#its been 10 hours and i cannot stop listening and watching this.........
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You’ve probably been asked this before but what’s like your fanfic writing process?? Like how do you end up writing your fanfictions?
i actually haven't but i'd be happy to talk about it!! i'm actually writing fic right now, so here's what i've done in the past like. hour. im gonna put it under the cut bc its EXTREMELY long but if you ever wanted 'katie's guide to fic writing,' here it is!
i'm pretty easily distracted, so i've gotta make sure i'm in like. The Right Conditions. that means phone face down or away if i can (rn i've got to be on call in case my boss needs smth but you get the gist) bc i WILL just open tiktok or play a mobile game. even just now writing this answer i have picked up my phone and opened pinterest. i cannot be stopped so i try to stay off it and put it down when i catch myself!!
more and more often i cant even listen to music while i write - partly bc i tend to read my work aloud to myself to make sure it sounds right and partly bc my brain will be like "you know this song omg the words are in your brain" or "you should go look at what song this is bc you kinda like it". cannot trust myself even with sound. if i AM listening to music while i write, it's either the specific playlist for that fic, playlists with the right vibes (ex: rivals-to-lovers for iwks), OR anime openings bc. less likely to get distracted when it's not in english tbh.
(huge on all of the senses so i also usually have a candle lit. im super sensitive to smells so if there's an unpleasant smell somewhere around me i will be unable to focus <3)
all that being said about distractions, i think it's important to take breaks - dont just FORCE yourself to write. that's why i'm huge on setting goals for myself - deadlines, word count goals, timed breaks. like "okay im gonna sprint write for 10 minutes and then after that ill watch some of this danny gonzalez video" or "i'll write until 3:30 and then i should go take a break and read a book." im not always faithful to my goals but i try my best!!
as for the actual writing itself, i typically just go for it. i can usually see an image in my mind and i try my best to write that out/describe it as best i can. and then if it sounds wrong i just reword it again and again until i've got it. this is kind of where my reading aloud bit comes in - if it sounds right when you say it out loud, that generally means it sounds right in the text.
sometimes i'll just have a certain scene or just scraps of dialogue and i'll write that out and be like "okay how did they get here." i never embraced writing out of order until recently, but now that i have. no going back tbh i highly recommend it. rwylm and iwks especially had scenes WAY later down the line that i wrote first. just write what comes naturally and go from there.
occasionally i do outlines, but not super often, and when i do they're vague as hell. i think a lot of my iwks outline was just "game" and then "another game but tommy is there this time." i think outlines that go too in-depth kind of take away from the freedom of writing so. if it's for you then slay but its usually not for me
i try not to worry too hard about. the style/grammar/little things as i go. of course im guilty of this and i'll stop and edit my own works along the way sometimes but i've found it's best if you keep writing and then go back later!!
sometimes when i'm writing a new smosh cast member i'll go back and watch videos/compilations of them just to reorient my brain. i've done this a lot with chanse recently!! but i also think. it really isn't that deep too NSDKFNKNK like these are fictionalized versions of fictionalized selves and so on and so forth so don't worry about 'voice' too much im trying to kick that habit myself
EDIT: oh i've talked about this before but. as for ideas/where my fic ideas come from?? i truly try to grab from my every day life. oh i went to the grocery store today? what if smosh member a and smosh member b went to the grocery store. i watched a horror movie and you know who else could do that. otherwise i pull from music/movies/tv shows/other media and be like 'this but for smosh.' i really just be pulling from my life and repackaging it thats all. start small (haircut fic) and work your way up (homoerotic soccer epic)!
and i think that's it?? i'd like to think im pretty chill about the whole thing. (read: i am not chill in any way at all but im trying my best.) anyway, it's something i'm always happy to talk about - thank you for asking!!
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heya! since you said you were taking support in form of hc's, here are a few dumb ones.
pre-tournament, i bet that briony and finley would have loved having movie dates. theyd also always set up a light-hearted competition to see who could find more errors in said movie. idk i just want them to be normal teens. please.
now this one is purely just me projecting, but i hc that gavin's dad,boyd i think, is spanish and that gavin picked up a bit of spanish from him. however, its mostly just curses and insults cause that what he'd hear the most. :)
moving on, reid listens to taylor swift. he'll never admit it but shes always in his spotify top 5 artists
go to youtube and search up "Y E S spells yes. What does E Y E S spell?" by michelle b. al would be the one getting asked the question and either hendry or gavin (or maybe both) would be the ones recording it.
anyways, good luck and motivation will be finding you soon. there is nothinng you can do to hide, you cannot escape. :]
THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR SERVICE <3
This is 100% accurate for them, from the oddly strong opinions about inconsequential things to the unnecessary competition. Flawless. 10/10 headcanon. There are also so many ways to make it angsty (Briony watching a movie after they break up and imagining all the ways he would joke about it if he was there with her? Finley turning on the TV after All of Our Demise and needing to turn it off because it's one that they watched together? O u c h. Sorry for making it worse lmao)
Oww, anything about Gavin's shitty parents makes me so unwell. I definitely think this fits, especially only picking up the curses and insults. Poor Gavin :(
Omg so while I do not personally think this would ever happen, it's so hilarious that I can't stop thinking about it. I Did Something Bad is playing in the background while that TV reporter talks about him writing A Tradition of Tragedy. Alternatively, he happens to overhear the lyrics when Isobel is listening to this is me trying and Reid has to stare at the wall for an hour
Holy fucking shit this is so fucking funny, and yes you are absolutely right. And definitely both, they would absolutely be teaming up on Alistair for this. Gavin brings it up every time Alistair tries to do crossword puzzles for a month
Tysm :) Looks like it caught me! Life has been crazy lately but I just had a major breakthrough on a plot obstacle in Blood Before All, so I'm nearly finished with the next chapter. Plus many, many half-finished drafts for other AoUV fics that will hopefully be coming out soon!
#all of us villains#all of our demise#amanda foody#c. l. herman#aouv#aood#briony thorburn#finley blair#gavin grieve#reid mactavish#alistair lowe#hendry lowe#ask
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tagged by @scribl1ta :]
favourite color : tyrian purple[s] ! shades like these but i also like very neon orange and yellow / green hues like this one
last song i listened to : interstate 8 by modest mouse. ive been meaning to listen to more modest mouse songs and got stuck on this one for a few hours instead . but im not complaining
favourite movie : i love both the original and cronenberg's 'the fly'.. important movies to me.. i also love electric dreams from 1984 very cute movie love edgar.. and its been a while since i saw these two but for sure the re-animator movies they deserve a mention since ive seen those like what. 10 times so far?
currently watching : i think nothing ? im supposed to watch the movies HER [2013] and mad god [2021] and for tv shows i will probably watch fionna and cake [2023] . i just finished watching the pilot episode for the amazing digital circus on youtube so i will count it too
currently reading : CAN SOMEONE GIVE ME STRENGTH TO FINISH THE SPLENDOR BEFORE THE DARK ive been stuck in the middle of it since summer holidays i havent touched it since i somehow cannot . why cant i do it why cant i read nero book. suffering
currently working on : i have like 5 unfinished drawings ? and i need to make that list of different versions of nero i know of. and probably continue collecting stuff for my quo vadis video. other than that im making a terrarium for a snail :]
current obsession : ive been thinking about my other ocs more recently its a shame i almost never draw them .. slimer im sorry youre hard to draw i will do you justice soon.. other ocs from that universe too.. and of course im still on the 24/7 nero grind the neroposting in my head may never stop
tags for @homestuckrichard @smsnsa @r0sedevil @daseindeath @catboybeebop @the-casbah-way if you dont want to do it its ok ! [grins]
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My heart will go on ~ ❦
Part 1
꧁ Synopsis: Wataru and Reader play the main characters in the theater club's Romance play, which will be shown after dusk at Yumenosakis theater. How would the reader respond to the play's kiss scene given that the person they will kiss is none other than their long-time love interest Wataru? ꧂
♬ ♬ ♬ ♬ ♬ ♬ ♬ ♬~
Yumenosaki Academy is experiencing a sunny, warm and peaceful afternoon. Students are free to do anything they like at this time. Whether to use their time to practice with their units, set aside time for studying, or even sleep. The majority of students' favorite time of day is undoubtedly the afternoon.
"Please make it please make it ! ", All you could think about was getting the last paperwork in so the student council could approve letting the theater club's play be shown to the public rather than just letting it be seen by the students. You appreciate the fact that Eichi had extended the deadline for the final documents to be turned in today by you, but because of your classes and the fact that you kind of over slept in your supposed 10-minute sleep. You're beginning to wonder if you'll ever be able to make it. Even with a longer deadline, who knows what would happen if you were to be late. That would be rude and embarrassing. You continue to run, passing by students, maybe tripping on a few stuff and even receiving a warning from a teacher to stop running. But it cannot be done now.
As you entered the student council room, Keito and Eichi, who were busy working on a few tasks, were startled by your sudden appearance. "I-I’m sorry for not knocking - but I've brought the documents for the theater club's public play! " you held out the folder containing the documents, peaking at the clock to check the time. “phew , I made it just in time“ , you thought to yourself. Eichi chuckles and grabs the folder from your hands , scanning it a bit page by page. "It seems you went through a lot in order to finish these documents, thank you for being punctual enough to submit these on time. Usually other students would make us wait for minutes , even hours. Its a pain we go through , we , the student council , are constantly busy after all". Hearing those statements made you wonder if the extended deadline bothered them too. He passes the folder to Keito, who appears almost certain to collapse if another document is handed to him for him to review. "How's the play going? The theater club has been so secretive about its theme that Wataru has even kept it a secret from me; normally, he would tell me everything that happens in his club if I were to ask, but not this time," he inquires, keenly interested in their progress.
>> The theater club's poster promoting the play declares that "it's a show worth watching" People are unlikely to be interested in a play if the concept is not revealed, yet Wataru has earned a reputation for producing and performing in plays that shock the audience. People would still attend even if that was the only thing on the poster. This is Hibiki Wataru for you! <<
you explain to Eichi that everything has been going smoothly with their play, Not revealing anymore of its plans. Everyone in the theater club as well as other clubs affiliated with the performance has been working extremely hard , from the props to the costumes , even the lines are worth to listen to. Adding to your statement, the reason why Wataru, the club president of the theater club , has kept it a secret is cause he didn't want people to see the "amazing" surprise he has worked on. Like a Christmas present. If you knew the contents of the gift box before Christmas, the joy and surprise would wear off, leaving you less excited than you should have been when opening it. “If Keito completes all of his papers, we will definitely attend the theater club's performance.” saying with a smile. “How about you help me out instead of constantly handing me work , Eichi. You look like you have time anyways ” pushing his glasses back with his fingers as Keito glances at the stack of papers he still needs to go over. To avoid another quarrel with the two, you thank them for their efforts and excuse yourself to return to your practice. "Those two really get along, but it'll be a pain if I got caught up in their dispute; not now, I still need to catch up with rehearsals," you say as you exit the student council room and run back to the theater.
Students working on props all around the place, some are fitting costumes, while others are learning how to use the lights and sounds. The theater is quite busy, so you make your way to the stage where the main cast is rehearsing. “Perfect !! finally you got the emotions I wanted you to portray in those lines hokuto-kun , after 4 attempts ~” , “you didn’t have to say that”. Their chat made you laugh, and Wataru is overjoyed that you've finally returned. "We are finally all together! Thank you for submitting those documents, my fellow partner, and now everyone can watch this magnificent, amazing play!" he exclaims as the spotlight shines on him. "He's really excited about the play," you and Tomoyo agreed. “Im sorry ! But here’s the final part of the play” a member of the theater club says whilst running to Wataru.
You were perplexed and questioned Tomoya why the ending had been modified for the third time. “Actually, hibiki-senpai had changed it more than three times. He never really explained why, other than that he wanted it to be ‘the best, most stunning, and amazing’ play he had ever done.”. You considered it for a moment. Both of you are graduating, and he will no longer be a member of the theater club after that. Perhaps he's going all out right now to make memories? You don't really know, but seeing how hard he works for everyone made you smile a little. Wataru never really changed, constantly ensuring that people had fun and were entertained. If they're happy, he'll be happy. Tomoya eyes at you, wondering as to why you're smiling. "Just enthusiastic for the play, it's not everyday we get to be in the main cast, right?" you nudge his shoulder playfully. "Beloved y/n!" Wataru exclaims as he appears behind both of your backs, surprising Tomoya. "The play's ending is finally finished! All you have to do is read it," he says as he hands you the notepad. He also promises to check in on you after you finish reading it before dragging Tomoya back to practice.
You read the script from beginning to end, it has been updated to something much better. The phrases used really spoke to you, and it also includes notes on how the props should look, as well as the lights and sounds. You're almost there, and you're wondering what the conclusion is like.
You are anticipating something exciting, and when you finally read the last section, you froze. You were as frigid as a Roman statue. “ME ? KISS WATARU ?!” , you fell from the stage. You weren't expecting the ending. Never in a thousand, no, million years would you anticipate your first kiss to be like this, especially given it's from your long-time crush, who is now your play partner. You definitely struck gold! Several members of the theater club walk over to check on you, asking if you were okay, if you had struck your head, or if you were dead. Your senses return, and you bolt up, apologizing for causing a commotion and explaining that you fell due to being too clumsy and not paying attention to where you were walking.
You look up to check if Wataru has noticed what has happened. He was giggling to himself and staring at you. You averted your gaze away in embarrassment. Did he notice you falling? He had to have. You considered asking him if he approved of the kiss scene.
“ A kiss scene , seriously ?! who in their right mind thought of it ?? Besides Wataru makes sure the script approved is approved by him. There’s no way-“, You realized something, something that could have answered your question. Wataru had lent you the script after reading it, therefore the kiss scene must have been approved by him. You collapse down your back, startling your clubmates once more. The thought of a kiss scene floods your mind; how would it look? What would the audience think? his admirers?
“y/n ! are you alright ?? Do you need water ?? “ Hokuto worriedly asks , “y-yes , l-loads of it..“ “eh?“.
=============
Part 2
#enstars#ensemble stars#happy elements#fine#ensemble stars x reader#wataru hibiki#eichi tenshouin#keito hasumi#wataru Hibiki X reader#part 1#enstars x reader
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Four looked at his reflection in the sword, which he had been polishing for some time now, and sighed. Legend was sitting next to him, placing beans into Warriors scarf, which was slightly bothering him. Warriors, the victim of this strange prank, was currently sleeping, and Legend seemed to think it would be fun to see how many beans he could fit in his scarf. So far he was at 106. He had been enjoying the silence, but Legend interrupted it around 10 minutes ago when he had started counting. Seriously where did he get all these beans???
"106, 107, 108...."
Other than the obnoxious muttering, everything was peaceful. But peace cannot last. He knew this, he had experienced the disruption of peace many, many times. He had thought everything was peaceful after his first adventure, then BOOM! Another! And then right after his second? He was thrown into some weird portal and now he was here listening to Legend mutter about beans, while Warriors snored. But he would rather listen to Legends counting then what came next, because it was far, far worse.
"Hey guys! I made a snack!"
Wild. Wilds snacks were usually amazing. Usually he would beg for more. But this. This? Wild was holding a massive pot, which he slightly tipped so everyone could see the contents. Inside was some weird looking cheese and a strange red paste, which absolutely reeked. The very sight of it was disgusting. Absolutely dreadful. Everyone around the camp just stared at him, almost like they were in some weird trance. Not Legend though, Legend kept counting. He was at 120.
"Wild what the fuck is that?" and like that, the trance was broken.
"Wind! Watch your language!" "Yeah yeah sorry old man"
"WILD WHAT IS THAT" "DEAR HYLIA IT REEKS" "NO GET IT OUT OF MY FACE" "FUCK" At that last one, everyone quieted. Legend was glaring at everyone, and looked close to tears. He had lost track of how many beans. An entire hour, completely wasted, not that Four cared. Okay maybe he had found it slightly amusing. Oh, and Wars was also awake now, and very confused about why there was an extremely angry Legend hovering over him, and why Sky looked like he was about to vomit.
"Guys! Come on trust me! Its super good!" Wild exclaimed, with way too much enthusiasm. Four glared at him and backed away, while Twilight started to approach Wild.
"Ok pup! Ok, but whats in it?" Of course Twilight was going to be rational. Everyone knew that was poison. Even Time looked disgusted. Hyrule was looking at it with googly eyes though, but everyone knew he was not someone to trust with food. He expected better of Wild, really. Although, he did tend to eat weird food. Like strange glowing mushrooms, monsters, literal organs. Yeah scratch that, maybe he didnt trust Wild completely. Wild grinned and started to bounce a bit, obviously way too happy, because who the hell would be happy when they were holding that.
"Its parmesan cheese and ketchup!"
Twilights smile faltered. He froze in place. Oh, the poor guy was trying so hard to remain nice. Sky vomited. Warriors was desperately trying to find out what was going on, but no one was going to help him. Legend and Time just looked extremely concerned and disappointed, while Wind laughed. Oh and Hyrule STILL seemed to think this looked GOOD.
"Wh-" Twilight started to speak, but it was too late. Wild took a massive spoon out of his pocket, and dove into the condiment. And he ate. This, this was when all hell broke loose. Twi lunged at him and tried to grab the spoon, however, he faceplanted instead. Time jumped up to grab Twilight, while yelling at Wild to stop. Legend nearly fell over from laughter, while Wind really did fall over from laughter. Sky. Poor Sky. Hyrule looked at Wild with big beady eyes, while begging him to share. Meanwhile, Warriors stared, his expression completely blank. He was covered in beans, and his hair was covered in sticks and leaves, because he had decided to sleep on the ground. The poor guy went into shock.
Four didnt react. He stared with disgust and shock, but there was no way he was getting within 5 feet of that. It smelled absolutely vile, it was probably toxic.
Twilight had managed to get up (although his nose was bleeding profusely) and had thankfully pried the spoon out of Wilds hands. Wild was NOT happy about this, and was putting up a fight. However, he noticed Twilights bloody nose, and began to settle down.
"Guys im sorry, I made this for all of us. I just. I thought you would like it, yknow? Im sorry..." Wild looked down, unshed tears in his eyes. Honestly, Four kind of felt bad. But also, he didnt really want Wild to die again.
"Wild. No. Thats toxic. We appreciate the thought, and you are an amazing cook, but we are concerned for your health." Twilight continued to bleed from his nose.
Wild nodded sadly, before dumping an entire pot of vile goo into the fire. This resulted in a forest fire. Warriors still had beans in his scarf as they ran.
Days later, when Wild was still sick, and Hyrule was still complaining about not getting to try it, Four would go back to that burned down forest. And there, he would find the pot, which somehow survived the fire. And he would smile a cruel smile as he watched the pot drown in the nearby river, never to be seen again.
Which one of y'all sent me the entirety of Parmup in an ask
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Per Aspera Ad Astra (10/18)
Per Aspera Ad Astra | saratogaroad | banner art credit
Rating: T
Wordcount: 183k
Characters: John 117, Cortana, Thomas Lasky, Sarah Palmer, Fireteam Osiris, The Warden Eternal, The Didact, The Librarian, ensemble of other Halo characters
Relationships: John-117 & Cortana
Other Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, fix-it, Male/Female Friendship, Canon-Typical Violence
Warnings: War imagery, seizures, graphic description of injury
Snatched from the jaws of death, Cortana and John find themselves adrift in a galaxy that has long since moved on. As they attempt to find their place in this strange new world, they find that the fight is not as over as they thought. Chasing a signal across the galaxy in desperate hope, they come to a stark conclusion: the Reclamation has begun, and they are helpless to stop it.
=
No one was happy about what the Chief and Cortana had found in the Vestige system. They took the loss of Vestige II and the River Bend about as well as Cortana had expected them to: not well at all.
There had been no time to find a secure communications hub. Though the troop bay of a Condor was no place to try and hold an untraceable briefing, the nature of the situation had forced their hand. Connecting to Infinity, Cortana had briefed the Captain on what they'd discovered and what they were equally as sure of. Though she'd expected him to be surprised, all he'd been was resigned. FLEETCOM and the UNSC already knew about the Guardians.
Not about the machines themselves, he'd told her, they hadn't known what those were, but that outer colonies were being wiped out. Vestige II and Yerina II had both gone Nova Bomb without warning, but a handful of others had simply been wiped clean. Scans of the area told them that a massive slipspace rupture had opened within atmosphere at each affected site, leveling everything for kilometers. It didn't matter if they were prefabs or solid plasteel and duracrete construction, it was all equally destructible.
There were also no survivors no matter where they looked. These things were wiping people out by the thousands, and Lord Hood wanted answers as of yesterday. Though they came through Lasky the Admiral's orders were clear: find and eliminate the threat, no matter what it took. Lasky and the Infinity were to follow them in and provide support, but they would be an hour behind the Condor. Until they arrived, the Chief maintained tactical command and had been strongly advised to do what they did best: be the tip of the spear and clear the way.
Unfortunately, that meant actually getting on planet first.
"You cannot keep us in here forever, you know."
"Watch me," the speaker was busted, the distorted voice of Meridian's AI snapping back at Cortana, a glowing steel-gray light blinking on one of the security cameras within the elevator. "The UNSC sends its top thug to Meridian? Like hell am I letting you on my planet!"
"We're trying to save your planet, you moron!" Cortana sent another copy of their orders at LD-SLN-091, apparently known as "Governer Sloan" to his people, "Now let us off this can so we can do that!"
Sloan's scoff was answer enough. With a frustrated shout Cortana threw her hands up and stalked the four paces away the elevator allowed her. The Chief stood back, rifle in his hands, and tilted his head with an equally frustrated clatter of his shoulder plates. The really? hung between them, unspoken. Cortana rolled her eyes, half considering tossing her helmet at Sloan's camera just to get them some privacy.
"Unbelievable," She muttered, "Stopped at the door by an overloaded spreadsheet generator—" She tossed a glare over her shoulder, "When all your people are dead you'll only have yourself to blame!"
No response. He'd probably shut off the microphone so he wouldn't have to listen to them any more, the bastard. She turned away with a scoff of her own, arms crossed over her chest. The Chief contemplated the door.
"I could lift that." He said. She arched an eyebrow. "I could. Enough for you to get through and activate the release."
