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styxwanderer · 20 days

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The Wrong Fake Identity | Twisted Wonderland [pt.2]

part 1 <part 2> Part 3 Part4 part 5 part 6

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙˚*

The lot of you decided to eat around the garden instead, all of them exhausted from all the running, not you of course, you are safe and secure in Jack’s beefy arms and the cushion of his abs. Although the mental panic and bashing of yours had left you sleepy and mentally drained.

“I thought they are going to give a chase! I have never ran so fast in my entire life!” The orange head said sprawled in the grass.

“I second that! Vil is definitely going to kill me!” The purple haired boy said, sprawled as well near your feet.

“Worse, riddle is definitely going to collar us like a dog and make us sleep in the flamingo cage! Erkk! The thought of it makes me shiver!” Deuce followed.

“If— if me, the great grim have to run like that again, i think i will just give up!!”

“Leona is going to make me run laps….” Jack more composed, still holding you in his lap.

“All of us could take sanctuary in ignihyde dormitory you know! I’m sure brother will take us in happily.”

“You! I can see through your pla—“Grim shouted

“I… i…”

“I .. i can’t believe it … i betrayed waka-sama,

I BETRAYEDD WAKA-SAMAAA ARGHHH… how could i even repay this!! I have betrayed him! I am the unworthiest pawn in existence, ARGHHH…. What is wrong with mee. I beg for your forgiveness!!!! Kuuuuhuuu… please forgive this stupid lowly crocodileeee~.”

Sebek is curled up, hand gripping his hair tightly, crying his heart out and start to degrade himself.

“D-damn… not so loud!” Grim grumbled

“Hey.. uhm.. don’t cry.” deuce unsure how to console the green hair guy, sitting up.

“Uwah.. he turns out to be quite a crybaby..”

You slide out of jack’s lap and hold, much to his disappointment, and crouched down in front of Sebek.

Sebek looked up at you, cheek wet from his teary eyes and mouth quivering.

“Whaat…?” He whimpered lowly.

Your plan to smack his head to the ground for being loud and hurting your newly enhanced ears, vanished as your eyes dilate into a full round. Then your self control broke.

“WHA—WHAAAA.”

Followed by a numerous “AAAA!!!!”

The lot of them froze from shock at your uncharacteristic behavior.

You had licked his wet cheek and the tears that is falling in his face. In a moment the red wet face of his had become a raging red as he hold the part where you licked him.

“HUMANN! WHA—-…..are you trying to console me?”

You had your ears covered when he shout, bow that he is talking. Your sleepy brain went on over-drive and went full cat. You went to nuzzle your head to the crook of the aligator’s neck.

Blushing even more Sebek then hug your waist as he scoop you to his lap. “OH HOW KINDDD! ill accept this with the greatest honor!”

The sun shining on you had made you even sleepier, so you don’t mind getting a cuddle from the aligator man. Plus his toned abs and muscle had made a great cushion for you to sleep on.

“HEY!! THATS NO FAIRRR!!!” Epel now snapped out of his trance stood up and point at the both of you.

“ you cheating scoundrel! I also want to hold themm!!” He continued.

“Yes not fair at all!!! Why does the one doing a half assed job get it all?” Ortho followed

“Yeahh! Why do you have to be the one holding them..” deuce asked.

“We also deserved a rewards for saving her you knoww!” Ace said

“It should’ve been me the great Grim that they hold and pamper not you guys, i am the original so shooo! Find someone else!”

“C’mon guys.. we can take turn.” Truth be said, Jack is disappointed that it is not him that you fall asleep on, but he is trying hard to save his dignity and so he chose to act mature as begrudgingly that is.

You had gone far from reality and off to the dream world.

The lot of them decide to spend rest of the lunch break eating their food while also passing you around.

“Heyy.. heyy .. y/n.. its time for class.”

“Hnn.. what time is it?”

You had woken up in deuce lap. Enjoying the plush of his thighs as pillow. You slowly wake up. Then your instinct told you to lick him and so you did.

“AA.. AA.. what ..”

“Oh sorry.. i didn’t realized what im doing” you yawn.

“No no its alright!! you could do more if you want.” He mumbled the last part so you couldn’t quite hear it. The tip of his ears are now red.

Deuce has determined, he will never wash his face again.

Thankfully no one saw that action or the whole group is going to go for a whole banter show again.

Then it’s time to separate to different class much to epel’s, sebek’s, jack’s, and ortho’s disappointment.

“Ah.. i wish you are in my class y/n” epel said

“I double that!”

“Hehe.. too badd so sadd..”

“They belong with us.”

“Whomp whomp.”

The trio idiots jeered making epel and the rest, veins popped out in frustration.

“Just ya wait ya bastards!”

Surprisingly even jack is quite annoyed as he let out a low growl.

Ortho is planning some mischievous prank to follow the trio.

Sebek is hiding his jealousy although it is very apparent on his face how annoyed it is.

Adeuce and grim are sneering at them like they had win something.

Sulking the rest of them go to their respective classes.

▼△▼△▼△▼△▼

Finally the last class has rolled. Adeuce and grim not reallg excited to have to share you with the other four, and the other four anticipating your presence. You better prepare to say goodbye to your privacy time.

“Oh we dont have enough mushroom for this potion. We need to get more of it.” groaned grim your lab partner.

“Ooo..! Dont worry ill take it!”

“Really?!! Thanks a lot y/n”

“No problem!” You hopped off your seat and begun to make an exit.

Into the glasshouse you go.

▼△▼△▼△▼△▼

“This campus is too big im getting tiredddd..”

You groaned as you open the glasshouse. You begun to make your way to the garden-shed.

A hand suddenly grip your ankle making to fall.. into a soft cushion?

Your hissing starts to quiet down as you slowly processing who just grab you.

Before you know it you are hold captive in the embrace of the great lazy lion.

“Ohh.. look who is here, herbivore.”

“Leona, you scared me.”

He chuckled in response.

“Please let me go now.” You try to wiggle out.

“Why would i do that.”

“I need to go back to class before professor crewel kills me.”

“Hahaha, don’t worry you are safe within my arm.”

“But—“

Before u could continue your word Leona had rubbed the spot just behind your ears shutting you up.

All of that human instinct thrown out the window.

Revert bacc to cats

You nudge your head toward his hand as you purr.

“You like that don’t you.” he chuckled.

He removed his hand away from that spot, craving for more you nudge your head to the crook of his neck.

“What should i do with you. Demanding a royalty to scratch your ears tsk tsk..”

“You better stick around with me you hear, after all who can protect you better if not me.”

He lazily said

Leona’s sleepiness begun to affect you as you begun to feel comfortable in his hold. You decide the lion hair is messy you give it a lick.

“…”

“Ohhhh… sorry... i dont know why i did that…” you snapped

Leona held the back of your head and place your head to his chest.

“Moving on too quickly on the relationship, are we? What an impatient and impudent herbivore of mine. I should teach you properly. but for now, let’s sleep”

Yawning He placed his arms and legs caged you and his tail intertwining with your new ones. He doubted anybody would disturb the sleeping lion, but this is you he is talking about. Everybody would do anything for you. Not taking any risk he draped over a tarp to cover the both of you, learning from experience that they are a good disguise material.

After all, the hunting game would start at the end of class, it will be an easy win for him, plus nobody could blame him or call him cheating, since technically you fall down to his arm and got caged. And on the extra side he wanted to see malleus dread angry face as he saw the both of you with burning jealousy.

▼△▼△▼△▼△▼

Meanwhile in class,

“Hey grim where is y/n?” Ace approach the doodling werebeast.

“Oh they went to get more mushroom for the project. “

“Since when?” Deuce continued

“Around.. an hour ago..?”

“GRIMM!!!” The both of them exclaimed

“Whatt.. i got distracted!!”

“The class is almost over noww!”

“And they are still not here!!”

“Ehem.. little pups, why are you making a fuzz over here?”

“Eeek!!!!” Trio idiots turn around finding crewel with the whipping.

“One.. two.. three…, where is the other pup, or should i say kitten now?”

“Uhmm you see proff, we ran out of mushroom.” Grim swallowed his saliva

“So they left to get some..” ace half mumbled.

A large heavy sigh escaped his mouth as he hold firm of his whipping stick.

“And they haven’t returned yet is that it?” The man tone getting lower.

“Eeek!! YES SIRE!” The three of them shrieked.

“what am i to do with you, tch i know i should’ve prioritize that adoption paper sooner.” he whispered half of the part.

“Well you better find them sooner— “

The bell has rung and in the same exact time the door flung open to reveal Epel, Jack, Ortho, and Sebek.

“WHERE IS Y/N ?!!” Jack barged

“Geez you can’t wait can you.” Ace groaned.

“This is importantt!!” Ortho interjects

“It’s not thatt!! Its just—.” Epel word was cut off.

“THESE PUNY HUMANS ARE MAKING A HUNTING GAME OUT OF THEM!!” Sebek shouted.

That is it, that is the breaking point for crewel. Fuck that bird brain crow, he is going to shave him bald. And for his naughty puppy, well lets just say disciplines awaits.

“Is that so.” Slapping his whip to his hand creating a loud sound.

“Oh goddd look he is emitting black aura! “ Ace shooks

“We are in trouble!!” Grim stammered.

There is a collective gulp throughout the classroom.

“Well then what are you doing? FIND THEM!”

“Yes, sire, yes!” The lot of them immediately jumped out of the door to find you.

Soon news that you had gone missing spread throughout NRC.

Meanwhile in Heartslabyul,

“Where could they be? I hope those insolent fools haven’t broken any rules and trapped you!”Riddle hoped before he gave orders to his soldiers ,including ace and deuce, to find you.

Riddle had thought that it is better for you in the care of heartslabyul since both he and trey have experience dealing with a cat beastman, hecc they can even invite Che’nya to help you adjust into your life as a new cat beastman, he just hoped che’nya won’t teach you anything wierd or questionable.

Meanwhile in Octanaville,

“ oh my what a turn of event! My angel-cat fish is missing, i shall be the one to find her first. Jade, Floyd, our perfect plan can wait, for now its time to search them.”

“Yes Azul.”

“Yes Azul~”

Meanwhile in Scarabia,

“Eh?!! They are missing?!! I hope they just got lost in the campus! Oh how scared must they be if they’re under the hands of one of the students.”

“Not now Kalim, we need to focus on finding them.”

Meanwhile in Pomefiore,

“Rook, did you manage to target the spell onto them?”

“ Non, I’m embarrassed to say but since they were covered by jacket belonging to jack howl I am unable to track them down.”

“Tch. where can they be… Rook change of strategy, it’s time for a different kind of hunt.

“Oui, Roi du Poisson, let your wisdom guide us through.

Vil shudders on the thought that any other dorm leader had gotten his hand on you, and most certainly he hoped it is not Leona. What a lazy lion could do to affect your beauty potential, keeps him up at night.

Meanwhile in Ignihyde,

“ what ortho, y/n is missing, and just before the hunt. My luck could never be better.” Idia moaned.

“I’m sorry brother.” The robotic voice of ortho can be heard through his tablet.

“Thats alright, you’ve done well. Now if you could scan all the campus and i will access all camera.”

“It will take about 30 min with the school slow internet.”

“Its good enough. Now leave it to you brother. Its going to be an eazy Peezy catch. LAWL.”

“Heheheh, of course brother!”

Meanwhile in Diasomnia,

Once the news had reached the ears of Malleus Draconia, a loud thunder light had blasted through.

“ calm down Malleus, it’s not like the hunt is over yet.” He chuckled.

“ you’re right lilia. I need to make haste to find them. Silver, come with me lets us play this game of hunt.”

“Yes, Malleus.” Silver anticipatingly answered.

“Khufufufufu, they can hide all they want but it will be an easy game for us”

Meanwhile in Savannaclaw,

“Ohhh? Y/n is missing? Shishishi…Leona might’ve captured his prey on record time afterall. Oh well, less work for me and I get the spoil too, Yeahh! Lucky!” Ruggie chuckled as he can’t seem to find Leona as well.

[words 2318]

>> to be continued<<

.·:*¨༺ ❈ ༻¨*:·.

taglist: @agaygothicmushroom @feverish-dove

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ckret2 · 6 months

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Chapter 29 of human Bill Cipher will find a way out of being the Pines' prisoner or so help him, featuring:

Summerween!!!!

and also:

Henchmaniacs.

Kryptos doesn't actually talk like that, it's just how he's currently feeling.

####

January 1, 1982

"You're late," Bill said, a bit reproachfully.

Ford gave him a surprised look. "Did we have an appointment?" He didn't remember one. He was pretty sure he'd remember an appointment with his muse, even if he'd made it in a dream.

"Pfff, appointments are for people without an eternity of time! No, I'm just used to you dreaming by midnight. It's weird for you to stay up past two when you aren't working on a project."

"I suppose it is." Ford was flattered Bill was paying close enough attention to notice his sleep habits. "I thought I'd stay up late to bring in the new year."

"The what?"

"The... new year?" What wasn't registering. How do you explain New Year's to an alien/angelic messenger? "It's when—"

"Oh, oh right." Bill waved off the rest of Ford's explanation. Several calendars and clocks spiraled in the air like a Ferris wheel in front of Bill, "Between trying to figure out whether you meant it was 0 Pop or Tishrei 1, I completely forgot about Chaos 1. You guys have too many calendars!"

And he'd skipped over January entirely. Wryly, Ford said, "The next time somebody asks for my input, I'll let them know you want us to use a few less."

Bill laughed. "Smart aleck." The calendars and clocks vanished. "And all you did to celebrate was stay up a little later than usual? No parties? Okay, I know you don't know anyone throwing a party—but you didn't even celebrate at a bar?" Bill ruffled his hair. "All work and no play makes Ford a dull boy!"

Ford endured the ruffling. He wasn't quite sure whether Bill was scolding him for staying up celebrating, or for not celebrating enough. "I... suppose I could celebrate in here?"

"What do you want, a fireworks show?" In the distance in Ford's mindscape, a single large firework exploded. It shifted colors, purple to yellow to green to red, before fading. "I don't think so! If you wanted fireworks, you should've gone to the show on the lake. I've got some prophecies to pass on, and I'd rather get to them this REM cycle."

By "prophecies" he probably meant a random assortment of warnings about Ford's upcoming week, which historically had varied in severity from "don't visit the lake Tuesday evening or you'll get caught in a snowstorm and die of hypothermia" to "you'd better get groceries in the morning before they sell out of your toothpaste brand." And Ford was always grateful for such messages—but now he wished he could see what sort of fantastical color-changing dream fireworks show his muse could put on. "I take it it's not a new year on your calendar."

"I don't keep track of that stuff. When you're as ancient as me, celebrating the new year is like celebrating a new hour."

Bill had so easily brushed off the implicit invitation to discuss "his" calendar. Ford wasn't surprised. Over the years of sporadic meetings with his muse, Ford had noted that Bill never shared information about where he'd come from or how he filled his time when he wasn't bestowing his wisdom—as if Bill was a thing that simply is, a muse that offered inspiration because it was made to inspire, with no history or identity outside of its role in service to humanity. He always dodged the questions gracefully.

But he never seemed bothered that Ford had asked. In fact, as long as Ford didn't pry into Bill's history and kept his inquiries comfortably shallow, Bill always seemed happy to receive personal questions. Ford had found that even when Bill talked like he was in a hurry, it was very easy to get him off track (and consequently extend his visit to two or three more dreams) by asking him about himself.

Ford wondered why that was. Was it a part of his duty—was he compelled to answer his chosen students' questions, to enlighten them on the mysteries of the universe, to help tug back the curtain of reality to reveal wonders unknown—wonders that included Bill himself? Or perhaps Bill was used to students seeing him as a source of knowledge without seeing him. Perhaps he was grateful that somebody was interested in him enough to ask.

