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sixosix · 3 days

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HE BUILT A FIRE JUST TO KEEP ME WARM | LYNEY

notes wc 2.5k, a LOT of talking. but i hope you can enjoy:)) because im so nervous to post this

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“So that’s your decision. Alright.”

…That’s it?

The confusion on your face must have shown. Arlecchino casts a glance and smiles in her own way, only a ghost of it.

The ease of her answer feels like walls cracking, chipping slowly one by one, then collapsing altogether. It’s such a surreal, nearly maddening feeling. The glaring reminder that it has always been your choice dawns on you. So that’s it.

“I don’t want to chain you to the throne.” How embarrassing it is to realize that you were the one chaining yourself in, locking it in place, and suffering from the weight of it this entire time.

‘Father’ accepts it; it’s about time you did, too.

“Alright,” you echo numbly, lagging from disbelief.

As it turns out, the teacup in Rosalie’s hands had been the poison ‘Father’ was offering. She wanted to show Rosalie what it looked like, but Rosalie’s answer was pretty clear when she flung it away the moment you entered the room.

‘Father’ offers the cup meant for you, and you inspect it nervously. The glass feels fragile and smooth to the touch. The fate of your future, your memories, the people you’ve met that have led you all the way here, your entire being—

All in one cup.

You already gave your answer. It took a good minute, but still, it was the quickest choice you’ve made yet. The ‘tea’ seemed tempting for a split second: an easy way out, a free restart button. You know better now, though. Arlecchino’s showing you mercy, and Rosalie’s giving you a choice.

You look up at Arlecchino, uncertainty in your nerves. “But I can’t go back here?”

Arlecchino tilts her head. “You mean to return here as a child of the House?” She chuckles shortly. “Of course not.”

Oh. Ah, well. That is to be expected.

“Why would you be? You’re not an orphan anymore, are you not?” Arlecchino’s gaze swings pointedly at Rosalie’s direction, who is talking animatedly to Freminet. Freminet blushes as Rosalie coos and frets over him like she does to you.

You find yourself smiling fondly, then promptly realize that this is what Arlecchino means. You have a new home now, with Rosalie.

“So I guess this is really my goodbye to the House?” you mutter, feeling limp suddenly.

Arlecchino gently places her clawed hand on your head. You stiffen for a tense moment but eventually relax into it, realizing that this could be the last time she would even see you as her child, even when you weren’t a long time ago.

“It’s been your goodbye when you left,” she reminds you coolly.

Your shoulders slump in defeat.

“But I’m sure the children still see you as family, and you would be our most important guest of all,” Arlecchino says, looking ahead. “Don’t underestimate their love for you, even if you’ve already forgotten them.”

“I don’t think I could ever forget my first home even if I tried,” you laugh, a little bittersweet thing.

“Then still feel welcomed here, on behalf of their feelings.”

Her voice isn’t gentle, nor does she assume to be part of the House that would want you back—she still wears that cold detachment in her words, but you know her. You know this is the closest she can give you. You want to hug her, pull her in, and bury your face in like a child, but again, you know her. Arlecchino doesn’t like things like that—so you’ll settle for sniffling and pretending like you aren’t crying.

“Thank you for everything, ‘Father’,” you whisper, voice quivering.

She doesn’t say anything in return, but her gaze is more open. It’s enough of an answer for you.

“Come,” Arlecchino calls out, her voice ringing clearly and making everyone halt to listen. “Let us meet up with Tartaglia; it’s about time he arrived.”

The warmth of her hand slips off as she walks out. You would’ve chased after it, but Rosalie comes dashing over and squishing your cheeks until your lips are puckered. Freminet spares you a secretive smile before he runs after Arlecchino and your vision is swallowed by Rosalie’s worried face.

“Ma chérie,” she coos. “You’re really sure about your decision? I promise I won’t get mad if you stay with Miss Arlecchino!”

“Maman, you’re my home now,” you say. “I’m already grateful that you still choose to keep me. I know it’ll be difficult to adjust—”

“Nonsense.” Rosalie releases your cheek, only to pinch one gently. Her face is stern, daring you to finish. “I’ve raised you as my own long enough; what’s years more? But this time, you share with me, okay? Whatever danger lies ahead of you, I want to be a part of.”

The waterworks continue. “O-Okay.”

You’re positively drained, tired, and fatigued when the long hand strikes 10 in the evening. You yawn, then lay flat on the grass, the blades of green tickling, but that’s the least of your worries. Paimon flutters around unsurely before eventually settling on Aether’s side. Aether smiles stiffly, all tense and awkward, as he pats your arm in comfort but doesn’t even touch you.

You eye his gloved hand. “Do you think I’m going to bite you or something?”

“I— I don’t know!” Aether says, sounding genuinely distressed.

“I already apologized.”

Aether grimaces. “That’s the thing. I don’t feel like I deserve it. If anything, I should be begging for forgiveness for even blackmailing you.”

You shrug. “You can’t blackmail me anymore. Maman already knows.”

“Still…”

“Aether,” you give him a helpless smile that has him blinking dumbly in awe. “I’m the one who gained everything here. I couldn’t even give you anything even when I was supposed to help you.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Aether murmurs in embarrassment. “You led me to The Knave. We have a meeting tomorrow about my sister—fingers crossed she knows something.”

“I hope the best for you,” you say lightheartedly.

Aether smiles weakly, a little unsettled by this sudden act of kindness. “So what’s your plan from now on?”

“In the eyes of the public, The Knave transferred me out of her care and assigned me to Master Childe. In reality, I don’t have to leave anything behind by staying with the Fatui. Master Childe will be training me personally, and I can be of aid to the House whenever they need it—I just wouldn’t be one of the orphans anymore.”

Aether hums thoughtfully. “So you’re going to leave Fontaine?”

“Only for a bit. I’m taking maman with me, but I would still get homesick, so I’d convince Master Childe to drop by now and then.”

Aether laughs softly. “I guess we’ll be seeing each other occasionally.”

You stare at him momentarily, wondering what would’ve happened to you if you never met him. “If anything, I should thank you, Aether. Your friendship with Master Childe made me an easy ally for him. I don’t know where I would’ve gone if it weren’t for him volunteering.”

Aether waves dismissively. “It’s nothing. I’m sure Childe’s excited to spar with you. I really did nothing.”

You hug him.

Aether is frozen for about two minutes before Paimon nudges him, and he reboots back into life by throwing his arms around you and squeezing you into a hug. It holds the same warmth as Arlecchino’s sweet gesture, so you stay like that for a little while. You gesture for Paimon to join in, and she beams and envelops your heads with her tiny arms.

At least until Aether drops his arms and suddenly looks anxious. “Okay, we should stop before Lyney hears about this again.”

Your heart jumps out of your throat at the mention of that name.

Right… You need to talk to him next.

Aether seems to know what’s going on in your head and grins. “Good luck.”

It’s the next day. You haven’t heard of Lyney nor Lynette since Rosalie’s kidnapping, and you realize belatedly that they’re giving you space. Or perhaps just straight-up avoiding you. You don’t know which is easier.

With the help of Aether, you stand face to face with the house they moved into once they were adults. It’s small and blended in with all the rest, but the cat blinking up at you slowly in a hat was surely a rarity.

“Hello, kitty,” you say.

The cat responds with a slow, measured blink.

It’s the cat from the party Lyney invited you, but that has led to a series of unfortunate, humiliating events that you’d rather forget, so to you, the cat has done nothing.

“May I come in?” you ask politely as if expecting a proper, eloquent response.

The cat meows and then starts scratching on their door. The worn marks on the bottom of the door imply that this isn't the cat's first time either. One, two, three— Then you’re faced with Lynette, who has that expression on her face that seems to say she had been expecting you, but you were a little late.

“Y/N,” she says as the cat saunters inside.

“Hey, Lynette,” you say, playing with your fingers. “Sorry about… lashing out yesterday.”

Lynette tilts her head. “I was never upset about that. I was simply worried about you—you’re family to me, too.”

Your chest aches. “Lynette…”

She steps aside, gesturing vaguely. “Come inside. Lyney is probably fixing himself up in his room; we’ll give him three minutes.”

“He has a show?”

“No. He’s meeting you,” Lynette says, then doesn’t clarify. She walks in calm strides toward the kitchen. “Want some tea?”

“Um, yes, please.”

Their home looks well-worn in a loved way, with trinkets sprinkled everywhere. There are different models of Lyney’s hats displayed on a shelf, which you find endearing. You ask Lynette about the cat, which she tells you goes by the name Rosseland, an assistant to their shows and their beloved pet, and the cause for the mountain of hats in their home.

It’s a little terrifying how easily she indulges you in conversation, just as with Arlecchino. She resembles ‘Father’ in that way. You feel like you aren’t deserving of their mercy. Lynette should be angry at you; you hurt them by being selfish. Instead, Lynette pours you tea and smiles.

“You seem uneasy,” Lynette observes, sipping.

“Well, I think you know the reason why.”

Lynette shakes her head. “There’s no reason to be. If you think I forgave easily, Lyney has forgiven you long ago.”

“That’s awful.”

Lynette smiles. “I think it’s special. We’re twins, Lyney and I, but I think if I were in his body for even a day, I wouldn’t be able to recreate what you two have. He treasures you deeply, more than you know.”

Speechless, your mouth hangs open. “That’s…”

A door bursts open, and a disheveled Lyney emerges, looking around in confusion until his gaze finally settles on you. He breathes out. You straighten up under the full intensity of his undivided attention, just like it had always been.

“Seven minutes,” Lynette says impatiently.

Lyney flushes, embarrassed. “I’m sorry.”

Lynette sighs, then turns to you. “Go on. Go to him.”

What! Why do you have to be the one to move? You want to voice your complaints, but Lyney is already moving aside to give you space through his doorway.

You cast a fearful look at Lynette, but she avoids your gaze as if expecting it. Betrayed, you shuffle through the living room and brush past Lyney, into his room. It’s messier than the rest of their house, with makeup, clothes, and props. But you find it endearing—it’s Lyney’s room and reflects him.

“Sorry,” Lyney says. Before you could interrupt, he clarifies: “I couldn’t clean this all up properly before you came over.”

But you had time to fix yourself up? You want to ask in amusement, but you settle for shaking your head instead. You’ve visited to apologize, not bully him more.

“I’m sorry, too,” you say. “For the way I treated you yesterday—no, the entire time we were together, I mean.”

Lynney coughs, turning redder. “I know you are. And you know that I forgive you.”

Just like Lynette had said. “You shouldn’t.”

“It’s my feelings, you know.”

At the mention of feelings, you suddenly recall a few words he said in the heat of the moment and suddenly find yourself flustered, squirming on the bed. As if hearing what you’re thinking, Lyney flinches and stumbles back, his face layers and layers of red.

“I still mean it, though,” Lyney stammers out.

“Mean what?”

“My… confession,” he trails off lamely, blushing like a maiden.

You blink in surprise. “I thought you were just saying that to make me stay?”

At the moment in the flower shop, you had a feeling you knew what he was going to say as if you were reading it from a book, and the sequence would go as follows: Your heart was not the first for Lyney to steal. But there was Rosalie, there was ‘Father’, there was the throne, and believing that Lyney was just using whatever he could to get what he wanted again seemed better.

“What?” Lyney’s face falls, horrified. “No, no, of course not! You asked me why I would go to… lengths for you, and I answered honestly.”

“Oh.”

Lyney frowns. “Y/N, I knew I couldn’t make you stay, but I still wanted to say it.”

You find yourself struggling to keep contact with his eyes all of a sudden. “So you meant it? You actually really like me?”

“Yes,” Lyney says, so painfully sure of himself that your face bursts into flames.

You can’t handle the sight of his eagerness laid bare just for you—vulnerable, open, and unapologetically honest.

“I’m not easy to love, you know.”

“A little bit late for the warning.” Lyney smiles sadly. “I love you anyway.”

“Even when I’m like this?”

Lyney tilts his head. “This is just one of the many reasons I’m helplessly devoted to you. There’s really no use in trying to push me away, you know. We’ll find each other again eventually— Are you crying?”

Lyney stutters and frets over you like Rosalie does when you’ve iced yourself to her plants. It’s a little funny, so you give him a pathetic, wet laugh.

“W-Was it something I said? Was it too soon? I’m sorry. Pretend you didn’t hear anything. Fuck, I’m so bad at this.” Lyney groans, burying his face in his hands and continuing his self-criticism.

“Shut up for a bit, Lyney.”

He shuts up right away.

You draw closer to him, wiping your tears away. His breathing halts and his eyes have been swallowed up, pupils dilated. You pause until you can feel his breath on your face, looking up at him for permission. Lyney nods but seems confused, so you just show him.

‘Father’, Aether, and Rosalie have their own kind of warmth, but kissing Lyney is entirely different. It feels as if he’s burning you from within, from your cheeks down to your toes, in a pleasant shiver.

notes last chapter next:( I AM KIND OF SAD ACTUALLY

taglist moved to comments because Tumblris strange

#606: THAWED #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x you #genshin impact x you #lyney x reader #lyney x you #lyney x y/n

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elioslover · 3 months

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Red Herring- Harry Styles x Reader.

[Premise: Harry might just be the pettiest of assassins.] Made possible by my one and only favourite, @harrysonlylover 💞

Word Count: 2.3k.

Warnings: Violence, weapons, death, angst, 3rd person.

Other Writing

🥀

Hair ruffled, tuxedo dishevelled, Harry is a sight for sore eyes. He really does look like the consequences of a mission gone awry.

Things had gone from zero to a hundred in such a blinding commotion that as soon as it had started, it was over. He hadn’t the time to even process the fact that death had just been on his doorstep, ambushed and beaten from every which way as he did anything possible to defend the blows of at least four assailants.