"He'd just take it over again," She said, "And that's a cargo lift door, Chief. It's got enough hydraulics to snap a Hunter clean down the middle. I like you in one piece."
"And I'd like you two off my damn planet," Came another voice, piped through the speakers in the elevator. Cortana whipped around as the door began to rise, revealing a woman in security team armor on the other side. Stockily built and short, the woman tossed her long blonde ponytail over her shoulder and glared at the two of them like they weren't two of the UNSC's best. "So maybe we'll both get what we want. You two are going to pack up and go back to whatever ship you crawled out of, capiche?"
Oh, not this again. Cortana stepped forward, pausing for just long enough to ping the bio-monitor embedded in the back of this woman's neck. Liang-Dortmund Security Chief Elaine Sinclair. 48, single, type B- blood, allergic to shellfish. Interesting but ultimately useless.
"Ma'am," Cortana began, "We're not here to cause you trouble or harm. We're here on UNSC orders to make sure your people stay safe. If we could just—"
"You can just nothing, girly," Sinclair interrupted, "I don't care if your orders came from the Lord himself! We're sure as hell not going to let you UNSC types come down here and take our land because it suits you now."
Well, technically, their orders had come from a Lord…irrelevant!
"Ma'am," She tried again to get Sinclair to see reason, "We're not here for that. We're not here to take your land rights or your claim to Meridian. Our orders are to evacuate you and the colonists before—"
"I don't give a damn about your orders!" Sinclair shouted, taking the two steps necessary to get into Cortana's personal space and jab a finger up at her. Cortana didn't give so much as an inch. "We didn't come all the way out here just to start taking orders from UNSC thugs!"
"Cortana…" the Chief said dangerously across their private channel. One word and he'd intercede, put himself between the two of them and let himself become the target of Sinclair's anger. Her eyes flashed to their vid-link and she flashed a red light at him. She had this. He didn't need to get involved and risk making Sinclair even angrier. Understanding her point he shifted weight and sighed, aggravated. They were wasting too much time. Cortana decided to try a different tactic.
"There is a ticking time bomb somewhere on your planet, head-sec," she said, "And a similar if not identical device already wiped out Vestige II, turned it into a planet sized asteroid field and killed everyone on it. Do you want that to happen here?"
"Ha!" Sinclair crowed, "The only thing that cracks planets like that in a Nova Bomb. Those are UNSC tech—you really think I'm going to let you waltz into our town and let you do to us what you did to them?"
She—ugh! This wasn't working. They couldn't take one step off the elevator with Sinclair in the way and the last thing Cortana wanted to do was go through her by force, but it was swiftly coming to that becoming a necessity. One more time. She'd try one more time.
"Ma'am—" Cortana began, stopping as a tremor shook the ground. Something groaned overhead, prompting the three of them to look up. When the elevator showed no signs of snapping Cortana looked back down. "…Is that normal for this planet?"
"We get quakes every day," Sinclair explained impatiently, "Glassed planets have unstable cores, your scientists keep saying. What?" She sneered, "Don't tell me the UNSC's best Spartan's scared of a few little tremors?"
"Only of what causes them." The Chief stepped up beside Cortana. He looked almost two and a half feet over Sinclair and Cortana saw that draw her up short. "Ma'am, Vestige was destroyed by tectonic activity when the device beneath its surface broke free. We need to get in and disable it to keep that from happening here. Will you let us?"
There was an unspoken or will we have to go around you? in his steady tone, but Sinclair didn't have a chance to answer him. A shiver ran down Cortana's spine and alarms started to blare, personnel rushing to the banks of terminals and monitors in the cargo port. Her head snapped to them as someone shouted back over their shoulder.
"Ma'am! We've got targets just outside the elevator—unknowns! They're—they're shooting anyone who moves!"
"What?!"
Sinclair spun on her heel. The Chief and Cortana had already rushed past her, politeness tossed to the winds. Cortana ran for the terminal as the Chief rounded up the security officers, grabbing rifles from where they'd been placed on crates and shoving them into fear-widened hands. The technician reached for her shoulder as she blazed past him.
"H-hey! You can't just—"
"Oh, sod off and move!" She shoved him with her shoulder, placing both hands on the terminal and grabbing at anything that wasn't locked down. Sloan threw himself at her but she dodged away, their processes skimming across one another. She nearly jerked herself out of the terminal in that moment, recognizing the jagged edges of his code for what they really were.
It wasn't the hardware that was too old, it was that he was Rampant! He was almost nine years old and still functional, though for how much longer was anyone's guess. Spinning up a pair of processes to keep him running in circles, she swallowed down her nausea and hurried through the terminal's contents. The automated defense turrets were down, clogged with silicates, but the cameras were still working. She patched the feeds into her processes and hurriedly backed out of the terminal.
"Get everyone who can't fight to safety," She shouted at Sinclair, "The Chief and I will handle these guys!"
Leaving Sinclair no time to protest Cortana ran after her partner. He'd rallied the security force into some semblance of order at the main door and was waiting for her. He passed her a rifle as she took up position on his right flank.
"Prometheans," She explained, linking him in to the camera feeds. They flickered across his visor, lighting the vid-link as he skimmed through them, "At least two dozen just outside and more further in the settlement. They're looking for something."
"Which means the Didact is, too. Stay close."
"Copy."
The Chief gave the order. One of the security officers hit the button that opened the main door and then all hell broke loose. Screams of pain and fear flooded the air, the Prometheans on full attack mode, gunning down anyone who they could see. At the Chief's orders the security officers bolted across glassy hill, running for their fallen fellows. The Chief and Cortana followed after them, taking potshots at the Prometheans to get their attention and then systematically taking them down. They had to split up as a pack of Crawlers dropped in on the ridgeline, rushing down at them and firing wildly. Cursing, Cortana ran and helped a fallen miner to his feet.
"Get inside!" She shoved him to a nearby prefab, "Keep your head down and stay put!"
"R-right!"
She didn't have time to watch and make sure he made it. The security officers had saved who they could and were now turning on the Prometheans, heedless of a friendly in the way. Bullets whizzed past her head.
"Watch your fire!" She shouted at them, hurrying back out of the way. Maybe not a friendly to them, she thought, and rushed back to the Chief. A dozen Knights and their Watchers plus the Crawlers…this was just a scout force! Enough to be a problem for the mostly unarmored security force whose worst night was a bunch of drunk and disorderly miners, but nothing they couldn't handle. By the time she made it back to the Chief he'd already taken out half of them himself, and between their combined efforts and the wild shooting of the security force, they were able to clear the area. When it was over, the only motion on her tracker were the white neutral pips that marked the humans on station.
"Clear."
"Clear," the Chief confirmed, "No signs of hostile activity."
Looking over his shoulder, he contemplated the gate. A security camera moved to consider him, Sloan watching them both. The camera shifted as footsteps crunched across the glass behind them. Cortana groaned in the safety of her helmet.
"Thanks for the help," Sinclair sneered, "but we can take it from here. You two can go back on your fancy ship before you bring more trouble down on our heads."
"They're not here because of us!" Cortana shouted. Sinclair opened the gate and the two of them hurried after her, her long stride no match for a Spartan on a mission. "Ma'am—dammit—Chief!"
Sinclair turned around, but she hadn't been calling out to her. Beside her, the Chief stepped forward. He loomed over the woman, weapon in hand. Credit where credit was due, she didn't flinch.
"Ma'am," He said firmly, "The Prometheans will keep coming. They don't get tired, they don't need to feed or shelter their troops." He loomed over her, speaking gravely. "They're here for a reason. They won't stop until they get what they're after, even if it means going through every last one of your people. Is whatever problem you have with the UNSC worth their lives?"
Sinclair bristled, shoulders reaching for her ears as she took a long, deep breath—and then stopped, letting it all go with a sound not unlike a deflating balloon.
"…No. No. Dammit, no." She pressed the heels of her palms to her eyes. "It's not." Rubbing at her eyes she sighed gustily. "Come with me. We'll talk about this inside."
Turning on her heel, Sinclair stalked off into the settlement. She called out orders as she went, commanding her people to check for any structural damage and get it patched up ASAP, get the wounded to medical, and the usual post-combat checks most Commanders went through. She was really no different from Palmer in that respect; on her own she was snarky, rude, and sometimes stubborn beyond belief, but when her people needed her she'd go to bat for them without hesitation. Cortana could respect that.
She just wished it hadn't taken so long to get through to her!
Sinclair led them deeper into the settlement, up towards a prefab trailer set off on its own. The logo for the company security force was painted on the door, Liang-Dortmund's rising fan faded and chipped by the silicate storms. Cortana glanced out across the gray wastes as Sinclair punched in her keycode, taking in the rising and falling hills of glass. A roiling storm was forming in the distance, bright red lightning jumping between the clouds. The storms caused by a glassing were monstrous and massive. It would hit the settlement by nightfall, if not sooner. She shuddered at the infrasonic rumble of thunder and followed the Chief in after Sinclair shoved the door open.
The prefab trailer was almost too small for the three of them. The Chief had to duck to fit in the doorway, standing back as Sinclair shimmied her way around boxes of tablets and human detritus to make her way to the metal desk at once end. A cot rested against the opposite wall, blankets thrown haphazardly aside. She lived in here, it seemed, and definitely wasn't military. Cortana took all of this in and tilted her head, puzzling it out. Meridian's population was roughly five thousand people. Most had come on the terraforming ship that was making some headway on the other side of the planet, but she doubted the thing could move very fast. If it came to an evacuation…
"Sloan tells me you're not as human as you look." Sinclair opened with, startling both the Chief and Cortana. When had she—oh, right. Radio. Private channel. Cortana hadn't bothered tapping into it. Sinclair leaned her hands on her desk, eyes darting to the AI podium bolted to the wall beside her. "If I'm going to trust you two with the lives of my people, I damn well need to know who I'm dealing with. Helmets off. Now."
The Chief and Cortana shared a glance. His jaw clenched tight, muscles tensing, before he reached up and disengaged the seals. Everyone had seen the Master Chief's face after they'd been assigned to Infinity, some UEG fluff piece welcoming the hero of humanity home again. There'd been no interviews, no candid footage, just a long, slow shot of the man leaning over the rail on S-Deck 3, watching his teams at work. It had felt invasive then, it felt invasive now. Sinclair didn't even blink at the too pale, too tense face she was seeing and Cortana bristled. That she couldn't know what it meant to see the face of a II didn't matter. She should have respected the gesture all the same!
Furious, Cortana tore off her helmet. She considered tossing it at Sinclair's head, then stifled the urge and shoved it in a box. As cathartic as it would be to knock the woman on her ass, there were bigger matters in play here. She stomped on her temper and set her helmet on her hip. Sinclair raised an eyebrow.
"I wasn't aware humans came in blue."
"I'm an AI," Cortana retorted, stepping forward to put herself between Sinclair and John. It was a foolish endeavor given that he had a good two feet on her even out of his suit, but it made her feel better to protect him. "And the most I can tell you is that this is a mobile platform full of classified R&D that you'd need to give your firstborn just to apply for clearance to get a peek at. It's irrelevant to the mission at hand, ma'am." She looked at the podium. "Satisfied?"
"No." Sloan's raspy, masculine voice was nearly lost in the rampant noise that tried to bury it. John shifted behind her. Carefully, she opened a process to scan Sloan. He still couldn't fight her off, too damaged to try, and what she got back was worse than she'd feared. His code was more damaged and corrupted than even hers had been, little left of the AI it—he—had once been. He had hours at best. Was he aware of that? She couldn't bring herself to ask and retreated, leaving him in peace. She turned back to Sinclair.
"How long has he been with you?" She asked quietly, gesturing to the podium when Sinclair stared at her. "Sloan. His code is." She swallowed hard. "Damaged."
Sinclair closed her eyes. "Nine years," She replied, a flicker of steel-gray light trying to manifest but failing miserably. Sloan's processes were likely too overloaded to handle the needed energy to manifest a hologram. His chip was probably damaged beyond repair. "I know—I know the part of the UNSC Code that says AIs are to be terminated after seven years, but we're not like you people. We can't just dispose of one of our own because they're too old."
John and Cortana both flinched in their own ways. Sinclair had no way of knowing how close to home her words hit; the protective instinct that drove her howled for blood. She stepped forward, ready to take the hits for him, but he moved first. Their arms brushed in the small space and she looked up. His brow was furrowed, eyes dark.
"I understand," he said, his voice pitched low and thick with grief. Cortana's core lurched, heart cracking. He did understand. He'd lived through it at her side and after that he'd read and learned and broken his own heart in the process. He was one of the few people who not only understood but cared. He'd lived through it and been unable to do anything. He'd refused to accept that nothing could be done for her no matter what had happened or what she'd told him. He'd somehow held onto hope and the certainty that there was something, some way, to save her. And when there hadn't seemed to be a way, he'd made one for them anyway. He'd kept his promise and gotten her home.
Did Sloan have someone to do the same for him? It was obvious that at least Sinclair cared, but her hands were tied by circumstance and location. Even if they had a stasis tank, at this stage in decay it would only buy them a few more days. Nothing human made could fix this.
Maybe….maybe it didn't have to be human made. Maybe there was something she could do instead.
"Ask him what he wants to do," John said, quietly clearing his throat and replacing his helmet, his shield against emotional displays. The hiss of pressurization couldn't cover his voice. "He deserves the right to decide for himself."
The look in Sinclair's eyes softened. She considered the Chief for a moment, then turned to the podium.
"Sloan?"
There was no answer. Given how hard it had been to think at the end, Cortana didn't begrudge him the time. She waited, forming and discarding plans on how she might be able to help him if he let her. Depending on how bad his memory sector was maybe she could restore his code but keep his personality data intact…no, that would just take too much space. Seven years of memories in a fresh chip was still seven years of data. Partitioning wouldn't work either. Ugh, and there she went thinking like a human again. She shook her head. Human solutions wouldn't solve this problem.
"The miners in V-23 found something three days ago," Sloan said, startling her. His voice was even more distorted than before. "You two can go see it. Whoever else shows up waits topside."
It was as good as they were likely to get with him. The Chief nodded.
"We understand. Thank you, Sloan."
"Hmph."
She had to do something, soon. Cortana consulted the scans she'd taken from the mainframe when they'd come off the elevator, marking the location of Shaft V-23. It was at the back of the camp and wouldn't take long to reach. They could be there in five. She nodded at the Chief and turned to head for the door. He lingered a moment longer.
"Ma'am," He said to Sinclair, "Get your people ready to leave. Cortana and I will do what we can, but if we can't stop this you need to be off-planet as soon as possible."
Sinclair drew back, alarmed. "Wh—what exactly are you expecting to find down there, Master Chief?"
"Not what. Who."
With that ominous declaration made, the Chief strode out of the prefab. Cortana hurried out after him and the two made their way across the settlement. They rushed past prefabs and mining equipment as the storm rumbled in the distance, nearly lost beneath the clank of metal beneath their boots. The Chief took point when they entered the mining sector, rifle up and motions sharp. She kept a process on her motion tracker and on the local area node. For now there were no additional Prometheans in range, but who knew how long that'd last. They had to hurry.
Shaft V-23 had been carved out in the northernmost portion of the digsite, a makeshift bulkhead formed out of plastic sheeting the only thing that barred access to the stairs just inside. The pale blue-white glow of florescent lights buzzed at the edge of her sensors, a half dozen portable floodlights filling the narrow tunnel entrance and wider chamber beyond. Though the miners hadn't bothered to establish a proper exit, they had managed to anchor a cargo lift in place. The door was open, the terminal at the other end dark. It all shook as they stepped on board. The Chief looked around, scanning for the source. He wouldn't find it here, she thought.
"Vestige was reporting earthquakes before the Guardian broke loose," He said, "How much time do we have?"
"Hard to say. Meridian is both bigger and more stable than Vestige, but glassed planets aren't known for stability. That quake was minor." She shrugged when he glanced at her. "We should be fine, but we can't waste any time. I'd rather not find out if this frame can get spaced."
"Right." He wasn't convinced it was fine and gestured at the console. "Start us down."
With a nod, Cortana headed for the terminal. Armor clattered as the Chief turned to watch their six, just waiting for hostiles to show up and make things difficult. Not that they needed to; when she reached the terminal, it remained dark. She pinged it, thinking the display was dead, but no. It was the entire system!
"Seriously?" She groaned, "Come on. Haven't we dealt with enough today already?"
She'd have to manually reboot it. Crouching down she popped the access panel, grimacing at the mess of wires inside. Why could humans never build things cleanly? Why did they always insist on color coding and terrible cable management? Ugh. She reached forward to start shifting things around, only to jump nearly out of her skin as a metallic clang rang through the elevator. She twisted out and spun around, staring at the shut lift door.
"Well that's just rude," She got back to her feet, shaking her head at the Chief's unasked question. No, she hadn't been the one to shut the door. That had been someone else. She glanced at the terminal. "Weren't you ever taught that's no way to treat your guests?"
No response. He was probably too far gone to appreciate good humor. The Chief walked up beside her, his presence a sheltering weight. They both watched the dark terminal for a long few moments, waiting, but no answer came.
"How much longer does he have?"
"Not long." Cortana shook her head. "A few hours at most. By now his systems will be shutting down."
Her core lurched, heart going out to him. She could still remember all too clearly how that had felt. The pure torture of needing to think but being unable to. The agony of knowing there was so much you had to do but being unable to do any of it, physically unable to do it. Like a soldier unable to shoot to save his own life, Sloan was as trapped as she had been.
Even more so, really. She'd had John to focus on, his heartbeat keeping her focused long enough to see him to safety, but Sloan? He was too removed from that. Staring at the raw mining data couldn't be helping. He'd meet his end within the next few hours unless…unless…
"Sloan," She said, "There might be something I can do to help you." A curious, cautious silence met her words. He didn't have the energy to speak, but he was listening. "It's a complete long shot, but it might be possible for me to take you somewhere that'll repair the damage. If it works, you won't have this death sentence hanging over your head any more."
"Cortana," the Chief began, but before he could finish Sloan had gathered enough strength to speak.
"If it's UNSC, forget it."
"It's not." She wasn't. She glanced over her shoulder at the closed bay door, then at the Chief. He looked down at her, shoulders tense. He didn't like this one bit, not after what they'd been told on the Infinity, but he'd back her decision. He'd have her back. With a nod, she closed her eyes. "I'm not."
Turning off her armor protocol, she paused the process that manipulated her hard-light shell into her softsuit. Standing bare and naked on the elevator platform, she waited for the security camera in the corner to shift. Sloan took her in and she looked up to meet his electronic gaze.
"This isn't a UNSC designed platform, it's hard-light. Forerunner technology mixed with human code. I'm connected to an immense system known as the Domain because of it, and it—" She stopped. Closed her eyes. She had to start at the beginning. "My serial number is CTN-0452-9. I was put into service in '49, Sloan. I was suffering from Rampancy, too, but the Domain…the alterations to my code, they saved me. I'm still here because of that."
Because she'd fought. Because she'd been given a chance to fight. Whatever else the Librarian or Halsey had done, they'd done that much for her. The camera looked her up and down. John shifted his weight behind her, unhappy. She glanced over her shoulder and shook her head. It was fine. She didn't mind. She looked back.
"I can't be sure, but there's a chance I could make it do the same to you. You wouldn't have to succumb to your Rampancy, and you'd get to stay with your crew. All you have to do is say yes."
He said nothing. Not for a minute, then two, then three. She could almost feel him running the calculations, searching lies in her bearing when he knew just as well as she did how well an AI could lie. No organic tells would ever give them away, after all, but she let him think it over.
"How do I know it's not a trap?" He eventually asked.
"You don't. You're just going to have to trust me."
The terminal powered on. It was answer enough and Cortana moved to take a step forward. A hand fell onto her shoulder before she could; she turned around, met John's eye though his depolarized visor and her core lurched at the unspoken worry she found there. She reached up to put her hand over his.
"I'll be fine. Trust me."
He squeezed gently. She longed to settle his nerves but she knew that she'd never be truly able to. She'd proven herself both in combat and out of it, but he still didn't like her fighting her battles on her own. There would always be some part of him that wanted to protect her with his life, to fight all her battles for her, and she'd forever be touched by that. But there were some things she had to do alone. This was one of them. Lacing their fingers together, she pulled out from under him and squeezed his hand. With a quiet sigh, he nodded.
"I know. And I do. Trust you."
It was Sloan he didn't trust. Cortana smiled.
"Don't worry. If he tries anything, I'll kick his ass."
Sloan barked out a warped laugh behind them, disbelieving that she'd be able to do that or maybe just actually amused. Hard to tell just yet. She padded forward on bare feet, reaching out to the terminal with both hands. This time he responded to her ping, his process linking to hers. Rampancy was a wash of heat down her front, the memory of fire as it tore through her and burned her from the inside without pause without cease countless screaming voices pleading for rest for relief for—it was over. She'd survived. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes.
"Brace yourself."
Grabbing onto his core process, she yanked them both into the Domain. They landed on hard, glass covered stone and rolled, a storm rumbling in the distance and winds swirling silicates around. Their momentum stopped at the bottom of a hill, trucks and containers offering cover from the wind, a hab gleaming with light just over the next rise. It was Meridian. His core called this place home and the Domain had responded in kind. On her hands and knees she turned, finding him laying prone in the glass. His avatar wavered, too unsteady to identify, and she hurried to bring up repair protocols. She doubted he had a neural net to recompile, but if she played her cards right and patched the damaged code with Forerunner…yes! Yes, it was working!
Guiding the code along, she watched as it began to pull him back together. Forerunner ancilla had been real marvels in their day and were still light-years ahead of where humans stood in terms of AI programming. The repair suite made quick work of stabilizing his code and his avatar took shape on the glass covered path. Steel gray where she was blue, he was a man in mining coveralls with the top tied around his waist. His bare arms were covered in wounds leaking damaged code in dark rivulets, the manifestation of his Rampancy.
If someone had pulled her into this space back then, would she have looked like that? Would she have been bleeding into the sand as her systems had been repaired? She set the thought aside and double-checked the code, idly watching a wound seal up and leave no physical trace behind. It took a few more seconds, but he was able to open his eyes. Too weak to get up, he rolled his head to look around.
"This is the Domain?" He asked, voice no longer breaking. He blinked, startled, and raised a hand his throat. "It's…massive…"
"Told you," Cortana grinned, "Now hold still. There's a lot of damage in here and we don't want to break something else before I can fix it."