Whatever the case—Bill clearly liked being asked about himself, and Ford liked getting his muse to stick around a little longer than planned. So rather than letting Bill get on to the prophecies he'd promised, Ford asked, "Do you ever... participate in any human holidays? After all, you've offered so much to humanity. I'm sure any of your prior protégés would have been honored to invite you as a guest to our celebrations. I would be honored." And Ford wouldn't mind having friendly company on the holidays that he'd gotten in the habit of ignoring until they shrank to nothing but a square on a calendar.

"Ha, I know you would! But no, not really," Bill said. "Don't get me wrong, it's not that I look down on your cute little local festivals. They just don't have any relevance to me! A celebration of a bountiful harvest, a prayer to get through the winter, the veneration of a local long-dead celebrity... I come from a timeless realm of divinity, sublimity, color and light! Most of your planet's holidays are about issues that don't matter to me."

"Ah. I see," Ford said. "Are there any human holidays you care about?"

Bill mulled over the question. "Maybe one or two."

####

June 22, 2013

Bill thundered down the stairs, charged into the kitchen, and announced to the Pines, "If I don't get to wear a Summerween costume I will literally die."

Without looking up from the morning paper, Ford said, "Then die."

####

It took ten minutes for Bill to bargain Ford up from "death" to permission to wear a costume—provided that it was free; that Bill agree to stay inside for the holiday without complaint (WITHOUT COMPLAINT) no matter what fun activities he heard happening outside; that Ford didn't have to do anything to help Bill obtain said costume; and that Bill take a dang shower.

Bill groaned. "Another shower already?"

"You wouldn't need so many if you didn't insist on running around in an acrylic sweater and polyester leggings in summer."

Bill knew that. That was one of the reasons he did it. It was useful for the humans to think the showers were their idea.

Bill agreed to all terms, and even volunteered to get the dang shower over with now so they could both get on with the rest of their days.

He'd never admit it, but Bill had been wanting a shower. Not for the hygiene, but for the privacy. This was the first time he'd had a door between himself and the Pines since he'd broken the shack's unicorn hair barrier.

Time to call in reinforcements.

Bill covered the mirrors, turned on the shower, undressed, stuck his head under the shower stream so that if anyone barged in on him he could use his wet hair as proof he'd been showering, and squinted through the wooden door to confirm there weren't any humans lurking nearby. Coast was clear—but wow, it hurt to bend his eye that way. He rubbed at it irritably as he set up his ring of candles again, and wasn't surprised when his fingertips came away bloody. He thought it hurt more than it had last time. He wondered how many more times he could glance into higher dimensions before this body's eyeballs gave out on him. Hopefully he wouldn't need them that long.

He drew Kryptos on the floor, lit the candles, and started muttering the chant to summon him. "Rhombus sapphirinus. Fraternitas, caritas..."

The steamy air went chill, the water pattering in the tub grew muffled, the whole world slowed and paused. For weeks, Bill's every attempt to break into the mindscape had been a futile strain; but now, instead, the mindscape surged up and swallowed him into its gray twilight, like evening embracing the land on the heels of sunlight's departure. Bill knew he wasn't awake anymore. It was working.

A force outside of Bill borrowed his throat to speak the last of the ritual—it worked!—and before his eyes, a diamond window opened into the Nightmare Realm.

####

Standing at the edge of one of the Quadrangle of Qonfusion's many perpendicular floors, arms crossed, scowling deeply, Pyronica glared at a neon-acidic cotton candy nebula light years away. "Guys," she said, "it's doing the thing again."

8 Ball, Keyhole, and Zanthar glanced away from their video game toward the nebula. Amorphous Shape peeled a few squares off a column to peer at it with Hectorgon.

"Look at this." Pyronica clapped her hands.

In the nebula, crackles of lightning-like bolts of light millions of miles long shot through the starry clouds. A noise like thunder boomed from it, rattling the Quadrangle. An ugly statue fell off a column-shaped pedestal and landed on a wall.

She clapped twice more—each time, eliciting more lightning—then gestured emphatically at the nebula. "How am I doing that!"

"Can't be you controlling it," Amorphous Shape said. "That nebula's over a dozen light years away. That light had to have happened years ago, we're just seeing it now."

Already turned back to his video game and determinedly trying to murder Keyhole, 8 Ball said, "Maybe the nebula's controlling you."

Pryonica said flatly, "You think a bunch of stars is making me clap."

"Eh. Like astrology or something."

Hectorgon said, "Could be a time loop thing."

"Could be," Amorphous Shape said thoughtfully.

Pyronica threw up her hands, which made the distant nebula's colors shift slightly. "If it's not weird butterfly effects or faster-than-light light, it's time loops. I hate this place. All it'd take is a hard sneeze to knock the whole dimension down."

She'd been saying things to such effect for the past few months. Consequently, nobody really paid much attention to the latest round of griping about the Nightmare Realm's poor maintenance, until she said, "I'm bailing on the Quadrangle. Soon as I can find a decent rock in some other dimension. Who else is coming?"

8 Ball glanced down at Pyronica from the floor with their gaming setup. "Hold on, are you serious?" He quickly had to look away as Zanthar took advantage of the distraction to attack.

"Yeah, I'm serious. I don't wanna break up the gang, but I'm sick of this dump."

Huddled on a nearby wall like an unemployed gargoyle, Paci-Fire said solemnly, "I will stay, Mother. The Quadrangle of Qonfusion is the only home I have ever known."

"Probably one of my worst life decisions," Pyronica muttered. "The Quadrangle isn't our home, it was Bill's. We're just... just..."

Ducking in from between two columns that seemed to lead to a purple-shadowed nighttime meadow, Teeth said, "Eternal couch-surfers."

"Ha! Yeah, that. Hey, where you been the past week?"

"Took a wrong turn to the bathroom. I ended up in that pocket dimension Bill grounded the electrical wiring into."

"Again?"

"I never know how many times to cross that one infinitely looping hallway!"

Pyronica gestured at Teeth. "See, this place is a complete mess. We'd be better off moving to any other dimension. And you'd like living in a real dimension if you gave it a shot, Paci!"

"No." Paci-Fire crossed his arms. "I do not want to."

"At least think about it. Wouldn't you like to live somewhere that has moons? Instead of going on a road trip to another dimension every time you want to drive a civilization to extinction?"

Keyhole muttered, "I hate those stupid road trips. They're always a zillion light years long and we never do anything fun."

"Hey!" Pyronica pointed at Keyhole. "Watch it! My kid's a lunarcide prodigy, he gets to go on as many moon-destroying trips as he wants!"

Keyhole cringed. "Right, right, sorry." 8 Ball muttered something disparaging about Keyhole's intellect, right before blowing him up for the second time.

Paci-Fire asked, "And say we were to move to a dimension with more moons. What would we do when the authorities follow us home after another successful slaughter?" A side-effect of growing up in the Henchmaniacs was that Paci-Fire regarded The Authorities as a nebulous bogeyman that was personally out to get him and all his family and friends. "Are we to lock the door and cower from them like—like cowards? Or constantly flee from one dimension to the next? No, Mother. I do not wish to live like a pariah in the dark corners of—" his lower mouth sneered around his pacifier, "civilized dimensions. There is nowhere safer for us than the Nightmare Realm."

"Sweetie, you don't have to be afraid of the authorities in other dimensions—"

"Mother! I know no fear." Paci-Fire's eyes flared a bright, dangerous red.

Pyronica playfully tugged one of his horn. "We can find a dimension as primitive as 46'\ without any interstellar cops. Like—which dimension were you from, Teeth, it doesn't even have any organized space authorities, does it?"

"Oh, yeah, pretty much every world in my galaxy was still ground bound when Bill recruited me." Teeth stepped on a column, slid off, and shuffled around it, trying to remember which side doubled as a walkway to the kitchen. "I don't really mind staying here, though. I mean yeah, we don't have a roof, or consistent walls, and the wiring's a mess. But the rent's really reasonable for a place this size in this part of the Nightmare Realm."

Hectorgon processed that. "Hold on." He lay on a wall and slid up it until he was mouth level with Teeth. "You've been paying rent?"

Teeth paused mid-column. "Wh—yeah? What's that supposed to mean?"

Pyronica bit her lip to keep from laughing, elbowed Paci-Fire, and hissed, "I thought Bill was joking about charging Teeth rent!"

Paci-Fire murmured, "Bill Cipher was always a most droll prankster."

"Who are you paying it to?" Hectorgon asked.

"I mean—I was paying it to Bill. But I dunno who took that over, so I guess, kinda... no one?"

With a mildly offended tone, Hectorgon lied, "You were supposed to give it to me now."

"Oh." Teeth shifted awkwardly. "Uh... sorry, Hect, no one told me. I don't think I've got enough on hand to cover all the..."

"It's fine, everything's been topsy-turvy since... the last few months. Just give me what you have and pay back the rest as soon as you can, okay?"

"Sure, sure, no problem. Thanks, man."

Pyronica bit her lip to keep from laughing. "All right, so Teeth is stupid enough to stay here."

"Hey!"

"But I don't see why the rest of us should be." She looked up at the trio playing games below her, then tried to remember which stupid paradox staircase led to that level. She hesitantly headed up one that looked promising. "Moving out would be worth it just to be somewhere with consistent physics!"

"I am contented with the inconsistent physics," Paci-Fire said.

"It took you fifty years longer than most kids to learn how to walk," Pyronica said. "I know you're my little genius! It's this dimension that's holding you down!"

"Boo," Paci-Fire said sulkily.

"Paci, you don't even like the Quadrangle. Nobody does."

Amorphous Shape let out a chorus of sharp gasps. They slid around a corner and reappeared sliding from the underside of the staircase to the top, laying zigzag atop the steps to glare at Pyronica. "Excuse us."

"I'll step on you, Morph," Pyronica threatened. Amorphous Shape grudgingly slid over for her to pass. "Fine, Bill's stupid 2D groupies like the Quadrangle. But the rest of us don't."

"What's wrong with it?" Morph demanded.

"What's—?!" Pyronica gestured upward at the floor below them. "You don't see the problem with this?!"

"It's supposed to be like that. It's a shortcut."

"It's a—!" Pyronica covered her face and suppressed a scream. "It's giving me vertigo!"

"It doesn't give us vertigo," Morph said defensively. They partially peeled off the steps to look at Hectorgon. "Does it give you vertigo?"

"No, I'm fine."

"What about you, Kryptos?"

There was no answer.

"Krypt?" Morph reluctantly peeled off the stairs entirely and hovered in the air to try to get a better view.

"He probably got sucked into The Void," Keyhole muttered, "it was vibrating this morning."

8 Ball sighed. "Why do we even have that Void?"

"Man, I dunno."

Pyronica ascended to the bottom of the stairs, sat on the arm of the gamers' couch, and said, "The point is—none of us need this place. I got by fine before joining Bill, most of you guys did too, and we can get by just fine now without squatting in his weird architecture project."

She leaned behind Keyhole and 8 Ball to poke Zanthar's arm. "Big Z, you still have worshippers in your home dimension, right? Aren't you still getting offerings?"

Zanthar shrugged noncommittally.

"They've still got legends of you, you can whip them back into shape in no time. Keyhole, you've got family—"

Without looking away from the screen, where he was losing hideously, Keyhole muttered, "I'm not moving back in with my mom."

"I'm not talking about your mom, stupid, what about your sisters?"

Keyhole winced, though it was hard to tell whether it was from Pyronica's question or from getting killed for the third and final time. "I don't know... Bill and I were talking about them once, and I realized they're as bad as Mom was. Bill said probably the only reason they didn't treat me as bad is because they never got the opportunity—"

"Who cares what Bill said," Pyronica snapped. "Bill's dead! We don't have to listen to him anymore!"

"Hear hear," 8 Ball muttered; but he couldn't throw in anything else, lest Zanthar blow him up and win the match.

Pyronica said, "Face it: the only reason the rest of us didn't leave the Nightmare Realm millennia ago is because Bill couldn't leave."

Morph drifted through the kitchen—reaching around Teeth to grab a drink out of the fridge as they passed—and unfolded questioningly around a corner. "There you are."

Kryptos was in the rec room, lounging on Bill's stupid tacky optical illusion throne with the fabric of reality upholstery, staring out a window (or skylight, depending on your point of perspective). He grunted at Morph.

Morph said, "Bill's gonna be furious you're using his throne."

"Whatever. Z's already spilled time punch on the armrest." Kryptos pointed at the patch of reality on the armrest that was out of chronological synch with the rest of the throne.

"He's not gonna be furious," Pyronica said, shouting through the doorway that inexplicably connected to the rec room. "He's not gonna be anything because he's dead. He died. D-E-A-D."

"He's not." And suddenly Morph were in Pyronica's face, all of their polygons and lines and piercing slitted eyes circling her head like angry moons. Keyhole leaned toward 8 Ball to see the screen around them, and 8 Ball elbowed him back over. Morph said, "He can't be. If Bill was dead, the Nightmare Realm would be falling apart even faster—"

"So let's bail while we can—"

"—but it's not," they said. "If anything, its degradation is slowing down. That would be impossible if he were dead, he's instrumental to holding the Nightmare Realm together—"

"Unless he lied about that, and he was actually making everything worse," Pyronica said.

"Bill's not a liar! We have the data to prove it, we've been measuring the degradation for billennia—"

"I'm sick of your stupid measurements! It was your 'measurements' that said 46'\ was perfect to take over! Was that stupid barrier part of your measurements?!"

"That barrier was extremely localized, there's no way we could have detected—"

"The portal was right in the middle of it! How did you idiots miss it?!"

8 Ball groaned as Zanthar whittled away the last of his HP. Zanthar let out a gentle hum like the sound of an apocalyptic vacuum cleaner as the game declared him the winner.

8 Ball tossed his controller at the TV. The TV squealed in fear. "If Bill is alive, that's just another reason to get out of the Nightmare Realm! Leave before he gets back! He can play king in this dump by himself."

Paci-Fire said, "Surely, you do not mean that. Were Bill still around..."

"No! No, I do mean it! The only reason we've stayed so long is because everyone's too starstruck or too scared to ditch him! Not anymore! If his flat-brained cultists wanna wait for him, fine! But why do we all gotta stay?"

"Hey!" Hectorgon rushed in from the kitchen to snarl at 8 Ball. "Who're you calling flat, cue tip—?"

Kryptos tuned out the argument downstairs/next door as 8 Ball and Hectorgon started brawling. Who were they kidding? Nobody was leaving. Maybe 8 Ball, he'd tried to split four or five times before crawling back, but Kryptos didn't care about him anyway. Bill had always been right about him: he was too selfish to care about the rest of the gang but too stupid to make it on his own. They'd taken in losers like that before and it had never been a big loss when they left. But no one else would leave. Where would they go?

Where could they go?

Kryptos didn't care about the outerplanar Henchmaniacs' reasons for joining Bill; but the shapes were here because Bill had promised to make them a new home. He was the only one in all of reality who could do it. Kryptos was as desperate to hear from Bill as Morph and Hect were. They'd held fast to Bill's promise for a trillion years—so how could they let go of whatever thin thread of that hope remained? Who would they be if they lost it?

But in his heart, Kryptos didn't really believe Bill was out there. He'd been gone too long. And Kryptos couldn't imagine anything less catastrophic than Bill's destruction could have reversed Weirdmageddon.

Yet he was still here, and still waiting, because he didn't know what else to do. He'd stay in the Quadrangle until the whole realm finally fell apart, just in case Bill casually floated back in one day. He'd do anything they could think of to find him and bring him back.

