#I swear I can write stuff without a main character death | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

brisquad-unit-4402 · 1 year

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zombie au with ike ft. luxiem - In Pursuit to and from the Sun

(i think this submission got lost in the sauce and i can't find it but at least i still have this screenshot)

lmao sorry i went off the grid for a sec. life happens, you know, applied for some vsf programs, went on a classified operative excursion away from my post and got a new writing software. i actually wrote the last of this on a helicopter returning from the mission so that’s why i didn’t proofread beforehand sorryyyyy. but more importantly I TOUCHED GRASS. guys. i touched so much grass. i touched so much grass i could replant a garden. call me a topiary, i touched that much grass. is this what it’s like to work at a dispensary? bc i touched so much grass

a few disclaimers: this fic is ike centric but contains general luxiem angst as a treat and may be read in a platonic or romantic tone, whichever you prefer. it's also another 10.7k words long so if you want to read but don’t have the time, use a like/rb as a bookmark. most importantly: heed the tags for this one, i kind of went off the deep end here

tags: platonic relationship, hurt no comfort, angst, zombie au, no happy ending, gender neutral reader

⚠️ major character death, suicidal thoughts, gore, infection, arson, and apocalypse-typical violence

continued au notes and commentary here (spoilers)

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Ever since the initial zombie outbreak, you’ve been running around the country with your best friend Ike and the circle of close friends you both share. You’ve made peace with the fact that it will always be hard. You and your band hop around from town to wilds, with no real objective other than to survive. Every location has something to glean, after all. It’s just that the zombies are always on your tail, and there’s only so much looting to do before the chorus of dead can tear you and your family apart.

It’s deluded to pretend you’re the invulnerable main characters, though. You and your friends are in a townhouse currently being ambushed by a strain of zombies. You swear they’ve gotten more intelligent since your last encounter. A dense herd of bloodthirsty undead is one thing, but a dense herd of bloodthirsty undead that have a chance of understanding positioning is another. Closing doors is barely a second of relief now.

You were lucky to be in a room with Vox when you got ambushed. He lived his post-apocalyptic life with a rebar rod in his hand, wrested from a collapsed concrete building early in during the initial outbreak. He claimed to be a trained swordsman once, and even though the rebar was more of a club than a sword, you admit you would’ve been worse than dead if you didn’t have him by your side. You’re sure he’d be screwed without you, too. Now that the world’s gone to the dogs, you stay prepared with a pair of climbing picks that can clobber in zombie brains just as well as scale walls. Vox shoved zombies out of the way while your picks cleared a path to escape from the house out through the window, Vox in tow.

You and Vox reunite with Ike and Shu outside. The former keeps various kitchen knives hidden under his no-longer white mantle, and defends Shu from stragglers while he digs into his backpack. You notice his weapon, an iron fire poker, by his feet along with a bottle. He rips sheets off of an old Millwall brick to stuff inside the bottle.

“Blowing the place up,” Shu says, in case you didn’t make the connection already. His breath is ragged. “Where’s Luca and Mysta?”

Like a stage cue, you hear the rocket of gunfire the second he says it. Your hope is crushed. Noise attracts zombies, and Luca was the only one with a shotgun. If he pulled the trigger, the situation was even more dire than you thought.

Shu grits his teeth and repeats himself, intensity barely restrained. “Where is Luca and Mysta.”

“I’m going back in,” Vox declares.

Ike drives a knife into the head of a fallen body. Destroying the brain confirmed they wouldn’t regenerate, and he minimizes the risk as precise as a surgeon. He made short work of the zombies that hadn’t overrun the house yet, but you could see them flood the interior. “Don’t be stupid, Vox, that’s suicide.”

“You heard the gun!”

“And I said that’s suicide!”

“Not if someone goes back in!”

“How are you going to find them without getting yourself killed?” Vox opened his mouth, but no sound came out, and Ike took advantage of it. “That’s what I thought. Luca’s our muscle and Mysta’s a clever guy, you’ve seen him outsmart the zombies so many times before!”

“They know basic organization, Ike!”

“All the more reason not to go back in! Have some faith in your friends!”

Vox grants him an unholy leer through his haunting yellow eyes. “How dare you lecture me about faith when I’m trying to save their lives.”

His glare was lost. Ike focuses on confirming the dead stay dead. His back is turned from the swordsman as he chops a skull in two with a butcher’s cleaver. “Because no matter what, they’re going to get out, and they want you out just as much as they’re fighting.”

But Ike’s words were just as lost to Vox; you barely saw the trail of his blood-splattered haori before he ran back to the townhouse, rebar in hand and fury on display.

Shu shoves the remains of the Millwall brick into the cupholder of his pack, a battering ram for another day. He produces a box of matches instead. “It’s best to take them all out at once.”

You speak up. “But Vox just-”

“I know.” Shu’s lips purse. “And I’m not going to throw them. Not until I know they’re all safe.”

You watch as Vox speared through a living corpse, then threw its remains on the ground. The zombies are centered inside the house, but the windows are all covered. The door stays open as he passes through the threshold, but you can’t see a trace of him left.

Ike stabs through a brain close to you and Shu. You see him heft himself up, and the traces of a permanent dead remain on the ground. The head is split open with precision, and the brain blooms out from the skull. It leaks pink nerves and black rot among the blood, like a disgusting flower.

He passes by you, dead set on his goal. “You’re not going, Reader.”

“I wasn’t planning on it.”

“And don’t expect to.” Ike’s words are emotionless, but not cold. As much as he pushes away Vox, you know he cares for everyone in your group like brothers. He’s the least risky out of all six of you- after all, he’s tearing apart zombie brains without a complaint while you catch your breath and Shu stands watch.

You draw your climbing picks and follow him to the field of dead. “Let me help you.”

You feel useless just standing there, after all.

Though the task of confirmation is much calmer than fighting for your life, it’s still unenviable, and you have to admire how Ike distances himself seemingly so easily from it. You try not to look at their faces, but that’s just as impossible. After all, the brain is right between the eyes. That’s the worst part.

You made the mistake of looking into zombie eyes twice in your life.

The first was your first fight of the apocalypse; a zombie had you deadlocked in an aisle of an outdoors store, and only when it was within biting range did you drum up the courage to grab the first thing you saw- two fluorescent orange climbing picks, never used- and drive them into the writhing heart. You bolted then, too focused on escape than freezing, and those climbing picks proved themselves to be your best survival tool in combat and exploration.

The second was the first time you confirmed the dead, and those eyes, that face- skin and bone but youthful, blue bleeding through the iris like a cracked yolk, remains of eyeliner and mascara along her deteriorated features- she was a person, so young, so beautiful when she was alive, like she knew she had decades to go- sometimes you swear she’s the face you see at night when you remember how human and how simply unlucky this world is now. It’s simply unlucky, and being unlucky is simply brutal.

(You held back your tears when you bashed her brain in. Later that night you pulled your best friend Ike aside, and cried in mourning of a woman whose name you never learned. He didn’t complain then, either, and you only sobbed harder when you realized as much as he comforted you, he could never muster up the vulnerability to grieve himself.)

You club a pick into the forehead of the fresh, putrid dead. The other pries it open, and a third swipe pulverizes with finality.

It’s messy. When you drive your weapons into the skull there’s a crack of metal against bone, and a thin gush of blood that spurts out to your arms. Especially large openings reveal nodules of black rot spotted through the brain. If you focus, you can see the moist, moldy texture seep through the wrinkles of the brain, and if you were any less jaded it’d be enough to make you turn your head and hurl.

But the deed is done in only three stabs, and you cling onto that fact. The more mechanical the task is, the easier it is to drive yourself to just get it done. Club, pry, pulverize. Club, pry, pulverize.

You pass by one of Ike’s carvings as you move onto another body. His work is premeditated from habit; he usually does this deed while everyone else recuperates. A standard chef’s knife is his weapon of choice when he faces against zombies, but he keeps a cleaver sheathed to his side when he has the time to get precise. One good slash goes through bone. Bone sweeps through the brain, and the work is done, and he carries on to the next, messy on his mantle but clean in the cut.

There are only a few more bodies left untouched on the yard where you hear heavy steps on the grass and Shu’s voice cry out. “Luca!”

You and Ike snap up. Luca’s blond hair is matted to his face with blood and rot as Vox runs beside him. They look like they ran through a blender of decayed flesh, and considering the herd of dead inside the house, perhaps that isn’t so strange of a metaphor. Even as Luca sprints, he turns to pump shotgun lead to the predators when they get closer, and each corpse’s fall is punctuated by hot gunfire.

Shu calls out his name again frantically. The men return, and so do you and Ike, five missing one. “Luca, where’s Mysta?”

“It’s bloody,” Luca simply says. His breath is short, and he wipes at the mess of gore and hair on his forehead. All it accomplishes is smearing black and red together along his face and in a blotch along his arm.

“But where is he, I need to know!”

“And it’s so much.” He trails off. He stares into the side of the townhouse and beyond the distance. Strapped to his back is his go-to weapon, a baseball bat littered with nails, each with residue dripping off the spikes from freshly killed zombies. “There’s a lot. Oh, I’m feeling kind of- kind of cold.”

“He’s in shock,” Ike says. He takes Luca’s hand in his, but Luca doesn’t even react. “Oh, Luca. What happened?”

“Kind of a lot?”

“Where’s Mysta?”

“He…” Luca’s eyes dart to the center of the townhouse. “He’s stuck, because of me, isn’t he?”

“Alright, lay off the man.” Vox intervenes. “We’re done asking questions. Shu. Your matches. Light it up.”

“What?!” Shu screams at Vox. You’ve heard him yell, but never once have you heard him scream. Especially not with Vox sounding so detached. “No, are you crazy? Mysta is in there!”

“Light it up, Shu-“

“I said, no! No! No way, not a- not a fucking chance!”

“Shu, listen to me!” Vox thunders. “I’m sorry, but Mysta is gone.”

Shu stands his ground. His features are tense, and his ultraviolet eyes burn holes through the earth. “Not a fucking chance.”

“Mysta is gone,” Vox insists, and you hear his bassy voice break even lower. “I saw it myself.”

“He is not.”

“It was too overrun, it’s miraculous Luca even got out.”

“Mysta,” Luca says, and closes his eyes. Ike holds him upright and rubs his arm, as comforting as he possibly can in the worst situation, as much as possible when his own face is just as distraught as everyone else.

“And I wish with everything that I have that I could’ve gotten him out,” Vox continues, more of his own justification than anyone else. “And I wish I was just a little faster, and that they were a little further away, and, God, that he wasn’t trapped, but he was, and I wasn’t fast enough, I wasn’t close enough…”

Shu is murmuring his own protests to himself at this point, and feeling the pit in your stomach yourself, you reach to hold his hand. He jerks away like you’re made of lava. You feel ill. “You’re lying to me.”

“And he got bit, and he knew that meant death. And he ran, ran upstairs, to draw them away from us, and there were more, and he knew, he knew, he knew he was dead but we weren’t.”

Luca lets his head fall on Ike’s chest. Ike becomes his crutch, and holds him. “Mysta.”

“His distraction saved Luca’s life. And mine if I was slow.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“He was a hero,” Vox says.

“Stop.” Shu’s eyes shut. He looks like stone about to break, paralyzed in denial as the proper grief is setting in. His hands dive and clasp around yours. He’s trembling. You squeeze back. “Don’t talk about him like he’s dead.”

“He was a hero, and our brother, and the sun. Please don’t devalue his sacrifice like that.”

“Oh my god.” Ike interrupts, and his face is paler than the dead. “Oh my god. Oh my god, Luca, don’t look.”

With one hand, he buries Luca’s head into the fabric of his mantle, and with the other, he points to the tallest point of the townhouse.

You crane your neck up and squint. The townhouse has one window peeking out from the room along one small wall. When you recognize the shapes through the window your legs nearly give out. Startling, saturated, unadulterated horror grips you. You see his hat.

“He’s still alive,” you whisper. “Or he rose. But he’s still surrounded.”

With revived desperation Vox grasps Shu by the shoulders. “Don’t devalue his sacrifice, Shu, you know better than anyone he never wanted to fall victim to that curse. Let him and the rest of the zombies pass on properly, like a hero should. Light the match, please. Please.”

You absorb the chaos as if you weren’t there. You’re detached. Nothing feels real, not even as Ike strokes Luca’s hair, distressed and staring at the window, while Luca is just as distanced as you are. Vox’s heroic resolve shattered as he recounted Mysta’s last moments, and Shu, the smart one out of your group, can’t even function anymore. You knew everyone considered themselves each other’s family, but Shu and Mysta were especially close, and it tears you apart to watch Shu finally grasp the terror of the townhouse ambush.

Shu lets go of your hands to cover his face. Through the gaps between bloodstained gloves, you can see the sparkle of tears. He’s crying. “This isn’t possible.”

“Do the right thing,” you say. “Do what he would’ve wanted.”

Shu stands so still. He looks up to the sky, as if it could all go back just by an hour. The clouds just kept rolling.

He picks up a bottle and lights a match.

“This can’t be happening.” A teardrop nearly flicks out the match, but he gathers his strength, and places it by the newspaper wick. The paper flares alive in caution orange.

Shu breathes in. You see his face is scrunched up from crying even as he tries to aim, and it’s like he’s aged years in a matter of minutes. His face has never truly been clean of dirt or gore in weeks, just like the rest of you, but even under the orange fire his eyes go dull. There’s weight under his eyelids, and his mouth is forced into a tight, shaky frown as he exhales.

“I’m so sorry.” Even when it was a zombie Shu always apologized before killing. He treats it as a blessing of what they once were. “I’m so, so sorry. I’m so sorry it had to be this way.”

Shu throws the molotov.

You lose track of Mysta’s silhouette as the townhouse goes up in flames.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

The death of Mysta Rias was the death of the sun, and the world has been even drearier than the desolate land would have you think.

Everyone lives on edge frostily. It’s barely been a month since he passed, but the wound hesitates to close.

Ike is maybe the best adapted to your band of six now as five, but even then you can tell he’s not the same. He’s a champion of reservation. Every sweep of his knives into dead flesh are purposeful, every word spoken is calculated.

You think back on that night you cried in Ike’s arms the first time you confirmed the dead. You still haven’t seen him cry. Strange, since he was the type to get emotional at sappy movies and video games before the first outbreak. You’re worried, but he insists he can keep it together. To be fair, he’s doing an excellent job at not having a conniption, but the way that he acts so much more emotionally distant isn’t exactly inspiring confidence either.

But Vox, for all he puffs himself up about making sure no man gets left behind and all that heroic junk, hesitates far more than his honed swordsmanship would have you think now that Mysta’s gone. It hasn’t gotten in the way of surviving yet, but you have to wonder when it will. He’s gotten indecisive and requires time to think- great for planning, not so much for a live-or-die fight.

Luca’s the one that surprises you. You wouldn’t go so far as to call him happy when your band of friends started roaming the country together, but he was good natured, and was the first to pick himself up from a bad scrape. He had a sly, sideways curve to his lips whenever he laughed, but it’s been so long since you’ve heard it that you’re starting to forget the way his skin curves into smile lines.

He doesn’t smile at all, really. As optimistic Luca was, it was no secret Mysta was the other half of the laughter in your group, and now that Mysta was gone the morale was as well. Luca keeps up his positive attitude as much as he can but it’s rare, and it’s quiet when you see it.

You notice whenever someone lights the campfire, he’s never around to watch it, and no one makes him do it. You don’t think anyone’s ever talked about it out loud, nor has he ever let himself show it. But when he turns around to feel the warmth, Vox is always to his front, blocking off the bright blazes, and sits by him while he cooks game. You have a theory Vox hasn’t given up his hero complex yet, but for as tense as he gets by the fire Luca hasn’t had a breakdown yet either. Unless things change, you won’t bring it up. Your group has never experienced a loss quite like this in the zombie apocalypse, and all things considered, for as awful as the morale it could be much, much worse.

Speaking of much worse, Shu…

He was a wreck when Mysta passed away, and that’s putting it lightly. When you ran from the remains of the burning townhouse and into a forest, your footfalls were punctuated by Shu’s shortened breaths, and he held back hiccups as you left Mysta behind. By the time Vox figured you were safe from the horde and Ike’s feet gave out from exhaustion, Shu’s eyes were shut tight in disbelief.

You barely uttered a word to him before he fell back into sobs, and when you offered a hand he threw himself to you. It was disorienting. You always considered Shu the face of serenity and restraint even in your lives before the apocalypse, and after the outbreak he was always the one that could find the best path to follow for the greater good of all six of you. But now there were only five, and the grief was fresh.

But Shu howled. He clawed himself against your chest in inconsolable wails, and his face was contorted, sore and raw red in splotches of unmuted primality, nearly unrecognizable. There was an animal in your arms. Agonized.

“It’s not possible,” he heaved. His articulation was lost in his eruption. “It can’t be, it can’t be, it can’t be, it can’t be!”

You didn’t have any words to say, and clearly Shu didn’t either. He howled again as his bestial hands clutched around your arm. Nails dug through his gloves and into your skin, and if he clutched you any tighter he’d tear the flesh off the bone straight, a creature of despair. Screaming and howling, and soon enough he was choking on his own spit and the block of mourning in his throat, some ugly peals of tears and snot, and the remains of rot on his hands and blood against the hollows of his ghastly cheek; the ash left in his lungs and the smoke that lingered in his hair, and the flames that licked through his fingers and inside the bottle and outside the glass; the blazes that ate through the wood of the house, the very same hue as his brother’s favorite shirts, his hat, flickering a cycle of brightness and color and roiling heat until he knew the fire had swallowed up what remained of Mysta.

Shu had no choice but to scream. When his throat took away that privilege he mustered up what he could of his vocal chords and churned. All his mouth went dry but he still smacked his tongue against his gums and huffed out seethings and surges of thin breath through gritted teeth, more akin to wheezing than anything else he’d howled but the pure distress gone untouched.

He eventually exhaled himself into an uneasy sleep, but even in sleep his face was still struck with suffering. Rest was more like a pause to a realized horror than it was a reprieve. You and Ike cleaned him up and laid him sideways on the ground for the night- after all, it had been an awful day, and as the moon rose in the sky you know you wouldn’t be getting anywhere after the horrible events, much less with an unconscious Shu.

Luca spent the rest of his day detached from his own experience, even after the shock wore off. When Shu’s composure broke, Vox had attended to Luca, and they quietly wept together while Shu bawled. By the time Shu began to rest, Luca looked into the ground, water bottle in hand.

Vox approached you while Ike started a fire and prepared some rations for the rest of the group. “He’s not taking things awfully, but I’m concerned for him,” he said. “Luca, I mean.”

“I know you mean Luca,” you responded. You couldn’t hide your own exhaustion from the day either.

“As much as I hate to say it, Shu freaking out was to be expected. He and- and Mysta- those two- they were so close. And Luca, too. I thought he would freak out like Shu, but hell, Reader, I cried more than him. I know I get emotional and he’s better at keeping it down than me, but…”

Vox’s eyelids fluttered as he looked up at the dark sky. His eyes were red. “I’m just concerned, that’s all. It’s not like him.”

“Well, living without-” Your exhaustion dragged down your sentence before you could finish it. You thought you were well-adjusted to the death, but your voice caught before you could utter his name. You cleared your throat. “Living like this. There’s going to be a lot of weird changes, and everyone mourns differently.”

“I suppose you’re right.” But Vox didn’t look too pleased to hear that. “We need to protect him.”

“He does plenty of protecting himself. And we look out for each other regardless.”

“Then we should look out for him especially.”

“Of course. I don’t want him to get overexerted.”

“And let’s tap out of any interaction if we can, including looting. Last thing we need is to get into another big fight with the zombies, or worse yet, other survivors.”

“Avoiding fights has always been our M.O.” A chilled breeze ran through the forest. Vox fiddled with his haori. You stared right through him. “Sorry if this comes across as weird. But do you really think laying low is a good idea?”

“It’s dangerous to let anything interfere with us.”

“We’re in the zombie apocalypse, Vox, everything is dangerous. It’s not like I can just wave a wand and poof, we’re immune from the plague. Besides, we’re just two out of s- out of five. We’ll figure it out when it’s not so late, and Luca and Shu are in working condition.” You squinted. “Hey. Enough about them for a second. Has anyone ever asked you if you’re okay, Vox?”

“This isn’t about me.”

“Is now. How are you holding up?”

“What, do you want me to lie to your face? No one’s doing well.” He averted his eyes, and you knew he was averting the question. “I could ask you the same thing. Shu was intense.”

“Tired,” you said. “Just plain tired. I don’t even think I have the energy to properly grieve.” And just like the man standing before you, you averted your eyes as well. “I don’t think I want to either. I don’t know. I miss him a lot, but I don’t have the time to miss him. Not when the apocalypse is literally unfolding in front of us and there’s people taking the brunt of the loss way harder than I am. I wish I could give him the remembrance he deserves.”

Vox nodded slowly. He didn’t say anything in response, and the silence made you feel like you aged hundreds of years in his presence.

“You’re very observant, Reader,” he finally said. “And you spend a lot of time making your own conclusions before you act. That’s smart. But knowing too much prevents you from action, full stop.”

Campfire smoke curls around the chilly air and by Vox’s face. His head was still angled up to look at the sky, and the orange glow against his sharp features weathered him into a dreary oil painting. There was a gash between his cheek and ear where a tree branch hooked him while he evaded a zombie’s grapple, and the light illuminated the soft pink flesh exposed under the cut of skin. The corner of the gash met his thoughtful frown. “Every moment of life teaches you something. I’m wondering when it’ll be too much and we simply can’t go on the way we used to.”

“Might be soon.”

“Today definitely sped it along.”

The fire crackled. You and Vox sat there unmoving, too focused on the blaze and how controlled it was compared to the townhouse.

Even as the tinder burns, your thoughts were still so awry now that the group got smaller. Vox had a point about Luca. You needed to keep an eye out on him in case he’s putting on a brave front. Even then, you didn’t like how Vox deflected your concern, but prodding him would only make it worse, especially when the loss was so fresh.

Your thoughts drifted to Ike, and how you haven’t managed to share a word with him at all since the townhouse burning. He hasn’t cried, you recall, not a single time since the first outbreak. You admired his composure but now that Vox admitted his own fears for the others (and neglected to tell you the ones about himself), you can’t help the unease that settled into your stomach. What were his thoughts like? Everything went off the rails whenever you tried to collect yourself, but if Ike was able to keep it all under wraps, then his mind must be a storm.

Speak of the devil. Ike hands Luca a small can of beans, but the blond stayed by his lonesome. Your best friend took the empty seat beside you, and gives you and Vox your dinner.

You thanked him, and after savoring what little you had of your portion, you asked how he’s doing.

“Just gotta get through another day,” Ike responded.

Then he tipped the last of his beans into his mouth and stared at the fire, just as you did after talking with Vox. He was unreadable as ever, but the only thing you could glean from him with confidence is that he had just as much on his mind as you thought. Maybe even more.

You wished he would just tell you.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

But grass grows over graves, and even if Mysta didn’t have a proper send off, time waits for no one.

Once Shu woke up, his face was a mess of bleariness and exhaustion. Something in his bright eyes froze over during the night. Amethyst faded to plastic.

“We’ll keep moving,” he declared, and his voice chilled you to the core. He called out the order as a leader, not a friend, without the care or delicacy he always granted to your group. His emotion died with Mysta.

(And you saw Vox ready himself to refute, but once he met those purple eyes filled with something unearthly, he shank under Shu’s presence.)

Days pass. All of them are spent on the road. The group spends as little time resting as possible just to get a few extra miles out to your next destination.

Shu and Luca say it’s to get away, but they end the sentence differently. Shu says to get away from the zombies. Luca doesn’t finish his thought at all.

It’s no surprise that Vox opposes it. The more distance between the group and the townhouse, the more he speaks his mind.

But Shu is determined to go further, just as much as Vox is convinced everyone needs to lay low.

And in all the time you’ve known these men, you’ve never seen any of them fight against one another quite like this. Vox always concedes, but not before Shu spits venom and he flings it right back. Their words are always about the plan, their future, where the group is going and why don’t they wait out the zombies instead of these hourly skirmishes on the road; but everyone can tell there’s more lying in subtext than the literal argument. You’ve seen the way Vox grits his teeth and musters up his courage whenever he’s about to tell Shu off, and you know that disgusted glare Shu gives Vox whenever he brings up hiding from the zombies.

Ike usually ends up being the one to break up their fights. One dismal evening while he lectured them both about teamwork and other platitudes, you and Luca sat next to each other. He’s a big guy, but he’s lost a lot of weight from rationing, and his expression looks like an abandoned dog more often than not these days.

He talks quietly, but plainly. “Shu hates me, doesn’t he?”

“What?” The bluntness startles you. “Luca, listen to yourself. He could never.”

“He could.”

“He wouldn’t,” you insist. “He’s gone through a lot, and he’s not taking it well, but I know it’s always because he wants to protect you. All of us.”

“So is Vox. But he just shuts him down without a thought. You ever wonder why, Reader?”

“To get away from the zombies,” you recite. That’s always his reasoning. Staying put in one place just means more time for zombies to gather at the scent of the living.

“So would finding a secure shelter, like how Vox says.” Luca sits with his knees close to his chest, and watches from a distance at the quelled fight. Vox says something, and you can see Shu’s face contort even though you can’t hear what he says. “But he doesn’t even listen to him. He doesn’t even listen to you, Reader, when you try to break it up.” He holds his legs closer to himself. “I don’t know if he’s ever listened to me. Or anyone.”

“He would if you told him you feel like that. He’d understand.”

“Would he really?” You nearly answer that before you realize the question is rhetorical. “You’ve got eyes, Reader. Be attentive like how I know you always are and look at how he looks at us. Me and Vox.”

You try to follow Luca’s request but Ike is speaking, and Shu’s eyes close.

He elaborates. “It’s not a nice look.”

“He’s stressed.”

“Then why doesn’t he ever look at you like that? Or even better, why does he listen to Ike only, and how come it never seems to stick?”

“He’s going through a lot.”

“We all are.”

Across the camp, you watch Ike run a hand through his hair. Shu is still talking, and Vox sighs.

“I think he blames us.”

You grab Luca’s arm. “Don’t say that.”

“Why not? It’s obvious anyways.”

“Because that’s our friend.”

“He hasn’t acted like one for a long time.”

“Because he’s lost so much.”

“We were all friends,” Luca snaps. “We lost just as much. Hell! I was in the house! We were together! And then we got separated, and unlike someone Vox actually tried to help him out until- and I should’ve- we saw him get bit, and I couldn’t- I just, I-”

Luca shuts himself up. Your hand falls from his arm to his palm and squeezes. No life returns your gesture.

You sit in the stagnant silence.

“I’m sorry.” Luca lowers his head. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Get it off your chest, Luca. I won’t hurt you.”

“No, I don’t think I should.” He unwraps his legs, and stands up from the ground beside you. “I’m not going to say it and be an awful friend, even if he’s acting like one.”

Before you could ask what the hell that was supposed to mean, Luca already turned his back, and you sat alone from the argument as he walked away from everything.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

Despite all their bickering, Shu and Vox lead the group through travel. It’s more likely that the bickering is the exact reason why. The fire iron and rebar push aside the greenery, until Vox stops with his rebar casting the brush aside. “Fucking finally.”

You catch up and look across the hill. Buildings. This used to be a small rest town in a clearing between the hills before the outbreak, but now the bright signs are dimmed out and dirtied. Not a soul lurks in the abandoned town, including the dead.

“We’re not stopping,” Shu says.

“Piss off, Shu. I’m tired.”

“You’re never going to be well-rested.”

“Then how does safe sound?”

“Not possible no matter where you go.”

“But safer than on the road-”

“Guys,” Ike interrupts. “Quit acting like toddlers.”

Vox pouts and Shu squints. None of the three want to get the next word in.

So you speak up instead. “We’re running out of supplies. If we don’t find any more food soon, then we won’t even be able to continue on the road.”

“Reader has a point,” Ike agrees.

Shu’s expression sours. “Fine. We’ll look around, but make it quick. Camping out here is a great way to get robbed.”

“Then we’ll move together and keep watch for one another,” Vox declares, and he smiles. “Welcome to the correct side, Reader, Ike. It’s good to have you on board.”

Ike rolls his eyes. “Don’t drag me into your petty fights.” You fight the urge to quip he’s already in the mess as the mediator.

But the group traverses the hills and enters the remains of the town. The ground is littered with garbage strewn about in the haste for its citizens to flee town- or for the ill-fated, become the corpses dragging along the cement.