If it weren’t for Her showing up, his body already been detained, forced to his knees as a masked man pressed his forearm along Harry’s neck and squeezed it in place, choking tight, lagging his vision and causing his eyes to bulge with panic- there is almost no chance that Harry would have walked away in one piece.

Like the holiest of angels, she had floated into his line of vision, which was now so blurry that he saw double- left eyelid threatening to swell shut- an amorous apparition beaming as if a spotlight shone from above, twinkling along with the stars, and Harry couldn’t decipher if she were another dream conjured up by his lovesick mind- definitely not out of the ordinary- it’s only as she neared and the blinding white light morphed into a satin white ballgown, wrapped around her statuesque figure, that Harry feels certain of her existence.

And then things became a stampede of feet stomping, Harry still restricted and unable to see past the mess of curls and blood now dripping down his brows, covering almost all visibility as he was forced to stay put and hope for the best- the last thing he would ever want- whilst the group black-suited men fumbled around in defence, attempting with all might to eradicate the two problems at hand.

Though valiant, the pack of assassins lose momentum along the way, and as Harry is finally able to twist loose of the weakened grip of the man keeping him bound in place, he quickly uses his full body force to completely free himself and immediately throws his strength into incapacitating the threat breathing beneath him.

But the ear-shattering crack of a gun going off had Harry’s heart freezing over with fright, immediately expecting the worst. He could only chance a split second, glancing over at the attack ensuing to his right, just as one of the men hit the floor with a thud.

Increasingly impressed by the woman effortlessly holding her own, Harry returns his attention to the man unsuccessfully wriggling against his hold.

He had hoped he wouldn’t need the thin blade neatly tucked away in his inner blazer pocket. Still, as the assailant struggled and beneath him, furiously flailing, Harry knew that it had to be done, his palm reaching into the secret pocket of his blazer, drawing the weapon, aiming and thrusting it into the man's chest until the myriad of moans and gurgling slows and then silences all together, his body stiffening beneath Harry’s own.

Panting over the corpse, another brute hits the floor, the softest and swiftest of bullets finding a home in his skull, and Harry can’t look away as his angel hardly bats an eye, re-cocking the gun- he knows it’s not her usual choice of weaponry- as she saunters over to the last man standing, stopping his chance of charging over by tapping the trigger, watching emotionlessly as the minutest bullet thunders over and lodges into his heart.

And just like that, the threat of death has dissipated and Harry can finally take a proper breath, still panting over the man’s stiffened body. With sudden overwhelming relief, his entire body starts to ache, his head throbbing, injuries ready to render him to the floor in the hopes of recovery.

Nothing in the world could have convinced him to move- well, nothing but the gut-punching sound of high heels wedging themselves into the scattered stones, singing like clinking marbles as they not only picked up the pace but started to patter into the distant darkness- away from Harry’s crouched figure.

Back on his feet in a flash, patting down his clothing attire, Harry’is bowtie is long gone, his dress shirt torn and missing several buttons, his pants ripped along the thigh from a blunt blade, and his shoes are scuffed and covered in dust as he leaves the drama behind him and makes a break up the hill. Why? Well, to confront his knight in shining armour, of course.

Harry almost trips over several dislodged rocks and snapped damp tree branches as he blindly chases her through the dark of night. He thinks back to the six-inch stilettos she’s still wearing, the same heels that pressed into an unknown assailant's pelvis mere minutes ago. How the hell is she moving so fast?

It doesn’t help that his left knee is busted, bruising with each step. A kick to the hip results in a dull throb, and even though he has hardly caught his breath, his chest as thirsty as his brain, Harry follows after her, trying to garner her attention through his gritted teeth,

“Hey!” He can hear the leaves rustling as her pace increases. Harry tries to do the same, calling out with all the energy left to muster, “Hey!”

She spins on her heels, neck-snapping to meet her shoulder with such speed that it nearly results in whiplash, strands of hair wisping in the wind. Face furrowed in a frown, she wants to be anywhere but here,

“Leave me alone.”

Harry feels such shock that he stumbles on his own steps, barely able to stop himself from falling at her feet. He thinks she’d probably love that- it would definitely have her blood rushing with dominance. But, she needs no more dominance, this ‘incident’ was more than enough to prove her power for years to come.

She lets him wander over but doesn’t know why. His perpetual need to poke and prod was something that couldn’t be countered, let alone dismissed. She had already fucked up, majorly, what compels her to believe this would be any better?

As Harry finally finds his footing and gets close enough that they can study one another’s rage-fueled scowls, his stomach rumbles with frustrated ruminating confusion.

The volcanic heat bound between their chest threatens to erupt and douse their companionship with raw hatred and a river of larva courses through Harry’s lungs and expels from his throat,

“Why did you do that?”

“Save you?”

“I had it under control.” Harry’s incredulity is so falsified that it infuriates her, and as fast as a whip, her almost bare back walks off once more, mockingly singing out,

“Sure looked like it when you were in that headlock.”

“I can take care of myself.” He defends. But she keeps moving, close to disappearing into vast nothingness, and once again Harry is trailing after her, “Hey!”

“What?” This time she stops for real, riddled with stress that pertains to Harry- and he just cannot help but make it worse. She needs him to leave.

Harry needs to say something before she does. His pointer finger cast her way with confused accusation, his grassy eyes doey, and blotchy purple bruises along the bags of his bottom lashes,

“You had no business interfering with my mission.”

“Jeez, sorry I saved your life.” Her arms are flailing in surrender.

“You really are one to talk.” He spits, taking a hearty step closer.

“Don’t go there.”

The life in her voice has left, and a discerning shift in seriousness causes a shiver to dance up Harry’s spine. He’s so angry, though- close to furious at her choices- all of them- and still, she will hardly give him her full attention.

Never even in his wildest of nightmares had Harry envisioned himself in this version of hell- the person he once knew better than he did himself is now the person who has the task of killing him. At the least, it’s disappointing, and at the most, his heart is so shattered that heaven itself could not heal his damage.

“They practically did your job for you.” He’s yearning to yell, to let the whole world know how weird and wrong this all was, “You chose to stop them.”

“It doesn’t mean anything.” Her head shakes with stubborn denial, gearing up to turn away from him.

“Oh, fuck off. It does.” He’s hot on her heels.

She stops as quickly as she started and Harry hasn't the time to do the same, his sternum nearly bumping into her shoulder. Ignores their chests crashing together, pushing apart, pretending it means nothing to be this close to him again,

“Let me get this straight, you would have preferred it if I had let them kill you?”

“It would have saved you the bullets, no?” He’s not wrong.

“No, Harry.” Palm pressed to her forehead with sorrow, “That’s not how it works.”

“Oh, so now you want to follow procedure?” He cannot recall a time that they had ever played by the rules.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

She shudders at the mere thought of their deep-rooted relationship; the first of many rules broken, and the only reason the two of them stand here, faces reddened and glistening under the moonlight.

Harry swears he feels her skin prickle at the mention of their messily perfect relationship, and he can’t stop the paralysing shiver that skates up along his spine as his head stays bowed, glaring down at her,

“Christ, at least buy a man some dinner before you take a hit out on him-”

“I’ve bought you dinner on several occasions-”

“And you still took out the hit.”

Stomach dropping and splatting against the gravel, all of the blushing blood drains from her features, leaving her with a loss of energy, of deep emptiness. Stepping- stumbling- back, she builds the distance with fatigued frigidity,

“Harry, I’m warning you. Leave me alone.”

“No.” Harry’s foot almost stops with lividity.

This only increases the imminent eruption of fury that she so desperately wishes to spew his way, and they both know that there is hardly a way to stop Harry when he’s determined, so she walks away with dismissal, muttering just loud enough,

“You’re so fucking childish.”

“Me? What you did was childish!”

“I don’t think you understand the meaning of ‘leave me alone’.”

Harry will be damned if she thought he’d ever give up so easily- it’s not like he hadn’t been desperately trying to track her down for three weeks. Heart hurting, headache splitting, his neediness boiling over, he won’t stop until she explains herself,

“I want to know why.”

“The hit was set, Harry.” She howls into the void, back still turned, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. “I took the job so nobody else would.”

She works overtime to keep her weakened voice from wobbling with each word, and if Harry were even a smidge wiser, he would have let her explain. His wisdom is dwindling though,

“That doesn’t-”

“I planned to avoid you for the rest of my life.”

Harry feels sick- sicker than sick- his heart drops to his stomach, where it is swallowed whole and thuds tirelessly, nausea travelling up to his throat, bile burning and poisoning his larynx. He can only stare blankly, lips beginning to babble like a thirsty fish, his tongue sticking to his sandpaper gums.

His cluelessness is crippling her ability to maintain calmness, each dumbfounded blink makes total destruction the only thing on her mind.

Without hesitation, she takes the largest of steps forward, her shoe-clad toes scraping against his own as her hand reaches up, and bunches a fistful of his cotton shirt collar, tugging Harry down to meet her scowl.

He can feel her enranged, and breathy exhale fan across his features, her glare so icy that Harry worries he may turn to stone if he gazes a moment more. With sharp polished nails scraping and almost puncturing the skin protecting his jugular.

“For fucks sake, H. Be smart for a change and leave me alone.”

“Or what?” He challenges and leans in, jaw brushing along her hairline like old times- though the compassion so true to her core is long deceased and decays the closer he comes.

But what frightens him to the point of utter seriousness is the sudden pressure of steel pushing into his left side, settling over his organs just as the familiar click of a pistol cocking warns Harry that things are quickly crumbling into dangerous territory. Especially when she loses all love and says,

“Let me get this through your thick skull,” The barrel pressing deeper, “If I see you again, I will shoot you on site.”

She releases him and doesn’t bother to grant even a small glance as if he were a mere stranger who had threatened her existence. Harry doesn’t follow, she wouldn’t care if he did, and he’s smart enough to know where he stands now.

There is a swell of staling energy that holds the place in which she once stood, vibrating vicious electricity all through his body, coursing and singeing his vitals as she slips into the forest and possibly out of his life for good- he would welcome death in exchange for seeing her once more.

The one thing he could at least do for her- think smart- was an improbability because Harry had already made a huge mistake… Massive.

How in the hell is he gonna tell her that his heartache had gotten the best of him- that he had done the worst thing imaginable?

What’s the best way to break the news, ‘Hey, I hope you don’t mind but my feelings were really hurt so I retaliated and took a hit out on you too’? That will go down swimmingly…

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occatorcreator · 23 days

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Second Chances

Links - 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

2 - Lonely Purpose

Purple seeks out a new purpose in the wake of his mother's passing and makes a new life in the world of Minecraft. Through it, he ends up crossing paths with a group of stick figures in need. Content Warnings: Character death, grieving, canon typical violence

Purple returned to the city to bury Orchid. There was no body to bury, but a grave was something Orchid requested in her end-of-life plan, and Purple would honor her last requests.

It didn’t change the hollow feeling he had standing before her grave. He had cried all of yesterday, and his eyes felt raw and painful, but he couldn’t summon any more tears. So he simply stewed in his emptiness.

He was the only one there for her funeral.

I mean, of course he wouldn’t show up, Purple thought. I should be glad to not see him… it would just be awkward. As if he cares that his ex-spouse is gone.

The lawyer reached out to Navy regarding the death. Navy should have learned of Orchid’s passing and Purple’s destitution. But of course how could one reach someone who left without any contact for over a year? Purple would be a fool to hope to see him here.

So, why was he so upset that Navy failed to show?

I can’t be here, Purple turned away, the numbness turning into an unexpectedly painful vise in his chest. He left his mother’s grave and the cemetery behind as quickly as he could, bolting down the sidewalk until he had no energy left to run.

He leaned against a wall, watching as stick figures passed by with faded interest. He stood as still as a statue, watching passerbys go into the stores. There were parents holding little kids by their hands, groups of friends chatting close to each other, lovers holding hands and laughing...

Everyone was lively and moving around like usual. The day was bright and sunny, birds were chirping. As if this wasn’t the worst day of Purple’s life.

A group of teenagers passed by him. When Purple watched them, he recognized all of them as old friends from school. All but one. A tall, lanky orange hollow head towered over them and chatted with arms waving animatedly. Their eyes briefly met Purple’s and for a split, terrifying second, Purple thought they were going to try to rope him into small talk.

But they didn’t, they just waved and continued walking with their group. A couple of others looked back at Purple, and Purple tried not to notice their confused and judging gazes. The teens turned a corner, but Purple caught his name whispered among them.

“Hold on, was that Purple back there?”

With heavy limbs, Purple followed behind them. He moved silently, trying to be discreet in the fact he was following them.

It has been five months since I dropped out, Purple realized. It had to be summer break now.

“Do you know them, Peri?” The orange hollow head asked.

“Yeah, he disappeared before you transferred in, Second,” the stick figure Purple knew as Periwinkle said. “He was in my financial elective...”

“And he was a total scumbag,” a dark violet stick figure jumped in.

“Saffron,” Periwinkle admonished.

“What? It’s true!” The oddly named Saffron said. Purple recalled her brazenness. She was Periwinkle’s annoying younger sister and highly protective of her softhearted brother. Any slight against him, no matter how small, earned her ire.

“What did Purple do?” Second asked.

“Ah, Purple is someone you wouldn’t want to get close to,” added a brown stick figure beside them. “He acts friendly at first, gives gifts to buy your affection. But he’s highly controlling. The moment you don’t do what he wants or if you inconvenience him, he dumps you and goes after the next sucker.”

Chestnut… Purple grimaced at his ex-friend’s bitterness. He lagged behind, increasing the distance between them.

“I think that’s being a little bit uncharitable,” Periwinkle added, “I think he really admired you, Chestnut.”