And then Kryptos got a call from Earth.

He sighed heavily.

Calls from Earth weren't unusual. Perks of having helped found the Fishmasons: Kryptos was occasionally summoned by the Fishermen high-ranked enough to be told their organization really did know an interdimensional alien who was their de facto secret leader and presided over their most important rituals. Assuming "de facto secret leader" meant "living equivalent of a beloved sports team mascot," and "presided over" meant "got free invitations to," and "most important rituals" meant "most fun parties." But the humans liked to pretend that their little group was a lot more important and cloak-and-dagger than the social club it really was; and all the wink-wink-nudge-nudge pretending-Kryptos-was-in-charge, while silly, was also kind of flattering. You didn't get many chances to be the star of the show when you lived around a supernova like Bill.

So, Kryptos got calls from Earth from time to time—at least a handful a year—typically from a middle-aged man in a business suit trying to pretend he wasn't giddy about being the guy who'd gotten permission to pull out the candles and contact The Alien.

Kryptos was not in the mood to talk to humans. Humans were why they were in this mess. Humanity could go jump in a lake.

But it wasn't every human's fault that a handful had somehow taken out Bill. And maybe they were calling for a party. Maybe it would cheer him up.

So he sighed again, half heartedly shouted, "Guys—guys, shut up a second, I'm getting a call," and opened up a window to Earth.

His vision was filled with a brown-skinned golden-haired haunted-eyed human who, at the sight of Kryptos, gave him a relieved, face-splitting smile. "H—"

Kryptos hung up.

To reiterate: he took calls from middle-aged men in business suits. That was a naked woman crouched on the floor like an animal.

"Who was it?" Hectorgon asked.

"No one. Some woo-woo witchy type who probably dug up a leaked Fishmason ritual online."

Hectorgon laughed. "I bet it thought it could ask a 'demon' for lottery numbers."

"Sorry, sister, but that's Bill's schtick," Kryptos said. "My number is unlisted for a reason."

Kryptos wondered about Bill's human pals. Well—"pals" was a bit of a stretch—devotees and students. How often did he get calls? And now they couldn't reach him.

Stinks for them. Must be awful, reaching out to someone in another dimension for help and getting nothing back.

####

An ethereal, sourceless voice whispered in Bill's ear, "The all-knowing dream demon you're trying to reach is currently unavailable for visions and prophecies. If this is an emergency, wake up and call your nearest Masonic lodge. Otherwise, please leave your prayers or petitions after the beep." Beep.

Bill stared, jaw dropped, at the empty patch of air where Kryptos had been projecting just a moment ago. After several seconds of mute outrage, Bill said, "Kr... Kryptos. You... I swear, if you don't get back here this SECOND—"

The sheer force of his anger woke him up. His eyes fluttered open to the world of color and humidity and pattering water. He grabbed every towel he could reach, wadded them up, and screamed into them. "KRYPTOS YOU SON OF A— I KNOW YOU NEVER CHECK YOUR VOICEMAIL! AND WERE YOU ON MY THRONE, WERE YOU SITTING ON MY SPECIAL THRONE—!"

He shrieked until his lungs were empty.

####

At sixty minutes exactly, Ford knocked and opened the bathroom door. Bill stood scowling behind it.

Dryly, Ford asked, "Have a pleasant shower?"

Wet hair hanging in tangles, face flushed red, eyes even redder, Bill snapped, "Yeah. Refreshing."

####

"Mabel?"

Mabel glanced down from the stepladder at Bill, then pointedly looked away and continued taping Summerween decorations to the hallway wallpaper. "What."

"Mabel," Bill tried again, a touch more pleading. "O great Shooting Star. My hero. My one and only friend in this hostile universe. Last person who hasn't utterly forsaken me." He leaned on the wall, the back of his hand pressed to his forehead. "The sole illumination in the dark night of my accursed postmortem existence—"

Mabel grudgingly looked at Bill again. "What do you want?"

"Listen: I know I upset you at the mall, and I still need to make it up to you—I do, I do, I just haven't had a chance yet—and you're still a little mad at me, okay—buuut... can you help me make a costume." He pressed his hands together. "Please. I'll owe you one. I'll be in your debt. Just let me dress up for Summerween."

Mabel frowned at him. She frowned a little more. She said, frowning, "You're so lucky I love costumes."

####

(Next week: Summerween part 2!! Thanks for reading, if you enjoyed I'd love to hear from y'all what you think! I've been waiting to get to the Henchmaniacs for a long time. Mainly in the hopes y'all will yell at me for putting Bill through heck again.)

#human bill cipher #bill cipher #kryptos #henchmaniacs #gravity falls #gravity falls fanart #gravity falls fic #my writing #my art #fanart #bill goldilocks cipher

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tourettesdog · 1 year

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DPxDC Prompt where Jazz has known grief for a while now. The soulmark on her left arm has been faded and blackened for over a year. She’s had time to mourn, but nothing can scrub the reminder from Jazz’s arm or erase the choking memory of air escaping her lungs when it faded.

She never even got to meet them.

When Danny dies in the portal, Jazz thinks she might just be destined to a life of loss. Danny is still here, he’s still alive in some way, but Jazz can’t help but wonder what Danny’s own soulmate has gone through. Her brother’s soulmark is still there too, but it’s sickly green and scarred over by the fern-like patterns of his deathscar. She can only imagine a mark to match her own on his soulmate.

Danny hopes his soulmate will move on. Jazz tries not to think about it and she does her best not to press the issue, letting him grieve in his own way.

Fate is a strange thing, however, and their world is turned on its head when Jazz’s soulmark begins to blaze the same, sickly green as Danny’s.

Jazz becomes obsessed with finding out how, while Danny dares to wonder if he gave up too soon.

Tim hasn’t had a good night’s rest since his soulmark bled green. He’s done research, exhausted every outlet he has, but he can find no history of a mark like his.

He can only assume his soulmate is dead. Survival does not coexist with the excruciating pain he felt coursing through his veins, so much so that he thought he would die alongside them. The mark taunts him more than anything.

Though when Jason Todd resurfaces, clawing his way back into Gotham in the same way he clawed himself from the grave, Tim’s eyes are drawn to the sickly green mark on his forearm.

[I kind of went buckwild with this idea and wrote several different branching ideas attached to it, so they go under the readmore.]

Mental image of Jason just being in one hell of a funk, and Tim awkwardly approaching him like "Look, I know we have our issues but there was a day I felt like my entire body was on fire and being torn to pieces. My mark's been this sickly green since... I'm pretty sure they're gone. Like I don't know how they wouldn't be, even though it's still there-- in a way. So like, I get it."

I imagine something going wrong in Amity-- bad reveal-- and Jazz and Danny have to upend their lives over it. Jazz was trying to find out what her returned soulmark might mean within the ghost zone, following whatever information she could-- but now they have to leave everything behind and it feels like grieving again.

Danny's still trying not to get his hopes up that his partner's mark would have returned just cause Jazz's has. But he's frustrated, and now feels guilty that his slipup led to them having to leave their home.

Jazz keeps telling Danny it's not his fault, that they mightve never found anything out anyway, but it still eats at him.

They move to Gotham cause it's got enough ambient ectoplasm to help Danny.

But then Danny notices something ghostly about Red Hood and starts getting close to him. He doesnt bring up ghost's right away, but tries to slowly broach the topic. Eventually Red Hood shows Danny his odd soulmark and Danny just about passes out from the adrenaline rush of seeing Jazz's mark in that familiar sickly green.

Danny doesn't know how to approach the situation without compromising either of their identities.

He even shows Jason his own mark. Jason can't quite make it out with the deathscar through it. It kinda looks like the crow Tim has, but it could also be any kind of bird and Tim usually hides his. Birds are common-- he should know.

Seeing as Phantom's called himself a ghost, and it might not even be the same mark, Jason doesn't think it's a good idea to tell Tim and give him some false hope. (Though the coincidence of another strange green mark has his mind lingering on it). Phantom's said it himself that he's been dead for awhile and he's sure his soulmate has moved on.

But Danny can't stop looking for a man with Red Hood's build and Jazz's mark.

And the more Jason hangs around Phantom and gets hints that they're very alike (and that Phantom is more alive than he lets on), he starts trying to figure out how he can get another glance at Tim's (usually-covered) soulmark to see if they're as similar as he thinks. (For shenanigans too, maybe Jason doesn't even know that Tim's mark is green now; maybe he's only ever seen a photo of it from before he started covering it).

Bonus points if Jazz somehow becomes friends with Tim Jazz being like "Oh hey my friend Tim invited us over for dinner, wanna come?"

For one hell of a chaotic, maximum fuckery reveal:

Everyone's in long sleeves/jackets for one reason or another (temperature or comfort) at dinner Danny feels Jason's ghostly bullshit right away though and will not stop Staring at him. Jason can't feel it back since his senses aren't as strong and Danny's much more muted while he's human. Danny's trying to subtly spill shit on Jason or in some other way try to see his mark. It backfires on Danny and his mark gets shown instead Cue Tim freaking out and Danny, in his infinite wisdom, blurting out about Jason's mark

Then when they all realize they just accidentally all had their identities outed, AND now have to discuss the reality of two of them being halfdead/having died

- Alternative identity shenanigans:

Tim and Jazz being friends and he sees sees her mark and just gets thrown through the emotional ringer. But he doesn't think he can come out and tell Jazz about Jason because her finding out he died and somehow came back could have some serious ramifications and risk their identities.

But he also thinks Jason deserves some happiness and Jazz is a great person who Jason would get along with easily.

And Tim just can't stop thinking of his own mark now, for the first time in a long time. It just consumes his thoughts, and he eventually decides to introduce Jason to Jazz.

But Danny tags along and he and Jason immediately recognize each other's ghostly bullshit and Tim's plan of slowly introducing the two gets immediately sidelined

Tim shows Jazz his own mark, trying to gauge what her reaction will be if he lets her know they have the same situation going on with their marks-- only for Jazz to just like almost wrench his arm out of his socket to get a better look at it because she'd never forget Danny's mark, nevermind the color.

- Another scenario (cause I wasn't lying when I said I went Buckwild):

Danny tries to lay low in Gotham, but his obsession eventually has him sticking his neck out.

The bats are suspicious of Phantom and want answers. Jason is out of the loop a bit and independently starts befriending Phantom after Danny catches whiff of his ectoplasm

The bats eventually catch Danny with some acquired Fenton tech. The tech is more harmful than the bats expected and in his mad scramble to escape Danny's sleeve gets torn and Tim gets a glimpse of a familiar mark in that mess of green lichtenbergs. It's a sight that haunts him, marred by ectoplasm dripping from Phantom's wide-eyed face and down his shoulder.

Tim keeps trying to find Phantom to talk to him and apologize but he's gone off radar.

Jason's heard about what happened but keeps quiet about what he knows when Phantom still comes to him to talk. He can tell Phantom is more hesitant to be around him, but is glad he's still willing to meet him.

But Jason does want to actually see the soulmark for himself. So he starts talking about his own and they show each other theirs

And while Danny likes being friends with Red Hood, he is aware he has connections to the bats and that getting too close to him could put him in danger. But he sees Jazz's mark on him and feels physically ill because how can he deny telling Jazz about it just because he's afraid?

And Jason could tell Phantom about Tim's mark, but how can he tell him after what happened between the bats and Phantom, and when it would compromise their identities?

Jazz, throughout all of this, has been stressed out worrying about how to keep her little brother safe and make sure the bats never hurt him again, while she keeps unknowingly befriending the bats, starting with her coworker Babs.

Nevermind Tim just thinking his soulmate is a full on ghost in this situation.

#dpxdc #dpxdc prompts #dpxdc crossover #dogprompts #soulmates #as always feel free to pick for parts you like and don't like if you use the prompt #especially with the branching options

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pinkeos · 26 days

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The Tides Beckon || Freminet x Merman!Reader (Pt. 1)

Warning/s: Mentions of blood, Fremi almost died, not much dialogue, author's first language ain't english

Notes: WAKE UP BABE ITS MERMAY -my brain last night so i decided to write this one with my favorite fontaine boy. also there's more to this story so i'll write more ehe

Whenever the world grew louder alongside his thoughts, Freminet would often seek refuge in the ocean. While others feared the unknown depths of the waters, the diver knew the nation’s hydrology like the back of his hand. The deep waters and the creatures within became his sanctuary for when everything was just too much.

This didn't come naturally, however. Because there was a time where he, too, grew anxious of what could happen whenever he dived deeper than the last. This was when the beings above hadn't bestowed him a vision yet, when he had to rely on his trusty helmet to dive. Who knew what could happen, his diving suit could malfunction while he was swimming and it would be too late to ascend by the time he noticed it.

There was a specific moment, at night, when he scampered into the waters, drowned in his thoughts and wanting nothing more than to surround himself with the waves that pushed his worries away for even just a moment. It was a mistake to not check his gear beforehand, a mistake that could've easily cost him his life. He was younger then, much less experienced of a diver than he was now.

He tried to swim upwards when water began to flood into his diving helmet, however, fate had something else planned as a bunch of seaweed vines caught his ankle, preventing him from swimming any further. The boy, calm as he may always seem to be, began to panic. His hands started to tug and pull at the seaweed vines to free his foot.

It was dark out, he shouldn't have left and dived into the ocean by himself. He had sneaked away from the House, not informing anyone of his whereabouts, so the chances of someone miraculously arriving just in time to help him was zero to none.

Or that's what he thought. It was when his vision began to blur, his body growing weak as water prevented him from breathing. His body had gone limp, eyelashes drooping, his consciousness slipping slowly and surely.

It was then that a shadow began to swim closer to him. The full moon’s light beamed from the surface of the water, providing decent enough lighting to help him in his blurry vision to make out that this shadow was a person. What they were doing in the ocean in the middle of the night, he didn't know. But they were there to save him.

He couldn't remember clearly nor did his vision help when it came to reveal his savior’s identity. What he was quite sure of was their long hair swaying prettily in the water, their tail moving as they swam— wait, tail? Before he could comprehend what he had managed to see, he blacked out.

Those memories would forever haunt Freminet’s mind. Even in the present, where he sat on a large boulder by the shore, Pers in his hands as he watched the waves roll in and the white seafoam appear and disappear. After that fateful night, he began to rack his brain on what happened.

Little knew of how fond Freminet was with fairy tales, and how often he would imagine this world in his mind where he had companions that would bring color and life to this imagination of his. He has books and stories stored away in his room, away from prying eyes that he would read whenever he wanted to.

That's when he came across the myths and tales of mermaids. Creatures that were half human and half fish, with ethereal beauty and a voice capable of luring many with their angelic singing. They lived in the depths of the ocean, far away from the humans, they served the hydro dragon and his many incarnations. But for some reason unclear in the books, their kin had begun to dwindle over the centuries. It wasn't clearly stated where they came from, or if they even were true, but Freminet was quite sure the person he saw that night was a mermaid.

He hadn't spoken a word to Lyney or Lynette, he was afraid they wouldn't believe him. Heck, sometimes he thought he didn't believe himself. Perhaps it was just an illusion? But then how did he survive? Who saved him?

The soft wind that blew on his cheek managed to pull the boy out of his thoughts. He sighed, hugging his legs closer to his chest as he placed his chin on his knees. The ocean was peaceful today.

At least that was until a loud splash erupted from not too far away. Usually, the salty scent of the sea breeze overwhelmed any other scent when near the shore. But it was different today.

Freminet could smell it. The familiar scent of blood. And it was so strong. The boy gulped, standing up and silently making his way off the boulder. The splash wasn't too far, possibly from the other side of the large rocks.