The zombies here shamble along independent from one another. That’s the best you could ask for. The only consistent thing about zombie behavior is their danger when in swarms. Alone, they’re nothing but fetid flesh barely clinging onto the skeleton, ready to fall into a hundred pieces at one strike, but when accompanied by others? Fodder makes up for each others’ weaknesses, and no matter how competent or skilled you are, one human is nothing to a crowd of zombies on the warpath.

The zombies of this town haven’t synced up with one another, and you’d like to keep it that way. While on the road, you’ve had plenty of skirmishes with small groups of zombies, but the last time your band faced off against a proper herd, you lost one.

A single zombie clambers to the front of your group. You hear metal against fabric as Ike pulls out his cleaver from its sheath, ready to do the deed, but before he can advance Shu already has his fire poker in his hands and the business end driven through the eyes of the zombie. He twists, assuring the brain is too punctured to allow the body to rise again, and the poker is back at rest. He barely even apologizes to the body as everyone trudges on.

Behind his back, Ike resheathes his weapon. He squints through his glasses, and you can read the confusion between his green eyes. Ike doesn’t meet your glance, but his expression is welcome, as unfortunate as it is. At least you’re not the only one that noticed how out of character Shu has been lately. You’re getting a sinking feeling about him.

However, the moment passes as soon as it appeared, and you and the rest of your friends rove onwards until you come across a set of stairs erring into the earth, surrounded by a dirtied glass entrance.

“Who would’ve thought?” You wonder aloud. “I never would’ve guessed this little town had a subway system.”

Vox raises his hand along the cool glass. “This could be good. The entrance is camouflage pretty well considering the damage of this town, and there might be some preserved food in vending machines. All we need to do is break ‘em.”

“And if there isn’t any food, it’s still a big area,” Ike adds. “Plenty of space and a roof over our heads.”

Luca looks down the staircase. It’s dark, but not unnavigable. The edges of the sidewalk are lined with yellow paint stripes, and features small lights along the walls from a backup generator, most likely. “It’s a good hiding place,” he says.

Luckily for everyone, Shu can already tell he’s defeated, and doesn’t put up much of a fight before you all descend down the stairs.

Not even ten minutes later Luca found a vending machine and smashed it apart with his spiked bat. Vox unwrapped a pack of Oreos with a smug smile.

The subway was no longer in operation and the trains themselves were abandoned, but you found a sign with a map of the station. The subway connected the major areas of the town together, and could be used as secret passages through the ruins.

And most interesting, there were even less zombies underground than under the sun.

“I wonder if the stairs confused them?” Luca says to himself. “Surely a few of them figured it out, since we killed some since we entered the subway, but it might be too complex for herds to come through. Or the architecture itself is confusing.”

You weren’t about to question it. This was one of the most peaceful environments you’ve entered since the outbreak, and there was no way you would ignore the moment to catch your breath, even if you can still cut through the tension with a knife.

You enter first watch with the drifting bond between everyone on your mind, and when Ike relieves you for his watch, you fall asleep in record time.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

An arm jostles you awake. “Reader. Wake up, zombies.”

You curse, albeit a little groggily, but in a flash you’re on your feet. You thumb under your sleeping pad and grab your climbing picks. “I thought we were safe?”

“Not at all.” Your eyesight adjusts after you start walking, but you can already recognize the voice as Ike. Out of the corner of your eye you can spot Shu trying to shake Luca awake, and Vox gathering everyone’s things together. “They’re flooding in fast. Herds of them. Like they’re all on the same wavelength.”

“Like the townhouse.”

It dawns on you and you say it without thinking. Ike’s shoulders freeze over. “Don’t say that. Not so loudly.”

“Fine. What do you need me to do?”

“Get your things together. They’re not here yet, but they will be soon, around the corner we came.”

Vox approaches halfway through zipping a backpack together. “We should take the next right corridor. I remember that leads to a different exit.”

“You sure it’s not the same one the zombies are coming in through?” You ask.

“Positive.”

“We need to stay ahead of the herd,” Shu said, Luca in tow. “No fighting unless absolutely necessary. If we get started now we should be able to get away without overexerting ourselves. Ready?”

No words need to be exchanged. You leave the clearing just as you found it.

A collected groan follows behind you, and a chill runs down your spine. You’ve never heard so many zombies, and never so man all in harmony. The moans arrange together in the cavernous halls, bouncing off the cement and down the station.

The urgency rises once the cries grow closer. Vox breaks out in a run, then Luca, and Shu behind him.

“Right,” Vox calls, and dives at the turn. A zombie greets him. He drives his rebar into its head and flings it away without a second thought like a lancer.

The zombie smashes against a sight with arrows to different stations. Ike swerves out of the way. “Fork ahead, where now?”

“Right? I mean-” He goes one way to view a sign, then sprints the other. “Straight! Straight!”

The dead sing. You can’t think to look back but the smell of rot is suffocating.

Your foot falls under the concrete ground in time with your family, and in time with the stumbling zombies approaching faster than you’ve ever felt before.

Luca halts in his tracks, and you thump against his back. Your mouth parts to speak but your eyes fall upon the exit.

Or rather, the lack of exit.

Boulders of broken concrete hide the stairwell from daylight.

Hot breath strangles you, and you turn with your picks in hand. Swathes of the dead are fixated on your group.

Ike runs straight-on to the choir. You scream out as one reaches for him before he turns at the last fork in the road.

You cut your scream off halfway when you follow him without a second thought.

A hand covered in dirt and mold grasps against the sleeve of your jacket. You swivel and sink your pick into the limb, and the wrist pops off under your blade. The hand goes limp and falls from the fabric.

You hear footsteps behind you, and when Luca speaks up you’re full of relief even if only for a moment. “What now?”

“Just run,” You say back, more of a guess than an order.

Shu drifts in front of you. “Where are we?”

“Give me a moment, I’m trying to think!”

“We don’t have time, Vox!”

“I know, Shu, shut up!”

“Going left!” Ike shouts, and you all move without question.

But you realize only after the zombies cut away the turn that the station turns more decrepit on this side. The tunnels are lined with debris and the floor crumbles away along the painted stripes.

And before you can find a new route, you see a puff of dust from the ceiling.

“The roof!” You shout. You’re gasping to breathe now, and your words stumble upon the exhale.

Shu’s eyes roll up to the flickering light, and you both see the elongated crack above your heads. It’s been in decay for years. How unlucky. How simply, brutally, lethally unlucky.

“Hurry!” He pleads. He’s at the front of the pack, followed by Vox and Luca alongside each other. Ike trails behind you.

The crack in the roof follows your every footstep even as ancient instinct kicks in. Adrenaline shoots through your veins and pushes you forward, accompanied by bits of debris tangling in your hair. The flooring turns from concrete to tile, and with the dirtied mosaic comes a glimmer of hope. Surely you must be going the right way.

The zombies’ cries are loud, but the squeak of your shoe against the tiles is louder. There must be something beyond.

But the ceiling splintering out is the loudest of all.

It all happens at once:

The way that Shu turns at the sound and can’t even get one of his own out before he sees your face-

The powdered cement turning to hail in the blink of an eye-

Your war cry through gritted teeth as you launch off, the fastest you’ve ever run before-

A knife unsheathed in in warmth and frigidity in your midst-

Luca, hated, blamed, petrified.

Your brain catches up through the curtain of scrap. It’s all because of Luca. Even at his most vulnerable, you’ve never thought of him as weak. Nonetheless, his eyes are dead purple crusted against his ghost-white face, and his lips force open while a vein along his neck strains to scream out your name, but he lets out just one small, throaty heave. A miserable noise.

It silences you.

You know it, and he does too. A chunk of ceiling drops mere inches from your last step. Vox approaches, calls out your name before he’s even comprehended the truth before him. You see the dark in his pale eyes tighten into a thin reptilian pupil and he reaches out in desperation.

The last of the ceiling shatters. A broken crag hammers into his palm instead. All you hear is Shu finally get out the scream before the remains of the underground roof shuts you out from your family.

The dead rises in volume. The glimmer of hope evaporates.

You force yourself against the barricade, but your weight is no match for the pile of rubble, and you watch the zombies shamble forward with your back against the wall. The only person you have left brushes plaster away from his eyes with one arm and brandishes a knife in the other.

Ike Eveland looks like hell alive.

It would almost be hilarious if you weren’t facing a subterranean grave. His face is dirtied with mud and rubble, and the legs of his trousers are matted in blood, rot, and dirt, but even then, this is still your best friend. The years you’ve spent alongside him blend together. His once-delicate hands now bear countless scars from travel and fights, but the contours of his face are recognizable even through the dust that mars his skin.

This is an unwinnable situation. You’re locked in checkmate, but Ike stands next to you.

You speak. “No more exits, right?”

Ike swipes at his face again, and the sleeve of his mantle comes back grayer than before. “I think we both know how this ends, Reader.”

“Yeah. I do.”

You both watch the leading zombie shuffle one foot forward, and each of its followers mimic the motion.

You notice Ike’s hand against his face out of the corner of your eye. Then how his shoulders jerk up for a moment, before setting themselves in place, stony and rigid.

His words break your heart. “I don’t know what to do.”

“Me neither.”

“I wish I could refuse all this- all this-”

He sniffs.

You move without thinking, and your mind is set. You wrap your arms around Ike.

He doesn’t even raise his hands. He just leans against your shoulder lifelessly, and lets the tears fall.

You rub his back as he hiccups into your shirt. How long has he been keeping this locked up? You ache for him and all his repression as his body goes limp against yours, the only thing keeping him standing.

“It’ll be okay.” That’s only a lie you can hope is the truth. “After all this. We’ll be okay. Shu and Vox and Luca, too. It’s a straight shot now that all the zombies are on us.”

“I’m going to miss you. All of you.”

“We’re together.”

“I’m sorry this is how it ends.”

“We still have options.”

He scoffs, even as his voice cracks through his quiet crying. “We’re trapped, Reader. There’s no way out.”

“We can still go out on our terms,” you say. You place your hand over his, the one that holds the knife. “Once we’re gone, the zombies are going to search for the other three.”

You squeeze one last time, and break away from the hug. You look upon the wave of dead flesh and rot, and draw your weapons. “I don’t want them to fight any more than they have to.”

“That’s hopeless.”

“It’s all I can do.”

“How are you so calm about this?”

“I’m not sure myself,” you admit. “It’s just that right now, I know I’m in a losing battle, and I accept that. But I don’t accept just laying down and dying like that.”

Your climbing picks cross together as you ready your eerily still mind. The blades scrape against each other. Metal sings. “And I just want to handle things calmly. After all this time, I learned that from you.”

“I don’t know how you can just remember things like that when we’re about to die.”

“I suppose I only die on my own terms. Hey.”

Ike stumbles to his feet. His knife is pointed to the ground. With a tranquility that evaded you all throughout the apocalypse, you steady his posture and guide the blade up to the dead beyond.

Your hand rises up his arm as his eyes close, and he silently murmurs to himself. You rub his shoulder. “You good?”

Ike exhales. His body lowers as he does, and with the breath comes a relaxed posture. This is the most at peace he’s been since the outbreak strangled the past world.

His eyelashes rise. Stormy green seas focus upon the staggering zombies.

“No.” Ike’s lip trembles. But he’s set on the zombies ahead, and a bolt of lightning crosses through his eyes. “But I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Good man.”

“There’s about five of them leading the pack in that corner. We can pick them off and get some more breathing room.”

“Understood, Mr. Tactical.”

“Don’t call me that.” Under the exhaustion and the fear and the grittiness that comes with crying, you hear some of that classic, joking exasperation. You snicker to yourself, but the bittersweet smile remains.

“Mr. Eveland, then.” Your sight hones in on one zombie to your right. Its jaw slides apart as it follows the scent of the fresh living. “It’s been an honor, Ike.”

“Likewise, Reader, we’ll do what we can.”

“Let’s go.”

At your command, you both launch off, laser-focused on the individual dead.

Ike kicks a corpse down to knock it prone, then rakes his knife into the skull, and that’s all you can see before you throw yourself into the fray.

A one-on-one is simple. The zombie in front of you holds out a decrepit hand, perfect for your climbing pick to detach. It stumbles at the force and grants you an opening to clobber its brain in.

Rinse and repeat.

You dive between the steps of your latest kills to divert attention in time to slay another and stay moving. The trick is to use gravity to your advantage. They aren’t smart enough to stand their ground, and when they inevitably fold from the pressure of your picks, it’s like the zombies present themselves for you can finish the job.

The next target swipes at you. You jut one pick down upon the corpse and one more meets the brittle skull. This gives you enough time to duck under a lunge, sweep the leg, and aim to kill.

Something grabs your leg before you plunge the pick in. A body, dismembered from the waist up.

You yelp as yellow-black teeth rise, and frantically kick. The zombie holds on tight, but when you regain your senses, it doesn’t even see the blade incoming before the soft brain squashes in. Splatters of gore and bits of chunky nerve endings sprays against your frame while your sweat mixes in with the stench of rot and muddy mildew.

You step back to reposition. Ike’s clothing is covered in blackened blood, and you watch him plunge his knife into the chests of whatever unfortunate beast approaches next. He twists and yanks out, then goes in for a final blow between the eyes. He has a rhythm established despite the shades of rot against his mantle and shirt. It almost looks routine.

His next victim’s head rolls to the ground and breaks apart like porcelain. The brain is still in place, but the elongated gash through the nervous system confirms it would never rise again.

But one gets the jump on Ike while his back is turned, and he yells out as he thrashes. He swivels on his heel. The zombie maneuvers around even as his hands push back in a fierce gridlock. It snaps its broken jaws in Ike’s face as it snarls, and sinks its claws in. Gunk travels through its saliva.

“I got your back!” While Ike retreats, you trip the dead that crawls in front of you, and dash to his side. You drag your picks into the nape and back of the zombie’s head, and the creature goes limp just in time for Ike to shove it against the wall.

Ike catches his breath, brushes his hand against his arm, and meets your concerned look with a nod in silent gratitude. “They’re gaining on us,” he says. “You don’t need to kill all of them, disabling them is fine!”

“Got it!”

But even that is easier said than done. There are so many zombies in the herd, it looks like you haven’t even left a dent, and your space is getting limited. You hack through the edges of the herd and pray that your wild swipes cut through a limb or two.

“We’re losing turf!”

“Yeah, and I- gaah!”

Ike heaves. Your switch flips from ‘kill zombies’ to ‘check Ike’.

You follow his rasp to the corner of the room, where the ceiling crashed down. His back is pressed against the tiled wall, and he struggles to peel off his mantle.

You don’t even need to ask. His hand clutches his arm, and the chunk of flesh missing from it.

“Holy shit, Ike!” You can’t even mute yourself. Millions of warning bells go off in your head. The internals are coated in a dark membrane from where it meets the oxygen in the air, less red than it is purple, and his veins beside the mutilation rise in an ugly green.

You reach your hands out as you rip off a cut of fabric from your sleeve. “No. No, this can’t be happening-“

He slaps your hand away before you can begin to bandage the blood loss, and immediately crumples. “Don’t do that! It’s the virus!”

“There’s no way it spreads that fast-“

“It will. I don’t want you to have that.” Ike sucks in air through his teeth as he sinks to the floor.

“How did you even-“ you cut yourself off. “It was the zombie that jumped you, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah. I didn’t even notice the pain when it happened.” He curses in his native language. The green in his veins rise, and branches sprout from the veins under his graying skin, like tree bark. The rapid decay of the outbreak. “Oh, that’s not good.”

The din of the battle behind you is entirely forgotten as you focus on the uneven flesh, the imprint of the bite upon his mangled arm, how nearly every level of the wound has turned to the same rot of the zombies.

Ike’s breathing is labored. The center of his shirt is soaked with the rot of those he killed, and rises and falls shakily.

He smacks his lips, and you’re struck with the realization that talking is a strain. “I have a favor to ask of you.”

You crouch by his side and nod.

“The sheath, on my belt,” he says. “Can you unfasten it?”

You comply without question even through your blurring eyes. I can’t refuse a request from a dead man, you think, and then the weight of your thought slams you.

Ike’s unscathed hand rises from the wound, coated in slick purple gore, and brushes against the handles of his knives. The membrane pools together into beads along the handle. His fingers stop at the last slot in his sheath, and the tip of the cleaver is dyed in the beginnings of the rot.

You think you’re about to vomit your heart out.

“No.” Your voice wavers. “No. No, I can’t do this.”

“You can,” Ike comforts you, and you feel even more like trash. You should be the one comforting him instead. “I trust you.”

And that’s what gets the tears to spill out from your eyelashes. “But I can’t kill you.”

“You said it best earlier. Dying on your own terms, right?”

“But I can’t kill you.”

“I don't want to be one of them,” he admits. “Look around, Reader, we’re surrounded, and we both know there’s no way out. And being one of them, it’s unnatural. It’s just messed up. If I’m going to die, I want to know I’m at rest. None of this- whatever all this is.”

His head lolls to the side. “And I want to see Mysta again.”

The chorus of the dead accompanies Ike’s heavy breathing and your weeping. You are a helpless child.

“I’ll help you,” Ike adds. “I’ll tell you how I usually confirm the dead. You’re my best friend. I trust you.”

It sickens you.

You let out a puff of air as you draw your palm over your eyes. The gore across your face smears over with your tears.

You take the cleaver in your hands.

“Thank you.”

“You deserve better than this.”

“It’s the best we can do. I’m glad.”

“This is so fucked up.” You draw the cleaver with both hands, as if that would end the shaking. Even as you shut your eyes, you can’t get your resolve in place.

“The trick is to be fast,” Ike says, and it disgusts you at how easily he says it. It disgusts you even more when you know the decay is spreading as he speaks, all the way into his raspy voice. “It’s all in the wrist. That’s what keeps it precise instead of clumsy. It’s where all the force is. Don’t swing wide. Just center it where you want to hit. How are you doing?”

“Not good.” Your breathing deepens, a last-ditch effort to remain calm. “I’m scared.”

You force your eyes open. The world floods in white, then falls into the blurred grays of the subway station.

Ike is already so much worse for wear. The bite is entirely blackened, and the discolored skin stretches from his arm to his shoulder, creeping along what little you can see of his neck.

His eyelids are shut, gentle aside from the furrow in his brow.

“Me too.”

Even with his feigned nonchalance, there is so much sorrow laced between his words.

“I’m going to miss you.”

“I’ll be safer,” Ike says, and even he doesn’t seem so convinced by it. “Thank you for everything. I’ll miss you too.”

“You’ll always be my best friend.”

You raise the cleaver.

“Please tell Mysta I’m thinking of him. We all are, always.”

“We’ll be watching.”

Ike’s head is lowered, but you still see his attempt at a smile.

You black out as you swing.

There is no memory left of his last moment. It’s all too much to bear.

You cover your face, because looking at him is simply- just- too- much. Blood mixes in with your eyelashes, and you taste metal on your lips.

You don’t even have the energy to scream, or cry, or do anything. You are a husk, and you do not hear Ike’s cleaver clatter to the floor. There is nothing.

Your body moves without your command. You step back, and even though you refuse to look, you know you’re backing away from Ike. Your heart hammers, and so do your limbs. It spreads in droves, this pressure of heartbreak, constricting you and squeezing you apart.

Daggers fall into your skin. You snap out of your stupor.

But once you identify the daggers as teeth, you wish you didn’t.

You tear your hands away from your face as a glob of rot (his rot, you realize, and you can’t even begin to wrap your head around that) flicks out in an arc. The hammering- it’s claws raking against your flesh and tearing you apart like meat.

While you accompanied Ike in his last moments, the outbreak stopped for no one, least of all you. You are no invulnerable main character. You blocked out the roaring chorus as he lay, but it continued outside of your little bubble, and with your back turned they absorbed the last of your free space for a perfect siege.

You veer your head away out of instinct when the teeth pull away, and takes a bite of muscle out with it. The pain is blinding hot- you finally regain your voice in time to screech, but it drowns out through the zombie moans.

A second set of jaws snaps you up. Already your head is spinning, and when you see the sinew from the corner of your vision you resist the urge to faint. If you take a look at the broken skin and extruding vine-veins again, you know you’re going to black out again, and never wake up.

You force your sight to anything else.

You make the mistake of looking into zombie eyes for the third time in your life.

But this time you don’t retain the memory, either. Because for as little time you have left, how could you live knowing that your best friend’s peaceful green eyes snapped open in terror in his final moment?

You choke out, and whether it’s from pain or grief or pure fear, you can’t even tell. Just that it all mixes together into a toxic blend, the poison of your undoing.

And to think, you had the gall to meet such a grisly end head-on minutes ago.

On the ground, next to his limp foot, the steel edge of Ike’s cleaver winks at you.

It’s all in the wrist, he told you, and your blood burns into dust. But Ike is gone, now, and for as horrified as his melted remains were, he was certainly watching your every move.

And the infection is unnatural, and climbs along your shoulder, and there is no agony in the world like this fate.

And you wanted to see Mysta again.

With the last of your strength you regain your legs, and kick off one zombie from your leg. It topples and gives you enough time to shake off another that has you grappled.

The weight shift combined with your blood loss makes you hit the ground hard, but you scrape at the floor nonetheless. You are so weak, and you struggle, so focused on the glint of the blade that you ignore your skin crack apart like mud in a drought.

You reach, bloodied and battered, and so close to rest.

The washed light shines off the cleaver. Its reflection teases you as a monster snatches your foot and send you back into the horde like a toy.

You emit your final scream, and that too dies as hundreds of hands hold you back. Your body and blood is swallowed by the herd of dead.

When you can’t keep your eyes open anymore, the dark in your mind rearranges to replicate the cleaver. Then it flattens, and you see the haunted remains of Ike Eveland between it.

The only sound left is teeth meeting bone.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

#ike eveland x reader #ike eveland #ike eveland angst #luca kaneshiro #mysta rias #shu yamino #vox akuma #luxiem x reader #luxiem #nijisanji x reader #luxiem angst #4402 writes #bsprites #STEALTH PROTOMEN REFERENCE BABEY #this is a bit clumsy but i'm glad it was over 10k words i wonder if saying so much is just my style now #how much of a coinky dink is it that i was binging luca's twd streams and a bunch of southern gothic music when i was writing this #i'll post the full au notes i had operating tomorrow i think

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ohwell-itsme-but-danganronpa · 2 months

Text

The age-old question: Is Kokichi the villain?

Ves: this one whiplashes back and forth from objectively correct to SO SO WRONG so much idk how to feel

Me: well, they're right on their main point and simplified some things to get there and at the end he's an anti-hero, not a villain

Ves: i get being frustrated with woobfication but acting like the cast NEVER treated him unfairly is. UHHHHH Kokichi Is An Asshole, But! - my thesis statement also "bragging about how he got two people killed without a hint of genuine remorse" not a HINT!? NOTHING?? YOU CAN'T REMEMBER A SINGLE THING FROM THAT POSTTRIAL THAT SEEMED REMORSEFUL TO YOU!? 'start looking at him as a villain instead of a clueless victim' this is NOT a zero sum game both of those options r wrong

Me: they treated him Like That before he earned it and in his speech at the end of the 4th trial there's a portion when he says he's just stepping up to what's expected from him

Ves: NO LITERALLYYY THE SCENE IN THE DEATH ROAD LIKE….

Me: he was asking to be executed too, but sure, no remorse

Ves: what are we defining as remorse?? because that seems like literally the most remorseful a person could get to me oohhh i forgot remorse can mean REGRET yeah he's not very regretful neither is gonta! they're both crushed w guilt but that's not the same i guess

Me: the whole. everyone believing him when the lies fit what they want to see. bullshit he's a liar until he's saying he's evil, until he's taking something back, because surely he wouldn't lie about lying without saying the catchphrase

Ves: yeag like,,,when it's 'half my lies are told with good intentions' and 'i'm just trying to give gonta good advice, he'll get killed being so naive' and 'monokuma is going to make you suffer for cooperation like he did kaede' and so on and so on…. that's DEFINITELY a lie guys

Me: he left room to be seen through, he gave hints, he gave so many opportunities for them to get it, that he can't be doing it openly, but they went in with pre-packaged distrust specifically for him I love the theory that Tsumugi had them brainwashed to be opposed to him as a default to push him into his role

Ves: you're right but i wouldn't even describe it as HINTS, he has TWO SEPARATE MONOLOGUES about the danger of public cooperation that honestly monokuma should've clocked [sob emoji] but that's getting more into danganronpa writing than kokichi's morals i love giving him stuff that makes them inherently unnerved by him from the beginning

Me: this is also related to how much of "script" I believe there was for the game, I think they were given cues for how they're supposed to feel, little unconscious suggestions, a vague outline set with motives, nothing actually set in stone, the flashback making machine wouldn't need multiple options if there was a whole defined script that's expected to be executed to a t

Ves: i always thought tsumugi's claim that everything was scripted didn't. make sense. but i can never really feel out how much of it was

Me: she gave them roles, and then left them to improvise, she also has a lot of lines that cue you in on what she wants you to think of other characters, she wouldn't need to be doing that if she already controlled what you thought of them, but she's checking in, if you'll agree

Ves: truuuuee the way she talks about gonta always makes me shudder and the way she talks about kokichi always makes me giggle SNDJBHSHF she's sooo bitchy about him i love her

Me: she wants to shoehorn him into being a classic antagonist so bad and he just doesn't fit, like, I could swear she makes a reference to Nagito at least once when talking about him

Ves: THE WAY SHE TALKS ABT RANTAROU FITS THAT REALLY WELL TOO she KEEPS bringing up him being the fanservice character a playboy and he keeps shooting her down

Me: She fucking hates Rantaro and it's so funny, what did he dooo that finally puts her calling him a normie in a context, he ruined a cliché she was trying to pull, that's punishable by death

Ves: it's like when she yells at shuuichi in the FTEs for trying to say she isn't plain

Sini: I will say this, even though he did in fact show remorse in that instance I can’t blame the others for still being bitchy and pissed with him. Even if he had a good reason, which he did, what he did was still majorly fucked up. He was an asshole throughout the whole trial, an asshole to Gonta until that one moment, and then led him to his brutal death. I’m not saying how they treated him at that moment was good, but they aren’t really going to be thinking too rationally after all that. Ig one thing you could say is that they tend to not treat other culprits like Kirumi that way, but in that case I’d say they should’ve overall had written the characters reactions post trial or what not differently in general

Ves: oh no i absolutely think how the characters treat kokichi after ch4 is justified. i just think the op's casual dismissal is. UHHHH shoulda specified i was talking abt them and not the cast, sorry! kokichi was absolutely an asshole and deserved to get treated like one, but i think op fell too in line with the characters

Me: it was a situation where everyone sucked, nobody ever could begin to be equipped to deal with this shit, and so, nobody handled it well the end of the world was involved

Sini: Yeah, like, he’s a liar. Everyone only assumed he must be lying when trying to be helpful or didn’t mean well when he was spitting straight facts. No one bothered to listen to him. I get he’s an asshole, but fuck man, they cozied up to Maki. Wth is her excuse?

Ves: maki is the wall i always run into here maki is just as mean as he is and FARRR more dangerous but. her being an assassin was added later than her being a waifu

Mauri: i love maki. but in canon why the fuck did everyone love her she choked him out after he revealed that she was a fucking TRAINED KILLER and no one was worried abt that ??? kodaka dont make every single female character waifu bait challenge (almost impossible bc miu my love my life)

Ves: they literally cut to the next day when they're all looking through her lab and not ONCE do they comment on how that debacle…ended. DID ANYONE HELP HIM???

Sini: If Kokichi was a girl, I swear, things would’ve been a little different

Ves: if kokichi was a girl but written the same ppl'd say he EATS BABIES if he was written like kodaka likes to write women he WOULD eat babies but it'd be like, fine

Sini: Kokichi literally revealed a threat to the cast. And yet they still treat him like he’s this big villain….WHAT? Okay, but literally people treat Celeste better than Kokichi. Celeste is worse than Kokichi in everyway (personality wise)

Me: Celeste is evil in such a simple way, it's easy to brush over she's just greedy, a materialistic girl in a materialistic world, who could blame her? murder? god forbid women do anything

Sini: She’s very slay, but it’s just shitty cause you know people only excuse her cause she’s a cute girl

#danganronpa #ndrv3 #kokichi ouma #kokichi oma #miu iruma #gonta gokuhara #tsumugi shirogane #rantaro amami #shuichi saihara #kirumi tojo #maki harukawa #nagito komaeda #celestia ludenberg #dr thh #talking canon

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izzyspussy · 1 year

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About Me!

Hi, I'm Jack! I'm 29 and I use he/him pronouns. You might know me as @/calicojackofficial - which still exists as a writing and art sideblog, now @calicoy. On this blog you'll find fandom and personal posts. Everything is tagged for easy filtering.