“Ugh, don’t even joke about that, Peri?” Chestnut said, punching Periwinkle in the arm. Her disgust was hard not to hear from this distance.

“Why are you even defending him? Do I need to remind you how Purple borrowed your prized umbrella?” Saffron said, “and you never got it back even after asking about it?”

“I never forgot that…” Periwinkle nodded, and Purple saw his shoulders slump. “Gosh, it still hurts to think about it. I spent so much money getting that, it was one of a kind.”

“Exactly! And now it’s gone because of him! You’re being too nice!”

Second, sensing that their friend group was getting agitated, coughed in their hands.

“Anyways, I asked Mango this morning, and he said I can go to the arcade with you all!”

Saffron pumped her hands in the air while Periwinkle clapped. “Awesome!”

“Yeah, enough about Purple,” Chestnut said, not leaving much alone, slinging her arm around Second’s shoulders. “Be grateful you never met him. He’d be horrible to you too.”

“Chestnut,” Second scolded.

“Sorry, I’ll stop,” Chestnut finished.

Then they chatted about arcade games. Purple didn’t catch anything else as he stopped in his tracks, watching as the group retreated. He couldn't stand to listen anymore as he felt like he was close to decking one of them.

Why… was the whole school glad I was gone for months? Purple thought, clenching his fists. Was I really that awful to you?

He and Chestnut certainly had a falling out, but he swore his attempts at being her friend were genuine. Complimenting and giving gifts- how else was he supposed to make friends? It wasn’t his fault they had incompatible personalities! Not everyone can be so blaisé about everything! Was it a crime to expand his social circle?

Not like those sticks liked me for long… Purple thought, recalling how he fell out of that clique faster than he did with Chestnut.

Periwinkle was nice; Purple did intend to only borrow the umbrella since he had none that rainy day. But of course, with his horrid luck, he ended up breaking it on the way home and feared how Periwinkle would react. How was he supposed to know that it was a special one of a kind?

Stupid idiot’s too obsessive over umbrellas, Purple grinded his teeth. If he and his sister blow a gasket over a lost umbrella of all things, then no sane person should deal with them!

He felt raw and scratched, scoured by their claws. How he hated them. Truly hated them all. Especially that Second kid- what a stupid name. While he didn’t know anything about them, he hated how the three people who he couldn’t befriend clung to them so easily. He hated how Second had to only look at him to ruin his horrible day even further. He hated that they had some parent to come home to after fun at the arcade with friends while Purple was all alone.

I hate you! Purple thought with bared teeth. I hope you all suffer like I did! Hope your days are as rotten and horrid as mine!

I hate all of you!

Alana reminded Purple that he could stay on the desktop for as long as he liked. That arrangement worked out for Purple because he had no reason to leave the computer. He didn’t want to return to school, and he had no desire to find a job and be a cog in some miserable system in the city. On the desktop, he had more freedom to do what he wanted.

And he just wanted to lie in his bed and wallow in his sadness.

He let the grief drape over him. It made his limbs heavy as lead and turned his mind to static. Food and activities were bland; he had no desire to do much of anything. Aside from Alana, there wasn’t anyone checking on him. He had no idea where the villager caretaker went or if they were somehow deleted, but he couldn’t even begin to care.

How odd it felt to be purposeless. How the drive and desperation to find a cure for his mother vanished with her body, leaving behind exhaustion and nothingness.

The only time he felt anything other than despair was when he dreamed. The dreams were both cruel and relieving. He dreamt of being a prince in a grand castle. His mother and friends were there in that castle to greet him and go on fun adventures. Waking was painful, as it brought those sweet dreams to an end and dumped him back to the cold, lonely reality. The more he slept, the longer the dreams went and more intense the pain of waking became.

I wish I could stay in my dreams…

But then one night, they changed. Instead of continuing the fantasy, he dreamt he was in a void. A light shone above, with pink petals floating down around him.

Orchid petals? Purple thought, holding a hand out to catch a petal. Mom?

Instinctively he looked around, trying to find Orchid in the pitch dark, only to flinch when he saw Navy standing before him in the gloom.

“Why are you here?” Purple raised hands up defensively. He had not dreamt of his father once in his fantasy world. It was as if he was banished from his dreams.

Yet Navy stood before him, staring. The stare was all too familiar, that cold, guarded stare before he walked out of Orchid and Purple’s life.

“What?” Purple demanded, “what do you want? What right do you have to judge me?”

Navy said nothing. He should have said something by now.

“Be gone with you!” Purple waved, “Do what you always do and just leave me already!”

To that, Navy’s gave a disappointed sigh.

“You can’t even keep your promises,” he said, “that’s it, I guess. I’m leaving.”

He turned and walked away into the void.

“What?” Purple never recalled him saying that before. He didn’t understand. “Wait!” Purple took a step forward. “What do you mean by that? Answer me!”

Navy kept walking; Purple couldn’t catch up. Despite telling him to leave, he still chased after his father.

What promise am I breaking?

When Purple awoke, he remembered his mother’s dying breath: she’d asked for Purple to take care of himself.

Sleeping in bed, shutting myself from the world, Purple’s heart hammered. I’m not keeping to that promise.

And he loathed that a dream version of Navy could be right!

For the first time since he left his mother’s grave, the drive fueled him. He thought he lost it to grief. That dream, his father’s words criticizing his ineptitude, gave him something for his churning anger to sharpen itself against.

I’ll take care of myself, he thought, no, I’ll do better, I will thrive. He’d prove his father, those teens, and everyone who ever doubted and looked down on little Purple wrong!

He would be great.

Purple crawled out of bed. His muscles protested at the exertion he was unused to after months of laying around. He forced himself to hold his head high.

“How about…” Purple said as he spotted the remains of his and Orchid’s castle. “I finish that castle of mine.”

Purple wanted to play Minecraft legitimately. No cheats, no spawning things. He was going in to play like any other player. He had a new goal for his playthrough. He aimed to become a true king of Minecraft.

He started with only the essentials and got to mining. He had his basic goals set for making his kingdom: get enough cobblestone and wood to build his castle and starting houses, locate some villagers, and… well he hadn’t figured out step three yet, but the first two were going to be huge.

There were enemies. Fighting them wasn’t as bad as Purple initially feared. If anything, felling the zombies, creepers, and skeletons, then the tougher ghasts, endermen, and wither skeletons, made Purple feel powerful. All those rusted fighting skills he neglected were sharpening and, for once, he enjoyed the combat. With the right equipment and enchantments, enemy encounters hardly concerned him.

He found some zombie villagers too and, desiring to build a village the proper way, successfully escorted and cured those zombie villagers. And, oh, how he was praised for his heroics! The cured villagers bowed to him as their savior, Lord Purple!

Not the pathetic Purple I was before now, huh? Purple thought, puffing his chest in pride.

But the joy never lasted. The glory he got from fighting turned dull as the enemies were no match for his sword. The villagers had children. Seeing happy little kids running around while their happy parents watched, filled Purple’s hollow heart with venom. Their praise towards his greatness suddenly felt shallow and fake, especially knowing how much he loathed to see them prosper when he still felt horrible.

It didn’t help that the next day, all those kids grew into adults. The very sight of this rapid aging caused Purple to retreat into his castle and remain there for three days. He glared at the wall, unable to sleep and failing to calm himself down. Once again, all the motivation deserted him, and a part of him wanted to burn this fake village and false castle to the ground.

“Why?” He asked a portrait of a bizarre wither skull formation, “why is it that I’ve accomplished so much more than I did in school, and I still feel this way?”

The skull painting did not answer, but Purple suspected it knew fully well why.

Purple imagined his mother telling him that he was pushing himself too hard, but the thoughts of her words just made him curl further in a miserable ball. How could he enjoy even the false, temporary victories of a game when she wasn't there to see them?

Only Navy’s words spurred Purple out of his funk on the third day when he fell asleep. You can’t even keep your promises...

“Right. Castle and village is done. I need a new goal,” he said and eyed the skull painting. It was such a peculiar piece that he wondered if it was a hint that if he made something like that he’d summon something like an iron golem. Something evil.

If so, if I make this and defend the village from this beast, Purple thought, then I’d be a legend to them!

Plus, he’d like a challenging fight for once. Time to visit the nether and grab some skulls.

“Ugh, finally!” Purple said as he successfully pried the third wither skeleton’s skull off and it didn’t disintegrate to ash. “I swear, hunting for skulls is such a pain.”

But he finally got three skulls and the soul sand. He was done with his nether trip. Time to head back and figure out what he’d summon-

Bang! Bang!

The nether caverns echoed with the sound of rhythmic thumping. Purple felt the walls around him tremble as the thumping grew louder and louder. He looked around, clutching the wither skull to his chest, as he tried to find the source of the noise.

“The hell is going on?” Purple gasped.

Suddenly, there was a scream. Purple only had a split second to turn towards that scream before a stick figure dressed in armor landed right on top of him and knocked him to the ground.

“Yeouch!” Purple wheezed. His health went down to half from the impact, and he shoved the stick figure off of him. Before he could get a good look at them, more screams were heard, and additional stick figures landed next to him, narrowly missing his battered body.

Why is it raining stick figures?! Purple looked bewildered between the group of stick figures. The green, blue, and yellow stick figures lay on the ground, their health at half a heart. The blue and yellow sticks were dazed, diamond armor shattered to pieces around them, while the green stick figure only had a cracked diamond helmet left.

The green one was moving, able to rise up because his fall was cushioned by landing right on Purple. He coughed, pushing himself on shaky arms and legs.

“Yellow? Blue? You-” he paused when his gaze met Purple’s. “-alive?”

Purple stared back and, unable to think of a better response, waved.

The stick figure, he presumed named Green given the naming convention, waved back. “Um, hi?”

Bang! Bang!

Purple and Green looked up at the ceiling where the noise came from. In the gloom, Purple could make out the stick figure shaped holes they fell through. A fine layer of dust fell from above.

“I take it you didn’t mine straight down,” Purple mumbled.

“Oh no!” Green forced himself up and ran to shake Blue and Yellow violently. “We don’t have time! Come on, get up!”

“What’s going on?” Purple asked, shouting over the thumping.

“Um, it’s a bit of a long story!” Green yelled back as he lifted Blue to her feet. She was waking, as was Yellow, but neither of them were in any good condition to stand for long.

“Condense it then!” Purple pulled out a potion of healing and threw it on them. The cloud restored their health to full instantly. The three stick figures leapt up, looking at their now healed bodies in shock.

“Woah! How did you do that?” Blue asked.

“Not now,” Purple waved his hands and pointed at the continuous banging above. “What is going on?”

“Ok! We found this game icon on our desktop!” Green explained, pulling out a sword. The tip cracked apart and caused him to pause as he tried to fix it.

“And we were building things with the stuff that came out,” Yellow picked up. They pulled their ax out, only to despair as it crumbled apart too, “taking turns and all that.”

“But when we gave the game icon to Red,” Blue said, staring ruefully at the busted bow in her hands. “She attacked us.”

“Attacked you?” Purple asked.

“Yeah, she wasn’t acting like herself!” Green rushed, “She just went wall eyed and hoarded the icon. We tried to stop her but…”

Bang! Purple heard blocks from above fall to the lava.

“She’s now piloting a giant block stick figure and ended up shoving us down here.” Yellow finished.

“I don’t think we have much time before she follows us here,” Blue added, clutching her head. “Oh, what are we going to do?”

Yeah, that seems like your problem, Purple thought, heart hammering wildly. He wanted a fight earlier, but given the sounds of what was coming, he opted to flee. He turned about to run before Green snatched his arm.

“Let go of me!”

“Please! You don’t have to fight for us, but we don’t have weapons or armor!” Green said. He clasped his hands together. “Please, can you lend anything?”

“I don’t have any extra swords!” Purple exclaimed. “I barely have enough potions after all the fighting I did!”

Bang! The other stick figures looked nervously at each other, rifling desperately through their belongings and finding little to help, fishing rods, crafting tables, jungle trees…

Yeah, they’re screwed, Purple thought, looking for his way back to the desktop.

“Look, I'm just going to head to the portal,” Purple said, “and if you guys have any sense, you’ll join me! Hopefully, Red will be too big to enter!”

The others looked at each other with mixed expressions, confusion, nervousness, and disdain.

“We can’t do that,” Green said, “she would be stuck here if we did that!”

“And how do you know she couldn’t smash her way through?” Yellow added.

Purple stared at Yellow and found himself glaring when he realized it made too much sense.

Ah! What do I do then? Purple thought, looking down at his wither skull helplessly. But as he stared at the empty eye sockets, Purple found an answer in them.

“Hold on,” he said, “I think I have an idea to help you with your problem.”

The plan was half baked given that they only had seconds to execute it. Yellow and Green set it up so they were ready to lure Red to the nether fortress while Purple and Blue made the wither skull statue.

Red came down from above and the very sight of the behemoth in obsidian blocks was almost enough for Purple to return to his “let’s flee to my village” idea.

“So, you are sure this thing we're summoning will be enough against her?” Blue asked.

Purple nodded even though he hadn’t a clue if the summoning would even work. “When we see their signal, just put down the last wither skull.”

Blue bit her lip, glancing from the obsidian stick figure chasing down Green, back to Purple.

“Is there a risk it would kill her?”

Purple blinked. “Aren't you trying to fight her?”

“Fight her, yes, not kill her!” Purple could see a glossy sheen form in Blue’s eyes. “I don’t know what will happen if she dies here.”

“She’ll respawn at her last checkpoint,” Purple said, but his stomach clenched. Assuming you have a respawn point set to begin with.

That didn’t give her any relief. Blue wordlessly sniffed and wiped her eyes.