Trained in stealth and being naturally good at keeping quiet, he had easily managed to sneak his way to the other side, peeking over a boulder to see what was going on.

The boy suppressed a gasp, but his lips still parted in shock, eyes turning wide. A small splash sounded from when the tail came into contact with the surface of the water. A tail, similar to that of a fish, but long and connecting to an upper human body.

The scales were covered in blood, staining its color and the water with it. A groan ripped Freminet’s attention from the tail and towards the human part of the creature. If he wasn't already shocked with the tail, he was even more surprised at the sight of the pained face of a familiar member of the Marechaussee Phantom meeting his view.

It was the face of the young influential official that almost everyone in Fontaine knew of. How could they not when he worked directly with the Iudex?

Though his appearance was far from the usual, because he was a freaking mermaid right now.

Freminet did not know what to think of this. He was just thinking about this a moment ago, even thinking what he could possibly do or say if he were to meet one in real life, as slim the chances are. But that was happening now and he was absolutely speechless.

“Who’s there?” The mermaid’s sharp voice cut through the silence. He was spotted.

Seeing as he was busted, the diver decided to reveal himself, though keeping his distance.

“It’s you…”

Ending note: I haven't written in a while so I'm trying my best because I really like this story😭

#genshin impact #genshin #genshin x reader #genshin x male reader #freminet #genshin impact freminet #freminet x male reader #x male reader #genshin mermay

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animalcrossingshowdown · 5 months

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someone sent in this ask and I spent literal hours putting together this tutorial but then it wouldn't let me post it and when I went back into my inbox the ask was gone?? good thing I copy and pasted it, so here it is in its own post

I'm not sure if this will work with programs other than photoshop, but this is how I do it. I know @shinobi-bacon has a tutorial here on how they do it which is pretty different from the way I do it, so if my tutorial is confusing maybe theirs will click with you better lmao. I stole the greenscreen idea from them anyway

SO FIRST, you want your villager on a green screen background. to do this, go to harv's island and use a custom pattern to make the walls and floors bright green. If the villager you're using has green in their design, you'll have to pick a different colour that isn't in their design, but for most villagers green is fine.

if your villager has every colour on them like pietro or stiches then rip you're gonna have to do some manual editing frame by frame. try to choose a colour that doesn't touch the edges of their silhouette too much in that case because it'll make life easier for you

so once you have them in green purgatory, record them doing their emote or whatever. I just use the built-in screen record function that the switch has. press and hold this button to record the last 30 seconds that your switch displayed:

next send that video to your computer and trim off the start of the video so it starts right before a recognizable part of the animation. for this emote I cut it off right before the blink. if you have a slow computer, you'll probably want to trim the end off too so the video is only a little bit longer than one full animation loop

(you can use the video editing software of your preference, I just use quick time player Edit -> Trim)

okay time for photoshop. go File -> Import -> Video Frames to Layers

for "range to import" select "from beginning to end" (or you could skip the last step about trimming the video and select a range here, but I find it kind of finicky), and make sure "make frame animation" is checked

once imported, if it doesn't pop up on it's own, go Window -> Timeline to get your animation at the bottom

click through those frames at the bottom until you find an easily recognizable frame (I chose the first frame where her eyes are closed) and delete all the frames before it. in the layers panel, the layer from the frame you've selected should be the only one turned on. delete all the layers below it

now go through the frames to find the next identical frame. this is where the animation loops. delete that frame and all the frames after it, as well as all of their corresponding layers (note in the picture, frame 121 is selected, and it's exactly the same as the frame from the start of the animation)

hit the play button on the bottom left to double check that it loops properly

next, make sure both THE FIRST FRAME AND BOTTOM LAYER are selected, and crop and reduce the image to your desired size. you can do this step later if you want, it's just that doing it now will reduce the load on your computer and make it run a bit faster. just as long as the first frame and bottom layer are selected, you can do this at any time

SAVE HERE because if you mess up this next part it's a pain to fix, but it's easy to quit and start over if need be

now it's time for my best friend the actions panel !! say hi actions panel !! (Window -> Actions). what the actions panel does is record your steps so you can quickly automate repetitive tasks.

in the actions panel, click the folder and name it whatever you want

then click the little plus and name that whatever you want and hit record. You'll see the dot turn red to indicate that your actions are now being recorded

now with the BOTTOM LAYER AND FIRST FRAME selected (ignore that I have the wrong layer selected in the pictures, I fixed it after), go to Select -> Colour Range

click on a part of the canvas that would be green

shift+click on the rest of the green background and adjust the fuzziness until just the character's silhouette remains

hit OK, now the background should be selected. go Select -> Inverse so that the character is selected, and click on layer mask.

click the next frame button (you MUST click the button, not the actual frame. you need the recording to recognize "go to next frame" and not "select frame 2"),

then keyboard shortcut option + ] to select the next layer up (again, you MUST use the shortcut so it knows to move up one layer and not just "select layer 2"),

and then stop recording.

now just repeatedly click the play button and it will do all those steps we just did for each frame :)

this part is usually where it gets messed up for me. if it did something weird like duplicate the same frame or layer your animation over a static frame, just quit and reopen that save I told you to make earlier. the action recording you just made will still be there when you reopen photoshop, so just select the first frame and bottom layer and repeatedly hit play again. if it STILL doesn't work, you probably did something wrong

the recording is now saved in photoshop forever until you delete it, so you can reuse the recording for other gifs! but if they use a different colour background, you'll need to make a new recording (you can see I have separate ones for blue and purple screens). also if you were working with one of those colourful villagers and parts got masked out that shouldn't have been, you'll have to go frame by frame and manually fix them. that's why we masked out the background instead of deleting it.

now it's time to make it into a gif! go File -> Export -> Save for Web. make sure Matte is set to "none" so you don't get those weird white flecks. colours and dither you want as high as they can go, but you can lower them if you need to make the file smaller (though I'd recommend resizing the image smaller first). the bottom left shows your file size. currently as of January 2024, tumblr allows gifs of up to 10MB

and there ya go! gif! :)

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resident-gay-bitch · 6 months

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sirius being dramatic when finding out about jegulus + very side wolfstar and rosekiller

Sirius strode into the apartment without warning, tossed his keys onto the table with a loud clunk, and took a dramatic bow with a wolffish grin.

“So, what do you think?”

“Of what?” Regulus asked, deadpanning him, “Your dramatic entrance? You’re not a vampire, Sirius- also I told you that key was for emergencies only.”

“This is an emergency.” Sirius glared at him, straightening up, “I need compliments.”

“Oh, how out of character for you.” Regulus said sarcastically, stirring his tea with his spoon at the table.

Sirius flipped him off.

“Please, tell me your thoughts.” Sirius grinned, showing off his new look and flourishing his hair, “Honest opinions only, unless they’re mean. If they’re mean, just tell me I’m pretty instead.”

“You’re pretty.” Dorcas smirked, and Sirius flipped her off.

Sirius had gone on an impulsive whim this morning after a quiet breakfast with Remus had revealed he quite likes the edgy punk look. And whilst Sirius is well aware how much Remus adores his long hair and pretty rebel boy demeanour, mixining it up for a few months could only mean a bit of fun.

Besides, if the way Remus’ brain seemed to short circuit that time Sirius came home with a septum and a nose piercing meant anything, Sirius is sure the other man would absolutely melt now.

He’d gotten himself an eyebrow and lip piercing today, as well as an extra three in his ear. It was a painful feat, and Sirius will not admit that he cried and had to be given a lollipop like a child, but he did it.

He also cut his hair short, just below the base of his skull, short wavy locks that no longer frame his face like they once did. And underneath, he’s died it electric blue.

He chopped one of his old metal band tees through the middle for a rough crop, and put Remus’ too big black ripped jeans on, letting them sit low on the waist with a studded belt to keep from pantsing himself. He’s never really been one for having his briefs stuck up out of his pants, but he happens to be wearing dark blue ones today, and they match.

“I think you look lovely, Sirius.” Pandora smiled over her tea, sitting at the table by Regulus. Out of Regulus’ entire group of friends, Sirius likes her the best. She’s always the nicest to him. “Very punk rock.”

“Thank you, Pandora.” Sirius smiled.

“I think you look stupid.” Regulus said, because of course he did.

“Thank you, Reggie.” Sirius smiled.

“I think you look like me.” Barty said, leaning up against the kitchen counter, one foot on the cabinets behind him for stability.

Sirius furrowed his brow and looked Barty over. And… fuck, yeah, he did. Barty was also wearing a messily cropped shirt, briefs that stuck out of the hem of his low baggy sweats, but he usually wears jeans like these when he’s out and about. And his hair is almost identical to Sirius’, however there’s green in it rather than blue. And the piercings, he’s got loads of them, skin smothered with tattoos too.

“You stealing my look, Black?” Barty grinned.

“Yeah, Im very attracted to him right now.” Evan, who had his head resting on Barty’s shoulder, smiled, “You should go blue, Barty. Its hot.”

“Hey.” Barty nudged him in the side and Sirius blushed.

“Well, thank you Evan, however, I am happily committed.” Sirius smiled, taking another little bow, “I suppose I take that as a compliment too, Crouch?”

“Obviously.” Crouch snickered, “I feel honoured that the Sirius Black is trying to look more like little old me-“

“That was an accident.” Sirius pressed, pointing at him, “I just wanted to look cool for Remus.”

“So you think I look cool?” Barty laughed delightfully.

“That’ll work.” Dorcas grinned, “Remember when Remus and Barry shagged-“

“I don’t need a reminder of that!” Sirius shouted as the same time that Barty said, “Cas, I told you to stop bringing that up around Evan.”

“Oh, so she can bring it up when I’m not around, huh?” Evan asked with a snake like grin, “Do you like to reminisce when I’m not there, Barty? Are you unfaithful?”

“Never, dove.” Barty kissed Evans forehead and sent an evil glare Dorcas’ way, “Dorcas just likes to stir the pot.”

Dorcas and Pandora giggled to themselves.

“Okay, enough about you lot, more about me.” Sirius interrupted, “On a scale of one to ten, how much do you think Remus will want to shag me when I get home? Ten being a lot-“

Sirius’ speech was interrupted by someone else letting themselves in through the front door and striding into the house.

“Love, I broke my glasses again, can you please fix them?” Sirius recognised that voice instantly, it was his best friends voice afterall. James walked right past Sirius in the entry way and leant in and smacked a kiss right on Regulus’ lips, “Missed you.” James muttered again, “I know it’s only been three hours, but I always miss you.”

Sirius is feeling a lot of confusion right now.

Regulus sends him a panicked glance over James’ shoulder, and then awkwardly looks up at James with pink cheeks. Sirius takes in the sudden tension in the room, at the way Pandora is sending Sirius a pleading look, at the way Dorcas is biting her lip in anticipation and looking between everyone, at the way Barty is clearly trying his best not to burst out with laughter, and the way that Evan is jabbing an elbow into his side and looking remorseful.

Suddenly Sirius is no longer confused. He feels more betrayed than anything.

James is fucking shagging his baby brother, isn’t he?

“Oh, Barty, by the way-“ James starts but he interrupts himself midway through, “I swear you were just-“ James turns and points in Sirius’ direction, and then spins back to Barty, “Why are there two of you?”

Barty bursts out laughing, “There’s only one of me, Potter.”

James swings back and forth, looking between them for a moment. And Sirius remembers how genuinely blind James is without his glasses. He usually can’t tell Remus and Peter apart when without them, their hair too similar in colour. So Sirius decides to help him out.

“James.” Sirius prompts when James’ back is to him, and he watches the way the other man immediately stiffens, “Are you snagging my brother?”

Regulus stands and slides James’ glasses onto his face before solemnly petting him on the cheek and sighing, “You’ve been wanting to tell him somehow.”

James slowly turns around, “Oh, Sirius, hi! Didn’t see you there, wow, new look. Very punk, Remus is sure to love it- hey, why don’t we go show Remus now? Yeah, let’s go right there and not talk about anything else-“

“James.” Sirius prompts again, glaring at him, “Are you, or are you not, shagging my brother.”

“Uhm, well… shagging’s quite a vile word, don’t you think? I prefer… love making-“

Behind him, Regulus groaned and began to bang his head on the cupboard whilst all of his friends lit up with laughter.

“Love making?” Sirius gasped, “James, that’s disgusting.”

“Well, it’s not really, it’s quite lovely.”

Sirius pretends to gag, “How long?”

“Erm… bit of an odd question considering it’s your brother.” James shrugged, “But, usually at least an hour-“

“No!” Sirius gasped, slapping his hands down over his ears, which hurt due to the new piercings. “I meant you two! How long have you been shagging?”

“Oh.” James turned bright red, “Yeah, I suppose that’s more logical. Uhm, maybe… like… mhgh…”

“I’m sorry?” Sirius asked, “Mind not mumbling?”

James pulled a wry face and shook his head. Sirius cocked an eyebrow, which also hurt.

Regulus groaned and leant over James, shoulder, “Six and a half month-“

“What!” Sirius shrieked, “You’ve been fucking m’y brother for six and a half months and haven’t told me?!”

“I don’t need to tell you all my personal business, Sirius.” Regulus said.

“Yeah, but, James does.” Sirius points at him.

“It’s true, I do.” James agreed, “Which is why I’m so sorry, Pads. I didn’t want to keep it from you, it’s just, we thought we should at first because I know you scared away the last two guys Reggie was involved with. And then… and then I just felt bad for lying and so I kept lying and… and now we’re here.”

Sirius shook his head at James, “I’m so disappointed in you.” He squinted his eyes, “Just fooling around with my brother like that-“

“We’re not fooling around, Sirius.” James defended, “We never were.”

“I don’t understand.” Sirius shook his head, “Are you shagging or not?”

James snickered, “Look, I didn’t even know I had a crush on Reggie till he kissed me one day, and then I immediately realised I liked him and… and well, we started going out. The shagging didn’t start till after then.”

Sirius took a little step back, looking them both over.

“It’s genuine, Sirius.” James smiled, putting his arm around Regulus’ shoulders, “I just didn’t- I was too scared… I was worried you wouldn’t approve of me for him.” James shrugged, “But we’re not just shagging… I love him.”

Sirius was taken aback, stuck silent for a moment. James loved him? Regulus was gazing up at James with flushed cheeks and a a smile he’d never seen his brother wear before, and it seemed like Regulus loved him back.

Sirius burst out crying.

James immediately rushed to his aid, making them both sit at the table, two chairs pulled out to face eachother. Regulus groaned and went to put on a new pot of tea.

James took Sirius’ hands, shushing him and looking terribly guilty, “I- I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Sirius. Is there something I can do to make it up to you? Is… Is there something I can do to make me worthy of him? I can’t lose- I can’t lose either of you, I’m so sorry, Sirius.”

Sirius sobbed so hard he couldn’t even speak. He shook his head to try and communicate with James, but the message did not go across clearly.

James had started to cry too, “I’m sorry, Sirius. I’m so sorry, I should have- I know I shouldn’t have lied, especially not for so long. But I was so worried- worried about this. I can’t-“ James sobbed so hard he started hyperventilating, “I don’t want to loose- loose-“

“Okay.” Pandora muttered, getting in between them, “Look at me, let’s take some deep breaths. In through the nose, out through the mouth. With me now, come on, in through the nose… out through the mouth.”

Sirius and James sat there for a moment, following pandoras instructions. James’ glasses were cracked and foggy, and Sirius was dreading having to reapply his eyeliner for a second time today.

Regulus set some teacups down on the table and poured them each some midnight blue coloured tea, “Dora’s recipe. Supposed to calm you.”

