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shadowbriar · 10 months

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Anthony Lockwood - If You’re Going to Break My Heart

Pairing : Anthony Lockwood x (she/her) TouchGifted!Reader Word Count : 5.8k. Warning : Blood. Minor character’s death. Panic attack. Possible OOC as I haven’t read the books. Angst, don’t sue me. Synopsis : The ambition they’ve nurtured for years finally start to create a space between them, straining their relationship that turns what once were friends into colleagues. Notes : Part II of I Love You So. I recommend listening to Inhaler - If You’re Gonna Break My Heart while reading. Thank you for giving the fic so much love and support, please don’t hate me as you reach the end of this fic. If you like this story and would like to support me, please visit my kofi page and perhaps get me a coffee?☕ Taglist: strikethrough means I couldn’t tag you. @nessa-stark @navznak28 @gwnwrites @archiveoftara @superpositvecloudshipper @cassiopeiia24 @wordsarelife @mellowarcadefun @ajordan2020 @a-candle-maker @obsessed-female @rambles-fanfic-trove @yokolesbianism

↞ I Love You So

“Anthony, I don’t like this.”

Lockwood drops his bag, carefully letting the sack fall off his shoulder. The heavy chain rattled as it came in contact with the ground. Her worried eyes tingles his heart, as if he couldn’t decide if he should be delighted to see how adorable she is right now or to take her worry seriously. She does have the tendency to be apprehensive at times.

She continues to express her worry but her words blur as if he was listening underwater. His brain was working itself hard to comprehend her sentences, to process whatever it is she was trying to tell him, and though he feels it in his heart that he knew what she wants and what she was saying, he still couldn’t compute the words she utters.

“We’ll be fine,” He finds himself says, mouth moving as if it has its own mind “We’ve been through this a hundred times, we’ll be alright. I promise to keep you safe.”

Her brows were still pinched, a small frown of disagreement displayed, but she remained quiet. Slowly yielding to his words and nodding in approval. She takes his hand, interlocking their fingers and guiding him inside the mansion.

Lockwood could see all the glowing traces on the floor as soon as they stepped in. He took out his rapier, ready to fight whatever is to come their direction. His breathing was getting shallow as fear started to crawl on his skin. Lockwood scrunches his nose, muttering to himself, everything will be alright.

But as he takes a step further, the sound of Lucy wailing in pain greets him. He turns to the source of sound, seeing Lucy kneeling and crying as she covers her ears with her hands.

Then another scream was heard. George was fighting ghosts just a few feet in front of him. Lockwood feels as though his feet were melting to the ground, unable to provide aid to any of his best friends, watching in horror as George fights for his life.

“Anthony,”

Now he turns to his right. She was sitting on the floor, leaning on the door frame with blood pooling around her. Her shirt was stained red. Her face is pale, gleaming from the sweat that is lacing her skin. Her right hand moves to his direction as if she was reaching for him. A futile attempt to eliminate their distance.

“No..” Lockwood mutters as panic sinks in “I’m coming. Stay with me, please, I’m coming!”

As he tries to reach her, a swarm of ghosts comes to his direction. He tries to fight them off, swinging his rapier in every direction as they just seem to be coming from everywhere. Lucy’s wail, George’s scream of help, and her trembling calls of his name become louder with each fought ghost. He wasn’t sure if he could save all of them, or any of them in that matter, but he would certainly die trying than to give in.

With the last breath of energy left in him, Lockwood drops to his knees and crawls to her. He reaches for her face, gently rubbing her cheeks to gain her attention but her eyes are vacant. Staring at him without a blink.

“No, no..” He chokes, crying and calling her name “Please, come back. I’m right here, please— I’m— Look at me, please. Hey, it’s me! It’s Anthony!”

Her still warm body was limp inside his embrace. He cries for her, screaming her name in hope that it would wake her somehow. His white shirt is now soaked red, marked by her blood.

Come back.

Please.

Lockwood jolts up from his bed, drenched in his own sweat as he tries to process his surroundings. His bedroom was dark, lit dimly by a candle by the wooden table. He lets out a relieved sigh, rubbing his eyes away from his own tears. This would be the third nightmare this week.

He peels off the blanket that was enveloping his body and puts his feet down from the bed. Lockwood stares on his bedside table. A new picture from earlier that day was framed and stood proudly. He was smiling, holding the most unattractive cake that George insists is a masterpiece while standing on his right, Lucy on his left. They were smiling brighter than the sun. They looked happy, whatever that word means these days, and truth be told he felt happy too then, but everyone could see the darker hue under his eyes and how dull his smile is compared to his best mates. This birthday was hollow.

It was his first birthday without her.

Lockwood stood from his bed and walked out of his room, finding himself gravitating to where she used to stay. He turns the door knob gently, as if afraid he would wake up anyone sleeping inside the vacant room, wincing as the door makes a creaking noise. He studies the room and pictures where her belongings used to be. He remembers the scattered jewelleries on the table, the pieces of chocolate wrappings by the bin, and the clothes hung behind the door.

He walks closer to the bed, resting his hand on the mattress and pretending to feel her lingering warmth. The scent of her sweet perfume that is now gone. Their pictures that used to decorate the walls were missing, leaving torn marks on the wall paint.

He let himself lay on the mattress. His eyes glued on the ceiling, thinking and imagining what she might be doing right now. Is she asleep? Is she caught in a book and lost track of time reading? Is she brewing a pot of hot tea to help ease her mind? Is she thinking of him the way he’s thinking of her?

The boy rests an arm over his eyes. He let out a long defeated sigh. There’s no one he could share his burden with now. No one would understand what he’s going through. Even if he tries to talk to someone, he knew that he could never be as transparent to a soul as he was with her. The weight that has been suffocating him gets worse each night and Lockwood wasn’t sure how long he could keep his feigned persona.

Please, come back.

—-

Lockwood knew that the job would have some complications. There was no way that the Prime Minister would only hire their agency for such a gallant event. The Ball was too important to be guarded just by three teenagers. No matter how proficient Lockwood would think his colleagues are, securing such a prestigious function would require more than a handful of elite agents.

“Kipps,” Lockwood greets as they enter the hall “Fancy seeing you here.”

Kipps smiled amusedly, turning to face the younger boy with such glee that it alarms him, “Dare I say that I’m glad to see you here, Lockwood.”

Lockwood shows a thin smile.

This job was a rather different mission than the ones they’ve done before. Instead of cleaning a mansion or securing a relic, the team was tasked to maintain the stability of the government’s event. With the ghost epidemic persisting and countries collapsing, the government is planning to hold an evening party to gather the powerful men and women from different countries to talk about their economic alliances. A couple of days ago, the government officials received intel that a certain group of radicals were planning to crash the Ball by releasing sources. Security has tightened since and there have been no troubles found so far yet one could never be too secure for such a paramount event.

“I heard you’ve been getting back on track, retrieving more sources and regaining attention at the agency.” Lockwood said, pretending to be interested in Kipps “Did you finally take that fencing lesson I told you about? How did it feel learning to properly hold a rapier with 6-7 years olds?”

Kipps smirked. The kind of smirk that says ‘I know something you don’t’ and it edges Lockwood to the bone. He hates not knowing about things that might cause him a disadvantage. Sure that their teams are now playing for the same flag, that they’re mates instead of rivals for the upcoming task, but he couldn't stop himself from thinking that this is a competition still.

Lockwood’s mind was abruptly distracted when he thought he heard a familiar voice. He turns to the source, eyes softened when he sees her, talking to some officials. Her hair was styled differently and the stark difference of appearance she has now wearing Fittes uniform was rather nauseating but no matter how peculiar she looks right now, Lockwood couldn’t help but to feel delighted to see her.

“Ah, there she is!” Kipps says, clapping his hand with a big smile as he calls for her “Lockwood, have you met my newest member?”

His grip on the rapier tightened. Kipps is evidently rubbing it on his face now, holding her by her shoulders just like he did when they met at the grocery store months ago. Lockwood forces the corner of his lips to tug into a smile, trying to collect himself and avert his focus to her.

“Anthony,” She greets with a smile “I knew you would be here.”

Lockwood nods, a little bit too stiff that it made her gaze softened as if she was apologising for something he couldn’t tell. His mind was split in two, torn between feeling overjoyed on seeing her and wanting to punch Kipps’ face. He forced a smile at her, trying his best to ignore Kipps’ presence, “How have you been?”

“Great. Where are Lucy and George?”

As if on cue, a piercing squeal was heard behind them. George and Lucy were now running toward her, pulling her into a rib crushing embrace. The trio looked like a group of children returning to their kindergarten class after a spring break.

Lockwood smiles at the sight. This was what normal is for him. To see her with George and Lucy, talking and laughing as if the world was nothing but a background noise. She looks radiant. Her beaming smile etched on her face, cheeks flushed from the giddiness. She looks beautiful.

“So to answer your question,” Kipps says, making Lockwood to glare at his direction “Yes, I did take fencing lessons, and no, it was not with 6-7 years olds. I rather like this fencing partner of mine, actually.”

—-

Trying to keep his focus is evidently impossible with her standing next to Kipps now. Lockwood knew that today’s briefing was important. That the officials are telling them the rundown of the party, vital exit points, and more confidential information about the intel, but what exactly can one do when the person he’s missed the most is standing by his sworn enemy? Besides, Lockwood’s certain that George is noting everything down, they could surely just go over this back home.

“Don’t do it.” Lucy says as she glances at Lockwood.

“Don’t do what?” He questions, not moving his gaze from them.

“Whatever it is you’re planning to do, Lockwood, I’m warning you, don’t.” She says with more firmness “We’re working on the same team now. Kipps isn’t your enemy.”

Lockwood snorts, “Like hell he’s not.”

Lucy rolls her eyes. Arguing with Lockwood while the cause of his fury is still in the room would be pointless. His lips were in a thin line, murderous eyes locked on Kipps who was still talking to her, discussing their plan for the job. For anyone else the two of them would look like nothing but a pair of elite agents who are only doing their job, but for someone blinded with jealousy, a certain way of Kipps’ gaze already set Lockwood’s skin ablaze.

Time feels like it passes by much slower in this hall. Lockwood swears that it’s been forever, that Kipps has been whispering and making her smile forever. He knew that the two are close, hardly half as close as they were, sure, but she’s always been good friends with him. Even back at the academy, Lockwood had always seen Kipps as a rival since day one.

And no, this goes further than just the fencing thing.

But in the end, she would always come for him first. Lockwood would be the first person she would tell her day to, the first she would share the pastries she bought from the new bakery around the corner, the first she would come to practise her rapier skills with. Now it looks like Kipps has dethroned him from such a position.

“You’re going to lose her completely if you let jealousy cloud your mind.” Lucy warns “They’re just doing their job.”

Lockwood turns to Lucy, looking offended, “Mind you, I am not jealous.”

“Like hell you’re not.” She says, repeating his own words.

“Shut up, Luce.” He retorts “Listen to the officials.”

“Lockwood, I’m serious.” Lucy says, this time pulling his arm with firm warning “Your jealousy is bleeding right out and if you’re not careful, you’ll only push her further and remove herself entirely from your life.”

He remains quiet, looking at Lucy with unsure eyes.

Lucy sighs, letting go of his arm, “Don’t overthink it. They’re just friends.”

His lips were itching to spit more arguments but Lockwood gave in and nodded instead. He tries to avert his mind by asking George to give him a recap, telling him pointers of the crucial information he missed from trying to murder Kipps with his stare.

The job was simple. Come to the Ball, make sure no ghosts were released from the supposed source attack, fight whatever party that might be in their opposition, then go home with a check big enough to feed them for the whole year. A big fish for a rather simple task, Lockwood notes.

Lockwood could already see the list of activities his friends would do once they finished the job. Perhaps a week off for everyone to go enjoy their well deserving reward is due. Lucy has been wanting to visit her friend Norrie and it’s been a while since George went to see his Grandmother in Sidcup. And him? What would he do to fill in a full seven days of no work?

It would’ve been much easier to make notes of all the brilliant activities to do if she was still in the team. He could go and visit her family, it’s been some time since he met her parents. Or maybe they could go somewhere new, jump on the train and visit cities, perhaps countries. Or even just staying at home and listening to her favourite records echoing through the walls of 35 Portland Row. All things would be pleasant so long as he gets to do it with her.

He wondered what she would do with her share. Maybe she would use it to get herself a new rapier. A fancy one where she could have her initials engraved on it. Or maybe she would use it to buy new paint and canvas, she does have a talent in such art. Or maybe she would go and visit all the museums and libraries in town. She loves going to such institutions. Lockwood remembers the first time they went to the National Gallery, how fascinated she was with all the pieces though he would argue that none of the works displayed is half as magnificent as she is.

But now that he thinks about it, Lockwood couldn’t help but to have her words echoed in his head. When was the last time she painted? When was the last time they went to the museum? When was the last time they went to a library just to lend some overrated novel?

I don’t know anything about you outside of work anymore.

Lockwood slowly looks up, painfully looking back at her and Kipps who are now scribbling some notes on the clipping board he was holding for her. That used to be their thing. Even with George in the team, he would often brainstorm ideas with her first, him holding the notebook and her holding two pens with different colours— black for him and blue for her. Seeing her do it with Kipps now torments him to say the least.

What I want you cannot give, Anthony.

—-

Lockwood’s shoulders stiffened as he watched her approaching. Her gentle smile was present but for the first time in his life, instead of feeling comforted, Lockwood feels intimidated. The sight of her and Kipps still burns in the back of his head and his realisation of how much he’s lost her is something that he’s still trying to process.

“Hi,” She greets “Where’s George and Lucy?”

“Having a stroll around. George wanted to get a better idea of the building and you know Lucy had to make sure he didn’t wander too far away.”

She nods, “Why didn’t you come with them?”

Because I wanted to talk to you, he thought, but instead Lockwood only shrugs, “Just needed some peace for myself.”

“Oh, I’ll leave you—.”

“No,” He says fast, taking her wrist before she could leave “Please, stay.”