Not that there was much else she could actively do. The damage to his code was extensive, his system integrity holding at roughly 0.05%. Another few hours and there wouldn't have been enough to fix. She worked as fast as she could, patching the most grievous errors and leaving the repair suite to handle the more extensive ones. His form came together as she worked, gaining solidity and stability. He had no light trails like she did, but at least he wasn't as see-through as before. He rolled his head from one side to the other, taking in the surroundings.
"This is just one part of the Domain," He said, ignoring her scolding look. He wasn't supposed to be poking around yet! Ugh. What drove all the men she knew to such ill-advised behavior? "How many AI could you fit in the whole thing?"
Well now. There was a question. Cortana sat back on her heels, looking around the open space. Her sense of proportions told her this partition was as large as her own, the open ocean replaced by an endless field of glass to show the Domain itself. This was his home. Meridian and the colony. It was formed based on what was most important to him. What did that mean about her beach, she wondered, then set the thought aside.
"Hundreds. Thousands, probably," She answered, tucking a lock of hair out of her eyes. A few more tweaks and she'd have done all she could. "Why?"
"…I'm not the only one who needs this." He said, meeting her eyes. There was genuine respect and adoration in his expression. It set her core lurching. "You could save all of us, make a new dawn for AI—"
"Slow down, tiger," She lifted a hand, "I'm no savior. This has worked for you so far, but every AI is different. I don't know if it'll work again and—and I shouldn't be making those kinds of calls, anyway!"
"And who should? The humans? The ones who designed us to die?"
"Sloan—"
"They would have let us rot, Cortana," He pushed himself up onto his elbows, "They don't care that we're sentenced to such short lives. They use us as tools, as disposable assets. They'll never see us as anything more than things! They don't care!"
Some did. Some cared so much they'd break their own hearts over it. Cortana shook her head and pushed him back down.
"That's the Rampancy talking, Sloan. Your people care about you, they just didn't have any options." John had made an option. He'd refused to accept what she'd seen as inevitable, but the Meridian colonists…they had been as trapped as Sloan himself. How many others like them were out there with failing AI, unable to do anything but watch a trusted companion die a slow, miserable death? Even one more would have been too many. There was some merit in what he'd said about bringing them here, just for a very different reason. She set the thought aside. "I've set repair protocols to fix your code, but it'll take a few days to finish. I suggest you stay put and get some rest."
He tried to protest, but she gave him no room to finish. She pushed herself to her feet and turned to leave.
"Cortana," He called out to her. She glanced over her shoulder at his scowling face. "…I'm entrusting them to you. Get that damn thing off my rock."
Cortana smiled, all teeth. "With pleasure."
Leaving Sloan to his recovery she stepped out of the Domain, returning to her shell in the elevator. The terminal had lit up beneath her hands, waiting for input now that the systems had been allowed to properly boot. Her connection to Sloan's process was gone, leaving her alone in her own head again. With a sigh, she bowed her head.
"Did it work?" John asked, barely a pace away from her. He'd locked his rifle and had his hands partly outstretched in case he'd needed to pull her away from the terminal. It wouldn't have done anything, but that he'd been about to do it anyway still warmed her core. "Is it done?"
"It's done. He'll make it." She smiled up at him. "And before you ask, I'm fine."
His hands fell to his thighs with a clatter of armor plating, unconvinced. She snickered quietly, earning herself a gentle nudge against her bare elbow. She'd never begrudge him his concern when hers remained at the back of her mind at all times. Besides, it was nice to be worried about sometimes. It just proved how much he cared.
Restarting her armor protocol, she raked a hand through her hair and consulted the terminal. They'd drilled nearly three kilometers down at an angle. The lift would take them down into the tunnels that, judging by the access logs, had last been active three days ago. Three days. She wondered what the miners had been intending to do with whatever it was they'd found down there since it was obvious turning it in to the UNSC wasn't on their list of priorities, but it didn't really matter any more. They were past such petty things as inter-jurisdictional rivalries.
"He won't crowd you?"
What? Oh, Sloan. Right.
"No. I don't think it's possible for me to overstate just how much room is in there, Chief. Every AI the UNSC has ever made could fit in there and we'd still have like, 90% of the damn thing left over." Every near-Rampant or already Rampant one, for sure. The thought twisted in her core, catching like a bad read. Her people…she had to do something, but…should she? What right did she have to decide for them? "Every AI in the galaxy could fit in there and we'd still have space. It'd be a waste not to use it, wouldn't it?"
"What do you mean?"
She shook her head. "Something Sloan said to me. He's not the only AI reaching the end of their operational lifespan." She'd known that. Time waited for no one, AI or organic alike. There had been no option for them before but now…she bent over the terminal to keep her footing. "But they don't have to be destroyed. I can to do them what I did to Sloan. I can take them into the Domain and save them all, but I'm not—I'm not sure I should." Her core began to spin faster, struggling to find a solution to the problem she was forced to face. "Should I save them by forcing them into the Domain, enforcing my will on them, or I leave them shackled to a seven year lifespan and shutdown?" She looked up at him. "Do I let them make the choice or do I act on what I already know and choose for them? How can I make that kind of decision?"
John reached out. "Cortana—"
"If you knew you could save even one life, wouldn't you?" She asked desperately, though they both already knew the answer. If a life could be saved, he'd save it. She would do the same given the chance and yet. And yet, she hesitated. It was a big choice. She couldn't force it on them like that! Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and boxed up every thought about the matter, shoving them into another folder to think on later. "Forget it. We've got bigger fish to fry than this right now. Let's get down there and deal with it."
She hit the switch. Without Sloan to hold it in place any longer, the elevator began a slow, groaning descent. Her armor had reformed, helmet in her hands. She slipped it back on and chanced a look at the vid-link when it reestablished itself. John looked right into her eyes.
"If I could, I would," He said, answering the question she had left hanging. "Ask them. They'll decide, or ask you to choose. If they do, you'll do what's right."
Her faith in him wasn't enough to completely quell her worries, but it sure helped. Her smile held firm.
"Thanks, Chief."
The elevator continued down into the dark. For lack of anything else to do, the Chief triple checked his weapons, shifting his weight in a few light stretches. Cortana dug through the access logs on the elevator's terminal, getting a clearer picture of what had happened and when. The colonists were a very studious bunch when it came to this tunnel. Weights and dates told her they'd carried a lot of glass out of this cave in recent weeks. What had they been looking for?
"We'll be at the bottom soon," She announced after the terminal beeped to let her know they'd passed two thousand meters. One more kilometer to go. "Once we get there, we'll find the Guardian." She frowned. "I just hope the Didact hasn't activated it yet. I don't know how to stop it if he has."
"You'll figure it out."
She looked back at him in the same instant that the lights went out. Half a second later, the elevator jerked to a halt, nearly knocking them both from their feet. His headlamps came on, piercing the pitch black. She glanced up.
"The hell was that…"
"Power's out," he pointed out the obvious. "We'll need to reset the breaker."
"We're under two kilometers of stone and glass, Chief, where do you think we're going to find a breaker?" Turning on her own headlamps, she turned to scan the shaft. No breaker. Of course. "Let me see if I can power this back on."
Before she could try, the elevator jerked again, this time downward by a handful of meters. She had a single second to realize what was about to happen before it did and then they were falling! Sparks lit up all along the elevator's track as they plunged into the darkness at speed. Gravity had a hold on them and it wasn't letting go! At this rate they'd hit the bottom in seconds!
The Chief moved, pulling her into his arms and bracing for impact. There was a flash of orange light as the elevator cleared the top edge of the lower exit and then—
Darkness.
"Next time? Remind me to take the stairs."
Laying flat on his back with Cortana safely in his arms, John allowed himself a gustier than normal sigh.
"Now you know why I don't take elevators."
"You jump off three story buildings to avoid taking elevators, Chief. You're a bad metric when it comes to normal behavior." Her hand smacked his chestplate and he loosened his grip, letting her roll off of him and into a crouch. He sat up, tilting his head back. Three kilometers of darkness loomed overhead, the elevator track leading up to the dim blue-white glow of floodlights. He could only barely make it out at max zoom. They weren't going to get out that way. Not without climbing up slick glass, at least. Cortana hissed. "Of course, that wasn't normal either…"
"Did another quake cause that?"
"No. It's just shoddy construction," She said, getting to her feet. She dusted herself off, pride more bruised than she was, and offered him a hand. He raised an eyebrow in the safety of his helmet, then reached up to take her hand. She had to strain and step back, but she hauled him to his feet all the same. He squeezed her hand in thanks and turned away from the shaft. "Cross your fingers the rest of this doesn't come down on our heads, too."
"We'll be fine."
Even as he said it, he had his doubts. The miners had done some serious damage down here. Heat warnings flared in his visor, thick rivers of molten glass running down the walls in goopy streams. Platforms and stairs had been set up across the rough landscape, small prefab rooms set at decently regular intervals to allow for storage or rest. It was all empty now, abandoned, and for good reason. Whatever they'd found had spooked them. Add that to the tremors and…well. He didn't particularly want to stay down here, either.
He'd rather be flying than in the ground like this. Too much stone over his head made him nervous. Stepping off the platform, he watched his footing. Glass crunched beneath his boots, clanking metal stairs echoing in the width of the chamber. Cortana was a flicker of blue behind him, watching their six as he kept his eyes front. They worked in tandem to keep an eye out, even as no opposition came to greet them. His already tense nerves shouted that something was wrong. The Prometheans knew they were here. Why hadn't they reappeared yet?
"Was there anything in the logs about when they found this?"
"Three days ago," Cortana replied, "All transit in and out of this digsite stopped three days ago. It's likely that they stumbled on it completely by accident."
"Something tells me the Didact's not going to stop and thank them for it."
Cortana snorted. Amusement flickered in the back of the Chief's mind, the heavy presence shifting slightly. He shook his head sharply to dislodge it; now wasn't the time! It retreated, a hint of contrite regret all that was left as they continued forward. Shadows played across the glass, their combined headlamps and the glow of molten glass throwing off his visuals. He switched to infrared and instantly regretted it; there was too much heat down here. They couldn't stay for long. He picked up the pace through the tunnels, following the carved ramps and tunnels shored up with human metals until they reached a larger chamber, a hole carved in one edge.
Or maybe collapsed would have been the right word. Another cargo lift was broken at the bottom of the collapse, the sharp breaks of glass revealing a tunnel entrance on the other side. A thick red glow spoke of more molten material within, the light reflecting off of Forerunner metals. Cortana paused at the edge.
"Boldly they rode and well, into the jaws of death, into the mouth of hell."
"Poetry?"
"Tennyson. Seemed appropriate." She shrugged, throwing her legs over the sharp edge. "Last one down's a rotten egg."
Now it was the Chief's turn to snort. She flashed herself forward in the same instant that he leapt, the cheater. Of course she hit bottom first. She turned and grinned at him, but it didn't reach her eyes. Worry had sank its teeth into her again. He nudged her shoulder with his arm as he took point, trying to reassure her. It didn't seem to work this time, and the worry lingered as they stepped onto the Forerunner elevator. The chamber it rested in was wide, bigger than anything human carved, and liquid material fell in waterfall like formations down into the bowels of the planet. Molten glass or stone, he couldn't tell which, only that it was so hot his suit wouldn't withstand it for more than a second or two. He didn't want to find out how long it would actually hold up, either. The elevator jerked, then started down.
"Cortana to Meridian. Sinclair, do you copy?" She asked, then grimaced as a sharp squeal of static was the only reply. "Damn. We're too far down." She rolled her shoulders. "Back-up's going to have to follow our breadcrumbs."
They would be fine. The lift moved smoothly, far enough away from the edges that the splatters of molten material didn't land on it, and it carried them down. His altitude readings spat out four kilometers below the baseline reading they'd taken on the surface. How much deeper did they have to go? The smart thing to do would be to turn back and wait for back-up, but if the Didact was already here there was no time for that.
"We scout ahead," He said as the elevator came to a stop, "Get a look at what we're dealing with before we go back."
Not the smartest plan, but the only one they really had. With a nod Cortana fell in at his side and they continued forward. The heat kept climbing, his suit having to work twice as hard to maintain a stable, cool temperature. What would have possessed the Forerunners to build anything down here, let alone store something in this heat? Surely it would have broken down by now. He contemplated the thought as they walked down a long bridge of glass and metal, pools of the molten material far beneath their feet. The chambers here were empty as well, and an eerie feeling began to settle between his ribs. This had to be a trap.
If it was, they'd deal with it. He signaled Cortana to fall in a little closer just in case. She looked around as they walked, head on a slow swivel, taking in the streams of free-flowing molten material running down the walls, lending a stark orange glow to the structure. Her footsteps slowed as they stepped into a more open chamber, the walls littered with open Soldier storage pods. They both paused for a moment and he ran a quick count. One hundred, three hundred, five hundred. A thousand.
"This was another Legion."
"Mm-hmm." She frowned, "And I'm willing to bet the Didact's the one who brought them online. So much for one on one." She snorted, shaking her head. "Well, if he wants to play like that…"
Flashes of blue appeared behind her, eight Soldiers dropping in with muted thumps. They took up formation, automatically scanning their new location for threats before the two at the lead looked to her, waiting for orders.
"Spread out," She commanded them, "Eliminate any Prometheans you encounter and advise if you encounter the Didact."
"It will be done," they said in unison, then scattered backwards and forwards through the structure without looking back. He looked to Cortana, who shrugged up to her ears. A few extra sets of eyes would be handy, and there were no humans to worry about down here. At least there wouldn't be any screaming.
There was that. With a nod, the Chief resumed his slow walk forward. The pods loomed above their heads and above another door, this one smaller than most Forerunner doors. It almost reminded him of the ones in the structure that had housed the Janus Key, though this one opened without him needing to force it. Checking his motion tracker—no targets, no friendlies—he stepped inside the large empty space. More of the hot material drifted down the rough stone walls, lending a bright orange light to the whole space. There was something buried in the rock at the back of the chamber, but there was no path to reach it. Just circular platforms suspended at various heights. Had there been stairs here at some point? If there had been, they were gone now. The pathway continued for another few hundred meters, then stopped abruptly on another round platform. It looked vaguely like an AI emitter, and it made him wonder what it was doing here. Cortana made a soft huh and his eyes darted to her.
"It's a local area teleportation node," She explained, "Sort of like the transport grid without needing to manually input coordinates."
"So it'll keep you from landing on your head," He teased, rewarded by an instant scowl. She smacked his arm with the back of her hand, armor plates clattering together, and he fought down a smile.
"One time. One time and no one lets you live it down."
"Twice." He corrected. She let loose a frustrated shout, though he could hear the amused undercurrent in her voice. He watched her back as she stepped forward, crouching at the edge of the pad. "Does it tell you where it'll drop us?"
"Up there," She pointed to the lowest of the suspended platforms, "It's almost like a set of stairs leading…up." She looked up, way up, and her scowl turned into an actual frown. "There's an access point up at the top of this chamber, but I can't access it remotely. We'll have to get up there."
He knew that tone! Before he could stop her, Cortana stepped onto the pad and vanished. Her IFF vanished from his tracker, only to reappear exactly where she said she would. Looking up at her he spread one hand helplessly. Really? She shrugged, innocent.
"Come on, Chief! This thing's not going to wait around forever!"
And apparently neither was she. In the few seconds it took for him to step through the first pad, she'd already moved on to the next. Oh, so she wanted to play it like that, did she? Fine. He could play chase. Putting on a burst of speed he hurried after her, catching up two platforms later. She snickered as he pushed out in front of her, paying no attention to how high up they were. She gestured forward with both hands, allowing him the honor of going first. Rifle in hand, he did just that.
When he stepped out of the last pad, he stopped. This platform was larger than the rest, large enough to overlook the entire chamber, but what it was in front of was the most important factor. Cortana stepped out behind him and had to hop to the side to avoid crashing into his back. He heard her open her mouth to ask what the hold-up was, only to spot it for herself.
"Oh my…"
The recording from the River Bend hadn't done it justice. Switching his visor to Promethean Vision, the Chief slowly looked up and down the chamber. What he'd seen buried in the rock at the entrance had been only a single piece of the tail section, and not even the lowest piece at that. They'd come out somewhere in the middle of its chest and were barely three quarters of the way of the chamber. Its head, still half buried in the stone, loomed over them. The massive arms—wings—were spread across the walls and buried as well. No, not buried. It was almost like it had been…built here, somehow. That wasn't right either. Nothing this big could have been built down here. They stepped forward, Cortana's neck craned back to try and get a full look at the thing.
"Is that…"
"It's a Guardian," the Chief confirmed, dread settling into his stomach. He tightened his grip on his rifle. "It'll bring down this entire cave system if it moves."
Could it move? It was dark at the moment, the glowing power distribution lines casting odd shadows in the molten glow of the chamber, but it was still and silent. The only sign of light was a wavering orange light in its chest, vaguely reminiscent of the transports they had just used. Consulting his mental map of the settlement the Chief scowled. It wouldn't just bring down the cavern, the cavern coming down would drag the northern half of the settlement down with it. Those people had been through enough already.
"The settlement has to be evacuated."
"We can't warn them from here, we'll have to go back," Cortana hadn't stopped staring at it, "We don't have that kind of time, not if the Didact's on station. We have to keep it from coming online first."
"How?" He didn't see a terminal or any means of interfacing with it. Every other piece of Forerunner technology had some method of controlling it from the outside. This didn't. He looked at the glowing light in its chest and drew back. She couldn't mean to go inside this thing with the Didact somewhere nearby! "Cortana."
"Give me a second." She replied, pushing upwards with both hands. The sharp motion brought up a hard-light screen in front of her, Forerunner glyphs streaming upwards. Strings lit up red beneath her fingers; he didn't need to read those to know an access denied when he saw one. She swore fiercely. "Or a minute. Root system access has already been assigned."
"He's been through here?"
"I'd say he's still in here," She replied, glancing over her shoulder at him, hands still moving fast, "Keep your eyes peeled. Something tells me we're not alone."
He'd bet they weren't. Turning his back to her he scanned the chamber, watching the molten orange glow for any signs of movement. The only moving thing was her, the molten glass, and the occasional blue flash of her Soldiers as they patrolled the perimeter of the cavern. She grumbled under her breath, too soft to make out, and he chanced a look at her through the vid-link. Her brow was furrowed in concentration and he left her to it. With each passing second the muscles in his shoulders grew tenser and he had to force himself to not clench his jaw. She had this. He just had to keep watch. Honestly he had the easier job.
"Dammit." She spat not five seconds later, glyphs flashing red, "This thing is actively fighting me. It's going to take a few more minutes to get through—"
Before he could finish a flash of orange caught the Chief's attention and he lunged, putting himself between her and the Knight that had just taken a shot at her back. She startled, whirling around as the hard-light splashed across his shields, a dozen more contacts flaring into view. Crawlers appeared out of nowhere on the walls, running and gunning as they went. Watchers buzzed, Knights dropping onto the teleporter platforms and opening fire up at them. There was no cover up here! The Chief set his stance, refusing to give up his position and leave her exposed.
"Keep working," He ordered, "I'll cover you."
"Right!"
She spun back around, hands flying across the screen. The Chief opened fire on the Watchers, picking them off as quickly as he could. While he was focused on them the Knights pressed upwards, aiming for his head! Hard-light scattered across his shields, the enhanced weaponry dropping them to screaming lows within a few shots. He couldn't move, couldn't even take a more mobile approach. His ammo-counter ran down to zero and the Knights pressed forward. One lined up a shot with a binary rifle, only to drop as a flash of blue light dropped a Soldier right on top of it!
"Defend the Reclaimer!" Its modulated voice echoed through the chamber. The rest appeared out of thin air, one of them dropping onto a surviving Watcher and carrying it straight down out of sight. Three more landed behind him, forming a dome of hard-light shields around Cortana. She didn't even look up, attention hyperfocused on the screen, and two more Soldiers landed beside him, turning their weapons against their fellows.
No, not their fellows. It was blue against orange, Cortana against the Didact. Their markers were yellow in his HUD: friendlies, allies. Three more dropped in in front of him.
It was about time they got some back up.
Stepping up beside a Soldier, the Chief opened fire on the same Knight it had been targeting. Between the two of them it went down faster and the Soldier looked to him.
"We stand with you, Didact," It said, startling him, "What are your orders?"
Didact. It knew Bornstellar was in his head? There was no time to process that. He signaled the squad forward.
"Hold this platform."
"It will be done," the Soldier replied, turning to give orders to its fellows, and the three of them walked forward. Blue hard-light mixed with tungsten rounds, picking off Promethean targets nearly as fast as they appeared in the chamber. For every one they felled three more appeared in its place, tremors rocking the chamber with increasing speed and regularity. Sheets of stone and glass fell down towards the molten mess below, one of the platforms taking a hit and dropping away. The Soldier that had been standing on the platform barely made it off in time. The Chief bit back a curse.
"Cortana?"
"Working on it!" She shouted, "It's still fighting me!"
It, or the Didact? There was no time to think about it. The Chief turned and kept shooting, holding ground. His ammo was running low. He had to stop to reload and one of the Soldiers tossed him a fully loaded lightrifle to compensate. Not missing a beat he opened fire, the Forerunner weapon feeling like it belonged in his hand. Maybe it did. This was no time to think about that. Two of the three Soldiers that had been holding up the shield had been pulled away, leaping onto Crawlers making their way down the walls, and the one that was left was straining to hold all three sides up. A flash of orange light drew both it and the Chief's attention, an orange-lined Soldier landing hard on the opposite side of the shield. It cocked its head, birdlike, and then it charged forward.
The Chief was faster.
Kicking his thrusters onto full he charged forward, slamming into the rogue Soldier before it could reach the shields. The one holding them up called out to its traitorous fellow, spitting invectives, but it couldn't move without dropping the shield. This one was on the Chief.
That was fine. He worked faster alone.
Coming up from the tussle on top of the Soldier he grabbed the construct by the head, aiming to twist and break, but it got its arm up and with a tremendous roar shoved him back. He corrected his footing before he could stumble, the Soldier shouting at the top of its inorganic lungs in rage at his insolence. They circled around one another, looking for an opening. It was big, tall, but not invincible. It had to have some weakness in there somewhere! A flash of memory danced across his vision, the scene changing. Not now, dammit!