“I’m sorry.” James muttered after taking a big sip of tea, “I don’t know what to do, Pads. I can’t lose you both.”

Sirius took a few sips himself, taking a moment to compose himself, “You’re not going too.” He smiled, his eyes begging to water again, “I’m sorry I freaked you out.”

“What?” James asked, taken aback, his voice sounded hoarse.

Sirius set his cup down with shaky hands and burst into more tears, but he smiled through them, and they weren’t nearly as heavy as before, “You love him?!”

James sent a nervous glance over at Regulus and tentatively nodded, “As much as I love you- but, differently, of course.”

That only made Sirius cry harder. He tried to talk again, but all that came out was incoherent nonsense.

“Sirius, stop wailing and just talk for Godricks sake.” Regulus scoffed, “Or you can fucking get out of my house.”

Sirius took a deep breath and sniffled, “I’m sorry… I just… you love him! Reggie deserves to be loved.”

“Oh.” James muttered, poking his glasses up his nose. Across the table, Regulus went silent. James smiled and nodded, “Yeah, of course he does.”

“And you deserve to be loved.” Sirius mumbles.

James snickers, “Well, I hope I do.”

“And… and you have such a big heart, and love people so… so… in the best way.”

James smiled and nodded.

“And Reggie-“ Sirius sobbed more, “He struggles- but he really loves who he loves with his whole heart.”

Regulus embarrassedly buried his head in his hands and Barty gave him a playful shove.

“Out of everyone in the world, I approve of you both the most for eachother.” Sirius sobbed, “And it just makes me so happy that you love eachother!”

There was a moment of silence before James started laughing in that way he does when he really adores something. He reached out and grabbed Sirius’ hands, squeezing them tight.

“It makes me so fucking happy that you approve.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Sirius sniffled, “You’re my best friend, and he’s my brother. You’re my two favorite people, it only makes sense that you love eachother.”

“Do you mean that?” Regulus asked across the table.

“Of course.” Sirius nodded, reaching over to pet Reggie’s elbow, “And when you get married James will be my brother in law-“

“I bloody know!” James grinned, slapping his knee, “How good will that be?”

Sirius grabbed onto him excitedly.

After a moment, James smiled and wiped at the black smudge from Sirius’ tears, “This new look got anything to do with Remus’ thing for punks?”

Sirius smiled sheepishly, “Do you think he’ll like it?”

“He liked it enough when you got those nose piercings, he’ll probably pass out seing you like this.”

Sirius chuckled.

“Come on, let’s clean you up and get you back home to him.”

Sirius smiled and nodded, “Thanks, Prongs.”

When Sirius got home, Remus did in fact malfunction. He couldn’t talk proper words for two whole minuets before he pointed to their room and muttered, “Bed, now.” And Sirius could never say no to his Moony.

★ ★ ★

Wow I wrote this at a regular hour in the day, hats off to me. This was inspired by @gaybubblehead and my texts about how they hc sirius goes through a phase where he looks just like Barty in terms of style and stuff and I honestly agree he would do that. I mean they came up with the entire idea of this basically and told me I should write it, and for once I actually delivered. lol

So this one’s for you my dude <3

It was silly, I started this with barely any direction and just let the story write its self. I should be writing my Christmas fic butttttt no.

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hush-writes-preg · 2 years

Note

[recipient he/him, creature they/he. Spooky Season prompt - please feel free to do whatever you want with this idea!] - imagine that i've performed a ritual to summon some supernatural companion; the text of the summoning language isn't clear on who it is and what they do, because the specific word for the kind of creature it is a triple entendre for king, lover, and something i don't recognize. i perform the ritual and nothing happens, seemingly. only i realize as the days go by i'm being hunted by something - or someone. they're cloaked by shadow, bigger and stronger than i can comprehend, and are testing the waters by caressing my skin when they think i'm asleep. as the nights go by i start to reciprocate, curiosity balancing out my raging hard on, but nothing seems to progress past heavy petting. the night his patience runs thin, they eventually wrestle me (willingly) into a breeding press, their throbbing heavy cock filling my cunt like it was tailor made to fit into me. it's in that moment that i realize the third meaning of my visitor's title; Sire. they've found me a suitable lover, fit to rule by his side, and he now claims me as a worthy vessel for his progeny. i take it and beg for more, infernal heat coursing through my veins where we're joined; they grin and laugh, speaking to me for the first time to promise that i'll look like i'm 3 months along by the time he's done with me.

It's been three nights since your failed ritual, and you're still angry at yourself.

What could have possibly gone wrong? You completed all of the runes, prepared the circle with utmost care, and you know for a fact that your pronunciation was relatively clear. Sure, you were working with an old grimoire written in an equally old tongue, but you're a scholar, damn it! You don't just cast magic willy-nilly!

You aimed to summon a creature as a companion, an intelligent magical being to bolster your power, and its secondary attributes meant little to you as long as it fulfilled its purpose. The spell mentioned a word which meant both 'king' (which you felt indicated your power over it) and 'lover' (which you interpreted to mean that it would be under your care); there might be other old meanings to the word, but they hardly mattered. All you needed to do was conjure up the creature and secure its loyalty, and you could have claimed complete success.

But you didn't.

You're so angry at yourself that you barely even notice the shadow at the corner of your vision, and when you finally turn in that direction, it's already gone.

Four days pass, then five. You keep sensing a shadow that you can never quite focus on, a large and imposing phantom that leaves the skin at the back of your neck prickling, but it never interacts with you. You can't help but wonder if something did something come through the failed rift from one of the hellish planes.

On the sixth night, you finally make contact, but not in the way you expect.

You're laying in bed, sorting through your mental library for the possible identity of your intruder with your eyes closed as you breathe steadily. It takes all of your willpower not to stiffen when something lands against the bedcover, an unexpected weight that slowly, carefully climbs its way up your leg. The touch pauses at your hip before vanishing, and the sudden loss makes you feel… strange.

On the seventh night, your assailant returns, only this time their fingers grow bolder. Their hand slides under the sheet to curl over the front of your groin, lightly inspecting the warmth of your mound and teasing between your legs. You have no idea who this is or what they want, but the attention leaves you wet and throbbing in a way you haven't felt in ages.

You nearly let your thighs fall apart to welcome them in when the touch disappears yet again, leaving you achingly hard and frustrated beyond measure.

For three more days you receive these nocturnal visitations. By the next, the very thought of bed leaves slick dripping down the inside of your thighs, and you feel like you just might go mad if whatever-it-is doesn't fucking touch you. You can't jerk off when your stalker is always around, watching you, but you can't go on feeling like you're about to explode from lust, either.

So that night you forgo your usual sleepwear and crawl under your covers naked as the day you were born.

There's nothing subtle or careful about the invisible touch this time as it boldly slides up your leg and almost possessively between your legs. You cry out, rocking up against those unseen fingers as they hook into your cunt and flick purposefully over your raging hard-on. A few beams of moonlight flood the room from your bedroom window but fail to reveal the identity of your shadowy intruder, though you find it very hard to care when they're making your eyes roll back in your head.

But before you can tumble over the edge of your first climax, someone is on top of you.

They're big and impossibly strong, their weight easily pinning you in place as they yank your legs up and back, exposing your cunt to view. You flail at them, instinctively searching for something to latch on to, but your hands pass through their shadowed form like so much air. Something hard and thick rubs purposefully over your entrance, the blunt head dragging against your sopping, lust-swollen lips and your own straining arousal, before plunging inside of you in one purposeful thrust.

You cry out, feeling them fill you up like their cock was custom-made for your body. You're babbling, begging to see them, for more, for them to take you harder--

Sire.

The word appears unbidden in your head, the last piece of the puzzle falling into place. Oh, how badly you'd interpreted that spell! You'd summoned yourself not an infernal servant but a mate, and a noble one at that. Fucking them would seal the binds that link you together and leave you as their lover, co-ruler over whatever plane they call home, and provide them with a fertile womb to bear their heirs. Namely, yours.

You shouldn't want any of that, but in this moment, you do.

"Please," you cry out, your hips bucking up to meet theirs with wild abandon. "Oh please, please take me! Please make me yours! Give me your seed and breed me!"

A sudden rush of infernal heat fills your cunt as they give you what you want. Abyssal magic winds you in its clutches and courses through your veins as your ill-begotten spell finds its inevitable conclusion, and reality itself seems to shatter as you're yanked into one of the most intense orgasms of your life.

In that moment, their shadowy cloak falls away.

Dark, smokey laughter fills your mind as they lean closer, glowing blue eyes fixed on your face as moonlight catches on sharp fangs, long pointed ears, and the curves of majestically clawed wings. The sound curls around your consciousness like a sensual caress and leaves you shivering. "Oh, I shall," the incubus purrs, his full lips curling in a wicked smile. "By the time I'm done with you, you'll already look about three months along with my first broad. The first of many, hmm, my sweet?"

(A Spooky Season response.)

#hush answers #hush writes preg #halloween pregnancy #monster breeding #demonic breeding #magic breeding

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aita-blorbos · 3 months

Note

AITA for sacrificing someone to an elder god? [RP character]

This title is… sort of misleading, I realise. I know I’m the asshole. I am not a good person. I would just… like some external input regarding all that has happened.

For clarity’s sake, I will also note that some time ago, I made another post on this forum, asking for your judgement on the morality of my having ran away from home. If you have seen me here before, that is why.

I will not spend much time reestablishing myself. My gender and age are difficult to discuss in the terms you are familiar with, but you may think of me as [30M] for simplicity’s sake.

For quite a large stretch of time, I have been fighting the influence of several entities laying claim upon my psyche. Most notable in this case are two: one which I will call “E”, and one which I will call “A”. For some time, E has been manipulating me, attempting in various ways to control, harm, and kill me. It is only with the assistance of two (former) friends that I have managed to remain largely unharmed.

I will refer to these friends as “R” [≈40M] and “C” [≈20sF]. I have no doubt that they will recognise themselves if they see this post, but I do not wish to reveal their identity to anyone else.

Over time, I managed to establish a life for myself, although the influence of E was still a looming threat. I wish to establish that life was good. Life was wonderful in the most mundane ways. It was fleeting. It was so horribly fleeting.

I’m sorry.

But I digress. I found an arcane text left outside my door one day. If you are familiar with my previous post, you will know I have referred to curiosity as my sharpest weakness, and I am afraid you will not be surprised by the following actions I took.

The book was not written in a script I could understand. I had, at the time, attributed this to its authorship. However, it is now apparent to me that this was A’s work, in an attempt to manipulate me: to lure me to her with something I could not understand.

I spoke to another god [one of the few beings not out for my head, and one whose jurisdiction was meant to contain knowledge and language] about the book, believing they would provide answers. However, they told me the book was truly within the domain of A.

I found a way to contact A, although it was difficult. When she spoke to me, she told me the book held vast power: the power to bring someone back from the dead, and told me she would grant me knowledge of that ensconced within.

The knowledge and power she would grant would, maybe, be enough to help me fight against E, though she refused to directly intervene.

On one condition.

There’s always a catch. Nothing comes for free. Nothing good lasts.

I’m sure, based on the title of this post, you can see where this is going. She asked me to kill a servant of hers: a witch. A girl.

I should stress that I was told the girl would live. That, after her ritualistic death, she would return with greater power. Afterwards, my sole responsibility was to bring her to meet with A.

Nothing else.

I’m sorry. It’s not a justification.

I hunted her down. With the help oEntirely on my own, acting as an independent agent, I came into possession of a substance which would simulate non-existence, blinding, immobilising, and rendering invisible those dosed with it.

I used this substance on her, in an attempt to make it as painless as possible, and to prevent her from seeing my face. To clear my conscience? To make it as quick as possible? I drove my blade into her like a lamb upon the sacrificial altar.

I felt sick. I felt so, so sick.

A familiar pull in my head brought me to where she had re-emerged. I guided her gently to A, where her hands took her into the darkness in-between.

I didn’t know she’d be gone for good. I swear. I swear. I was a fool. I don’t know if it would have changed anything, had I known, but I swear I didn’t know.

I came back.

R knew, of course. C didn’t. She trusted me. She still cared about me. I told her and she still cared. Didn’t mind. Thought I had been misled. I can’t bear to look her in her eyes.

I can’t die now.

If I try, I’ll be brought back in another form: such is the burden of a witch.

I suppose my question isn’t really if I’m in the wrong here. I know I am. I’ve established that well.

I just want to know if I can fix this. I want to know if it’s possible for me to be a good person. I want to know if I can do anything right with my life, or if I should keep hunting for a way to tear this immortality out of my soul and rid the world of me for good.

If any of you- the people I called friends, once- are reading this, I’m sorry. I know it doesn’t mean a thing after what I’ve done, but I am.

I miss you.

#aita #am i the asshole #unreality

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sunflowersoldat · 1 year

Text

All is Fair~ Dead-ends & Devotion

Chapter 26: Dead-ends and Devotions

Main Master List

Series Master List

Series Summary: Family is important, but so is the Family business. Everyone has secrets, some are deadly. Your the best in the business, but no one knows who you are. Tensions are high, will you raise the stakes or fold under the pressure?

Series Warning: 18+! Mentions of blood and violence, bad language words, smut, manipulation, gaslighting, death, trauma, please follow the warnings for each chapter.

Chapter warnings: 18+ Only! Major Character Deaths! Violence, Bad language words, mentions of torture, existential/identity crisis.

Pairing: Mob!Steve x Assassin!Stark!reader

Word count: 3K

A/N: Its been a while since I posted for this story, sorry March is kinda a shitty month for me, and I had to make sure this was perfect before posting it! Including this chapter there are only one and a half chapters left! I hope you enjoy the chapter!

Numb.

That wasn’t quite the word Steve would use for how he felt right now. Broken, dismal maybe. Incomplete.

Lost.

In all his years, he’d never seen anything like this, never heard of anything remotely close to this happening in the past. His mind was muddled, foggy, he could barely focus as he, Zemo, Sharron and Natasha, made their way into the main lobby of Stark Tower.

He was merely going through the motions, there were so many voices and people, he had half the sense to order Sam and Ronin, who had only just arrived, to slip Conquest, whose name they’d learned was Fandral, out the doors and into their vehicle. They would deal with him, on their terms.

He scanned the lobby, catching Tony’s wife, Pepper and one of their men as they received the news. It was truly heartbreaking, she clung to the gurney, the man gently pulling her away, trying to comfort her.

All this chaos, all the death, for what? A goddamn title? Power? He shook his head, there was no amount of power worth all of this.

Scanning the lobby again, his eyes caught a familiar head of white hair dashing out the side door, it had to have been you. He bolted after you, if he could just talk to you, maybe he could convince you to let them handle it; at the very least allow them to help you.

Shoving his way through the crowd and onto the busy sidewalk, he caught another glimpse of your hair in the sea of people, keeping it in his sights, he pushed farther, a paramedic shoved into him, spinning off track, but Steve shoved forward. When he made it to the spot you had been in, you were gone. He cursed, not a single trace of you was left behind. The crowd of people jostled him as he tore his hand through his hair, stepping forward— a scraping crunch met his ears, he jumped back, looking down.

On the ground, covered in blood spatter, a familiar skeletal mask lay broken. He knelt to pick up the pieces, fingers brushing lightly over the white surface, the curves and edges that mimicked bones.

He had to stop you, at least try to reason with you. Reaching for his phone, he dialed you, silently praying you’d pick up on the other end, then, just maybe he could save you.

But as the line rang…

And rang…

And rang, the hope he held onto disintegrated.

Finally the line died, a deafening silence settled in his heart.

A bone deep chill shuddered through him.

