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udretlnea · 1 year

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An Idealized Image

Prompt: You die after getting hit by a truck and inspect your suddenly ideal appearance in the new world. Inspired by this post by @mists-reading-nook

A/N: Man, starting a story with disconnected parts is fun and difficult. First time using this literary device so be patient with me.

Words: 755

You hadn’t expected getting hit by a truck to hurt so damn much. But you’d gladly do it again if it meant you’d protect a child from getting run over.

Although you were dying, you still could feel the barest sensations around you; vaguely there was muffled shouting and crying. Good, the kid was safe and the driver was getting yelled at. Not that that mattered to you anymore.

Oh well, at least it’s over now.

The first world has been chosen. Initiating upload link.

You thought you heard someone, but that’s crazy. You were dead. The dead don’t hear voices. Maybe this was one of those post-death auditory hallucinations. Do…do the dead even have those? Actually, I guess nobody would know…except the dying. Ugh. What a morbid thought. I expected myself to have prettier final thoughts.

Link established. Uploading soul to the Samsara system now. Beginning samsara cycle #1…godspeed.

There it was again. You started thinking that maybe you weren’t dead, when suddenly you felt your soul being pulled down…down…down into the darkness. Rather than become panicked you felt a sense of peace. You allowed yourself to be carried until you felt a shift in the pressure around you.

Before you could realize what was happening, you blacked out.

////

He’s not waking up…should I do it manually?

Hang on, what are those kitsunes doing?

You feel something tap-tap-tapping against your side. Your eyes flutter open, barely registering the fact that there’s green all around you. Turning your head, you see several orange foxes nudging your body. The sleep leaves you immediately. You surge to your feet and back away from them

They didn’t make any moves toward you. The littlest one stared at you with its big eyes; after a moment it seemed to be satisfied. It turned to the others and made a sound. It wasn’t long before they ran away, leaving you by yourself. Come to think of it, where were you?

Everywhere around, you can see plants, trees, and just general things you’d find in a forest-wait, forest!?

Oh no, where the hell did I end up? Is this some kind of spiritual afterlife? You run, not really going anywhere, just someplace to get your bearings. You find a small stream. Thinking quickly, you examine your reflection, fearful that you looked like a ghost. However, what greets you instead is your pristine face without any blemishes.

Huh? Is that…me? No, no it can’t be. I’m not that…I’m not this immaculate! This is a dream, this has to be a dream! You do anything you can to wake up; you smack, slap, and pinch yourself all in that order, but it’s no use. It seems you weren’t dreaming.

Defeated, you decide to examine yourself. Amazingly, your skin was smooth, but you don’t recall it being like that. Furthermore, your eyes were completely different. Since when were your pupils a yellow pinprick, or your irises a brilliant shade of silver? Most concerning of all was your hair. It was white as snow. You pull at it, looking closely at the roots to check if it wasn’t dyed. You looked rather beautiful. Additionally, you finally noticed that your clothes were different.

When you died, you were wearing a hoodie and regular pants and shoes. Now, you were wearing a simple white kimono; a closer inspection revealed that it looked like genuine silk. Confused yet satisfied with your examination, you looked at your surroundings. Everything was slightly dark as if it were nighttime.

Weird, but ultimately it doesn’t matter. What DOES matter is figuring out where the heck I am. You push yourself off the ground, shaking the dirt off of your clothes. You look around you, wondering which direction to walk towards when something catches your eye. Squinting, you could make out the silhouette of a city in the distance. It almost looked like Japan, but at the same time, it wasn’t. Well, there’s the path to civilization right there. Now all I need to do is get over there without trouble.

You notice a well-worn path. You take it, pleased that you took the first step in your journey. Hopefully, you’d find what you needed to know.

////

Elsewhere, a solitary figure was meditating alone in a different plane of existence. Here in this space, she would achieve eternity and resist erosion.

And then she felt it. A sudden wave of divine energy sent tingles throughout her incorporeal body. This was unprecedented…what could have caused it? She needed to know. She had to know.