She looks down to his grip, taking a shaky breath before slowly peeling his fingers off of her. Lockwood swears that the day just keeps on getting worse and worse for him. But she stayed by his side, not leaving. Standing still as she looks everywhere but him. God knows what she’s thinking now.

Lockwood blinks to try and process the unfamiliar situation. His heart was crushed, worse than the state he’s been in and he thought he was already broken. It’s as if he could finally feel the distance she’s been talking about. The invisible space between them that he didn’t realise was present until it’s too late to close it. The wall that’s separating them is too high to be climbed now.

“Happy birthday, by the way,” She breaks the silence, reaching into her back pocket and still not meeting his eyes “I got you this. It’s nothing much, just a postcard I got when I went out of town. I should’ve sent it but I didn’t have the time, sorry.”

He took it gratefully, a genuine smile blooming on his face, ”You went to Liverpool?”

“Yeah, with Quill. We had a mission there for a couple days.”

“I see.”

Lockwood’s lips are on a tight line now. Just how blessed he is today, indeed.

“I’m sorry I didn’t call for your birthday.” She says again “I wanted to, but I thought it would wiser for me not to.”

“Why not?”

“People don’t call their ex-employer and tell them happy birthday, Anthony.”

Ex-employer. Anthony thought he knew heartbreak until he heard the word come out of her lips. All these years of friendship, affection and tenderness shared with each other, reduced to such improper status. Whatever chance he thought he had to fix their relationship, Lockwood knew that it’s all gone into mere specks of dust now.

She finally looks up to him, realising the hurtful words she’s just uttered. It didn’t feel as horrible in her head but having to hear it herself she couldn’t help but wanting to slap herself. Since when has their relationship turned into who could hurt the other most?

“Anthony—,”

“No, I get it.” He cuts, nodding and feigning a smile “I’m glad you found an agency that could better appreciate your talents.”

Her expression softened, feeling guilt to weigh more on her shoulders.

“I know this would be wrong of me as your ex-employer to ask,” Lockwood says, his voice trembling as he tries to bottle his emotions “But can I please hug you?”

She winces at his use of words, how unsure he was with his question when they used to pull each other for warm embraces with bright smiles on their faces. She runs to him with open arms, pulling him close as if she needed the hug herself.

Lockwood could feel his body practically melting into her touch, the way his aching muscles finally relaxed as the familiar embrace was finally engulfing him once more, but his heart was heavier than before. If he thought he lost her the night she gave him her resignation letter, he was certainly proven wrong. This hug feels like the bitter slap of reality. That he was the only one crumbling, that he was the only one breaking, that he was the only one suffering from their separation.

And farewell tastes even bitter now.

—-

A couple of weeks have passed since the Ball meeting. A couple of weeks have passed since he last saw her. A couple of weeks have passed since Lockwood’s started to live his life as half a dead man. He’s been busy with other missions, trying to satisfy as many clients as possible and it’s looking pretty neat to say the least. Just don’t look too closely at him. You’d notice how he’s slowly slipping out of his mind if you do.

Just reckless enough, Lockwood chants in his head every time he’s working on the field. Holding onto the warnings George gives and all the ever so friendly scolds from Lucy. But even with as much reminder and support the two could give, it would never be enough to fill in the void in his heart.

Just reckless enough, Lockwood repeats to himself. Turning those three words into a prayer somehow as he’s slowly losing his grip. The only time he would brush the thought of her under the rug would be when his rapier is out, trying to fight for his life, trusting his instinct to swing the weapon against whatever trouble he’s come across, be it in the flesh or ectoplasm.

Just reckless enough, Lockwood muttered quietly as he tried to keep his focus. His shoulders were heavier by a thousand folds. The sight of that innocent man caught in the crossfire between him and some relic thugs tonight haunts him. How that poor man fell to the ground as Lockwood tries to flee from the scene, unintentionally using the man’s body as a shield from the bullets shot in his direction.

Now his feet were wobbly, trying their best to support him as he followed George and Lucy from behind, walking to 35 Portland Row with a heavy heart. No words were exchanged on the drive home and no matter how worried Lucy’s eyes stare into him, he knew that she’s seething inside.

“You two go first,” Lockwood says, making the two stop their pace and stare at him with confused eyes “I have somewhere to be.”

George could hear the exasperated sigh Lucy let out and with one unsure smile, he took the source from Lucy’s hands and entered their home. Better to secure the relic from the upcoming war between the two, he thought.

“Lockwood,” Lucy starts “Not tonight.”

HIs lips pursed. Cursing that if Lucy’s talents were listening and touch, why is it that it’s so easy for her to read him like an open book?

“You need to rest.” She says again “ You can visit her tomorrow morning.”

“I need to see her tonight.” Lockwood whispers, his tone begging “I think I’m losing my mind, Luce.”

Lucy remains quiet, her expression softened as she stares into his vulnerable state.

“I killed him.” He says, voice breaking and eyes brimming with tears “I don’t know why I couldn’t just stop and think straight lately. All I could think about is finishing as many jobs, retrieving as many sources as possible, all in an effort to bury her, to have a minute of peace without her ghost haunting my mind.”

Lockwood’s last words came out barely as a whisper. His whole body shudders, closing his eyes so he wouldn’t have to see that pitiful look on Lucy’s face. He didn’t hear her approaching but he could certainly feel her arms embracing him, trying to calm him down in the middle of the road. It was soothing, the kind of warmth that would keep you sane for the time being, but no matter how tight Lucy holds him tonight, she knew that her friendly gesture wouldn’t piece his sanity back together.

I need to see her.

—-

The tapping of raindrops to her window pane was soothing. A cup of freshly brewed tea, her favourite cardigan hanging loose on her shoulders, and a half read book in her hand. The night was peaceful for her. After a long week of complicated tasks, working with Kipps’ elite squad, such serenity is surely what she needs.

But her comfort was abruptly interrupted at the ringing of her doorbell. Whoever the guest was, they're surely impatient enough to not wait for another second to press on the bell whilst banging on her door at the same time.

She clicks her tongue, frowning at the disturbance. She places her book down, “Coming!”

Perhaps her guest has trouble hearing because even though the trip from her kitchen to the front door didn’t even reach a minute, the person was still banging on her door loudly. At this point she was sure the rain hardly dampened the loud noise they were making.

“Good Lord, I said I’m coming!” She says angrily as she opens the door.

She certainly didn’t expect her guest to be him. He was standing by the door, drenched so wet from the rain that you can see his shirt clung tight to his skin. His eyes were reflecting the emotional and physical fatigue he’s in. His shoulders defeated, chin hung low as if he’s a second away from passing out.

“Anthony—,”

The boy gave into her and pulled her for a tight embrace, melting into her like butter on a pan. He hugs her close, burying his face to the crook of her neck. Her body warmth was so comforting. After all these painful months, Lockwood finally feels like he’s home.

The boy hasn’t spoken a word but she knew that something had happened. Something so bad that it shook the façade he held so strongly to the ground. It was one of those moments when you just knew. Like a silent secret connection you share with someone special. Because otherwise, there would be no chance in hell that Anthony John Lockwood would go all the way to her flat in the middle of the night when it is raining cats and dogs.

“Please tell me you’re here.” He whispers.

“I’m here.”

And just like that all hell broke loose for Lockwood. His breathing is now shallow, chest tight as if he was being drowned in a lake. His embrace on her loosen. His feet weakened, making him fall to his knees. His demons have finally caught him.

“Anthony, breath.” She says gently, kneeling to level with him “Breath with me, okay? Follow my counts.”

“I killed a man.” He chokes “I didn’t mean to— He sacrificed himself— I should’ve gone to Barnes— I can’t breathe.”

She tries to peel herself from him, to try and assess his condition better, but the moment she tries to pull away, Lockwood only tightens his hold of her.

“Anthony, you need to let me go.” She whispers gently “Let me help you breathe, please, Love.”

Reluctantly, Lockwood loosens his embrace and lets her pull away. His hands are now busy pulling his tie and opening the first few buttons of his drenched shirt. His mind was frantic. Never has he ever had such an episode before.

She begins to count, helping him steady his breathing. Five seconds in, five seconds out. Then four seconds in, seven seconds hold, eight seconds out with a whoosh. Once his breathing starts to get better, she asks him light questions. Five things he could see, four things he could touch, three things he could hear, two things he could smell, and one thing he could taste.

“I can smell tea.” He says between his pants “Are you making tea?”

She let out a small chuckle, relieved, “I did make tea. Would you like some?”

Lockwood nods.

“Let’s fix you a cup then.”

—-

Lockwood could feel his brain waking up, his senses coming alive as he smelled her sweet scent and felt the pressure of her body on his arms. He smiles. Sure they've cuddled more than one could possibly count, but never have they felt as intimate as now. Their bodies were pressed to each other, her head tucked close to his chest, and her arms securely encircling his waist. It was as if he could feel her radiating the kind of love he's been desperate about.

“Good morning.” She greets, he could tell that she’s smiling sweetly without opening his eyes “I know you’re awake.”

“I most certainly am not.”

“Then how can we converse now if you’re still asleep?”

Lockwood pulls her closer, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Alright, you’re breaking my ribs now.” She says with a chuckle “I have to run to the bakery and get us some food. You didn’t eat anything last night, you must be starving.”

“I’m fine.”

She clicked her tongue in disapproval, “Come on, Anthony, wake up.”

“Can’t I sleep for a few more minutes?” He asks, finally opening his eyes to see that her face was mere inches from him.

Lockwood gulps. She was staring at him tenderly. As if she missed him as much as he missed her. The corner of her lips were curved upward, making her look ever so beautiful. Even in the morning, perhaps especially in the morning, she looks the most stunning with her tangled hair and lazy sleepy eyes. A sight he would never get enough of.

“I’m gonna do something,” He whispers to her “If you don’t like it you can deck me later but please do it gently.”

Her brows knitted, smiling at his half spoken words.

With a loud beating of his heart, Lockwood leans closer to her, sealing their lips for a few seconds in a chaste kiss. It was an innocent one. The kind you give to your lover when you want them to know just how much you appreciate them and that is all he wanted to do. To tell her that he appreciates her, with a gesture that he hopes would explain better than words could ever do. All he wants to do now is just to let her know that.

Lockwood opens his eyes nervously, scared to see her negative reaction but to his luck, he could only see her smiling back at him. Like she accepted his message and is returning the feelings for him.

“Alright, you deserve a few more minutes of sleep for that.”

He chuckles, pulling her back for another tight embrace.

“Anthony, I really need to get us some food.” She protests “You need to let me go.”

“Stop wiggling.”

“Then let me go.”

Lockwood groans but let go of her anyway. His brows furrowed in disapproval, lips pursed in an annoyed frown, and despite his growing disappointment that she won’t be joining his quick extra nap, he knew that she has a tight schedule for the day and keeping her late for her breakfast wouldn’t be the wisest thing to do.

She lets out a satisfied sigh, sitting on the edge of the bed before looking back at his sleepy self, “Promise me you’ll still be here when I’m back.”

Lockwood nods and hums in agreement. His hand searches for hers, still with his eyes closed, and plants a kiss on the back of her hand. He caresses it with his thumb before letting go gently, “I won’t go anywhere.”

If only Lockwood would open his eyes for a minute, he would’ve seen the bright smile on her face. How her cheeks were flushed and the lovestruck eyes she has for him. But he was busy trying to recompose himself. What he did just now has certainly burned all their bridges to the ground. He has never been this bold, never that fearless and taking the leap of faith for their relationship, and yet he did. He needs to process this before he could see her again.

How the universe seemed to have aligned their stars together now.

Lockwood heard the soft click of the front door closing when she left. He finds it hard to fall back to sleep now from all the adrenaline rush. His lips were still curved in a satisfied smile. He feels giddy. Like his body was supercharged and he could conquer the world now. Funny how she could turn his world upside down just with a snap of her fingers.

He now finds himself getting up from the bed and looking around her flat. He could see the pictures that were glued to the walls of her room in 35 Portland Row now decorating the sitting room. Even when she doesn’t live with him anymore, it soothes him to know that she brought a piece of their home wherever she goes.

He heard the front door knob twisting, turning to see it with a happy smile, “That was fast.”

But the happy face was soon slapped off of his face as he stared at the man standing. Kipps were mirroring his confused look, staring at each other with the silent question: what are you doing here?

And then it dawned in him. Lockwood looks down to the shirt he’s wearing, the one she let him borrow to get out of his soaked clothings. The plain white shirt that fits him right but is certainly oversized for her. Why would she have a men’s shirt?

“Kipps,” Lockwood greets with a lump growing on his throat “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

“The same could be said for you.” Kipps said, his tone unsure but his usual smirk was decorating his face “Is she here?”

“She went to the bakery.”

Kipps nods, giving him an ‘ah’.

Lockwood bites the inside of his cheek so hard that he could feel the foul taste of blood from it. He should’ve known better. Why didn’t he think about it before? Why didn’t he see it? How could he forget that she was no longer his? Hell, she was never his to begin with.

“I, uh, I just remembered I have some things to sort out.” Lockwood says as he shuffles to gather his belongings.

“You’re going?” Kipps asks “Aren’t you going to wait for her first?”

“No,” He says, shaking his head “It’s something about work. Rather urgent, actually. She’ll understand.”

Kipps frowns, knowing that she would certainly not understand but nods anyway, “Right.”

With a forced smile, Lockwood pats on Kipps’ shoulder and finds himself out of her flat. He could feel his heart getting heavier with each step further from her. Like his heart was left there, on her bed, the moment he promised to wait for her to return. But what exactly could he do? He knew his place, even when he'd forgotten about it last night. He forgot and he was made to remember. She was no longer his.

She was Kipps’.

#anthony lockwood #anthony lockwood fanfic #anthony lockwood fanfiction #anthony lockwood scenarios #anthony lockwood imagine #anthony lockwood imagines #anthony lockwood fluff #anthony lockwood angst #anthony lockwood x you #anthony lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood x y/n #anthony lockwood x oc #anthony lockwood scenario

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undervaluedagent · 22 days

Text

Autistic Queen Deltarune headcanons:

[Plain text: autistic Queen Deltarune headcanons. End plain text.]