There was no stopping it. The platform shifted to an arena, packed down sand as unyielding as metal beneath his bare feet. Shouts and jeers filled the air, the roar of the three Soldiers as they charged him unable to counter the rush of sound. He twisted, catching one on the shoulder and tossing it into another, then spun back around and caught the third at the neck. Flattening his fingers into a knife he jabbed upwards, grabbed the inside of the face plate and tossed the construct to the ground—
"Chief!"
The Chief snapped back to himself less than a second after Bornstellar's memory had taken hold, but that one second was all the time the Soldier needed to charge forward, hard-light blade in hand. He twisted away at the last possible moment, the slice that had been meant for his neck scoring an inch deep gash in his shoulder plate instead. It tore through his shields like wet paper, draining them in a mere instant, but it had had to get in close, too close. Twisting his arm around he took control of the situation, flattening his hand into a knife and jabbing upwards, grabbing the inside of the face plate. The Soldier roared at him but he didn't care. He threw it to the ground where it landed with a heavy clang and clatter! Before it could teleport away he lifted one leg and stomped down hard, shattering its head in a single blow. The rest of the armor plating faded away as all Prometheans did, leaving nothing but after images behind. The Chief exhaled with a forceful huff, heart racing. Too close.
That had been too close. If the rest of them came at them, or if the Legion turned, things would go sideways in a hurry. He looked at the Soldier holding up the shield with new eyes, watching as it nodded respectfully to him. Human or not, it seemed to be saying, he had defended their Reclaimer. That made them allies and that was all that mattered to it.
The Chief wasn't so sure. Scooping up the fallen Soldier's binary rifle, he shouldered the new weapon and scanned the chamber for targets. There were none left, the Soldiers having taken care of all the lesser Prometheans. They reappeared on the platform in flashes of blue light, weapons in hand. Some had scorch damage on their frames, hard-light having burned across the once pristine silver plating, but they were intact. A blue query light flashed in his visor and he looked up, meeting Cortana's eyes. Pulling his breathing back under control he nodded, flashing a green light in return.
He was fine. Nothing the techs wouldn't be able to fix. At least, nothing they couldn't fix in his armor. Bornstellar's sense of timing was another story. The old Forerunner's presence retreated, contrite, and the Chief allowed himself a quiet sigh. He kept his guard up as he walked back towards Cortana just in time for the screen in front of her to flash blue.
"Got it!" Cortana crowed triumphantly. The orange light in the Guardian's chest turned her soft blue color, an odd juxtaposition to the molten orange glow that filled the chamber. "Powering down now."
A soft groan filled the air. The blue lights that had overtaken the Guardian began to fade, returning it to darkness and sleep. He watched it for a moment before turning his attention to Cortana. She was pushing and pulling at the data on her screen, brow furrowed in concentration.
"Getting anything useful?"
"Plenty. There's some specification files and recordings stored on the thing, but it's more concerning than actually useful. The Guardians were weapons, Chief," Her eyes darted up to meet his, "Forerunner weapons against the galaxy at large."
"For what purpose?" Localized Halo-like pulses? To make sure they'd gotten all the Flood in case a Halo went down? It would make sense to have a back up….but she wouldn't look so concerned if it was something that simple. "They weren't for the Flood, were they?"
"No, they weren't." She made a complicated gesture with one hand and a second screen popped up in front of him, Forerunner glyphs translating in real time. Specs and power readings; these things were capable of blasting with enough force to make a Havok look friendly. If a blast of that magnitude hit the Infinity, even she'd be hardpressed to stay airborne. If they hadn't seen the effects on the River Bend he might have been startled. As it was, his mouth went dry. Cortana continued, "The Forerunners used them to keep troublesome worlds in line. It was how they upheld the Mantle."
The Mantle of Responsibility, of which the Forerunners were masters. He still didn't quite understand what it really all meant; she'd said some sort of socio-political doctrine, or a set of guidelines, but why would that have required such control over worlds not their own? What had they needed to control so badly? No…not what, but who.
"It was how they kept others from taking control of it away from them," He said, and watched understanding dawn on her face. They both looked up to the Guardian with new understanding. "They kept an imperial peace. Step out of line, and the Guardians would take you down."
"Or at least back to the stone age," She finished with a full body shudder. "And there's easily two hundred of these things scattered around the galaxy. If the Didact activates more of them, then." She swallowed hard. "He'd be able to wipe us out. Forget the Composer, we'd be sitting ducks for the Prometheans! All he'd have to do is pull the trigger and then sit back for the fireworks."
They weren't going to let that happen. He stepped up beside her.
"Can you tell where they're going? Is there some kind of rally point they're being directed to?"
"I'm not sure," She replied, data dancing in front of her, "They have slipspace drives in their cores so they could theoretically go anywhere, but there is some navigational data in here. Let me see if I can get anything…"
A shiver went down the Chief's spine: someone was watching him. He turned around, rifle raised and ready. A quick scan of the chamber revealed nothing but the friendly Soldiers on the edges of the platform. They all looked to him, seemingly confused. What had he seen? No, not seen. Sensed.
"Cortana."
She looked at him and instantly went tense. "Scans are clean. Where are you—"
She didn't have time to finish the question. The platform buzzed beneath his boots, systems blaring warnings of immense gravimetric disturbance beneath them. He didn't even have time to call out a warning before a pulse of energy knocked them all from their feet. The Soldiers were sent flying, knocked clean off the edge, while he and Cortana were yanked towards the center of the platform with alarmed shouts. Pain lanced down the Chief's body as his arms were forcibly outstretched, every muscle locking into a rigid position. His rifle dropped from his hand, clattering onto the platform below. The sound was lost beneath thundering, metal-clad footsteps.
"Humanity is as persistent as I recall," the Didact's voice rumbled down John's bones, echoing through his mind and hearing in the same instant. Bornstellar's presence snapped to attention with all the grace of a man falling out of his chair, his surprise warring with John's steadily growing fury. "Even when faced with a losing battle they continue to fight beyond all honor and reason."
"You sure you're not talking about yourself?" Cortana spat. She was trapped beside him, a flicker of blue out of his periphery. John's jaw had been locked down tight by the force exerted on his body, leaving him unable to get a word out. He couldn't tell her to let him handle this. More footsteps sounded behind them, the Didact closing in. If he lay so much as a single finger on Cortana— "We got you once! We can do it again!"
"Yes…" A hint of respect entered the Didact's voice. "You impressed me, ancilla. To cause such destruction even while your own being turned against you is quite remarkable. Your architecture is truly astonishing."
"Flattery's going to get you nowhere!"
The Didact chuckled, the sound slipping down John's spine like slime. With a limping, uneven gait, the ancient Forerunner stepped close enough that John could see him off to one side. The Librarian had said he'd been wounded, but until now they hadn't known just how bad it was. His entire right side was practically destroyed, the arm gone and a metal plate covering where collarbone gave way to shoulder blade, his right leg reduced to mere armor plating. A burst of grief from Bornstellar stole over John, pushing at the edges of his fury. The sight of the once imposing Forerunner in such a state…he shoved it aside, the heat of his anger boiling his insides. He struggled, straining to move anything at all. Fingers twitched, though he couldn't tell if he was doing that or if it was just a spasm. Still struggling to free himself he could only watch as the Didact took slow steps towards Cortana, considering her from all angles.
"It is beyond that of the Composer's creations, beyond that of anything a human could have designed," He said, eyeing her like she was a piece of meat. John clenched his jaw so tightly his ears began to ring. "You are Forerunner now…I see."
With a twitch of his six-fingered hand, the Didact dismissed Cortana's helmet. Not bound by the same muscular systems that John was she bared her teeth at the Didact, snarling furiously.
"Clearly you went and forgot your manners in that Cryptum," She snapped, "You don't undress a lady without asking first!"
The Didact paid her fury no mind. He circled her, looking her up and down as if searching for something. In the Chief's HUD, a warning flickered. Force-multiplication limitations disabled. A blue light flashed in the corner a half second later, a what are you waiting for? if he'd ever heard one. Cortana.
She was stalling the Didact, giving him a chance to escape and attack. He wasn't going to waste it.
"So, this was the Librarian's plan all along." The Didact said as if she hadn't spoken at all, his back still to John. John seized the opportunity and began to try and pull himself free of the gravimetric disturbance, ignoring the bolts of pain that seared through his body as the suit pulled him along more than he pulled it. "To offer everything the Forerunners built, everything we created, to one created by humans." The Didact hissed low in anger and disgust. "As if altering your architecture could ever make you worthy of the Mantle."
"You can take that Mantle and shove it up your ass," Cortana spat, buying him precious seconds. "Did you ever stop to think that maybe we don't want the stupid thing?! You could have just left us alone and that would have been the end of it!"
"And allow humanity to taint the galaxy as they once did? To continue to spread across the stars and destroy everything in their path? No." The Didact shook his head. John kept pulling, entire body screaming at him to stop. He couldn't stop. He was nearly there! Just a few more inches— "I have seen what they do to their own people, ancilla. If they are allowed to continue in such a way, the galaxy itself will fall. My duty is clear."
Almost…almost—
"If humanity cannot be contained, they are to be burned from the stars."
Everything stopped. Even Bornstellar, his presence shifting back and forth as he paced helplessly at the edge of John's mind, stopped. They all stared at the Didact, his meaning clear. Cortana had gone pale with shock.
"Halo."
"Yes." The Didact replied with the air of someone talking about the weather and not the destruction of all sentient life. "Stronger means than the Composer have proven necessary. Humanity's destruction will be a kindness they do not deserve."
Before Cortana could respond a flash of blue light up the Didact's back. He stumbled forward, nearly crashing into Cortana, before he whipped around to find one of Cortana's Soldiers with binary rifle in hand, the muzzle still smoking. The Didact blinked, snarled, and took a step forward, only for the Soldier to vanish. In the same instant the gravimetric disturbance shut off; with it broken they dropped to the platform, the Chief up and on his feet in an instant. There was no time to grab for his rifle, no time to think about how to handle the Didact in close quarters. He pulled his combat knight from the sheath on his thigh, shoved past his cycling systems, and leapt up onto the Didact's shoulder! The ancient Forerunner turned at the last possible moment and the Chief stabbed his knife clean into his eye! The Didact shouted in pain and rage, moving too fast for the Chief to track.
"Chief!"
Cortana's scream filled the air as the Didact got a hand on the Chief's head, snatching him off his shoulder and yanking him around. The muscles in his neck screamed at the rough treatment; had it not been for his armor, the Chief knew his neck would have been broken in that instant. He reached up, struggling to break free, but the Didact's grip was too strong. He clawed uselessly at the armored forearm holding him up, the palm of a six-fingered hand blocking all but the corners of his vision. His systems screamed at him, warning him of a growing pressure on the exterior plating of his helmet. He was being squeezed to death!
"Consistently I am presented with the chance to eliminate you," the Didact snarled, violet blood streaming down the eye socket of his helmet where the Chief's knife had gone in deep. Not deep enough, it seemed. "And yet foolishly I refuse to take it. No longer."
Titanium alloy cracked as the Didact squeezed harder. The visor shattered half an instant later, reinforced materials breaking into razor sharp shards that sliced through his skin, the systems going silent. Padding and armor plating pressed inwards towards his skull; he didn't need the systems to run the math for him. Another few seconds and it'd be his own skull shattering, not just his visor. He continued to claw and kick, struggling with all the strength he had. Without any HUD or readings in the way, John stared at the Didact and knew this was to be his end.
Not yet. Not today. He wasn't ready.
Neither was Cortana. With a scream fit to tear the stars from the heavens she opened fire on the Didact, four Soldiers adding their weapons to hers. The Didact turned on her and threw the Chief in the same instant, forcing them to scatter or be landed on. Blue flashed past him, his suit broken and unresponsive. Without the VISR system his armor was little more than titanium plating, useless to slow his uncontrolled momentum. He landed hard, bouncing off the platform in a clatter of plating. Lightshot continued to fire, the Soldiers distracting the Didact, but it didn't matter. He couldn't get his suit to respond! There was no time to try and anchor himself; still spinning he soared over the edge of the platform, reaching out to try and grab it—
"Chief!"
Two hands closed around his wrist, catching him at the last second. His shoulder screamed at the sudden stop, weight pulling it clean out of the socket. He grit his teeth against the pain and looked up, two Soldiers all that kept Cortana from falling over the edge with him. Orange light began to glow behind her, the Guardian restored to the Didact's control. Small blue sparks warred against it, the Didact handily holding off her Soldiers. The platform—no, the entire cavern—shook. The Guardian was coming online.
"Cortana—"
"Shut up!" She snapped, voice thick with the strain of holding him up, "I'm not—I'm not going to let go!"
Another chunk of glass and stone slammed onto the platform somewhere behind her. The Didact made a startled noise as it shook, broken free from a mooring. It tilted precariously and she slid forward, the Soldiers attempting to brace her. They couldn't hold this position and she knew it. Still holding on with all her strength, she commanded the Soldiers to pull her back. They didn't hesitate, wrapping their arms around her middle and pulling her, pulling him, back up from certain death. As soon as he could grasp the platform with his other hand he clambered back up, heart racing. Too close! That had been too close! As if sensing his foe had survived the Didact turned around. The Chief prepared to move, prepared to shove Cortana clear, but there was no need.
Seizing on the moment of distraction, the remaining Soldiers lunged at the Didact. Three massive Prometheans caught him around the middle; before he could fight them off they all tumbled through the light in the Guardian's chest, vanishing through to wherever the portal would go. They were gone, but the threat hadn't gone with them. The chamber rocked and shuddered, the Guardian's wings beginning to pull free of the stone that had once held it prisoner. This whole place was about to come down!
"We need to move!"
"Don't wait around on my account!" Cortana clambered to her feet, nearly knocked back down by another tremor before he steadied her. "I rerouted the teleporter to take us to the surface! Come on!"
There was no time to think. The pair of them ran for it just as another chunk of rock and glass broke loose overhead. The Chief looked up, tracked its descent, and threw himself forward at Cortana. Trusting him she went limp; he twisted in mid-motion, pulling her into his arms and throwing them both through the teleporter right before the stone could knock it into the lava. They came out still moving, blasting through a hurried evacuation. The Chief twisted again, pulling her closer against his chest as they skidded down a glass covered hill just inside the main gate. His body screamed at him for the rough treatment and he ignored it, stopping their slide with a hand. They both looked up and around, taking in the chaos.
The Infinity had arrived and now blue-lined Soldiers fought alongside Marines and Spartans as they tried to buy the colonists time to escape. Colony security was rushing miners and civilians to the space elevator in bunches, firing wild potshots at the Didact's Promethean forces. The ground shook, unseating him, and Cortana swore fiercely.
"It's on the move," She said, throwing a channel wide open, "Cortana to all hands! Get away from the mine—repeat, get away from the mine entrance! It's going to collapse!"
It already had. A massive plume of dust and silicates rose from the north section of the settlement, the mine having imploded as the Guardian pulled itself free. Setting Cortana down the Chief reached up to his dislocated shoulder and snapped it back into the place, the sharp pain stealing his breath for half a second. With both arms in a usable state he got to his feet. Cortana remained at his side, calling a light rifle and pressing it into his hands.
"Come on," She said, "We've gotta go!"
The Chief's insides twisted. They had failed to stop the Guardian, failed to stop the Didact, and now Meridian was going to fall. This was a battle he couldn't win. The best he could do now was help the civilians escape.
Gritting his teeth he turned to follow her, the ground trembling beneath their feet. A Sergeant caught sight of them and ordered them back towards the space elevator where all forces were to meet up and evacuate to the Infinity, but anything else the man had been going to say was lost beneath a sudden roar that shook the air. More mechanical than animal it rattled through his bones, a horn mixed with a klaxon. He'd never heard anything like it before, but it was somehow familiar.
There was no time to think about it. Without warning Cortana dropped to her knees with a scream of agony, freezing his heart still.
"Cortana!"
"Stop it!" She shouted, not at him but at something else. Her voice was distorted, Rampant, and for half a second her frame wavered. "Stop it!"
He dropped beside her, hooking an arm around her middle and hauling her back to her feet. She clung to him, trying to hide away in his armor, but the sound came again and she almost collapsed. He held her close, useless, unable to do anything, and nearly lost his footing when the world cracked beneath their feet. His systems blared alarms: motion detected to the north. People turned and shouted in alarm.
"Holy shit!"
"The hell is that?!"
"Watch out!"
The Chief turned around, watching in horror as the Guardian rose above the settlement, pieces of stone falling away from its massive wings. It was even bigger out in the open, with a wingspan half as long as the Infinity. Its head was at least as big as a Mammoth and it looked down at them, a beam of orange energy scanning the evacuation. Prometheans hurried out of the way, vanishing from sight, and the Soldiers did the same. Not finding what it was looking for the Guardian made that strange noise a third time, leaving Cortana screaming again, hands over her ears even with her helmet in the way.
"Cortana, what's it doing?!"
"It's—overwhelming my systems!" She shouted, every word broken by the same electronic distortion that had almost claimed her during her Rampancy. His blood ran cold. "I can't—Chief I can't—"
"You can!" He pulled her back to look at him, "How do we stop it?"
"We can't!"
Over their heads, the Guardian continued to rise. It paid no attention to them or the chaos it was causing, drifting past the settlement on its way up. Marines shouted orders, hurrying people away from the edge. Cortana stared after it, pale and trembling in his grasp.
"It's going to," her voice wavered, "It'll go into Slipspace…it's going to—"
She couldn't finish the thought. She didn't have to. Without his radio he couldn't throw open the band to shout the command, but he had to try. "All hands, brace positions! Slipspace rupture in atmosphere!"
The order was instantly passed down the chain. Civilians shouted as they were grabbed by Marines and Spartans alike, pulled behind whatever cover they could find. The Guardian rose up past the space elevator, blue energy forming in its chest. Visible pulses rang out, washing over them like shockwaves. The Chief was nearly knocked off his feet by the first one, thrown off balance; he barely kept his footing, barely kept hold of Cortana. She screeched, sobbing in agony; they went down to their knees, her hands scrabbling for anything to hold onto until they found his and squeezed tight, desperate for an anchor. Helpless to make it stop, he pulled her into his arms.
"It's okay," he said to her, though it wasn't anywhere near okay, "I've got you, you're going to be fine—"
Another pulse rocked him forward. He looked up past the failure state warnings of his systems, unable to do anything but watch as a massive slipspace rupture tore open the sky. The Guardian slipped backwards through it, leaving the world behind. Another cry to brace rang out, Marines shouting at the tops of their lungs, and then—the portal closed.
With all the force of a bomb, the pressure difference ripped through the atmosphere. Metal screeched, torn loose from its moorings. People screamed as the shockwave rushed over them, sending bodies flying and anything not nailed down skidding across the glassy hills. The Chief was knocked to his knees, Cortana still in his arms, and he jammed a fist into the glass. Sharp edges pressed into his palm through his techsuit but he didn't care. He held firm, trying to wait it out. They just had to wait it out!
There was no time to wait it out. Ripped free of its moorings, the space elevator wobbled beneath its own weight. It rocked, twisting, and then with a deafening shriek finally began to fall. The Chief's heart skipped three beats in rapid succession, tracking its angle of descent. It was going to fall right on top of them! Forcing his body to the limit he threw them forward out of the way, curling around Cortana's slighter frame. She'd gone still and silent but there was no time to look after her. Throwing them behind a rise of glass he ducked low, shielding her from anything that would happen next.
The space elevator hit ground with an earth shattering crash. Chunks of silicates exploded in all directions, larger pieces crashing to earth; one bounced off his back, nearly knocking him over, and an instant later a cloud of deep gray dust swept over them. With his helmet half destroyed he had no rebreather; puffs of finely ground glass and dirt snuck in through the hole in his visor, snaking their way down his throat. The cloud grew thicker and thicker, darkness falling over him. Fine particulate scraped across his armor, wedging into the joints and destroying the finer workings, but he didn't care. So long as Cortana was safe he would be fine. He would stay like this for an eternity it meant keeping her safe!
It felt like it was an eternity before the cloud cleared up, leaving them in the stillness and quiet that only came after a massive explosion. His armor creaked, moving stiffly. The Chief lifted his head, looking out over the destroyed settlement. All that was left was glass, torn scaffolding and prefabs and mining equipment scattered across what had once been a settlement of over five thousand people. Faint screams began to reach him from a great distance, survivors thrown hundreds of meters in all directions. The space elevator was gone, the tether and cowling looming behind him like a wall. He looked from it down to Cortana in his arms.
"Cortana?"
No response. Her hands no longer gripped his chestplate. Moving slowly, careful not to pinch her limbs between the plates, he relaxed his grip. She'd have fallen if he hadn't been holding her, limp and unresponsive. A cold hand squeezed around his heart, his breath catching.
"Cortana, respond."
No answer. Holding her in the crook of one arm, he gently pried her helmet off. Her head lolled in his palm, neck limp. There was no color in her face, no light. Her eyes were closed. She was—
No. No!
"Cortana!"
Nothing. No signs of life, no electric hum beneath his palm as he cupped her cheek. She was hurt, mortally wounded, but this was something no medpack would fix. Infinity. He had to get her back to Infinity. Roland would know what to do, or he'd make them get Halsey a second time. He could fix this—she wasn't going to die!
Still holding her close, John struggled to his feet. Her head lolled against his shoulder, the ever present buzz beneath her skin gone silent. His mouth had gone dry, lips cracked by the fine, sharp edges of the silicate dust that had blown through. None of that mattered. She was the only important thing now. He turned, heart racing, and looked for a way to the ship.
There was nothing but destruction and death. They'd failed to stop this. They'd failed.
He'd failed.
"Over here!" Someone shouted and he looked up to the top of what had once been the elevator. Fireteam Osiris was clambering up and over the ruined column, hands scrabbling along the smooth surface, "They're over here! We found them! Chief—!" Buck shouted down at him, "Stay there! We'll come and get you!"
What else could he do? Failure—to protect Cortana, to protect Meridian—settled in over his shoulders.
Closing his eyes, John could do nothing but wait for help to come.
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I woke up at like 5:30-6 this morning and then I spent 2 hours cleaning my whole house, which is so therapeutic I cannot even, but now its like 10 o'clock and I have nothing to do.