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mdhwrites · 28 days

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Star Rail 2.1: Rising Like a Phoenix (Spoiler Free)

This is one of those sorts of drops for a franchise that makes the bad content look worse. I dislike 2.0 MORE after 2.1 and for a pretty obvious reason: I like Aventurine now. I know for a lot of people that might be a non controversial statement but I did an almost a scene by scene breakdown for how much I didn't think he worked in 2.0. That anything they were going for was entirely flawed.

But they got back on track and now gave us arguably one of the best main content drops in all of Star Rail... But definitely not the best to me. I still have issues with this patch but compared to where I thought Penacony started, the fact that it's now well surpassed the Loufu already as a story is miraculous.

Admittedly, it's probably rivaling starting to try and rival the Loufu and Belobog separately in cutscene length at this point. There are definitely times during this patch where they could have used the FF 14 "Multiple cutscenes are about to play in a row" warning because BOY does this patch talk a lot. It has a lot to say which is good but...

Well, unfortunately without spoilers, I'm going to sound very negative about this patch. I swear I do like it. It has interesting character work and world building to it, some of which would have been hard not to run into these sorts of problems with, and the topics are good enough to warrant real discussions of them. There's just one major problem with it.

Their engine and the fact that this still needs to go on a phone.

Presentation is the death of this patch. I want to do a whole blog on this but I've once heard a reviewer say that one of the hardest things to make interesting is "Two people talking in a room." I actually disagree with that statement, almost anything done entirely alone (which ironically is one of the parts the game tries harder with when that eventually happened) is harder but... It's not a bad supposition. After all, if all they're doing is talking, not even arguing, you can end up just having it feel like an exposition dump. Even if it's entirely character work, it can still feel like we're being told a lot instead of being shown it.

And this patch has a lot of moment, especially early on with Aventurine, where it would get thrown back with "Show, don't tell." Not just because it's character stuff but ANYTHING to break up what is going on in these scenes. There's way too many, that chain into each other, that are just people standing in environments we've already spent time in (or are just not that visually interesting in general) just standing there, talking. Some are better, even great at this in the patch, but not enough of it is. I actually had to take a break midway through it because it was all coming in as a tiring drone that was giving me a headache from how much it was just getting on my nerves for being boring.

And I kind of have to assume part of that is a concession to the mobile market which admittedly, I'm not a part of. Star Rail is literally the first gacha game I've EVER stuck with for more than a week. I play it on my PC which runs almost anything that hits the market at top graphics even four years after I got it. So I probably feel this weird disconnect of Star Rail both being a AA game and it being a mobile game more than some might.

But it also begs the question of how much could they do in scenes? How much does their engine support that? The majority of cutscenes in the game are pre-rendered after all. There are VERY few gestures built into their dialogue system, at least as far as I can tell, which mostly come down to "Arms crossed, arms dropped, maybe a couple small facial expression changes." It all makes for a very monotonous presentation that can only be saved so much with the writing.

Even in a book, this would be most unacceptable. You'd still expect breaks from the dialogue to get into a character's head, detail their fidgets, their thoughts, show what others are doing and giving character flairs to add personality to scenes. Just SOMETHING to make it feel less boring and monotonous.

Which is the weird Catch 22 of this patch. It is the sharpest Star Rail has ever been with its writing... But it's also potentially its most boring. Again, not all of it and the climax is heck of a thing, but it's still one of the few times where I just wanted the game to shut up and let me do ANYTHING. It's one of the few times I've ever needed a break during main story content besides when the Loufu pissed me off in 1.1. Being angry would still have been more of a reaction than a lot of what this patch was causing out of me.

But the boring elements will also fade and I'll be left with the best moments in my memory so I suspect that unlike 2.0, where I actually keep forgetting about how good the Firefly stuff is because the bad felt more important to me and stuck with me more, I'll forget the bad and keep the good. You know, like the fact that Welt probably gives his best performance in the entire game in this patch, or the fact that I think the game is genuinely good at some of its politicking. Its mystery is still not great by ANY means but its leaning more into the strengths of Penacony at this point which is good.

It is a patch that has resold me on the game, both for why I'm bothering to stick around and more literally in that I'm DEFINITELY pulling for Aventurine when he comes around and getting Topaz to go with him when she comes around. Helps that losing my 50/50 and my 75/25 on Acheron got me both Clara and her Lightcone finally, giving me one of the best follow up attackers in the game.

And I do think I should mention that this patch just continues the fact that Star Rail is still one of the best turn based RPGs out there right now, let alone for the price, and this patch doesn't disappoint on that front. But I'd need to get more into spoilers for that so for today, thank you all, good luck on your pulls and see you next tale.

======+++++======

My UID, because I'm trying to include this on Star Rail posts more often. 601902728

I have a public Discord for any and all who want to join!

I also have an Amazon page for all of my original works in various forms of character focused romances from cute, teenage romance to erotica series of my past. I have an Ao3 for my fanfiction projects as well if that catches your fancy instead. If you want to hang out with me, I stream from time to time and love to chat with chat.

A Twitter you can follow too

And a Kofi if you like what I do and want to help out with the fact that disability doesn’t pay much.

#hsr aventurine #honkai star rail #hsr #Honkai spoilers #star rail spoilers

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momtaku · 1 year

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"eren isn't an average person" anon here.

i had to vent, because, after the ending, i've been seeing many weird takes about the point of snk being to show what war can do to an ordinary person, or that everyone would do the same in eren's shoes. when people aren't saying that eren was just a cornered good guy or giving excuses that there was no other way other than the rumbling.

even if i can understand where isayama was going with the ending, i feel he kinda fumbled? i really think the way he wrote it gave the fandom what they wanted the most: many ways to justify what eren did and water down/erase the bad image of eren that the rumbling left on them. i got impressed how showing eren in a slightly more sympathetic light in chapter 139 made many people yell "i knew it. i knew he wasn't the bad guy" at the top of their lungs, others even considering he was redeemed and calling him a hero, since his actions ended up saving his close friends (despite they got in real danger and almost died most part of the last arcs).

the chapter technically doesn't redeem him, but the way it was delivered made many people see eren as "just a boy" again, and that the "bad eren" was completely a facade, because they'd desperately trying to disassociate what they think the real eren is from the things he was doing post-timeskip at every opportunity. people couldn't handle that eren is everything together.

many stuff contributed with that: not showing the consequences of the rumbling properly (post-rumbling); the rumbling not affecting the 104; all the main characters alive crying eren's death and implied to visit his grave; "thanks for becoming a mass murder for our sake" - even if armin was only trying to comfort eren before his death; excessively cute eremin and eremika without a drop of real resentment scenes; ending the original 139 with mikasa thanking eren for wrapping the scarf around her (inviting the readers to remember the good things he did), and associating him symbol with a bird, a symbol of freedom; etc.

anyway, here i am venting again lmao

ps: i swear i'm not an anr enjoyer/er*hisu. i'm just an average ending hater who felt isayama got so close yet so far to deliver something memorable.

You're fine anon! Vent away. I hear what you are saying.

Where I differ is that I don't mind the idea of the ending. I think it does exactly what Isayama set out to do. Concept wise it's not a fumble. If you read the August 2017 BSM interview, that's pretty clear:

I don’t think the series passes judgment on what is “right” or “wrong.” For example, when I read Furuya Minoru’s “Himeanole,” I knew society would consider the serial killer in the story unforgivable under social norms. But when I took into account his life and background I still wondered, “If this was his nature, then who is to blame…?”

But considering the root of the issue, rather than evaluating “what is right” […] I think that’s what Shingeki no Kyojin’s ending will resemble.

Isayama was never interested in establishing right or the wrong. His goal was to write a sympathetic character who was twisted both by nurture and nature to do unthinkable repugnant things. Rather than dictate morality, Isayama's goal was to let reader determine how they felt about it. This is exactly what we've seen in the fandom with people on all sides when it comes to judgment on Eren.

But I do agree that the ending was harmed by the issues that have plagued the series as a whole - terrible pacing, inconsistent tone, and too much emphasis on the mystery instead of the resolution. This series is a case study for "interesting ideas clumsily executed". It all culminated in a speeding train wreck of an ending.

As I write those words, I want to say again, I like the concept of the ending. While the whole "Thanks for becoming a mass murderer" vibe makes my skin crawl, I don't mind the actual events that happened. If the story and the ending had been presented to me as a bulleted list, I'd think it was outstanding.

As far as the ending being embraced by the worst of humanity as a justification for their hatred and bigotry, I don't know what to say about that. On one hand I've often wished Isayama had done more to discourage that or had spoken out against it, but then I think about how it is often the goal of authors to pick at the scabs of social issues and leave them festering and open. This series might have been a gateway for some into fascism, but flip that around and it was also a gateway for exposing it. The series has made me more aware of the issues in my own country and has strengthened my resolve to fight back on things I might have otherwise ignored.

This is long. I hope it makes sense. Thanks again for sharing your viewpoint.

#chatting with friends #snk ending #it's been a 84 years and it seems I still have thoughts

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talonwolf2 · 2 years

Text

I said earlier I was writing a Team Rancher fic based on the idea of what if they had a different number of lives, and I've actually written it! I still don't consider myself a good writer, but it took me two weeks to write and I wanna put it somewhere, I contemplating putting it on AO3 but I have no idea how that site works so Tumblr can have it. It is obvious that hurt/comfort is my favorite trope lol, flower husbands enthusiasts may not like this, Scott's an antagonist >:)

Word count: 12,738

Main characters: Tango and Jimmy

(all characters are present in some form)

Warnings (tell me if I should add/delete some): main character death, talk of side character death, stabbing, kissing (one is non-consent,) suicidal ideation, implied self harm, light description of gore, fainting, lotta stuff about blood

Tango shook his head, "you really shouldn't let them walk all over you," he said in a faintly questioning way, Tango had been sitting on their porch-like bridge that sat as a border for the Ranch while skimming through his communicator's logs. The late morning sun had been bouncing off the water below, blinding those spending time near it. He hadn't said anything since they'd gone back after Rancher's Revenge was slain.

Jimmy walked up from behind him, with a weak smile he added, "It's fine, I don't mind it, I swear,"

Jimmy sat himself next to Tango who emitted heat from his netherborn body, Tango gave no notice of him, focused on whatever was on his mind. He had the remains of Ranchers' Revenge in his lap, he pursed his lips holding onto what he wanted to say and Jimmy knew something must have been really bothering him. He knew Tango enough to know he couldn't just pry information like that out of him. They simply sat in an awkward silence, Jimmy peeling pieces of bark off the bridge where they sat seeing if he could throw chips far enough to land in the water with little success. Tango fiddled with his hands, eyes glued down to a rushing stretch of water, Tango silently moved away, standing up with Rancher's revenge sitting on his hip.

Jimmy watched as he started to walk towards the goat barn wordlessly, he knew it wasn't his time to chime in. Jimmy stretched out his shoulders hoping for it to help the tight feeling in his back despite knowing it would have no effect. Jimmy didn't want to tell Tango about it even though he knew Tango could feel the itchy and tightness Jimmy felt from his undelt with wings. He'd grown accustomed to it, but he knew it was being shared through their soulbound, it was stupidly obvious through the way he slouched. Jimmy told himself maybe things would be different this time if he didn't show his wings to anyone, they had really never really interacted with each other enough in the other games. He knew Tango wasn't aware of his avian features as he already had started to hide them by last life, so he'd already been used to unpreened wings at this point. He'd decided when he'd met Tango due to his innocent mistake, to hide them fully hoping that one little thing could break his curse; their curse now.

"Maybe we should stop," Tango said, cutting off Jimmy's thoughts as he sat back down close to him, his eyes subtly looking at Jimmy, "you know the way this always ends and we don't have a whole lot going for us," he paused setting his hand on Jimmy's, "ally wise." When Tango had returned, he was empty handed without his armor and extra bits of his outfit.

"Come on Tango, I really don't have too much faith in myself after how these games have ended for me," he chuckled, "I'm all in this for you now."

Tango only frowned at his attempts to get him to smile, Tango continued where he left off, "we shouldn't have messed with Scar," he said while Jimmy turned to see the ruins, "I am upset, but focusing on such a single miniscule issue could go south real quick." Tango took the hat he'd had on and set in on Jimmy's head, "but come on Jim, we got bigger things to deal with,"

Jimmy flushed at the gesture, "well okay then, what's the plan?" Tango only then returned a smile, "So no revenge, friend making?" He questioned adjusting Tango's hat on his head.

"Yeah, I'm thinking I'll work on the Ranch since it's been decided I'm the talented one," he poked, "and you'll try to unburn bridges, yeah?"

"I could do that," he said despite the fact he admittedly didn't want to, "then it's a plan!" He faked excitement.

"Great! Do you think you could track down some sand as well for a totally normal reason?" He added with a smile in his voice.

Jimmy started standing up, "wait do you want your hat back?" he said, tipping the hat.

Tango smiled dismissively, "nah keep it on, show others you're with me," as Tango went to push himself back up onto his feet, his hand went through a flimsy board. That board was a critical one which collapsed under his weight, causing him to fly down the revine.

Jimmy screamed as Tango's pain shot through both of them sending him back into his knees, Jimmy rushed to the edge spotting Tango laying on his back.

"I'm fine, I'm fine!" he insisted even though he'd fallen a good forty feet and he could feel the wind knocked out of both of him. "Maybe a scratch or two," he said, cradling his arm to his body still sprawled over the mossy rocks by the shore.

Jimmy stared down at him, "you dumbo," he gritted through his teeth from the pain rather than malicious intent, he yelled down to him, "maybe my curse has spread to you."

Tango swore under his breath, "you know how stupid I think that is, now are you gonna help me or what?" he shouted innocently. He turned to his communicator.

<SolidarityGaming> Ranch needs some help

<Grian> Deserved

<Inthelittlewoods> L

<Inthelittlewoods> What's up though?

<Tango> I feIl down the big revine

<GoodTimeWithScar> totally deserved, that's what you get for stealing my horse

"They really don't like helping huh," Jimmy yelled down, turning his head thinking he heard something behind him.

"Yeah I noticed," Tango said faintly, trying to ground himself which made him yell out in pain flopping back down onto the unforgiving rocks.

Jimmy swears he hears a faint giggle around him, but with his bound's pain shooting through his body, he knew he couldn't do anything about it, he wouldn't be able to fend for himself. "Tango do something," he shouted down as a feeling of dread filled him.

"What!?" Tango yells back trying to get up, which only causes him to stifle another pained sound.

All the confident footing Jimmy had made simply crumpled under him, "Whatever is there go away," he screamed covering his eyes.

A familiar voice spoke out, "oi what's all this for," he looked up only to see a girl in a red hood with torn moth-like wings, she giggled at how useless he looked, "You really do need a hand."

"Pearl! You scared the life out of me," Jimmy looked down gesturing, "again." She wasn't looking at him, but rather the condition of the Ranch, "are you gonna give us a hand or what?" Jimmy hushed.

"What's in it for me," she said in a deepened voice, "I gotta get something in return," she smiled.

"Pearl we are dirt poor," he said shakely standing up edging closer to her trying to make himself look bigger. She simply gave his shoulder a small shove, causing him to topple back, "fine, fine whatever you want!" His voice shook.

"I just want a promise of safety for my Tilly," she crouched down next to him.

"Is that it?" He furrowed his brows as she towered over him, "like your dog, really?"

"Mhm" she responded innocently.

"Then come'er," he becened her to the bridge, "the problem is very clear." he pointed down at Tango who gave a half-assed wave.

"Is that Pearl?" He shouted shifting how he lay.

Pearl looked at Jimmy who stiffened, "Bet you're happy I am a makeshift medic," She leaned over the edge getting a good look at him, "I'm gonna jump down to you."

Before Jimmy could get a word in, Pearl had already backed up and started running off the edge, "you really are crazy!" he shouted.

°~-–~°~--~°~--~°~--~°~--~°~--~°

"Are you not wearing armor?!" Pearl exclaimed as she pulled herself up to the rocks he had fallen on, "that would explain a lot!"

"I don't wanna talk about it," he said, forcing a smile.

Pearl sat herself next to him, unclipping the bag attached to her thigh. Pearl took what he said as an ask for silence which he didn't mind, he thought she had an interesting character so he liked just seeing how she works. Pearl placed what seemed to be a mastershift cloth on the ground between placing other health items that were obviously made by her on it.

Pearl looked at him, "sanitizing," she gestured to the items being separated in a particular way.

Pearl looked down at her communicator as if she expected something only to discard it to the side. Pearl put up one finger as she hoped back down to the water, Tango looked up there cliff seeing Jimmy was looking down at him.

<Me To: SolidarityGaming> I don't like this

<SolidarityGaming To: Me> Me neither man, but you gotta trust her

<SolidarityGaming To: Me> Nobody else really wants to help us

<Me To: SolidarityGaming> Fine, what did you even say to get her help?

"And emotional support," Peart returned with a bucket full of water in one hand and a puppy under her other arm that seemed tired, but happy to be included. Pearl sat both down, the puppy just laid down next to her while the bucket splashed as she dropped it down. Pearl's mood switched back as she sat closer to Tango, "are you fine with me touching you?"

"As long as it gets me out of pain," he said, trying to find a way to sit comfortably.

Pearl turned away, sticking her hands in the ice cold lake water, "What all is bothering you?" She twisted back to him.

Tango paused thinking about it only to find with all the adrenaline pumping, he wasn't really sure, "all over," Which wasn't really wrong, he was in a lot of general pain. Tango had found it harder to get comfortable since he got bound to Jimmy, but he felt it wasn't his space to ask Jimmy if it was because of him.

Pearl frowned, "well that's not too helpful," she paused, biting her lips, "there's a quick way and a slower way to deal with that."

"Why would I not wanna take the quicker way, wouldn't that just be statistically better?" He questioned as she was looking away from him trying to get her to look him in the eyes.

"Typically yes, but it would break your soulbound," Pearl held out a Notch Apple, "but I don't think you want that."

Tango's eyes widened, he hesitated, "woah, woah, there is no way I'm doing that!" he hated to admit he thought about it for a second saying they were on their red lives, "I can't just do that to him."

"That's fine, you just need to tell me what's wrong then," Pearl said, trying not to sound bugged.

Tango looked at her thinking about her disunion with Scott wondering why she hadn't used it on herself, "well when I fell I got pretty winded and I tried to stop myself while falling and I already got this nasty gash on my arm," Tango extended his arm to show a winding injury that went from his inner wrist to the bump of his elbow.

Pearl looked at it and didn't say a word, she silently dug through her bag and pulled out a pink potion, "start with this," she pushed it into his hands.

"This is different than the apple?" He fiddled with its cap, "it won't affect our bond?"

"It shouldn't," Pearl said simply looking at him kindly, "I assure you it shouldn't."

Tango looked at her and drank half of it, it was very odd tasting and not too enjoyable, "bleh," he said sticking out his tongue, "It does seem like it's helping though." Tango smiled, pulling out his communicator.

<Me To: SolidarityGaming> Hey is what she's doing helping on your end Jimmy?

<SolidarityGaming To: Me> Yeah it's definitely working, whatever witchcraft she's using is amazing!

<Me To: SolidarityGaming> Yep!

<SolidarityGaming To: Me> I'll start trying to mend bonds like you said

Tango looked up at her, "well that works super fast," Pearl was busying herself again with her items, "I need to ask, why does everyone think of you as-"

"The crazy ex, a demoness, insane, weirdo," she looked up at him, "because I was abandoned back to back, I think if anyone else was in my boat they'd react the same way as me." Pearl took off her hood which made her green galaxy of freckles almost glow.

Tango sat up "I don't think you're some sort of demon, I think you're right, but people don't wanna see your side," after listening to Jimmy talking of him and Scott's falling out, he'd grown to have neutral at best feelings towards him.

She giggled, "I think you'd go crazy in this murderous loop as well," for once her smirk seemed rather malicious which admititly freaked Tango out just a tad.

Pearl smiled back at him in her normal innocent wonder way, "but, you are distracting me, I came to help you, not be reassured," Pearl pet the puppy who'd fallen asleep and had not been disturbed by their talking.

°~-–~°~--~°~--~°~--~°~--~°~--~°

Jimmy swatted at a low hanging branch as he walked through the wooded area between him and Pearl's base, he felt the need to leave her at least some sort of gift. Jimmy was holding a young calf over his shoulders and had his pockets filled with small eggs, he thought it was a simple enough gesture from The Ranch that surely even a dog could enjoy. He sat them down in the base of her tower only to sit with them for a moment to ponder his next move. Jimmy did admittedly want to reconnect with Scott, they had been husbands in the past after all. He was in so much denial of Scott pushing him away, and he thought maybe he could change his mind this time as if he hadn't tried a million times. He loved Tango and all, but in no way was it in the same way as he'd been attached to Scott. Tango was his best non-romantic lover he'd ever had, he would do anything for him, but he couldn't just let go; he'd always been adored for never letting go. Jimmy gave the calf a good pat before standing up leaving it turning out the building towards him.

°~-–~°~--~°~--~°~--~°~--~°~--~°

"You didn't really know Jim before this?" Pearl questioned helping Tango back onto the bridge, Pearl gave a little yelp as she grabbed onto his hand, which had heated up from his excitement of getting back up.

Tango gave heavy breaths as he stabilized himself back on his feet, "No, but I'm glad they brought us together," he smiled, "proud of us, we're gonna prove this nonsense curse thing being false."

"So that's why you're not afraid of this reversed red riding hood," Pearl huffed

"Possibly," he leaned on her shoulders, "you got good in you, i've got your back till the end if you need it, my last life if you will."

She pushed him off politely, "That's a huge deal, I couldn't do that."

"Okay~, offer will stay open," he added, staying cocky, Tango turned his back to her, eyeing The Ranch, "gotta figure out this mess now."

"Okay then sir, good luck with that and stay safe," Pearl waved as she headed on her way.

"You too Pearl!" He smiled.

<Me To: SolidarityGaming> Do you think you could still pick up some sand?

No response.

<Me To: SolidarityGaming> Jim?

<Me To: SolidarityGaming> You there?

Tango frowned, "I need to have faith in him, he's probably just out of range," he told himself as he fiddled with the antenna of his communicator. He crouched down in the shade of the goat barn and pondered over The Ranch. Maybe he could rebuild it out of brick, or hay, or stone, but he knew his limitation of items within his grasp would not let that be possible. Tango entered the Ranch again looking around the ruins of the main floor.

"Hello there," a smiley Scar on a horse says, "enjoying an almost end to your series."

"Yeah yeah yeah," he swatted at him away while rummaging through chests, "you're lucky I've not decided to turn on you, I don't think you want that either."

"Nope, me and G are really liking our green names and will be keeping it that way," Scar hopped off his horse, throwing its lead over what was once the door frame before entering the Ranch.

Tango turned to him, "is that a challenge?"

"I promise it is not, I have come to apologize," a smile slipped into his voice, "and I swear I'm not being forced to."

Tango sat on a singed chest, "then do it," he looked Scar up and down, "go on."

Scar stuttered over his words, "well, I guess I just wanted to uh, uhm words aren't working," he nervously laughed, "just I'm sorry, I want to just put it simply, but you did start it."

Tango heard Scar's communicator buzz, he took slow steps closer to him, "seems like you're just being used as a puppet," he leaned in close, "I don't think Grian deserves your trust." Scar looked at him but didn't back away, he didn't dare utter a word, as if he did admit it, everything would fall apart. Tango stepped back, "I'm not wrong am I?"

Scar's lips were sealed before spitting out, "I trust Grian," he had a thought filled look, "he's protected me with his life in the past."

"And didn't you turn on him?" Tango slowed, this wasn't where he meant to bring the conversation, he was filled with guilt, "I'm sorry, that was inappropriate of me to say."

Scar looked at him before folding onto the ground, "heh, forgot my cane," he froze, "but you're not wrong," he looked up at Tango, "the lenses are definitely rose colored," he scoffed.

Tango joined him on the floor silently, "earlier Pearl gave me an offer,"

He perked up, "an offer you say?"

Tango glanced at Scar, "you may not like this, I sure didn't," Tango touched the back of his neck, "Pearl had offered me a god Apple," Scar furrowed his brows, "which breaks a soulbound."

Scar's eyes flashed with fear, "you're serious?"

"Completely."

"And you have it?"

"No, I didn't dare touch it, let alone take it from her."

Scar had an unreadable look, "what did she want for it?"

"Are you actually thinking about it!" Tango was genuinely surprised, that seemed so unlike him.

"Oh would you look at that my communicator is going off, bye bye now Jolly Rancher!" Scar fibbed, jumping to his feet obviously too quickly for his body, hobbling towards his horse.

"It's still Team Rancher Scar," he shouted as he pulled himself onto his horse and headed on his way, "I was gonna try to pull a you and swindle for you horse." he laughed to himself.

Tango took a random pain, "ow!" he audibly exclaimed, "that was a lot of damage!"

Tango pushed himself off the ground, he paused looking at the chests, he decided it wasn't quite worth his efforts. It had already been a long day and the non-existent sleep for the past few days was getting to him. Tango took out his horn and gave it a good blow.

No response.

Not answering his communicator wasn't unlike him, but not answering their horns? He blew it again as loud as he could.

No response.

An unfamiliar sensation followed the silence.

°~-–~°~--~°~--~°~--~°~--~°~--~°

His communicator buzzed without him realizing as he entered Scott's own version ranch.

"What do you want this time," a bitter Scott spat at him.

His eyes scanned Scott's base, "I just wanted to say hello!," Jimmy responded with a gentle smile hiding a daisy behind his back.

"Timmy, you are literally a beggar, leave, I don't do charity,"

Jimmy felt struck by this reminder he truly wasn't the same Scott who paraded him around, "well I guess I really only wanted to say hi!" He repeated hiding his disappointment.

"Then hi," Scott gestured him away, "I had plans."

Jimmy continued, "just wanted to see how the worse ranch was doing with your self made soulmate," he said poking at him.

"We have a stronger bond than most for the record, me and Cleo are better than any other partner I've had." Scott said shoving a fence post to correct its wonky placement.

"What happened?" Jimmy walked closer to him, trying to get Scott to look at him while fiddling with the flower, "you have spent this series abandoning, not one, but two past partners who had been just as important to you."

"This is not the same game," Scott growled.

"Pearl is literally bound to you, and you left her," he snapped for her despite the fact he was one of many who was afraid of her, "you lived with her last time and left me!"

Scott got in his face, "I choose my own destiny," he scowled as their eyes locked, and slowly added one word at a time, "it's none of your business Jim."

Jimmy slouched, "I want a reason," he added in a hushed voice, "please."

"Well I'm not gonna give you one," he backed away, "you are not worth my time." He started walking backwards, "you have Tango and you still come back for my praise, pathetic," Scott rolled his eyes.

His heart sank, "you really are that cruel," he hissed, "forget this." Jimmy threw the daisy on the ground stomping on it. He gave a quick glare before crossing his arms huffing as he walked away. Tango was all he needed, Scott meant nothing to him!

Totally nothing.

Jimmy didn't know where he was going but he just let his legs take him wherever they'd dare to, he didn't care anymore. Tango was all he had, he hated the frustration that started to boil up inside him thinking of how Tango was the only one he felt ever truly believed in him. Jimmy started to audibly grumbling to himself as it all started to bubble over his limit, it was all so much. He wanted to not care, but he did, too much.

Jimmy suddenly fell, the ground underneath him stopped. Within his blurry haze of emotions he fell into a cave, It wasn't a shallow cave at that, it definitely wasn't a fun fall, "Why does this keep fucking happining," he whimpered to himself. He leaned his head down between his legs wondering what he did to deserve what had been thrown at him. Jimmy put his hand through his hair realizing Tango's hat had fallen off, he panicked for a moment before seeing it slyly laying on its side a few feet away. Jimmy smiled at it as he stood up to go and grab it, everything seeming to fall back in place as his emotions fizzled away. "I have Tango," he smiled. It was getting dark, he knew if he tried to get out now he'd run out of energy, Jimmy knew he'd have to set up camp there for the night. He reached for his communicator only to find the string that once chained it to his belt had snapped, he grumbled, "hmph, I don't wanna worry Tango, but I really can't tell him."

He nodded his head, maybe a nap would be deserved, but he just couldn't get comfortable. He moved his shoulders and patted his back, but it didn't do anything to help and he knew it wouldn't. Jimmy had spent so long abusing his wings that it truly was starting to come back to bite him. He hated them and the pain they brought, he never dared to tell, let alone show Tango his wings because of it. Jimmy as a stabbing pain ran through him, annoyed he finally caved. Jimmy took off his jacket tossing it to the side, he then untied his bandana he matched with Tango tossing onto the hat on top of his jacket. He paused for a moment, rubbing his shoulders trying to help his pain, his wings had only become more of a nuisance especially as he tried getting his shirt off. Jimmy could barely get his shirt off with his wings sticking to his shirt, he found that with an elongated stretch, he could finally pull it over his head tossing it over to join his jacket. Jimmy then struggled with one hand trying to reach the string he'd used to tie his wings together tightly to his body, Jimmy took one good tug to it and it untied falling behind him. Jimmy was instantly filled with a feeling of pleasure, it felt so good to have them freed, he moved his wings around with a cheeky smile giggling to himself. The pain ceased!