In the distance, Purple saw the fishing rods fly and snag the head of the obsidian tower. “Ok, now!”

Blue placed the last head down. Upon doing so the statue turned into a three headed skeleton that let out a horrific howl. It glowed blue and was blinking rapidly.

Oh no…

“Uh, what do we do now?” Blue asked.

“Run!” Purple yelled, grabbing Blue by the hand and running away from the fortress. He cupped his hands and shouted at Yellow and Green. “Run!”

They could hardly react to the warning before a thunderous kaboom sounded behind Blue and Purple. The Wither was airborne, screeching and hurling hissing skulls right at them with wild abandon.

This is dumb! This is so dumb! Purple thought as he and the others scattered to dodge the projectiles. Why did I think summoning a giant enemy to fight another giant enemy was a good idea?!

The Wither did not discriminate. It targeted the stick figures as well as the obsidian figure. Its skulls landed right on the head and exploded it to bits. The explosion sent the red stick figure inside flying across the Nether.

Ah, I’m glad I didn’t summon that thing by my village! Purple thought. That thing is tearing through obsidian like tissue paper!

Blue raced down the walkway and held out her arms to catch Red before she landed. Yellow jumped from a ledge above to snatch the Minecraft icon that was knocked out of Red’s hands.

Despite receiving a skull missile to the face, Red was alive and kicking. She wasted no time in kicking Blue’s hold off of her and tearing after Yellow. Her expression was flat, yet her movements feral. She twitched and then lunged at Yellow, clasping at their leg. They fell to the ground with a thud and tossed the Minecraft icon further down the path.

“Oh, come on!” Purple lunged down and snatched the icon. Turning around, he saw the Wither gaining, and, in panic, he held the Minecraft icon. He visualized something stronger than obsidian, and, out from the icon, he blocked the attack with a wall of bedrock.

He protected the group of wrestling stick figures from the impact, yet his action only earned Red’s attention. Locking her fixed expression on him, she let go of Yellow and charged at Purple.

“Ah! Green, catch!” Purple tossed it just as Red pounced on his back. “Get to the portal!”

Green caught it, and started running, using his fishing rod to move across the Nether’s gaps with ease. Red, no longer interested in Purple, raced after Green. She nearly closed the gap between them with her inhumane speed, only for her to be hit down by a skull volley from the Wither above.

“Red!” Yellow and Blue exclaimed, racing to her pick her up. Even injured critically, she continued to wrestle against them, eyes locked solely on Green and the Minecraft icon.

How is she not even down? Purple thought, smacking the Wither’s volleys back as Blue and Yellow dithered.

“Come on! Leave her and get out of here!” Purple yelled.

“But-“

“No buts!” Purple turned and shoved the three over, pinning Red down to the ground. “To the portal now!”

It took a stern look and the Wither’s fast approach to cause the two to run off. Not like Purple could hold Red down long enough, as she shucked Purple off and raced after them.

I can’t let her attack my village! He thought as he ran in pursuit. He lunged his sword at her, narrowly missing her back.

“Stop! Don't kill her!” Green shouted.

Of course that idiot waited by the portal! Stunned by his stupidity, Purple wasn’t ready for Red’s quick roundhouse kick to the hand. His enchanted sword clattered far away from him, and Red ran towards the stick figures just waiting by the portal.

“No! Stop!” Purple abandoned his sword, equally as stupid as Green. “Get in the portal! Hurry!”

So many things occurred at once- Red collided into her friends, knocking them into the portal frame; Purple bowled into her back, which shoved the group through it; and as they entered, the Wither hit the portal, closing it completely behind them.

The group fell sprawling on the desktop, gasping and grunting. Purple clutched his head, wincing at the sharp pain of hitting the ground. Before him, Green, Blue, and Yellow were slowly getting up. Green held the icon. It was shuddering in his hands, glowing a bright white before suddenly fading, as if the portal did something to it.

Red lay limp on the ground. Then suddenly she jerked and writhed. A translucent outline of a Steve player avatar leapt out of her repeatedly before finally falling to the ground. As it let out a dying breath, Purple caught sight of its dead, white eyes before it poofed away.

Red was limp once more.The other three looked at her, expecting her to get up, but she remained still on the ground. They dropped the items they carried and crowded around her. Blue lifted her head up.

“Red? Red!” Blue jostled the stick figure.

“Come on, speak to us!” Green begged. Purple felt something form in his throat at the familiarity of his desperation.

“What’s happening to her health?” Yellow gasped as they held her hand.

Indeed, all the hearts of Red’s health turned black and were ticking down. An effect called “withering” was applied on her.

It’s going to kill her! Purple realized and whistled loudly. The sound spooked the three grieving stick figures, but not as much as the sudden crowd of villagers appearing out of nearby houses did.

“Lord Purple? You’re back?”

“I need a bucket of milk, stat!” Purple hollered and clapped. “Don’t waste time! A stick’s dying here!”

And no time was wasted. The villagers were quick to mobilize and toss a milk bucket to Purple. He snatched it and quickly tossed it to Blue.

“Feed it to her!” Purple quickly exclaimed, “It’ll cure her ailment.”

Confusion gone, Blue brought the bucket to Red’s lips. Indeed, the milk stopped Red’s decaying heart meter just in the nick of time. With only half a heart left, the withering effect faded, and Red let out a shuddering cough.

“G-guys?” She croaked out.

“Red? Is it really you?” Yellow asked.

“Um, yeah,” Red looked around, dazed and then pained, “I’m so sorry for what I did…”

“Shh, no, no,” Blue hushed before pulling her into a hug. Green and Yellow also wrapped their arms around the two.

“I thought we’d lose you…” Green said, muffled.

Purple watched from the sidelines as the four hugged each other. He watched until his heart couldn’t bear the sight of it.

How lucky they are.

“You’ll have to share how you saved these folks,” a villager said as they stood next to him.

“Yeah…” Purple couldn’t meet their eyes, “maybe later.”

He did a good deed, a brave one even! And yet he still felt horrid.

If only milk could cure a heartache too.

#occatorart #alan becker #animation vs minecraft #animator vs animation #second family au #ava purple #ava second coming #ava red #ava green #ava yellow #ava blue

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hoodharlow · 6 months

Text

Erasing Myself From the Narrative

AN: Y'all remember that angsty fic I scrapped? Well I brought it back and changed it up

Requested? No

Warnings: angst, Jack being 🤨🤨🤨, OC picking herself over Jack and smut

Word Count: 5.5k words

Luna tugged on her vintage snakeskin cowgirl boots and went to her closet for her suede beige trench coat. She grabbed her phone from its charger. She ran down the stairs when she heard the doorbell. She opened the door and threw her arms around her best friend of ten years, Jack.

"I missed you!" Luna hugged him tighter.

"I missed you too." Jack held the back of her head and his other arm was around her back, dangerously close to her ass.

"How was LA?" She asked, pulling away from the hug.

"What I should be asking you is: how was Paris?" He grinned.

Luna had been in Paris the last few weeks interviewing with Givenchy. She had informally worked with them before to make some designs for Jack’s tour outfits. But Matt Williams, the creative director, reached out to her personally and asked her to send in her portfolio.

She had a passion for fashion, Bratz pun intended. Thanks to her volleyball scholarship she was able to major in it when she went to Cornell. After graduating, she didn't have much luck finding jobs, even with her experience of working with designers and with small brands through summer internships.

"I got the job." She shrugged like it was no big deal.

"I fucking knew you would. What does the grilf think?" He asked.

The grilf was Luna’s grandmother. She was raised by her grandmother (and grandpa until he passed away a few years back) because her mom was a flight attendant and traveled a lot for work. Luna was a splitting image of her grandma from when she was in her twenties. Now at sixty, she looked just beautiful.

Jack would joke that if he was her grandma's age, he would have been able to pull her. But her abuela was never moved by his charisma and laughed in his face when he would try to flirt with her. She would tell him to go for someone closer to his age range: ei. Luna.

"I was going to tell her but I wanted to tell her in person. I was jet-lagged and slept the whole day. When I woke up, I found a note saying that she went to her book club." She explained.

For a woman in her early sixties, Abuela had a more active social calendar than Luna. Luna had friends, but she was just very cautious of her actions and didn't do anything that could lead to any life altering consequence. Unlike her mom who did whatever she wanted with no second thought, which was how she had Luna as a high school sophomore. Luna saw what being careless could do and she did everything in her power to now get caught up in any mess. So she stayed to herself as much as possible, didn't partake in drinking or smoking like some of her friends, or had one night stands. She had her hookup, Jason Peralta, but that was as laid back as she got. She was the mom-friend of the group. The one who made all her friends send their locations and did multiple rounds when they would go out to make sure no one left.

"I found out before the grilf? Wow, I feel honored." Jack grinned.

"Don't, you just happened to be here." Luna shrugged.

"Man, fuck you. I'm leaving you and watching the new M. Night Shyamalan movie by myself." He frowned.

"That's fine, I'll hit up Jason." She pulled out her phone, waiting for him to call her bluff.

She wasn’t going to hit him up. If anything, she was going to just bury herself under blankets and eat the whole pot of albondigas Abuela made while watching some Channing Tatum movies. Jason had called her earlier to see if she wanted to come over but she said no because she was meeting up with Jack.

Jason and Luna have been on and off friends with benefits since she moved back to Louisville. Whenever they were off it was because he got to know some girl but it never worked out with his schedule. Jason played for Louisville FC and was constantly traveling which was why his agreement with Luna worked so well. They knew what they had was purely physical and if they didn’t know each other the way they did, they would have become a couple, but it never worked out. Sure they would go on an occasional date but there was an underlying agreement that it wasn’t going to develop into something serious. Another reason why it could never work out was because Luna had feelings for Jack.

Though she knew better than to act on her feelings. In the last ten years Jack never gave her a second glance. Luna was just one of the guys. She was his friend, his confidant. The one that helped him get the girl, never the girl.

“Anyways,” Jack cut her off thoughts, “we should get going because I need to stop for gas.

“Yeah, let’s go.” Luna nodded.

She grabbed her mini leather bag that matched her suede trench coat. She checked that her essentials: spare cash, lip gloss, chapstick, hair ties, gum and tampons were in her bag. She swiped her keys from the large bowl by the small table by the front door and made her way outside with Jack. She locked the house and texted Abuela that she had left and would call her later.

Jack opened the passenger door for her. He averted his gaze away from her ass when she removed her coat before climbing on. Her skirt rode up her thighs, revealing her long toned legs. Jack closed the door and went to his side. When he opened the door, he found Luna’s ass in the air as she put her things in the backseat. Her cropped knitted sweater fell down, showing off her lavender and it took everything in Jack to not ask her if her panties matched her bra.

“All set?” he asked when sat back on her seat.

“Yeah,” she nodded, connecting her phone to his car.

Jack drove to Costco to fill up his car. He pulled on his hoodie and covered his face while he waited outside his car as the gas filled up. He was typing away on his phone. She figured he was making sure everything for his and Urban’s birthday party was set. Though she didn’t miss the soft smile he had as he shook his head and typed some more. Luna felt a twinge of unease in her stomach but pushed it aside. Nothing could ruin her night with Jack.

Luna choked on her wine, trying her best not to laugh so hard at the story Jack was telling her of him and Clay at one of his rec soccer games. They went to eat dinner after their movie. Jack called in earlier and booked them a private room. He didn’t want the other nosy guests to film them for Luna’s privacy. He rarely posted her when he hung out with his friends because his fans always turned one post into the most elaborate conspiracy theory. He just wanted Luna to himself. He didn’t see his life without her and he would protect her with his whole being.

Their server came by with the check. Luna reached for it, but Jack swatted her hand away. He put a few hundred bills on the leather folder and placed it on the edge of the table.

“When are you leaving to paris?” Jack asked her, sipping his water.

“April, I have a few weeks to figure out my living situation. But Matt wants me in Paris as soon as possible so we can get started on the Spring/Summer show in June.” She said before eating some more tiramisu.

“So you won’t be here for the Derby?” he asked, almost pissed. He tightly gripped his cloth napkin, his already white knuckles turning Casper white.

“One, relax, and two, no I won’t be there for the Derby. I can maybe try to be home but I don’t know.” Luna smoothed out his hand.

“Sorry, I just wanted you here because I’m dropping my album around that time.” He said.

“You already finished your album? Oh my god, that’s insane.”

She knew he’d been working on his album for a while. When she visited him on tour to get some outfits fitted for him, she could tell he was going through it. After one of his shows in Denver, he practically broke down in his hotel room and told her how exhausted and burnt out he felt. But he had to push himself because he knew he had a lot of people counting on him and he couldn’t let them down. They put a lot of faith in him since the start of his career and he was eternally grateful for their support. Luna was the one to convince him to get back into writing for the sake of writing not for work. Little by little he built an album

“I have a few songs that need to be finalized and trimmed but it’s done. The label is aiming for a late April release.”

“That’s exciting. Are you going to do a mini CD signing tour like you did with the last album?” she asked, finishing her glass of chardonnay.

“Nah, I’m thinking of just letting this one speak for itself.”

“Well I better get my own signed CD.”

“Of course you are, I can’t break tradition,” he grinned.

They finished their desserts and made their way back to his car. Jack had his arm over her shoulders and Luna wrapped her arm around his back. Once in his car, Jack connected his phone and played her a few of his songs from his album. The one that stuck out to her the most was Blame on Me. She’d seen first hand the dynamics between his brother and dad but she never expected him to write a full song about it. But he did it in the most beautiful way. She was an only child that didn’t meet her dad and was raised by her grandparents. Despite that she was able to relate to it. That’s what she loved about Jack’s song writing. No matter how corny and braggadocious or personal the songs were, there was something that was able to strike home.