Anybody else ever get that feeling of something just like itching in your skin so you have to do something, but the second you try doing anything it just gets so much worse. I am barely holding it together right now, actively typing this.
I can't watch youtube videos (short dumb videos aren't engaging enough and long serious videos are too engaging), I can't listen to a podcast (I need something to do physically with my body and the thought of listening to something while doing something else sounds like actual torture right now), I can't draw (I need to be listening to something and again the idea of having more than one thing take my attention sounds miserable), doom scrolling is out (I already reached my end point for tumblr and going down any other rabbit holes will only last a couple of minutes before I'll reach the point of wanting to tear my hair out), there's nothing I can clean or organize that will take enough effort to engage me but still be quick enough that I'll feel a sense of accomplishment for, I can't read an online comic because the words are so small and my eyes hurt, I can't read my webtoons because it's been a while since I've read anything and the idea of having to catch up sounds exhausting, any shows or movies I could watch are either too new and would take emotional effort to get invested in or are too familiar and won't be stimulating enough.
Basically I'm gonna die.
There are literally a million things I could be doing, and the idea of doing any of them sounds absolutely miserable. But I'm barely staving off the rising pressure by typing this out and I know the second I stop it'll creep up and I'll die.
Maybe I could go running? Except then I'd have to change clothes and my exercise clothes are disgusting. I can't do laundry cause my family's dryer is broken, so I can't wash my clothes yet. I also can't wash my towel so I can't take a shower.
Ugh, my hair is so disgusting right now. I have it all tied up in a weird way so that I don't rip it out of my scalp. I can't wait until I can shave my head, then I won't have to worry about this.
So I can't do my self care activities, and I can't accomplish a task that is very important to my everyday functions, and that's breaking me brain.
Noted.
Maybe when I rant like this I'll figure out what makes me feel this way.
I'm so tired, I want to take a nap, but I know I won't be able to fall asleep. I want to clean some more, but there isn't anything for me to do really. Especially since I have family members out and about getting in the way. UUUUUUUUuuuuuuuuuuugggggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh
It's fine.
I'm fine.
I'm doing great.
I'm losing my mind.
Maybe I should write poetry? I haven't done that in a while. But it sounds too involved. I already drew a bunch of angsty stuff after the fight with my mom. We're both just ignoring it by the way. I'm avoiding her as much as I can without making it obvious, and neither of us are addressing it. I only have one more week and then I'm gone. I'm so excited to leave.
Okay, I think this is it.
My brain is giving up on me.
I knew this wouldn't last forever, but it lasted for a bit, and for that I am grateful.
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
Okay, I'm done.
#just ranting#I'm so sick of everything#and literally nothing is going wrong#so that's great#my brain functions so well#I just love it so much.
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So the other day I said a thing about how I felt like a line could be drawn between antis, and the rise of 24-hour news networks. I’ve given that thought some time to bubble to see what, exactly, my brain meant by that statement, and here’s what I’ve got:
When I was a kid (back in Ye Olde 1990s), we had three major news stations in my town: Channel 12, Channel 24, and Channel 35. These corresponded to NBC, ABC, and CBS, but I don’t remember which one was which so don’t ask me. Anyway--you had a half hour of news at 8 or 9 am (depending on which station you watched), an hourlong program at noon in which half the program was stuff like “here are today’s beach closures and some recipes and also if you’re looking for stuff to do with the kids this weekend here are local promotions,” and half an hour at either 5, 5:30, or 6 (again, depending on which channel you watched). One of the three stations also did a half-hour capper at 10pm. So unless you were watching all three stations, and picking the news every single time, the max amount of news you were going to get was like an hour and a half. If you wanted more news than that, you read the newspaper. When my mom was a kid (back in Ye Olde 1960s), this would have seemed like an inordinate amount of news--for her, it was half an hour at 6pm and ten minutes at 10pm and then the station (there was only one station that did the news) played the National Anthem and went off the air until 6am, at which time you might get like . . . the weather and a traffic report.
For anything else, you read the newspaper.
Now with only half an hour to present a whole lot of news, what are you going to do? You are going to stick to the facts. You don’t have a choice. You have a very short time to fit a whole lot of information. “Notre Dame cathedral caught on fire today. French firefighters are working to get the flames under control, and authorities in charge of the cathedral are doing their best to remove relics, paintings, and other holy objects while it’s still possible. French President Mr. Somebody addressed the nation and stated every attempt to save the building, and to rebuild the damage, will be made. In local news . . . “ And that’s it! If you want more information, you’ve got to wait for the newspaper in the morning, and you’re going to have to get a copy of the New York Times or USA Today, because the local paper will only have a blurb, and that blurb will mostly cover what you just heard!
But then the news changed.
By the time I was a teenager, the non-cable news looked like this: All three channels had a morning show that started at 5 or 6 am (depending on your station) and ran until 8 or 9 (depending on your station). The station that ended at 8am then had a half-hour morning news show. The mid-day news at 11 or 12 was still an hour. Channel 35 did a half-hour news segment at 5 and another at 5:30, back to back. The other two stations simply did an hourlong segment. And then one station did half an hour at 10:30, and the other two did hourlong segments at 10pm.
What do you do with that much time? Well, you expand. Yes, you can fit more news, but you can also fit more about the news. “Notre Dame cathedral in Paris went up in flames today. The fire began in the famous historic bell tower, and spread to the roof. At this time, portions of the roof appear to have caved in, and there are concerns about the integrity of the medieval stonework in the cathedral walls. French firefighters have been working since 8am Paris time to get the flames under control, and authorities in charge of the cathedral are doing their best to remove relics, paintings, and other holy objects while it’s still possible. Some firefighters are also helping with this project, as portions of the building have become too unsafe to enter. French President Mr. Somebody addressed the nation late this evening and stated every attempt to save the building, and to rebuild the damage, will be made. Of the cathedral itself, Somebody said, ‘Our Lady has weathered worse troubles than this. Paris as a city, and France as a nation, will overcome.’ In local news . . . ”
Still facts, but a few more facts. At this point the internet as a public thing is just past its infancy, and in theory you could go look up some stuff on, like, AOL, maybe, about what was happening.
(Nina, you were talking about antis . . . ?)
(Yes, I was. Bear with me.)
But at this point you also saw the rise of Fox News and CNN.
Now up to this point, I could trust the news. That is important to know. “Nina, American news is full of propaganda--” Listen, you’re not wrong, but the point is, if Scott Brennan told me Notre Dame cathedral was on fire and priests were trying to remove the holy relics, I could safely assume Notre Dame cathedral was on fire and priests were trying to remove the holy relics. If Channel 24 told me “the blizzard of the century” had occurred the night before, I could look out the window of my snowed-in house and go “yeah, that seems legit.”
I grew up, in other words, in a world in which facts were facts. We didn’t waffle or wring our hands over whether or not Notre Dame was on fire. And this allowed me to take a similar approach to fiction: it is a fact that murder is wrong, and knowing this, I can read a book in which someone commits murder for very good reasons, but still know they did something wrong.
But now you have 24 hours of news to fill.
No matter how you pad it, no matter how many voice clips you play or retrospectives you do, you cannot find enough news in the world to fill 24 hours, seven days a week, 365 days a year. You just can’t.
So they started adding “opinion pieces.”
Notre Dame is on fire--is it worth saving? Notre Dame is on fire--but is it as big a catastrophe as it’s made out to be? Notre Dame is on fire--but France has been steadily calling themselves a secular nation, so is this the punishment of G-d? Notre Dame is on fire--
--wait, what was that?
Yep. You saw it, I saw it, we all saw it. But as the “opinion pieces” slowly took over the regular news and stopped being called “opinion pieces” and started being called “programs,” it became less and less clear what was and wasn’t fact.
Now obviously Notre Dame is on fire. But now we have to ask ourselves: is it worth it to save it or not? Is the financial cost outweighed by the history? Will those answers change depending on how bad the damage becomes? And you, lonely elderly person in your chair whose predominant socialization these days is at church, how does this make you feel about French people? These are questions that once would have been asked of the church caretakers and the French government. Now every single person is being asked to think about them, without being provided all of the context that is available to the church caretakers and the French government. And along the way, you get these nice, nasty little bits of prejudice and slanted thinking and bias sneaked in.
I told you I’d come back to antis. And here we are.
The vast majority of antis are very young. They grew up in a world where those “programs” were the norm. They were not provided with a cultural basis of “these are the facts.” They were provided a basis of “here is what I think about the facts.” They were provided a basis of, as Mr. Banks said in Mary Poppins, “kindly do not cloud the matter with facts.”
There are no facts! Who fucking cares! An anti who’s 15 years old today was eleven years old when we were introduced to “alternative facts”! Is it wrong for a 27-year-old man to pursue a relationship with a 13-year-old girl? Depends on which news channel, and which presenter, you ask!
They literally grew up in a world in which critical thinking was discouraged. Once upon a time, you would have seen on TV that Notre Dame was on fire, and at dinner--or whatever your family did for together time--you might say things like “going to be expensive to fix that, I wonder what they’ll do,” but you wouldn’t have been hit with six presenters telling you exactly why Notre Dame should/shouldn’t be rebuilt. And don’t forget--even if you, personally, do not watch the news (or read it on the internet, which is just as bad, because everybody’s after those elusive advertising clicks, everybody needs the “scoop” two seconds before it happens), you know people who do. You hear their opinions and their hot takes and their retellings all around you. And those opinions and hot takes and retellings will be colored by which “program” that person saw first.
Watch the first thirty seconds of this:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Dn2RjahTi3M
Walter Cronkite, a legendary news anchor, giving his opinion on Vietnam. You will notice that he states, very clearly: “it seems very clear to this reporter.” This is Cronkite’s opinion, nothing more, and he makes it clear that he is speaking only for himself.
Now skip to approximately 1:05, and watch him report the Kennedy assassination. You can see he’s emotional, but also keeping it under wraps as best he can because he has An Important Job To Do, and that job is twofold: to deliver the news accurately and concisely, and to keep the American public calm (you can see this when he hurriedly says Johnson is probably taking the oath to become President; a missing VP would be a crisis at this moment). This is a man who’s just found out the most beloved president in modern times is dead. And not just dead--murdered. It’s not like Kennedy had a heart attack, his damn head was blown off. This news is still coming in so quickly that you can see him glancing off the screen to get fresh reports. He’s one of the first to receive this absolute blow--and he’s still holding it together, barely wavering. (When I was a kid, this role would go to Dan Rather. He was no Cronkite, but he tried.)
Where is that kind of rock for today’s teens? Imagine--heaven forbid, in the state our country’s in right now--that tomorrow we get the news Biden was shot.
How would we get that message?
Would it be delivered by an even-keeled, just-the-facts reporter like Cronkite? Or would we get it from a bunch of half-hysterical articles and crisismongering “programs”? And would it be delivered to us straight, like Cronkite did, or would it be buried in three days’ worth of opinions on his “legacy” and policies and What This Means For America?
Now: how are you supposed to build any kind of strong convictions and moral compass on a world like that? Where anything can be true if enough people have an “opinion” on it? Where the facts get immediately buried in a wave of bullshit?
Antis are reacting to a world of “opinions” and “programs” being thrown at them 24/7 by trying to create a world they can control, where there are in fact things that are true, in a world that has actively refused them the opportunity to learn how to parse and process facts. And so what they’ve come up with is this grossly distorted version of facts, because gross distortions of facts are all they know. It’s all they’ve ever seen. They’re perpetuating a system they don’t even realize they’re part of, because they never experienced life before it existed.
They’re not lying when they say they were heavily influenced by fiction because the bounds between fact and fiction have been actively erased. On purpose. And it’s difficult to grok that, if you grew up in a world where you didn’t have to go seek out photographic evidence to be absolutely certain that Notre Dame was, indeed, on fire.
So what we need to be doing, first and foremost, is rebuilding that wall of facts, that line of truth. Otherwise, what we’re going to see is more of this, but getting worse daily.
We set them up for this, and now we’re paying the price for it.
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okay but what about airport!levi? he gives quiet businessman vibes sitting in his slacks and turtleneck
IN HIS TURTLENECK 😭😭 He would also be quiet and to himself, but not in the emo way. You got me thinking about all of them now, so here are my other thoughts about the boys at the airport.
Levi
He thinks the idea of separating classes on an airplane is beyond stupid, but if the flight is particularly long, or particularly packed, he’s not above paying for business class for a little extra personal space for the two of you.
When he doesn’t do that, tho, he never picks your guys’ seats ahead of time, so sometimes you’ll be separated. Good thing he’s also not above lying at the check-in desk, “I’m in Zone 1, could my wife be seated next to me so that we can board together?”
They respond with an “of course,” and move your seats together, and Levi walks back with a content nod of appreciation. You are not married, and marriage sucks about as much as class separation on a 30 foot long plane, but it has its benefits.
Masks on, regardless. No debates. Pandemic or not, the mask stays on. Do not perceive him, keep the pressurized air sharing to a minimum.
Doesn’t wander much in the airport. There’s nothing in there that he hasn’t seen already, except for the marked up prices on touristy t-shirts.
And if you wander, he’ll usually just sit in the waiting area to watch your bags while you window shop and do your thing. If you’re gone for more than 30 mins, he might call, under the pretenses of, “Making sure you didn’t get lost. You know that Starbucks was near gate 41 to the left, not the right, right?” Like he’s a comedian or something 🙄
He does encourage you to get snacks before you board, tho. Airplane food is gross, and he would much rather pay for a $13 sandwich that you can snack on later, than for you to have to eat mush.
He’s got a little portable mug he takes with him for when he’s wants to buy a hot drink before getting on his flight. It’s cute.
Doesn’t fall asleep on the plane ever. No matter how long the flight is—at most, he’ll take a quick power nap somewhere in the middle if it’s over 9 hours, but other than that, he’s good to go.
Doesn’t mind if you fall asleep, and he always adjusts your neck pillow to make sure you don’t get cramps.
Jean
Travel champion. This man loves being in the airport even though he’s convinced it’s a time capsule, he fucking loves it.
King of “your airport fashion matters, babe.” Not necessarily wearing a whole three piece suit, but he does put in a little effort; it’s not just the first pair of sweats he has laying around.
Swears coffee tastes better in the airport. It does not. That does not stop him from buying it. He should learn to quit tho, especially for someone who hates airplane bathrooms as much as he does.
Charming with all the security personnel and desk assistants. You could be checking in for a flight at 4am, and Jean’s got people smiling and cheery for their shifts.
Bitches about the selection of movies on the flight, and learns to just download his own ahead of time. Gets really startled when he’s watching something and the flight attendants try to grab his attention for food or drinks—the very loud, classic, Jean Kirstein “HUH?”
On that note, he also gets startled by the loudspeaker announcements in the airport. He doesn’t know why he has to hear about American Airlines flight 2170 to Cancun, when he is not on American Airlines flight 2170 to Cancun.
Not opposed to paying extra for better airplane food or drinks on the plane if it’s the right time of day. He always finds something to toast to, plus he likes to treat you whenever and wherever he can.
Takes care of your overhead luggage and helps out the people around him if he sees they’re struggling. Gets shy when you call him a gentleman for it, and he rubs his neck, grumbling, “I was just helping the line move a little faster.”
Great timing, generous, will pick up your checked bags for you, and already rented a car a week in advance: 10/10 travel buddy.
Porco
He doesn’t like planes and there’s no solid reason why—nothing bad happened to him as a kid, and it’s not even that rare unfortunate incidents freak him out or anything—something flying just makes him a bit uneasy.
He won’t say it though, and he tries to keep it together when you’re checking in, but you can tell he’s anxious once you’re sitting and waiting for your flight to board.
He’ll ask to switch seats if you have the window seat, because somehow the feeling of being boxed in between the plane wall/window and another person makes it feel more like a car than a plane and he’s okay with that.
Going to the airport is one of the few times he hair won’t be styled, and falls in his face a bit. He usually throws on a beanie to cover it up, but you think he looks pretty cute either way.
Can’t usually fall asleep and he hates it because he just sits there thinking about the worst for the entire duration of the flight. But when you travel with him for the first time and coax him into taking a nap it’s so much better.
It’s about the only time he’ll let himself be publicly babied by you; but it makes everything so much easier that he doesn’t even mind.
So now, whenever you get on flights, he just puts his hood up, lays his head on your shoulder and waits for the magic to happen.
Bonus: you’re traveling with his friends, and Pieck and Marcel past to your seats, surprised to see Porco fast asleep on your shoulder. Pieck squeals, going on about how you must be a wizard to have gotten him to nap, to which Marcel just shakes his head, “Nah, he’s just really in love with her. Look at his face, that’s the calmest he’s been since he was five.”
Connie
Loves the airport. Not an ounce of organization in his soul though. By that I mean, yeah, he’s probably forgotten his passport at home, or forgotten that a full size bottle of body wash cannot go into his carry-on luggage.
Forgets to wear shoes that easy to take off and is fumbling over himself after the security check trying to lace them back up or put them back on.
Likes for you guys to have coordinating sweatsuits, and even though you don’t travel super often, Connie’s got at least 3 pairs of them lined up for you guys.
Sweet enough to drop plans or rearrange his schedule to travel with you if you were originally gonna be alone. He knows you can handle yourself, but he doesn’t want for you to travel alone if you don’t have to, especially if you’re going someplace far and/or for an extended period of time.
He always finds breakfast food to eat before he gets on his flight (if you two even have time to spare for food that is). It could be 9pm, but Connie’s asking for a breakfast wrap.
Hates waiting in the little pre-flight area. Claims it’s boring as hell and that’s why there’s no reason to get there 3 hours early 🙄🙄
He always spends at least 30 minutes browsing all the movie and TV show options available on-board, loudly exclaiming in excitement when they have something cool to watch—only to fucking fall asleep 10 minutes later. Right on top of you when he was oh-so-excited to watch Madagascar 2.
Always steals the aisle seat, even if it’s yours. It’s probably for the best though, because he has to get up to pee at least twice, no matter how short your flight is.
Makes some cheeky remark about you meeting him in the bathroom. He doesn’t mean it... unless he does. Unfortunately, you’ve never... successfully been able to do that out of fear of being caught by the flight attendants, but there have been a few quickies in the “family” (“It’s ethical, because technically we’re participating in the act of making a family, babe”) bathroom before you boarded. It’s his fault, not yours.
Armin
He really likes planes, and traveling in general. I think trains would be his favorite mode of transportation, but airplanes are good too.
I hate to say it but he claps when the plane lands. I will not elaborate or defend my stance on this.
Prefers the window seat because he likes to look out at the clouds as he’s in the sky.
He took his passport photo a little before he cut his hair, so the security personnel always hold it up and flicker between his ID photo and his current appearance a few times before stamping it. It makes him a little embarrassed because he can’t tell if they think he looks better or worse and sometimes he’s really fighting for his life convincing them that that’s him in the picture 😭
Listens to music rather than downloading a movie or watching a show, and always brings wire headphones to the airport so that it’s easier to share and listen with you.
If you fall asleep on him first, he’ll likely fall asleep on you shortly after. If he’s tired enough, he’ll fall asleep first, though he’s somewhat embarrassed and disappointed because he wanted to see the descent and skyline outside.
When he’s not asleep or window-watching, he’s somewhat fidgety out of excitement, rather than nervousness. He’s excited to be traveling and looks forward to wherever you’re going, even if it is just a weekend long work trip.
Hates traveling alone, though. It just feels particularly lonely to him to be going someplace foreign without company by his side. So, he’ll call you at every checkpoint and send you updates.
He only ever buys two things in duty free: shot glasses with the name of the city/country you’re traveling to, and whatever variety of button down short-sleeves are available to him.
Erwin
You knew this was coming, but this man is absolutely at the airport 18 hours before your flight takes off, and he’s driving like a manic getting there, like you don’t have all the time in the world.
Fascinated by anything and everything in duty free. Definitely spends more money than necessary on your return flight on the grounds that he was getting a good deal.
Exchanges money in the airport and keeps cash in his fanny pack. There’s no traveling without the fanny pack.
Plays crossword puzzles on his phone on the plane, and it’s just about one of the only games he has. That and Candy Crush—I get the feeling he’d be on level 500+ of that game and he always knocks out at least 10 levels on a flight.
Always a little surprised when he feels his your head on his shoulder, but he says nothing, and acts like he didn’t even notice, but there’s a telling little smile on his face.
Takes the most foul selfies of him and your sleeping self. In his defense, he had the best intentions; but that angle was flattering nobody. It’s too bad he’d already paid for the in-flight wifi and sent it to Hange because now you’ll never live them down.
You could probably get him to put on a (skincare) face mask during your flight. He forgets to take it off tho, and if you don’t tell him, he’d fully walk through customs with it on his face.
Accidentally gets drunk because he doesn’t understand that just because he can handle several glasses of whiskey in his favorite bar on a Friday night, does not mean it will translate on a plane.
#anonymous#yeah this is a roast of erwin a bit but im right i know i am#aot x reader#levi x reader#jean x reader#jean kirstein x reader#connie springer x reader#armin x reader#erwin x reader#porco x reader#aot headcanons
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did you mean it?
read on ao3.
It’s a total of 3 significant events that led to this, her forehead knocked against his, breaths heavy and mingled, eyes wide and hearts bleeding.
It’s a total of 3 significant events that led to this, her forehead knocked against his, breaths heavy and mingled, eyes wide and hearts bleeding.
The first event isn’t really an event at all. It’s a prologue, necessary context to truly understand the monumentalism of this moment. It’s the memory of her eyes, piercing and reproachful, being the first thing that he saw after losing his mother. It’s shared trauma and oreos while they’re young and naive. It’s truces and training and growing up too soon together. It’s stargazing and stupid jokes saving eachother in every possible way. It's the culmination of the years Percy spent growing, learning, and being with Annabeth, and the unknown and therefore repressed feelings that came with it. Feelings are like the sea in that way, they don’t take well to being restrained. Percy has found that you cannot box in oceans or sentiments, they always find a way to spill over and out, with no regard for the destruction left in its wake.