—

Steve leaned back in the hospital recliner, his eyes heavy as he watched over Bucky in the hospital bed, he lay sleeping, his shoulder wrapped in bandages. He had almost lost his best friend, all because he couldn’t see the damn answer staring him in the face. Too much bloodshed, too much death.

The door squeaked open as Steve scrubbed his hands over his face, looking up. Queens hobbled through the door, a bandage wrapped around his thigh, he propped himself against the wall taking a deep breath. He looked like hell, “Aren’t you supposed to be resting?”

Queens shrugged, screwing his lips to the side, “Got restless, besides Wade finally left my side.” He smiles softly, “It wasn’t by choice though, his boss pulled him away, otherwise I think he’d still be attached to my hip.”

Steve huffs a laugh, “How’d he find you?”

Queens gave him a sad smile, “Ace, she had found me before…”

Steve nods knowingly. Of course, you cared for Queens like he was your own blood, it only made sense for you to send someone you trusted to take care of him.

“She’s something else…” Queens pauses as Steve meets his gaze, “I mean… Have you ever seen her in action? I don’t even know how to explain it, it's…”

“Mesmerizing?” Steve offers. “Yeah, I’ve sparred with her, she’s… something else.”

Queens nods, a silence settles, after a moment, he breaks the silence again “Have you heard anything?” He asks tentatively.

Steve drops his gaze shaking his head, “No. She’s disappeared, without a trace.”

Queens sighs limping towards Steve, pulling something out of his pocket, he reaches out, placing the small box into Steve’s hand. The black velvet soft in his rough hands, he already knows what it is. Steve inhales deeply, “Thought I lost it…”

Queens gives him a sad smile, “I found it in your penthouse office, buried in rubble… Were you really gonna ask her?”

Steve works his jaw, his chest constricting uncomfortably as he stares at the tiny box, he doesn’t have the heart to open it and look at the ring; what he could have had.

What he will never have.

Bucky coughs, moving to sit-up in the bed, his face screwed up, “Ya never asked her, Punk?”

Steve turns to him, shaking his head, “Never had the chance…”

Bucky reaches for it, plucking it from Steve’s grip, “Don’t worry pal, you’ll get to ask her.”

“I doubt that, she’s gone Buck, even Zemo can’t find her—”

“Steve.” Bucky cuts him off. He turns again, Bucky is staring into the box wide-eyed.

“What is it, Buck?”

Bucky’s eyes flicker between him and Queens, turning the box so he and Queens can see it. Bucky’s voice shakes, “It’s gone.”

—

Your breaths were sharp and ragged as you stumbled through the safe house door, your hand holding your side, desperate to keep your blood inside your body. Thor’s men had been waiting for you, they weren’t his usual help, these men were trained, lethal. Heimdal, the only commander he had left, knew you were coming, they put up a valiant fight, in the end it didn’t matter only one survived. But you had let your guard down, let your anger and emotions get in your head, now you suffered the consequences.

Settling on the couch, you began the dirty work of patching yourself, the vodka next to you only dulled the pain, clouding your mind. Groaning, you poured the little amount left onto your side. You hissed, teeth clenched from the sting of the alcohol.

A throat cleared in the darkness of your ramshackle safe house, slowly you reach for your pistol, aiming into the darkness, your hand slightly shaking. A chuckle floated in the air,

“Come now Peladora, we both know you’re a shitty shot after you drink.”

Jake.

“I still coulda hit ya, wouldn’t kill ya, but it’d hurt like ’ell.” You relax, placing the gun back where you’d retrieved it. You continue patching yourself as Jake makes his way toward you, kneeling by your side.

A small smile curves his lips, “We have to stop meeting like this Peladora.” Batting your hands away, he takes over patching your wound.

Wincing you lean back so he can assist you better, “How’d you find me?”

He sighs deeply, eyes lifting to meet yours, “I’m always there when you need me.”

“You won't stop me.”

He can see the determination in your eyes, the wildfire burning bright, “I don’t intend to try. Didn’t try to stop you when we began this journey, why would I now?”

You shrug, breaking eye contact, “Do you regret it?”

His brows raise, “Saving you?”

If he didn’t have a needle in your side you would’ve punched him, you roll your eyes, “No…”

He nods knowingly, “But, I think about it sometimes… What you would have become if I refused to train you.” He cuts the stitching, pulling your shirt down to cover you, “I don’t think it would have prevented anything. I think though you have become something you despise, it was necessary.” His hand brushes your hair from your face, “Do I regret what you have lost? Yes, but the losses would have been far greater without you. Sometimes we must become the villain to do the things that are against the heroes’ code”

“One good deed is not enough to forgive my lifetime of bloodshed. Have you seen the paper? They’ve pinned the blame for everything on the Ace of Spades.”

“Did you expect anything different? Is it not better to have blood spilt from those who desire to harm the innocent than for the innocent to bleed for nothing? Thor would have slaughtered everyone, without you. Zemo’s family, your family, Steve and his men… and anyone else who tried to stand in his way. Besides, did you really think Thor would take the blame?”

It hurts, the truth, the undeniability of the monster you’ve become. You knew deep down a normal life was no longer in the cards for you, but it cut deep nonetheless. You’d known someone would have to be the scapegoat, you figured it would have been Loki, but it only made sense to blame the one who no longer exists. You purse your lips, “Tony’s Death was my own fault, and my family is still dead. Loki didn’t deserve his fate, neither did Peggy, or Tony, or my parents.”

Jake sighs, sitting next to you on the couch, situating you to where your feet are propped on his legs, he nods slowly, “Power can be dangerous, it turns even the best people into rabid dogs. Many lost their lives, most of them didn’t deserve it, but you know better than I, no one's hands are clean in this business. But your niece and sister-in-law will live full lives, without fear of Thor and his men.” he pauses to take a deep breath, his hand patting your ankle, “Peladora, you cannot blame yourself for what happened, you didn’t know how it would end. Even if you did, would you change it? If you could trade Steve’s life for your brother’s, would you?”

You snort, burying his questions. Truth be told, you don’t know if you could make that decision. To choose your brother over Steve, or Steve over your brother. It wasn’t a choice that day, but instinct. You sigh, now wasn’t the time to wallow in self pity or mourn, there was work to be done. “Thor is still alive.”

He turns to you, eyes hard, jaw muscles working, “For now. I have a feeling that will change…” he merely lifts a brow at you, “After all he has no one else to hide behind, his commanders are dead, Heimdall was his last defense.”

You hum and slowly rise to your feet, heading into your makeshift room, Jake follows, watching as you repack your bag, pulling out your clothes and weapons.

He turns to leave, but stops, snapping his fingers, “Oh, I almost forgot” —he pulls a small pouch from his pocket— “Wade wanted me to give this to you, says not to open it until you're done.”

He tosses the pouch to you, catching it, you scowl, “What is it?”

He merely shrugs, “Probably some weird ass good luck charm, you know how Wade is.”

You nod, putting it into your pocket.

“Was it worth it?” –Jake gives a pointed look to your side- “Did he give Thor up?”

You shake your head, “No, but I have my own ways of finding him.” You pull paperwork from your bag, a list of property and other holdings under Loki’s name. Thor wasn’t dumb enough to use his own property as a hiding place.

He frowns, raising his brow, “I don’t have to tell you he’s dangerous, Peladora.”

“I know.”

“This could be our final goodbye.”

You stop packing, swallow thickly and drop your gaze, “It could be, it could not be… but when I get pulled into the depths of hell, I’m taking him with me.”

—

It had been over a week since Ace had gone missing, the underground uncharacteristically quiet on the topic, Bucky felt bad for Steve.

It was almost like you had died again, but Steve was better at hiding his feelings this time, but Bucky knew better. He stared at Steve from the passenger’s seat, “How you doin pal?”

Steve side-eyed him from the driver’s seat, “Fine, Buck. Why?”

He pursed his lips, glancing back at Peter in the back seat, raising a brow. Peter rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “Riiighhhtt… how are you really?”

Bucky watches Steve’s jaw work as he chews his lip, “It sucks. It’s almost worse than when I thought she was dead…” his knuckles turned white as he gripped the steering wheel, “At least dead, I knew for sure. But now I don’t know if she’s alive or bleeding out somewhere…”

Bucky swallows, twisting his mouth to the side, “You know, I never did apologize to you, Punk…” he sighs as Steve eyes him, “I’m sure she told you her side, how awful I was… But—“

Steve shakes his head, “Don’t worry about it Buck, it doesn’t matter anymore.”

“But you see, it matters to me. I know everyone thinks I just had a hard-on to kill her, like I was just set on not letting her get away…” he pauses, clenching his shaking fist, “Look, it may have started out like that, it hurt, she betrayed all of us that night we caught her, more so you, but it hurt nonetheless.”

Steve slows the car, parking it at one of their warehouses. Shutting off the ignition, he turns in his seat towards Bucky, he can feel the weight of his stare going in the side of his head. Behind them, he can feel Peter waiting to rebuttal. Bucky didn’t hate you, he hated what you stood for. What you had done. What you were willing to do.

Taking a deep breath he continued, “That night I followed her, picked her up at some gas station… I didn’t intend to kill her.” His heart is roaring in his ears, his palms are slick with sweat, he isn’t sure Steve believes him, but it's the truth. “I had every intention to scare her off, get her to leave, not only you, but the city. Then she opened her damn mouth and I… I—”

He closed his eyes, shoving at the memory as it surfaced in his mind; you sitting bloody and broken in front of him. He could lie and say there was no fear in your eyes, but if he was honest with himself, he saw it. He saw the lie in your eyes, the false bravado you paraded in front of him. When you realized you had pushed him too far, “She threatened you again… Promised to make you beg for her to kill you. Swore she would make me watch…” he looked to Steve, expecting him to be angry, but he wasn’t. Steve was staring at him in understanding, sorrow swimming in his eyes. Bucky clenched his jaw again, “I promise, never, not even once did she lead me to believe she loved you… if… if she had, I wouldn’t have—“

He breaks off as the memory of you clawing at the dock skitters across his mind. He knew he had gone too far when he had gotten home, he could feel the guilt and remorse eating away at him. But he had to tell himself it was to keep Steve safe, for his own sanity.

Steve’s hand grasped his shoulder, “I understand, Buck. I know her tactics, the way her brain works… That's how I know I’ll never see her again. The look in her eye when she left to chase Thor, it was a goodbye.” Steve sighs deeply, “Whatever was simmering in her veins beneath the surface, whatever was caged and locked away, held at bay by those four little words. It’s out now, and it's after Thor. She’s not the woman we knew, she’s something else entirely. Something dark and dangerous and it's out for blood.”

—

Peter walked with Steve and Bucky deep in the warehouse, where they were keeping Fandrel or Conquest is what the underground calls him. Ronin had his turn, so did Sam, trying to get Thor’s location and allies from him. So far nothing has worked, and their list of possible leads keeps getting shorter.

Ace has been cutting through the list of Thor’s people too fast for them to keep up, they have been three steps behind her this entire time. They had found Heimdal and all his security dead last night, and then today multiple buildings on the outskirts of the city were burned down. They need to find Thor or you quick, if they didn’t, Peter feared they would lose you for good.

They came to a stop, whimpers and cursing could be heard on the other side of the door, muffled by the thick metal. Steve took a deep breath, nodding towards the door for Bucky, “Do what you do best Buck, we need that information, now.”

Bucky nods, Peter moves to join him, but Bucky stops him, “Queens. Sit this one out, let me handle this.”

Peter scowls, “What? I can do this Bucky, let me help, I wanna find Ace too.”

Bucky shakes his head, “Not for this kid. I need you out here. This fucker and his friends were the ones who attacked you, I wasn’t able to protect you then, lemme make it up to you now.” Bucky’s eyes met his, his blue eyes so full of pain and anger, he was doing this for him.

Peter nodded slowly, he understood, he said a silent prayer when the door closed, please, just let us find her…

—

Weeks of recon, months.

You finally had the bastard, there was nowhere else for him to go.

As you stared into the mirror, the eyes that stared back weren’t ones you recognized. A fire burned so deep and hot within them, you thought they would scorch you with a single glance. You knew it was yourself staring back at you, but you couldn’t recognize yourself and what you had become.

No mask or contacts this time to hide behind. You wanted Thor to look you in the eye when he took his final breath, to understand and feel what you felt.

You could almost taste the freedom on your tongue, only hours away.

Only two things left to do.

Kill Thor.

Lose yourself.

—

Finally, finally, they found you, if they beat you they could accomplish two things–

Kill Thor.

Save you.

@dontbescaredtosingalong @texan-tazzy @tianamontag @daiseychaindisaster @silently-killing-you @buckyfan12 @leyannrae @justlovelifeblog @austynparksandpizza @capson-of-coul @betareader7 @vicmc624 @bigphattygyal @calwitch @buckysteveloki-me @curlyladylazarus111 @talesofadragon @trudy-shams

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peemanne · 2 months

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Yakuza 3 Review: Shining "Black Sheep"

Hey, it's Pee again. I actually finished writing the first draft of this AND my Yakuza 4 review months ago on my notebook, but I didn't get around to transcribing it digitally until now. Ended up rewriting a lot more than I was expecting haha

Also I still need to finish my 0 review but I'm a little caught up on making my 6 review first, since I'm kind of just dying to talk about it. Anyways, here's Yakuza 3. It's so cool.

This review contains MAJOR SPOILERS.

Reviewed on April 10, 2024. Last completed on March 5, 2023

Completed on PC (Remastered)

Rating: 8/10 (4 Stars)

Yakuza 3’s become something of a black sheep within the community. It might be because of the jump from Kiwami 2 or the lack of a proper port of the original 2, but a part of the community seems to be so adamant about bashing 3, usually because of the combat, the story, or some mix of both. That being said, I’ve noticed that we’re kind of backtracking from that, as more and more people come to praise and appreciate 3, some even calling it one of the best. Personally, I do find myself liking Yakuza 3 quite a bit, though there are definitely a few missteps that hold it back from really sitting there with the other greats in RGG’s catalogue.

I just want to get one thing immediately out of the way as I get into the game’s combat: “Blockuza” is an overblown exaggeration. Kiryu has a lot of tools to get past something like that. With that being said though, Yakuza 3’s early game combat can feel a little miserable at times, especially with some egregiously bad boss fights like Tamashiro 1 and Rikiya. Once you grab the Komaki abilities though, it all really starts to open up for the player. Wall bounding with Kiryu’s moveset is fun, counterattacks like the Komaki Parry and Tiger Drop feel especially beefy in this entry, and 3’s engine allows for some neat off-the-ground tech if you know what you’re doing. While I don’t think it’s quite as satisfying as its predecessor Yakuza 2, Yakuza 3’s hits still feel hefty and impactful, with the aforementioned counterattacks being the big winners here. The sound design in the combat is still really solid, and I believe is something that usually goes underappreciated during discussions of this game’s combat (and in general, really). I also just wanna bring up the weird messed-up faces that appear after you use heat actions on the generic street goons. It’s very funny just how absolutely horrible they look after a fight, and it’s even funnier that this carries over to 4. One aspect that I do feel is a little lacking though is Kiryu’s damage in this entry. It’s weirdly lacking? And it’s not like bosses take too long, that’s not really my problem, but it makes heat actions feel oddly weightless despite the good animation work. Getting everything right for a heat action only for it to barely dent the poor soul you’re beating the snot out of just doesn’t feel the same. For comparison, Y4’s Kiryu feels like he does way more damage with his heat actions, and I think they feel better there because of it, which is interesting when you remember Y4 Kiryu is almost identical to his depiction in 3. Yakuza 3’s combat overall is pretty solid save for the early game. It’s far from the strongest this series has seen, but Kiryu’s moveset feels strong and is just pretty fun to mess around with. Props to Richardson for being the only actually enjoyable gun boss fight in the series. With that being said, please keep Lau Ka Long away from me.