Actually has both autism and ADHD.

Queen's hands are very sensitive to touch, and the gloves rarely come off. For them to come off, there's both good stimuli she wants to touch and she has to trust the people around her.

Only has copies of the same pair of pants.

She's that autistic person who, in order to hide from noise, will put in earphones and play her noisy and awful music at full volume.

Queen's mansion having more muted colors than the rest of the cyber world is an intentional choice. Though she's not usually bothered by bright colors, it's good to have refuge for when she is.

Queen has zero smell or taste sensitivities, has no idea what people think tastes good, and should never be allowed in the kitchen. Ever.

Can't read tone of voice or facial expressions (unless maybe she knows the other person really well), and relies entirely on context clues and her own personal bias to interpret how they feel.

Queen putting emphasis on how she's a computer in front of the lightners is actually a form of masking, as it diverts attention from "why is she so weird" to "oh she's a computer/robot that's why". This doesn't work as well when interacting with other Cyber darkners, so in front of them, she makes it seem like she's weird because she's "imitating lightners".

Queen has very little ability to tell if someone's a fake friend to her.

Queen interprets feelings through a lense of "calculating" what's "logical" to feel, including her own. This doesn't work often, and she had to realize this in canon ("You Cannot Calculate Other People's Feelings").

Queen forces fake inflection into her tone of voice in order to sound more natural. She drops this when she's alone, or sometimes when she's distressed.

When distressed, Queen can sometimes experience speech loss. She could benefit from an AAC device in these instances, but she's currently unwilling to use one.

Queen doesn't mind loudness by itself (such as one person who speaks loudly), but she does mind when it stacks. Queen can get overwhelmed and stressed out in big crowds for this reason, and she prefers to interact with only a few people at a time.

She experiences shutdowns way more often than meltdowns.

Queen doesn't actually have many friends, and she's aware of this. She's lonely, but she doesn't know how to fix it or why people don't spend much time with her.

Some mobile games are a form of stimming for Queen.

Most of Queen's stims are pretty noticable. For example, some of her happy stims include hand flapping, bouncing or kicking her legs, or jumping a bit. (How she does that last one in heels idk).

Sometimes Queen drinks to help take the edge off of sensory input. She's not aware this is why she does it in those instances, though.

Queen jumps between hyperfixations a lot, and absolutely will infodump about it.

Queen is not currently diagnosed.

That's all for now lol

#undervalued files #queen deltarune #deltarune queen #safe utdr #autistic queen

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namestealerwuzhere · 7 months

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So what's the deal with Tessa?

(I don't use Tumblr much, so sorry if the fomratting is janky.)

There's been a lot of talk after Episode 6 that Tessa isn't human but a creation and an extension of Cyn. I think something weird is going on with Tessa and it's probably something Cyn could do, I feel it's unlikely. First let's break down the main indications something is off I've heard:

Tessa's personality is very different from what we saw in the episode before. (Although that could easily just be trauma and growing up.)

Tessa is oddly capable after getting her arm mauled.

The blood from the aformentioned incident causes one of the sentinels to start behaving strangely.

And, probably most importantly, none of the computers or robots seem to recognize Tessa as human.

All of these pretty heavily indicate something strange is happening, but none of it really indicates Tessa's alliance beyond the fact that Cyn would probably somehow or another have to enable it. Infact, there's several points that pretty heavily suggest an alliance against Cyn.

First off, Tessa is trying to convince N to kill Uzi before Cyn takes over. On the surface this seems like something to help Absolute Solver take over since Uzi had fought it multiple times by now, but the threat of Cyn controlling Uzi was very real in the episode. If Cyn was really controlling Tessa wouldn't it make more sense to just tell N it's no big deal, or that Cyn is nice?

The bigger indication Tessa isn't just an extension of Cyn, though, I feel is that Tessa seems just as confused as anybody else. Note how when the computers don't let her operate them she doesn't really seem to offer an explanation and acted like it would work going in. She just kinda goes "huh" and they keep going.

So, all in all this seems to indicate Tessa isn't a (normal) human but has no idea. Which has very strange implications I'm not really sure what to make of. J might be aware of what's going on, given she acted odd a few times and seemed wary of Tessa going on her own which also implies…something.

I've done some thinking of how a messed up clone Tessa could show up and I feel like it might be that somehow J or even Cyn itself made a duplicate after the real Tessa died under unknown circumstances. J seems to have weird flesh manipulation abilities given the faux-organic remains we see after Uzi kills her, and Cyn seems to genuinely care about the other young people in the mansion.

#cyn murder drones #cyn #murder drones tessa #murder drones #tessa

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phantomcellar · 1 year

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Murder Drones theory Time

Spoilers for Episode 4 ahead

I'm posting this again because it didn't appear in the Murder drones tag last time so I'm trying again.

Ok so the new Episode got me thinking and I'm starting to think that the solver is somehow sentient in a way, and may even be behind the core collapse.

1) The Basics:

"The singularity awakens". I think this refers to a Technological Singularity, i.e., when Technological growth becomes uncontrollable and irreversible.

I think this definitely refers to how the absolute solver, which was likely developed/researched on Copper 9, either became sentient itself, or perhaps a Drone with the solver gained sentience and broke from their programming because of the Solver and then took control of it. I do lean more towards the latter and I'll explain why and how this connects to CYN, as well as the 4th Drone in the Mansion in Part 2) of this Post.

It is also worth mentioning that the only drones who seem to have a sense of Danger/Self Preservation are the ones connected to the Solver somehow. Like how Lizzy would've let Eldritch J in (she seems scared at first when she says, "that girl…." and then just goes "is gorgeous right?", like a switch just flipped inside of her), or how that one drone just went along with the crappy Illusion and so on. This is because it’s part of their programming, so that they can do dangerous work and be controlled more easily. And the solver nullifies that.

Furthermore, I think its very likely (or pretty much confirmed) that Nori, Yeva and the at LEAST 46 other Drones from the "Cabin Fever" lab thing were used in Experiments with the Solver, but then Broke Free after the Core collapse, which the Solver is responsible for (either through CYN or itself).

2) Nori, CYN and the Solver:

Ok so when N touches the ZOMBIE DRONES Tech Training Video VHS (which I think is a guide for the employees of the lab on how to deal with the solver drones down there), we got to see a couple of things:

First of all:

The 4th Drone from the Mansion, who what from I can make out has a Human (or at least organic) Hand in their Mouth, with the Solver Symbol. I was pointed out to me by someone on Discord that the Drone on the right is probably V and that the Flashback is from Ns POV.

Second:

A small human hand. May be the one the 4th Drone is eating

And Finally:

What seems like a Black Hole with a null inside the hole (which in computer programming is like a "nothing" or "not here" type of value)

This may be one of three things

A literal Black hole and the actual "singularity" that Nori was rambling about.

The end goal of the solver, aka create a Black hole to wipe out organic life (unlikely imo)

A symbolic representation of either how the solver wants to wipe out organic life or, the solver itself, being the "singularity" that kills all humans.

As mentioned earlier, I think a drone (who imo is called CYN) gained sentience and more importantly independence, perhaps through the solver, and then took over said solver. CYN then caused the Planets core to become unstable and caused all organic life on Copper 9 to die, except for the Drones. This however, killed seemingly killed them, but in reality, this caused them to fully take over the solver, becoming the Solver basically.

All was well until the humans realised what had happened on Copper 9. Whether or not they knew if the solver was directly responsible for the catastrophe is not exactly clear, but they knew that the solver drones can’t just be left to their own devices (maybe because they showed signs of rebellion even before, which could also be the reason for the creation of the VHS) so the humans decide to create and send the Disassembly Drones.

And thus, the humans take N, V, J, the 4th drone and perhaps more and insert the solver into them. Now why do this? Because Solver infected drones are immune against the telekinesis powers of other solver drones, thus they can’t just be one-shot, and the healing powers also help.

CYN however notices this and decides to get a new body, aka. the 4th drone (whether the body had a drone mind inside before is not clear to me). CYN then goes ballistic in their new body, maybe even being responsible for the organic things the solver can do, although I think that was there from the start.

This is the reason why V is so scared when Uzi turns the arrow into that weird meat thing and when Solver Uzi goes around killing, she has seen this before and suspects CYN has found a new body in Uzi (I don’t think she quite knows who CYN was before the 4th drone tho), "New Body, same horrors, huh, CYN".

The humans are scared after this and block all functionalities of the solver in the DDs, except healing and the immunity against telekinesis. After which they still send the drones to copper 9 anyways, thinking CYN was just a rogue drone who went mad because of the solver.

It is said that the Doors were Nori's idea, who somehow knew that the Murder Drones were coming, I think this because CYN was warning her (and other drones as well, like the dead one we see in the episode) about the disassemblers.

3) Conclusion

So yeah, that’s the theory. I have my suspicions about what’s going to happen next, but I'll share those once I have more info and can create a theory.

There also may be some things that could perhaps be changed:

If CYN really let Nori and the others know about the DDs, why did they also show them the "singularity"? It could be that the "visions" were simply a side effect of the solver, or an indirect connection to CYN.

CYN could still just be the 4th mansion drone who went mad because of the solver. And the Absolute Solver is itself what caused everything to happen (either way the "More like you're our cute little puppets" line makes sense)

It could also be argued that CYN didn't take over the solver, but got absorbed into it and the solver is a hivemind or something similar.

How and Why does N get a flashback from the VHS? As for the how I think there are just multiple copies of it, I mean it is a training video after all, probably for the employees not the DDs tho. So, it’s likely he saw one back on earth, perhaps while they were made into Disassemblers. As for the Why I’m Not 100% sure.

Ok that’s all thank you for reading. If you have questions, feedback or found a mistake (I speedran this after going through the episode like 6-7ish times lol) then please tell me.

#murder drones #murder drones theory #uzi doorman #nori doorman #cyn #murder drones cyn #absolute solver #murder drones spoiler #murder drones spoilers #murder drones episode 4

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percywinchester27 · 2 years

Text

The new Mrs. Winchester (8)

Word count: 4.1K

Pairing: Sam X Reader AU

Chapter warnings: Mentioned character death, mentioned kidnapping, fluff

Series Summary: After spending over two years in captivity, and enduring assault, torture, and degradation of every kind, Y/N is finally sold off to the highest bidder. But when the deal is masked as a hushed marriage to a wealthy and powerful man, Y/N knows it means a few more nights of brutal torment ending in certain death. After all, why else would a man like him, want someone like her, except to fulfill desires so depraved that they would require owning a person. However, the Winchester mansion has mysteries of its own, woven in lies, betrayal, and death. Smack in the middle of it, she finds both hope and a home, in the person she least expected to find it with. But when it comes down to it, will she be able to save the thing that matters the most?

A/N: There’s a surprise for you guys in this chapter ;)

Beta: My darling, @deanssweetheart23 love ya!

The new Mrs. Winchester masterlist

“You’re shitting me,” you whispered. “He’s shitting me, isn’t he?”

Jack beamed. “He isn’t.”

“I can’t touch this thing.” You stepped backwards. “It’ll break and I’ll go to technology hell for it.”

“It’s just a laptop!”

“Yeah, the sort that people use in 200 million dollar budget movies. Look, the paint is all shiny and silver.” The thing looked like even your glance could break it. “I asked for a drawing table and tools. A decrepit computer would have done the job just the same.”

It had been two days since the day spent touring the house with Sam and in those two days, you had only seen him once at breakfast. His work kept him busier than the tiredness his face showed. Today Jack had greeted you in the morning with a brand new laptop and the news that the study next to the library was being fitted with a drawing table. You were free to furnish it as you saw fit.

The laptop scared you. “I don’t want it.”

“How’re you going to work, then?” Jack sounded amused.

“I’ll manage.”

“Just take the laptop, Y/N,” he said, smiling, then immediately made a funny noise. “I’m sorry. I mean, Mrs. Winchester.”

“No, please. Please call me Y/N.” It felt like being resuscitated each time your name was uttered.

Jack looked torn.

You reached out to touch his hand. “We’re friends, aren’t we? And friends call each other by name.”

When he still didn’t look convinced, you nudged his palm. “You call Sam by his name.”

“Oh, alright,” he gave in. “Just take the damn laptop, Y/N.”

Grinning, you opened the laptop gingerly and pressed the power button. The machine came to life almost in no time, without buffering. Wondrous.

“All your software is in there,” he said, sighing lovingly at the machine. “What was it? Auto something–”

“AutoCAD and SketchUp.”

“Yeah, pretty names for things in a pretty laptop.”

“Hey, if you want alone time with it…”

Jack threw you a withering look and you laughed. “Come show me the study you were talking about.”

*****

In the end, after much consideration on your part, you decided to start with the study itself. That morning, Sam stayed only long enough to introduce you to the contractor and his crew- all burly men with bulging arms and grim faces.

“Mrs. Winchester will look after the restoration,” he’d said, “Her word is final.”

You wished Sam had been around for the rest of the day when you had the men move your table to the seating room of your suite. It took some time to explain the process to them. From having renovated the room so many times over the years, one layer of paint had been coated over another and then another.

You instructed the crew to scrape off all the layers carefully till the original plaster was visible. The men went to work and you enlisted Abby’s help to look for the archival drawings stashed in the library.

“Sam said that the drawings should be somewhere here.” you pointed out to the rack at the very back. “He said all of them had been preserved for future reference.”

“You’ve been spending a bunch of time with him lately,” Abby mentioned casually.

“He’s been helpful while he is around,” you replied warily, recognising the hard edge in her voice.

“He’s around too much then,” she muttered ducking under a shelf ledge.

Not enough, not to you anyway.

“Found it!” You called, drawing out the dust-laden sheets from under the shelf. “No respect for archival drawings,” you tutted, blowing off the dust.

Abby agreed with you about the state of the sheets and forgot about her reservations for the time being. You explained to her the process of reading archival architectural drawings in order to decipher what the original details of construction must be. Most of your guesswork proved accurate. The sandstone used had been brought in from a local stone quarry and dressed on the premise itself.