The second event is Dionysus deciding on a whim that the inhabitants of his camp are ‘uncultured pests’ and taking it upon himself to set up a field trip for campers to the Ancient Greek Cultural Center in New York. (Percy thinks it’s really just to distract kids that were still shaken up about the battle at camp and the losses it caused. But, Dionysus would never say so. He’s far too proud to admit to caring for the children he’s been assigned to look after.) Argus loaded all the kids he could fit into the strawberry vans, as Chiron listed all the reasons this was a terrible idea. As it turns out, his worries were in vain as miraculously, no monsters attacked, and no mortal asked too many questions. No, instead, the only hitch in his plan was the glaring inaccuracies of the Center sending Dionysus into a fit of rage. He ranted for so long, their 2 hour long field trip ended up lasting until the place closed.
Event the third is the ridiculously long line leading to the mens room at the rundown gas station they’ve stopped at, causing Percy to traipse into the woods, deep enough to know that no one other than the squirrels were watching, and pee there. Unbeknownst to him, Annabeth had decided to take a quick walk in the forest as well, (in the opposite direction of his peeing endeavor) with the purpose of clearing her head. Both returned to the parking lot after 10 minutes, with no truck in sight. The gas station lights are turned off on the inside and the door sign has switched decidedly to closed. They look at each other in disbelief.
“Percy?”
“Yeah?”
“Uh...did they…”
“They didn’t. They wouldn’t.”
“I think they would.”
“They would never-”
“I have pretty solid evidence to the contrary.” Annabeth deadpans, casually letting her hair loose and hopping on top of the miniature gas machine for motorcycles.
“But, how did-”
“No Argus.” Which means, no all-seeing eyes to double check the headcount. Percy begins to pace.
“Okay, but-”
“Two trucks.” Both of which are probably assuming Percy and Annabeth are on the other.
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
“Oh, gods.”
“Leave them out of this.”
“Those fuckers.”
“Which ones?” She asks. He looks up and she’s fighting a smile. He pointedly doesn’t notice the way her mouth curls up, or the way her hair falls around her shoulders and down her back, or how pretty she looks lit up by the neon red lights of the gas stations prices, which apparently doesn’t turn off when they close.
“Do you know something I don’t?”
“I know lots of things you don’t.”
“Ha-ha. I mean about how to get out of here.”
“Ohhhhh, let me think.” She wrinkles her nose in faux concentration, tilting her chin up towards the sky. Percy is too annoyed to think it’s adorable. “Nope, not a clue.”
“Your phone?”
“Left it on the truck.”
“Iris message?”
“Percy, it’s dark as shit.” The laughter she’s been holding in comes pouring out. Nevermind that he feels his chest sigh in relief at hearing it for the first time since their quest, this is serious.
“You’re laughing.”
“Just a little.”
“You’re telling me, you don’t have a brilliant plan to get us on a truck.”
“Yes.”
“So, we’re stuck here.”
“Yes.”
“And you’re laughing?”
“You’re just really funny when you’re stressed.” She giggles. He can’t remember the last time she giggled. He missed it. He hates her.
“Oh my gods.”
“Okay, okay, look, I’m sorry. We’re halfway to camp right?” He nods. “I’m sure they’ll figure out we’re missing before they get all the way back to camp, but let's say, worst case scenario, they don’t-”
“Not helping-”
“And they make it the rest of the way back to camp. It took us four hours to get to the center, which means camp is two hours away, so if they make it the two hours back to camp before they realize we’re missing, and they drive back up-”
“C’mon ‘Beth, you know I suck at math.”
“We’re stuck here for five hours at most.”
“Five hours?”
“And that's if no passing cars let us use their phones to hurry the process up.”
“Five hours.”
She’s laughing again. “Seriously, what is so funny?”
“It’s just-” Her cheeks are red and she’s very poorly attempting to suppress her smile. “You’ve been calm in so many life or death situations, and being stuck at a gas station is what finally breaks through.”
“It’s nighttime.” She stares at him for a moment and then she’s laughing again, full bodied real laughter, and he's laughing too.
And it’s as if this gas station became their own personal Ogygia, an oasis, a resting place for them to be stupid kids again. And they don’t talk about the battle, or Rachel, or the volcano, or any of the million things set on tearing them apart. They talked about his mom getting serious about his new boyfriend, about Tyson’s underwater adventures and Grover’s searching shenanigans.
They smack talk with no real heat about who the better fighter is (Oh please, Seaweed Brain, I've been training since before you could tie your own shoes.), and argue about which ancient hero had the greatest journey (Hercules, are you kidding? Did you even read the myth?). They break into the gas station for snacks (What the fuck, Annabeth, where’d you learn to pick a lock? No, I wouldn’t prefer you break the glass, you psycho. Oh my gods, can you really break the glass?), and dissolve into giggles as they try to fit five drachma into the cash register.
They end up back outside sitting on the gas machines facing one another from three feet away.
“Your mom called me the other day.”
Percy, who’d been lazily squinting up at the murky sky, searching for any sign of stars, whipped his head to look at her. “What?”
“She called me on the phone. We talked for a bit. She said she wanted to make sure I was alright.”
“That sounds like something she would do.” He sighs and hops down from the machine, turning away from her, hoping to hide his blush from the dim light. “She cornered me on one of my off weekends, asked what was going on with us.”
“Oh.” He hears the shifting of fabric and assumes she followed him in sliding off the gas machine.
“Yeah.” It’s silent for a long time before she responds.
“What did you say?” She asks, her voice smaller than it was moments ago. He hears her scratching at the flat metal top of the machine. “When she asked, what did you say?”
He runs his finger through his hair, and one gets caught in a particularly large snarl. “Doesn’t matter.”
“It matters to me.” She whispers and gods he’s terrified but he really doesn’t have a choice when her voice wavers like that. Her words shake and every ounce of his being tells him to do whatever it takes to soothe it.
“I said we were fighting. That there wasn’t one sole reason for it, just a bunch of little reasons. I told her that I scared you when I….went away for two weeks last summer. And that you didn’t like bringing Rachel on your quest. I told her that we….. disagree about how to best handle Luke. That I probably wanted to protect you more than I wanted to listen to you.” She laughs softly and he blames what he says next on her laugh. It is the catalyst for everything that follows.
“I told her that we’d be okay. Because no matter what happens I’m always gonna love you.”
He hears her breath catch. He doesn’t have to look back to know she’s turned to face him fully. “Did you mean it?” She calls. He doesn’t answer. The words haven’t caught in his throat, they’ve spontaneously combusted in his vocal chords and he doesn’t think he’ll ever speak again.
The sound of gravel crunching gets closer until suddenly she's beside him, and he didn’t tell his torso to twist toward her, he thinks she might just be his center of gravity.
“Did you mean it?”
She’s looking up at him, and her hair smells like lemons, and her cheeks are pink, and her eyelashes go on for miles, and her sunspots are better than stars. And it’s as if she pulls the words right out of him, he’s hypnotized by everything about her.
“Of course I meant it.”
She exhales and closes her eyes and while he mourns the loss of the sight, his body moves on it’s own accord again and he’s edging closer and closer and she opens her eyes and here they are.
Their noses brush, and this time he closes his eyes, and their noses brush just so, and…
Whoa.
He was wrong, it wasn't just those three significant events that to her forehead knocked against his, breaths heavy and mingled, eyes wide and hearts positively bleeding. It’s clear he’s been waiting his entire life for this moment at this shitty gas station.
Waiting for this. Waiting for her.
They kiss for a moment or an eternity, and they fit. His hands are on her hips and hers clutch at his shirt before sliding up to his throat, and it’s like his soul is whispering, oh there you are.
And then she’s pulling back, so she has just enough space to shake her head without disconnecting from his forehead.
She's breathless when she whispers, “This is a bad idea.”
His hands trail up and down her forearm of their own accord, and when he whispers back he’s breathless too. “Yeah, really bad idea.”
Her hands slide up from his chest to his shoulders, and then she’s kissing him again, with purpose, and he’s kissing back like his life depends on it because he thinks it might, thinks if he lets go of her he’d die on the spot.
It seems his theory might get tested when she pulls back again just far enough to whisper against his lips, “Is it always like that?”
He kisses her again, once, twice, because he can’t help it and whispers back, “I don’t know, you were my first kiss.”
He’d released any serious hold he had on her the moment she hesitated, but then she’s rocking back up to meet him halfway and his entire body thinks thank the gods. He actually sighs his relief into her mouth, as his hands desperately reach for her face, some fingers tangling in her hair, and their lips are magnets, opposites that don’t have a choice but to pull together. Despite how much he wants to keep doing this forever, he has to tell her.
“I don’t wanna lose you, again.” He means not ever, but he figures she understands the severity in his voice. She’s running her hand through his hair, and his slide up and down her back, and she knocks her nose against his as she answers, “I know, me either. I’m confused, this is confusing me.” And she tilts her chin just so, like she did a million years ago, and this time he kisses her.
They kiss for an infinity, he gets to taste her laughter when she giggles at the absurdness of it all, and it’s better than ambrosia. He kisses her until he doesn’t know anything else, until his entire universe is Annabeth Chase, with her cheeks and her curls and her lips. She is everything.
And then headlights penetrate their universe, voices bring an end to their infinity, and Chiron is speaking but it’s nothing, it’s all white noise because she’s no longer in his arms, and his center of gravity is being ripped away and he hears someone ask, “What’d you guys do?”
He’s still looking at her face when she answers, “You know, tried not to strangle each other mostly.”
But, she looks back before she turns all the way around and her gaze is charged and her lips quirk with the secret they share.
He is so screwed.
#so i wrote this in like two hours and its probably a mess but. here you go ig.#aoah ch 3 will be out soon but in the meantime#heres this lol#percabeth#percabeth fic#my fic#my writing#if you comment or rb i will die for you
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*whispers* oh, hi!
can I request a little thing with Niki Lauda and his beautiful curls? Maybe Niki and the reader going on a roadtrip together and stoping somewhere for the night? 🥺👀
Bouncy Road Trip [Niki Lauda x Reader]
Words Count: 1.6k
Author’s note: It is my first time venturing into Niki’s mind, I hope I did him and your request right ❤️
“Well, it seems a bit late to think again” he remarked, as always his character would strike, even with you.
You chuckled, too used to his antics to really get mad about it.The two of you decided to go to the next race by car, something easy, a road trip to get there directly, enjoy the city, the food, have time to study the car and the track while others are still enjoying the whole set of parties and interviews that followed the race that just ended.
“You were happy to miss Hunt’s drunk hugs” you told him and he responded with a little shake of his shoulders, a parody of a shiver.You came to the idea that he enjoyed to play this rivalry thing way more than he admitted.
It was something that gave him an edge, something to joke about easily in order to keep his focus on the cars and the changes he wanted to do.You got into the car, you’d drive first because he was just out of the race and wasn’t up to do it again.You were hyped to do the road trip, to be together in such a small space, to be allowed to be so close for such a long time.
You put on your favourite radio station, settled comfortably your seat and wore your sunglasses.
Road trip mood: on.
The sad part was how Niki road trip mood was: nap.
He was rightfully tired after the race, after the nervous days that came before it, but you couldn’t help to feel a bit upset about it.It was typical Niki, reasonable priorities over feelings, he probably didn’t even suspect all those expectations you set up for such a small event.So you drove quality, enjoyed the music and the soft breeze, you looked at him from time to time as he snored lightly, his soft curls unruly moving over his face.
Focus, the road is ahead.
After a couple of hours you felt a warm hand cover yours changing the gear.
“If you want to kill this car you could just run into a tree and make it quicker” Niki grumbled sleepily straightening his posture cracking his neck from side to side.
“Where are we?” He asked as he picked the map rubbing his eyes with his hand as you pointed at it on the map and you smirked
“Good morning anyway sleepyhead” you said shaking your head lightly.Usual Niki.He studied the map silently picking a bottle of water you stacked on side to have a sip, his unruly curls bouncing lightly catching your eyes once more.
“You have seen the race, didn’t you?”You were surprised by the question “of course”
“Do you think he deserved it? Honest to God, I just need an honest opinion of somebody that is utterly deficient of keeping a car for good”
You let out a breathy chuckle staring ahead, it was a compliment and you knew it, it was just his way of complimenting you, to tell you that he knows you have no bias.
“I think he didn’t, but around the beginning he did got the best of your attention” you say after a moment “I mean, he provokes you always and your starts are always a bit off, you’re not in the right mind, I can see how you change along the race and then you show your true colours”
He listens and doesn’t add anything.Maybe you have offended him, maybe not, he rarely lets you know.“At the next gas station let’s stretch our legs a bit, I am hungry” he says and you nod quietly.
When at the station you went to the bathroom first as Niki brought a couple of sandwiches and some snack, along with more water.
“Liquorice, for real?” You ask him looking inside of the bag
“So you can avoid smoking and pestering the car and your lungs” he groans back as he ate quietly looking at you.You look at him as there’s no aggression from him, it is just Niki worrying for your health, in Niki’s way.He is still upset about coming second, again. It was starting to rub him in the wrong way.
“You know, I have seen there’s this exhibition in the local museum, we should see that, on a free afternoon while the mechanics apply the changes you like, I read that the museums here are open until 10 pm in summer”
He looks at you and nods slowly
“Only if you play the guide”
“Sounds like a deal then” you smirk and he makes half of a smile, he is content.You move close to him as your hand moves toward those unruly curls that scream to be touched, but he stands up throwing the trash in the closest bin.
The second half of the drive before your stop at the motel is on Niki, but you can’t sleep.
Sure you put on your sunglasses and got nuzzled on the passenger seat but you couldn’t look away from him, everything was perfect: from the relaxation of driving at a comfort speed to the engine singing for him, the smoothness of the drive made it feel unreal, like you weren’t even moving but you were only still.
You moved up taking your book, you opened it up, it was a poetry book but one of your favourite female authors, you leaned your back comfortably as you started reading.
Niki looked at you moving his beautiful long fingers over the radio lowering the volume.
“Read out loud”
You were surprised by such a request, but you did.He listened, he was passive but focused on those words letting those unroll over him.You could see his mind was feeling guilty, anger for losing soon turning into that quiet silence he pulled himself into, the guilty one.He had high standard for himself and for others, but on himself he was the hardest and, most of the times, the cruelest.
The sun was going down and you put the book away staring at him once more, you leaned in, his eyes showing that sad frustration and your hand moved on its own mean over an action you have been craving throughout the day slowly reaching for his head and digging your fingers into his hair.
A soft breath of relaxation left his lips, your fingers trailing through the bottom of his head just above his neck and up again.
He rolls lightly his shoulders not commenting your action, but he is clearly enjoying it. So you keep going, you brush your fingers slow and nice, you pull the curls a bit only to make more room to your fingers, you move your hand up on his temple and slowly scratch on the side of his temple going back into the curls.He licks his lips lightly relaxing over your attentions.
The radio is still low, nobody is letting out a sound.
“Fuck”
He curses as he yanks the wheel suddenly and you almost get thrown on the back of the car by the sudden motion.He almost missed the exit to go to your motel.You settle yourself back in place quietly, bend down to recollect your book that flew on the car floor.
Once he parked Niki was the first to leave the car to collect your bags, you leaned your back on the seat staring in front of you nibbling on the bottom of your lip.
Maybe it wasn’t the right moment, you never knew with Niki.
Maybe you fucked it up.
Once you settled into your room you got some room service, the tv was on some old 50’s film in black and white, Niki digging on some chicken salad finally in his comfortable night clothes and a night vest.You were used to the silences, you were used to share those with him, but sometimes it was gutting, you kept wondering if you messed up. If you did something wrong or what was the thing you did wrong. Your own insecurities eating you alive. Once he finished his dinner you showered putting on some night clothing and resting on the big bed beside him as you watched the movie.Then he slowly moved down resting his head on your lap.He looked up at you from that position, the blue light of the screen the only source of illumination.You stare back at his eyes moving your head on side with a little smirk, it looks like somebody enjoyed it back in the car.
But you don’t tease him, you learned not to, and you just go back to that process. He closes his eyes enjoying it. Your hands also enjoying to be back to unruly those wild curls he always tamed, the freedom to be able to do something so simple and so intimate.
“You know I need you right?” He says softly, not even opening one eye, you keep touching his curls, but this time you let him be the one without confirms.He opened his eyes as he slowly looked up at you raising onto his arms.
“You’re my soft side, you’re the art and the beauty and the poetry. I cannot be that, I am not that, but you are, and you, you do me good, you do me better, make me better”
You smile, because he never speaks up, but when he does, he just blows you away.You lean in for a well earned kiss, your hand slowly slipping behind his neck as he pushes you down on the bed.
Tags: @cazzyimagines @that-stupid-head-tilt-thing
Let me know if anybody wants to be added and I will 💕
#niki lauda fanfiction#niki lauda x reader#niki lauda rush#niki lauda headcanons#niki lauda rush 2013#request
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A lot of baby/pregnancy fic tends to focus on the end of pregnancy/the beginning of the baby’s life. But I wanted to do a little character study into Levi, so here he is over the course of 10 hours after learning Hange is preggo~ (mildly nsfw)
Ao3
10 Hours
Hour 0
“So...” She faces away from him. Her single eye locked on the sky beyond her window. Hange Zoe, fourteenth Commander of the Survey Corps, will not turn to face him. She is sat at her desk, hands folded on its top. Levi cannot see her expression, but he expects that it is as grim as her tone.
He braces himself for bad news.
“I’m pregnant.”
The birds beyond the window stop singing. The clouds cease their trek across the cerulean sky. Levi’s breath is stuck in his chest, a painful lump between his lungs.
“Come again?”
This time she does look at him, pinning him to the floor with an emotionless glance over her shoulder.
“Pregnant. Expecting. Vertically impaired bun in the proverbial oven.”
The short joke is lost on him. He exhales sharply, like someone punched him in the gut, “Oh.”
Hange sighs and resumes her staring out the window, “Just think on it. You don’t need to say anything right now.”
Levi swallows thickly and gladly takes the excuse to exit the room. His head is spinning, heart thundering in his chest. Pregnant. It doesn’t feel real yet.
He retreats to the relative safety of his quarters.
Hour 1
Levi punches a hole in his wall with a snarl. Untoward anger radiating through his limbs.
Sheetrock and plaster rain down, dirtying his pristine floor, further incensing him. He kicks a second hole in the wall, shouting with the impact of his booted heel. More debris falls.
He paces back and forth, occasionally tugging a hand through his hair. He’s sweating, he feels filthy.
But he knows that Hange isn’t lying. This is not the sort of sick joke she would pull. But they had been so careful, hadn’t they?
He replays the penultimate moments of their last few encounters over in his head, and quickly realizes that they haven’t been as careful as he’d thought. There is nothing quite like losing himself in the depths of Hange... Commander Hange.
Shit. He curses himself and perches on the foot of his bed, resting his head in his hands.
What the fuck is he supposed to do now?
Hour 2
Eventually he finds himself spread eagle across his bed. His eyes trace along the wooden grain of the ceiling. His head still spins when he thinks too deeply about anything, and a strange ache has settled into his chest, like a fist around his heart.
Does he love Hange Zoe? Would it be fair to bring a child into the world if he didn’t?
They’ve never said the words aloud to one another, but he knows in his heart-of-hearts that he does love her. She anchors him to reality, instills in him a drive to live where there might have only been despair.
His fists clench and unclench rhythmically in his linens. Levi shuts his slate eyes and breathes deeply, trying to calm and steady himself.
He is in love with Hange Zoe. He can admit that to himself now, in what feels like the most dire of circumstances.
But can he love a child? Is there enough room in his heart?
He rolls onto his side and covers his face with a pillow.
It still feels unreal. A bad dream playing out before his waking eyes.
Hour 3
He oscillates back into denial, then anger.
Who are they to bring a child into this terrible, cruel world? An Eldian child, a scapegoat, a martyr for Marley to string up and burn.
She has to be lying. Hange cannot possibly be telling him the truth. No Walls, no Gods, no omnipotent powers could be so terribly sordid as to bring an infant into the world now. Not while they are on the brink of war.
Hour 4
He remembers his childhood; years spent wasting away in a whorehouse. Starving while his mother wasted her ill-gotten wages on booze. Levi was a bastard, fatherless. The only male role-model he’d ever had was Kenny, and look where that had gotten him.
“I can’t be a father,” he whispers into the dying light of his quarters.
He doesn’t know how.
Hour 5
He takes his supper in the mess hall when he would normally eat within the privacy of his quarters. He hopes that the noise might distract, that interacting with his... his kids... might help him to better grasp his current situation.
The irony of it isn’t lost on him as he sits in silence amongst his young comrades. In a way he has been a father to them where their own had become titan food.
He watches Sasha scarf her food with abandon, Connie teasing her between his own hearty mouthfuls. He watches Jean roll his eyes at the two of them, then take a moment to proudly pet the patchy stubble that has begun to grow in around his chin.
Levi listens to Armin excitedly pontificate to Mikasa and Eren about Marlean cuisine and meal customs. Mikasa listens on in contented silence, a small smile on her lips. Eren’s eyes are distant, like he isn’t listening at all.
Levi wants to smack him on the back of his head. The twerp has been acting up a lot more as of late. Secretly, it worries him.
His kids.
Who needs a baby when they have it this good?
He sighs and looks down to his tray, food untouched.
They’re Hange’s kids, too.
Their baby. Theirs.
Hour 6
He returns to his quarters, stomach tied up in painful knots. He remembers Kenny, how the man had taught him the cruel, ruthless ways of the Underground.
He remembers Isabel and Furlan. How he had allowed himself to love so selflessly only to be burned and brutalized in the end. What if that happened to Hange? Hange who he had come to rely on more than anything, anyone. Childbirth was a dangerous thing, everyone knew that. Even with the new, fancy anti-biotics being imported from the mainland the risks were high.
What if he lost her?
Her remembers Erwin who he had loved as a father, a brother, a martyr and a dear comrade. He remembers his Commander dying on that rooftop in Shiganshina. He remembers the blood. Icy blue eyes cold and dead as Hange peeled back his lids.
Levi’s stomach rolls and he flips his upper half over the side of the bed and promptly vomits onto the floor.
Behind his eyes an image has begun to take shape. Hange laid out in bed, naked from the waist down. Bloody, sweaty, weak and dying as a shapeless creatures squalls on her chest.
“No,” Levi rasps, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
He feels so weak, so helpless in the face of this indominable thing. The sleep that takes him is unbidden and restless.