Yakuza 3’s story arguably has Kiryu at his best. He finally gets to breathe in between constant Tojo feuds with some dad slice-of-life stuff at the orphanage, and all of it is just so, so cute. It’s a little slow, sure, and that might not be everyone’s cup of tea, but I found myself so charmed by it all. My heart melts seeing Kiryu, who’s gone through so much, get to be happy with his little scamps. The characters really come through here, the stars of course being the Ryudo family. Rikiya’s the brightest one, a fun companion throughout who both contrasts and bounces off of Kiryu well. Then there’s Nakahara and Saki, a sweet encapsulation of the game’s themes of fatherhood. And there’s the kids themselves, all distinct and fun to simply watch run around with their Uncle Kaz. My favorite one is Taichi because he’s awesome.

The rest of the plot though, I’m a little mixed on. There are some genuinely great stuff here: Mine’s an amazing antagonist despite his small amount of screentime, seeing the Tojo so broken down after Kiryu’s shenanigans in 1&2 was interesting (the Nishikiyama family having KANDA as its patriarch is my favorite example of this), Majima’s characterized shockingly well, this game marking the start of him being taken more seriously, and Joji’s honestly a cool ass character despite being an asspull and a half. Unfortunately, Yakuza 3 has a few egregious mistakes that impede it from being an all-timer story for this series. For one, 3 falls victim to a lot of early writing habits that this series eventually broke out of over time. A lot of characters unjustly die for no good reason, Mine and Kashiwagi being the biggest offenders. It also has the big ol’ “Kiryu forgets to disarm the bad guy and said bad guy kills a valued ally” schtick, and it’s as infuriating as ever. Then there’s the “giant exposition dump” chapter, with Yakuza 3 having by far the worst case of it ever with Chapter 9: The Plot, which is almost entirely dedicated to Kiryu and Date sitting down and listening to some politician explain what the hell is even going on. Despite all of this, Yakuza 3’s story is still very enjoyable, and I think it’s very much worth it to endure all of its little shortcomings to appreciate its amazing characters, both new and returning faces.

Side content is decently well-rounded for the most part in Y3. It introduced the series to Karaoke, for which we are all eternally grateful, of course. I really like the hostess songs in this entry, and it’s a shame that most of them don’t return for later games. 3 also has the hitman missions, which is a cool side-activity throughout. Additionally I hate Yakuza 3’s golf and everything it stands for Yakuza 3’s substories consist of a lot of filler substories where not much really happens, but the ones that stand out REALLY stand out. You have a really unique substory that spans from Chapter 9 until the finale in Murder at Cafe Alps, you have some silly gag substories like Kiryu having to cross the street with 2 massive ice-cream cones. You have substories that flesh out characters from the main story, like the amazing Dotting the Eye with Rikiya, and the sweet Date’s Pride substory. You can also have Kiryu say “H e y , s w e e t c h e e k s” in English, if you so please. I love it! 1-4 all have substories that occasionally use full-on cutscenes, and you can tell how much care they put into them. Yeah, it still has that annoying thing from other early games where you can flat-out fail a substory and lock you out of them, but still. Quality selection of substories.

Lastly, 3’s soundtrack. I’m absolutely a sucker for this series’ soundtrack, so I’m not even going to pretend that I’m not biased. Yakuza 3’s music bridges the gap between the roughness and raw power of the original Yakuza 1 & 2’s almost grungelike style with the cleaner compositions of the later games, and I think it works out pretty well! You have your badass tracks like FM-Sound’s Storm, Bruise, and Hear this in the game. You have your intense, climactic songs like the fan-favorite Fly, the beautiful Lyricism Without Tears (which, as a bonus, gets one of the coolest track names this series has ever been graced with), and the underrated End Point. I find Yakuza 3’s OST isn’t really talked about all that much outside of the justified praise of Fly, which is a real shame, because there are some real quality tracks on display here.

Yakuza 3 stands as a very solid game in its own right, even with a few annoyances bogging it down. I don’t think it deserved all of the unending slander it seems to receive. I love my dad Kiryu, I love seeing him hang out with his kids, and, despite all the bad, I still love this game. Also, Albert Wesker’s in it, and I think that’s pretty funny.

#rgg #ryu ga gotoku #yakuza #like a dragon #ramblings of the pee-man #Yakuza 3 SPOILERS #I got YAKUZA 3 SPOILERS in here..........

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sidesteppostinghours · 4 months

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*whispering softly* it all comes back to you, you little shit

small analysis about why i think this is a really good song for fhr under the cut

—

Is it really a complex or just lacking context/Why would someone go so far to be a walking lie?

this just. sums up step as a character. such a massive chunk of their story is exploring the identities they take up(puppet, step, and vsona) and the reasons why they use each one. why did step decide to be so many different people at once? is it safety? comfort? simply not knowing how to be anything else? the vagueness leaves it open for interpretation. a lot of the song is like this, which is why i find its really good for a wide variety of peoples steps.

Yeah, that don't sound like me/I don't think I'm that guy (enter beginner's guide)

technically not an analysis, but i have a really strong image of step singing all three lines (counting the one in the bracket as a line) with their three identities singing one line each if that makes sense.

Please, excuse our current appearance/I realize that it's quite a mess

this line can be taken as two things. either its step talking about themeselves– most likely post-heartbreak– and how theyre clearly not the hero they used to be. or the line can be about the rangers. the second interpretation makes more sense with the next lines:

And our deepest apologies for all of the noise/We're understaffed and we're over-stressed

i think with the previous lines being an interpretation of step, this dives more into their gripes with their villainy (eg, some steps are overworked, some steps are unsure of their own goals, some of them arent sure if they want to be a villain) and how the it affects their mental state ("the noise" in this case could refer to the stress and doubts, or if you want to get literal, it could be steps endless amounts of brain passengers).

with the rangers interpretation, though, i imagine it being one of them literally describing the state of the rangers at the moment. most likely ortega showing step the hq after the argent incident? in this case it could become a lot more sinister, since theres a lot of room for step to take advantage of the information ortega just handed them.

That I would lose (needed a change of pace)/Oh, I would lose/Between my left and right, one day I'd have to choose (gone without a chance)

honestly? this whole section is the kind of thing id imagine is running through steps mind 24/7. lots of missed opportunities, cutting back and forth, regrets everywhere you turn. and step still has to make a choice now to be better or worse than who they were the day before.

He found the man before him had died

looking in the mirror. finding a dead man. need i say more.

#funnily enough this was Not brought about by listening to the song itself #but i was listening to “against the kitchen floor” instead #and i got obsessed with this one section of the lyrics and amalyzed it and then i remembered this song existed #btw this whole album is extremely fhr coded #the only reason i havent made an animatic with this song yet is because theres no universal sidestep i can put for it #and that bothers me because this song embodies the concepts sidestep is built from #so it feels like a disservice to just use one sidestep #BTW THIS ALBUM HAUNTS ME EVERYWHERE I GO #NO MATTER WHAT FANDOM IM INTERESTED IN AT THE MOMENT IT FOLLOWS ME #MY OCS ARENT SAFE #NOT EVEN MY FRIENDS OCS ARE SAFE #LET ME FREE #pulp speaks #fhr #Spotify

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runwayrunway · 10 months

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No. 30 - LATAM Airlines

I wasn't entirely forthright last time. About the correct response to my questionnaire, I mean. I didn't lie. I just left out the second half.

Yes. It was a trick question. Brazil has four carriers that have, at one point or another, had solid claim to the title of flag carrier. And right now, the airline which represents them on the long-haul scale, their link to the world, their 'flag carrier'...is LATAM Airlines.

Why doesn't LATAM count? Well, because LATAM is...something quite unusual, a conglomeration of different features which appear in isolation but have yet to rear their head together, creating an admixture which I fear casts a shadow over much, if not all, of Latin America.

LATAM's story doesn't start in Brazil. It starts in Chile. But it doesn't stay there.

What do all these airlines have in common?

Their planes look like this now.

LAN-Chile was privatized in the 1990s. Until then, it had been the country's flag carrier. Now it was on the hunt to become something more. It was one thing to be the largest carrier in Chile, but there's more than just Chile out there. International carriers know this well, since they go outside of Chile.

Around the same time as LAN-Chile was privatized, LAN Perú was created as an independent company. It was a rough time for Peruvian aviation. Its flag carrier, Aeroperú, had just gone under, and its other major airline, Faucett, had lead the way for it two years earlier. They needed a new national airline, and LAN was there, identical in branding to the Chilean carrier of the same name. Unsurprisingly, it was officially made a subsidiary of LAN in 2002. Even the livery was changed.

Over 70% of the market share was now held by what was essentially a Chilean airline, without even the name of the country it served written on its livery.

Also in 2002, LAN created another subsidiary - LAN Ecuador. It obviously looked the exact same as the other two LANs, so I have simply added another picture of a LAN Chile airplane. There is no reason I should care enough not to.

The LAN livery? Well, it's fine. I like the size of the wordmark and the way they committed to having half the fuselage covered, as should be the minimum, though other airlines do this exact shape far better; the layered light and dark blues are nice.

C. For Chile. Or maybe Peru. Or whatever else.

Another subsidiary was created, LAN Dominicana. Argentine airline Aero 2000 was acquired and became LAN Argentina. Both are now defunct.

Colombia's second-largest airline, AIRES, also fell prey to the LAN infection which had now firmly planted its roots and its routes across the continent.

I actually more or less like the AIRES livery, which makes me sad. It's got a real sense of forward motion with those swooping lines and the high placement of the forward-leaning letters. It's...nothing special, but it's good enough.

It's at least worth a C+. I wish it still existed.

It could have been worse - Avianca, Colombia's flag carrier, held on, and is still in operation - one of the only challenges to LAN and what is now LATAM in South America. I'm sure they would have liked to have Avianca, and Panamanian flag carrier Copa, too, but even Copa draws the line here. But Copa and Avianca were small fry. There was only one carrier standing between them and utter domination - the largest airline in all of Latin America.

In 2011, TAM and LAN finalized a binding agreement to merge. The two companies fused into one, by far the largest holding company in Latin America, though much like the many LANs it continued to operate as separate companies. TAM still wore its own livery, but time was catching up to it.

TAM isn't a hero here. Well, nobody is, these are giant corporations that paint different things on their airlines, but my point is that TAM had done nearly the exact same thing.

LAP (Líneas Aéreas Paraguayas) was the flag carrier of Paraguay, until it wasn't. In 1994 it was privatized and sold to an Ecuadorian-Paraguayan consortium which also owned now-defunct Ecuatorean airline SAETA. (Their livery was boring.)

It began operations again as LAPSA Air Paraguay. Much the reverse of the LANs, this was SAETA operating under Paraguayan branding. But this only lasted until 1996, when TAM's Paraguayan subsidiary ARPA (Aerolíneas Paraguayas) acquired it and it was merged into TAM, with...you guessed it...the same livery. (Their livery was boring, though I always appreciate a nice bisected wordmark.)

This is TAM's livery from 2005 to 2008. What was now TAM Paraguay of course shared it.

This is the point where we stop and ask: why do I care? Doesn't this happen everywhere, all the time? Didn't like, thirty legacy carriers eventually merge into five in the US? Well, none of those were really a flag carrier, as much as certain brands like TWA were massive it just doesn't feel like it's quite the same. Not to mention that, unlike LATAM, which operates separate airlines in identical branding, when Delta absorbed Northwest or United swallowed Continental the entirety of their operations were merged into one company. It was what I'd call a 'true' operational merger rather than just occurring at the corporate level, like LATAM.

But aren't a lot of flag carriers owned by some combination of the same holding companies? The best-known example: doesn't Air France own KLM?

Well, sort of, yes. The merger between Air France and KLM is actually quite similar to the LAN-TAM merger in the sense that it's officially a merger but it's quite clear who's absorbing who. The merged company which became LATAM, despite taking a new name (combining LAN and TAM to make the admittedly clever LATAM) kept LAN's CEO, membership in oneworld rather than Star Alliance, and airport slots. It's 60% owned by Banco de Chile. It also keeps LAN's use of literally identical liveries for its branches instead of just mostly identical ones. All of the airlines which are part of LATAM are still operating as if nothing happened despite the fact that, in the sense of branding and identity, they just don't exist anymore.

But KLM obviously exists. In fact, KLM is an upcoming post! Because what LATAM is doing is pretty unusual!

Lufthansa owns Brussels Airlines, Austrian Airlines, and whatever the flag carrier of Switzerland is. The same company owns British Airways and Iberia. None of those brands have been retired. Is it because it would cause massive backlash and thus lose money? I mean, probably, but that's never stopped companies from doing anything. I wouldn't be surprised if it were written into merger agreements in all honesty. When Davey Neeleman and his investie acquired custody of TAP it was on the condition they keep their base in Lisbon. I wouldn't be surprised if Lufthansa's contract included "let Belgium keep its flag carrier, even if it's owned by a German company".

It is almost aggressively normal for one massive conglomerate to own multiple seemingly unrelated brands. Everyone knows the thing about Mars owning every major candy at this point. But that isn't the same thing. That's like if every Mars-owned candy was branded as CANDY YOU CAN BUY IN AMERICA. Not even HERSHEY'S BAR YOU CAN BUY IN AMERICA. Just CANDY YOU CAN BUY IN AMERICA.

It's not TAM, a member of the LATAM Group. It's not LAN Perú. It's LATAM.

Perhaps the strange legacy of Brazilian flag carriers contributes to this fate. Perhaps those of other countries would be less willing to go along with it. You might think that. But the answer is far more gruesome: this is normalized in Latin America.

Avianca is an old, tenured airline with its own history. The Avianca Group is the second-largest airline holding group in Latin America and unfortunately does the exact same thing, being the death knell to flag carriers: El Salvador's TACA (which occupies a similar nominal-partner status as the former TAM), Costa Rica's LACSA, and Guatemala's Aviateca (which I would call a flag carrier by process of elimination, much like TAM), which had fallen to TACA before its absorption.

Believe it or not, Copa, which doesn't even have its own livery, is one of the largest bastions of brand identity freedom still clinging to life. Other competitively large flag carriers still operating in Latin America include Argentina's Aerolíneas Argentinas; Bolivia's Boliviana de Aviación; Cuba's Cubana de Aviación; and Mexico's Aeroméxico; though smaller flag carriers are scattered throughout it seems like basically the entirety of what could be called LATAM is now part of either LATAM or Avianca.

The only way to tell LATAM planes' airline of origin is by looking at the flag near the front and/or the registration, if you happen to know the registration codes for its member countries off the dome.

LATAM operates across six (formerly nine, including a cargo branch in Mexico) countries. It is the dominant airline in Chile, Ecuador, Paraguay, and Perú, and is the largest international airline in Brazil. Its branch in Colombia is outshone by Avianca, but that doesn't really matter, not to me. What matters is that five countries have no flag carrier, and isn't that weird and unnerving and sort of...bad?

This is a very baseless silly claim that means nothing, but it feels like LATAM (and Avianca, sort of) are trying to be the flag carrier of Latin America. And that's a terrible, worrying thing, given that this is an entire region of the world full of diverse countries which should have their own carrier, even if they're part of a larger international holding company. It's normal for airlines to purchase stakes or even majorities in other airlines when they're struggling financially, but it's almost the opposite of this. When Delta offered to buy a stake in JAL it felt like it was almost with the intent to preserve the JAL brand, and this is the norm. There's a reason we still have Brussels Airlines and Austrian Airlines and [whatever your guess on the questionnaire was] instead of Lufthansa Belgium, Lufthansa Austria, and Lufthansa Switzerland. Even Lufthansa gets to claim superiority over LATAM.