“Local material is the best kind of material because it’s used to the climate of the area, will withstand weathering and is best suited for any kind of construction. Plus, you don’t have to cure the mortar for too long. Sandstone sets easily and the pointing–”

“Miss, you’re losing me.”

You smacked your head. “Oh, I’m blabbering..”

“No!” Abby reached out to hold your head, and you jerked in surprise. “Don’t stop talking about your work. I like listening to you, even if I don’t understand much.”

The catch in your throat made it hard to speak but you managed, “No. You will stop me when you don’t understand so I can make you understand. We’re in this together now.”

You spent the rest of the day testing out paint samples on the scraped-out walls. The contractor suggested a multitude of bright colours, but you picked out an understated cream to go with the natural ocher, having decided to keep the original sandstone exposed. When all was said and done for the day, you made a detour to the kitchen to check on Martha. She appeared delighted to see you, gushing about your ideas for the house. She had a couple of ideas up her sleeves, too, you realised, when she handed you a notepad and a pen.

“You need to draw up the plan for this week’s meals,” she announced.

“What, me?”

“Of course,” said Martha good-naturedly. “I’ve been using my discretion with what to cook these past years. Now that the house has a mistress, you get to choose.”

Staring at the writing pad, you murmured, “I don’t know what to do… I can barely cook.”

Martha laughed sweetly. “My dear, you don’t have to cook. I’ll do that. You just have to decide what gets cooked.”

The dishes that had been served at all prior dinners, even the big affairs, had been exquisite– French, Italian and God knew what all countries you didn’t even know the names of. Martha had a battalion of chefs working under her on days of big events. What did you know about cuisine and fine-dine food?

Instead of telling her that, you said, “I don’t know what everyone likes.” You didn’t know what Sam liked.

With a twinkle in her eye, Martha said, “It doesn’t take much to please master Sam. He’s very basic. Just Salads and eggs and meat. That’ll do.”

You snorted into your coffee. Martha had, for all practical purposes, just called Sam a basic bitch.

“Not just him,” you said. “I don’t know what the others like- Abby, Jack, the other girls, staff and… you, Martha. I understand that the meals are cooked for everyone? I don’t know about their choices, likes and dislikes.”

Her face softened. “Oh, sweetheart. Don’t worry about us. We’ll eat what gets cooked.”

“No. If I get to decide what gets cooked, then everyone gets a say in it. We’re running a democracy from now on. We’ll have everyone put the names of their favourite dishes on this paper and cook them in rotation, yeah?”

“Mrs. Winchester–”

“I hope Sam won’t mind me deciding?”

Martha shook her head. “It was his idea. Yesterday morning, I asked him what he wanted for the formal dinner next week and he says, ‘ask Y/N. She’ll decide for the kitchen from now on.’” She sighed fondly.

You left the kitchen then, wandering back upstairs. The sun had commenced a downward arc and when you crossed it, you found Sam’s door locked from the outside, which only meant one thing; he won’t be home tonight.

Disheartened, confused and strangely excited about the day’s events, you rushed into your room and pulled out the lamp from under your bed. Last week, you had specifically requested Abby to put it there citing the possibility of a power outage. Grabbing a matchbox, you walked outside to the corridor and placed the lamp onto the ledge of an arched opening. Against the backdrop of the lavender evening sky, the flame inside the lamp looked like another trapped sun.

The flame was bright but you didn’t know if it was bright enough. Still, bracing yourself for disappointment, you carefully traced back the path to your pier behind the outhouse.

You spotted him as soon as the pier became visible. He sat with his legs swinging over the water’s edge, skipping stones over the surface. You counted four skips on the last one.

“I almost thought you wouldn’t come,” you said to his back.

“And here we are,” he said, turning around to give you that smirk of his. The one full of warmth and a hint of mischief. “Wouldn’t ditch you like that, Chewie.”

“Of course not,” you smiled, taking a seat next to him and raising your fist. “Millennium Falcon Crew for life.”

He bumped your fist back. “So, how’re you holding up in the ivory tower?”

“Ivory tower?” You snickered.

“I’m not a big fan of that house,” he muttered darkly. “Nothing good ever happened there.”

“Well, I’m trying to make good things happen now.”

He looked at you sharply, “Say what?”

Wriggling your hands in your lap, you peeked at him. “Sam’s asked me to overlook the restoration of the house since I studied architecture and all that. I started with the study on the second floor.”

“One next to the library?”

“Yep, that one.”

An odd look came over his face. “That used to be m– Mary Winchester’s study.”

Fascinated, you stared at him. “Really?”

“Yep. Or that’s what I’ve been told.”

“You know? I never knew my mother. She ditched my dad not two weeks after I was born, and I really don’t care enough about her to go look, and yeah dad died in combat, but at least I wasn’t there to see it. I didn't have to see him like that… but those boys. The older one especially. He had to see both his parents dead. Must've been awful." You hadn't given much thought to Dean except that he probably wasn't dead, but you did feel for the man. He had lost both his parents and his girlfriend to horrifying deaths. And then he'd lost his brother to something else. Wherever he was, he must be bitter and angry, at least. Anyone would be. Then it occurred to you. "Did you know them? John and Mary Winchester?"

"I knew them," said Han. "The only thing I can tell you is that neither of them deserved to die like that. And their kids? They didn't deserve to live like that— at the mercy of a trust, forced to fight back to back against a world that knew nothing but to be cruel to little children."

The tone of his words held a certain finality and you decided not to pursue that topic further. But the tone also reminded you of someone else and you sighed wistfully.

Han raised an eyebrow.

"You remind me of my best friend, Carmen. She, too, is very ‘no bullshit.’”

His eyes turned speculative. “Best friend? From college?”

You nodded. “Very protective. I think about her all the time, and how she must have reacted to my absence… disappearance. I'm certain she would have tried to find out.”

“What really happened to you?”

Giving him a wry smile, you said, “You can’t really expect me to tell you that, can you?”

“I wish you would. Have you ever told anyone at all?”

No. The answer was a clear, straight-up no.

“You’ve got to open up to someone, some time.” You didn’t need to see his face to know what it must look like because compassion rang true in each syllable. “You can’t live like this.”

“I am.”

His hands balled into fists over the denim of his jeans.

“Let me ask you this,” you said. “Have you ever loved someone so much that you would do anything to protect them? Anything… even if it meant destroying your life with your own two hands?”

His eyes flashed.

“Then you know why I can’t tell you.”

Han, very slowly, offered his hand palm up and like reaching out to a raft in a deluge you gripped it tight.

“They told me I get to pick what’s cooked in the house from now on,” you whispered. “Anything I say goes. How do I tell them that a month ago I barely had food to eat? I can’t name half the vegetables in the pantry, I don’t know the kind of money that goes into stalking a pantry. I’ve been scared enough times in my life, but when Martha looks at me with those expecting eyes, that scares me, too. No one’s hurting me now. So why is THIS scaring me?”

He only tightened his grip on your hand, fingers weaving through yours. The silence stretched on, not pregnant, but in perfect understanding, until he said, “What did you decide about the food?”

You almost laughed. “I turned it around on them. I told Martha to make a list of what everyone likes and cook it in rotation. After all, everyone deserves a feast.”

He chuckled. “Very smart” The weight of his hand just felt the right amount of comfortable. “What did you put on the list? What do you like?”

“I don’t know,” you muttered. “Store-bought Ramen maybe. Everything Martha makes is delicious… but I don’t know what I would pick for myself.”

“One day you’ll know,” said Han. “And when you do, you can invite me into your husband’s fancy dining room that you restored and serve it to me. High tea?”

Snickering, you let go of his hand, only to shove his shoulder with it. “Oh, shut up! I can’t imagine you and the concept of high tea in the same room.” With his leather jacket, worn-out jeans, and that devil-may-care smile, Han would seem more at home on the open road than in a constricted dining room.

“Hey,” he rocked back in mock offence. “You think I can’t do table manners?”

“I think you wouldn’t willingly want to.”

He shrugged, allowing it and you were tempted to thank him again, but held your tongue.

“Hey, Han?”

“Hmm?”

“Would you really come up to the house if I invited you?”

His apple-green eyes went opaque just for a second before they cleared up. “Hell, yeah. I will come when you need me.”

After dinner, you rolled over on the silk sheets of the bed, unable to fall asleep. A vicious part of your brain informed you that maybe the sheets were too soft, or maybe you weren’t “worn out” enough. The clanging of metals against the grills, an alarm of its own to mark the number of hours you could sleep, was missing here. The markers of your allowance to rest.

But a deeper part knew the reason you couldn’t sleep. It was the absence of those small noises that emanated from the other side of the room– the softened thuds of footsteps against the carpeted floor, the grunts when you assumed he was exerting himself, the swears when he banged his toe against something and the rarest chuckles when he found something amusing in a book. Most of all you missed his good night taps. You smiled to yourself recalling the first time he had wished you so. Sam had responded to the ‘princess.’

Sighing, you sat up in your bed, peering at the dark room. If everything in the room had been picked by Sam, it must reflect his taste. After all, he hadn’t known anything about your taste to use that. The sick voice interrupted again. He had decorated this room for ‘a’ girl. Not you. It could very well have been the girl in the next cell. You just happened to be a fluke.

Shutting the voice down more viciously this time, you searched for anything that would distract you from the rising uneasiness. The laptop bag by the nightstand caught your attention. Stretching your hand, you caught hold of the handle and pulled it to you.

If you couldn’t sleep, it would be best to dust off the old cobwebs and get to work on the software. Recreating the house plans would be a task and Sam had said you could enlist the help of his employees.

You removed the laptop and then put your hand inside the bag reaching for the charger when your fingers touched something small and smooth. Clutching it in your palm, you brought it out, only to find a small burner phone. The kind that is hard to trace.

Surprised, you flipped it open, not having touched a phone in so long. The phone meant freedom. You could literally dial any number now. Call the police and tell them everything. Sam knew that very well. It could be accomplished with any phone of course, but a burner would let you do it without a trace.

With trepidation, you swiped up to reveal the menu. The phone was obviously brand new with a single contact saved in it under… ‘princess.’

A slow warmth spread through your body, like the best kind of whiskey taking an effect, making you melt right where you sat. His smile, his eyes, the small touches of his fingers, each sent out sparks up your spine. But this feeling was real, lasting, and so much more altering. When it subsided, it still left an after-effect, an afterglow. Later still, an ounce of that warmth refused to go away, simmering just under the surface of your skin. With a longing more than just missing, you wished for Sam to be sleeping on the other side of the wall. Just imagining him there, in his sweats was a happy sensation, and you didn’t feel alone anymore.

******

The cluttered desk reminded Sam of the oak table in the library, back in the big house. That’s what he had always called it- ‘the big house.’ People called it his home, but it hadn’t ever felt like one. Just a huge house, where he could still get lost; not in the walls but in the borrowed memories. Sam’s home was a small, three-bedroom house by the brook, where the gurgling of water was an omnipresent sound, steadying his breath at night, lulling him to sleep. He remembered sleeping in the bed of his room in the big house for the first time and the absolute quiet had disturbed him. Sam had wanted to run to his home and hide in the bed of his real room. But he wasn’t eight anymore, and his home lay dark and empty. So he had turned on the lamp, and read himself to what little sleep he could manage.

The big house is starting to feel like a home now.

Sam didn’t try to extinguish the voice in his head. He chased it, tried to unspool that string of thought, but deep down, he already knew the answer. The absolute quiet of his room had ceased to be. Now there were small noises in the night- rustles and sneezes and the very rare snores. Then there were the taps and pats. At first, Sam couldn’t believe his ears. It couldn’t be possible, right? But after a minute, there was no mistaking the rhythm of the taps. They were words… words strung together to hold meaning.

And the second Sam deciphered the true meaning… Well, he hadn’t hated himself more in this life.

The taps were precise: I-T-S G-O-I-N-G T-O B-E O-K-A-Y. Y-O-U-L-L B-E F-I-N-E

Sam understood very well that those words weren’t a message for him, or for anyone. They were words of reassurance, a mantra repeating over and over and over. And yet before that realisation set in, for a split second, Sam had felt reassured. He’d been torn that day, and the words had brought in relief before they brought in the loathing. He was the reason she had been reassuring herself on the other side of the words.

Over and over in the nights that followed, Sam was doomed to listen to her taps, reliving the guilt, knowing he was the reason. Every night her reassurances ended with ‘good night, Princess’ and he couldn’t help but wonder who said them to her. Not that he’d had a prayer in the world of ever knowing. Sam had believed himself to be too hated to attempt to talk to her.

And yet, here he was looking at the cluttered table before him, and remembering how she left the library table littered with all her drawings, and remembering the look she had given him when he’d handed her the portfolio.

She talked to him now, smiled at his jokes and glanced at him like she didn’t hate him. That was more than Sam had ever expected or hoped.

“It’s late. You should sleep.”

Sam turned around to see Cas standing in the doorway.

Groaning to himself, Sam closed his eyes and tried to harden his voice. “Could say the same about you.”

Cas regarded him evenly and Sam had that weird feeling of being looked right through. This was exactly why he didn’t want to travel with Cas. It was nearly impossible to put on a face for him. Cas knew where Y/N came from and had most certainly guessed why. Sam had already been sick and tired of it all before Y/N came into his life. Now, after letting his guard down around her, it was damn near impossible to put it back up with his people.

With deliberate steps, Cas shortened the distance between them. Once face to face, Cas sighed. “For the millionth time, Sam, why are you doing this?”

“You know why.” Sam’s very soul felt weary.

Cas huffed out an exasperated breath, frustration evident in the gesture. “Everyone’s asking questions, and one day you’ll have to answer them all. Why’re you doing this and where did that girl come from.”

“Her name’s Y/N,” Sam corrected automatically. She liked being addressed by her name, and though Cas’ ‘the girl’ had been anything but unkind, Sam corrected him anyway.