But that joy was instantly taken over by an even greater level of discomfort that rolled over him. It was actually painful, he folded into himself from the pain, grinding his teeth together. He went from sitting happily to laying on his stomach to trying to get weight off his wings. The pain caused him to have a giggly feeling even though it made him feel like he was about to faint, he couldn't help but continue to giggle as he thought about how he got there. Arrived in the game after an unknown amount of time in his own personal void to find his wings maliciously clipped perfectly, with nothing but his clothes to his name. The talk of soulmates comforted him, he thought knowing his track record, maybe his person could help make this short time together pleasant.

Jimmy was hit with another stinging pain as he started to doze off. He was laying his bare chest to the unwelcoming stone hearing distant sounds, but it was not enough to keep him awake.

°~-–~°~--~°~--~°~--~°~--~°~--~°

Tango couldn't take it, he yelled through the horn one more time.

No.

Response.

Panic set in, "I swear if I die like this," he mumbled to himself. He had been leaning precariously against the ruins, he finally threw back on his vest seeing that the sun would start setting within the hour and started running towards The Cake. He called out being the first person he'd seen. "Scar, Scar!"

"Oh, oh, ooh my gosh," a spooked Scar dropped his cane, "you scared me!"

Tango rushed to pick it up, shoving it back into his hand, "I'm so sorry, but have you seen Jimmy?" he pleaded.

Scar had a hand on his chest, "well no, geez, I need a moment."

"I don't have a moment," he wanted to yell. "Take your time," he hummed.

"Come, Come, to the Panda Sanctuary!" he invited, "I need to sit!"

"I'm still sorry, but I don't have time for that, have you seen Jimmy!"

Scar frowned, "well that doesn't make me wanna help," Tango glared, "you're looking good today though, classic Avian slouch is gone."

Tango tilted his head, "What?"

"Hmph, okay then," Scar grinned, "I swear I saw him on the other side of the revine a while ago," He added while turning away, "I'll be with the Jellies if you need me."

Tango sat frozen for a moment before snapping out of it, he looked over the bridge, the Relation. He hopped over towards the wobbly bridge that crossed over the ravine that connected The Cake to the Boat Boy's base. He ran up there path to the boat panting frantically looking around the boat to see noone.

<Tango> aye, SmallEtho, where are you at? It's urgent

<Etho> Nowhere

<Tango> I'm at the Relationship, I have a flint and steel

<Smallishbeans> I'm calling your bluff

<Grian> He is at your base

<Etho> Kinda busy

Tango grumbled leaning against The Relation as the unfamiliar feeling ran through him again. He picked at a splintering piece of wood, he gave a defeated tap to the boat as he started his way towards Cleo's base. He thought maybe she'd be of some sort of actual help. Tango grabbed at random pieces of tall grass within his reach while walking trying to get his mind straight; he'd never felt this way about others in the past games. Was it because of their soulbound or did he actually care? He stuck with that thought, smiling to himself, he really did love his bound. Even if it wasn't the same as some of the others, of whom were more than just soulbounds. Yet he truly loved Jimmy. His partner in this life.

"Oh Cleo!" Tango said extra exaggeratedly, a smile slipped into his voice, "you around." He blew his horn while stumbling around her home, "man she's not home either!" Tango looked down the bridge and grimaced, it was a pretty bridge and all, but he didn't like who was sat on the other side.

"Hi Tango," added a lonesome Scott sitting inside his sheep pen brushing a young lamb, "you having a fun time there yelling all about?"

Tango waltzed up to the pen, "what do you think," he snapped.

"Feisty today," Scott looked up at him, "I swear if you scorch my new fence."

Tango lifted his hand not realizing how hard he was gripping it, "oh, uhm," he stammered, "What are you doing?"

He didn't respond to him, "My fence! You owe me now," he stood up reminding Tango of how tall he truly was, "here, have this."

Scott tossed him the wilted flower, "What's this?" He furrowed his brows, "a daisy?"

Scott made a face, "yeah, I believe it is,"

Tango smiled, "he quite liked daisies,"

"He did."

Color drained from his face, "What did you do."

Scott calmly opened the gate and stood in front of him, "nothing," he had an abnormal smile on his face.

"I won't ask again, what did you do to Jimmy," he threatened standing in his face.

"Well I didn't do anything," he calmed, "Timmy definitely wasn't happy about what I had to say."

"You know his name, stop," he growled.

Scott put his hands in his pockets, "oh I'm well aware, he responds to it, no harm here."

He rolled his eyes, "Stop it, are you really no help either!" Tango held everything inside him to stop himself from putting his hands on him.

"No I don't plan to be, are you gonna keep loitering there," Scott poked him in the chest turning to fumble with something else in his pocket.

"I hate you," he spat on him, "you are so two faced!"

Scott stared at him as if it came out of nowhere, "well that's just rude." He wiped his face, "leave."

"I know you're not telling me something." He gave in, shoving Scott which did nothing, but off his footing.

"In that case, just take this stupid thing," he threw a pile of mini redstone peices, "the canary dropped that and it fell into the pen and the sheep got to it first."

He realized that it was the remains of Jimmy's communicator, he'd lost it and that's why he hasn't responded. Tango felt he may have been a bit irrational with his fear, he scoffed at it. "Why did you call Jimmy a canary?" He questioned picking through the pieces.

"I think that's something you'd want to ask him yourself," Scott started walking away.

Tango looked at him, but he didn't bother. He turned back to the pieces, Tango knew it would take him hours to fix it. Tango frowned as he started trying to separate the old casing from wires, and wires from the mechanical pieces, but with his still injured arm, he struggled to pick up the tiny pieces. Tango slashed through the pieces in frustration, he knew he couldn't fix it even if he did have hours.

Jimmy's weird pain returned to him again in an even worse wave than before. Tango laid back on Scott's wooden path, he wanted to give up there, but he knew he couldn't just yet.

"Are you good Tango?" Scott returned with concern itching in his voice.

"I think I'm dying," Tango closed his eyes, "I'm on my last life, but I'm not out for blood," he pleaded.

He could feel Scott take a step back through the vibrations of the path, "oh," he hushed.

"I don't wanna die like this," he bit his lips, "I'm not ready."

Scott couldn't help but wordlessly stare from a short distance.

Tango tilted his head with his ear to the ground, "we both keep taking turns causing pain the past few hours," he laughed to himself.

Scott squatted down next to him, "where does it hurt?"

Tango elected to ignore how genuine he sounded, "it's grown from discomfort to a stabbing pain, it's all in my upper back and it's not gone away." Tango had pained tears in his squinted eyes.

Scott had his mouth glued closed, he remembered Jimmy going through something similar once when they were together. He had been in no way the same level of pain, but he had sworn he'd never let it happen again because of how much it worried him. He knew Jimmy had become more secretive, but he didn't think he would keep his avian nature secret from his soulmate of all people. "I can't help you if it's through Jimmy," he mumbled.

"Great," Tango gritted his teeth, "I can't, I can't this is," he trailed off.

"Tango?" Scott asked, "Tango, are you okay?" He repeated, he tapped his face to get no response repulsed by his warmth, he froze, "Tango?!"

<Smajor1995> GUYS SOMETHING'S OFF WITH TANGO

<ZombieCleo> I swear I just heard him embarrassing himself on my lawn

<Smajor1995> I'm being genuine, it doesn't seem good!

<RenTheDog> Are we already getting someone out this quick?!

<PearlescentMoon> I'm coming, I'm coming

Scott kept patting very unconscious Tango, "come on, not like this!" He suddenly felt as if he was back at the failed trap that had taken Jimmy's yellow life. Scott remembered peering into a crumbling explosion hole that was a mix of his and two other people's remains. It was the most bloody, gruesome scene he had ever seen in these death games he'd partaken in. The horrors of that scene alone scarred him for such a long time that he still got debilitating nightmares over it. He couldn't peel his eyes away from him the same way he couldn't then.

Impulse jumped over to him, "wow what's going on," he swooped down going to support Tango's head.

"I don't know he complained about Jimmy's pain and he passed straight out," Scott had tears running down his face, he reached to touch Tango's face only to recoil. He swore under his breath, "I keep forgetting he is literally burning hot." Scott scoffed as he wiped his own wet cheeks.

"What do we even do?" Impulse asked, also bugging Tango with the back of his hand.

"Depends," Pearl suddenly stood above them, "I don't think we have a set plan for this type of stuff."

Scott watched as Pearl popped down next to Impulse, "what should we do then," he stared at her.

"Don't pour water on him, that would shock his system," Pearl looked at Impulse who's gloves had holes forming in them, "I'm not as confident on what to do either, is it his problem or y'know?"

"Complained of extreme upper back pain, what do you think," Scott grumbled.

"Ah, then Jimmy," Pearl turned, hiding the smile his acknowledgment gave, "I think we just gotta wait it out though sadly," she stopped, "we don't know where Jimmy is so that's a huge roadblock."

He dropped his tensed shoulders, "We should bring him inside," Scott invited, "I'll grab his feet, you grab him by his shirt," he directed Impulse.

He nodded and Scott tilted his head towards his home. Pearl understood running in front of them and propping open Scott's door. "He's a lot lighter than I thought," Impulse said through a slightly strained voice solely because of his awkward hold of him.

Pearl kicked away small debris on Scott's floor, "Can you grab some wool from my chests," Scott asked, struggling to hold Tango up.

"Yeah yeah I can do that," she shifted over to his chests rummaging through them, "here," she tossed a decently sized clump of wool.

He let it drop on the floor adjusting it with his feet, "okay, let's turn him around and put his head there," he looked into Impulse's eyes.

Pearl watched them carefully set him down, "what now?"

"We have to make a search party," Impulse clapped his hands together looking up at her, "I'll organize it." He got to his feet, made a quick goodbye, then got on his way.

Scott was now sitting rummaging in his own chests while Pearl was left standing there, "I think I'll leave."

"Please do," Scott responded simply.

"Okay," she murmured, pausing by the door as her communicator buzzed, "I guess I'll answer that."

A silence loomed over Scott, Scott kept moving his hand close to Tango making sure he was still alive. Scott couldn't focus on his other plans especially with the sky's color draining swiftly; he had spent the past hours pacing while Tango was under his care. He was struggling with nerves from his lack of understanding of Tango's kind. Scott could hear horns blowing and yells all day, and with the day's light, the shouts ran dry.

Tango stirred and Scott paused, frozen in place. He dropped down next to him, "Hey," he hushed hoping he'd respond.

Tango squeezed his eyes together, he hummed ineligibility, he opened one eye and gave an unimpressed look.

Scott pushed more wool under him inviting him to sit up, which Tango couldn't really argue against.

"Still don't like you," he grumbled, slurring his words together.

"I guess that's fair," Scott scooted away, Scott twiddled his thumbs, "how do you feel?"

"Sleep helped," he replied, continuing to slur, Tango looked at him with heavy eyes that peaked open.

He didn't dare correct him, "probably need something to munch on, lemme see what i've got," he walked up to his counter.

"That'd be nice," Tango faintly smiled.

"I haven't been killing any of my animals, but I have some bread," he returned to him, "it's a touch stale."

Tango happily grabbed it from him, "Thanks," he wasn't wrong about it being "a touch" stale, "is Jimmy okay?"

"People have been searching for him, I haven't been updated, but most stopped going out since the moon started dominating the sky," Scott lit a lantern sitting near them, "I don't believe they have though."

"I gotta find him then!" Tango exclaimed, rushing to his feet.

"You were unconscious for almost five hours, I wouldn't," he said, putting a harsh hand on Tango's shoulder.

"You're not in charge of me," he fought back pushing himself up off his bent knee.

"I can't stop you-"

Tango didn't let him speak, "that's right, I have things to do," he scoffed, "I sound like you."

Scott watched Tango slam his door open and closed, he snapped back to his senses; why did he care?

Tango stopped just outside the door, where does one even start! He peeled his hand away from the handle, he reached for his communicator, it was dead. He sighed putting it back in his pocket, defeated, he stumbled down the steps. Tango kicked a small package and stopped, it peaked his curiosity. It read:

I tried

-Impulse

Tango tilted his head, picking it up and heading towards the exit of Scott's perimeter. He struggled to deal with the leather wrapping around it, Tango paused just outside, pulling a sharp cobblestone from his pocket. He grinned, it was a gold and blue communicator with Jimmy's name etched in it. The gesture touched him, he dashed it into a pocket in his vest, he needed to find Jimmy.

"Jimmy, Jimmy!" He yelled out getting louder, "Jimmy are you around!" He passed Box which was lit up, "odd looking place," he mumbled to himself looking through the darkness of the trees thoroughly. "Jim! Jimmy," he continued yelling, keeping up a swift pace starting through the dense woods.

He noticed something else wandering in the woods. Tango almost ran into a silent Ren and Martyn, they were holding each other's hands while Ren held a nearly out torch. They looked at him unfazed and nodded at him, Tango returned the nod. "Well that happened," he thought to himself.

He continued yelling, staring up at the moon which sat just above him, "Jimmy, where are you!" He coughed, the yelling was not treating him well, he turned to his horn, he blew it as loud as his sore lungs would let him.

No response

He blew it again, one more time; a defeated blow.

A distant response

He froze, "Jimmy!" He yelled out one more time running towards the sound, he abruptly stopped, "woah!" He blurted out, tipping himself backwards avoiding a huge cavern.

"Tango?"

He kneeled, peering over the edge, "Are you down there Jim?"

"Yeah I'm down here, I don't see you," he shouted distantly.

Tango's heart melted, he missed Jimmy, but he wasn't sure if he was gonna hug him or kill him when he got down there, "I'm gonna find a way down," he didn't have any of his tools on him, but the ground seemed too unstable to dig already. He looked at the surrounding woods, he yanked long vines off trees tossing them towards the cavern. He was always surprised by how strong vines were, he braided a bunch of them together. "I'm tossing something down,'" he smiled excitedly, ready to see him again, thinking how it was basically the same their last meeting had left off. Tango stepped back, he blew on his hands trying to keep himself from getting too excited, he turned to tie the long vine to a nearby tree. He neared the edge kicking his feet over the edge, he grabbed onto the vine and scooted off the edge. Tango yelped as he fell, the vines were not a forgiving hand hold, despite that he made it to the bottom safely with only a little skin rubbed off his palms.

"Tango," his familiar voice screamed.

Tango's eyes met Jimmy,

he ran putting him into the strongest hug he could, "oh my god you're alive! And fine."

"Tango, that's starting to hurt," Jimmy's voice reeked of a smile.

Tango loosened his hug, "I'm sorry," he pecked his cheek, "I'm so glad you're okay," he repeated himself letting go of him.

Jimmy stepped back flustered, "me to," Jimmy itched the back of his head nervously.

Tango clocked on, "wow," he stared at him, he stumbled, "you're not wearing a shirt." He cringed to himself, redirecting to the more obvious thing, "and those wings!"

Jimmy's face was flame red, "yeah," his wings folded into himself, "not the most comfortable thing ever."

Tango was in awe of his wings golden color, "they're beautiful," Tango approached him, "so is that the cause of that stupid feeling."

Jimmy shifted his shoulders to let Tango get a good look, "yeah, gotta a lot of junk stuck in 'em and I'm pretty sure they're getting pretty infected in places."

Tango reached his hand into the feathers, "that's fine, we can deal with it, it doesn't make them any less beautiful," Tango couldn't let go of how amazed he was.

Jimmy tensed with his warm touch, it was pleasant on his wings, but it was a surprise, "can you not?"

"Sorry! I forgot about that, I'm just excited," Tango haphazardly pulled his hand away, hitting Jimmy's back.

Jimmy recoiled, "ow, Tango," he blurted with a pained giggle in his voice.

"Sorry sorry!" Tango yelped, hugging his hand to his body, "I'm so sorry, how can I apologize!"

"Sorry is well enough," he insisted, "come on, don't work yourself up over it."

Tango furrowed his brows, "you can see my handprint," he bit the inside of his cheek, "can I say sorry again?"

He scoffed, smiling, "no, you can not," he extended his wings and a single feather fluttered to the ground, "I'll be fine."

Tango bent down grabbing the feather, he smiled up, "can I keep it?"

He grinned back, "the same way I'm keeping your hat?" He knew his face was red, letting others keep feathers had never been a gesture he felt comfortable with before. It was a big deal.

"Then that's that," he stuck the golden feather behind his ear, blending in with his own fiery yellow hair, "this is all this moment needed."

"All," he smirked, "I feel as if another hug would perfect this moment."

"Wait one sec something even better," Tango dug through his pockets interrupting him, "I got this for you- well technically Impulse did." Tango extended his hand with the custom communicator.

Jimmy's jaw dropped, taking it from him, "oh my god you're the best!" He wrapped his arms around him, pulling him off his feet.

Tango buffered for a moment before digging his face into Jimmy's shoulder, "you know it!"

His heart fluttered, they were meant to be together. Jimmy loved Tango in a way that was special to them, he loved Tango's gestures and spark. But that all came from a place of their strong soulbound and not relations like most. Jimmy made a tight smile as he loosened his grip on Tango, Tango lifted his head cracking a smile. Jimmy kissed Tango slowly on the cheek, returning his beloved reaction to reconnecting.

Tango eyes shifted to his not leaving a moment for silence, "can I kiss you?" He never felt a yearning to kiss someone like that before. Tango put a hand on Jimmy's face rubbing his thumb where he had kissed him before.

"Yes please," he melted into Tango's kind touch. Tango giggled, "come on then, kiss me," Jimmy bugged.

Tango pulled him closer wrapping his arm around his waist keeping the other on his cheek, "well okay then mister."

Jimmy made the move in his hesitation, tugging his shirt tightly, smirking, bringing Tango's lips to his. Tango was noticeably shorter yet Jimmy melted into him, causing no need for Tango to tiptoe to his height. Tango lowered his hand off Jimmy's cheek, rolling his hand down his back, running his fingers through his wings. Jimmy returned his hands to Tango's face feeling the moment build up inside him, the world felt as though it faded into blissful nothingness. Jimmy opened his mouth smirking, Tango smiled against his teeth, leaning their foreheads together. Jimmy slid his hands around his neck, Tango reached back in for more of Jimmy's soft love. Jimmy's breath was sweet from watermelon while his was bitter from wild berries, yet they were tied to each other gladly.

Tango pulled back from him gently, all giddy he remarked, "you're the best."

Jimmy brushed his hand against Tango's, "mhm," he leaned back standing on the heels of his feet, "we should really deal with the big problem."

Tango hugged Jimmy close to him, resting his head on Jimmy's collarbone, setting a cool hand against his chest, "yeah, but that can wait," he kissed his neck, "I only just got here."

Jimmy pushed him off shyly, "what about The Ranch though?"

Tango frowned, dropping his hand to his side, "it's about just as ruined," he stepped back as well, "I guess we should deal with that."

Jimmy turned his back to him letting his wings pick up the rising Sun's glow, Tango followed him closely as he wandered towards the pile of his belongings. Jimmy crouched down, causing his wings to smack Tango in the face, Tango spat out the taste of his feathers in his mouth. Jimmy stifled a laugh, "sorry about that," he picked up his jean jacket, "I've gotten real sick of tucking my wings in my shirt."

Tango knew what he was thinking, digging into his pockets tossing him the sharp stone from earlier, "temporary solution, but you could always just slice a bit off for your wings to fit through."

Jimmy turned the rock in his palm, "I could," he draped the jacket over a knee and nicked the fabric with the duller end. He stared at it closely for a moment, before slashing through the fabric swiftly and as evenly as he could. "Perfect!" He exclaimed.

Tango watched him throw the jacket over his shoulders, "do you want any help?"

Jimmy struggled trying to pull his left wing through the tear, "I think I'm fine," he insisted, "okay yeah I do," he quickly backtracked, distressed by feathers that got snagged.

Tango sat down behind him, silently adjusted his feathers as Jimmy kept trying to maneuver his wing through his jacket, knowing his bodily temperature was rising, he feared burning him again. Tango gently grabbed the bend of his wing, straightening it, Jimmy smiled at him, laying his head back on Tango as he pulled Jimmy's short feathers out of his jacket. "This is annoying," he laughed nervously.

"Well you started it," he put his hand through Jimmy's knotted hair, "come on we're half way done."

Jimmy groaned as he threw his head back up, "yeah," he drawled.

"There ya' go," Tango said while helping Jimmy put his wings through first, which was much more successful.

Jimmy tugged at the cuffs of his jacket, shifting to face him, "thanks, I haven't had to put on a shirt with my wings in a long time," he started buttoning his jacket, "what're you thinking now?"

"Well we gotta get out of here to say the least," Tango leaning into him undoing Jimmy's top button smirking, "let's figure this out."

°~-–~°~--~°~--~°~--~°~--~°~--~°

Jimmy flopped into the grass, "told you it wouldn't work."

Tango pulled himself up, "hey we still got up here," he stood over Jimmy panting slightly, "to The Ranch?"

Tango extended his hand to him, Jimmy grinned taking it, "Ranch repair time." Tango launched him to his feet with a simple pull, "woah dude!" He stumbled trying to ease himself, "you're excited."

Tango bashfully touched the back of his neck, "whoops?"

Jimmy laughed, taking his hand, "ow! I forgot about it this time." Jimmy shrugged it off with a smile still plastered on his face.

Tango did not seem to find it as amusing, he gave a low humming grumble, "One second." He grasped his own hand, pacing, Tango gave a quick annoyed breath stepping away swiftly. Tango yelled out as he swung full force at a tree, Jimmy groaned as pain climbed through his arm. Tango growled looking at Jimmy with his red eyes glowing like he'd only ever seen once before. Even with twenty feet between them, Jimmy could catch Tango's bothered expression.

Jimmy approached him kindly, "it's really fine," he paused watching Tango huff. Jimmy knew it wasn't his fault he tipped over the edge, but he knew the way to Tango. Jimmy cornered him against the tree and held one hand over Tango's shoulder, caressing the back of their hands together with the other, "I trust you." Jimmy watched Tango with a tilted head watching him glance haphazardly at the ground avoiding his eyes, his grumbling stabling.

Tango made a muffled sound from deep inside his throat, peering at their hands, he loosened his hands from the fist he hadn't realized he was making, which was digging his nails into his palm, Jimmy flipped his hand rubbing Tango's knuckles softly. He found it quite amusing that he had met Tango's melting point.

Jimmy stepped back giving him his space back, Tango pulled his hand closer to himself only for Jimmy to take his hand and hold it between his own, "there's the boy I know," he laughed as Tango looked up at him square in the eyes, "we have each other," he reminded.

Tango's lips perked up, "mhm," he twisted his fingers into Jimmy's.

Jimmy took a step forward, "ready?"

He nodded, "yeah."

Jimmy started off at a swift pace, Tango squeezing his hand, finding it a tad bit unnatural for him to keep up. Jimmy eventually slowed his pace to account for their lack of knowing where they were. Jimmy kept accidentally peering into the sun trying to figure out which way to get home.

"Maybe we should cut out this way, it seems to be some plains," Tango pointed out.

"Ah I see," Jimmy dropped his hand ducking under a very low hanging branch, "freedom!" He joked, running up ahead.

Tango laughed rushing to catch up to him, he picked up Jimmy giving him a good spin when he did. Tango set him down carefully, bowed kissing his hand like a prince as Jimmy's feet settled. The two pranced together with nothing in their vision but each other, the world around then being blurred. Jimmy squeezed his hand as hard as he could, the two laughing together as one, their perfect moment could never end.

And then it did

Jimmy flashed awake, he was in The Ranch? Jimmy reached in his pockets having nothing but his communicator on, he scoffed, "man we must have died," Jimmy looked to the other bed, but it remained empty, "Tango?" He froze, "This isn't funny, where are you?"

No response

Jimmy rushed to his feet, he could see through where the upper floor used to be, no one. He rushed down to the basement, no one. He peered out from the door frame, no one. He looked at their farm, no one, the goats old home, no one, no one, no one!

Jimmy yanked his communicator out of his pocket in desperation.

Tango fell from a high place

SodalityGaming died

<Grian> OMG FIRST OUT

<PearlesntMoon> NOT TIMMY AND TANGO

<Smajor1995> AGAIN!

<SmallishBeans> Called it

Jimmy furrowed his brows reading earlier messages.

<PearlesntMoon> I gotta call it a night, sorry

<Grian> No sightings in the caverns either

<RenTheDog> I'm not giving up quite yet dudes

<ImpulseSV> Thank you all for trying at least

<Smajor1995> Can someone help me, I don't know how to help him

<Smajor1995> You know stuff about the nether right Martyn?

<InTheLittleWoods> No can do bud

<Smajor1995> You bitch, I don't want him dying dying in my arms

It hit him, Tango was gone, his one love was gone like that. It hit him, and his blood boiled inside him.

<SolidarityGaming> Guys?

<GoodTimeWithScar> Wait, shouldn't you be dead?

<ImpulseSV> You're alive?!

His wings hugged around him, Jimmy couldn't stomach looking at his communicator anymore. He collapsed on the ground into a pile of bones. He felt struck, in shock even, but nothing else. Jimmy looked up to a small calf that escaped the pen staring down at him, he gave a labored breath as he picked up the calf, it happily sat in Jimmy's arms. He walked back through The Ranch slowly, his wings wrapping closer to him as he passed the beds, he turned setting the calf back in the pen and it swiftly returned to its mother. He turned away struggling to bear it, Jimmy thought about his communicator again, not daring to look at what they're saying.

He needed Tango, now what? Jimmy couldn't help but deny what happened, his vision blurred as he stumbled out of The Ranch, "Tango!" He screamed while running, he found himself stuck running with no direction, just wanting to find him okay. Jimmy froze, seeing someone on the ground, Jimmy ran to them.

A single Bdubs was crumpled with a shovel dropped in front of him, he had silent tears running down his face. Jimmy noticed a hole not far from him, confused he peered down the pit; everything stopped.

Tango

Jimmy pulled the shovel away from Bdubs smacking it into the hard unforgiving dirt, he needed to get down there. Jimmy dug and dug until he met the shaft of the man-made hole staring down eyes glued to Tango. He pleaded for Tango to be okay, even though he knew. He glanced up before looking back readying to drop down. The space was no bigger than then five by five feet so he sneaked down carefully by pushing his arms and legs against the wall sliding down. Jimmy's body wasn't ready for it, and it gave out when he was still around fifteen feet up. He fell smacking the ground harshly, hitting his head on the walls on the way down.

Jimmy sat himself up rubbing his eyes, a touch dazed realizing he had passed out. After a moment he stirred noticing an evident commotion starting above him. He snapped back to his senses, he looked at Tango realising their bodies were touching, yet he was cold. Jimmy put his hands on either side of Tango's face bringing their foreheads together. He gave a saddened smile dropping his hands watching Tango's head droop towards him. Jimmy looked up seeing someone look at him, he shot his eyes down to Tango. He took off his jacket, covering Tango's face, Jimmy put an arm under Tango's limp legs and the other behind his shoulders, Jimmy whimpered as he lifted Tango. If Jimmy hadn't looked hard enough, he'd have just assumed he was asleep. Sure Tango had a nasty gash along his face that tracked down to a new rip in his shirt that tinted it a new shade of red, along with that his left ankle and wrist were both bent in a fashion that was oddly sat. But Jimmy thought just maybe if he ignored it, it wouldn't have been real.

He struggled to use a pickaxe to tunnel back up with a Tango draped over him. Jimmy fell into a blurry daze, he could hear voices and steps above him, but none of them he could decifier anymore. Someone's words seemed surprised, while someone was upset, and others flat, but he couldn't process their words or voices.

Jimmy met his old tunnel, he hit it with the dull end of his pickaxe against crumbly dirt, the sun hitting his face. Jimmy glued his eyes to Bdubs as he took his final step up. Impulse, who was kneeling next to Bdubs, stood up patting his back. "Jim," he started looking at Jimmy who was scanning the group seeing Etho, Joel, and Cleo all staring at him, "I would like to apologize for Bdoubleo's actions."

Jimmy's wings puffed while his face was stuck in a grim look, Jimmy turned back to Bdubs who seemed just as defeated as before. He felt a type of anger he'd never felt himself as he stared, "I don't blame you," he gritted to Impulse.

"He is really sorry, he hasn't been able to say anything more than 'I'm so sorry' he is insanely sorry!" Impulse insisted trying to defend his sad lump of a bound.

