobi #Disaster Lineage #QuiShmi #Phoenix Posts #star wars #the phantom menace

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