Abuela’s red Audi was parked in the driveway by the time Jack pulled up to Luna’s place.

“Let me walk you.” Jack said, unbuckling his seat belt before she could tell him no.

Luna nodded and followed suit. They walked up the steps. Jack stayed back one step while she was at the very top. They were of equal height.

“I’m glad we hung out tonight. I missed you..” Luna said.

“I missed you too. We should do something again before you leave for Paris.” Jack said, pulling her into a hug.

They hugged for what felt like an hour and pulled back a bit, still in each other’s arms. Their eyes’ met with bright smiles. ‘Now or never’, Luna thought to herself. She leaned in to him, but Jack pulled back.

“I’m sorry Luna, but I have a girlfriend.”

She immediately burst into a fit of giggles. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. Those two glasses of wine…” she trailed. “I’m sorry sorry. Um, I’m gonna go inside and pretend like that didn’t happen.”

“Luna wait,”

“Good night sir,” she said, saluting him in a terrible British accent she did when she was embarrassed and wanted to get out of a situation. “I shall see you tomorrow kind sir.”

She entered her home without letting Jack get another word in.

Luna reached in her coat and pulled out a sky blue envelope. Inside was a birthday card with a letter she wrote for Jack. She didn’t have the guts to say goodbye. She looked over to where he was. He was standing off to the side while she took pictures with her friends and they all gathered around Kathryn, his girlfriend. Even she couldn’t deny that they looked good together. According to Urban she was one of the daughters of the co-founders of the label Jack was signed to. They’ve been seeing each other for a few months so it was still pretty new.

Though what Luna couldn't wrap around her head was that he never mentioned Kathryn in their three hour long facetime calls. If she knew she would have kept her distance and not acted as impulsive as she did the night before.

But now knowing this made leaving for Paris much easier. After her embarrassing almost-kiss, she spent the better half of the night looking for flights to Paris. She spoke to her grandma, leaving out the kiss, and they were leaving at night to New York since there weren’t any direct flights from Louisville to Paris. Abuela was joining her for the week so they could go apartment hunting so she could get settled as soon as possible.

“Hey I didn’t think you’d show.” Clay said, pulling her into a hug.

“I just came by to say hi.” she told him.

“You’re not staying?” he frowned.

“I’m needed in Paris and I have to leave tonight.” She looked at the envelope. “Can you do me a favor?”

“Of course.” He nodded.

“Give this to Jack later.” Luna handed him the envelope.

“You can give it to him now. He’s around here.” Clay looked sound for his brother. He caught Jack’s gaze and waved him over. He was aware of the feelings she had for Jack. “You should–”

“I’m in a rush.” She put the envelope in his hands. She gave him a tight hug. “Thank you.”

Luna squeezed his shoulder and grabbed her coat. She passed Jack and didn’t give him a second glance as she exited the venue.

Jack frowned and began to walk in her direction, but he was stopped by some friends and pulled to the photobooth. When he finally pulled away to go to the parking lot, Luna was gone. He went back inside, going straight to Clay.

“Why didn’t Luna stay?” he asked his brother.

“She had to go.”

“Go where?”

“Paris, she was called to leave sooner.”

“Fuck,” Jack pushed back his curls. He pulled out his phone and called her so he could at least meet her at the airport to say goodbye.

He’d been so busy, caught up with making sure Kathryn was comfortable that he didn’t know when Luna arrived. He wasn’t sure if she’d come after their almost kiss. An almost kiss that happened at the most inopportune time. If he was being honest, years ago he’d used to think it would be him and Luna that would have gotten together. But he could never bring himself to share his feelings for her. Mostly out of fear that she didn’t feel the same. He would rather spend a lifetime having her as his best friend instead of losing for the rest of his life.

“What the hell?” he said to himself when the call didn’t go through. He tried again and the same thing happened. He looked at Clay and in a panicked voice he asked, “Can you call her? I think I have spotty service.”

“Babe, Neelam said it’s time to cut the cake.” Kathryn said, walking over.

“Can you tell her to wait five minutes? I’m trying to–”

She cut him off with her nose turned upward. “Jack, your friends are getting a bit rowdy. Let’s do it now, yeah?”

“Fine,” he gave in. He looked at Clay before walking towards the cake and gave him a pleading look to try to get a hold of Luna.

Clay nodded and texted Luna. She replied almost instantly and told him to tell Jack to leave her alone. He cursed, unsure how to tell his big brother that without breaking his heart. Luckily Jack’s coat was draped over a chair. He slipped in Luna’s envelope in the inside pocket and went to his brother, ready with a lie about how he had shitty service too.

* June *

“How many other secrets were you hiding from me Kathryn?” Jack asked too calmly for someone who just overheard their now ex-girlfriend say she tried to baby trap him because she got financially cut off from her dad.

“Jack–”

“Do you really think I was that stupid to fall for your shit? I’m sorry you’re not fucking responsible and got cut off by your dad, but you won’t use me for your bullshit. Please get your shit, leave my key and never fucking contact me ever again.” he said.

“When my dad finds out–”

“The same dad that cut you off because you spent your trust fund on partying? Yeah go ahead and call him. I was just on the phone with him and he also heard what I heard.” he crossed his arms.

“Fuck you!” she stormed off to their room.

She had moved in two weeks ago to his apartment in Atlanta and was barely settling in so it didn’t take long for her to pack up. A few minutes later she came back to the living room with her things. In her hand was a blue envelope.

“Here, I found it in your jacket the night of your birthday party.” She said, handing it to him.

Kathryn left without another word. Jack made a call to the lobby and had her removed from the list of people that could be taken up to his penthouse. He then blocked her number and removed her from social media. While he packed for his Europe work trip while he went through all protocols about the break up with Neelam and had her make sure all NDAs were signed.

Once he was done packing and Jack tore the envelope from the side and carefully took out the birthday card. He recognized Luna’s loopy writing. He began reading:

Jack there’s no easy way of saying this, but I’m in love with you. I have been for years. I don’t know when or how, but I am. And because of that, I’m leaving Louisville. I can’t be in the same place you are knowing I can’t be with you. I think it’s best if we end whatever friendship we have here.

I need time to figure out who I am. I can’t keep seeing myself as the girl who’s pining over her best friend when you’re in a relationship.despite how I feel about you, I’m happy you found someone who you can love that same way I wished you loved me.

Thank you for all these years of friendship. I’m sorry this is how I said goodbye, but it’s for the best.

-Luna

Jack turned the paper around to see if there was more. He checked the envelope. The only other thing inside was her half of the strip of pictures they took in a photobooth a few years back. He kept his other half in his wallet. He used to keep it tucked in his phone case, but when he started dating Kathryn, he switched it to his wallet.

He ran his thumb over Luna. He hadn’t seen her in almost four months and they felt like hell. He’d been in Boston for a few weeks filming a new project. He put himself into work. When he wasn’t working on music, he was filming something..

He hadn’t seen or heard from Luna since she left. She stayed true to her word and never contacted him. She blocked him on all social media. He’d even visited Abuela to ask about her but she always gave him vague answers about her whereabouts. All he knew was that she was in Paris, but he didn’t know how she was or if she liked the city. Well he knew she liked the city.

The first time they had gone was on a class trip in eleventh grade and snuck out to see the city. He still remembered how in awe she was at the lights and how lively the people were. That was when he realized he had feelings for her, but he was too scared to act on them. More than anything he wanted Luna in his life and he didn’t want to risk anything. So for years he kept that to himself. He felt like an absolute idiot for not seeing that Luna felt the same.

“Is this some fucked up joke?” He said to himself, crumbling up the letter.

He sat down on the couch and rubbed his face in frustration. He couldn't believe he’d been so blind to see who he wanted the whole time had also felt the same about him. He made an incredibly big mistake and now he had to face the consequences of it.

Jack’s knee couldn’t stop bouncing his knee as he and Urban approached the Givenchy after party. They had attended the show just a few hours ago, but were invited to the dinner and after party. His team was able to get him and Urban seats at the last minute. He’d been in Cannes the last few days for work and performances so he hadn’t had a chance to see Luna.

He thought he was going to see her when he was getting his fittings, but she was working on a different floor. Then when he sat next to her grandmother at the fashion show, he thought she was going to approach them, but she didn’t. She walked out with Matt and everyone else that helped with the collection. She waved and turned on her heel to go back backstage. He hoped to see her at the dinner but she spent the whole time showing off her grandmother. He had low expectations of seeing her in the club because she was a homebody. If anything he would make up some excuse to go to the Givenchy house the next day.

Jack had been at the club for less than five minutes and he felt exhausted and drained. He excused himself and went down to the bar to order sparkling water with cranberry and pineapple juice. There were three bartenders at the bar. Two of which were hard working, getting drinks out as fast as they could while the one next to Jack was busy flirting with a red head. Jack rolled his eyes and sat back waiting until the crowd lessened.

A hand smacked down on the bar close to the bartender. “There’s a million people waiting for their drinks. If you could get your dick out of your brain for three seconds and make them that would be fucking great.”

Jack recognized that voice.

“Luna?”

She turned over and her face paled.

“Um, hi.” she said.

Jack frowned. “Hi? That’s all you have to say after I haven't heard from you in months?”

“This is not the place.” Luna said, not looking at him.

“Babe, I told you to wait for me.” someone said.

A tall guy with dark brown skin wrapped his arm around Luna’s shoulders. He gave Jack a once over, unimpressed.

“Dominic, relax. I know him.” Luna shrugged her arm off him.

“Oh than fuck, I used up my straight voice with Vivi.” Dominic said in a more salacious voice. He nodded his head at Jack. “So who’s this?”

“An old friend from Louisville.” she answered vaguely.

“Right.” Jack’s jaw clenched.

Without another word he got up and went back to Urban, who was with a group of models that hung to his every word.

“Um wow, you were rude. What’s the drama there? Clearly y’all weren’t just friends.” Dominic prodded.

Luna pretended she didn’t hear him and her eyes followed Jack. He waved to a few women who called his name as he went up the steps to the VIP section. He leaned over to Urban and whispered in his ear. They bro hugged and Jack was going back down the steps.

“Tell Vivi, I’m not feeling well and called an Uber.” she told Dominic.

She didn’t wait for a response. She gave him a side hug and trailed after Jack.

“Jack, wait!” she yelled when they were outside.

He turned around. “What, Luna?” he snapped.

“I’m sorry.” she said quietly.

“For what exactly? For dismissing me to your friend like I’m nothing? Like this hasn’t been the worst few months of my life because you left?” He went off.

“YOU HAVE A GIRLFRIEND JACK!” She waved her arms angrily. “What was I supposed to do? Watch you live your life with your girlfriend while I still pine for you? I needed to be away for my own sake and sanity.”

“We broke up.” Jack revealed.

“What are you talking about?”

“If I had known sooner that I had a chance I would have acted on it, Luna.”

Before she could ask him what he meant, he captured her lips with his. The kiss was slow like a test in the waters. Lust quickly took over as their kiss intensified. He held her in place with his other arm as his lips dominated her. Luna whimpered into his mouth when Jack deepened the kiss. They pulled away, breathless, Luna realized they somehow ended up back at Jack’s hotel suite.

“I fucking love you, Luna.” Jack murmured against her lips.

“I love you too, Jack.” She smiled.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear that.”

“Me too.”

With that Luna pulled Jack into another deep kiss. Without breaking their kiss, he grabbed the back of her thighs and picked her up. He carried her down the hall to his room. Jack tossed Luna on the bed and slipped off his jacket and kicked off his shoes. Luna reached over and unzipped her leather calf length boots, a birthday present from Jack when he first earned his first big royalties check, and placed them on the floor.

He crawled on top of her and gently pulled her chin, bringing her lips to his. One of her hands found its way to Jack’s curls while the other dug its nails onto his back. She moaned out into his mouth, feeling his hips rut against her core. She shifted around so her legs were more open for him to move more comfortably. They continued to kiss as their hips kept moving in sync with each other.

“Wait.” she pushed him off her.

“Are we moving too fast? I’m sorry–”

“No, I have to check in with my grandma so she doesn’t think I got kidnapped like in that one Liam Neeson movie.”

She went to the living room part of his suite where they discarded their jackets and her bag. She quickly sent her grandmother a text that she was catching up with Jack and that she won’t be home until the morning. Abuela replied instantly with a ‘finally’ and a ‘use condoms’. She rolled her eyes and joined Jack in bed.

Jack gave her a chaste kiss on the lips and returned to kissing down to her chest. He pushed up her dress until it was off of her, revealing her breasts to him. He tweaked one of her nipples while he nipped and sucked her other breast. Satisfied with the love bites on her chest, he kissed down her stomach to the band of her panties.

Luna cleared her throat making him look up at her. “You’re clean right? I don’t have condoms, but I’m on the IUD.” she asked.

“Yeah, I haven’t been with anyone since Kathryn.”

After their break up, he got tested and came out clean.

“Okay cool.” Luna nodded.

Jack sat back on his knees and pushed her legs open. Her arousal glistened through the lace of her panties. Luna lifted her hips, so he could remove her panties. He slowly pulled them off and tossed them to the side then climbed back in bed. He licked his lips and placed her legs over his shoulders.

Shamelessly, he spit on her clit and sucked it, making her moan. Then he wiggled his tongue at her entrance. He moaned out at her taste. It was taking everything in him not to ravish her. He took his time with her, savoring her. Minutes passed when he finally slid his middle and ring finger in her. She gasped at his touch. Her hands tangled in his hair pulling it for relief.

“Fuck!” She moaned out. He sped up his fingers then he slipped them out of her and rubbed her clit, bringing her to her climax.

“Jack!” She repeated his name over and over as she came. Jack licked her release and laid back next to her. Luna rolled over and placed her leg over his waist.