Jimmy pushed his chest, "I don't need it from you," Jimmy pulled his jacket off of Tango's battered face to let the golden sun attempt to give him his glory back, "I want more than an apology," Jimmy looked at Etho who was grasping Joel's hand desperately; they were not known for showing affection. "I'm sorry Etho," he hummed tapping his shoulders kindly, glancing at Cleo who stood behind him staring down the pit, "and you as well, Cleo." Tango only talked highly of Cleo and the rest of Team BEST, so he took the time for them, excluding him. He didn't want him to get a touch of clouser. Jimmy shifted his hold of Tango, he glued his eyes to the direction of The Ranch.

Joel hushed something to Etho that he didn't dare to even try to eavesdrop on, he could hear Cleo's rich voice yell something argumentative. But he didn't care anymore.

Jimmy kicked open the gates of The Ranch so hard the hinges stuck open, he grumbled not slowing. Jimmy approached the goat barn which continued to sit empty, he popped down on one knee setting Tango down against the building. Jimmy fell to his side, his negative emotions finally hitting the surface, Jimmy gave a pained cry of agony that rang through him. He was gone-gone and never coming back. Jimmy grabbed Tango's hand, squeezing it almost hoping it could jumpstart his fiery self again. He adjusted his feather that had been tucked in Tango's hair, letting his sobbing tears drop into his once flaming hair. He flopped his head into his shoulder, sobbing harder than he ever had, his body serving to dull the horrid sounds coming from his mouth. Jimmy flopped back trying to take back his tears, afraid to get back on his feet as if they'd cause him to fall to his death again. He wasn't afraid of TnT despites its worse connections to death, but this caught him where it hurt. Jimmy cried slowly getting to his feet, side glancing at The Ranch as if it would relight on fire. He marched into it pulling a shovel out of a chest, using it as a steadying stick while walking to the side of The Ranch. Jimmy dug the shovel into The Ranch's rich soil, taking chunks of it out of the Earth, tossing it to the side, the dust from the scoops sticking to his wet face. He cried as the shovel hit stone, stopping him from making it any deeper. He stuck his shovel in the pile of soft dirt, turning away from the shallow grave, scrounging around for anything to make a makeshift headstone. Jimmy yanked loose stones from the of The Ranch's old foundation, piling them up in his arms. He returned squatting down, next to the hole his tears turning from agony to anger as he set up the rocks in a simple fashion. It wasn't a grave fit for any man, but he couldn't do any better, he wasn't supposed to die. Especially like that. He couldn't help but stare at Tango, he was so lifeless, that sight only caused bubbles of emotions to continue popping. Jimmy approached him again, dropping down to Tango's side and one last time took his hand and brought it to his lips gently kissing it. Jimmy picked up Tango bridal style, lifting his limp body the short distance to his depressing resting place, Tango's clothes instantly tinged brown as a dust cloud formed around him. Jimmy collapsed into sobs as he shifted his painfully still body.

Pressure met his shoulder, he turned to see Martyn and Impulse on either side of him, standing each with a hand on his shoulder and Grian standing not far behind them. His fellow former Southlanders bowed their heads with Jimmy out of respect. Jimmy knew he didn't look very pleasant, but he didn't care, he had dirt caked on his hands and face, rips on the knees of his blue jeans, and his jean jacket which was now laying under Tango left him shirtless. Tears left trails of dirtless patches down his face serving as more evidence to the others he was hurt, as if his puffy eyes and sounds of agony that had been heard throughout the whole area wasn't already enough.

Jimmy looked at his former alliance members, "Are you really here for me?" He barely got out.

Impulse extended his hand to him as Martyn stated, "Yes, we are all here for you and Tango of whom we are all deeply saddened for."

Jimmy stood noticing how almost everyone was there, he felt a little silly for standing there in front of all of them. "Thank you," he whispered to the three in front of him. He hugged Impulse who patted his back as he leaned into him, Jimmy felt frozen trying to figure out what he had to say. He had to be the one to say something, he scanned the group looking over his shoulder, "Thank you all for coming, this means a lot." He wiped his face only smudging dirt, he looked back to the grave failing to hide tears forming in his eyes again.

"Tango was lovely," Grian walked up next to him, leaning his head against Jimmy, "he meant a lot to all of us." Grian stepped forwards grabbing the shovel scooping dirt, setting it onto Tango's chest. Jimmy's eyes filled overflowed with tears as he watched the dirt lay there, he gave a simple defeated huff. Grian hugged him, "glad to see your wings again bud, I can help whenever you're ready,' he whispered into his ear. Jimmy nodded slightly, flexing his wings mimicking Grian's natural resting position. Grian dug the shovel back into the loose dirt returning to the group, grasping Scar's hand softly as he stood back. Jimmy noticed that Scar was using his wheelchair that day, he felt horrible knowing he must have overworked himself trying to help find him.

Impulse, who was still standing close to him, breathed in adding, "You're welcome at the mid-century modern home anytime if you ever need a break from all this," he too took a scoop of dirt, "Tango was a tricky soul in the best way possible." He too sifted the dirt into the grave slowly, Jimmy smiled for a moment almost forgetting this was his soulbounds fault.

Jimmy stared back seeing that Bdubs was one of the only ones yet to make an appearance, he grimaced, "I don't think that's something I can take up," his eyes snapped back to Impulse, "your husband has yet to make his homage."

Impulse furrowed his brows making an unfamiliar expression, "I'm sorry," was all he mumbled as he stuck the shovel back in the dirt. "Owww," he whined as he walked back to the rest. Jimmy smiled as he turned to see Cleo grumble something being in his face.

Cleo gave him a good shove, knocking him into the dirt before walking up to him, "hi Jimmy," her voice softened, "I'm deeply saddened by this all." She pulled him into a soft hug, "it'll get better with time," she stepped back keeping her hands on his shoulders, "I am sorry for all my wrongs against The Ranch." She slowed her hands away as she peered at the dirt looking back at Jimmy, he side smiled nodding. Cleo turned grabbing the shovel taking a generous scoop of dirt spilling it gently onto Tango. She set down the shovel, pausing squatting down to wipe dirt off of Tango's face, she fumbled his hair. "Hmph, he seems so peaceful,' she hushed standing up, she crossed her arms in front of her, "I'm gonna go deal with him," her voice itched with anger.

Jimmy dropped his head watching her feet leave his view, he found his once pleasant, well kept shoes were now muddy beyond recognition. For the first time since setting Tango in the grave, he ungrounded his feet and fully turned his back to him. It felt so wrong, he watched others hush to each other. Etho was crumpled sitting on the ground whispering something up to Joel, Joel seemed less enthused by what he was saying. Etho pulled Joel's shirt trying to get him to listen, Joel made a defeated face.

Joel sighed walking up to Jimmy, "Aye, Timmy," he sounded uncomfortable looking at Etho, "well I had no connection to Tango, but uh," he paused thinking, "Etho did though. He wanted me to tell you he was a great hand with all his troubles." Joel forced something into Jimmy's hands, Joel moved away quickly, skipping to the dirt taking one swift scoop then another careful one dropping it at Tango's feet. Joel ran back to Etho, Jimmy could just not quite make out what Etho mumbled to Joel, but it didn't seem happy.

Jimmy loosened his hand, a heart necklace? It had what seemed to be broken loops and "b e s Tango" sloppily engraved in the back. He tilted the heart pendant in his hand noticing the tinged red look of it, it hit him, it was Tango's Last Life indicator. Etho had held onto it, his eyes widened as his eyes shot up to him, Jimmy slowed to him. Etho stood up holding onto Joel's muddy hands the way he had before. "thank you Etho," Jimmy cried, "this means so much." Etho glanced up, he could tell even with his mask on that he had a weak smile on his face. Etho nodded dropping Joel's hand wrapping Jimmy in a hug, he was struck by his act of affection. He looked at Joel confused, who only returned his glance with a half assed smile, Etho pulled away from his hug, eyes brimming with tears. Jimmy didn't know what to say, this wasn't a side of Etho he was used to. Jimmy checked out the necklace again, smiling fondly at it, clipping it around his neck.

He scanned everyone present, Grian was standing with his hands in front of him, Scar sat in his wheelchair next to him whispering something, Cleo and Impulse had both seemed to disappear, Pearl was sat elegantly on the roof of the goat barn trying to ignore Martyn, then Ren and BigB we're standing a bit away from the others watching with unsure expressions. And then there was Scott- no, he wasn't going to even give him a thought!

Scar unclicked his wheelchair, rolling it over to Tango's grave, "come, come," he beckoned Jimmy back after silence had taken over the group.

"Okay Scar," he shook Etho's hand, "thank you," he mouthed. Jimmy hesitantly walked over to him knowing how Scar can be. He paused standing a few feet between them. Jimmy, without realizing it, was starting to feel able to cope with it all.

Scar rolled to Jimmy, closing the gap between them, "Jim, we are all proud of you and Tango even if it's ended with a moment like this." Scar grinned backing his chair up, he locked the wheels on his chair before shakily getting to his feet letting himself fall into the dirt. Scar knelt down pushing dirt into the grave silently with his hands, Jimmy watched confusion washing over him. Pearl quickly joined him on the opposite side of the pile, pushing dirt in to avoid his face. Martyn then Ren joined in then wordlessly, followed by Etho, Grian, and BigB. All in a silent agreement to not make Jimmy have to bury his soulbound.

Joel wrapped an arm around Jimmy in a side hug, "we're a family here Tim," he shook his shoulders before also going to join the others.

Watching it unfold made him feel so secure, he watched as the final clumps of dirt covered Tango's face. He was gone, Jimmy joined them on the ground, setting his arms on top of the rough patch of dirt, but this time tears didn't fall. The numbness returned, "you can leave now," he stated, resting his hands over where Tango's beating heart had once been.

Scar turned to Pearl who was across from him, "I'm gonna need a bit of help then," Scar laughed to himself peering at his chair.

"I can help you," BigB invited looking at Grian, "we got you."

Grian scooted over to Scar, "you grab his chair," he directed BigB.

The others started dispearcing with the bounds back to their homes and Jimmy felt hurt watching those leave in a way he would never again. He watched as Grian and Scar, the last pair, waved kindly goodbye leaving him almost alone. He stared at him.

Scott clenched his fists in his lap while sitting where the chaos had started, Jimmy held everything inside him to keep himself from kicking him off the porch. "Jimmy," he forced, turning to him, "I am so sorry, for everything," Scott gave a labored breath, "and for leaving you."

Jimmy scowled, "and now is the time to gain pity points?" he could see through him.

Scott was silent, "I feel guilty," he stopped himself, "but you don't need that."

Jimmy sat about as far away as he could while still being on the porch, "then apologize," he leaned towards him holding a foul expression.

Scott's words stuck in his throat finding the apology he had planned leaving his head. Scott mumbled nonsense trying to formulate his words.

"That's what I thought," Jimmy stood up rolling his eyes, "good job messing this up."

Scott's eyes widened rushing to his feet, "wait! Jimmy," Scott ran after him, "please just let me-"

Jimmy turned to him, meeting his eye level stare, "no!" He shouted, "you've made me waste enough time thinking about you!"

Scott grabbed Jimmy by his shoulders, "just listen to me, please!"

"You're an asshole," he said between his teeth

Scott grasped the back of his head forcing himself onto him, kissing him harshly. Jimmy was caught by surprise, his wings flying up, he bit Scott's tongue in retaliation, he felt scared. Scott held onto his kiss, trying to pretend nothing had changed and that they were still in the game, when they pranced around together claiming each other as husbands.

Jimmy pulled away from him, "What the fuck!" He yelled, slapping Scott, "you're so selfish, you thought this was the right time!" Jimmy spun where he stood, he yelled out an unintelligible sound shoving Scott to the ground, "never come back!" He was filled with a feeling of agony, sobs taking him over, falling to his knees.

Scott froze for a moment before turning to run away, he royally fucked up.

°~-–~°~--~°~--~°~--~°~--~°~--~°

Jimmy sighed wearing one of Tango's old shirts, that was worn from his risky behaviors he'd partaken in since his passing. Jimmy's body was plastered in burns, scratches and cuts from all of his self sabotaging behaviors he hid behind a yearning for revenge. He just wanted to join Tango, but he was too scared to actually do it. He sat on the edge of the barley intact roof of The Ranch. He'd been working on remaking it within the twenty-three days since Tango's death, but he hadn't made it up there yet much more than to contemplate his existence.

Jimmy pulled off his shirt, "hey Tango, I got him for you," Jimmy was saddened but proud of himself for killing Bdubs that day. He felt guilt soley over the blood soaking into Tango's shirt. Jimmy had a gash that ran from his thigh to his calf still dripping with blood that he wasn't sure if it was his own, but he didn't care anymore. Jimmy smiled thinking, maybe he had fulfilled his lust of revenge. He had tried to kill Scott earlier, but he just couldn't finish him off, but at least Bdubs was no more. "Are you ready for me, my boy!" He screamed standing up, his shoes failing to grip the damp shingles, "give me a sign!" Jimmy puffed up his wings as if ready to fly despite his lack of flight feathers. Jimmy laughed to himself which quickly turned to soft cries as he plopped back down to the roof, "nothing? Still?" He tried to hide his disappointment. He sunk his face into Tango's shirt crumpling it, letting it soak in his tears.

Jimmy looked towards the flaming Cake thinking of Scar, he had broken his soulbound, how he didn't know, but the image of Scar putting his sword through Grian was engraved in his brain. He felt proud of Scar through his confusion of the event, Grian did deserve it for his acts of manipulation to them all; he was the one who tricked them all into these games. Jimmy watched as smoke continued rolling through the sky from that day's main event of chaos, a lot of things had met the same fate as The Ranch. Jimmy watched the sky spotting an unfamiliar star shining brighter than the rest, Jimmy smiled up at it, a mysterious feeling of calm washing over him. Jimmy felt safer than he had in weeks sitting there with the company of the stars, he couldn't explain it. He spoke to himself, "maybe another day," he hushed to himself heading back to the ladder down dreading the nightmares to come.

Tango had proven he wasn't cursed to die first after all.

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beevean · 1 year

Note

Let's run the gauntlet! Rate each IDW storyline and Netflixvania season against each other! Like who gets first place in shittiness, who gets second third etc

Not really fair since IDW has more arcs, but I'll try :P

The "best" parts of the two works are S1 and... uh... well this is hard, but I'll go with the very beginning of IDW too. There are already some problems (excessive swearing, lack of Grant/Mr. Tinker and everything related to it), but overall, they're solid, short arcs with not many of the problems that would plague later arcs. I like the fight between Trevor and Alucard, and I like Metal Sonic raining fire and brimstone in his quest to revive his master. Nothing much to say.

I would compare the Surge arc with S2, because, well, #girlboss. Those arcs are all about this new shiny villain strutting their stuff around, declaring themselves the hottest shit ever, shittalking the main villain, and being very, very, very annoying (at least Surge isn't a fake radfem, and tbf, the story never wants us to love her because she's a girl). The heroes take a stepback in favor of the OCs, and a few interesting scenes (the fight against Dracula, the potential of Surge's brainwashing and Kit's cutting speech against the "heroes") don't salvage what's ultimately a very boring, drawn out arc. I can also draw a parallel between Sonic being an utter smug asshole, and Alucard being so mean to poor Trevor.

Not sure what I'd compare to S4 because IDW isn't over yet. Mmmh, I hate S4 because of shipteases that lead to infuriating scenes, so... the current arc? The Whispangle apology drama vs. the "cute" Lenector scenes, both examples of jarring morality? Carmilla and Lanoline being both ineffectual unlikeable #girlbosses? An unlikely villain (whatever passes off as Death/a growing city) that diminishes the importance of the original villain? Yeah, let's go with this.

First place in utter shittiness goes, of course, to the MV arc of IDW and S3 of NFCV! Three words to describe them both: pointless misery porn.

Characters suffer in graphic detail for the sake of suffering, the morals (if we want to call them that) are cynical - the world is unfair, you can't trust anyone, if you're kind you will pay for it - some scenes are simply unfit for the series - many The Walking Dead vibes in what's supposed to be a Sonic adaptation, the two random sex scenes in episode 9 - and characters are at their most stupid and most OOC, and dare I say unlikeable - this is where Sonic officially turns into a preaching asshole who thinks begging Eggman to turn good and throwing Espio's trauma in his face are good things (plus, you know, the whole Metal mess), and whatever salvageable things about Hector as an anti-villain get thrown down the drain as he falls for the same "pretty vampire manipulates him" strategy again. The ending has some bullshit choices too: Super Silver manages to somehow rip the metal virus away from the molecules of the infected people, Isaac conveniently is redirected to a giant mirror that would bring him and his army straight to Syria.

And at the end, all that pain? No longer matters! Cream is happy-go-lucky after watching her mother "die" and being infected herself. Alucard gets over his trauma after one episode. Hector is willing to exchange stupid dick jokes with the woman who turned him into a pet.

But fans appreciate their "depth", although in different ways: for the MV arc, it's the whole dark and edgy vibe and the "moral conflict" of "should Sonic have killed Mr. Tinker?" (no the whole problem is that Sonic let Metal go and no one cares); for S3, it's everything about Isaac and his "character development" that is supposedly peak writing (yeah I sure like the poor little thing who stole Hector's arc and also killed a bunch of innocents without that ever being addressed again).

#fans don't look #anti netflixvania

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tate-langdon-by-atlas · 2 years

Text

TATE LANGDON BY ATLAS: MASTERPOST

❯ CANON DIVERGENT TATE LANGDON

❯ ROLEPLAYING SINCE 2011

❯ NEW TO TUMBLR RP

❯ WRITING TATE LANGDON SINCE 2014

❯ #ATLAS ( 21 + WRITER )

❯ CRACK RP & SERIOUS RP

CONTENT WARNINGS AND TRIGGER WARNINGS FOR THIS BLOG ARE AS FOLLOWS:

Mental Illness

I write Tate Langdon as being an undiagnosed personality disorder. I was diagnosed with borderline personality disorder, but I don't think Tate has BPD (he might?) and I also don't think he's a psychopath, like Ben Harmon diagnosed. I read that more as Ben Harmon just trying to be cutting and cruel in that moment, instead of giving a professional diagnosis.

Bad language (albeit censored)

Tate Langdon has a bad mouth and curses enough. I am going to censor these to the best of my ability because I am not trying to get into the habit of swearing anywhere... facebook is annoying about cursing and stuff... and it's my main roleplay platform.

Dark themes

American Horror Story covers a lot of dark themes like murder, r*pe, self-harm, ghosts, death, and what not. I will not cover r*pe and sometimes I forget that Tate Langdon r*ped Vivien Harmon. As someone who struggles with r*pe as a trigger, I'm not sure if I pretend it didn't happen or make Tate remorseful... but regardless, I don't really want to mention it anymore.

Horror elements

At the end of the day, American Horror Story is considered a horror show. It may not be scary, but elements from horror movies and novels and what not are all present in American Horror Story and will be present in this blog.

Heads up - I do not strictly follow canon and I do take some liberties.

RULES:

Do not metagame - Example of this is: Tate Langdon is a ghost, but due to the ending of American Horror Stories, I write him as wandering around Earth. He would look human and alive to anyone who sees him without knowing him.

Definition: Using ooc knowledge to influence the plot when your character has no relevant knowledge or awareness.

Do not godmode. I write as Tate Langdon - please do not start writing my replies for me. Please don't tell me how he feels about something your character did, that is up to me.

Definition: taking control of another writer’s character during rp.

Do not feel you need to match my length. Tate Langdon is a character I feel a lot of passion for because I've had him for so long and so sometimes my replies may be very long.

I get excited. You can ALWAYS DM me to ask that I shorten my replies. I may be rusty as he's been shelved since 2016… but yeah.

4. Do not pressure me to write smut. I don’t feel comfortable. Tate Langdon is still 17 years old.

He may have had sex with Violet Harmon in season one, but I don't feel comfortable writing smut regardless, espeically given he is under 18 and I am over 21.

My ONE trigger does not apply to Tate Langdon - it is teacher x student. I am not comfortable with it and it causes me a bit of distress. I’m listing it just in case.

PREFERENCES:

I don’t feel comfortable writing with minors.

While I am an adult, please respect that I do not feel comfortable writing smut. I will not write smut with Tate Langdon because he is 17 forever.

I prefer third person and novel style when writing as Tate Langdon, but I will still write with you if you write asterisk/script style or in 1st person. I would just have to reply in third person/novel style.

I write both #crackrp & #seriousrp — it’s whatever I am in the mood for with Tate Langdon. All of my posts are open, even if not specified. They are only closed IF I state that it is a closed roleplay.

If you really want to reply to a solo/drabble that I posted for Tate Langdon, you can go right ahead. I do not mind in the slightest.

NOT ALL LINKS ARE ACTIVE YET - THIS IS A WORK IN PROGRESS!

For character information - click here.

For headcanons - click here.

For verses - click here.

For open starters - click here.

For storylines - click here.

For solos and drabbles - click here.

For relationships - click here.

For RP wishlist - click here.

For media (edits, songs, memes, tiktoks, etc) - click here.

For starter calls - click here.

DISCLAIMER: I struggle greatly with my mental health and lately my memory’s been slipping really, really bad due to private reasons. I am extremely forgetful lately and this leads me to forgetting replies, forgetting details about specific things. I struggle with constant migraines now as well as dizzy spells and vision issues. This can cause me to go offline without much warning sometimes.

ABOUT ATLAS:

Hello there! Atlas here. Welcome to my Tate Langdon tumblr blog. I am over 21 years old. My activity can be a bit spotty due to real-life stuff and I apologise in advance.

My pronouns are she/they. I've been writing Tate Landgon since 2014.

I am prone to social fatigue, despite being extroverted and relying on socialisation to feel my best. I will never ignore you out of malice or ill will.

I am LGBTQ+, Puerto Rican, Roma-Jewish, and neurodiverse. Please no homophobia, transphobia, racism, antisemitism, or ableism. I grew up speaking broken English so my grammar can sometimes be incorrect. I apologise.

I also have no idea how to roleplay on tumblr, none of my friends are willing to traverse this platform with me, so I feel kind of alone, ngl. A little scared to look stupid tbh.

#tate langdon #ahs rp #horror rp

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unknownimagineblog · 2 years

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In Humanity’s Image // Ajak

Warning(s): !!Eternals spoilers!!, character death

You felt humanity tickle at the edges of your consciousness as your devious nature began to dissipate. Everything within you had begun to fight against it, as your brain continued to chant for you to consume the intelligence they had taken from you. To consume man kind in an attempt to regain the humanity Arishem had so selfishly stole from you.

Although your primal rage had screamed for you to continue your onslaught, your body felt weak beneath you as the sounds of terror began to fill your ears. You groaned, rolling onto your back as your body ached with a new kind of soreness.

“It worked.” An accented voice had spoke, and you opened your eyes to be greeted by the leader of the Eternals herself. The healer, Ajak, stood over you with her glowing palms, and dramatic head dress.

You lunged out toward Ajak, although she easily sidestepped your attack as your body fell out from under you. Finally, you had noticed your outstretched arms that no longer resembled the blue tendrils they had once been. Now, your body had resembled that of an Eternal, or much simpler, that of a human.

“What did you do to me?” You asked, as you looked up toward Ajak from your position upon the ground.

“I had begun to notice the way the Deviants looked to you as their leader. I healed your deviation, and turned you into an Eternal.” Ajak answered, and it caused you to feel like a puppet in your own skin. You were once the apex predator, created with absolute perfection to hunt, and now you’ve been demoted to a being created in humanities image.

Your memories of your creation came forward in your mind, as you sit in the quaint cottage placed off somewhere in South Dakota. The doorway creaked as Ajak entered, and she had the gall to act surprised at your presence.

“Why did you call me here, Ajak?”

“Straight to the point, as always.” Ajak smiled, before motioning to the table in the center of the kitchen. You took a seat upon the stiff chair while Ajak had begun a pot of coffee, and you had begun to grow restless at her avoidance of your question.

You stood up abruptly, prepared to leave before Ajak turned to give you a pointed look over her shoulder. You sat back down slowly.

“You’ve lived thousands of years.” Ajak said, placing a mug before you. “The least you can do is humor me over a cup of coffee.”

You could hear the silent lesson Ajak had been trying to guide you to, that patience was a virtue. That you both had all the time in the world, so might as well revel in it when you get the chance to.

You huffed, before taking a sip from the mug before you only to feel the burning in the back of your throat. It caused you to cough, and you swore you heard Ajak laugh under her breath.

“I don’t want Earth to die.” Ajak said quietly, and you almost hadn’t heard her over the sound of your struggling after taking another sip of the burning coffee.

Looking over to her, your eyes shown your own disparity in a silent discussion that you had felt the same. It was infuriating, constantly being killed only to be reborn again once Arishem felt your presence was necessary upon another planet.

Only the thing was, you’d be doomed to return to your Deviant nature. You’d no longer be graced with the gift of humanity that Ajak had so willingly given you. It felt jarring, knowing the humanity you so desperately had been searching for will be stripped away from you once the Celestial was born.

One thing that pained you deep down, was that with the birth of a new Celestial, the love you shared with Ajak would be torn from your grasp. Your body would be sculpted into a new form for Arishem’s abuse, and she’d be forced to forget the memories you both shared.

“I need your help.” Ajak said once again, and you nodded quickly. Right now, you’d do anything to save this planet you’ve grown to call home, to be with the woman you’d grown to call your world.

She mentioned the Deviants you had frozen in Alaska centuries ago under her own instruction, after you had tamed the Deviants under your control. “Save them for a rainy day.” She had told you with a kiss to your temple, but you hadn’t realized just how rainy that day would be.

“I believe the Eternals will not support my idea of working against Arishem.” Ajak said, with a heavy sigh. You could see the physical weight upon her shoulders as she told you about the Ikaris’ reaction to her humanity saving ideals. You’d never liked that man.

“He’s discovered your Deviants.” Ajak said. “The ones we had left in Alaska, and he’s bringing me to investigate them in a few days time.”

You sighed, realizing you’d have nothing to stand against her Eternals once Ikaris kills them.

“Steal the Eternals’ power, and use it against Arishem.” Ajak said, breaking you from your thoughts in realization. “Use your Deviants to destroy him.”

That’s how you found yourself helplessly watching as your Deviant drained the life from Ajak. She was helpless below the cliff, fighting for her life against the creatures she had vowed to destroy, until she had fallen in love with you.

You fell from the cliff, preparing to call off your Deviants before Ajak stared at you as she hung within your Deviants’ tendrils.

Don’t interfere, she said through a look alone. Save humanity.

Then she fell limp within its grasp, as you watched painfully as it consumed her life force.

You felt anger boil within you as it replaced the sadness flowing within your veins. Never before have you wanted to revert back to what you once were. But now, you so desperately wanted to confine Ikaris in the same death he had forced upon Ajak.

This had all been his fault. If it hadn’t been for him pushing Ajak from the cliff, your Deviants would’ve never stole her power. You both would’ve been able to destroy Arishem together.

But now, the woman you loved was gone as you gathered her limp body within your arms.

You could tell your Deviant’s felt remorseful at their actions, from their bowed heads to their tucked tails. They had a mission, and they followed it without question, but seeing their master so distraught made them somehow feel guilty for it all.

You clutched onto Ajak’s body as you sobbed into her chest, begging for any god to hear your cries, and bring her back. But no such mercy had come, and you were left with her lifeless form as you laid her against the ice.

Your Deviant approached you, the exact one that had drained the life from Ajak. You gently placed your palm against his forehead in some silent form of forgiveness he desperately craved.

“Kill the Eternals.” You said through gritted teeth, as you stared up to the cliff that Ikaris stood upon. You could see the distain in his eyes as he stared down at you, knowing he had always seen you as a lesser being that was undeserving of Ajak’s attention, much less her love. You wondered if he considered descending the cliff, and ending your life himself.

Your Deviant’s ran off behind you, trusting you to cover their retreat as they ran for cover against Ikaris. Your eye contact with Ikaris had yet to waiver as you stared up toward him.

“Kill them all.”

#Eternals #Marvel #Marvel imagine #eternals imagine #ajak #ajak x reader #ajak imagine #I swear I can write stuff without a main character death #but damn does it hurt so good #tw: death #y’all don’t know how hard it was for me to not call her fucking Ajax

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natsukitakama · 3 years

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Headcanon : Softie feat Chifuyu Matsuno

Author note : I wanted to start by apologizing for disappearing I know I'm not the most regular here but I'm doing my best I swear ♡ Currently in a Tokyo Revengers / Re-main mood so you might see some content about it before I can post my last request ♡ Anyway I hope you'll enjoy it cause as promised I'll write something for one of the biggest cutie of TR

Warning : Mention of spoiler if you havent caught up with the manga / Fluffy stuff because I'm softie for him

Masterlist

Chifuyu Matsuno 松 (まつ) 野 (の) 千 (ち) 冬 (ふゆ)

Since he is a fan of Ai Yazawa’s work let’s start by saying he is definitely Nobuo Terashima from the manga Nana I won’t take no for an answer this is definitely him. He is Nobu who somehow travel through manga universe to come in Tokyo Revengers giving us the fluff we were longing for

Just imagine him with Nobu piercing haaaaa I’m done

The fact that Wakui told us that he got no success with the woman is a liar, he is just too busy with his Toman duties to acknowledge people crushing on him.