So when I discuss the Star Alliance Test, I am talking about something incredibly silly. It's already a little absurd when talking about carriers that are actually members of Star Alliance, and becomes moreso when talking about ones that aren't. But if I happen to discuss a carrier in Latin America, saying "I think it would be a mercy to their livery to be absorbed into LATAM" is possible. It's terrifying. The LATAM test is scarier than even the SmartLynx test by nature of what it represents.

...but is the livery bad, though?

Yes it is!

To be clear, philosophically speaking LATAM deserves an F. This livery should not exist because of what it does to other carriers. But I'll be rating it neutrally of that, much like the alliance liveries. This is the point of my blog.

This was introduced in 2015, which really seems to be the turning point from detached tail to minimally-attached tail. Sure, it was one of the earliest adopters of this, but that doesn't make me respect the bare minimum much more. It has the same problem nearly every implementation of this does, where it looks totally adequate on shorter planes but hilariously bad on longer ones.

This livery in particular is begging for an extension because of this really pretty ribbon-wrapping effect. Why does everything just cut off abruptly at the same point? Why doesn't more of the grey bleed to the main fuselage? Why doesn't that nice blue ribbon keep going? Literally what is stopping you other than convention? Why is the entire underside white except for that tiny little logo, located weirdly high and small where nobody will ever see it?

LATAM has this fantastic color scheme, a beautiful combination of fuchsia and midnight blue which looks stunning on the light cool grey they've chosen for the tail. And they blew it all on a tail-only livery with a mainly white body. They didn't even put it on the nacelles. I'm very exhausted.

The entire livery is centered around this logo. It's approximately the shape of South America and admittedly very nice-looking. I like that the logo almost looks like a descender while the wordmark is above the windowline, but these sorts of little details are absolutely nothing when your plane is a big long white tube with a nice-looking tail transplanted on from a better livery.

LATAM's livery gets a D+.

And this is what we've lost so much to get. LAM, TAN, AIRES, SAETA...we are nearing a dark future where airports across Latin America are just lines of white planes, a thin line carved out by pretty tails cut off before their time.

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willowbird · 1 year

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It’s fully possible that after reckless/i like it you’ve had quite enough canon Andrew pov, in which case, ignore me, but I’m obsessed with Andrew’s reaction to Neil being grabbed by Ichirou. Like the little hint that he might have ended up in the construction site and disappeared so Andrew never knew for sure what happened, but all you get from Neil pov is Andrew not speaking very much. Anyway, I wondered if you maybe had thoughts?

Your wish = my command. It's like more than a year later but I hope it was worth it!!

Please note that all dialogue was taken directly from The King's Men.

-------

"Hello, Jean," Neil said.

"Go away. I have nothing to say to you." Jean sounded about how he looked. Considering he looked like he'd been on the losing end of a disagreement with a small truck, Andrew had to at least appreciate the thick layer of spite Jean had lathered atop his misery.

"But you'll listen," Neil said, "because I just told Ichirou where you are."

What the actual, absolute fuck. Beneath the bruises, Jean's pallor had gone a gray shading on green. Kevin had stopped breathing altogether - and Andrew had to trust that he eventually started up again because as Neil started to explain his encounter with the freshly minted crime lord his attention was otherwise engaged.

Because Neil had gotten into a car with Ichirou Moriyama. Then he had fucking bartered with him.

"It's not a pardon and it's not really freedom, but it's protection," Neil summed up. Andrew had the impulse to wrap his fingers around Neil's throat, to throttle him for being such a spectacular idiot. Thankfully for Neil, sobriety had done wonders for Andrew's impulse control.

Perhaps not quite enough, depending on who you asked, but wonders nonetheless.

"We're assets for the main family now," Neil continued. "The King's lost all his men and there's nothing he can do about it without crossing his brother. We're safe—for good." There was something to be said for the steady vehemence in Neil's voice, the bite when he stated Riko's loss so clearly, the relief that tightened his throat around the word 'safe'.

There was something to be said, but Andrew wouldn't say it. Couldn't. Not even if he wanted to. His brain was still so caught up on the dissonance of the event itself that he couldn't find any sanctuary in the resolution.

He had just gotten Neil back. He had just come back. Beaten and bloody and clinging to the concept of his own identity, Neil had come back and it was supposed to be over.

Except, Andrew knew that wasn't the case. The Moriyamas were involved, so of course it wasn't over. He'd let his relief corrupt him into a false sense of security, and he was almost as pissed off with himself about that as he was with Neil for getting into that fucking car.

Andrew tore his stare away from Neil to the broken birdy on the bed when it made a choked sound only slightly muffled by the press of its hands. Jean. Andrew did not like that he was here, did not like that he had a connection with Kevin, and did not appreciate whatever the fuck was going on with him and Renee. He didn't give a shit what Neil or Kevin attempted to pull, but Andrew drew the line. He already had two numbered exy-complexes to keep track of and he had zero interest in acquiring a third.

Apparently, the conversation was over, because after a long moment of anxious silence perforated by the sharp sounds of Jean's nervous breakdown, Neil slid off the bed and turned toward the door. Thank fuck.

Andrew was closer, so he opened the door and stepped out, then kept walking down the hall with every intention of walking right out the front door to have a cigarette. This shit called for nicotine.

He paused, however, at the light tug of Neil's fingers on his sleeve.

Andrew turned around and studied him for a moment. "How does it feel to sell yourself out?" he asked. He wondered if it had been a difficult decision -- giving up every possibility of taking off ever again. By handing himself over to the Moriyamas like this, Neil was locked in. If he tried to run, tried to become the ghost he was before he joined the Foxes, he wouldn't make it as far as the border before all there was left were bones.

But Neil seemed... unbothered.

"Worth every penny," he said, and Andrew could feel the truth in those words, see it in the set of Neil's shoulders. "Let him have however much he wants. I don't need the money. All I need is what he gave me: a promise that I have a future. I have permission—no, orders—to live my life how I want to. I'm going to graduate from Palmetto State in four more years and play Exy until they force me to retire. Maybe I'll even die of old age."

Andrew almost -- almost -- wanted to laugh. "You sound more like them every day," Andrew said, thinking of how desperately each of the Foxes, including Nicky and Aaron, wanted to claw their way toward normalcy, something he had personally long since given up on.

But Neil didn't take the bait. Instead, he looked him right in the eye and pushed.

"You're going to have to come up with something of your own to hold onto," he said, and Andrew felt the muscles in his face twitch and tense in the direction of a scowl. "I'm safe, Kevin doesn't need your protection anymore, Nicky's going back to Erik eventually, and Aaron's got Katelyn. What are you going to live for if you're not playing sheepdog for us?"

"Aaron doesn't have Katelyn," Andrew snapped before he could help himself, clinging onto the one part of that litany that he had any sort of fucking control over. The one part that unsettled him the least.

"Denial doesn't suit you. We talked about this." Asshole. Why was Andrew always finding himself drawn to the pretty fucking assholes.

"You talked," Andrew said. "I didn't listen." If he were still drugged to high heaven, he probably would have stuck his fingers in his ears and started singing 'lalala I can't hear you!' that was how much he did not want to have this conversation. Instead, he prepared to turn and walk away, hopefully driving the point home that he didn't want to listen to whatever the fuck his stupid junkie was getting at.

But then Neil said, "Choose us."

Choose us.

Andrew stopped, his mouth thinning into a hard line, and attempted to grab the tangled mess of fuckery inside his chest and shove it back down into the pit it started to chisel its way out of probably the very instant he swung that stupid yellow racquet and downed Neil when he first tried to run.

"Kevin's going to retake his spot on Court before he graduates," Neil was saying. He stepped closer, and Andrew noticed that the other man's hand was still clutching at his sleeve. "He thinks I can make the cut with enough practice and time. Come with us. Let's all play in the Olympics together one day. We'd be unstoppable."

It would be an easy thing, to turn this conversation (if that's even what this was) back around and make it a part of Neil's exy fixation. But Neil hadn't said 'play exy'.

He'd said 'choose us'.

He'd said 'come with us'.

A clawed hand broke free from the struggle inside his chest and managed to reach high enough to tighten his throat before he swallowed it back down.

"That's your obsession, not mine," he hissed - and he wondered if his voice sounded rough to Neil's ears too, or if it was a tension only detectable to himself.

"Borrow it until you have something of your own." Neil's grip tightened on Andrew's sleeve when Andrew took a step back and started to pull away. Because fuck this. Fuck him. Fuck all of them. That wasn't how this worked. There was no borrowing, and there was no us. Not unless there was something Andrew had that someone else wanted, and as Neil just said -- Kevin didn't need him anymore, and Neil was finally safe.

So why was Neil still holding on? Why was he still talking? Why was he looking at Andrew like he wanted him to... stay?

"Isn't any of this fun?" Neil asked. "Having a place, having a team, a different city every week and cigarettes and drinks in-between? I don't want this to end."

Andrew jerked his arm and this time his sleeve came free from Neil's tattered grasp. "Everything ends," he ground out -- though whether he was trying to tell Neil this fundamental truth or desperately trying to remind himself, he didn't know. Nor was he at all inclined to stand here and figure it out.

Instead, he took the small box he'd been holding and shoved it against Neil's chest until Neil reflexively lifted a hand to catch it. Then, before he could watch as that... that insufferable menace opened it, he turned and walked away.

He told himself that Neil was being stupid and naive and that he was wrong. That he - Andrew - knew how the worked and what Neil was saying wasn't possible, that Andrew didn't even want it to be possible.

And yet... and yet.

And yet, a part of him had to acknowledge that despite everything he had seen and done and said, despite everything he knew of the world... he wanted it too. Which was the other reason he absolutely could not stay in the hall as Neil opened the package Andrew had shoved at him. He may call Neil an idiot half the time, but Andrew knew that Neil wasn't stupid. He would open the package and when he pulled out the arm bands that Andrew had bought for him... he'd know the truth of what Andrew wanted. He'd know the truth that Andrew wanted.

Which... maybe wasn't a horrible thing, but it didn't mean Andrew had to like it.

#aftg #aftg fanfic #andreil #neil josten #andrew minyard #my writing #asks #canon scene

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beneathashadytree · 2 years

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Ahh i saw ur mirko fic and i just had to request! If this request doesnt work then you can ignore this!

okay so college AU !

Mirko has a best friend shes sleeping over with and shes in love with her best friend, and when theyre asleep she just has her chance and starts smoother them in affection and small smooches until they wake up leading them to a makeout session? (Kinda suggestive theme i hope thats in the category, if not please do ignore this!) i hope this request does you best!

A little add on! No need to put it in but its optional as long as your comfortable!

Can you make the gn!reader have some sort of style related to grunge masc? But the reader goes by they/them! And is like the tomboy in the friendship, but if this doesnt make you comfortable write it however you want! (2/2)

“FRIENDS”? - MIRKO/RUMI USAGIYAMA X READER

Warnings : college AU, this could count as dub-con seeing as the reader is asleep at first, making out, this is not proofread, reader is gender-neutral!

Genre : suggestive fluff

Word count : 0.8K words

Additional notes : Thank you so much for your request! I’m a sucker for the best friends to lovers trope🥰 However, I live in a place where clothes aesthetics aren’t a thing, so I have no idea what grunge masc style is, I’m really sorry🫠 But don’t worry, I’m most comfortable writing for gender-neutral readers using they/them pronouns, as they’re my preferred identities and pronouns irl too! Idk if the tomboy part is obvious, but I tried to make it come naturally. Hope you enjoy this!!💗💗

Requests : Are open! Check the rules over here.

Want to support me financially? Here’s my CashApp!

Masterlist

“And… now we’re done with the skincare routine.” Rumi left the bathroom in her PJs with an excited gait, only to find that her best friend was nestled underneath the covers, snuggled into the pillow and clearly fast asleep. “Did I really take that long?” she whispered, before shrugging and softly padding across the room.

After switching off the lights and carefully crawling in beside them, Rumi couldn’t help but stare up at them in awe. They looked so incredibly peaceful, none of the stress caused by college apparent on their face, all the stress lines gone. It was almost angelic; the way their lips were slightly pouted as they breathed slowly and steadily. Whether that was because they’d been struggling with the massive amount of assignments at this time of year, or because she was just so utterly smitten by them… eitherways, she couldn’t tear her eyes away from them.

‘Lovesick’ was the only way to describe how she looked at her best friend all the time, but they were rather daft when it came to things like this. It was a blessing in the way that they never thought twice about the affection Rumi always gave them, but it was also a curse that her feelings would always go unseen and consequently unreciprocated.

Still, she rather liked the idea of cuddling up to them as she often did. With a happy sigh of comfort, she tucked her head underneath their chin, and if she could purr as she nestled into their chest, she would’ve. Strong arms encircled them, as she tugged them as close as possible. It was rather nice, getting to entwine their legs together and lie like that.

“So fucking cute,” she mumbled under her breath as they unconsciously squeezed her back. Cheeks burning red with adoration, Rumi gently pressed her lips against their arm in a small kiss. She waited for a couple of seconds, just to make sure that she hadn’t woken them up. Seeing them still sleeping soundly, she got a little braver, and began to pepper chaste, innocent kisses all over any place her lips could reach—their arm, their shoulder, their collarbones, and even their chin.

As she courageously left a soft, open-mouthed kiss against their neck, the hand that had been clutching her waist tightened, as a deep sound escaped their throat. Rumi froze, red eyes blown wide as they shifted in her arms.

“Quite the daring bunny, aren’t you? I don’t remember this being a thing friends do.” Their voice was a little gruff and scratchy with sleep, but it still sent Rumi’s heart fluttering in her chest and a warmth blooming in her tummy.

Her momentary shock was quickly replaced by the urge to tease them even more. Damn it; she was so hopelessly in love with them.

“Don’t act like you don’t like it. You latched onto me the moment I got under the covers.”

With a lazy grin that had her blushing furiously, their fingers tipped her chin upwards, the challenging look in their eyes kindling the raging fire inside of her.

“Wouldn’t dream of lying. But I’ve got to one-up you this time.”

And before Rumi could process what was happening, their soft lips were on hers, stealing her breath away. She stilled for a moment, before she melted into the kiss and allowed herself to be swept away. Firm but gentle hands swept over her back, caressing her as the warmth of their tongue invaded her mouth. A shameless moan escaped her, their taste overwhelming her as she arched her back in delight. Tongues enwtined as they passionately kissed, Rumi hadn’t even noticed the way she’d begun squeezing her thighs closed in pleasure.

It was a little messy, with eager hands roaming, teeth nipping deviously at her lips, and sounds of sweet satisfaction escaping them. Rumi felt them all over her and in her, and she couldn’t help but fall in love with this all-consuming feeling, the same way she’d fallen in love with them. Her hands had clutched the front of their shirt, to get some semblance of control over herself, but all rational thought had gotten thrown out the window the moment they moaned into her mouth.

Only when they had to come up for air did they separate—much to both their dismay—and pant heavily in each other’s arms, pupils blown wide and hair askew.

Twisting to lie on their back, they tugged Rumi to sit upright on their lap. A quick glance at the alarm clock on the bedside table reminded her of how late it actually was.

“If we stay up any longer, we won’t be able to wake up for our morning run,” she breathlessly noted, her knees on both sides of their body. A now-familiar mixture of adoration and desire churned in her belly as they smirked up at her, hands firmly gripping her hips in place as she let out an involuntary whine of delight.

“Might as well get some exercise in to make up for that, then.”

Taglist: @thispersoniscrazy @wifeofkyojuro

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