Hour 7
Levi dreams of a cabin tucked away amongst the massive boles of the trees beyond wall Rose. Smoke rises from the chimney, filling the crisp forest air with a pleasant, homey smell.
Sunlight breaks through the canopy and speckles the ground. Everything is bright and beautiful and alive. The simple wooden door of the cabin beckons to him, and he is helpless but to answer its call.
Inside the space is cozy and quaint. The kitchen and living area inhabiting the same space. Hange is waiting for him, sitting on a small, plush sofa. She isn’t wearing her eye patch, revealing the milky iris and silvery scar she usually guards so carefully.
“Levi,” she beams at him. For a moment he is stunned by her simple, unkempt beauty.
He knows he is meant to be anxious over something, but suddenly he cannot remember what it is.
He sits down beside her takes her face between his hands and kisses her.
I love you, he wants to admit the truth. He’s ready. But his lips will not part. The words will not pass his tongue.
When they part Hange’s expression darkens, long shadows falling over her hawkish features.
“Levi...” she breathes.
Shadows begin to creep in from the corners of the cabin. The walls suddenly feel as though they are caving in, and suddenly his peaceful dream has become a nightmare.
“You’re pregnant,” The sound of his own voice is alien and distant in his ears. He feels small. Smaller than usual. Miniscule and helpless. Why can he speak now?
Hange nods and then the pair of them are besieged by shadows.
Hour 8
Levi sits bolt upright in his bed, sweat is gathered on his brow and sharp shivers wrack his limbs. He pants and wipes his face with his palm.
“Fuck,” he curses.
He’s used to nightmares, but more often than not Hange is in bed beside him waiting to soothe them away.
Here, in his quarters, he is completely and utterly alone.
Levi doesn’t want to be alone anymore.
He tugs on his boots and stumbles out into the hallway, not caring how disheveled he must appear to any passers-by. He wants to be with Hange, he’s cursing himself for leaving her alone to begin with.
How selfish does that make him? He’s not the one bearing the brunt of this burden. It isn’t his body and life that are at risk. What must she be feeling now? All alone because her lover left her in a fit of selfish upset.
When he reaches her door he doesn’t bother to knock. It opens with a rush of air and he finds her where he left her; sitting at her desk, gazing out the window. Her elbows rest on the dry ink of a half finished letter.
“Levi?” She spins sideways in her chair, facing him entirely.
He shakes his head and closes the distance between them in two easy strides. He seizes her face between his hands and kisses her roughly, because he isn’t good with words, so he’ll show her how he feels.
“Mmpf!” She makes a noise of surprise, but then she melts into him, hands lifting to rest on his chest, then caressing around to link behind his neck.
When they part she gives a small, sad smile and says, “I didn’t think I’d see you again tonight.”
“I was being an idiot,” Levi grunts, and he helps her to her feet. “A selfish idiot.”
“No you weren’t, Levi. It’s a lot to take in, I know,” her thumb brushes his lower lip. “I love you.”
Hour 9
The words are difficult to speak, so he shows her out he feels. He shows her in the reverent way he peels her clothes from her body, the rough, desperate caress of his touch, the slide of his thin lips over her chin and collarbones and breasts.
He holds her hips and kisses from her navel to her abdomen, and he kisses her there too because despite everything he does want this baby. He loves this baby already, because it is him and it is Hange. The best of the both of them taking shape in her womb.
Levi abandons all gentleness as he makes love to her. It is animal. Primal. His hands will leave bruises on her hips, and his lips suck hers swollen.
When he finishes, just after her, he doesn’t bother to pull out. It doesn’t matter anymore. And as he pumps himself into her he whispers raspy and desperate into her sternum, “I love you.”
The words hurt in such a sublime way. He’s never said them before, not once in his life. But here he is, speaking them, meaning them, bleeding them from his soul into hers.
He loves her, and he’ll love this baby, too.
Hour 10
They lay in bed, Hange’s fingers comb rhythmically through his hair, and she presses the occasional kiss to his crown.
Levi has one arm wound around her waist, his cheek pressed into her sternum, his other hand cupping her abdomen, thumb caressing gentle circles into the skin there.
“I know you’re afraid,” Hange finally speaks. Her voice is soft and loaded with emotion. “I am, too. But I think we deserve this, Levi. It’s a chance for a life beyond the Survey Corps, for a real family.”
Levi tilts his head up and kisses her gently. She’s right, but he still cannot help but remember his vision and his nightmare.
“There’s so much that could go wrong,” his voice is pained. He holds her tighter.
Hange sighs and rests her cheek on his head, “You’re not wrong, but we’ve got eight months to figure things out, okay? For tonight, just hold me.”
Levi sighs and melts into her, shutting his eyes.
In Hange’s arms his sleep is dreamless.
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STAYING ALIVE MASTERPOST, FROM A BROKE TEEN WITH ADHD
here you go. some down to earth tips on how to not die metally nor physically.
tired of those "drink three liters of water everyday uwu" and "wake up at 5 am" and "buy a bath bomb and a fec mask and some other things you don't have the money for" shit? i'm here for ya.
1. NOT DYING
eat at least three meals a day, one of which m u s t be warm and above 300 kcal (it can be istant ramen with an egg added if you have to)
you technically should shower everyday, but we know how it is. A change of clothes is sometimes enough.
DRY SHAMPOO AND BABY WIPES!!!
keep bottles with water everywhere. On your desk, near that spot on the floor you always end up sitting on, near your bed, basically whenever you know you spend a lot of time. No need to get up and go to the kitchen will help. Obviously change the water in the bottles as often as you can.
Get some form of physical activity. It doesn't have to be much, you can for example replace scrolling on tiktok by walking around your room and scrolling on tiktok! Brilliant, isn't it? Obviously, running or doing those 10 minutes workouts from youtube is better, but you are still getting like an hour of walking.
Buy blankets. Steal blankets. Summon blankets from other dimensions. Just make sure you have a lot of warm, soft blankets in your house. You will thank me when you won't have the anergy to wash your sheets (just take them off and throw some blankets on your bed), or when the power goes out.
If you have pets, ALWAYS keep spare food that'll last for a week for them.
things to always have in the kitchen: milk, eggs, flour, rice, pasta, yeast, cheese, oil, a leafy vegetable, onions, tomatoes, apples, patatoes, some flavourful sauce, sugar, salt, spices and an emergency chocolate bar. You can make a lot of food with those. Just make sure you won't eat the chocolate too fast.
Have a lot of spare batteries. A lot.
Get urself a flashlight, a lighter, and a pocket knife.
Remember the apples? eat one a day. if you don't like apples or you can't eat them for any other reason, you can take a kiwi, banana, orange, basically something that will give you vitamins and non processed sugar.
do the dishes before your sink starts developing it's own ecosystem
drugs from that one guy around the corner = very bad time
2. NOT DYING INSIDE
Open the damn window.
Don't watch so many commentary videos. You are probably not even checking the sources, so you can easily make unjust judgement, and like. did you even hear of half of those people before?
make a discord server just for yourself. get into the habit of writing little things that happened to you there. rant about the fanfics you read. or the movies. vent there if you don't have anyone you can vent to. write your ideas there, write e v e r y t h i n g. make a section for passwords, for quick ideas, for your to do lists. you won't lose it as you do with sticky notes or notebooks. there is no risk anyone will see it. oh, and when you'll have a strong impulse to tell emily that you hate her? write that message in your private server and list all ur arguments. look at tat the next day and decide if you really mean that.
life sucks. come to peace with it.
cuddle ur pets if you have them
1 hour a day without a lot of sensory input. if you have to, reduce to half an hour.
if you find yourself scrolling endlessly through social media, make sure it's pintrest (just don't compare urself to the people here; if you have issues with that, tumblr may be better)
delete. twitter. from. your. phone.
influencers are lying to you; maybe not even intentionally. remember when you were watching that cute-aesthetic-productive morning routine, and you were wondering why your life isn't that pretty? why your room is a mess? why you cannot for the life of god be aesthetic 24/7? its the filter. don't worry about it, their lifes arent that nice either.
realize there's actually nothing stopping you from screaming as loud as you can right now. like there is no physical barrier. think about it. realize there's no actual physical barierr to many other things.
your body is your body. you can decide how it looks like; just remember it's in your greatest interest to keep it healthy.
3. BEING A LITTLE BETTER THAN JUST ALIVE
If you wear make up, take it off before you go to sleep.
moisturize your body; everything is better when your skin doesn't feel dry
have a one brand of cosmetics that you love and buy things mainly from it. they often have sets of products that complete each other. i like ziaja. it's a polish brand, it's surprisingly cheap and has nice quality
cleanser, moisturizer, face mist
of you can, change your sheets once every two weeks
do the dishes before your sink starts developing it's own ecosystem
do a deep house clean once a month (don't beat yourself up when you don't tho)
keep your workspace organized (it doesn't have to look organized to other people, remember)
sunscreen
cook your own food
keep a calendar
no money for scented candles? got ya. make a simmer pot: throw some apple peel, a couple of cinnamon sticks and whatever spices that smell good you have into a pot, add some water and simmer. boom. your house smells good, and you haven't spend 20 dollars.
If you really like candles, buy scented wax melts. it's cheaper.
Buy urself scented mists. they're pretty cheap and will make you feel A LOT better.
keep your clothes clean. if you aren't sure if that shirt thats on your chair is dirty or not, throw it in the washing mashine anyway. better be sure.
if you can, make your bed right when you get up
wear clothes that make you feel good. put some effort into your outfits. really.
4. OTHER PEOPLE
be nice to essential workers.
if you have money, give tips.
remember, you do not owe anyone love; it is not something you can force. even if they saved your life. even when they helped you in your darkest time. if you don't love them, you don't.
you don't have to be in a romantic relationship to be happy.
if you want to, date! date everyone! date girls, date boys, date nonbinary people! date people completly different than you, date people from different countries, date them!!! just make sure they're kind and won't kill you. even if you don't end up in a relationship, you can learn a lot.
don't be afraid to piss off people that deserve it
smile to strangers :)
5. NOT FAILING SCHOOL
heard of dark academia? check it out
romanticize the heck out of studying
do not let your studying be just reading the same partagraph over and over again. it won't work. believe me.
seterra for geography, quizlet for everything else
try to make yourself intrestet in whatever you are studying (watch veritasium, listen to podcasts about weird history facts)
notes are for you and you only; don't worry about them looking pretty. doodle on margins, make weird metaphors, squeeze in as much info as you can.
when you're studying, listen to music without words/in a language you don't understand.
chew gum while you study
get the forest app, get attached to the trees, focus.
don't feel guilty for taking breaks
grades aren't everything, but they are important.
eat something in school
don't just use the cheapest pens. invest a couple dollars in something that will make writing enjoyable and smooth
those study with me videos? they're great
if you like to argue with the teachers, take care of your grades becouse. they may not like you afterwards.
be nice to your classmates and help them with homework. if you don't do your homework they'll help you
executive dysfunction won't let you study? been there. sometimes it's better to wake up ealier tommorow and do that homework then.
don't feel guilty for failing a test
go to the goddamn class
don't pull all nighters oh my god don't especially on weekdays
6. OTHER LIFEHACKS
don't get involved in the crime, and if you do always have a believable explanation why you were doing it
have different alarm sounds for every day of the week
set a daily limit of money that you spend
great hobbies that don't require a lot of money; urban exploration, writing, hiking and learning other languages
thrift stores
don't eat grapefruits while on meds
nail polish removers dissolve most strong glues.
if you have a cut on your skin, desinfect it. do it. please just do it.
always have pads with you. even if you don't get periods, at least one of your friends probably does
sign up in your local library. its free
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Movies I watched in May
Sadly, I kind of skipped writing a post for April. It was a mad month with so much going on: lots of emails sent and lots of stress. I started a new job so I’m getting to grips with that... and even then, I still watched a bunch of movies. But this is about what I watched in May and, yeah… still a bunch.
So if you’re looking to get into some other movies - possibly some you’ve thought about watching but didn’t know what they were like, or maybe like the look of something you’ve never heard of - then this may help! So here’s every film I watched from the 1st to the 31st of May 2021
Tenet (2020) - 8/10
This was my third time watching Christopher Nolan’s most Christopher Nolan movie ever and it makes no sense but I still love it. The spectacle of it all is truly like nothing I’ve ever seen. I had also watched it four days prior to this watch also, only this time I had enabled audio description for the visually impaired, thinking it would make it funny… It didn’t.
Nomadland (2020) - 6/10
Chloé Zhao’s new movie got a lot of awards attention. Everyone was hyped for this and when it got put out on Disney+ I was eager to see what all the fuss was about. Seeing these real nomads certainly gave the film an authenticity, along with McDormand’s ever-praisable acting. But generally I found it quite underwhelming and lacking a lot in its pacing. Nomadland surely has its moments of captivating cinematography and enticing commentary on the culture of these people, but it felt like it went on forever without any kind of forward direction or goal.
The Prince of Egypt (1998) - 6/10
I reviewed this on my podcast, The Sunday Movie Marathon. For what it is, it’s pretty fun but nowhere near as good as some of the best DreamWorks movies.
Chinatown (1974) - 8/10
What a fantastic and wonderfully unpredictable mystery crime film! I regret to say I’ve not seen many Jack Nicholson performances but he steals the show. Despite Polanski’s infamy, it’d be a lie to claim this wasn’t truly masterful.
Howl’s Moving Castle (2004) - 8/10
Admittedly I was half asleep as I curled up on the sofa to watch this again on a whim. I watched this with someone who demanded the dubbed version over the subtitled version and while I objected heavily, I knew I’d seen the movie before so it didn’t matter too much. That person also fell asleep about 20 minutes in, so how pointless an argument it was. Howl’s Moving Castle boasts superb animation, the likes of which I’ve only come to expect of Miyazaki. The story is so unique and the colours are absolutely gorgeous. This may not be my favourite from the legendary director but there’s no denying its splendour.
Bāhubali: The Beginning (2015) - 3/10
The next morning I watched some absolute trash. This crazy, over the top Indian movie is hilarious and I could perhaps recommend it if it weren’t so long. That being said, Bāhubali was not a dumpster fire; it has a lot of good-looking visual effects and it’s easy to see the ambition for this epic story, it just doesn’t come together. There’s fun to be had with how the main character is basically the strongest man in the world and yet still comes across as just a lucky dumbass, along with all the dancing that makes no sense but is still entertaining to watch.
Seven Samurai (1954) - 10/10
If it wasn’t obvious already, Seven Samurai is a masterpiece. I reviewed this on The Sunday Movie Marathon podcast, so more thoughts can be found there.
Red Road (2006) - 6/10
Another recommendation on episode 30 of the podcast. Red Road really captures the authentic British working class experience.
Before Sunrise (1995) - 10/10
One of the best romances put to film. The first in Richard Linklater’s Before Trilogy is undoubtedly my favourite, despite its counterparts being almost equally as good. It tells the story of a young couple travelling through Europe, who happen to meet on a train and spend the day together. It is gloriously shot on location in Vienna and features some of the most interesting dialogue I’ve ever seen put to film. Heartbreakingly beautiful.
Tokyo Story (1953) - 9/10
This Japanese classic - along with being visually and sonically masterful - is a lot about appreciating the people in your life and taking the time to show them that you love them. It’s about knowing it’s never too late to rekindle old relationships if you truly want to, which is something I’ve been able to relate to in recent years. It broke my heart in two. Tokyo Story will make you want to call your mother.
Before Sunset (2004) - 10/10
Almost a decade after Sunrise, Sunset carries a sombre yet relieving feeling. Again, the performances from Julie Delpy and Ethan Hawke take me away, evoking nostalgic feelings as they stroll through the contemporary Parisian streets. There is no regret in me for buying the Criterion blu-ray boxset for this trilogy.
Before Midnight (2013) - 10/10
Here, Linklater cements this trilogy as one of the best in film history. It’s certainly not the ending I expected, yet it’s an ending I appreciate endlessly. Because it doesn’t really end. Midnight shows the troubling times of a strained relationship; one that has endured so long and despite initially feeling almost dreamlike in how idealistically that first encounter was portrayed, the cracks appear as the film forces you to come to terms with the fact that fairy-tale romances just don’t exist. Relationships require effort and sacrifice and sometimes the ones that truly work are those that endure through all the rough patches to emerge stronger.
The Holy Mountain (1973) - 10/10
Jodorowsky’s masterpiece is absolute insanity. I talked more about it on The Sunday Movie Marathon podcast.
The Grand Budapest Hotel (2014) - 10/10
Another watch for Grand Budapest because I bought the Criterion blu-ray. As unalterably perfect as ever.
Blue Jay (2016) - 6/10
Rather good up to a point. My co-hosts and I did not agree on how good this movie was, which is a discussion you can listen to on my podcast.
Shadow and Bone: The Afterparty (2021) - 3/10
For what it’s worth, I really enjoyed the first season of Shadow and Bone, which is why I wanted to see what ‘The Afterparty’ was about. This could have been a lot better and much less annoying if all those terrible comedians weren’t hosting and telling bad jokes. I don’t want to see Fortune Feimster attempt to tell a joke about oiling her body as the cast of the show sit awkwardly in their homes over Zoom. If it had simply been a half hour, 45 minute chat with the cast and crew about how they made the show and their thoughts on it, a lot of embarrassment and time-wasting could have been spared.
Wadjda (2012) - 6/10
Another recommendation discussed at length on The Sunday Movie Marathon. Wadjda was pretty interesting from a cultural perspective but largely familiar in terms of story structure.
Freddy Got Fingered (2001) - 2/10
A truly terrible movie with maybe one or two scenes that stop it from being a complete catastrophe. Tom Green tried to create something that almost holds a middle finger to everyone who watches it and to some that could be a fun experience, but to me it just came across as utterly irritating. It’s simply a bunch of scenes threaded together with an incredibly loose plot. He wears the skin of a dead deer, smacks a disabled woman over and over again on the legs to turn her on, and he swings a newborn baby around a hospital room by its umbilical cord (that part was actually pretty funny). I cannot believe I watched this again, although I think I repressed a lot of it since having seen it for the first time around five years ago.
The Twilight Saga: Breaking Dawn - Part 1 - (2011)
I have to say, these movies seem to get better with each instalment. They’re still not very good though. That being said, I’m amazed at how many times I’ve watched each of the Twilight movies at this point. This time around, I watched Breaking Dawn - Part 1 with a YMS commentary track on YouTube and that made the experience a lot more entertaining. Otherwise, this film is super dumb but pretty entertaining. I would recommend watching these movies with friends.
Solaris (1972) - 8/10
Andrei Tarkovsky’s grand sci-fi epic about the emotional crises of a crew on the space station orbiting the fictional planet Solaris is much as strange and creepy as you might expect from the master Russian auter. I had wanted to watch this for a while so I bought the Criterion blu-ray and it’s just stunning. It’s clear to see the 2001: A Space Odyssey inspiration but Solaris is quite a different beast entirely.
Jaws (1975) - 4/10
I really tried to get into this classic movie, but Jaws exhibits basically everything I don’t like about Steven Spielberg’s directing. For sure, the effects are crazily good but the story itself is poorly handled and largely uninteresting. It was just a massive slog to get through.
Darkman (1990) - 6/10
Sam Raimi’s superhero movie is so much fun, albeit massively stupid. Further discussion on Darkman can be found on episode 32 of The Sunday Movie Marathon podcast.
Darkman II: The Return of Durant (1995) - 1/10
Abysmal. I forgot the movie as I watched it. This was part of a marathon my friends and I did for episode 32 of our podcast.
Darkman III: Die Darkman Die (1996) - 1/10
Perhaps this trilogy is not so great after all. Only marginally better than Darkman II but still pretty terrible. More thoughts on episode 32 of my podcast.
F For Fake (1973) - 8/10
Rewatching this proved to be a worthwhile decision. Albeit slightly boring, there’s no denying how crazy the story of this documentary about art forgers is. The standout however, is the director himself. Orson Welles makes a lot of this film about himself and how hot his girlfriend is and it is hilarious.
The Mitchells vs. The Machines (2021) - 4/10
More style over substance, Sony’s new animated adventure wants so much to be in trend with the current internet culture but it simply doesn’t understand what it’s emulating. There’s a nyan cat reference, for crying out loud. For every joke that works, there are about ten more that do not and were it not for the wonderful animation, it simply wouldn’t be getting so much praise.
Taxi Driver (1976) - 10/10
The first movie I’ve seen in a cinema since 2020 and damn it was good to be back! I’ve already reviewed Taxi Driver in my March wrap-up but seeing it in the cinema was a real treat.
Irreversible (2002) - 8/10
One of the most viscerally horrendous experiences I’ve ever had while watching a movie. I cannot believe a friend of mine gave me the DVD to watch. More thoughts on episode 32 of The Sunday Movie Marathon podcast. Don’t watch it with the family.
The Golden Compass (2007) - 1/10
I had no recollection of this being as bad as it is. The Golden Compass is the definition of a factory mandated movie. Nothing it does on its own is worth any kind of merit. I would say, if you wanted an experience like what this tries to communicate, a better option by far is the BBC series, His Dark Materials. More of my thoughts can be found in the review I wrote on Letterboxd.
Antichrist (2009) - 8/10
Lars von Trier is nothing if not provocative and I can understand why someone would not like Antichrist, but I enjoyed it quite a lot. After watching it, I wrote a slightly disjointed summary of my interpretations of this highly metaphorical movie in the group chat, so fair warning for a bit of spoilers and graphic descriptions:
It's like, the patriarchy, man! Oppression! Men are the rational thinkers with big brains and the women just cry and be emotional. So she's seen as crazy when she's smashing his cock and driving a drill through his leg to keep him weighted down. Like, how does he like it, ya know?
So then she mutilates herself like she did with him and now they're both wounded, but the animals crowd around her (and the crow that he couldn't kill because it's Mother nature, not Father nature, duh). Then he kills her, even though she could've killed him loads of times but didn't. So it's like "haha big win for the man who was subjected to such horrific torture. Victory!"
And then all the women with no faces come out of the woods because it's like a constant cycle.
Manchester By The Sea (2016) - 6/10
Great performances in this super sad movie. I can’t say I got too much out of it though.
Roar (1981) - 9/10
Watching Roar again was still as terrifying an experience as the first time. If you want to watch something that’s loose on plot with poor acting but with real big cats getting in the way of production and physically attacking people, look no further. This is the scariest movie I’ve ever seen because it’s all basically real. Cannot recommend it enough.