“Y/N,” said Cas, balancing the name on his tongue. “No one believes your story.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“You know what frustrates me?” Thundered Cas, abruptly. “It’s that you don’t trust me anymore. You can fool the whole damn world with your tough act, but you can’t fool me. I’ve been around for too long to fall for your farce. And Dean–”

“Don’t say his name,” Sam cut in sharply. “You know I don’t–”

“Like talking about him?” Cas barked. “Well, too bad, because you’re losing your edge now. Not long before your whole show falls apart. And bringing the girl into this? Dragging her into this godforsaken mess?”

“She’s better off here than where she was before.”

Cas narrowed his blue eyes. “So now you have a saviour complex?”

“No!” God no. If anything, Sam felt the exact opposite of that. “Look, I don’t need to explain myself. But, if you want to… you can help me with something. ”

“What?”

“Look into her past. Find out whatever you can about her.”

Cas frowned. “Sam, but the first condition of–”

“I know what the conditions of the deal were. I can’t look into it. But you can.”

Pacing across the room, Cas muttered under his breath, clearly annoyed. He finally stopped before Sam. “Fine.”

Sam almost smiled.

Cas scowled. “Just because you like her, doesn’t mean you need to put your ass in line…”

The rest of Cas’s words were drowned in the rush of blood in Sam’s ears. Was it so obvious?

Cas might have said something more; he gave another disappointed sigh and stalked off. The newly hired security had been astounded by Cas’s informality towards Sam, but he’d been like family for too long, Dean’s best friend. And despite what had happened, he refused to believe Sam’s parroted version of the past, refused to abandon the post. For the most part, Sam was too grateful to complain about the occasional outbursts Cas bestowed upon him… much like tonight.

Reeling from what might have just been Cas’s off-hand comment, Sam packed up his briefcase and headed to the hotel room. It wasn’t until after he’d settled in bed, that he finally felt the emptiness sink in.

Reaching out to the wall behind, knowing that no one would answer, he tapped out:

G-O-O-D N-I-G-H-T Y-N

He had only just closed his eyes when his phone pinged. And Sam’s entire body felt like it was melting within itself when he read the text: “Goodnight, princess.”

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

A/N 2: So, we’re finally into Sam’s head, huh? Would you like to hang out there more often? And what did you think of the chapter? ;)

Please do let me know if you liked this part. Reblogs and comments are what keep me going!

If you want to be tagged, you can send me an ask or you can add yourself to the taglist here.

Or here’s my side blog @percywinchester27-writes. You can give that blog a follow and turn the notifications on to know about updates.

TNWM taglist:

@cosicas-cuquis @daughterleftbehind @maliburenee @spn730015 @aeo10fan @stoneyggirl2 @houseforwhores @like-a-bag-of-potatoes @linki-locks11 @cookiechipdough @impalaimagining @gabavaldman @multifandom-slxt @chalicia @mrswhozeewhatsis @likhelbentin @vividreader @mackiemcb @qveenmikaelson @lightchesters @deanwanddamons @bluedragonflylady @daddys-littlewhitegirl @mlovesstories @sams-bubblegum-bitch @chinosherlock @hoboal87 @sandlee44 @mariaenchanted @little-x-wolf @theanniewisegirl @supraveng @i-is-for-inspiring @fandom-princess-forevermore @sammedeansandwhich @trexrambling @wittysunflower @strawberryycows @joseyrw @agenthellcat @lacilou @giggles1026 @aloneatpeace @perpetuallyoverwhelmed @borhapparker @wafflezo

#sam winchester x reader #sam x reader #sam winchester #sam love club #sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester reader insert #sam winchester x you #sam x you #sam x y/n #sam winchester x y/n #reader x sam winchester #Ana writes Sam #anawrites #anawritesspn #Ana writes tnmw #tnmw8 #q

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krii-bolts · 1 year

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✨N's FLASHBACKS!!✨

OKAY, ITS TIME TO COVER THE LIKE. 3 SHOTS OF FLASHBACK THAT WE GOT Also big thanks to Physics Anon and @runitails for their science contribution on the last Post, Khan and the Nori Closet, when it came to the spirals and their Red Text Equations

Again, EP 4 Spoilers!! Even though its been a while by now..

I'll admit, the following screenshots were not done by me (Cause mine sucked in quality) SO KUDOS TO THE PEEPS I SNATCHED THEIR SCREENSHOTS FROM Caussee I dont remember em (My bad ;-;)

ANYWAYS

^ OH boy her again.. and shes EATING A HUMAN HAND.

I see a lot of people refering her as CYN and honestly. I can't blame em, it fits (Especially with the Solver symbol as their right eye)

Ofc, I also see some simularities between This Drone and Nori (From the braided sides to similar swooped hair) but thats Lackluster Evidence at best and a mere coincidence at worst, so I dont believe in it... But might as well bring it up-

Orrrrr they could be sisters, i just realized. Making Nori 002 and This Drone / CYN 001.... uhoh.

^ Even with a clearer Quality photo, I got not much to say off of this..

What I can say is that its a Human arm, weirdly blacked out, being carried on some... claw? Its weird. This whole screenshot is weird. Gonna wait on this one.

I SHOULD MENTION THOUGH, FROM THIS PHOTO AND THE PREVIOUS ONE, THERES A VISIBLE PALE YELLOW OVERLAW ON THEM + LINES OF CODE.

It does not match the DD vision that we saw in Episode 1 in either, I checked and it was far different then these flashbacks.

I may be stretching it when it comes to these Flashbacks, do keep that in mind lol..

^ This. This scares me. And its where Physics Anon and Runitail's contributions come into play.

This is a fucking Black hole. And while I don't have Melanophobia (Fear of Blackholes), I know well enough the kinds of effects Blackholes can cause..

Apart from the jarring Blackhole, this is the FUCKING MANSION. THAT MANSION, and its being pulled apart so this blackhole is PRETTY DAMN CLOSE.

A blackhole that big and that close, can only spell bad news to the planet its nearest too, and in this case its Earth. That is if its a Regular Blackhole, and I don't its a typical blackhole...

I think Absolute Solver created this blackhole. From the [null] in the center aka "Nothingness" in a computers eyes to the lines of codes that flash behind it. Remember how Eldritch J collapsed in on itself and floated away as a "tiny black ball" in Ep 2??? It's hard to notice, but there's a Gravity Distortion around those balls... like what a Black hole would have.

Finally, lets bring in the Two Equations / Concepts that Physics Anon and Runitail brought it: Technological singularity and Artificial black hole. Artificial Black Hole concept adds more fuel to the possibilities of a Solver Created Blackhole but Technological Singularity?

To put the Technological Singularity concept into a """Shortened""" definition: A hypothetical Future where Technological growth becomes uncontrollable and irreversible, creating unexpected changes to human civilization... While Runi mentioned about Drone civilization becoming either Changed or Consumed, I don't think that's the case..

--------------------------------

Human Civilization, more specifically JCjenson, goes and creates the Drone models. These Models are of Similar, if not the exact same, in intelligence to humans and were created for the need of a workforce thats expendable. Ofc like humans, not everyone wants to be pushed around and exploited by someone else, even if most don't or CAN'T realize this reality. And some rebel, even if its Futile... Some, whoever, were more successful and Dangerous then others. Experiments, Mutated Coding, who knows, but these Special Drones had the chance to rebel and succeed in it too: With a oily cost. Most of these drones were numbered with collars, so that JCjenson maybe could try and get things under control, for they knew what could happen if they didn't keep an eye on them.... They knew what would happen to Human Civilization if their Uncontrolled and Irreversible Technology ever reached earth.

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Sorry this took longer then expected, I uh... was struggling a little on how to do this one cause N's Flashbacks are a little wack when it comes to stand alone theories. Did I stretch information on some? ABSOLUTELY, please yell at me at what things could be different or what I miss cause I probably did miss something.. (Also my brain is telling me to make Nori fanart woooo)

#murder drones theory rants #SORRY FOR HOW BIG AND CHATTY THIS ONE IS. AGAIN VERY WACK FLASHBACKS #I need a 2nd brain of perspective on this one. or perhaps 4 brains

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dhampiravidi · 2 months

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that never happened - sure it did

from here!

Jas knew she was taking a risk when she finally decided to break into Tony Stark's mansion. She needed to get into the bottom level, where there was plenty of robotic armor he could control remotely & where the computer she needed to access was. Stark's AI, JARVIS, was yet another obstacle. & obviously, she'd be in trouble if Stark himself caught her. So she waited until an opportunity presented itself. When Stark was seen in Germany as Iron Man, she went to Malibu, CA. & when the news reported the beginning of some invasion in New York a day later, she hauled ass & went to the mansion. Of course, she didn't go by herself.

A while back, she'd had a bodysuit commissioned that made the wearer invisible to technology by blocking the person's heat signals. It was hard to breathe in, but Jas wouldn't need it for long, especially when she could temporarily block her own body heat. Long story short, Jas took a detour, then swam up to the cliff that Stark's place sat on. She scaled it using her powers, walked right in & her Hot Box was going through both SHIELD & Stark's database (apparently he'd accessed their stuff before) when a pleasant voice told her that she'd been caught. JARVIS had noticed the movements in the computer system. She had to tell him her story to keep him from calling the authorities (some of whom might shoot her on sight if they didn't literally want her blood to test).

"Jas," she said with a frown, correcting JARVIS's boss, "That's 'Jas' like 'ass', not like the music 'jazz'." Not that he'd be around her much longer, since he had probably called some SHIELD agents to pick her up. Well, she was always ready for a fight. "I already told your butler. I needed to find some information about Vaya Saunders. She worked for David Tech Inquiries some time ago." She was used to telling parts of the truth & to keeping a straight face in tense situations. But she wasn't used to speaking to many more people than her temporary contacts & enemies who had temporarily caught her. So it felt weird.

@delightindarkness

#jkw: thread #delightindarkness

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yiga-hellhole · 5 months

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Hiiiiiiiii, can i get uhhhh a #1 and #27 for Zant, a #33 for Yuga, and a #48 for Ghirahim for the random character asks thing

THESE ARE INTERESTING!

Zant

#1: Canon I outright reject

now, this is only dubiously canon… the game in and of itself has nothing i object to. it builds up well! his actual character can be interpreted in a versatile way. the only things i would have changed were the frequency of how often he shows up, because i think we could have done with more sneak-peeks into what he was up to. like, how did he interact with Zelda while keeping her imprisoned in the palace? what was the encounter when he cursed Midna like? oh, so much potential.

the MANGA HOWEVER……. the suggestion that he’s at least 20 years midna’s senior who predated on her was completely uncalled for. i’m willfully ignoring anything in volume 9 and later. zant is already a terrible enough person, and any more than what he’s established to be is just plain unnecessary. the implication that he was genuinely in a (twisted) love with midna at the time of his usurpation doesn’t compute with me. he hates her, through and through! i get that the scene where he restrained her after the water temple gives some tension, but to me, that always came across as a moment of power play, a desire to mess with midna… and perhaps remnants of old affection that rotted into obsession. i like to think they were childhood friends, after all.

#27: Their guilty pleasure

you follow my alt twitter. don’t act coy with me.

i’ll say it anyway. i think he’s not only a sadist, as shown in canon, but a masochist as well. pain brings him clarity… whether inflicted on someone else, or on himself. maybe that’s also why he goes into a more meek, submissive attitude when injured in hyrule warriors… shoutout to my man whimpering and crying

Yuga

#33 Something guaranteed to make them cry

there’s a funny one. cry in what sense? i think yuga is the kind of labile person to be brought to tears by many things, whether it be rage or genuine sorrow. he loves screaming and stomping and snapping throughout the entirety of albw after all, but never did Link manage to strike the snare to make him burst into tears. as for what brings him sorrow… he’s not a man to have many genuine attachments beyond himself, i think. but an easy way to do so? you’d have to wreck one of his paintings. i like to think the statues and portraits of Link around Cia’s mansion were Yuga’s work (begrudgingly so), but nasty little twerp or not. it’s still his blood sweat and tears! careful around them!

Ghirahim

#48 Scariest moment of their life

well…. that could only have been the day Demise was sealed, right? he can act uppity and grandiose all he wants, but for the war he’s razed across hyrule, only to see the man he’s dedicated his life to get bound and disappear… if anything can bring fear to his heart, much less a fear he acknowledges (you know how i feel with GanGhira and GhiraDemi), it’d be the instant loss of his life’s purpose

#madman's rambling #asked and answered #lordsooga #ask game #i love my boys

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the-meme-monarch · 2 years

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actually. what if the computer itself is the mansion and queen is the CPU or motherboard. Like swatch and tasque manager are computer programs, they're part of the computer (live in the mansion) And also queen says the battery acid pool powers the mansion (battery for the computer) i say her being the CPU bc that's considered the power/ brain of the computer and queen is The Queen. and she does directly call herself a computer and again the CPU Runs The Computer. or she could be the motherboard bc the parallel of queen and noelle's mom. and the hot mama joke

#words from the monarch #deltarune

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justwriteryan · 6 months

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Sunrise on a Manhattan Wednesday morning. All across the city, alarm clocks go off, people stir in their sleep. In the liveliest city in the world, every home, every workplace is bracing itself for day. And Avengers Tower is no exception.

Within the enormous skyscraper, Edwin Jarvis, the elderly butler quietly walks down to the kitchen to prepare breakfast for his employers. He stops. There’s a figure at the windows in the upper lobby. His six foot frame is silhouetted in the rising sunlight.

JARVIS: Good morning, Master Steven.

Steve Rogers, the former Captain America, turns to face his loyal butler.

ROGERS: God morning, Jarvis.

JARVIS: Up early again, sir?

ROGERS: I make a point of watching the sunrise as often as I can. I’ve been in hundreds of fights over the years, Jarvis. Odds are, I’ll die in one some day. I like to take a second to enjoy the beginning of a new day before we launch head-first into all the madness.

JARVIS: Very good, sir. I’ll prepare your morning espresso, shall I?

ROGERS: Thank you, Jarvis. That’d be great. And wake up Maria please.

MARIA: No need, commander.