“I love you.” She said softly. She stretched over to kiss him.

“I love you too, Luna.” he mumbled against her lips.

Jack pushed her hips so she was directly on top of his crotch. They kissed for what seemed like hours. Teasing touches here and there, only to end up wrapped up in each other’s arms. Jack was hugging her back while Luna placed her hands on his chest. She slowly moved her hips against him.

“I always knew our first time would be with you on top.” Jack commentted.

“You’re so fucking corny.” Luna laughed, covering her mouth.

Jack pulled her hand away and sat up so he could kiss her properly. Luna reached between them and slowly stroked Jack. Then she lifted her hips, lining herself over his cock. She slowly slid all the way down his length. She moaned out at how good Jack felt inside her. She rocked her hips against him, getting used to him. She slowly bounced herself up and down while continuing to rock her hips against his. He sat up and brought her closer to him. Luna’s arms tightened around his neck. Jack bucked his hips upwards to meet her thrusts and she let out a soft moan.

“Feel so good, Jack.” she whimpered..

Her orgasm came out of nowhere. She clung to Jack as she continued to ride him. He still kept thrusting into her through her orgasm. But he slowed down, letting her come back from orgasm only to take her once more.

“Want you to finish in my mouth, Jack.” Luna said, pushing back his sweaty curls.

“Yeah, whatever you say.”

Luna playfully rolled her eyes and shifted her body so she laid horizontally. She spit on his length and slowly jerked him off with both hands. She slipped him as far as she could take him. He let out an incoherent sound until she reached the back of her throat. She did it a few more times, egging him on.

She pulled away, with a trail of saliva spilling from the corner of her mouth, and kissed down his length. Luna slowly bobbed her head up and down his length, getting her mouth used to him. She took him a little deeper each time. One of his hands gripped the back of her head, keeping her in place as he thrusted into her mouth. Luna let out soft moans. Her hands gripped his legs, nails digging into his thighs. She continued to stroke him as he came, taking all of his release. She cleaned him up and cuddled next to him.

“So we did that…” Luna trailed off after a few moments of silence.

Jack pushed himself up against the headboard. “Do you regret it?”

“Do you?” She asked.

“Fuck no.”

“Okay, good.” She giggled. The bed sheet covering Jack’s waist caught her attention. There was a large tent shape formed. “Already? It wasn’t even five minutes.”

“My dick can’t help that you’re finally naked with me and not a figment of my imagination.”

“I guess we should do something about that.”

“We should.”

Jack gently pushed her back on the bed. They slowly kissed, having all the time of the world. Unbeknownst to them was that Urban had entered his suite and was going to give Jack some information about Luna that he acquired. He unlocked the door separating his suite and Jack’s.

“Yo, you better buy me some blunts with all this shit I have for you– ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?” Urban yelled, pulling off his soundproof headphones.

Jack covered Luna before Urban could get a look of her face. “Dude, what the fuck?”

“What the fuck? That’s all you have to say? Here I thought my best friend was fucking heartbroken but you’re out here getting his dick wet. I went out of my way to get you some info on Luna.”

“Hi Urb.” Luna sat up, covering her chest.

Urban took in the scene in front of him. “Nevermind. I’ll let y’all continue. Pardon me for interrupting.”

He put on his headphones and went back to his suite.

“Sorry.” Jack mumbled.

“Don’t worry about it. Nothing could ever embarrass me after my grandparents walked in on me and my date for junior prom.” she said.

“True and I didn’t get the condom stuck in your pussy like bitch ass Tristian.” Jack said.

“I completely forgot my date’s name. How do you remember?”

“I had to keep tabs on my competition.” He shrugged. “And I won.”

“Is that so?” She arched an eyebrow.

“You’re naked with me in Paris. I call that a win.”

Taglist: @heavyhitterheaux @cherry4everrr @carma-fanficaddict @youngharleezy @youngharleezyxo @babyharleezy @that-90s-girllll @alinaharlow @harlowcomehome @nattinatalia @webinurcloset @gassyandsassy1 @jackharloww @awhore4moree @noescapricho-essentimiento @neon-lights-and-glitter @purecinnamonextract @whywontyoulovemecami @camificrecs @itsyagirljaz @w1ldthoughts @vanwritesfan-fiction @xxkoolkatxx

#jack harlow #jack harlow angst #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow fanfic #jack harlow one shot #jack harlow fanfiction

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mrsmarlasinger · 11 months

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Oh? My fucking god??

THIS WAS THE CONTROLLER FOR THE SUBMARINE THAT WENT MISSING???

The Logitech F710??

Like, okay, apparently the U.S. military* uses Xbox 360 controllers. I get that. It's cheap. It's technology already familiar to many young adults. I get it, I do.

*(fuck 'em)

But still. STILL.

I don't know anything about gamepads, but I do know the Logitech F710 came out thirteen years ago. I just found it on Ebay for $16 including shipping.

But surely that means that through the test of time, the Logitech F710 has proven itself to be the best around, right? A work of video game engineering so flawless, even a relatively sane individual might agree to trust it with their life....right?

Oh. Oh. Jesus Horatio Christ.

Imagine your joystick drifts and your buttons get stuck and your controller lags...while you're steering a submarine...13,000 FEET UNDERWATER.

(That's about 4,000 meters, or just under 2.5 miles. And yes, I know it's actually a submersible, not a submarine.)

Oh my god. Oh my god.

For context, according to Naval Post:

A submarine specifically built to rescue people from subs sunk deep in the sea has a maximum depth of 7,500 to 10,000 feet (2,250 to 3,000 meters). But no, with the Titan, we're talking 13,000 FEET.

So if the pressure at approximately that depth is 5,775 psi, which means 5,775 lbs (2,619 kg)—or ALMOST THREE TONS—per square inch...

...and the atmospheric pressure where I live is sitting at 14.5 psi today...

That means the sheer pressure of the ocean at that depth is, like, 400 times that of the air we breathe. So if your fucking 13-year-old video game controller drifts you into the wreckage of the goddamn Titanic, the moment your hull sustains a little damage, even the tiniest leak, you're gonezo. The sub implodes and you're pulverized. Instantly.

(Plus I hear the compression rate is so extreme, the molecules so fast-moving, that everything heats to combustion in the split second before the water puts it out. So really, you'd be incinerated before you'd be crushed. Ain't that a treat?)

But hey, maybe the pressure hull remains intact and you just lose power. Or get entangled in the wreckage of, again, THE GODDAMN TITANIC.

Then it's just you and your four rich buddies crammed into a metal tube, waiting for your 96 hours of oxygen to run out.

Navigational computers on the fucking floor. No backrests. No seats. No padding. Nothing. Just one small toilet sat in front of one tiny window.

So when the power dies and the lights go out, it's just a claustrophic sardine tin of the wealthy, alone in the suffocating pitch-dark at the bottom of the ocean, choking on the smell of their own shit.

All this, for a quarter of a million dollars per head.

Which they paid even though Stockton Rush, the CEO of OceanGate himself, said that SAFETY IS A WASTE. OH MY FUCKING—

A sadly unshocking thing to hear from the CEO of a company that's engendered safety concerns! For! YEARS!

Also unshocking: the waiver apparently mentions death three times on the first page.

You know.

In case it didn't get through to you after the first two times. Or after reading that the sub is experimental and hasn't been approved or regulated in any remotely meaningful way.

But it's okay if the MacGyvered fucking submarine crumbles like a Saltine cracker, because IT DOESN'T MATTER IF EVERYTHING FAILS! AS LONG AS THE PRESSURE HULL'S INTACT, IT'S OKAY IF YOU'RE STUCK 13,000 FEET UNDER THE SEA WITH A RAPIDLY DWINDLING SUPPLY OF OXYGEN! THE CEO OF OCEANGATE SAID SO!!!

HAHA! HA! YES, THE TOTALLY SUCCESSFUL MACGYVERED SUB WITH A COMPLETELY INTACT PRESSURE HULL!!!!

Oh my god. Oh my GOOOOOOOOD.

But hey! Remember! :) If the Juulpod-sized, Atari-run hunk of hubris doesn't literally fucking implode with you inside it, it's okay that there are 18 bolts locking you in that can't be undone without external assistance! Because Stockton Rush said you're safe as long as the (definitely pristine) hull is still intact!

So if you're bobbing on the surface of the ocean, watching seagulls cross blue sky through your single tiny porthole, listening to the pulse of white-crested waves ruffled by the cool sea breeze, drowning above water because you can't escape the slow ceaseless hourglass that is your stagnant air supply without a rescue crew—a rescue crew that can't even find you because you're mired in a vast expanse of savage ocean and oh, by the way, your communications going down is what started all this in the FIRST PLACE...

...well, don't worry! Titan's many, many, MANY successful past voyages should give you comfort! :)

But, on the very off chance this could be a dangerous and likely deadly situation, tell me: which would be the worst way to go?

Incinerating in the abrupt birth of a terrible, crushing singularity?

Asphyxiating in the lightless abyss that lurks like some arcane hell at the bottom of the ocean?

Or suffocating just as slowly above the water, with air so close you can see the misty breeze yet still...just...out...of reach?

God, I hope we save these dumbass idiots. Especially since one of them's just a 19-year-old kid. I don't even care how rich and stupid they are. I just can't imagine dying like that.

#titanic #oceangate #titanic submarine #titan submarine #titan #ocean gate #missing submarine #submarine #thalassophobia #death #long post #long post cw #june 2023 #current events #caps #caps tw

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odyssean-flower · 9 months

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Everything Shall Return to the Sea Chapter 3: We Are Trapped Together in a False Paradise (Yandere! Neuvillette x GN Reader)

how tf did this end up being 2.4k words-

i wrote this instead of sleeping so if it's messy...that's why

This is the third (bonus) chapter of Everything Shall Return to the Sea. Please read that if you want to understand what's going on

tw: dark themes, suicidal thoughts (kind of), mentions of imprisonment, my shitty dialogue

Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3

The wavering light overhead was dim and faint, more a memory than anything substantial. And yet you were craning your head towards it with all your might, like a sunflower seeking the sun.

Your arm, despite knowing full well how futile it was, reached up and tried to grasp it in your hands. Of course, nothing except for water slipped through your fingers.

Water–you’ve become so sick of that substance.

You closed your eyes and tried your best to imagine you were somewhere else. Anywhere else. A place where you were surrounded by weightless air. Your small, bare, but familiar apartment. The dull, sterile atmosphere of your job. The cozy and warm house where you met your friends in person for the first time–

That last memory sent a bolt of pain through your head, and you shook your head to get rid of it. Thinking about those people would make you fall into another spiral of depression that you might not ever be able to get out of.

The flickering light above you seemed to dart away, as though it was scared off by the sudden change in your mood. You tried to chase after it, but you couldn’t move from your spot. For a split second, you wondered if there was something weighing down your legs, and then you remembered.

You tried not to look down at the red, glittering appendage that now consisted your entire lower body.

The waters shifted behind you. You knew who was there even before turning around.

“My love, have I not told you over and over again that you must not look up at the surface? You would only strain your neck.”

The deep, smooth voice of Neuvillette, your mate–just thinking about that word made you feel ill– no longer sounded in your head, but reverberated straight into your ears. In some ways, that was a good thing. You didn’t know what you would do if he still spoke into your head.

You ignored his endearment of “my love.” You were in no mood to argue with him today, not to mention how sore your throat still was from your last yelling match with him. Well, it was more like you yelled at him while he simply stared at you blankly with his violet eyes, like it was just another tantrum you were having.

“Don’t you mean that you don’t like it when I do it?” you muttered. You let the unspoken reason hang between the two of you. Because you don’t like me clinging to my past life and rejecting you.

Neuvillette either didn’t hear your mutter or let it pass. His hand circled around your arm. “Come, my love. Let us return. I’ve prepared a wonderful surprise for you.”

You let him lead you by the arm. You were still unused to swimming with a tail and kept lagging behind, but he never hurried you. He only gave you gentle encouragements like “Yes, my dear, keep moving your tail like that” and “You’ve become so much better at swimming in such a short time” and helped you along.

He had been like this during your earliest days as a mermaid as well, when he was teaching you how to swim. Endlessly patient, endlessly understanding. You hated it. You hated the fond look in his eyes as he watched you struggle with the most basic skills that even a mermaid infant could grasp easily. You hated the firm grip of his hands on your shoulders and waist (although you quickly learned to put up with it, compared to the humiliation of crawling in the sand). And you especially hated his warm breath in your ear as he murmured instructions to you.

All of it was a reminder of the fact that you were utterly dependent on him now.

Sometimes, you wished he would just give up on you and leave you drifting in the depths alone. At least that was something you were used to for all your life: depending on yourself because there was no one else. You wondered why he didn’t. Surely even someone like him couldn’t endure constant rejection and hatred from someone he supposedly loved.

You never asked him that question. You didn’t think he would understand anyway.

His long hair billowed out and tickled your back as the two of you swam back to your abode.

Neuvillette’s people were nomadic, but they still had a permanent settlement of interconnected sea caves hidden from human eyes by the dark waters. They were currently staying there because of you.

You had expected to be met with scorn and contempt by the other mermaids for being deadweight, but instead, they treated you with a reverence befitting of a ruler. You were waited on by the other mermaids, your every need attended to before you could even voice it. There were kind smiles, warm gazes, and sincere compliments everywhere you looked. The worst part was, you were pretty sure that they weren’t even ordered by Neuvillette to do those things.

Ever since you were a child, your deepest wish was to be cared for and loved by someone, even if it were just one person. But now that your wish was fulfilled in the worst way possible, you simply wanted to be left alone. Even your previous solitude seemed like a comforting blanket to you now.