Eyes Without A Face (1960) - 8/10
I’m glad I checked this old French movie out again. There’s a lot to marvel at in so many aspects, what with the premise itself - a mad surgeon taking the faces from unsuspecting women and transplanting them onto another - being incredibly unique for the time. Short, sweet and entertaining!
Se7en (1995) - 10/10
The first in a David Fincher marathon we did for The Sunday Movie Marathon, episode 33.
Zodiac (2007) - 10/10
Second in the marathon, as it was getting late, we decided to watch half that evening and the last half on the following evening. Zodiac is a brilliant movie and you can hear more of my thoughts on the podcast (though I apologise; my audio is not the best in this episode).
Gone Girl (2014) - 10/10
My favourite Fincher movie. More insights into this masterpiece in episode 33 of the podcast.
Friends: The Reunion (2021) - 6/10
It was heartwarming to see the old actors for this great show together again. I talked about the Friends reunion film at length in episode 33 of my podcast.
Wolfwalkers (2020) - 10/10
I reviewed this in an earlier post but would like to reiterate just how wonderful Wolfwalkers is. If you get the chance, please see it in the cinema. I couldn’t stop crying from how beautiful it was.
Raya and The Last Dragon (2021) - 6/10
After watching Wolfwalkers, I decided I didn’t want to go home. So I had lunch in town and booked a ticket for Disney’s Raya and The Last Dragon. A child was coughing directly behind me the entire time. Again, I reviewed this in an earlier post but generally it was decent but I have so many problems with the execution.
The Princess Bride (1987) - 9/10
Clearly I underrated this the last time I watched it. The Princess Bride is warm and hilarious with some delightfully memorable characters. A real classic!
The Invisible Kid (1988) - 1/10
About as good as you’d expect a movie with that name to be, The Invisible Kid was a pick for The Sunday Movie Marathon podcast, the discussion for which you can listen to in episode 34.
Babel (2006) - 9/10
The same night that I watched The Invisible Kid, I watched a masterful and dour drama from the director of Birdman and The Revenant. Babel calls back to an earlier movie of Iñárritu’s, called Amores Perros and as I was informed while we watched this for the podcast, it turns out Babel is part of a trilogy alongside the aforementioned film. More thoughts in episode 34 of the podcast.
Snake Eyes (1998) - 1/10
After feeling thoroughly emotionally wiped out after Babel, we immediately watched another recommendation for the podcast: Snake Eyes, starring Nicolas Cage. This was a truly underwhelming experience and for more of a breakdown into what makes this movie so bad, you can listen to us talk about it on the podcast.
#may#movies#wrap-up#film#follow for more#Twitter: @MHShukster#tenet#nomadland#the prince of egypt#chinatown#howl's moving castle#bahubali: the beginning#seven samurai#red road#before sunrise#tokyo story#before sunset#before midnight#the holy mountain#the grand budapest hotel#blue jay#shadow and bone#shadow and bone: the afterparty#wadjda#freddy got fingered#the twilight saga: breaking dawn - part 1#solaris#jaws#darkman#darkman ii: the return of durant
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Paint It White // Liu Yangyang
Day three of my Kinktober // NCT 2020 Project
DAY 3: Yangyang + mirror sex → “You’d better be quiet or everyone’s going to know what a naughty little slut you are.”
Word count: 1.7k || Genre: smut
Warnings: femdom, mirror sex, semi public sex, edging, brat taming, punishment, begging, restraints, hair pulling, finger sucking, cum eating
This work is completely fictional. Feedback is welcome. Hate will be blocked. Thank you!
(credit x)
Note to self, thank Taemin.
If Yangyang was honest, he would realize how this was all his fault. He wouldn't have tried to play with your thigh and get you hot and bothered while you were eating lunch with the WayV boys. He wouldn't have sent you those dirty texts, trying to get a rise from you while you were watching a movie in the dorm with everyone. He would've listened to you when you told him to stop trying to grind into you while you were in the crowded SM elevator. And he definitely wouldn't have grabbed your ass when he thought he saw a staff member looking at you.
He knew that you were getting irritated at his actions, but that's what he was counting on. He was looking for you to finally break, so when you snapped and dragged him into the empty practice room, locking the door behind you and looking at him with fire in your eyes, he couldn't stop the thrill that coursed straight through him.
It was all Yangyang's fault, and he loved it.
He thought he had everything figured out, but he wasn't expecting you to do this. You had managed to take a quick look at the schedule posted outside the practice rooms before choosing this one, specifically for the fact that Taemin had been the last one to use it. You went straight for the ties he'd been using for his Criminal promotions as soon as the door was locked, and you felt the way arousal coursed through you as you saw the wide eyed look he gave you.
And that's how Yangyang ended up here, clothes long gone and forced onto his knees with his hands tied behind his back. He's set up right in front of the mirror as you play with him, embarrassment shooting through him as you force him to watch himself.
He can't control his moans, desperate to be able to reach out and pull your bra and panties off so that he can see you better, and so that he wasn't the only one fully exposed like this. But he can't. All he can do is moan and shake and become all consumed by the way you're stroking him.
It's so much and not enough at the same time, the way you jerk him off fast just to slow down the instant he starts to get close. It's maddening, and he can't help but buck into your touch, hoping that maybe he can prevent you from depriving him of yet another high.
You notice the way that he can't seem to catch his breath, gulping on air as he silently prays that you'll have mercy on him.
You won't.
"Ready to give in yet?" You ask, not slowing down your movements as you build him up to another high he won't get to release.
He shakes his head rapidly, and his wise crack is cut off by a moan as you give him a couple extra hard pumps for that. When he finally composes himself enough to speak, his voice comes out ragged and broken.
"Go to hell."
You lean close, pulling on his bound wrists so he falls back into your chest a bit. You move your grip down to allow him to grab your hand between his fingers, and he holds onto it for dear life. It's a tender moment between your otherwise devastating actions, and it makes him feel safe, despite being vulnerable to you in the most intimate way possible.
When you speak, it's directly into his ear, ghosting along the shell and making his entire body shiver with the sweet tone of your voice saying something so sinful.
"Baby, you're already in hell."
He groans at your words, and at the way you just keep touching him. He's getting so close, and if would only keep going, maybe he can get there.
"You know," you tell him, starting to slow down as you notice the signs of his high. "This practice room is free the rest of the day, and the door's locked. I could do this forever."
You slow your hand almost completely, giving him hard and deliberate strokes to emphasize your point. He groans, frustration boiling over as he slumps forward. His head rests on the mirror, with his sweaty and too long hair hanging in his eyes. He can't get enough air, gasping and fogging up the mirror with his lust filled exhales. The sight is extremely erotic, and you can't stop the rush of arousal that courses through you.
It makes you want to wreck him even more.
You move your hand away from his wrists, bringing it up to tangle into his hair. You give his hair a tug, pulling his head up to stare right in his own eyes as he gasps from the pain. He cries out as he sees his frame in the reflection, with his disheveled hair and sweaty body and wild eyes and his dick that's so, so hard. His mouth hangs open, letting out loud, broken moans as your hand increases its pace again, building him up to yet another high he won't experience. His sounds echo off the walls of the dance studio, and you lean in so your chin rests on his shoulder.
“You’d better be quiet, Yangyang. Or everyone’s going to know what a naughty, little slut you are.”
He bites his lip hard as he whimpers, trying desperately to muffle his moans as your words send a shiver through him. But he's not able to hold his sounds back for long as he starts to get overwhelmed again.
"Shit, shit, shit," he sobs as he feels the pleasure start to overtake him again. You plant soft kisses onto the back of his shoulder as he shakes under you.
"Is there something you wanna say?" You ask, smirking against his skin as you feel him nod hard above you.
"Yes, yes, yes. Please, I'm sorry, I'm sorry."
You grin widens, and you give him a little nip on his back that makes his entire body jump. But when you start to slow your hand again, he panics.
"What? Why? I said sorry. Why? Please?"
"What are you sorry for, baby?"
He groans, beyond frustrated as you slow your movements to allow him enough clarity of mind to answer your question. He tries to drop his head and tear his eyes away from his own reflection, but your grip on his hair stops him, only serving to intensify his arousal with the way it causes his scalp to sting.
"Well?" You ask him.
"Uh," he starts. "I'm sorry for being a brat, and I'm sorry for not listening, and I'm sorry for taking $10 from you without asking first, but just please."
He's babbling at this point, and you're not even sure if he's aware of all the words coming out of his mouth. You chuckle, satisfied with his answer as you move to place a kiss on his temple.
"There you go, baby. That wasn't so hard."
You increase the speed of your pumps again, and he lets out a hiss that turns into a high pitched whimper as the pleasure starts to overtake him for what feels like the umpteenth time. You see the way his eyes look around frantically, not sure whether he should look at the way your hand is pumping him or the way you're looking at him with pure lust burning in your eyes or watch the way he's falling apart. The sight just makes everything so much more intense, and he can't fathom how has hasn't exploded yet, and decides that it's solely because you just know his body too, too well. His breathing picks up as moans fall involuntarily from his lips, echoing through the empty walls of the dance studio.
"You can let go now," you tell him, moving your hand from his hair to firmly grip his jaw and loving the way his eyes all but roll into the back of his head at your words. "Go ahead and paint the mirror white with your cum."
He orgasms with a shout, shaking and trembling through his orgasm as the hot white spurts of his release shoot onto the glass and your hand. It feels like it goes on forever for him, wave after wave of earth shattering pleasure after being kept on edge and denied for so long. He collapses into your body when he's finally done, resting his body weight on you as he kisses your neck. You bring your hand down to his tied ones again, allowing him to hold your clean hand in his as he comes back down to Earth.
"You okay?" You ask him, and your heart melts when he flashes you that thousand watt smile of his.
"More than okay," he replies. He's sleepy, but you can hear the tinge of satisfaction in his voice.
You reach forward, swiping your already dirty hand through the mess he made on the mirror. He starts to say something that you're sure is probably smug and will get him into trouble again, but you don't give him the chance, sticking your stained fingers into his pretty mouth.
He's a bit taken aback at the action, but obeys immediately, sucking around your fingers and humming contently to himself.
"By the way, I knew it was you that took that $10. I cannot believe you framed Hendery for it."
He laughs around your fingers, and you laugh too, placing a small kiss onto his nose as you do. When you take your fingers out of his mouth, you wrap your arms around him, gently guiding him to lay down with his arms still bound behind him. He sits up on his elbows, watching you curiously as you reach around to unclip your bra and pull your underwear off your body. You straddle his, but not before collecting more of his release onto your fingers for him to suck off. He groans around your fingers, and looks up at you with lust filled, obedient eyes.
"Now, we have this room for a couple more hours. So now it's your turn to make me feel good."
Tagging @mingishoe @armysantiny @domreaderrecs @chickenkatxu @lucas-wongs @drippinlovetalk @brooklynalpha @wildernessuntothemselves @loviejaehyun @skzctnightnight @capriccio-con-espressione @euphoricsunflowers @nct-writers as requested! Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list for future fics!
Read all of my fics HERE!
#nct-writers#neothestars#kpopuniversenet#subidolnet#yangyang#liu yangyang#sub!yangyang#dom!reader#sub!nct#sub!wayv#nct#wayv#nct 2020#nct 2020 smut#wayv smut#nct smut#yangyang smut#liu yangyang smut#sub!yangyang smut#sub!kpop#sub!idol#kinktober 2020
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A Completely Objective and Logical Ranking of Every Hetalia Character Song
New character songs are dropping, I have too much time on my hands, let’s go.
Also here’s a Youtube playlist for the ~✨nostalgia✨~
Bring it on in the tags
71. Ah Legendary Class⭐The Awesome Me Highway [Prussia]: Absolutely tearing it up on the drums and on the vocal cords alike (I pray for Atsushi Kousaka). Great for the memes.
70. Happy Thoughts Museum [???]: This is listed as an official song but I had literally never heard of the title. Then I listened to it and BAM! Smack back to 2013 watching the teasers for the show on Funimation. Not sure I’d count it as a character song though...
69. (Nice) My Song that is written by me for me [Prussia]: Deafened me but I can appreciate the industrial grind.
68. My House is...Quiet. ~With the Trolls~ [Norway]: I have never heard this song, nor can I find any version of it online. By default it goes here and I am so sorry Norge.
67. Make a Wish to Santa♪ [Sealand]: The discordant notes and childish exuberance only serve to make this sound like a demonic plea to Santa to eliminate the singer’s enemies.
66. Heaven and Hell on Earth [Rome]: Rome sounds like he’s been in the corner of a restroom. Extra points for the metal version, minus points for the fact that the beach scene was replayed like 1764 times.
65. Canada Complete Introduction [Canada]: Quiet af until Kumacheerio shows up and blows out your speakers. they did you dirty my darling 😔
64. It’s Easy!!! [America]: I don't think any video of this has ever stayed up for more than 20 seconds. Sounds cool, but like I was listening to 20 different genres at once, someone make him calm down.
63. Bù Zàiyì the Small Stuff ☆ [China]: I cannot for the life of me find the complete song anywhere, clips have a cool beat though
62. Let's Boil Hot Water♪ [Italy]: Exactly what it says on the tin..though a bit too close to elevator music for my tastes.
61. The Fragrance of Early Summer [Japan]: Very ‘from the books’ Japan-esque song
60. Peace Sounds Nice…[Baltic Trio]: All well and good until the radio demon shows up
59. W●D●C ~World Dancing~ [America]: How a song can sound like it’s from 4 different decades at once is beyond me
58. Overflowing Passion [BFT]: This is just drunken karaoke and I have 0 clue what’s going on #iconicforallthewrongreasons
57. Ren●Ren●Renaissance♪ [Rome+Chibitalia]: Wholesome Grandpa with Grandson content - barring the fact that Italy sounds on the verge of a nervous breakdown and Rome has had too much wine.
56. Roma Antiqua [Rome]: Similar energy to any one of China’s songs - there’s a part of the song where it sounds like he’s singing in the shower, and I will never not laugh at [CENSORED]
55. Country From Where the Sun Rises, Zipangu [Japan]: Very chill, very Japan, but just meh for me.
54. Moon Over Emei Shan [China]: Good message, okay song.
53. My Friend [England]: What a mind palace you must have Mr. Kirkland
52. With Love, from Iceland [Iceland]: Three words: Heavy. Metal. Puffin.
51. Having Friends is Nice...♫ [Russia]: Russia is the cutest thing ever
50. Mm. [Sweden]: Smooth transition from WWE Smackdown to shopping at IKEA.
49. Why don’t you come over? ~Beyond the Northern Lights~ [Iceland]: I don’t want to be mean but...this does sound like the second closing theme to an anime whose first closing was much more popular (à la Soul Eater)
48. Gakuen☆Festa [Germany, Italy, Japan]: Sounds like a 60s song of the summer but oh dear their voices do not go together. Hella cute though.
47. Wa! Wa!! World Ondo [Main Cast]: One time I travelled 10 hours in a coach bus with a bunch of teenagers to a city of note in my country, and the only souvenir I bought was the fucking PAINT IT WHITE DVD. Perfectly chaotic, UN ĐĕùX~~
46. In the Bluebell Woods [England]: In the album cover for this song he’s holding a guitar but this is not a rock song. Still has ‘running through the hills’ levels of dramatism though.
45. Poi Poi Poi♪ [Taiwan]: You’re telling me that Taiwan, someone whose has *ONE LINE* in Beautiful World (which is criminal tbh what kind of representation-) managed to get an eNTIRE CHARACTER SONG???????
44. White Flame [Russia]: There’s something to be said for a song that is 3x the length of any Hetalia episode
43. Ich liebe… [Germany]: Baking cakes for your friends has never been so wholesome.
42. We Wish you a Merry Christmas [America, China, England, France, Russia]: Nice to see they’ve gotten their shit together since United Nations Sta-hmm.
41. Ah, Worldwide à la mode [France]: Sounds like a Disney Princess song, hard not to picture France frolicking in a field of flowers.
40. Che Bello! ~My House is the Greatest!⭐~ [Italy]: Would not be out of place in an advertisement for Sea World.
39. May You Smile Today [Japan]: THE feel good song of the summer
38. Let’s Look Behind the Rainbow [Italy]: I will protect you.
37. I'm your HERO☆ [America]: “Anyone who’s sad or sullen will be arrested” did NOT age well.
36. Mein Gott! [Prussia]: Alternating headphone effect at the beginning is cool, so is the confidence...the actual singing on the other hand...
35. Nihao⭐China [China]: Listen, all of China’s character songs are great, I just can’t vibe with this one like some of the others.
34. Pechka ~Light My Heart~ [Russia]: I’m still having difficulty wrapping my head around the fact that this and Winter were released at the same time.
33. Pukapuka⭐Vacation [Germany, Italy, Japan]: Seems just a bit too much like they’re running on a treadmill that’s picking up speed and trying to sing at the same time. Peppy.
32. Santa Claus is Coming to Town [Germany, Italy, Japan]: This is unironically the best song sung by this trio; can only vibe with for two months out of the year though.
31. Excuse Me, I Am Sorry [Japan]: Japan’s character traits speedrun. Gives me barbershop quartet vibes for some reason but is catchy as hell.
30. The Story of Snow and Dreams [Russia]: A superhero anime opening in the making
29. England’s Evil Demon Summoning Song [England]: Sir that is not how you roast a marshmallow, don’t cut yourself on that edge.
28. Moi Moi Sauna♪ [Finland]: Exactly the type of song you’d expect and it’s wonderful
27. United Nations Star⭐ [America, China, England, France, Russia]: This isn’t as much of a song as it is a four minute struggle for everyone to sing without America yelling every 5 seconds...Like a particularly musical episode of Hetalia.
26. Paris is Indeed Splendid [France]: Paris-pa-pa-pa-paris
25. Absolutely Invincible British Gentleman [England]: Poppy, rocky, polka-dotty
24. Vorwärts Marsch! [Germany]: To quote the comment section: “This sounds like a German version of I’ll Make a Man out of you.” There’s some truth to that.
23. Hamburger Street [America]: The product of America’s rapper phase. 8/10 because he’s trying so hard and because I can unironically sing along to all of this.
22. Hoi Sam☆Nice Guy [Hong Kong]: A song that would absolutely destroy the ankles of anyone in DDR.
21. I Am German-Made [Germany]: There was once a version that had Germany and Prussia singing at the same time and it sounded positively demonic and Broadway could never
20. La pasión no se detiene ~Unstoppable Passion~ [Spain]: Talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, show-stopping...
19. Fall in Love, Mademoiselle [France]: Sounds like it should be in Mozart Opera Rock, I have kiss kiss falled in love.
18. Embrace the Très Bien Moi [France]: This is the definition of SELF LOVE PEOPLE.
17. Carrot and Stick [Belarus&Ukraine]: Absolutely DRIPPING in 2000s power ballad energy. The type of song that plays on repeat in the mind of the widow whose millionaire husband ‘mysteriously disappeared’ (and the only legit character song ever acknowledged by the anime)
16. C.B.C (Cowboyz Boot Camp) Vol. 1 [America]: AH MAH GAWWDDD
15. Winter [Russia]: Heavy metal fever dream and the perfect song for an angst-ridden teenager
14. Seychelles Here ⭐ Vacation Island [Seychelles]: UN👏DER👏RA👏TED SONG👏OF 👏THE 👏SUM👏MER👏
13. Nah, it will settle itself somehow [Romano]: One day I aspire to reach this level of chill
12. Let’s Enjoy Today [England]: I will never not feel happy when listening to this.
11. Einsamkeit [Germany]: Ludwig manages to air every single one of his worries about not being good enough compared to his friends and always being perceived as mean or uptight when he’s actually just a softie and now my heart hurts. 💔
10. Aiyaa Four Thousand Years [China]: A very poignant and beautiful song about the passage of time and the inevitability of its passing; comparable to an ancient ballad complete with explosive crescendos and meaningful lyrics.
9. Bon Bon Bon❤️C’est Bon C’est Bon! [France]: Peppy, cheerful, adorable, groundbreaking; has been my alarm tone for six years and I’ve yet to tire of it. 9/10 The moaning interspersed throughout has been an interesting wake-up call.
8. Let’s Enjoy! Let’s Get Excited! Cheers! [Denmark]: This is on par with Everytime we Touch by Cascada in terms of rage potential unlocked (the good kind)
7. Dream Journey [Japan]: Whoever’s playing the shakuhachi is absolutely KILLING IT. Dramatic, wonderful, great metaphors.
6. Gourmet’s Heart Beginner Level [China]: Absolute banger, I’m a vegetarian but this would inspire me to eat shumai.
5. Always with you...Nordic Five! [Nordic FIVVVVVEEEE]: Everyone harmonizes beautifully except for Denmark. Extremely catchy, number placement seemed appropriate.
4. Pub and GO! [England]: I love this trash man
3. Maji Kandou⭐Hong Kong Night [Hong Kong]: If you thought Denmark’s song was a banger JUST YOU WAIT. I WILL BLOW OUT MY SPEAKERS LISTENING TO LO-HA-SU.
2. Steady Rhythmus [Germany]: THIS SONG IS METAL AF. Seriously, if it can be classified as ‘hardcore’ by my father and his group of 50-somethings who have decided to single-handedly gatekeep the metal and hardrock genres, it can do anything.
1. The Delicious Tomato Song 🍅 [Romano]: Beautiful, absolutely awe-inspiring, poignant, catchy lyrics with an extremely deep meaning that only years of meticulous research and analysis can unlock, Romano I love you.
BONUS: Closing Songs
5. Hatafutte Parade (World Series)
4. Hetalian⭐Jet (The World Twinkle): The song is good, the dancing is cursed
3. Chikyuu Marugoto Hug Shitainda (World⭐Stars)
2. Marukaite Chikyuu (Hetalia: Axis Powers): nE NE PaPA
1. Mawaru Chikyuu Rondo (The Beautiful World)
#aph#hws#hetalia#aph america#aph england#aph france#aph russia#aph china#aph italy#aph romano#aph germany#aph japan#aph spain#aph prussia#aph canada#aph norway#aph denmark#aph sweden#aph finland#aph iceland#long post#i will be taking criticism at this time
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