He is definitely the popular guy who didn’t know that he is attractive you know ? In shojo sometimes you got that character that is absolutely gorgeous basically an angel on earth but is self-degrading because they believe they are not good enough not attractive enough ? That’s him. I mean the guy is really cute. He is very respectful, loyal to everyone he cares about he reads shojo he got a lovely cat and work at petshop and he got these bad boy vibes (And a bike !) what do you need ?

I believe that with the busy year he got from trying to know if Baji was really a traitor to work with his partner Takemichi in order of taking down Kisaki (and saving Fuyu’s life in the process) I don’t think he really got time to check his option and really take interest in a relationship.

I believe that in his high school he’ll start to take matters more seriously, he is already working on a petshop, he is little by little living again after Baji’s death. He knows to accept that not because Baji isn’t here anymore it doesn’t mean that he -Chifuyu- needs to stop living.

*So yeah I can see him starting dating during his high school year, it doesn’t mean he’ll find someone directly but now Fuyu would be more « aware » of his surrounding.

But let’s be real

He is romantic baby

And because he reads like a tone of shojo he misunderstands some event that happened to him, not in the wrong way, but like Shinichiro used to he saw every act of kindness coming from someone as a way to flirt with them you know ? Like you’re giving him his bag of groceries with a smile, your hand would brush against is. He is done for the day, he won’t stop thinking about you, daydreaming that it was a way of showing him you find him cute. Since you were adorable yourself it didn’t help his heart.

After one or two embarrassing stories, he finally understands the meaning behind action and won’t jump into conclusion each time someone is being very nice to him

Like many Tokyo Revengers characters I believe he needs someone very sweet and caring, because Chifuyu went through a lot and despite what he might say he never really stopped thinking about Baji and what he could do to protect him.

So he’ll need you to wipe his tears and remind him that he did everything he could and that his best friends wouldn’t want him to cry during his whole life because of him, after all he was part of Baji’s treasure so he needs to act like it

Enough with the angst we need fluff right now

He might not be the clingiest boyfriend (Because who can be clingier that Mikey ? Yeah) but he is very present. The boy can’t live without holding your hands and if you’re not comfortable with PDA be sure he’ll wrap his pinky against yours.

Also I saw him as the one who give pat head and kiss at your forehead easily (he saw it on a shojo and he wanted to do it) and since you tend to be a a blush mess because of it gives him confidence to do it again

I say on another headcanon that Kazutora was a kisser’s addict remember ? Chifuyu is another one.

Instead of « just » kissing you on your lips, Fuyu would kiss you everywhere from your hand to your hair. He just loves giving you pet and he finds every occasion to kiss you. Good grades ? A kiss. Feeling sad ? Kiss. Hungry ? Kiss. He kisses you all the time, sometimes he even went as far as to cover your whole face with kisses just to hear you giggle which make him chuckle (god his voice is so attractive).

But I have to say that his kiss your lips are the most intense, maybe it’s because he reads way too much shojo, but he always put his hand on your hair before kissing you and won’t stop until his body tell him he really needs to breath.

Oh he is praiser too, not in a sexual way (also it might be but that’s not the point), he just loves you so much ? He just feels like he needs to simp over you, like praising you reminds you that you’re incredible.

He is so proud of you have no idea

As I previously said he is really into PDA but he knows not everyone is fine with it and his worst nightmare is you forcing yourself and being uncomfortable about him. Don’t hesitate to put boundaries and tell him what’s okay for you and what’s not okay he won’t mind quite contrary. Now that he knows what he can do he will pumper you with affection knowing that he is making you happy

Yeah because your happiness is REALLY important to him, he can’t stand seeing you sad, angry, depressed it’s breaking his heart. You’re his sunshine. You’re glowing and your light shouldn’t shattered because of bad emotion, so anytime you’re feeling down don’t worry your boyfriend would be here to provide you anything you want : cuddle, an ear to talk, movie, sweets anything honestly.

Best boyfriend ever with Mitsuya obviously

Will cry each time you bring him a bento like it’s cry from happiness because up to this point with everything he went through he thought the world was against him and here you are bringing him food because you care about him ??? Please can someone give you a reward

And when he started working at the petshop, each time you’ll visit him god prevent Kazutora from being here because Chifuyu would be all over you. Hugging you like his life depends on it, kissing you deeply forcing a moan to leave your mouth because he is that good kisser. If you are wondering why I talked about Kazu well, he was here one day when Fuyu was particularly missing you, he complained all day, he talked to the baby about you how cute you are, what a sweetie you were to him, as if you weren’t here anymore you know ? It didn’t help that you decided to see your boyfriend because you were missing him too, well let’s say that Kazu was in first place to see both of you making out and that he kinda regrets his time in jail.

The word is that it happened a lot before you decided to go to the storehouse to cuddle (Kazu might threaten to adopt your favorite rabbit)

During a long time (if you weren’t aware about what happened to Baji) he never brung the subject of Baji’s death, not because he wasn’t trusting you or anything but because it still hurt to talk about it, and he didn’t want to cry in front of you I can’t explain why. But after a long time when he felt like you two were everything, when he felt like he could talk to you well he decided to confess about Baji, about his life as a Toman member and everything.

Even though you knew he used to be a thug, you were surprised by this confession and honestly felt about it because you could tell that he was missing his best friends.

Not being able to see him fighting the urge to cry, you took him into your arm to cuddle him whispering to him that it’s fine that he can cry in your arm, it’s okay he’ll be fine.

After that you came to realize that in each « Baji’s death anniversary » and during his « birthday », Chifuyu disappeared. Like he woke up like usual but instead of going to work he went into a particular fast food to buy Peyoung Yakisoba like he used to. And then he paid a visit to Baji, not that he never went to see him since that day to be honest he’ll see Baji at least one time each week. During this time he’ll like to summarize everything who’s involved Toman, Mikey everything that might interest Baji. Then he’ll cry, he’ll apologize for what happened because Fuyu still feel guilty for what happened.

You know that he needed to do this alone, even though you wanted to be there to take care of your boyfriend and support him. You knew that one day he’ll ask you to come with him, just be patient

I don’t think I should say it because everyone know it, but he is super faithful ??? Like we’re talking about the guy who gives up his dream job and instead chooses to live his bestriend's one ?

Whether you sleep with him in his bedroom or yours, be sure that Peke J would always be there. I don’t feel like Fuyu would be able to let his baby to his mother or a friend. So he’ll always bring his baby with him. You can consider yourself as Peke J’s second parent.

Speaking of parents, I’m pretty sure you would be all nervous the first time you would meet his mum, but don’t worry even though she’ll act a bit intimately (she does that in order to protect her son) she’ll quickly fall in love with you. So you two would soon talk as if you have been a part of this family since the beginning

Seeing the picture of his dead dad, I assume Chifuyu barely know his father so if you two decided to start a family he’ll do so many researches about how to take care of a child, he’ll ask his mum and every parent he is kinda close too (even those old ladies from his neighborhood)

Because yes I believe he wants children but if you two couldn’t have children, whether you don’t want or can’t have one it’s okay both of you would either adopt a child or a cat lmao. Frankly he can live without children.

I think he is mummy’s boy

He drinks his people juice every day

Honestly you would be treat like royalty (as you should !)

He just loves you so much

I can see him as the type to always bring your need before his own. Like if you two are working he’ll always be sure to cook or clean the house no matter if he was home first or not. He will make you a hot bath for you, even remove your make up and do your morning routine for you.

Tell him he is the best boy he deserves to hear it

Okay this one is weird but I’m particularly sensible when it came to smell and I dunno I just feel it, I think he kinda smells like vanilla or washing powder you know ? Those one who smell like baby, really sweet smell even though he is buying male fragrance he can’t help but smell like some sweet.

It’s a really calming scent like each time you’re brought close to his neck (because he drives you somewhere with his bike, because you are cuddling or because he is giving piggy back ride you because you couldn’t walk anymore) its relaxing you.

He really loves driving you, I can’t explain it I just know it. Each time you’re about to leave he’ll be like « where are you going ? I can drop you here if you want ». Doesn’t matter if it’s with his car or his bike he just loves traveling (if we can call it a travel) with you.

His hair is also very soft, like I don’t know what conditioner he is using but despite killing his hair with bleaching his hair are so soft it felt so good to stroke his hair

I feel like he wears jewelry ,necklace, bracelet, rings give him everything he will wear it and look like a fucking model I’m not making the rule it’s canon

One of his dream is to receive a scarf that you made for him, or anything that you sewed for him. He read so many shojo and each time he saw the love-interest getting a scarf from the protagonist his heart was beating so hard, he was even squealing so hard that he scared Peke J (he gave him a reward to apologize)

Whether it’s with his lovely bike or car, he loves getting you a drive those kind of travel when you know where you leave but don’t know where to go. Sometimes it’s just him driving into Tokyo Road but the fact that you are here talking to him, singing songs with him, it’s just perfect. Bonus point if one of you brought food to eat on his car.

Yeah he definitely enjoy a drive-in movie you know ? Both of you wrapped on a blanket holding each other hand

I believe that up to some point he’ll feel like to marry you, he just wants to see you in your wedding close looking at him and say « I do » when you’ll be asked if you want to spend the rest of your life with him.

He is freaking romantic, and won’t be afraid to be a little cliché. So yeah he tends to go at your date with a bouquet of flowers, a gift. He just loves spoiling you.

During your date he is always trying to get into those cliché situation, bumping into you so your books would fall on the floor and both of you would kneel to take it so your fingers would brush. Or during lunch he’ll feed you because he thinks you look so cute with your cute little mouth opening slightly for him to put food and honestly just the fact that you trust him enough to do that is insane. Oh and he’ll definitely try to do that cliché scene where the boy is leaning against your body so you would be push against the wall, his hands would cage you in as he leans for a kiss.

definitely the type to confess under a cherry tree I’m sorry I know he will

Oh and he tends to whisper a lot in your ear just to see if you’re going to blush or get flustered because of him

He also randomly grabs your cheeks with a single hand just because he feels like it

I’m giving him 100/10 just marry me already please I won’t date anyone if they’re not Fuyu that’s it

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #chifuyu matsuno #chifuyu x y/n #chifuyu x reader #Chifuyu Matsuno x reader #TR #Fuyu x reader #Chifuyu headcanon #Chifuyu Matsuno headcanon #chifuyu matsuno imagines #Tokyo Revengers headcanon #Tokyo Revengers imagine #tokyorev chifuyu #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo rev

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padawanlost · 3 years

Note

I have a couple of questions about Karen Miller/Traviss (are they the same person?) who wrote the Clone Wars novels. Are they still considered canon? Also, I heard that Karen Traviss was abused online or something, was that over her Star Wars novels? Really, I mean that just takes toxicity to a new level.

This is a hot topic but one that desperately needs to be explored because to this day people are still spreading misinformation about that happen as a way to ‘defend’ their points. So, here we go:

Karen Miller and Karen Traviss are not the same person.

Karen miller wrote novels like The Clone Wars: Wild Space and the Clone Wars Gambit series.

Karen Travis wrote novels like The Clone Wars movie novelization and the Republic Command Series.

Both, in my opinion, are very talented writers but both also suffered thanks to sexiest and overzealous fans. There are many reason why they became ‘infamous’ but the main reason is their political stance. They both had a lot of sympathy for the clones and the enslaves citizens of the GFFA, and both were not shy about calling out the Jedi Order and the Senate for their inaction. Of course, jedi stans hated them. To add insult to injury, Karen Traviss was the writer who ‘killed’ Mara Jade (btw, this wasn’t her idea but she’s still hated for it).

Karen Miller ‘crimes’:

Her biggest ‘offense’ was being mistaken by Karen Traviss (more on that later). Beyond that all she did was write Anidala and portraying Anakin and Obi-wan as good but flawed people. This is the kind of stuff she wrote:

“Coruscant was out there. Padmé was out there. There was a heart in his chest, beating, but it was only an echo. She was his true heart. She was his home.” - Karen Miller’s Clone Wars Gambit: Siege

“He saw himself a candle. He saw himself behind a wall. Brick by brick he tried to raise it. Brick by brick, it was destroyed. Every death was a hammer blow. Every loss a chisel. The Sith were a wily foe, they knew where and when to strike. They were drawn to weak places, to old griefs and unhealed wounds.” - Karen Miller. The Clone Wars: Wild Space

To weep for a fallen comrade was to display unseemly attachment. A Jedi did not become attached to people, to things, to places, to any world or its inhabitants. A Jedi’s strength was fed by serenity. By distance. By loving impersonally. Karen Miller. The Clone Wars: Wild Space

Nothing particularly edgy or offensive. Imo, she’s one the best prequel writes in the game.

Karen Traviss ‘crimes’:

Beyond killing Mara Jade, she’s known for being critical of the Jedi and Republic and advocating for clone wars. She supported the highly offensive and controversial idea that clones were human being who deserved the freedom. She also believed that love (romantic or platonic), family and friends were not inherently evil and that Order made mistake by banning them.

Karen Trraviss is also know for writing so much of what we know of Mandalorian culture and she struck a nerve that too.

She wrote things like:

“The only thing [the clones] all had in common was their appearance—although they were starting to age differently, she could see that now—and what the Republic had done to them. Apart from that, they were individuals with the full range of virtues and habits of random humankind, and she now felt completely at home with them. If she had a side in this war, this was the one she chose: the disenfranchised, unreasonably loyal, heartbreakingly stoic ranks of manufactured men who deserved better.” Star Wars - Republic Commando: True Colors by Karen Traviss

Serenity, my backside. Passion. Passion and anger and love. That’s what this galaxy needs, not serenity. Passion for change. Anger at this brutality. Love-buckets of it, for everyone, love between child and parent, between spouses, between brothers and sisters, between friends. We need more attachment, not less. Attachment can stop us from tearing ourselves apart. The Clone Wars: No Prisoners by Karen Traviss

He wanted to ask her why only a handful of Jedi objected to a slave army, and why they could claim to believe in the sanctity of all life and yet treat some life as being exempt from that respect. [REPUBLIC COMMANDO: TRUE COLORS BY KAREN TRAVISS[

Fandom (over)reaction:

Because of her ‘polemic’ takes, she started getting a lot of hate from the fandom. She used to interact with the fandom and her reward was to get constant death and rape threats. Some fans threatened her with ‘corrective rape’ to change her mind about the Jedi Order and other topics. Apparently, she responded by calling these fans ‘talifans’.

And the fans used that reaction to further vilify her. she was accused of hating the Jedi Order, of favoring Mandalore over them, getting the size of the clone army wrong, of ruining the OT by killing Mara Jade and now, of attacking fans. She was basically bullied out of the franchise.

However, her depictions of Clones and Mandalorians as heroes, while portraying the Jedi as petty or villainous, frustrated some fans, who felt that her stories and characters were counter to Star Wars. These fans wrote negative reviews of her books, and created a petition to George Lucas to stop Traviss from writing further Star Wars books. Traviss also received rape and death threats. Traviss wrote about these experiences on her blog, attacking the fans who created the petition, and likening them to Muslim extremists by calling them "Talifans." Traviss ultimately retired from Star Wars writing due to the threats she received. [x]

It got to point where she had to write an open letter to the fandom explaining she DIDN’T hate the Jedi Order, she just didn’t believe things like war crimes and slavery should be so easily overlooked.

“No sane human can hate someone who doesn’t actually exist. From a writer’s perspective, the more super-powers characters acquire, the harder it is to develop logical story arcs and true human drama…but I don’t have any real feelings about fictional characters that stay with me once I step out of character-point-of-view-writing mode and get on with my life […] My real problem, then, is not with fictional Jedi, but with the people who refuse to believe they can do wrong. – Karen traviss [x]

If you want to know more about this, check this out :)

Now, back to Karen Miller

A few years ago, a popular sw tumblr tried to discredit Traviss writing by spreading the info that she was a sexualizing Ahsoka with Bail so people started hating her for that too. Thing is, Karen Miller was the one accused of doing that but here is the deal:

Neither Karens ever wrote Ahsoka interacting with Bail Orgarna. What actually happened was that someone wrote a fic about Bail sexualizing Ahsoka on fanfiction.net, someone read it and decided the writing style was similar to Karen Miller’s so OF COURSE it must be Karen Miller who wrote the fanfic. Thanks to that genius level of deductive work, over the time people started saying that Karen Traviss wrote about Bail wanting to fuck Ahsoka as extra proof that SHE IS EVIL and should not be taken seriously.

Conclusion

Regardless of what you feel about someone writing, it’s NEVER okay to send them rape or death threats. Never! unfortunately, some hardcore jedi stans still spread the ‘karen traviss was attacking us’ without explaining exactly transpired between her and the fandom. According to their narrative, she was the *only* one in the wrong. That’s why there’s so much misinformation about her and what truly happened online.

My take on this ‘controversy’ is very simple: stop sending rape and death threats to women. I don’t care if you agree with her or not. The moment you believe a women *deserve* to be rape or killed, or support those who do, you lose any more ground you might think have. The situation becomes even more dire if it’s done to protect FICTIONAL CHARACTERS. 🤦‍♀️ I swear...this fandom....

#ask #englishlady #sw meta #sw fandom #karen traviss #txt #karen miller #meta: fandom

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hohoz · 3 years

Text

The ones that suffer the most

I wanted to talk about this for a long time.

I’m a Resident evil addicted, I finished almost every RE game released and I must say that Capcom made some poor choices regarding Jill and Chris, they are EASILY the most mistreated characters in RE Franchise.

But let’s explain why is that:

Jill and Chris are survivors, they had to survive in a mansion with a lot of puzzles and zombies, while looking for items that could help them to progress and find a way to reach Brad.

When they arrive at STARS Office, they are revolted that Umbrella did all that under their noses and innocents were dying because of that and they explained EVERYTHING in a report - but Irons made that go away.

In the ORIGINAL RE3 we had this special file (Jill’s Diary)

August 7th Two weeks have passed since that day. My wounds have been healed, but I just can't forget it. For most people, it's history now. But for me, whenever I close my eyes, it all comes back clearly. Zombies eating people's flesh and the screams of my teammates dying. No, the wounds in my heart are not healed yet...

August 13th Chris has been causing a lot of trouble recently. What's with him? He seldom talks to the other police members and is constantly irritated. The other day, he punched Elran of the Boy's Crime department just for accidentally splashing Chris's face with coffee. I immediately stopped Chris, but when he saw me he just gave me a wink and walked away. I wonder what happened to him...

August 15th Midnight. Chris, who has been on a leave of absence for a "vacation," called me so I visited his apartment. As soon as I walked into his room, he showed me a couple of pieces of paper. They were part of a virus research report entitled as simply as "G". Then Chris told me that, "The nightmare still continues." He went on to say that, "It's not over yet." Ever since that day, he has been fighting all by himself without rest, without even telling me.

August 24th Chris left the town today to go to Europe. Barry told me that he would send his family to Canada and then he would follow Chris. I decided to remain in Raccoon City for a while because I know that the research facility in this city will be very important to this entire case. In a month or so, I'll be joining with them somewhere in Europe. That's when my real battle begins...

For some weird reason this file isn’t available in RE3 Remake.

But ok, here we see that Chris was doing some investigation - in the RE2RMK you could see this letter that Chris left in a way that normal people wouldn't understand - the only thing that Claire says is that “doesnt look like him” but how normies would understand what Chris is like is he is not well represented in media ??????????????????

And Jill had all the detective work in her wall.

So far so good - we understand the basics about them - they are Special police force, the elite, they had a traumatic experience and they survived to tell the story.

Some problems until now:

Jill had a MAJOR personality change in RE3 RMK- I honestly like most of that, she is a badass in the originals and she is a badass in the rmk but I still dislike the fact that she swears all the time (specially because in RE1, RE Rev, RE5 she doesn't do that)

We can tell a lot about her personality just looking at her room, but I still miss some stuff (I had expectations - so this is not a real problem. but still) like a Vinyl player (since she is probably into classical music), some letters from her father so new players can understand her origin and why is she so good in lockpicking and more about her dog (she had a pic in the original that could’ve been her boyfriend but it was replaced by a dog in RE2 rmk but in RE3 Rmk there in no dog)

Okay - after you finish the game the only thing we see is this:

In my opinion this is Chris since he is always associated with Green colors while Jill is associated with blue.

So my speculation here is that she found him while in the original we had this:

This is not a major chance but still is important (lore of course - duh) but the problem here is that while Jill is looking for him - Code Veronica is happening.

So I can only assume two things, they did not show him because they DON’T HAVE A FACE FOR HIM or I am wrong and that is Jill, but if that is Jill so why there is no decent epilogue like the original ?

Okay, now we are arriving in the real trouble area

I will do RE5 first and the Wii and Rev1 (even tho those two comes first in the lore)

RESIDENT EVIL 5

So before the game was release we had some propaganda, including this:

So have in mind that Jill was dead, I thought that she died and RE5 would explain that shit.

But in the beginning we see that Chris is looking for her and have in mind that Chris HAD A MAJOR CHANCE IN HIS APPEARANCE, and I’m not talking about his muscles.

I will not address Chris in CV since he was good in that game but I the team that made CV also made the original, it had CONSISTENCE.

Here we have Chris, he’s THE classical american soldier protagonist from Hollywood in the 80′s/90′s and he had some omage to TOPGUN

He also shares some traits with his sister

A major trait here is that HE HAS BLUE EYES, typical good looking soldier from US.

and now let’s have a look at Chris in RE5...

Yeah... I still hate this face even tho I love his Character in this game, this ugly a** monkey looking mf and he had a lot of steroids

So we have some lore to him in RE5, Jill and Chris went to a mansion looking for Spencer (one of the fathers of Umbrella and the one that was behind project Wesker, he wanted to do this Virus so he could live forever, so RE has a good lore, it’s not just about zombies) but when they found him, he was dead and Wesker was by his side, in a fight Jill sacrificed herself to save Chris’s life.

Chris started doing mission after mission because her body was never found, and he made a name for himself, he became a ‘legend’ inside BSAA and you can see that in the beginning of RE5.

The reason behind the muscles was probably to fight Wesker mano to mano but still is not well made, it really felt weird playing for the first time.

So now we have a problem here, there is thing that you use in a narrative that is to make someone strong af powerless, and they did that to Jill. (a good example of this is in TWD- Ricky is a fucking legend and Negan made him powerless in the face of a event)

Jill was used in a Boss fight and that is it... She is not in the game as a character, she is being manipulated and her whole design was changed, she looks like Nina from Tekken. WTF. - BTW, the fact that Wesker had mind control over her created 1000 fics of sex

So that is it, my main problem here isnt Jill itself, but it’s the fact that they used her character as a boss even tho she is the heroine, she never appears in RE lore again until some guy inside Capcom said “Well people are asking about Jill so let’s place a file in Rev2 saying that she is in rehab”

The only time that she appears again is in a 3DS NINTENDO ONLY game, it felt that Capcom simply don’t care about her character.

By the way Revelations 1 is a great game and was adaptable some years later for PC and consoles

But you think that this is bad, wait until we arrive at RESIDENT EVIL 6

When I learned that Jill was not in RE6 I was mad... But after I played that game I said “thank you God” that game was bad, transformers kind of bad, it had bad writing, the lore was all over the place and Chris was the one that suffered the most in this game.

He was responsible for the death of an entire squad, suffered amnesia and people still wanted him in the command

THEY MADE HIM AN ALCOHOLIC

The golden boy of BSAA reduced to THIS.

By the way, the director said that HE WANTED TO KILL CHRIS IN THIS GAME to SUBVERT EXPECTATIONS - so if you liked Piers now that he died only because of that.

So now let’s analyse what we know:

The first 2 main characters are not well represented in media until RE6, they don’t know how to re introduce Jill in the games and Chris was reduced to a normal guy at a Russian bar;

But it gets worse...

Capcom LOVE Leon, we know that. he is always the hero, he is the protagonist in almost every movie and he is always the cool guy so when he get’s a new model, he looks like this:

But When Chris get’s a new face he look like this:

WHO DAFUQ ARE U, no offense to the model but he has NEGATIVE JAW LINE.

And still he doesn't look like Claire’s brother, there is no blue/green eyes and he looks younger that he was in 6 (and 6 still uses that ugly character model)

But let’s go in the lore- we HAVE 0 info on Jill in RE6 / RE7 and no sight of her in RE8

And speaking of which, they tried to make Chris the bad guy in the trailer so when we play we see “Ohhhh he was not the bad guy, that happened and that is why he did that”

But still...

If they are going to do that to his character don’t use this character, shit ! Do something with that Wesker’s son that made 0 sense in RE6 but leave Chris out of this - it really feels that they simply don’t know how to treat him right

And you may think that I may be complaining a lot because of his appearance

But this is him in RE8

(to me this is some random dude from Russia)

And this is him in RE:Verse (that is going to be release TOGETHER)

So this tells me that they have 0 clue of how to handle his looks

Jill got RE3Rmk but it felt like a cheap game compared to RE2Rmk where the original RE3 was SO MUCH BETTER

And this is bad because there are so many new fans joining the fandom only to see 2 great characters suffering from poor director’s choices.

I’m sorry about this rant, if you like Chris face and looks its okay, really, but dont tell me that Chris from 5/6/8 is the same from 1/CV and if you think im wrong about Jill its fine, but she is an amazing character that could have so much more impact in RE universe (I mean, she never even appeared in a RE movie - animations)

But it’s sad to see so many characters that receive good representation in media and good games/lore while Jill get’s almost none and Chris is handled like random face guy.

I was going to talk a little bit more about Rev 1 and RE Umbrella Chronicles but there is no need since Im mad right now and it seems that Capcom has 0 interest in making Code Veronica and Umbrella’s fall after that since their fav boy Leon need a rmk in RE4 even tho RE4 is not that old.