Maria Hill, Steve’s second-in-command, enters the room. She’s already dressed in her uniform with an electronic tablet in her hand and a pistol strapped to her waist.

ROGERS: Good morning, agent. Run me through the morning’s reports.

MARIA: Yes, sir. Sharon got in touch during the night to say she’s proceeding with the final phase on that mission in Egypt, and that the team will be out of touch for twenty four hours..

ROGERS: Okay…

MARIA: Intel picked up a cell of H.A.M.M.E.R loyalists in Montana. They’ve stockpiled some of Osborn’s nastier tech, and I don’t think they’re planning on building a fort with them.

ROGERS: Put a call into Victoria Hand over at the mansion, have Luke’s team investigate.

MARIA: You got it. Oh, and Sue, Reed, Johnny and the kids are on vacation in another dimension, but Ben’s decided to stay. Guess he enjoys being an Avenger better, huh?

Steve turns and smiles.

ROGERS: Whats not to love?

Maria returns the smile. For a few seconds, neither of them speak.

ROGERS: So, who do we…

BOOM!

ROGERS: What the…?

The building shakes. Across town, a column of smoke is rising.

ROGERS: Maria! Intel, now!

At that moment, several fireballs appear in the morning sky. One by one, they crash, hitting various points of the city. Explosions are heard. The city shakes again.

ROGERS: Missiles?

MARIA: No sir. They seem to coming from space. Meteors I think!

ROGERS: A meteor shower? Of this magnitude, hitting this city, with no advance word from NASA or the Baxter Building’s satellites? I’m not buying it!

The building trembles again, with more ferocity than before.

ROGERS: Another meteor?

MARIA: No, sir. That one shook the whole city! More like an earthquake! Although the seismic readings I’m seeing here…

A new sound. Gunfire. Lots of it. Mingled with explosions and for the first time, screams.

ROGERS: Computer: on!

The dining room table in the middle of the room separates in the middle. Out of the space large flat computer screen rises.

ROGERS: Show me what the situation is in Midtown!

The screen flashes on. We see various security feeds a bustling city street, thrown into panic. Marching through the streets are these horrible, grey-skinned, humanoid creatures with yellow eyes. Each one is six foot in height with a strange kind of machine gun and are mowing down anything that moves.

Steve Rogers watched the screen intently, his temper rising. Maria Hill is too shocked and scared to speak. In spite of the maelstrom on the streets and on the screen, the room is deathly quiet.

ROGERS: Computer: initiate Stark Emergency Frequency Sigma Seventy-Two.

COMPUTER: Emergency Frequency Sigma Seventy-Two activated, Commander.

ROGERS: Maria, get me S.H.I.E.L.D, S.W.O.R.D, the military, the navy, the fire department, the ambulance services and the police on the line the second I finish here. And the President too, if he isn’t trying to reach me already.

MARIA: Yes, sir.

ROGERS: People of New York, this is Commander Steven Rogers.

All at once, the former Captain America’s face appears on every television, computer screen and phone across the city. It appears at Grand Central Station and Time Square and in the homes of families huddling together for support.

ROGERS: In the last few minutes, the city has come under attack by an as-yet unknown alien invasion party. Before we tackle this threat, our first task is to prevent any more casualties. I ask you to stay indoors and only leave your home or place of work if your life depends on it. Rescue teams are coming.

Throughout the city commuters in the subway, men and women in office buildings, customers in grocery stores and families of all races, colours and nationalities watch with fear in their hearts as Steve delivers his message.

ROGERS: If you are already outside, find somewhere safe and stay there. If you’re on our way into the city at this time, use whatever means you have and evacuate the vicinity. Once again, this is Commander Steve Rogers asking you to stay put and stay safe. God bless.

The computer screen goes blank, then lights up again as the President’s face appears on it.

PRESIDENT: Good speech, Commander. I hope you have a plan to back it up.

ROGERS: Of course, Mr. President. I want as many available armed and emergency services committed to the immediate evacuation and rescue of civilians, sir.

PRESIDENT: You got it. But what are you planning on fighting these bastards with?

ROGERS: With your leave, sir, I’d like to deploy the super heroes. If this is in fact an alien invasion, then they would be the natural front line.

PRESIDENT: Very good, Steve. And this is definitely an invasion. I’m hearing that whatever these things are, wherever they came from, they’re attacking every major city in the country, maybe even the world.

ROGERS: Yes sir. Rogers out.

Steve turns back to Maria as the screen goes black.

ROGERS: Maria, patch me through to the All-Call Frequency.

MARIA: Yes, sir.

She types something onto the tablet in her hands.

MARIA: Good to go sir.

ROGERS: Attention! This is Commander Steve Rogers issuing a code red All-Call! This is a priority alert! All metahumans respond immediately! In other words…AVENGERS ASSEMBLE!

An old idea I had for a crossover where the Marvel 616 universe gets invaded by the Locust horde from Gears of War. Stay tuned!

#fanfic #fanfiction #creative writing #marvel #creative #crossover #steve rogers #maria hill #the avengers #avengers tower #new chapter #chapter 1 #gears of war

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movedtodykedvonte · 1 year

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Queen headcanons?

Oh boy do I!!!! Contrary to popular belief I do not hate the Queen.

Her job is basically to be the system the computer operates on but she’s not like the ultimate power. The Cyber World itself is unique that it is effectively a living world, Queen is just like nervous system while the rest is the body

Queen isn’t bad at her job but she’s very eccentric, the cyber world doesn’t necessarily need her to run but she just makes sure there’s no over flow in any specific department or driver

She is not the only “Queen” (cmon the internet is way too big) she’s just the Queen of that specific cyber world

Her design has changed with the advancement of technology. Like she was probably giant and godlike like the first computers and very stoic. Then got more compact and expressive as computers became more sleek

She’s so hyperactive cause this is probably the first era she’s been able to move while being able to do everything (think pc vs laptop and the relative life timespan)

She can track each cyber citizen the same why she designed the rooms for Kris and Susie and mansion guests. So she is acutely aware of who’s in the city and when

Queen likes to indulge in the less serious parts of the internet despite being a library laptop. She probably has to look up facts all day and likes to be a bit silly when she’s off

She actually makes the cyber citizens in a way. It’s more like her sending outputs for what the cyber city needs and then the Cyber World fills it. So a lot of cyber species wouldn’t exist if not for that

Sounds like Lady Gaga in my mind. I like the take she’s very monotone like text to speech unless she really tries so she forces expressions which makes her over enunciate and sound way too dramatic.

Doesn’t need to sleep or eat just has a like recharge station that works like a laptop battery

Logos over ethos and pathos unless it’s for the bit

Is completely mechanical. You can see parts of her machinery functioning through the transparent blue parts and her visor if you look closely.

She can swap out her head part and it looks like a bunch of wires underneath, kinda like locs or braids.

Her computer is technically named but she thinks it’s unflattering and goes by Queen or the serial numbers to save face (Based on the fact I name my laptop)

The reason she kicks people out of the mansion is not lack of space but memory. She likes storage to be relatively equal so if you’re taking up space without contributing you get the boot

Has gossip sessions with Swatch and Tasque about the odder mansion guests.

Talks over people a lot or too fast. Kinda like auto fill in a search bar. She means well but she treats conversations more like guessing games

Fond of wonky or obsolete designs and citizens (functions outdated or not functioning). The fact they exist with how the world works inspires her.

Doesn’t consider herself much a Queen more as a authoritarian figure head. Would prefer to just not have to be the only one in charge but she’s the only one with the capacity to do it

Has no ability to feel empathy but makes up for it by being very sympathetic and compassionate but still very rigid in the definitions (you know that conversation Greg and Rose have about treating each other like people, yeah that’s her)

Her favorite Cyber World district in the shopping one cause they give her so many free samples

I think she’s more like a fun aunt fixture to the Cyber Citizens that’s stuck baby sitting for a very long time. She’s no incompetent but a lot of the stuff just isn’t her thing. She likes to be spontaneous and vast like the internet but has to be responsible due to her position and it’s unfair but it’s her duty.

#she is royalty by status only not by being #she would rather be like an addison or swatchling or even a tasque cause at least she can just vibe #she likes being queen but making all the hard decisions that could make so many unhappy is hard and stressful #utdr #deltarune #undertale #ask #anon #queen deltarune #deltarune queen #deltarune headcanon

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buckybarnessunflower · 2 years

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Domino Effect Part 2

Description: Bucky Barnes is Hydra's greatest asset, the world's top assassin. He never misses a target, but his latest mission involves YOU, the woman he loves, the woman with a broken heart because of him. You're on the run with your sister Natasha Romanoff, together you are the most feared Widow's, you know your ex will be the one sent to kill you and your sister. Will he do it?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Reader

Chapter Warnings: brief descriptions of death

Word Count: 1511

A week ago

"Natasha we don't have much time, hurry up" you said before jumping on a large man's back and stabbing him in the neck, instantly killing him before he got to your sister.

"I've almost got all the files downloaded" She said with an edge of urgency to her voice.

You were quickly being outnumbered, the men in Alexander Pierce's mansion had all rushed to where you and Nat were after seeing on the monitor's that someone had hacked into the computer mainframe.

Before the men could react you had thrown a knife in between one of their eyes, shot the second one in the throat, the third one had dodged your first knife throw but not the second as it lodged itself deep in his thigh muscle.

"You fucking bitch" he spat through gritted teeth as you walked up to him and used your knee to break his nose.

"that hurt my feelings" you said with a smirk but it quickly disappeared when the man got up and pointed his gun at you.

"Pierce will give me a raise for killing you, squash you like the vile insect you are" he spoke as he walked towards you,blood running down his face as he aimed his gun straight at your heart.

"Too bad you won't get the chance to" you said as your lips turned up in a smile. The man had only a second to look surprised before Natasha shot him in his head, blood splattering against the egg shell white walls.

"I got it, now let's get out of here before Pierce comes back" she said showing you the USB drive.

This mansion used to be your home, it was where you and Natasha grew up and were trained as Widow’s.

You and Natasha had caught Alexander Pierce’s attention, he sent you on missions where you were required to blend in, gain your target's trust before killing them.

It didn’t take long before The Black Widow sisters climbed the ranks of Hydra, impressing Pierce with annihilating more targets than most of the men.

It helped that both you and Natasha were breathtakingly beautiful, every room you walked into all eyes were stuck on your figure, the way your hips swayed with each step you took and the way your legs looked in a tight pair of jeans or a dress a few sizes too small.

There was only one man that had caught your attention. Bucky Barnes or Soldat was his code name, he was extraordinarily handsome and when he smiled at you he never failed to take your breath away. Love was a new feeling for you, one that you weren’t expecting to find especially working for Hydra but you couldn’t deny it any longer when your stomach erupted in a swarm of butterflies every time Bucky looked your way with his gorgeous ocean blue eyes.

Years of sneaking around together, stealing hidden kisses from one another when you could, whispering “I love you’s” late at night were thrown away like it meant nothing when Bucky told you that this was all that you and him could be; secret lovers. He didn’t want to get married, didn’t want to have kids, didn’t want to call what you had together a relationship. It had broken your heart, you cut off all contact with him after that and requested to be sent on more dangerous assignments alone. You were being reckless until Nat talked to you. Nat brought you into her arms, hugging you and rocking your body back and forth that night, letting you cry. She wanted to kill Bucky for breaking your heart, she knew he loved you as much as you loved him no matter how stupid he was being.

Present Time

It had been a week of you and Nat being on the run together, being assassins made it easy for you and her to quickly blend in to new places wherever you went.

Each new city was met with a new name, you stuck to countries with different languages, the people there never asked many questions.

Before running away together you had grabbed all the money you could without being too suspicious, this was too important to have had your plan ruined by being careless.

Paris was a beautiful country, at one point you had dreamed about you and Bucky coming here one summer on a romantic vacation.

Small cafe’s could be found on every street corner, the delicious smell of freshly baked bread and sweets making your stomach growl.

It had been a few days since you and Nat had had a good meal, it was more important to move only when necessary, with every step that was taken you both were watching your backs knowing that Pierce had men and women all over the world searching for you and the information on the USB port Nat had.

Alexander Pierce would have no problem putting million dollar bounties on your heads to make sure no Hydra secrets were released.

Nat had let you go get food, the markets had fresh fruit and baked goods made by elderly women that always tasted amazing.

You offered them a warm smile as you bought plums and banana bread from one lady, your arms were filled as you also bought pasta and salsa; eagerly accepting a bag from the lady to make it easier to carry everything.

Your eyes were constantly scanning the vendors and looking down every street you passed by. You could feel someone watching you but you couldn’t make a scene here in such a public place.

In your free hand you tightly grabbed your knife, ready to attack at any moment as you led whoever was following you down streets and alleys.

Bucky followed closely behind you, he watched as a little girl selling flowers walked up to you and you bent down to her eye level as you gave her money for them.

He hated to look away from the simple interaction, he couldn't help but feel

a sharp pain in his chest as he remembered your break up months ago was still fresh in his mind. You had so badly wanted kids of your own and wanted to start a family with him before he stomped on your dreams, breaking your heart.

When you started walking again Bucky continued to follow you down every twist and turn in the roads, the sun glaring down on his neck and making him sweat in his leather jacket. His moves were quick and calculated, ensuring that he looked like a tourist looking at goods instead of a highly trained assassin following their target.

"Still following me Barnes?" you asked as you stopped in the middle of a dark alley and turned to look at him.

Of course you would have realized you were being followed, you had the same extensive training as him.

Bucky didn't answer, just looked at you as you walked closer to him until you were standing right in front of him, knife blade pressed against his throat.

"Why haven't you killed me yet?" You asked, he couldn't help but think that you still looked beautiful even when you looked angry.

"I know Pierce sent you to kill me" His ocean blue eyes stared at you unblinking, looking closer into his irises you could see the storm raging beneath them.

"Bucky" you said again now looking concerned, your eyes grew wide in utter surprise when he crashed his chapped lips onto yours after pulling the knife out of your hand. Your lips moved in a long forgotten dance, molding together, only stopping for a breath of air before lips crashed against the other again.