You had learned the hard way that mermaids considered the mating bond to be a sacred, inviolable connection. When you begged one of the mermaids to help you escape back to the surface, they had simply stared at you with wide, uncomprehending eyes. “But…are you not Lord Neuvillette’s mate? Why would you ever want to be parted from him?” they asked, as though your kidnapping and forced transformation at his hands were completely irrelevant. They immediately took you to Neuvillette, who proceeded to imprison you in your chambers for what felt like an eternity (the passage of time was so difficult to tell now). That wouldn’t have been so bad, if not for the fact that he chained you to your bed and insisted on taking care of you himself, from brushing your hair to feeding you. He No one else was allowed to see you. He was your sole source of companionship.

After he elicited a promise from you to never even think about escaping again, he unchained you and kissed your bruised wrists.

“I know it’s a difficult adjustment for you, but you must accept the fact that this is your new life now.”

You remember staring up at those violet eyes and feeling white-hot, visceral hatred for the first time in your life.

On your way back to the caves, the two of you were greeted by many mermaids. Even through the filter of your hatred for him, you could still tell that Neuvillette was a respected and well-loved leader.

“Lord Neuvillette and his mate look so lovely together,” you heard one sigh. “I wish I could have a bond like that one day!”

“Me too!” another chimed in. “I’d be happy for the rest of my life if my mate had half of Lord Neuvillette’s devotion. It’s so sad that humans can’t seem to understand it.”

“Oh yes, it’s truly pitiful. I do hope that they will learn soon.”

The gulf of understanding between you and the mermaids never felt more stark to you than now. All of your previous research and animated discussions with your friends seemed naive and silly. These creatures were fundamentally different from you.

You peek up at Neuvillette’s face and was mortified when your eyes met his. They softened, and a gentle smile appeared on his lips. Your stomach churned with a mix of different emotions. Despite everything, he was still the most beautiful man you had ever seen.

“We’re almost there to your surprise,” he told you. “I’ve been working on it for some time now. I think you’ll love it.”

Sometimes, you wondered if he really believed in what he was saying. Did he really think that this was the best and only way? Did he really believe that he was being kind to you? Did he really believe that you would come to love him?

Neuvillette led you to a round dome of opaque sea glass. There was a watery film set into the dome that appeared to be the door. You weren’t sure what you were expecting, if at all. All you hoped was that he left you alone to your thoughts soon.

You crossed the threshold and gasped at the sight in front of you.

The whole interior was softly illuminated by a wispy light set in a glass orb overhead, like a miniature sun. The ground was covered in swaying verdant green kelp. Colorful corals clustered in neat, stone-lined beds. A sleek, wooden bench was half-hidden under the shades of two rose-red weeping willows, whose branches almost brushed against the ground. Little fish swam amongst the branches like birds. At the center of it all was a white marble statue covered in moss. It must have come from some long-ago shipwreck, for its features and contours were heavily eroded. You could somehow tell, though, that it once depicted someone beautiful.

It was a perfect recreation of the park near your apartment you once frequented, but the underwater version.

You suddenly recalled telling Neuvillette about it during one of your weekly visits. He had taken an unusual interest in it and asked you many detailed questions about it. You had a tough time trying to describe it in a way he would understand, so you brought him pictures on your next visit. The intense way he had pored over them made you laugh and tease him at the time. You remembered even wishing there was a way to bring him there.

“I know that you’ve had a difficult time adapting to your new life,” Neuvillette’s voice brought you back to the present. “And I cannot blame you. Your old life was all you knew, after all, and you cannot help but cling to it. I made this place for you in the hopes that its familiarity would grant you some comfort. Of course, only you and I can enter this place. It will be our little secret refuge away from the world.”

The expectation in his voice made you look up at his face. The hopeful anticipation in his eyes caused something inside you to snap.

“I don’t understand…” you whisper.

“What don’t you understand?” he frowned.

“I don’t understand how you can do all these things. I don’t get how you can kidnap me, force me to transform into a mermaid, take me away from everything I care about, and act like I will inevitably return your feelings. I don’t get it at all! I don’t get why you try so hard to get me to love you, even…even doing all this! Why do you keep on trying, even when you know I will only reject you and hate you? Why? Is it because of that stupid mating bond you and all your people care so much about? Don’t you hate being forced to love someone because of something in your body that you can’t control? Don’t you want to be free of that? Why don’t you just dump me somewhere and find a new mate? I’m sure there’s plenty of mermaids out there who would happily become your mate if you just asked them. Better yet, just kill me! Just kill me and be rid of it all!”

Your words bubbled up from the pit of your stomach and erupted from your mouth in the form of a scream. You had never shouted like this before. You were panting heavily, and the back of your eyes was burning hot. You were probably crying right now, but it had been a long time since you had felt tears on your skin.

Despite it all, you glared up into his eyes, willing your feelings to reach him.

And they did.

Neuvillette’s face was twisted in rage. He looked furious. You had never seen that look on his face before. Your survival instincts, which you long thought were dormant, caused you to back away. I’ve gone too far, you thought. This is it.

Neuvillette’s hand reached out to grab your wrist and pulled you towards him, crushing you against his chest.

“Never say that again,” his voice was a trembling hiss. “Never tell me to kill you, ever again. I would rather give myself up to the humans than lay a finger on you.”

You couldn’t say anything. Not just because he was holding you so tightly, but also because the fierce emotion in his voice took your breath again.

“You ask me why I keeping persisting? Let me ask you a question, then. Why do you keep on clinging to that miserable, hopeless life you led? There’s no one who loves you or sees you for who you truly are. You attach yourself to those so-called friends of yours, who have never done anything for you, and yet you give all you have to them. What’s more, you gave yourself to someone barely knows your soul, deluding yourself into believing that is love. And you ask me why I did what I did?”

His voice was like the rumbling of the earth. It shook you to your core and you could do nothing except listen even as your heart sank. He never understood you at all.

“I have loved you, wanted you, thought only of you since the day we met. I’ve belonged to you, just as you’ve belonged to me, far before the bond snapped into place. The bond only confirms what already exists. Abandoning you, killing you, will be akin to killing me as well.”

You felt Neuvillette’s arm shake around you. It took you a few moments to realize that he was crying as well.

You wondered. What if Neuvillette had confessed his feelings to you normally? Would you have accepted them? Maybe, if it was the old, lonely you, you would have agreed to be with him in a heartbeat. But the you who finally experienced friendship and being cared about?

It was pointless to think about such what-ifs now. Those possibilities had dissolved into seafoam, along with your old life. Or perhaps your old life had been nothing but bubbles on the surface of the water to begin with, and this was the start of your real life.

One thing was for sure: you felt things with Neuvillette that you’ve never felt for anyone before. And you doubted that would change.

In that imitation garden at the bottom of the sea, you tilted your head upward and kissed the man who you were eternally trapped together with.

#neuvillette x reader #yandere neuvillette x reader #genshin impact #genshin x reader #my works

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autisticlancemcclain · 10 months

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“Indeed,” Coran says, cutting a glance back at the rest of the gathered team. He meets eyes with Keith, then glances at the stubborn way Lance distances himself from the rest of them, and purses his lips. “We have some matters of our own to settle, I believe.”

———

The walk back to the Castle is silent, and endlessly, endlessly tense.

Lance expected it to be. Well, kind of. He didn’t expect it to be easy. He’s grateful, at least, that he was allowed to say goodbye to Corduroy, to bite back his tears and hold the great beast tightly. He’s grateful at least that the team gave him that kindness, before this strainedness, the discomfort, the side-eyes and significant looks.

Coran isn’t mad at him, which is better than nothing. Coran slung his arm around Lance’s shoulder the second they left to the castle, the way Lance does to Hunk when he’s anxious, and walks next to him merrily humming to himself.

“You did the right thing, child,” he whispers as they climb the steps, lagging behind everyone else. “Were there things you could have done more gracefully? Yes. But you made the best choice and worked with what you had. I’m proud of you.” He presses a kiss to Lance’s hair and squeezes his shoulders gently, allowing Lance a moment to shudder an exhale and compose himself, before letting go and walking off, knowing Lance can handle himself.

Lance straightens his spine. He can handle this.

Everyone stops just inside massive front hallway of the castle entrance. Lance considers just marching forward to whatever room he likes and making them follow him, but he doesn’t quite have that much confidence. As unlikely as it may be, some part of him hopes that no one is even going to bring up this whole…thing. He hopes Shiro is going to clap his hands and say ‘great job, team’, and they’re going to split off to unwind as they always do after missions.

But of course not.

“So are gonna head to the briefing room, or…?” Hunk asks, wringing his hands.

For whatever reason, the idea of locking himself in the briefing room to sit at a table and discuss the matter as they usually do makes him want to throw up. The idea of going anywhere, or waiting even one half second longer to talk about the situation makes him feel like he’s going to explode.

“You promised that we were a team,” Lance blurts. He’s not sure who he’s addressing, and he’s not facing anyone, eyes trained to a random spot on the wall, but the words bubble out of him, as warbled and hurt as he feels. “But you left me.”

Lance can feel his eyes begin to burn, and the humiliation of it makes him hunch, makes the surety of Coran’s earlier words fade to the back of his mind. He can feel the lump in his throat grow larger and larger, feel the unsteady pound of his heart, but he can’t bring himself to move, to look around the room, to meet eyes with his teammates. He forces them open and keeps his gaze locked on the wall, unblinking, terrified to let the water he feels building start to drop, because he can’t afford to look weaker than he already does.

“I try—” He can’t quite manage to choke down the tears, and his voice comes out weak from the failure of it, not quite raspy but reedy, almost. “I try so hard. I know that’s not enough, but —”

“It is.”

Lance looks over, startled at the same choked quality the words have to his own, and finds Hunk in a similar state, cheeks wet and eyes blurry. The rest of the team, upon further inspection, do not look angry with him but distraught, and it shocks Lance, truly, because he knows that they love him, obviously they do, but then why was he less important? Why was his position the wrong one to have? Why was he not consulted with the same seriousness as a random dignitary from a not-yet-allied planet, if not moreso?

“You guys don’t trust me enough to make real team decisions,” he whispers. “I’m not — I’m not smart enough for you.”

Every face looks stricken. Coran, even, looks at Lance wide eyes.

But it is Keith who makes a strangled noise, a sound caught in his throat, and says “No, Lance, that’s not —”

— and something in Lance, that has been bent since yesterday, cracks in two.

“I trusted you the most,” he chokes out. He doesn’t say the words so much as flings them in Keith’s direction, barbed and pointed. “You’re my — you said I was your right hand. You said you couldn’t lead without me. You said there’s no one else you trust more to have your back.” His face twists. His next words are near silent, but nonetheless ring through the hall. “You lied.”

Keith’s hand, extended halfway between them, remains frozen, unmoving, as still as he is. The only part of him that moves is his chest, rapidly swelling and flattening with his quick breaths. Lance’s breathing is just as quick, heartbeat only racketing with every inhale, but none of it is actually managing to carry any oxygen to his lungs, and his vision begins to blur, limbs start to feel heavy.

“I just want to be your equal,” he manages, before his legs begin to give out from under him and he stumbles to the floor, barely managing to catch himself in a sitting position. He sees Shiro twitch out of the corner of his eye, either a startled jump or a reflex to catch Lance does not know, but ultimately he doesn’t move; none of them do, frozen in their spots.

For a while Lance sits there. At one point he puts his head between his bent knees, breathing heavily, blinking the spots out of his eyes. It takes his lungs a long time to start working properly, for every inhale to actually bring in air, but even then it’s shuddering. All the strength and stubbornness, and maybe even adrenaline, that has kept him up through this mission has leaked out of him. He is too weak even to stand.

He feels when someone sits down heavily in front of him. The floor vibrates slightly with the force of it, tingling at his palms flat on the floor.

“You make me nervous,” Keith says quietly. “I’ve never met anyone like you.”

“That’s a stupid cliche.”

“You’re a stupid cliche.”

Lance’s head is still between his knees, but he can almost feel the intensity of Keith’s wince, the force at which he cringes in on himself. It unfortunately makes him smile.

“…Sorry. Reflex.”

It’s not okay, really. But he’s getting there.

“It’s okay. You’re still learning how to express your big boy feelings.”

Keith kicks him gently on the ankle, and this time Lance looks up, meeting his wry smile.

“I really am,” he says softly. He holds Lance’s gaze for a moment, then his expression shifts to something more troubled, eyebrows creased and mouth turned down, although his indigo eyes hold the same softness.

“You do things…I’ve never seen anyone do what you do. No one can come close. No one else can coo at a fear demon spider, no one else can befriend man-eating vines, no one else can scoop up a scorpion. No one else can tame a grizzly bear the size of a house. That’s all you, Bug Boy.”

Lance’s breath hitches. Keith’s use of the nickname is deliberate, evident in the slow and careful way he said it, and it is a risk. He knows the history behind the name, and Lance’s history in general. Further still he recognizes the precocity of the situation they’re in.

But for the first time since Lance learnt what that nickname really meant, since he learnt how most of his peers felt about him, the name doesn’t sting. In fact, something like pride blooms in his chest, if cautious and surrounded by doubt.

“Then why didn’t you let me try my way? Why were you — why was everybody — so dismissive?”

Keith shrugs. “Honestly? I was floundering. I was completely out of my element and I was stressed out and I just chose the easiest option.”

“The option that was the least fair to you,” Allura summarizes, taking a seat next to them. “And I’m sorry.”

“Me too,” Hunk says. Pidge and Shiro quickly follow suit, earnest nods and leaky eyes, all coming to join Lance on the floor. On even footing. Coran’s hand comes to rest gently on his head.

“We will do better next time,” Shiro promises. “You have very distinctive strengths, Lance. I’ll be remiss to forget then again.”