Bonus:

Fun fact: Chris served in the Air force, so yeah, to me even Tom Cruise looks more like Chris than Chris from the games

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daaziscoolbesties · 3 years

Text

minecraft endermen are really weird. theyre unnatural and make me feel off.

when i was a small child like seven years ago i would always play minecraft on creative mode and i made an ugly ass enderman "farm" made out of bricks. i had an enderman spawn egg and id just spam it and the enderman couldnt get out (so i thought). anyways having them in this enclosure was probably so i could feel "powerful" over them because to date theyre still the only mob in minecraft that makes me anxious. even above skeletons(which i used to have a horrible fear of (the real life ones not mc ones)) and spiders (which i still have a horrible fear of (again the real life ones not mc)). anyways the endermen just ended up completely teleporting out of the farm and i checked on my world the next day and they were all gone and i didnt appreciate it (this was the same world where my brother blew up my pets but thats a different story).

anyways back to endermen. besides the fact that i just didnt like dying and i did like building ugly structures, one of the main reasons i didnt play survival much for a while, or if i did id put it on peaceful, was because of the enderman. every time i passed one my heart would drop and if i happened to look it in the eye on accident my throat would feel like its closing up and idk why. if it sounds like im bullshitting you or not remembering correctly i swear im not because it still happens actually.

i play survival a ton more now simply because i enjoy it more, it feels like theres actually a goal to achieve, but i never really make efforts toward said goal(ya know, beating the dragon). none of my worlds are really created with the intention of beating the dragon, and therefore i dont have to worry about endermen. if i happen to be outside my house and theres one there, no worries i just wait for it to go away. it may spook me for a sec but im fine.

but recently me and my sister started a world with the sole purpose of beating the dragon. we may have cheated a little (like putting on keep inventory cause honestly we both suck at pvp and have died so many times) but its okay cause thats it. we still have to fight endermen to get pearls for the end portal. and so we were hanging out in the nether and made a little two block tall hidey hole and id stand by the front and taunt endermen to get them to come close so i could kill them without them being able to get to me and it worked really well actually. except for the fact that to get them to come near i had to get them to aggro onto me and to do that i have to look them in the eye and you know where this is going. and so i was like "it has been so long since i looked an enderman in the eye surely i cant still be scared of them" and i turn to my sister like "<sister> you stay in the hole ill get us some pearls"

so i go out and taunt the dudes and guess what bitch got the pit in their stomach from these fuckers!! thats right bestie and my throat started to close up and i started talking to my sister again but i could tell me voice was off from it and i dont know why it happens but it pisses me off. like theyre not even scary looking theyre just a bit odd. and i continue to do this and kill the endermen and it just. doesnt. stop. my throat keeps closing up and im not "in pain" or anything just inconvenienced like what the fuck dude its a bunch of fucking pixels. i dont know its weird.

and now this part is gonna sound super fuckin stupid but ever since i started watching dsmp i immediately got attached to ranboo (cc! and c!) and knowing that c!ranboo was half enderman made me really think "hm endermen arent that bad. granted i havent interacted with one in a while but still not that bad. perhaps my favorite hostile mob" because you know people get attached to characters and think dumb things. and then again ranboo's character straight up existing and also this one specific headcanon i saw that was like "endermen use telepathy to talk so when a player looks at them all their thoughts get projected into them and it hurts their brain :((" makes me feel kinda bad for aggro-ing them and killing them again even though its literally just some pixels dude. my brain is not kind to me about this stuff and its really dumb.

i dont know what about the endermen staring back at me sets off the sort of fight-or-flight that makes me unable to breathe for a second but its something. its not the fact that their jaws basically unhinge when theyre mad because the throat closing up sensation happens before that. it happens when i look at an enderman and it looks back up at me and holds my gaze. i dont know. i dont know why im worked up(even slightly) over a video game. theyre still my favorite hostile mob i think (not just because of ranboo honestly the other hostile mobs just kinda suck).

and also i like the idea of how humanoid they are. not human. humanoid. they have the basic aspects of a minecraft human- square, head, torso, legs, arms, eyes. most mc skins dont even have mouths anyways just eyes. but the endermen have these features differently than us. their eyes are unnatural, legs and arms too long, body all one color, one that can blend in, and you can only see its purple eyes staring you down from a distance. theyre basically just cryptids.

despite skeletons and even zombies looking closer to the player than the endermen, they still seem the most human-like of all of the mobs. they arent aggressive unless provoked. they dont like eye contact(socially awkward). they like picking up stuff and moving it around. theyre curious (i cant explain this one they just are, okay?). even the sounds they make are just phrases like "hey" "hello" "whats up" distorted and in reverse.

i want to know more about them.

i want to know where they came from.

why theyre found in every dimension.

why they sound like us.

i want explanations, i want to know why they scare us.

i want to know if they know.

if they know that we're like them in some way.

that some of us dont mean harm, but for others thats all they want to do to the endermen.

i saw a post once that said "what taught humans to be wary of things that look human, but arent?" i believe the phenomenon is called uncanny valley. what if in the minecraft universe, the thing that taught us that was endermen. or rather, the thing that taught the endermen that was us? because again, the endermen pose no threat to us unless theyre provoked. by one of us. the endermen try to communicate with us- "⊑⟒⊬" "⍙⊑⏃⏁⌇ ⎍⌿?"- but we kill them without reason. thats why they dont like eye contact, its been ingrained in them through evolution that eye contact with a human/player will end in death, and they dont want it to be theirs, so they attack first.

we- or rather, the first minecrafters, maybe (in the lore(?)) people before the game, taught the endermen to fear us. i mean we literally kill them, use their remains to enter their home dimension, and then kill their leader/mother. they do their best to stop us, but we can respawn and they cant. and then, some people even go as far as to make farms, having them all spawn in one place, crowded, cant teleport out- their only defense mechanism gone- and then are slaughtered for their pearls. and due to the mass of these farms there will be chests upon chests full of pearls that no one's using, i saw someone the other day ask what people do with them and someone straight up said they just burn them like god what a waste.

"but izzy, players make mob farms all the time and not just for endermen!!!1!!11! why are the endermen ones so bad why are you only talking about those1!1!1!!!1" 1) because i can, 2) this is an endermen-themed post, and 3) i dont like the other mobs. and of course im not actually mad at the players who like beating the game and making endermen farms and such, i mean thats what it is its all just a game just a bunch of code, 0's and 1's, so why does it matter why bother writing a whole post on it?

because when you look paste the game, when you read in between those ones and zeroes and discover this non-intentional lore, it can make things so much more,, interesting. this is fanfic material. hell, its probably fanart material too. its all for the content to see what the community can create i guess. or maybe i just really like talking about endermen and this has been on my mind for two days now and once i started typing i couldnt stop.

but yeah, thats my final thoughts.

we, humans, experience uncanny valley about the endermen.

but the endermen experience uncanny valley about the players.

#time is empty and thoughts are yes #long post #endermen #minecraft enderman #minecraft #minecraft lore #lore #tw video game death #not really sure if i need to put that since a lot of stuff in minecraft is killing stuff but might as well stay on the safe side with it #god this might be even longer than my other post #at least i formatted it this time #sorta #this post went from endermen make me feel weird to oOoOo psychology at 3 am with no proof real quick #and gonna be honest thats not at all what i had planned but its okay

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blackkatmagic · 3 years

Note

just stumbled upon your work this past week and i just have to say WOW *insert lady gaga meme* talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, show stopping, spectacular !!!!

love how you write abt characters that generally aren't the main ones in fics. it's great to see 'new' characters and perspectives, you create these dynamics that i've never thought of but work so well. love the personalities you give them and how grounded everything feels even when dealing with weird force stuffs.

i read hunting toward heartstill forever ago and don't know why i didn't check out the rest of your work but i'm rectifying it now!

mace and cody?? amazing i love them. these two are going for top spot in my heart. they really have that particular brand of 'done with everyone and everything, also secretly huge trolls' down pat. them in fracture is just !!! breaking my heart but also cute

rex and agen and kix are amazing and love the way you write them. rex is prob my top top fave if i had to pick one and you characterised him so well! can't wait to see where they go. also agen with ahsoka is adorable, he would def tech her how to hunt also them with kit was great. chaotic feral trio!!

savage and sinker are adorable together. they really went from 0 to 10000000 real quick. not sinker being like "he's a sith who has questionable control of himself idk what to do", to "plant yourself in my mind, also i'm mand'alor, also marry me, also here's boba our my kid now" in no time. not savage going along with it. i love it, talk about unexpected faves.

wolffe and feral?? clueless duo numero uno. can't wait for kycina to be like " so your husband/boyfriend etc" and feral going ??? and then she's like " you've literally been doing the dirty right in front of me this entire time wth you think i wouldn't notice?"i mean they themselves haven't noticed it wouldn't be that weird i suppose.

boost and plo are gonna riot once they all meet up again. i mean they're sent away trying to keep two sith safe from the nightsisters, and sinker gets married to his, and becomes mand'alor and also possibly starts some kind of war on mandalore. while wolffe also catches feelings for his and finds his secret mother, and possibly gets involved with some nightsister magics. boost'll have a heartattack i swear, nevermind the rest of the clone commanders. plo will just accept his new sons.

and then the creme de la creme, maul/fox/padme?!?!?! clueless trio ftw, they came out of nowhere and neither i nor maul were ready for this. honestly him checking out fox and padme and then catching himself was hilarious. they do say the best way to a siths heart is by being ruthlessly competent in combat, sneaky, weirdly unexpectedly violent and looking good in red so how is he supposed to resist? omg if i'm reading this right, padme is pregnant with the twins? imagine the twins being rasised by this trio i can't. you can not tell me maul wouldn't turn to straigth mush around those two. he's so done for. also fox would be the best dad, no one could as much as look at those twins without getting a death glare from buir Fox.

oh and also jon and jaster, clueless duo numero dos. jaster is like halfway between wolffe and sinker cus like yeah they're getting married, but him having feelings for his husband was not part of that plan! nope just a political marriage no other reason. is your brand gonna become 'guys is it weird to be attracted to your husband?', cus i would not object. also them bonding over being history nerds is adorable. all of their arguments will be over some archane piece of history no one but them even care abt anymore. honeymoon at the jedi archives anyone?

also myles has my heart thank you very much, is he available? asking for a friend.

sorry this is so long but i have even more words and none of them can encompass how amazing i think your work is! thanks for such great writing!

AHHHHH THIS JUST ABOUT KILLED ME, THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!

#kat answers

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batarangsoundsdumb · 3 years

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yet another ask dump yeehaw!

do you ever think that jay's mother was one of those bitch who believes in horoscope and tarots and things like that and so he believes in these things too, or it is just me projecting?

sheila haywood took one look at jason's birthchart said 'nah this won't do' and left.

Wait, but what happens when the justice league does find out that Bruce and John fucked? Lmao it sounds like it would be hilarious, really, I don’t want a justice league that doesn’t make fun of Bruce for like his entire life.

barry runs out of the meeting immediately and comes back with an entire sti testing kit. diana fully seriously wants bruce to get tested while bruce is sitting there like 'come on guys, you're being ridiculous, i already checked twice'

john is standing in the corner clearly offended while bruce is just like 'don't even say anything, constantine, you fucked a shark'

tim was like "i'm drake now" and everyone was like ahh so your fursona is a dragon and tim was like pffffft no. ducks.

on the one hand, good for him, on the other hand, bro, how do you still have a secret identity when your superhero name is just your last name,,,,

Your fic on ao3 was GOLD PLEASE CONTINUE I loved Dinah's cameo btw ( @purple-vixen

thanks so much! i already continued but this ask is like 10 years old because i'm a notorious procrastinator (also yes! i love dinah so much aahhhhhhhhhhhh)

I've FINALLY been watching the Batman animated series and I gotta say, after watching "the gray ghost" I am CONVINCED that Batman is a closeted super hero geek who was 100% freaking out the first time he met Superman and is just REALLY good at hiding it.

bruce internally: holy fuck holy shit holy fuck holy shit holy fuck holy shit holy fuck holy shit holy fuck holy shit bruce externally: get out of my city, alien

AHHH ur multimedia fic is the only thing that brings me happiness anymore continue it forever pls

uhh thanks, but can't continue it forever because my attention span is that of a toddler on crack on a good day and i can't function without at least 10 things going on at the same time and music in the background

Oi, so I'm getting into dc and watching batman the animated series, and they use fruitcake a lot. Which I thought was very funny and wanted to share w you - Denilla

wait like fruitcake (food) or fruitcake (derogatory) ?

young justice 🤝 teen titans slut shaming batman

tim drake and dick grayson to their respective teams 'you guys stop it, that's my dad'

Happyhoganon: If an eighty year old Batman had fought crime in Gotham City for decades and the only threats to him and the city lately are a wheel chair bounded Penguin, your usual purse snatchers and a few con artists popping up every now and then, how well could the Dark Knight do in maintaining the peace in Gotham despite him being just somewhat fit to do that as an elderly man (which says A LOT given how old he is)

uhh he'll probably do what my grandpa does and that is ruthlessly prank them until they die of shame.

in the death in the family interactive movie there's an ending where Jason is tasked with raising Damian and he decides he's gonna raise Damian to take down the waynes and al ghuls which uh maybe isn't great BUT the idea of Jason raising Damian... PRICELESS. CHAOTIC. I just need more people to know about this :)

yes i saw that wow holy shit but jason would accidentally drop damian on his head one (1) hour in and jason just yeets him into the lazarus pit.

Headcanon: The Penguin has a really hard time fighting any of the Robins because of his avian obsession means there's always a small part of his mind that's like "Birb. Child. Protect" ( @subspacecadet )

as soon as dick becomes nightwing the penguin is like 'you know what, fuck this dude' and shoots at him.

Y'all talking about King Shark dating Constantine, let's not forget about John literally hooking up with Satan

listen there's a clear difference between monsterfucker and satanfucker in that king shark is literally a shark and satan still looks like a normal dude

Does everyone in Gotham think Batman is a teen dad?

everyone in gotham thinks batman has been around since gotham was founded, but they do think that bruce wayne is actually a teen father and dick grayson's biological dad.

why. why would you do that fancast when you know it will only hurt people

what? i loved my fancast it was really well done. i did it with good representation in mind and i really managed that with alfred pennyworth being ✨italian✨

Seeing james charles a jason gave me psychic damage how dare you i need to wash my eyes

well that's a you problem isn't it?

do you think dick grayson thirst tweets about nightwing just to annoy his family/cause problems on purpose in general?

he thinks nightwing is hot, next question.

holy jiminy cricket batman, its as cold as the good lords ass crack in here!!

i- what? this is why i don't fuck with english expressions it's way too goddamn weird

Brooooooo, your teen dad!Bruce au is soooo good. I've got brainrot.

Honestly if you ever write anymore, I'd read that shit twice. Sign me the fuck up. Good stuff, Good Stuff.

uh yeah i'm thinking about writing a fic, but i have exams coming up and i don't wanna fail because that would suck. but after i'll certainly be writing more tho

your teen dad AU is so great! bruce acting like a big brother for all of like a week before he's telling everyone about his son. what if in the AU dick meets the JL because they need to rescue him? maybe he's in trouble/kidnapped at a gala and bruce starts calling for JL. clark finds him and has to fly with dick to bring him home - that's how dick and clark meet and superman becomes dick's fave hero. he goes around the manor thinking he can fly with a red blanket draped around him like a cape.

actually- if you want a young dad! bruce fic with like that kinda stuff(just with damian) go check uhh- in for a penny by cdelphiki. it's really good and bruce is like 24/25-ish. (and dick's there!!!)

This account has solely convinced me that Tim is a trash goblin ( @hamilcat-and-magic-turtle )

because he is. that boy has slept in dumpsters on multiple occasions even if he is the son of a billionaire.

Okay but when you said victory dance I did think of the whole justice league defeating the big bad and then they all start flossing

well that's exactly what hal jordan does and that's why batman uses a gun now. no but the victory dance in my opinion is like the 'we're all in this together' dance from high school musical.

The horrors in Invincible s1 was nothing compared to the comics, I cant wait for s2

oh well okay, i mean i personally react to horror and violence by laughing awkwardly so i can't wait to be called a monster for accidentally laughing at a mass murder.

I'm currently watching Batman: The Brave and The Bold and- Bruce is just talking about Oliver like he's an old love (@nightwings-kid)

okay im going to watch that lmao that's totally and completely in character for him tho.

The invincible comic is like super gratuitous with its violence so much so I'm shocked the show was able to adapt it in a faithful way! Anyway had the show been live action it absolutely wouldn't have the same impact as it does as an animated show and I'm so glad so many people agree with me on that

also because a live action casting would've been like uhh amanda stenberg for amber, the dude- the guy from the supernatural but with a mustache for omni-man, and scarlet johanssen for debbie grayson

Debbie grayson is a milf, yes. You're welcome for the invincible propoganda, now you can questions your life. Bruce def seems like the perfect father next to Omni-man. Like they really took a rip off justice league and I was like well, now I'm attached even tho I was like hah I know who they're supposed to be. And then bam- death gore death gore gore gore sad Mark grayson just had to have daddy issues. Why does every character have daddy issues. I'm sick of the attacks

because daddy issues make a person arguably funnier, that's why i'm not even remotely funny (haha good dad flex). i liked that it was dark contextually, but not in the colouring, bc i hate when it's like 'uh yeah graphic murder and now a shot so dark you have to sit in a dark room and squint at the screen to faintly see the characters. (like dcau ugh)

About the Wayne insurance, for a moment I thought you would put the video with moans over the waves.

i mean- i could've done that, but rick rolling seemed more family friendly.

Its the first time in forever that im surpise rickrolled, i usually expect it. Congratulations (i really should know better this is tumblr)

i get rickrolled so often but i actually like the song so i dont really give a fuck

Actually, my information about Damian and John's kids is outdated because it was revealed that the old men telling the kids stories about the Supersons were actually Jon and Damian the whole time. I was blinded by my thirst for Grandpa!Bruce Wayne but I was wrong... I liked my version better, tbh (@artemisa97)

fair enough. but i'd honestly like to see damian and jon getting together, just because it's a really fun dynamic and their friendship was really cute when they were kids. (also idk maybe it would be nice to have one (1) main batfam/superfam character that's not cishet)

How am i JUST finding your blog skdskfkd you're so fucking funny and ur takes are hot

i thought u were calling me hot :( but youre not :( crime detected (but lmao thanks)

So I have depression and I swear that your memes are one of the few things that have made me laugh so thank you 💛🥺 (@katekanebadass)

aw you're welcome, and i hope you're doing okay!

The metropolis memes are so funny, I love them 💀😌

i think metropolis is also so fucking funny it deserves more attention imagine having your entire police force being upstaged by an alien from kansas and his kids

as an american i feel your complete lack of knowledge of us geography is just so sexy (platonic) ❤️

thanks so much (i also don't know any other geography, i'm not kidding, like you can tell me you're from hungary and it will just blank, there will be nothing that comes to mind)

In the DC universe they don't say "Can't have shit in Detroit" they say "Can't have shit in Gotham"

this just reminds me of that guy whose porch got stolen like the steps to his door, and i'm thinking of people living in gotham and waking up without a front door and going "can't have shit in gotham"

honestly all i know about chicago is the bean, so. what would gotham's famous sculpture be?

gigantic gargoyle statue in front of one of the police precincts because a villain thought it was a smart way to keep the police inside, but it's too heavy to move.

why tf do people go on about how batman "works alone" or how he's the "lone wolf" when he like 38290202 members in his family

bc people think it's cool that a grown man in his 30s has no friends or family instead of calling it what it is (sad)

Bruce is gotham's sugar daddy

why would say something so controversial yet so brave.

my favorite batfamily fanfictions are the ones where they use their shitty codenames, unironically, in any context

dick: gerard way are you in position, gerard way are you in position

tim: for the last fucking time, my codename is 'totally not count olaf' this week, abbafan 3000

dick: shut up my codename isn't 'abbafan 3000'

dick: it's 'abbafan number 1' and you know it

I have a feeling Tim drake is ur favourite batfamily member but okay u don't have favs if u say so ok

i mean he is, i won't deny it. but i love each and every one of the batfam just the same, i just have a weak spot for short dumbass nerds, because i'm a short dumbass nerd.

Omg i fuckin love boy meets world too fam shsjkfk

bro boy meets world was the shit!!! it was just fire and awesome and so fucking great like bro. it was so good im not even going to be accepting criticism

you know I find the whole "joker completes batman" thing a bit disgusting considering the horrendous stuff the batfamily went through because of the joker and let's not get started on the "joker has a point" thing like yeah he's this cool complex villain but he's absolutely batshit crazy

like yes! i get what you mean the joker just fucking sucks man he doesn't do shit for batman's character or the batfam he's literally just annoying as fuck. like the joker has a point' shit is so stupid. i will accept 'magneto was right' because he fucking was and i think he didn't do anything wrong, but joker? he's just like that. he's not even cool and complex he's just a weirdo with a bleach kink at this point.

ALSO YOUR RACISM POST- SO TRUE BESTIE

thanks bestie, i'm glad you agree.

in today's essay of why I think cass should become batman- I was thinking Tim would probably be the most efficient batman in many ways but I also think he wouldn't want to be batman tbh none of the batfamily members would want to be batman because they're trying to outgrow him but cass is the one who wants to represent the symbol that is batman

absofuckinglutely i will say it again and again that cass represents the batsymbol more than anyone in the batfam, in batgirl (2000) she literally didn't care about anything else than bruce's oath to not kill, she thought the batsymbol was more important than anything in gotham. she's just an excellent character because her motivation to not kill is not 'i'm scared i can't come back from it' or 'well my dad says no murder so i'll go along with it' but that she's killed somebody as a young child and she never wants to kill a human ever again and that's so fucking beautiful for a new batman like yes.

need more cass, duke and tim inclusion in gothamite memes

yes yes, a tall order of cass, duke and tim coming up in 1-14 business days

oldest to youngest batfam members cus I'm confused as shit

okay order of being taken in: dick, jason, tim, cass, damian, duke order of age: alfred, bruce, dick, cass, jason, tim, duke, damian (though cass and jason are around the same age general consensus is that cass is a little older)

I'm so confused Steph is a redhead?? like how was it that hard to get this right? the source material is literally right there and free

cw is jared, 19

do you receive anon hate? if so, how do you deal with it

uh no, i'm not remotely popular enough to get anon hate and i also don't say a lot of things that would attract anon hate, but i do send anon hate to @the-real-peter-parker because he forgot about the specialists from winx club

Wait how many languages do you speak??

uhh- 5 if you include latin, but that's a dead language and i'm really bad at it. but english, my native language, german, and french also, tho german and french not fluently.

You can mix aguaepanela with aguardiente 😈 and is tasty

okay but now i'm curious if the liquor deserves the 😈 emoji or if that's a you problem. but i googled it and it looks like something you'd take one sip of and then not remember the rest of your evening.

#i love all of you guys so much thanks for all these asks #some of these are literally from march but fuck it #the day tumblr puts dates next to anon messages is the day i close my inbox crawl into a hole and die #it's such a basic task to answer asks but i don't want to bother anyone with asks clogging up their timeline #and if i don't have a funny or good answer i'm like 'uhh okay won't answer it now then'#so this is for you #also i deleted a few asks because it gives me mental pain to see my inbox go over 50 and it's almost at 100 #i was complaining about having too many asks to the-real-peter-parker like months ago and then i had 45 asks in my inbox #now it's amassed to going over 100 twice #but no i love all of you and you're great and you're all fantastic and i lvoe you #muchos kiss kiss #kiss kiss for my kiddies lvoe you #invincible spoilers #dc #dcu #dc comics #ask #anon #bataranswers #i really wanna try aguapanela now i'm gonna see if i can find panela somewhere and review it for you babes #uh yeah that's it #muchos gracias for all your questions babes

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averykedavra · 4 years

Text

Push My Luck

What’s this? Me posting a prompt pic on the same day as the prompt? Inconceivable! But analogince is The Best Ever, so I managed to do it! It’s enemies to lovers Ultimate, guys. You’re missing out.

(Tagging @tsshipmonth2020! Title from Don’t You Go by All Time Low. You can find this fic on Ao3 here!)

Prompt: Pick your favorite Soulmate AU and write about it! I picked an AU where you receive a black mark where your soulmate first touches you, that turns colorful when they do.

Pairing: Platonic Analogince

Words: 6561

Warnings: death mention, swearing, arguing, insecurity, a very brief fight scene with one (1) punch, crying, a bit of anxiety

Virgil, as a rule, doesn’t take risks.

The world is a big scary place. Lots of ways to get kidnapped or mugged or threatened just by leaving the house. So he tends to do the bare minimum. He doesn’t speak up in class. He doesn’t talk to other kids. He doesn’t mention his soulmates or the fact that he hasn’t met them yet. When the guidance counselor asks him for the seventh time what his career goals are, he just shrugs.

Life is easier if he keeps stuff close to his chest. If he stays out of everyone’s way. If he gives people less of a reason to hurt him. Life is smoother if he hides and life is calmer if he’s quiet.

Life is safer if he lives and lets live.

And today he broke that rule, so is it any surprise that everything went to shit?

He didn’t even mean to. He’d heard the yelling and looked closer, just out of curiosity, and to know if he should start running. It wasn’t anything big. Logan and Roman were arguing in one corner of the hallway. They’d been giving each other dirty looks all through class, so it was no surprise. Virgil didn’t know what their problem was, but whatever. Not a big deal.

Then it actually sank in.

Roman and Logan were fighting.

Roman and Logan.

Roman? Yeah, sure. He wasn’t a great student, and sometimes he got a little passionate about stuff. Or a lot too passionate. He looked angrier than Virgil had really seen him, his hands flying around and his eyes narrowed, but still, it seemed pretty normal.

Logan, on the other hand--Logan was an honor roll student. Top of the class, probably gonna be valedictorian and go to Harvard and take over the world someday. He wasn’t the worst ever, but he was definitely stuck up, and he followed the rules like his life depended on it. Virgil had barely seen him raise his voice before.

And he was yelling.

Virgil couldn’t even make out the words, but he recognized several swears. Logan was ranting and his hands were balled by his sides and he was ignoring all the people staring at them. He looked like a bowstring, drawn taut and ready to fire.

What the hell had Roman said?

Virgil had inched closer, keeping several people between him and the argument. But he’s fucking short, a fact that perpetually annoys him, so he was forced to find an open spot pretty close to Logan and Roman.

They were inches from each other, face red. Virgil’s heart pounded in his ears as Roman’s voice pitched up. Fuck. He shouldn’t have come here--arguing was no fun to watch, and his breathing was already growing strained. Ugh, couldn’t they just stop? Logan was supposed to be responsible, right? And there should be teachers around.

Virgil tried to muscle his way back through the crowd, but nobody let him pass. Everyone was too focused on watching Logan and Roman tear each other apart.

He really hates this school sometimes.

So Virgil was stuck there, tapping on his leg and trying not to panic, hoping against hope that they’d shut up--Logan had called Roman a nasty name and Roman had fired back with something Virgil didn’t fully catch, but it sounded like a threat--Logan had tensed--

And Virgil knew.

In that moment, seconds before it all went to shit, he knew. He saw Logan draw tight, a bowstring, and he knew in an instant that this was gonna blow in Roman’s face.

Admittedly, though, he didn’t expect what actually happened.

He didn’t expect Logan to step forward and punch Roman.

In the shoulder. His fist hit Roman square in the fucking shoulder, and Roman stumbled back. It looked like it hurt. It sounded like it hurt, a dull thump that echoed through Virgil’s bones.

Suddenly, the entire hallway was silent.

Roman bent over and rubbed at his shoulder, grimacing. Logan just stood there, hand pulled to his chest, eyes wide.

Logan hadn’t meant to. Virgil could tell. He opened his mouth, probably to apologize, maybe to ask if Roman was okay--

“The hell?” Roman yelled, straightening. “Why the fuck did you do that? What’s wrong with you?”

Great. Goddammit, Roman, couldn’t you have shut your big mouth for two seconds?

To Logan’s credit, he didn’t immediately fire back. But the apologetic look on his face did harden. “I didn’t--”

“Fuck, that hurts, ow.” Roman gave his shoulder a final wounded glance, like he was mad at it for betraying him. “Christ. Specs, you’re an asshole.”

“I didn’t mean to--”

“You fucking hit me!” Roman yelled. And there it was. There was what Virgil was afraid of--the moment Roman snapped, stepping forward and raising a hand.

Virgil doesn’t remember his thought process. It was probably something like fuck fuck fuck.

But one part of him must have been like fuck no. Fuck no, they were not gonna have a fistfight with Virgil trapped watching them.

Without thinking, Virgil dove between them. He grabbed Roman’s wrist. He pressed a hand to Logan’s chest. And he yelled “Fucking stop, jeez, will you quit it?”

Silence so terrible it almost ripped Virgil open.

Both Logan and Roman were staring at him. Strangers. Strangers he’d barely talked to in his life. Who he’d just ran in the middle of, and what if they yelled at him, what if he got hurt or got in trouble, and the whole fucking hallway was watching, what was Virgil thinking--

Roman didn’t pull his hand away. Logan didn’t move. It was like Virgil had frozen everyone in place.

“Stop,” Virgil repeated, his voice shaky, “or I swear I’ll pull the fucking fire alarm to get you guys to shut up.”

His skin was tingling. He wanted to run, but he couldn’t unglue his feet from the ground. Eyes bore into him and Roman and Logan were still silent.

Roman whipped his hand away first. He cradled his wrist to his chest as if he’d been burnt. Logan just stepped away and left Virgil with one hand extended in open air.

The silence stretched on again.

Virgil felt, suddenly, that he’d fucked up. Deeply and fully. He felt--wrong. No, not wrong. But different, like he’d been skewed off his axis, like something was fundamentally off.

Logan was dead silent. Roman was staring at his wrist. He looked from it back to Virgil, and Virgil caught a flash of purple.

Oh, shit, had he hurt Roman? Good fucking job, Virgil, deescalation by further violence.

“Sorry,” Virgil stammered out. “Um, is your wrist okay?”

Roman just stared at him like he’d sprouted two heads.

Virgil glanced at Logan. Logan was also looking at Virgil, but more like Virgil had been diagnosed with a terrible contagious disease.

Okay, he’d expected backlash. He hadn’t expected whatever this was.

“What?” Virgil demanded.

Roman held up his wrist. A purple smudge where Virgil’s hand had been--a bruise, fuck--

Except, no.

It was a deep, shimmering purple, ridged like Virgil’s hand had been covered in paint when it touched Roman.

Virgil looked down just to make sure his hands hadn’t been covered in paint.

What.

The.

Fuck?

One palm was covered in red ink, the other in blue. And before today, they’d been black, because that was his soulmark. He’d sworn they hadn’t changed. But here they were, practically glowing, deep colors pooling in his palms--

Where he’d touched Roman and Logan.

Fuck.

Virgil slowly looked up. Roman had pulled up his sleeve and was staring at a blue splodge on his shoulder. Logan was still cradling his hand, and now, Virgil could see red on the knuckles.

“No,” Virgil blurted out. “Fuck no.”

He didn’t even feel guilty about it. Because no. No, these couldn’t be his soulmates, he must have touched someone else--

“You’re--” Roman shook his head. “Come on. You?”