#sagau #self aware genshin #genshin self aware #genshin imagines #it’s short but they can’t all be long. Or winners.#I’m satisfied I managed to include a somewhat cohesive story with hints of a plot #perhaps making a story with disconnected events will be easier than I thought.#genshin impact sagau #genshin fanfic #what if we started in Inazuma instead of Mondstadt btw?#I imagine Ei would be curious with you #oh we'll see where the plot goes

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holocene-sims · 4 months

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just a guy and his snowpal ⛄❄️

#ts4 #the sims 4 #sims 4 #sims 4 gameplay #sims 4 screenshots #simblr #it's missing my pixel son grant hours #actually i've seen a lot of him lately bc i've been working super hard on story posts - yippee yippeee!!#it's just going slow but i swear they're coming again *pinky promise*#btw if you are reading the tags and you do read the story - question??#do y'all prefer waiting for me to finish a whole bunch so a cohesive arc is released over a short span all at once?#or do you prefer more frequent updates mini updates that just take longer to cover the arc overall?#if that makes sense #it's much easier for me to do the former bc i've styled my story that way but i notice a lot of people do mini but frequent updates instead #and i'm just kinda curious if one would work better than the other or if people have preferences as readers #i don't know that i would retool it bc i like the long drawn out scenes/arcs i do but i also do want to make more story #and the potential is maybeeee there that i could push things out faster as for the whole narrative if i don't wait until i have time to mas #produce the content #like rn because i'm doing a whole sprint to finish this one arc all at once but i had to wait forever until i had christmas break to do it #holocene.png #hlcn: story extras #hlcn: grant

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carnivalcarriondiscarded · 8 months

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do—

Do Howdy and Barnaby ever get together in your human au 🥺🥺

of course they do, who do you think i am

oh BOY do i have things to say about human!Laughingstock! im so unwell about them allow me to talk and talk and talk and ta-

so in this au they're like... the ultimate slowburn. their feelings for each other slowly simmer and grow over the course of *checks nonexistent watch* a lil over a decade i think. it's not very dramatic - just soft & silly w/ just a heap of pining and a pinch of angst for Flavor

it starts when they were teens - Howdy had a lil crush on Barnaby in middle school. and how could he not? Barnaby was cute, hilarious, and kind. at this point, they weren't friends! Barnaby knew Howdy's name, but only because they'd shared a school since elementary (as with 6/7 of the other neighbors) & speaking from experience, you just Know Those Names. Howdy slowly "grew out of" this crush, especially when the friend group started forming and he & Barnaby became actual friends.

that crush would fluctuate over the years. It starts out strong and then softens into just this hum in the back of Howdy's mind. always there, often easy to ignore, just... part of him, in a way.

Barnaby has a similar experience. when he and Howdy became friends, he got a lil crush - how could he not? Howdy was cute, laughed at all of his jokes and had a few of his own, and was endearingly eccentric. but at the time, Barnaby didn't recognize the crush for what it was. so he elected to ignore it until the crush dwindled to something easily manageable, something he wouldn't realize is still there. as with Howdy's, it'd never fully go away

and its noticeable enough to their friends that they'd all kinda side-eye how touchy Howdy & Barnaby are with each other (Barnaby is a physical guy, but damn. if Howdy is nearby they Will find a way to be touching at all times), the way they always laugh at each others jokes, the way they always ask "where's [x] / is [x] coming with" whenever the other is absent. but the group couldn't be sure if they were looking into it or not. it's too subtle. over time they get so used to it that they don't bat an eye - Howdy is Barnaby's best friend after Wally. of course they're close!

but then there's this one college party Howdy drags Barnaby to (and by extension, Wally). they're drunk off their asses, Wally's edible has kicked in, the party is pretty chill and everyone is having a decent time. all three of them are on the couch, and Barnaby and Howdy start drunk-complimenting each other. naturally, this feeds their mutual attraction, and one thing leads to another! they make out on the couch. naturally with Wally sandwiched between them, snacking on chips and committing the moment to memory (it's a surprise tool that'll help them later!) neither Barnaby nor Howdy will remember this

now, something i'd like to state for Barnaby in this au! he has had a lot of relationships - from one night stands to actually dating someone for months. sometimes the one night stands were a "he takes someone home after a date, & they leave while he's sleeping and ghost him" situation. with actual dating, the other person always breaks things off after a few weeks, if not days. it breaks Barnaby's heart a little bit every time. to the point where in his mid-20s, he just... stops dating. he avoids other people's advancements towards him, he always takes a friend with him to bars/etc as a buffer, he becomes an expert at gracefully turning people down

("why, pray tell" no one asks "do they always leave him? he's such a catch!" that he is! when he was in school, it was his friend group. he'd try to introduce his 'girlfriend' to his friends, and it'd be an immediate "eugh, you're friends with those freaks? no way!" as an adult, people found it off-putting how (by societal standards) unusually close he was with Wally. also, again, a "weird" friend group. they'd think it's too much, or just not their scene, or 'why don't you date your little blue haired boyfriend', etc. Barnaby never holds it against Wally or his friends. he has the mindset of if that person was the one, they would accept every part of Barnaby - and his friends are indeed part of him. Howdy has also dated around a little, but to a much lesser extent. he's too busy! he doesn't have time for that!)