Bucky pulled away, chest heaving in much needed air but he didn't stray far as he leaned his forehead on yours and closed his eyes as he let the scent of your perfume fill his senses.

"Doll" he said, voice raspy from disuse but still you could hear the guilt in it.

A tear rolled down your cheek, Bucky wiped it away with his thumb before kissing your cheek.

"He'll kill you if you don't complete the mission" you said looking into the deep depths of his eyes, it was like waves pulling you further in. Bucky shook his head, swallowing the lump down forming in his throat.

"I'm not going to hurt you, I've hurt you before I'm not doing it again" at his confession more tears slid down your cheeks.

"Bucky please" you begged but not knowing exactly what for as he wrapped his arms around your waist bringing you impossibly closer to him before he leaned down and kissed you, your tears mixing in.

Clapping from further down the alley caught your attention, a figure shrouded by the darkness walked closer until he stood where the evening sun hit his face.

Bucky pushed you behind him protectively when he realized who had followed him to you,

"Rumlow" he growled, trying to cage you in behind him using his body as a shield.

<Part One

TAGLIST:

@eclecticpatrolroadlawyer

#mob!bucky #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes angst #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes fluff #mafia!bucky #black widow!reader

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phantomcellar · 1 year

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Murder drones theory Time

Spoilers for Episode 4 ahead

Ok so the new Episode got me thinking and I'm starting to think that the solver is somehow sentient in a way, and may even be behind the core collapse.

1) The Basics:

"The singularity awakens". I think this refers to a Technological Singularity, i.e when Technological growth becomes uncontrollable and irreversable.

I think this definitely refers to how the absolute solver, which was likely developed/researched on Copper 9, either became sentient itself, or perhaps a Drone with the solver gained sentience and broke from their programming because of the Solver and then took control of it. I do lean more towards the latter and I'll explain why and how this connects to CYN, aswell as the 4th Drone in the Mansion in Part 2) of this Post.

It is also worth mentioning that the only drones who seem to have a sense of Danger/Self Preservation are the ones connected to the Solver somehow. Like how Lizzy would've let Eldritch J in (she seems scared at first when she says "that girl…." and then just goes "is gorgeus right?", like a switch just flipped inside of her), or how that one drone just went along with the crappy Illusion and so on. This is because its part of their programming, so that they can do dangerous work and be controlled more easily. And the solver nullifies that.

Furthermore, I think its very likely (or pretty much confirmed) that Nori,Yeva and the at LEAST 46 other Drones from the "Cabin Fever" lab thing were used in Experiments with the Solver, but then Broke Free after the Core collapse, which the Solver is responsible for (either through CYN or itself).

2) Nori, CYN and the Solver:

First of all:

Second:

A small human hand. May be the one the 4th Drone is eating

And Finally:

What seems like a Black Hole with a null inside the hole (which in computer programming is like a "nothing" or "not here" type of value)

This may be one of three things

A literal Black hole and the actual "singularity" that Nori was rambling about.

The end goal of the solver, aka create a Black hole to wipe out organic life (unlikely imo)

A symbolic representation of either how the solver wants to wipe out organic life or, the solver itself, being the "singularity" that kills all humans.

As mentioned earlier, I think a drone (who imo is called CYN) gained sentience and more importantly independence, perhaps through the solver, and then took over said solver. CYN then caused the Planets core to become unstable and caused all organic life on Copper 9 to die, except for the Drones. This however, killed seemingly killed them, but in reality this caused them to fully take over the solver, becoming the Solver basically.

All was well until the humans realised what had happened on Copper 9. Whether or not they knew if the solver was directly responsible for the catastrophe is not exactly clear, but they knew that the solver drones cant just be left to their own devices (maybe because they showed signs of rebellion even before, which could also be the reason for the creation of the VHS) so the humans decide to create and send the Dissasembly Drones.

And thus the humans take N,V,J, the 4th drone and perhaps more and insert the solver into them. Now why do this? Because Solver infected drones are immune against the telekinesis powers of other solver drones, thus they cant just be oneshot and the healing powers also help.

CYN however notices this and decides to get a new body, aka. the 4th drone (whether or not the body had a drone mind inside before is not clear to me). CYN then goes ballistic in their new body, maybe even being responsible for the organic things the solver can do, although I think that was there from the start.

This is the reason why V is so scared when Uzi turns the arrow into that weird meat thing and when Solver Uzi goes around killing, she has seen this before and suspects CYN has found a new body in Uzi (I dont think she quite knows who CYN was before the 4th drone tho), "New Body, same horrors, huh, CYN".

The humans are scared after this and block all functionalities of the sovler in the DDs, except healing and the immunity against telekinesis. After which they still send the drones to copper 9 anyways, thinking CYN was just a rogue drone who went mad because of the solver.

It is said that the Doors were Nori's idea, who somehow knew that the Murder Drones were coming, I think this because CYN was warning her (and other drones aswell, like the dead one we see in the episode) about the dissasemblers.

3) Conclusion

So yeah thats the theory. I have my suspicions about whats gonna happen next but I'll share those once I have more info and can create a theory.

There also may be some things that could perhaps be changed:

CYN could still just be the 4th mansion drone who went mad because of the solver. And the Absolute Solver is itself what caused everthing to happen (either way the "More like you're our cute little puppets" line makes sense)

How and Why does N get a flashback from the VHS? As for the how I think there are just multiple copies of it, I mean it is a training video after all, probably for the employees not the DDs tho. So its likely he saw one back on earth, perhaps while they were made into Dissasemblers. As for the Why Im Not 100% sure.

Ok thats all thank you for reading. If you have questions, feedback or found a mistake (I speedran this after going through the episode like 6-7ish times lol) then please tell me.

#murder drones #murder drones theory #absolute solver #md theory #murder drones spoilers #Uzi doorman #Nori Doorman #CYN #Murder drones CYN #I really just did this instead of school work huh

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frenchifries · 2 years

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Deltarune.com “Secret” Pages

People have already catalogued the secret pages in Google Docs (1, 2), but they’re a little scattered for my tastes, so I thought I’d try to make my own. This is a compilation of information discovered by myself and many other people, so lots of credit goes to everyone who contributed to the linked documents!

1 & 2. code & code/comments

The bottom of the sweepstakes page contains this banner...

...which links to this “blog post” in which Noelle mentions the official Dragon Blazers website (an in-universe video game many Deltarune characters play) updating with “a bunch of weird links.” The number of links mentioned was originally lower (the first reported number seems to be 14), but increased as more pages went live on the Deltarune site, capping out at 26.

The included audio file, midi-holiday-country.mp3, is a country-style rendition of jingle bells. In the post comments, Berdly attempts to convince Noelle to make him a mod or admin of the blog, which she rejects by alleging that her computer is bugged and the admin panel won’t work.

Berdly also complains that someone keeps prank calling him, as he has included his phone number in his username; the number was originally a static fake phone number (beginning with 555) but was at some point changed to randomize itself on every page load; it still has a 555 area code, and the number itself is one digit too long to be valid.

Jockington comments to ask if Dragon Blazers contains sports; it doesn’t.

3. icee

The sweepstakes page also displays one of three randomized banners. this one...

...links to a page titled Have you seen him? containing a submission from Noelle as a young child (with poor spelling and grammar) in which she encountered a creepy Ice-e’s pizza box. As we know from her room in Queen’s mansion, Noelle has had something of a fixated fear of the Ice-e character, worrying that he’s real and potentially dangerous.

The mention of Noelle’s sister at the end there is exciting! Let’s see what that links to!

4. december

...Oh. Well, you will notice this is of course a fake 404 page. It could certainly be a reference to the fact that December is known to be missing, perhaps even trapped outside of reality/within the game’s code itself. The note “had its name changed” could also be trying to make a point that Noelle’s sister doesn’t actually go by that name anymore; After all, we’ve mostly heard her referred to as...

5. dess

This page doesn’t seem to be linked from anywhere, but its existence may be intentionally hinted at by the above page. It contains a sprite of a guitar, and the page title reads * (It’s a red guitar).

When the guitar is clicked, a version of Lost Girl plays. The song is called findher.mp3, and was also uploaded as a short, titled decemberholiday.ogg, to the holidaygirl1225 Youtube channel (we might circle back on this in another post, as this one is going to be atrociously long).

All of this suggests that the song Lost Girl is indeed intended to be associated, at least in part, with our very own lost girl Dess Holiday, and that Dess may have played guitar. Interestingly, when Deltarune Chapter 2 is hacked so you can attempt to equip the Puppet Scarf to Noelle, she comments that it “feels like guitar strings.” Noelle is known to draw comparisons to things that remind her of her sister.

6. secretpipis

Now, let’s get back to those banners.

This one links to a page with an image of a single pipis, which plays a crowd gasping sound effect (crowd_gasp.mp3) when clicked. the page is titled You lost! Not much else to this one.

7. secret

The final banner we’re looking at links to a page titled But what’s behind door number one? containing a 4x4 grid of blue cabinets.

Clicking each cabinet opens it, accompanied by a sound effect labeled wing.mp3. Most will simply show the open empty cabinet and play a crowd groaning sound effect (crowd_ouch.mp3). The following cabinets will trigger different effects:

Row 1, Column 2: A Ralsei plush appears, accompanied by the adoring crowd_aww.mp3.

Row 2, Column 3: A pipis appears, accompanied by crowd_gasp.mp3.

Row 3, Column 4: A photo of an empty gumball machine appears, accompanied by crowd_ahh.mp3.

Row 4, Column 1: A cropped screenshot from the Wikipedia page for the website Superbad, a “web art” project from the late 90s.

Row 4, Column 3: Links to...

8. chair

This eerie page contains a picture of a chair with a cloth draped over its back.

Clicking the chair changes the page title from But what if it could... to ...get darker than dark? and swaps the chair with a dark, undulating version of itself, accompanied by the sound effect water.mp3.

There is also a smallish chance that clicking the chair will result in a “jumpscare” consisting of Spamton’s pixellated eyes, accompanied by the creepy laughter sound face.mp3; this jumpscare will quickly redirect to the main sweepstakes page.

9. catpetterz

Linked in the description of the “Fur-thentic Cardboard Box,” this is another blog post from Noelle in which she discusses one of her favorite games, Cat Petterz 2. The accompanying audio file is a corrupted-sounding version of the first one, midi-holiday-country.mp3, except this one is deceptively titled midi-holiday_country.mp3 – the second dash is replaced with an underscore.

I love Noelle’s discussions of weird, vaguely unsettling video game lore and mechanics. It feels very realistic to how many games, especially older ones, have aspects that aren’t inherently outright scary, but that, especially to a young mind, can come across as creepy and disturbing. I remember having plenty of irrational fears around strange video game glitches as a kid!

The link at the end here leads us to...

10. egg

Another entry from Noelle, although it seems the black and gray pages represent her personal blog or digital journal, as opposed to the pink blog where she talks about games specifically – though the page title on these entries is still “Welcome to holidaygirl1225’s game secrets, glitches, and theories blog!” so I guess it’s all supposed to be part of the same blog. The link at the end links back to /code.

In this post we learn that Noelle encountered a “special egg” in Cat Petterz that never hatched, made a weird sound when clicked, and “left home due to happiness” after being cared for as opposed to running away from neglect. She suspects the problem arose from having too many incompatible mods, but the fact that this page is linked from a second source – and that Noelle is certain the egg had a name despite being unable to remember what it was – suggests another possible source of said egg.

11. man

Sources say this page actually existed on the Deltarune website before the sweepstakes. I believe I remember seeing it as well, but I couldn’t tell you with 100% confidence. It mimics the strange hidden rooms in Chapters 1 and 2 in which Kris encounters the man who gives them eggs.

The page is titled * (Behind the tree.). – yes, with a period inside and outside the parenthesis – and clicking the space above the tree links to /egg.

12. bluecircle

Continuing Noelle’s Cat Petterz 2 saga, in this post – linked from the description of the Pipis Bath Rug – Noelle recounts the time she put some “random letters and numbers” from a mysterious spam email into the game as a mod.

When loaded, the game created a glitchy creature consisting of a single blue circle, capable of reproducing on its own until it created so many copies that the game crashed.

I wonder if Noelle’s note about how she “couldn’t explain why anyone liked it, but it was really funny to see who did XD” is meant to reflect people’s unexpected reaction to Spamton as a character 🤔

Once again, the link at the end leads back to /code.

13. kris dreemurr kriss

Let’s wrap up Noelle’s last two blog posts. They’re both marked as private, only visible to friends. This one is linked in the description for the Heart Locket. In it, Noelle recalls when she and Kris were younger and would play together at her house. Apparently Kris would sometimes play piano. The page is accompanied by an audio file called pianpian.mp3 that consists of... somewhat odd piano music.

So it seems Kris used to play piano, though we know from interacting with the hospital piano that they seem unable to do so while under the player’s control.

14. the n3w3st g1rl g1rl

Linked from the description of the Engraved Wristwatch – and no, I’m not sure what it means that the URL is spelled like that. Here Noelle describes an incident, likely shortly after Susie joined their class, in which Susie threatened Kris and said their mom would be happier without them. Yikes!

It’s interesting how Noelle seemingly recognizes how brutal this behavior is while still retaining her desire for Susie to push her around. Other people in other posts have already talked at length about Susie’s potential reasons for saying this stuff and how Kris might feel about it, so I won’t linger on it here.

15. d a m n y o u t e n n a

Now this is an interesting one! Linked in the description of the Spamton Engraved Wedding Ring – specifically, the text reading [It hurts! It Hurts!]. The page is titled DELETE THIS !. We’ve got a TV with a red X over it, and Spamton’s ramblings about how everything is someone’s fault, and that everyone will pay, except...

Mike, whose name is written in black so as to blend in with the background.

Tenna, of course, likely refers to a TV antenna. Is this another character involved in the Chapter 3 Dark World and Spamton’s backstory?