Logan just stood there, clutching his hand, looking like someone had pulled the world out from under him.

Virgil’s words had dried up in his throat.

And that was when the teachers arrived.

And to make a long lecture short, Virgil is now in detention, seated at a desk between Logan and Roman like they wanted him to keep them apart. He’d tried to say he was just trying to break up the fight, but all the spectators had mysteriously vanished when the teachers showed up, so now he’s here. Drawing circles on his desk and sneaking glances at his soulmates.

His soulmates.

It wouldn’t even be so bad if it was Logan. Logan’s a little bit uptight but he’s smart, whip-smart, the kind of smart that leaves Virgil in the dust. He’s got a firm voice and knows all sorts of words and doesn’t hesitate to raise his hand. He’s in the debate club, and Virgil went to one of their meetings for Jan’s sake--and damn. He remembers seeing Logan on fire, eyes gleaming, making up arguments on the spot and making them sound concise as if he’d practiced them for days. Logan’s a tutor--he helps other students. He works okay in groups. He’s a little socially awkward, and Virgil doesn’t think he has many friends. But neither does Virgil, so it’s fine.

It wouldn’t even be so bad if it was Roman. Roman’s a little bit dramatic but he’s passionate, fiery, so certain that everything he says is worth listening to. He loves to do voices. He talks with his hands and lets them fly around like butterflies, wiggling his shoulders and beaming like just being here is the best thing to happen in the whole entire world. He’s a theater kid. Virgil got dragged to one of those plays once. Roman’s a good actor--Virgil hates to admit it, but he didn’t realize the main character was Roman until halfway through. They didn’t even give him a new haircut or anything. Roman just...stepped into someone else’s skin.

It wouldn’t be so bad if it was one of them.

But it’s both. Red and blue, smeared on Virgil’s hands, invisible when he touches them like they’re stuck beneath his skin.

Both of them.

Logan and Roman.

Who just tried to fight each other.

Shit, why does the universe hate Virgil?

He groans and lets his hands fall to his sides. He glances at Roman, who is twirling a pen in his hands and pointedly staring at the ceiling. He glances at Logan, who is pointedly doing his homework, jaw clenched.

Virgil sits in the middle of them and has no fucking clue what to do.

The best option? Stay put. Shut up. Do what he’s always done. He’s lucky he only got detention, and he’ll still probably be grounded for this--he shouldn’t push his luck.

He runs a hand along the colors, remembering all the weeks and months and years they were pure black. He always wondered how he’d meet his soulmate. Who they’d be. How he’d manage to touch them with both palms first.

Now he’s found them.

And they fucking hate each other, and probably Virgil too.

And they’re sitting with him in silence, and the detention room is empty because the teacher left to file a report on them, and the door is locked but the windows are open and wind blows across Virgil, smelling like old leaves and asphalt and exhaust.

He should be going home. But he’s stuck here for another hour with two people who hate each other. And he’s been jammed between them, a peacemaker, a bridge.

Virgil isn’t good with peace.

But he’s not good with very much, so--why not try?

What does he have to lose, except for his afternoon and his life and his grades and his shaky reputation and the tolerance of the two people meant for him?

“So,” Virgil says slowly, and lets the word ring through the room. “We’re...soulmates?”

Roman glances at him, appears to decide it’s not worth it, and looks away. Logan just keeps scribbling on his homework assignment, but Virgil notices his pencil skids on the paper for a microscopic second.

And they fall into silence again.

Well, good job, nice try, time to give up--except fuck no. They don’t get to ignore him. Not after they got him in detention.

“Yo,” Virgil almost yells, clapping his hands. “Fucking talk to me.”

“And they say I’m the dramatic one,” Roman mutters, but he looks at Virgil, so that’s a start.

Logan, however, just groans and opens up his backpack. He pulls out some earbuds and plugs them into his phone.

“Hey, hey, no.” Virgil waves a hand at him. “Get those away from you. We’ve gotta talk about this.”

Logan mutters something that might be “Don’t think there’s anything to talk about.” But he doesn’t put in his earbuds, so that’s a start.

And Virgil takes a deep breath and he isn’t fully panicking yet. So that’s a start.

“We’re soulmates,” he says again, because maybe they haven’t fully grasped that.

“Unfortunately,” Logan agrees.

“Don’t remind me,” Roman groans, lolling back in his chair and letting his hair flop over his eyes.

“Fine, I get it, you hate me, I hate you, cry me a fucking river.” Virgil sighs. “But...like, shouldn’t we at least try? To talk about this? Soulmates are, like--a big deal?”

“The biggest of deals!” Roman declares automatically, like he’s made this speech a million times before. “Hearts and souls intertwined, chosen by fate to be each other’s companion, in love before knowing of love itself.”

Logan rolls his eyes.

“But,” Roman admits, his hand falling, “I must say that I didn’t expect--um, this.”

“Join the club,” Virgil mutters. “Well, sorry to ruin it for you.”

“You didn’t ruin anything,” Logan says, giving Roman a look.

Roman gasps and straightens in his chair. “How dare you! You were the one who--”

“Guys! Guys!” Virgil holds up his hands. “Please don’t kill each other, that’d be traumatizing.”

Roman gives Logan a sneer before turning away. “I suppose it would be unchivalrous to wound the bitch, not that that stopped him.”

“Chivalry is an outdated concept,” Logan snaps back, but he’s not actively trying to rip Roman a new asshole, so that’s a start.

Virgil takes another deep breath.

“So,” he says slowly. “We’re soulmates. What do we do now?”

“Preferably nothing,” Logan says. “I have homework to finish.”

“You’re doing homework in detention?” Roman shakes his head. “You’re such a nerd, it’s almost too much sometimes.”

“What else am I supposed to do?” Logan asks. “Lounge about for an hour?”

“Beats me, I don’t want to be here.” Roman checks the clock and winces. “I’m missing theater practice.”

“You’re a theater kid,” Logan says, rolling his eyes. “Why am I not surprised?”

“Well, at least I have passion for something, instead of being dry as dirt--”

“Guys!” Virgil yells.

Roman huffs and Logan turns back to his homework.

Ugh.

“Guys,” Virgil repeats, “can’t you have one civil conversation?”

“He hit me!” Roman whines.

“He’s an imbecile!” Logan says at the same time.

They turn to glare at each other over Virgil’s head. Virgil’s now beginning to understand why they hate each other so much--they get on his fucking nerves.

“Then apologize,” Virgil grinds out. “Say sorry and move on so we can actually figure out what to do.”

“Apologize?” Roman repeats like Virgil’s asked him to dance the tarantella.

“Yes.” Virgil leans back and folds his arms. “Fucking do it. Now.”

Logan gives Roman a long look. “Er...how is your shoulder?”

“It hurts,” Roman says.

Logan lets out a quick breath. “Ah. Well...I am...I should not have hit you.”

“Duh, Bill Nye the Science Tie, of course you shouldn’t have.” Roman rolls his eyes. “Kinda-apology kinda-accepted, I guess.”

“Your turn,” Virgil says.

“Ugh, do I have to? I wasn’t the one who caused injury!”

Virgil gives him his best do it or I will cut you glare.

“Fine.” Roman sighs loudly. “I...Logan. Today, I made you angry. I do that quite a bit. And you retaliated with violence, like a stupid caveman.”

Logan looks about to throw his pencil at Roman’s face.

“But,” Roman says hastily, “I should not have provoked you. It was very unprincely of me to be so cruel. So...I apologize. I guess.”

“Then I forgive you,” Logan says shortly. “I guess.”

“So we’re all good,” Virgil says. “I guess?”

From the looks on Logan and Roman’s faces, things are certainly not all good.

But what the hell. It’s a start.

“Great.” Virgil spreads his hands. “Now--what the fuck do we do?”

“We’re in detention,” Logan points out. “We cannot reasonably do anything.”

“We’re in detention,” Roman agrees, sounding like this is the greatest injustice he’s ever faced. “My moms are going to be really mad.”

“Tell me about it,” Virgil groans, because he’s realizing that yeah, his parents are gonna be pissed. “I’ll be grounded for like a month, thanks a lot.”

“I didn’t do anything!” Roman declares. “You were the one who decided to run into the fray!”

“Yeah, to stop you two from killing each other.”

“And why did you care?” Logan asks. It’s a sharp question, sharper than Virgil knows what to do with, and Roman’s own annoyed gaze falters.

“Because--” Virgil catches himself. He doesn’t actually have an answer. Not a real one. He just...did it. “Fighting would get you guys in trouble.”

Logan looks away, and Virgil feels like he’s said something wrong.

“Well, so much for that, Hot Topic,” Roman complains. “We’re all languishing together in this penitentiary.”

Virgil smirks. “Aw, you think I’m hot?”

Roman wrinkles his nose.

“Keep it down,” Logan mutters, bent over his homework again. “I’m studying for my trig test and if I fail, it’s your fault.”

“As if,” Roman says, and Virgil catches a hint of bitterness in the words. “You’ll get an A triple-plus no matter if you study or not.”

Logan sighs wearily. “They don’t give A triple-pluses, Roman.”

“A double-plus, then!” Roman waves his hand. “I wouldn’t know, I don’t get them like you do!”

“Is that supposed to be an insult?” Logan blinks. “Are you accusing me of cheating?”

“I don’t know, are you being accused of cheating?”

“That doesn’t even make any sense--”

“Guys!” Virgil yells. “I am so tired of being the taskmaster here--can we focus?”

“On what?” Roman snaps. “The fact that we’re soulmates? I’d rather not!”

“Soulmates don’t mean anything,” Logan says, slamming his binder closed with a snap. “They’re useless platitudes. Virgil, we don’t have anything else to talk about, so please be quiet and let me work.”

“Useless platitudes?” Roman somehow manages to look even more offended. “Do you have any sense of romance? Whimsy? Fate?”

“Fate is a human construct,” Logan says. “And soulmates have no bearing on reality.”

“Uh, my wrist is purple right now?” Roman waves it up and down. “I didn’t dip it in grape juice, did I?”

“I’m not saying they’re not real,” Logan says, spreading his own hand with red smeared on the knuckles like blood. “I’m saying they don’t matter.”

“Of course they matter!” Roman folds his arms. “Soulmates are the epitome of human connection, they’re someone you’re fated to be with--”

“If that’s the case,” Logan interrupts, “then why am I soulmates with you?”

Roman opens his mouth and closes it again.

“And me,” Virgil adds. “I exist.”

“And Virgil,” Logan says.

Roman gives Virgil a disappointed look. “Cute, but doesn’t make up for my other soulmate punching me.”

“I said I was sorry!”

“No, you didn’t!” Roman rolls his eyes and slouches further in his seat. “I shouldn’t have expected anything, you’re like allergic to emotions--”

“I’m not--”

“Guys!” Virgil groans. “You know what? Fine! I’ll fucking give up! Go sit in silence, I guess!”

“Wonderful,” Logan says.

“Fantastic,” Roman says.

So they sit in silence.

And Virgil could-should-wants to leave it there.

But he’s come so far already. And he’s not gonna give up. Not now.

These are his fucking soulmates, and they already hate him, so why not push his luck?

“We’re soulmates,” Virgil says slowly. “That’s not--that’s not gonna go away.”

“What do you expect me to do about it?” Roman asks.

“I don’t know, accept it?” Virgil holds up his palms. “Soulmates may be bullshit. But they’re not bullshit to literally all of society. We’re gonna get questions. Lots of them.”

Logan nods, and for the first time, Virgil thinks he’s actually listening.

“I could make something up,” Roman says, but his voice is thin.

“No, Virgil has a point.” Logan rubs at his own knuckles. “Besides, half the school saw our little debacle earlier, so doubtless rumors are already spreading.”

“Great,” Virgil mutters. “Exactly what I needed. Attention.”

“It’ll be alright,” Logan says hesitantly. It’s so out-of-character for him and so different than everything else he’s said that Virgil almost chokes on thin air. “Doubtless they will forget in a few days, even if at first things are overwhelming.”

“Besides, nobody cares about you, anyway.” Roman winces under Logan’s incredulous look. “What? Nobody does! He’s, like, a freaking shadow demon--I didn’t know his name until two weeks ago!”

“Wow, thanks,” Virgil says. “Way to make a guy feel special.”

“And I hate to say it,” Roman adds, rubbing at his neck, “but those first few days? People will be on us. So many questions. They’ll want to know what happened.”

“Well...” Virgil summons his courage. “What did happen? I didn’t even hear what you guys were arguing about.”

Logan shifts in his chair and Roman looks uncomfortable.

“It was one of those snowball things,” Roman says, waving a hand. “Y’know?”

Virgil stares at him and waits for him to explain.

“Small stuff turns to big stuff.” Roman bites his lip. “I dunno, I made a comment during class, Specs got on my case about it, and it all just kind of escalated into a big huge mess.”

“What comment?” Virgil asks.

“Don’t even remember.” Roman shrugs. “I think Logan misused infinitesimal. He thought it meant really big but it actually means really small--”

“It has the word infinite in it!” Logan complains. “It is a misleading word!”

“Wait.” Virgil holds up his hands. “You got into a fistfight over one fucking word?”

“I wasn’t the one who tailed me after class to complain about it!” Roman defends. “And I wasn’t the one who made it a fistfight!”

“Jeez, L,” Virgil says, wincing, “that sounds pretty rough. Why’d you get so mad?”

Logan tightens his grip on his pencil. “Roman said, and I quote, ‘Seriously? Infinitesimal means really small! I thought you were the smart guy, why'd you make such a stupid mistake?’”

Logan’s voice dips in the middle and almost cracks at the end. It’s left there, fraying and tight, and fuck, Logan’s hurt. He’s pressing everything into himself, Virgil can tell, and he’s upset.

Virgil repeats the words in his head. They’re not too bad, really--but they also seem to have hit a giant nerve.

“Okay,” he says lightly, trying not to sound as lost as he is, “yeah, nevermind, Lo. I do kinda get why you were mad now.”

Roman shifts. “I--okay. Thinking back, it was not the most...constructive choice of words. But in my defense, he took it way too seriously!”

“Well, you were the one who lashed out like a little bratty baby!”

“You were the one who freaking punched me!”

“Guys! Fucking come on!” Virgil sighs. “Could either of you contribute, like, an ounce of constructive criticism?”

“I will if he does,” Roman says, and he’s half-pouting now. It’s fucking irritating in a way that bubbles up in Virgil’s chest and sets fire to his bloodstream. But Logan’s not any better, staring Roman down like he’s completely ready to go for round two.

“Constructively,” says Logan, “your comment was out of line.”

“Constructively,” Roman fires back, “shut your fucking mouth.”

“You’re throwing a tantrum. I do not engage with tantrum-throwers--”

“Oh, like you didn’t blow up at me?” Roman sneers. “Or would you say your temper is...infinitesimal?”

“You make one mistake!” Logan yells. “And this is what happens!”

Roman rolls his eyes.

“Why did you feel the need to point it out?” Logan throws up his hands. “What possessed you to announce, in front of the entire class, that I failed? I understand that you want to make a mockery of my mistake, but you could have had the decency to keep it to yourself!”

“Wh--” Roman splutters. “Mockery of your--I just made a joke! It was a joke, C-3P0!”

“Yeah.” Virgil looks at Logan and bites his lip. “I dunno, that kind of...sounds like a you problem?”

“It’s a me problem that he--”

“You made one mistake!” Roman stares at him. “You made one singular mistake, I teased you about it, and it’s not a big deal!”

Logan slams his hand on the desk. “It’s a big deal to me!”

“Why?”

“Because I can’t afford to make mistakes!”

Roman reels back like he's been slapped. “Well, if you get that pissy about one little screwup, why aren’t you upset that you fucking punched me?”

“I didn’t--” Logan presses his hand to his chest. “Roman, I--”

“Forget it.” Roman turns away. “Just forget it, I guess.”

Logan stares at him.

“I didn’t--” Roman swallows, staring at the floor. “I didn’t realize what I said. I say stuff without thinking sometimes, blurt stuff out--and I guess I was just--” He curls into himself a bit. “You’re smart, and you always know stuff, and I’m--I’m not. So I guess I--got excited that I could finally correct you. That you were...human.” He takes a deep breath. “And now my reputation is cemented as problem child, I might get kicked out of the play, and my parents are going to yell at me for eternity, so yay! Fabulous. Everything is bitterly jittery and not very glittery, and I, for one, would like to stop talking to you.”

Logan looks like he’s been slapped in the face. Roman huffs out a small, sharp laugh and starts playing with his pencil, looking like he’s holding back tears.

“Breathe,” Virgil murmurs. Roman glances at him quickly and takes a breath. Virgil gives him a little smile, and he thinks, for a second, he gets one in return.

“I’m sorry,” Logan says quietly. “For punching you.”

“Well, that just fixes everything, doesn’t it?” Roman glares at Logan with red-rimmed eyes. “I thought I told you to leave me alone.”

“Right.” Logan turns away. “Right.”

Roman sniffs once and is silent.

Logan slowly puts his binder away and lays his head on his desk, covering it with his hands. Virgil sees a flash of red on his knuckles. Somewhere on his chest is Virgil’s handprint, thick and purple.

They’re soulmates.

Virgil wonders if that’s why they can hurt each other so easily--they were made for each other’s hearts and know exactly how to break them.

He wonders if he’s fucked up by even trying to get those two to talk. Roman is crying. Roman is pressing a hand to his mouth and crying, and Logan has a hand fisted in his hair like he wants to tug it loose.

Virgil bites his lip, reaches out, and slowly pulls Logan’s hand away from his hair. Logan lets it drop limp to his side. Virgil scoots away and sits on his chair, drawing tornadoes on his desk, noticing idly that the teacher never came back. She just left them here, alone, and the air smells like exhaust and wet because it’s started raining. Virgil hadn’t noticed. It’s raining and the sky is iron-grey and he just really wants to go home.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers to the desk. “If I just made things worse, I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault,” Roman says, his voice brittle. Virgil glances at him. He’s wiping tears away and attempting to smile. “You were the only one working at it, so it’s no wonder it fell apart.”

Logan is silent. Virgil expected nothing else.

These are his soulmates, and they hate each other and hate him, and he feels like he’s going to cry.

Logan shifts on the desk. He’s still covering his head with one hand like he can disappear through sheer force of will. Virgil stares at the red on his knuckles. Soulmates. Soulmates and here they are, a bunch of juniors in detention, broken beyond fixing.

He doesn’t even know why he tried.

He should have known better.

“Why did you try and stop us?”

Virgil jerks his head around. Logan’s still curled up on his desk. His voice is whisper-quiet.

“What?” Virgil asks.

“Why did you try to stop us from fighting?” Logan's hand curls on the desk. “I’d just hurt Roman, I deserved whatever he decided to do, why did you try to stop us?”

Virgil gapes at Logan. Roman’s quiet too, and when Virgil looks at him, he nods. He wants to know the answer.

So does Virgil, if Virgil’s being honest.

He takes a deep, shuddering breath.

“You were freaking me out,” he says simply. “I wanted you to stop yelling, because I was afraid I’d get hurt.”

Roman looks away.

“And...and after that--” Virgil clutches the sleeve of his hoodie. “I dunno. You’re--you’re my soulmates, and--everyone says soulmates are supposed to get you. Be your friends, or whatever. I--” He curls tighter into himself, running a hand along the cold chair beneath him. “Let’s not make this any more emo than it has to be, but--friends. Those sounded...pretty cool to me, I guess.”

He chances a look up. Roman is watching him carefully. Logan is still a pile of hair and hands and shirt on the desk.

“I don’t...” Roman’s voice wavers, and he swallows. “I...I can understand that.”

Virgil stares at his hands.

“I’m sorry,” Logan says weakly.

“I know,” Virgil says. “So does Roman.”

“No, I’m really--” Logan pushes himself off the desk and turns to them. “I know, I know you don’t want to hear it, and I get that, but--Roman, I didn’t mean any of what I said. I promise. I was just--”

“A jerk?” Roman asks, but the jab falls flat, and Logan doesn’t even seem fazed.

“Yes,” he agrees. “I was.”

“You said it, not me,” Roman says.

“You also said it,” Virgil points out.

Roman gives him a glare.

“I was a jerk.” Logan cups one hand around his arm and begins to hug himself, looking at the blackboard instead of Virgil or Roman. Someone left a half-finished equation on there, and the chalk dust spells out all the faded problems before. Virgil catches snippets of dozens of different handwritings, none of them fully erased.

“You gonna continue?” Roman asks, his mouth lifting in a smile. “We don’t have all day.”

“I...” Logan chews on his lip. “I suppose I was...angry. I don’t like being wrong.”

“Nobody does,” Virgil says. “That’s normal.

“I just--” Logan takes a deep breath. “People always assume I’m just gifted. That I haven’t fought to have the grades I do. It’s completely illogical, since intelligence isn’t something you’re born with. I’ve tried my hardest to be where I am. And if I slip up, I’ll fail, and I’ll be right back at the bottom again!” He takes another deep breath, reaches down, and pulls out his binder. “I’m...I’m going to study now, if that’s alright. Feel free to talk.”

Roman and Virgil give each other a look. Then Virgil realizes he’s communicating wordlessly with a guy he hates.

Well, he doesn’t hate them. They hate each other.

Except right now, neither of them are glaring at each other.

It doesn’t erase much. The words are still there, etched in chalk and unable to be removed. But it’s a start.

And Virgil decides to push his luck just a little bit more.

“How do you feel,” he says slowly, “about us being soulmates?”

“How do you think?” Roman asks, his voice immediately souring. “I think we all made it pretty clear.”

“No, I mean--” Virgil waves a hand. “Yeah. We...we don’t like each other much. And we’ve clearly all got a lot of shit to work through. But--how do you feel about the idea? The, I dunno, possibility? That maybe one day...we wouldn’t have to hate each other anymore?”

“Sure,” Roman says. “That’ll happen. We’ll all just become best buds.”

“Roman,” Logan snaps. “You can say you don’t like me, you know.”

“That’s not--” Roman pauses. “I wasn’t--I was thinking you wouldn’t like me. Actually.”

“What?” Logan blurts out. “Why on earth not?”

“Um, ‘cause we fought? I called you names?” Roman waves a hand at himself. “That wasn’t exactly soulmate behavior.”

“I hit you!”

“Only once!” Roman folds his arms. “And you’re...you’re smart, and stuff. You deserve--yeah.”

Logan stares at Roman for a very long time. “What can I do?”

“What?” Roman asks.

“What can I do?” Logan repeats. “How can I...begin to make things up to you?”

“You don’t have to--” Roman laughs a bit, but it fades away. “You’re serious?”

“Yes.” Logan nods. “I wronged you, and I want to make it right.”

“Oh.” Roman gives Logan a bit of a smile. “Um, thanks?”

“No problem. Now, how can I assist you...to make up for mistakes one might have made prior?”

“That aren’t a big deal,” Virgil reminds him, “and that you’re going to be better than, okay?”

“Right,” Logan says, and he looks so relieved--it’s like he’s an entirely different person than the one in the hallway.

Then again, Virgil met his soulmates and immediately yelled at them. They probably all have hidden depths.

“Well,” Roman says slowly, a smirk spreading across his face, “if it’s anything, I wouldn’t mind infinite access to all of your notes--”

“No,” Logan says.

“Worth a shot.” Roman groans and collapses dramatically onto his desk. “Now I’ll fail my test. Thanks a lot, Specs, you’re a real pal.”

“I could--” Logan pauses, but Roman doesn’t interrupt. “I could...tutor you? If you wished?”

“What?” Roman snorts. “Better men than you have tried and failed."

“I’m serious.” Logan points to hs chest. “Always am. I wear a necktie.”

“You wear a necktie,” Roman agrees, “and it’s fucking incredible.”

“I’m trying to help and you’re making fun of me!”

“No, it’s--” Roman shifts. “I think--you pull off the necktie. So it’s fine.”

“Oh.” Logan blinks for a few times. “Regardless. I would like to offer my tutoring services.”

“And like I said, don’t bother.” Roman sinks a bit. “I’m no good at school stuff.”

“I highly doubt that,” Logan says. “Most likely, your education experience has been lacking. But you’ve shown creativity before--mainly in the inventive insults you’ve thrown at me--and I think in a one-on-one environment, you could flourish much more.” Logan pauses. “If--if you’d like, of course.”

Roman watches Logan for a few seconds. “You know what? I might just take you up on that. Er...thanks.”

“No problem.” Logan adjusts his glasses. “I know it can’t begin to make up for everything, but I think it would be...a good starting place?”

“Yeah.” Roman shrugs. “And that’s kind of all we need.”

“Thank you,” Logan says. “And, of course, Virgil.”

Virgil jumps. He’s been just sitting here, kind of smiling, glad they’re finally getting along but feeling kind of like a third wheel. He should have figured his soulmates would like each other better--

“Virgil!” Roman declares. “Our dashing prince who rescued us from the jaws of hate and malice! A thousand thanks to thee!”

“Um--” Virgil blinks. “You’re...welcome?”

“You did wonderfully,” Logan says, smiling a little smile at Virgil that makes Virgil ‘s face burn. “You went above and beyond what was expected.”

“How can our relationship fail with such a tireless helper at the wheel?” Roman asks.

“Relationship?” Virgil repeats. “Uh, dude, don’t get ahead of yourself.”

“Virgil’s right,” Logan says. “Again. A, we are not in any sort of relationship. And B, any such partnership would come to naught if we only relied on Virgil’s expert advice and did no work of our own.”

“Yeah, good point.” Virgil nods. “I am not doing this again, sorry. Get a real fucking therapist, please.”

Roman nods and has the grace to look sheepish. Logan smiles at Virgil again. Fuck, a smile that cute should be illegal, Virgil’s going to perish. He’s going to die right here in this classroom and never make it out of detention.

“So...work.” Roman shifts. “Tutoring?”

“Tutoring.” Logan pauses. “And...perhaps exchanging numbers?”

“Forward,” Virgil says. “Buy me dinner first.”

“I can if you’d wish--”

“It’s an expression,” Roman says almost fondly. “But of course, I will gladly share my phone number.”

“Great, we can make a group chat.” Virgil grabs his phone. “And I get to make it, too, so I can name it whatever I want.”

“Oh no,” Logan says.

“Oh, yes.” Virgil smirks. “You’re my soulmates, you know. You’re stuck with me.”

“Falsehood.” Logan shakes his head. “I’m glad you’re my soulmate. You too, Roman.”

“What?” Roman looks about to cry again. “Really? I--well, you two are...prickly. But...I like you. You challenge me on my bullshit--not that I’m often bullshit-y, of course. It’s...it’s nice. To have you guys.”

Virgil looks between them. “You’re both assholes and I’m still mad that you got me detention. But--if you’re willing to give this a shot...so am I.”

“Take a leap of faith,” Roman agrees.

“Take a risk,” Logan says.

“Push my luck.” Virgil smiles. “If you’d like.”

Roman smiles back. “I would like nothing more.”

“Phone numbers?” Logan offers. “Then...perhaps we could arrange an outside-of-school meeting? We can think of it as a second chance to get to know each other?”

“Nah.” Virgil shakes his head and holds up his palms. “We already did. Don’t think we can change our first meeting, L.”

“Fair,” Roman says, rubbing at the purple on his wrist.

“But maybe that’s okay?” Virgil ventures. “It’s not perfect, but--it did get us here, in the end. Hating each other slightly less.”

“Speak for yourself,” Roman says, but he’s grinning. And even Logan is relaxing in his chair.

The rain thrums outside the window, the air smells like chalk and wet trees, and Virgil is starting to wonder if taking risks might be worth it after all.

If they lead to this--two smiling faces, close to him, and a world of possibility before them.

The future has always scared Virgil. Today, though, he’s looking forward to it. A future with them. A future where they could be friends. They’re not close yet, they’re not all good just yet, but they’re willing to try. All of them.

And that’s a start.

“No fighting, though?” Virgil asks. “Promise me that, at least. I’m done playing mediator.”

“I promise,” Roman says.

Logan nods.

There’s half an hour left of detention. But they spend it together, and Virgil’s shocked at how quickly time flies when he’s got people to talk to.

Possible-friends. Future-friends. And maybe Virgil will mess it up, and maybe he won’t, and right now things are...good. Things are good. Things are looking up. Things won’t be perfect, and things can’t be erased, but they can try.

Virgil rubs his colorful palms and smiles.

Life is safer when he lives and lets live. Life was safer when his palms were black.

But life is more beautiful, more colorful, when he lets himself live it.

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#virgil sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders #sanders sides #analogince #prinxiety #logince #analogical #soulmate au #high school au #sanders sides fic #averywrites #is this me projecting my frustrations with the education system #and being classified as a gifted child #maaayyybeeee #you can't prove anything okay

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