“Ditto!” Pidge says, solemnly holding her hand up.

Lance considers making them squirm and really beg for it, but tears are actively streaming down his face, and also his mouth keeps trying to smile without his permission, so he decides to let it slide.

“I’ll hold you to that,” he threatens.

Keith grins at him. “Good, you Snow White-ass heart attack inducer.”

———

full fic

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diaryujin · 5 months

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𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄? (𝐈𝐓'𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔)

summary: you’re the best thing that’s happened to the girls – a life-changing event. it shows.

OR little things that (G)I-DLE do with you and only you

genre: fluff

includes: google translated thai and korean pls do not come after me if it’s wrong or weird, indirect mention of soojin leaving but oh well, got a little deep in yuqi’s bit, mention of idol struggles, wHY ARE THERE SO FEW WARNINGS

pairing: idol! (g)i-dle x non-idol! fem! Reader

word count: 1.3k

a/n: this is all fluff, a rare exhibit even i’m shocked…

taglist: @kflixnet

cho miyeon

Miyeon is known for being extremely feminine and girlish and being on the receiving end of affection. It’s her trait, something everyone adores her for, and something she’s proud of. Yet, with you, she ends up doing things that are traditionally done by ‘the giver’ or the ‘man in the relationship’. Often, you’ll see her covering your shoulders with her favorite jacket when it’s cold, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you closer when you seem uncomfortable, letting you borrow her shirts and accessories, and – hear ye, hear ye – big spooning you. She does it all so casually and without a word leaving her mouth, just a sweet smile, making it seem like a normal thing to do when, in reality, it isn’t. She’s giving you her prized things without a single word of complaint – which isn’t the experience of the other members, as they have so grumbled to you before.

Can you blame her? You’re one of the very few things that truly belong to her, and she can’t help but want to show everyone else sometimes, even if it breaks character. Plus, you look adorable in her outfits, and she’ll always push aside her narcissism and self-love for you.

yontarak nicha (minnie)

Nicha speaks to you in English, which is how she’s practiced and became proficient in it. She often finds herself malfunctioning though because of the crap you do to the point that she thinks in three languages. If you do something stupid to annoy her, for example, the thought train in her brain choo-choos from “โอ้ ให้ตายเถอะ เธอทำอะไรลงไป-?” to “잠깐만 왜 그렇게 웃는 게 이렇게 귀엽지?” to “OH CRAP THERE’S FLOUR IN MY HAIR?!” in a split second. It’s crazy to her because, before you, her mind’s default language was Thai, only translating it to words in English or Korean or something else she knew if she had to speak to someone who wasn’t from her country, which was a huge portion of the world. For you to be able to make her think multilingually? That was a feat she never saw happening. She makes sure that she speaks in English by the end of the day though, which is why she lags a couple of times when trying to respond to you.

First, her thoughts are jumbled in different languages. Second, she has to bring them all back to her native language - Thai. Third, she has to translate what she wants to say from Thai to English. Fourth, she has to make sure she doesn’t end up directly translating Thai phrases and idioms to English, where they make no sense. Give her a break.

(Thai - oh shit what did she just do-? Korean - wait why is she so cute laughing like that?)

seo soojin

Soojin is quiet. She was the quietest member in (G)I-DLE, a stark contrast to the other girls. She also used to playfully reject most affection that they (Shuhua) offered, acting all tsundere-like. When it comes to you, however, you find that she’s the one initiating almost everything. Random back hugs, her hand suddenly sliding into yours perfectly, her lips puckering into that adorable duck lip she has when your faces are barely touching, you feeling your cheeks being cupped by her as she gives you uncalled-for kisses and more. If you try to push her away or ignore her acts of love, she’ll playfully whine and pester you to give her the attention that she desires from you. Of course, she knows where to stop bothering you and to give you space when you seriously need some alone time, but in moments unlike that, she’ll be like a small toddler bothering their parent for something insignificant.

It’s like you’re the Soojin to her Shuhua in SooShu, which is ironic if anything. She can’t be bothered to change her mannerisms though – she loves you so dearly that she’s afraid her heart might burst and she wants to make sure you know that.

jeon soyeon

Soyeon wrote Queencard and Allergy on a whim after you once told her that you didn’t like the way your body looked. You had been her muse for a few love songs, her favorite example being when she collaborated with Nicha on the lyrics of Dahlia and got endlessly teased by the girl for months on end for it (“You’re a simp!”), but these two were dedicated to you. Of course, she never mentioned it to anyone for fear of your name getting leaked out to fans, and she wasn’t going to get made fun of for loving you twice – she learned her lesson with one girl, imagine if all the others joined in on it? She didn’t allow you to listen to either until it was released officially, but it was all worth it when she got to see you screaming ‘why am I me?’ and ‘my boob and booty’s hot’ 24/7 around her.

She’d always sport a small smile when she saw you listening to it, knowing that this made you feel at least a little bit better and confident in yourself. You had done so much for her and had been her rock and inspiration when she struggled and this was the least she could do to repay the favor.

(if you don’t like queencard or allergy sHhHh just go with it)

song yuqi

Yuqi is loud and argumentative to the point she can break the eardrums of whoever she sits in a heated discussion. She uses it to her advantage when she wants people to see her viewpoint and as a stan attractor for her group. Having to put up an image like that all the time in front of cameras and the eyes of adoring fans is exhausting though, and she always looks forward to the end of the day when she can come back to you and melt in your arms, or at least video call you if she’s on tour. You’re the calm to her storm, and she admires you for that. You’re able to handle her, rain or shine. Even if she gets overly emotional over something tiny, you’ll always be there to console her. Her favorite pastime is to simply cuddle with you on the couch and talk to you about random shit quietly as she closes her eyes and lets you hold her close. She can be herself with you, plain and simple, without worrying about what you think of her.

You’re her comfort space, where she can just be. As an idol, such a privilege is hard to get, which is why you’re her little secret, hidden away from almost everyone except a select few, and reserved for her only.

yeh shuhua

Shuhua is boisterous. She loves to make quips at people and bullies them playfully (just look at Miyeon). All the members and her family are victims of her teasing – no one is spared, except you. Instead, she lets you poke fun at her, with smacks to her head, mocking whatever she does, making disgusted looks at her when she acts cute, and whatnot. She’ll patiently wait there for you to be done before responding to you with an exasperated sigh or an insult back. It’s not as harsh as what she’s said to the other girls, and they have noticed the obvious favoritism whenever you go over to their dorms. They always complain about it to Shuhua, especially Yuqi, saying that they should get some of her love too. She denies any accusations of special treatment and argues back that they’re not her partner, you are, and thus they’re not worthy of her affection. It usually ends with Yuqi and Shuhua bantering for a long while as the rest, including you, watch in amusement.

You’re so special, one of the best things that’s happened to her. As much as she loves her group, you’ll always be on a higher pedestal in her head than them, resulting in a free pass and a shield from her relentless taunts. You don’t know whether to be grateful or a little concerned, but it’s nice to boast about a liberty to the others and watch their faces of annoyance.

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bentosandbox · 19 days

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Ambience Synesthesia tutorial blog

rambled this out because I didn't have inflight wifi otw home and the turbulence was too crazy to draw

Buying the ticket

erm so they only dropped the tickets like slightly less than a month before lol kinda insane

The concert tickets were sold on Damai so you need a CN number or know/pay someone with one who'd buy it for you which is what I did by recommendation (A tier 1280 + 400 'service fee' [apparently it would have been cheaper if they only helped you half way or something but i wasnt gonna risk running into a payment hiccup so]) Iirc they sold it in two batches but I don't remember the ratio split between first and second wave…

I got a ticket for 5/5's afternoon show (so the second last performance), I DID meet an oomf who said they managed to snag a ticket for themselves on their own (without a Professional Ticket Snatcher) so its not too impossible to attain on your own I think??? (I didn't get a CN number until like 2 days before I flew back home soo)

Professional Ticket what?? Uhhh apparently there's a whole industry/scene for this you look for listings on xianyu/taobao etc for people to buy on your behalf, you have to give them your real name and identification number (so for foreigners it'd be your passport number) for verification purposes during entry so yknow yea

getting there

You could cab directly to the venue but my friend signed us up for the free shuttle bus (they had freebies last year but not this time) and before we boarded they gave us like free water and bread (apparently free raincoats too on rainy days) which was nice of them but also insane because. the venue doesn't allow you to bring food/drinks in so a lot of people were leaving A LOT of unopened bottles near the gate and I saw a venue staff just throwing them all into the bin (HOPEFULLY JUST TO CARRY THEM AWAY IN ONE GO AND NOT FOR STRAIGHT DISPOSAL….) They drop you off near the venue but you don't go in directly, there's a 'Doctor break room' where most people are seated waiting to be ushered in batches into the venue, but also a lot of people standing around on one side of the room swapping/offering merch

merch swap

ive been told this is a very concert culture thing but i feel like its kind of different because a lot of these are so high quality ike…you could sell them at Artist Alleys but here they are just distributing for free if you have a E2 60 blorbo lmao or whatever (there seems to be a tiny…? minority that prints official art but most of them seem to be handdrawn/made)

i was too unprepared for this lol i did exchange some of my old stickers (missed out on a collapsal plastic fan bc my brain lagged when the guy asked me and i went to my auto 'sorry i dont have any merch' response' :( regretted this bc the room got a little hot from the amount of people in there and i was wearing like 3 layers with that fan on my mind)

from people watching a lot of trades are arranged beforehand on weibo/other sites unless you're willing to yell WHO WANTS TO TRADEEE/anyone wants freebies (a lot of people were also wearing 'Feel Free to Swap Merch/Ask for Freebies' tags) which i was definitely not brave enough to do lol… met up with an oomf i got to know from last dec when i attended an arknights only and they gave me some birbs and charms (bottom of post), there was someone who got a free LGD zine and charm from me bc i posted on wb that id give a free copy to anyone with a Mod 3 swire/swummer LMFAO

I had 2 more people to meet but, uhhh so I bought an esim for mobile data and it would intermittently lose signal here and there which was a little annoying when getting coffee but it just died entirely when i reached the venue and it was kind of Dire because i was waiting for one more friend who was coming over from the fes and i couldn't contact them lmao. told the friend i came with to go in first because I thought if my food got confiscated at least my oomf could see it beforehand LOL

waited outside in a light drizzle for an hour trying to trouble shoot my data to no avail and ended up borrowing a staff's wifi hotspot to get my entry qr code (I actually bought a second data roaming plan on my local sim but i quite stupidly did not check the country coverage and only learned later that night that 'Asia' doesn't cover China kuxiao) she was so nice i was (bow emoji) so sorry to trouble you im a stupid gaijin and she was like no its ok enjoy shanghai!! pien

spent a good 30min next to this board praying for data to no avail

the show

erm anyway because of that clownery above i more or less missed the first piece (the one w the goated hoho) but at least i wasnt the guy next to me who went for a bathroom break right before starset came up

The live singing this year was definitely an improvement I think… I can't really remember the setlist off the top of my head but I'm sure someone else has already listed it out, there were a couple of new pieces that weren't related to the concert groups like a Babel/Kazdel?? one sung in Latin, a Victoria…? one (in victorian ofc) also an Amiya (? just remembering by the visuals they used lol) one in Japanese

ohh yeah so almost every track would start with like a faction logo transitioning in from 3d to 2d which was cool but also amusing because it was honestly bringing quite the 'I will Make Your Company Logo Into 3D Fiverr' vibes

Since I missed the first piece idk if any of The Dreamer(s) got 3D models but The Pilgrim(s why are they all singular) had Kaltsit playing on that piano (there was also a replica of that piano on stage the white one complete with 'Arknights' text on it lmao) and Siege being cool running around in 3D (and ofc Eureka during her denpa number) it was very cool but man... its a pity the other characters in the group just get their live2d png during the beginning and effectively get sidelined lool compared to say Phenomenal Agents idk if i like this tradeoff but that eureka bit was so good sheesh #NOVAFIVE⭐ULTRALIVESWEEP

The other stuff was really great too looking at you Lone Trail medley…!!!!! I might be wrong but I... assume... you're encouraged to karaoke bc they always show the lyrics on screen… I couldn't even hear myself anyway but it was very fun singing songs you can't get on joysound/etc with a whole crowd going at it too (even if most of them would only sing 1-2 lines of the chorus)

Mary Clare did Radiant (they had the lyrics scrolling on the sides very cool) and iirc the Throne group's song...? Radiant was so fun live

Starset did Monster > Telescope and when the latter ended they were like Bye! and we(?) started yelling ENCORE--awkwardly because idk how they do it here (I was half expecting it to be JP style 'an-call-roo' but a bunch of us just yelled en-core en-core here and there until they returned to perform Infected) speaking of yelling.. between every piece when they had to switch sets people would just yell memes or skill names (like Dage's) to pass the time or sth i barely caught half of whatever they were memeing about

did i forget to mention anything else uhhh originium rock turntable for Guide Ahead's boss theme/Dossoles Lobby and they had IS4 medley live throat singing very cool also the dancers they got for silbenherze's boss theme good stuff...

iirc after starset was like a behind the scenes video of how HG prepared for AS and a recorded lowlight video saying some stuff that i forgot LOL just some thank you message basically. 9.5/10 bc no missy/shu EP live

i just realised i forgot to display all the merch from the A tier ticket but w/e. light stick photo ft. merch swaps/gifts from friends and strangers 🥹 (the iffy lenticular card was literally dropped into my bag by an iffy coser (wearing the LT outfit..?!) while waiting for the cab LMAO)

#arknights #bentotexto #will blog about the festival in another post because i dont think theyll let me post that many photos #yeah i got the logos/theresa pillow but im giving it to a friend

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