Clicking on the TV changes the page to TV static and the title to YOU’RE EARLY!, accompanied by the sound effect tv_static_bad.mp3. Scrolling down this page reveals some difficult-to-read white text that says “WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE? YOU SHOULDN’T BE HERE!” At the bottom of the page are two clickable images, camouflaged with the background as they also consist of TV static. The upper one changes the page yet again to a blue screen, titled AREN’T YOU FORGETTING SOMETHING? When you scroll back to the top, you will find a... door?

Which takes us to...

16. icepalace glaceir

(Yes, it’s spelled glaceir. Also for the record, the “broken image” is in fact a properly embedded image called screen.gif that intentionally mimics the old-school broken image icon.) Did I say we wrapped up Noelle’s blog posts? Sorry, I lied. It’s 2:30 in the morning where I am right now!

Ah yes, more old childhood video game weirdness. Noelle talks about a maze in Dragon Blazers where you can get stuck if you access it without the necessary character in your party. Except, in her persistent curiosity, she found a way to a door, and was able to repeat this despite feeling like the process is different every time. Unfortunately, she could never figure out how to open that door...

17. ramb

back on the static screen, we will find that the lower clickable image takes us to a... different door. The page title is Where could this be?

Clicking the door changes the title to Welcome to the Green Room! and we are greeted by a very pleasant looking room with some sofas, TVs, a bar (with a little Maus hanging up in it? Also swords?), and perhaps some sort of vending machine. A nice chill variant of the already quite chill Hip Shop, called greenroom.mp3. This seems like a shop area that will be in Chapter 3.

Each door leads to a different page. The one on the left takes us to...

18. weather

Here we seem to get a sneak peek of a couple weather-based Darkners we’ll likely encounter in Chapter 3! Exciting stuff! For some reason, the title of this page is You’re the Annoying Now Dog! (a reference to the website You’re the Man Now, Dog).

Clicking on these guys gets us a full page of them doing a little attack animation, large text that says THE WEATHER ALWAYS STICKS TOGETHER, and a variant of Rude Buster called battle_vapor.mp3.

i feel it’s worth mentioning that the 3D text effect was achieved by duplicating, resizing, repositioning, and recoloring every line multiple times (about 30-40 times each).

19. changingroom

Back in the Green Room, the door with the star on it takes us to the “changing room,” a page titled (Private...). A pink curtain awaits, just begging to be clicked.

Doing so cues up the “wing” sound effect again, and reveals a “Shadowman” putting on a sock. After a moment, he screams, using the aptly-titled scream.mp3.

There is also a chance that, instead of a Shadowman, you will find a tiny spinning Lancer!

Doing nothing will result in the curtain simply closing again, allowing you to open and close it as many times as you wish. However, you can also click on the Shadowman or Lancer before the curtain closes to go to, well, /shadowmen or /lancer! So let’s look at those.

20. shadowmen

More exciting stuff! This appears to be a preview of a Chapter 3 battle against Darkners called Shadowmen, sock-wearing cartoony gangster type characters that wield saxophones and shotguns. We get to see the Fun Gang “knock their socks off” with this cool group attack that for some reason involves wearing slick suits!

battle_vapor.mp3 also accompanies this battle. This page is also linked from the description of the Ralsei Nurse Costume For Plush.

21. lancer

Just a lil picture of a very small round Lancer, also linked in the description of the Lancer Cookie. Shares the You’re the Annoying Now Dog! title with /weather.

Clicking on Lancer does a similar thing as /weather as well, showing us a full page of repeating, spinning Lancers and large text that says HO HO HO! YOU JUST GOT LANCERED!!! with the same 3D text trick, accompanied by a fast-paced chiptune rendition of Lancer’s theme, called lancer-spin.mp3.

22. tv

Okay! Back to /ramb (the Green Room)! Finally, the door on the right leads to...

A TV, turned off. No, really, that’s all that’s on this page. I’m looking at the source code right now. It’s just this. The page title simply reads * It’s off.

23. bluebubble.rodeo

This is an odd one, as it’s not even technically hosted on deltarune.com but is its own standalone URL – which is found on the Spamton Toiler Paper. Not in the description for the toilet paper. ON the toilet paper.

Yeah, if you zoomed in to read that and decided to type in that URL, you would be greeted by a picture of Kris and Susie in cowboy attire on a page titled Get ready for 2 minutes of mildly entertaining shoot-out action! Clicking on the image plays a whip sound effect (whip.mp3).

24. blink

A page titled What? depciting Susie in her dark world outfit lying down asleep.

Clicking on her will cause her to open her eyes, appearing confused. She will proceed to blink at random intervals, with each blink accompanied by blink.mp3.

Clicking on her again will put her back to sleep.

25. sighting

A page titled SIGHTING 1997 depicting a slow zoom in on a grainy black and white photograph of a Spamton plush sitting on a toilet. Clicking anywhere on the page switches to a different photo and causes digitalroots.mp3 to start playing.

26. dog

I... don’t know why I saved this one for last. It’s not the most exciting page. I was just trying to group things together in ways that made sense, and these last few pages sort of wound up here at the end. Sorry.

This one is pretty straightforward. Titled HALL OF FAME, it’s linked from the description of the Championship Belt. Clicking on the image causes the Annoying Dog to appear in the picture frame, with the words BEST INU emblazoned across the plaque, and playing a triumphant variation of HEY EVERY ! simply called dog.mp3.

conclusion?

So, depending on how you count up all these pages – does /code count even though it introduces the idea of the secret pages? does /code/comments count as its own page? – that brings us to 26 pages, the final number mentioned in Noelle’s original blog post.

It took me a long time to write up and format this post! I think we’re approaching the 5 hour mark. So I hope the information here is cool and interesting to everyone, and if anyone has any questions, comments, addendums, or corrections, feel free to let me know.

Oh, and if you haven’t already, be sure to check out Toby’s September status update! Some neat stuff is in there.

#deltarune

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crepuscura · 1 year

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Whumpcember2022 Day 7: Scars

WARNINGS: collars, imprisonment, wound descriptions, implied abuse, manipulation, vampires, gratuitous descriptions, OCs

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Rowan shook in her room, the chain connected to the metal collar around her neck clanking irritatingly in her ear. She grimaced, tracing tentative fingertips over the cool surface of her newest accessory.

She didn’t remember returning to Damia’s mansion, but that didn’t mean much when you considered Damia herself. Rowan was sure it had taken no time at all to get her back after she’d collapsed in the freezing cold winter.

Damia was strong, impossibly fast, ancient to a degree that didn’t compute in Rowan’s brain. Her plump lips were always blood red— from lipstick or actual blood, Rowan was never sure— and the tips of her fangs just barely peeked out of her mouth, a looming threat and, perhaps, a tantalizing promise. They served as a constant reminder of who was in charge.

She’d always romanticized vampires in her head. Beautiful, cold, the impossibly misunderstood creatures of literary old who just wanted to belong, just wanted to be able to love and exist without being persecuted for something they couldn’t control. And, truth be told, Rowan had always fantasized about becoming one.

With a sickening twist in her gut, she realized she still did, even despite everything that had happened to her.

Turning her head, Rowan gazed around the room that had long ago become her prison. Ornate, tall, dark wooden furniture was placed throughout the room. She stood and wandered over to the dresser, trailing her fingers along the intricate carvings donning its molding. Twisting, reaching vines crawled up its sides, the leaves so detailed that she could feel the veins carved into each one. All of the furniture in the room was adorned with matching motifs, but Rowan found the dresser to be the most beautiful of them all.

Her eyes skimmed along the top of it, skipping over the few knick-knacks and trinkets that dotted its surface, and landed next on the heavy burgundy velvet curtains, detailed with gold threading and tassels. Between her fingers, it was soft and thick and felt sewn with intentional warmth and delicacy, and at the back of her mind, Rowan wondered at its origin and whether Damia could have created it herself.

The enormous four-poster canopy bed was decked in the same rich color, embroidered with a subtle repetitive design of plants and organic shapes and bats. The bats, though, had a quiet detailing of gold weaved within them, pulling the eye toward them the most. Each side of the bed was framed with side tables of decent size that carried delicate Tiffany lamps, and to the left of the setup a few yards away was an inviting stone fireplace that held an audience of two overstuffed armchairs. On either side of the fireplace itself stood large overflowing bookcases containing every possible genre anyone could ever want to read. A doorway to the left of those led to a gorgeous ensuite bath, private and her own to use and enjoy as she pleased.

Between the bathroom door and the bookcase sat an antique standing mirror, and, catching her eye, Rowan slowly approached it. Though it was bulky and shiny and new, the collar clasped around her neck wasn’t what held her attention.

Unsure when, Rowan had been dressed in a matching plaid flannel pajama set, the sleeves short and the pants long and the neckline low enough that part of her shoulders were exposed to the cold air of the room.

Her skin, pale and sallow, shone one of the scars she’d forgotten she had: a harsh dark pink line running several inches downward toward one of her breasts, as well as tearing across the corresponding shoulder blade on her back. She knew there were two more jagged lines next to it; permanent demonstrations of Damia’s possessiveness.

Rowan tilted her head in the mirror, her eyes fixed on the raised pink scar on her skin. She reached her hands up, undoing the buttons on her pajama shirt. Each one she undid further raised the goosebumps on her arms, but she didn’t care. She was far too focused.

Letting her shirt flutter to the floor, she took a step forward toward herself. Her chest bare, a shiver threatened to break her concentration, but as she neared her reflection, she rotated her chest around, tilting her shoulder down to get a better look at the marks marring her skin.

She had hated them at first. She’d thought them long and ugly and permanent, something that made her less, something that made her imperfect. But the longer she had them, the more she realized— they were testaments to her life, to her still living. This monster, this woman who had been alive for hundreds of years, who had claimed Rowan as her own and had done her best to break her and train her to be compliant, had yet to just kill Rowan outright, no matter how much she talked back or fought. That had to count for something.

As she ran a finger down the red lines that had been raked down her body, without conscious effort, a tear slipped down her cheek. Her face didn’t contort. Her demeanor didn’t change except for her brows to knit slightly, eyes locked on. That was why she didn’t notice the bedroom door silently sway inward.

Cold hands slid down her upper arms, fingers adorned with rings lightly dancing across her skin. Next, lips, just as cold as the hands, pressed themselves against the angry marks on Rowan’s skin. She didn’t even bother to flick her eyes up in the mirror; she knew there would be no reflection looking back at her. Kisses drifted up her neck, stopping at the pulse point just below her ear.

“Are you angry, my sweet?” Damia’s low, mollifying voice murmured. There was no malice, only curiosity.

Rowan shook her head ‘no’ once as another tear slipped out.

“Oh, my dear, none of that now,” she soothed, wiping the fresh trail away. “It just shows you how much I love having you at my fingertips.”

And that was just it. Damia loved having her. Rowan wasn’t sure if that could even compare to actually being loved by her, and she wasn’t sure she would ever know what being loved by her felt like.

With a crack in her voice, Rowan mumbled, “It hurt.”

Damia whipped Rowan around to face her, her eyes dark and hollow, “I could have made it hurt worse. Would you rather I show you what true pain feels like?”

“No,” Rowan squeaked, too cold and tired and disoriented to fight with her the way she normally would.

Contemplating her response, Damia hummed, analyzing Rowan’s body language as though she were a lab rat in the middle of an experiment.

In response, Rowan hunched her shoulders, folding in and wrapping her arms around herself in a weak attempt to cover up under Damia’s scorn.

Slowly, Damia relaxed and reached her hands out, taking hold of Rowan’s and pulling them away from her body. “Don’t hide, darling. You’re beautiful just as you are— every part of you.”

Rowan shivered. She didn’t want this from her, at least not right now. She couldn’t handle the tender side of Damia when she felt so wrecked and abandoned, her wits weren’t sharp enough to dissect Damia’s underlying motivations. But Damia wouldn’t let go of her hands, so she was forced to comply as Damia turned her back toward the mirror, staring back at a reflection that was wholly her own.

She began cataloging each of her scars, unable to keep her wandering eyes from landing on them. There were the three stark lines across her left shoulder from Damia’s fingernails, the teeth indentations over her right breast that had never gone away, the nick across the outer part of her right cheek that was thankfully smaller than the initial cut, and of course, the puncture wounds on the left side of her neck from the first night she’d met Damia. And those were just the scars she could currently see; there were plenty more decorating her lean frame down her back and beneath her pajama pants.

Eventually, Damia released her grip on Rowan’s hands, opting to run them up her long arms instead in what Rowan assumed was meant to be comforting. Then, she ran her right hand across the expanse of Rowan’s exposed back, jostling the chain connecting Rowan to a sturdy metal loop in the center of the floor.

On instinct, Rowan reached up and tugged at the collar encircling her neck, wishing for an inch or two more of space, at least, so that she could feel free to take a deep, grounding breath.

“Mm,” Damia hummed again, and, with what sounded like pity in her voice, said, “it wasn’t a decision I took likely, you know. But after the stunt you pulled last night, it felt a necessary precaution. For your safety.”

Rowan’s lip quivered, and she quickly looked down, her pride unwilling to let her completely break down in Damia’s presence.

Damia gently pressed a finger beneath Rowan’s chin, leading her gaze upward to meet her own. She clucked her tongue in disapproval, “Such a pathetic thing today. What a shame.” In a flash, Damia was at the door, “Perhaps tomorrow you’ll be more lively.” And just like that, she was gone, the heavy door shutting behind her with an impressive thud.

Rowan stared meekly around the room for a moment, then leaned down to grab her discarded shirt, wincing as her joints creaked from disuse. Without bothering to put the shirt on, she shuffled into the bathroom, the chain connected to her neck dragging quietly behind her and scraping against the cold stone floor, the length of it enough for her to reach even the furthest corners of the ensuite. As she turned the knob for hot water in the shower and steam rose up around her, the word pathetic rang through her mind on merciless repeat.

@whumpcember @sgt-seabass @emmettnet <3

#whumpcember2022 #whumpcember2022 day7 #scars #collars #imprisonment #wound descriptions #implied abuse #manipulation #vampires #gratuitous descriptions #rowan hartley #damia #ocs #whump #hurt/comfort #maddie writes

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