but the ball really starts rolling in their late 20s. something the group does together - as a fun lil rare hobby - is LARPing. they get really into it! Sally made them all custom costumes, Julie helped make the weapons (like a giant sword for herself), etc etc. they fully commit to the bit (even Frank <3). so at this event's point in the timeline, Eddie is fully integrated into the clique, but that's unimportant - just to show where we are!

so they're all doing their thing, it's a pretty big LARP event - there's always way more people than our dear neighbors, yk. they're just part of the crowd! & there's a big battle hosted, the group is split between teams, but Barnaby & Howdy are on the same side! yay! during the battle, Barnaby is "mortally wounded." Howdy half-drags him away from the main battle under the cover of their teammates (including Eddie and Julie) and sits him down by the tree. now, Howdy & Barnaby are the ones who get into the roleplay the most. they get lost in the sauce! they perform the hell out of everything they do!

& since Barnaby is "dying", he really acts like it. Howdy acts accordingly, but again, they get a little too emotional, a little too into it, a little lost in the sauce. genuine tears are in their eyes, Howdy's voice is genuinely shaking a little as he holds Barnaby in his "dying moments" (Barnaby is holding the sword between his arm and his side. he has ketchup on his armor.) Eddie and Julie are getting choked up just watching this happen. and as Howdy & Barnaby look into each others' tear-filled eyes, those little feelings that have been so quiet for so long come right back babey! full force! but then they all get hit with "arrows" and have to die right there and then, and the moments over. but! both Barnaby & Howdy walk away from this LARP session grappling with Partially Realized Feelings.

Barnaby struggles with this the most, since yk at this point he's sworn off dating. he's being careful with his heart! but when he tells Wally all of this, cause he tells Wally everything, Wally's like "oh. yes, i know! remember that one college party where you two kissed for an hour". and then he goes on to point out every instance where he's thought "right, Howdy and Barnaby are in love" (bc Wally is way more observant than he lets on! he saw that shit! his peepers were peepin!)

BUT IT'S STILL A SLOW BURN BABEY!

Barnaby and Howdy don't approach each other about this. they're both in the boat of "well, i'll just keep going and see what happens" to the point where they're practically dating without ever saying anything to each other. Howdy notices how Barnaby lingers around the store more. Barnaby notices how Howdy keeps turning up at his work to talk more. (they already chat so much...) but they still! dont! say! anything! but they both Know! they're not emotionally circling each other they are Dancing to their Own Music!

and Barnaby is letting himself believe that this can work because, well... Howdy already accepts him as he is. Howdy is part of the group. Howdy loves Wally just like the rest of em. Howdy has seen Barnaby at his (presumed) worst and didn't even flinch! as for Howdy, well, he just thinks this is right! his whole life no one has really caught his eyes or heart, but Barnaby is different. he's always been in Howdy's peripherals. it feels natural to love him so deeply. Barnaby slots into his life like the final piece of a puzzle!

there's a lot of stuff that happens in this inbetween state - Howdy's store burns down & almost takes him with it, there's some family drama that needs to be handled, The Crash happens, etc etc etc - so it's a while before they "actually" get together. but they're both patient! they've waited this long, even if they didn't know they were waiting. neither of them are in a rush. they're young. they have time.

#oughhhhhh so normal about them sooooo so normal (lying)#'do you know how they get together' yes. obviously. its not dramatic or a big thing or anything #they're just at a function together - maybe there's a little late evening art show in town that wally is participating in #or an afterparty for one of sallys successful plays #but in my mind barnaby and howdy are ofc sitting together off to the side #Flirting. yk how it is. barnaby's like 'hey can i practice some pickup lines ;)' & ofc howdy agrees yk yk #they're all terrible btw. howdy laughs at every single one. barnaby is on an emotional high. the rizz is strong w this one #one thing leads to another - barnaby says a terrible line essentially asking if howdy wants to ~come home with him~#but like. howdy agrees. and immediately the tone between them goes from lighthearted & joking to dead serious & tense #everything between them has gone unspoken until now but Now Theyre Saying It #suffice to say they leave the party early! they're giddy giggly lil bitches about it - acting like teens sneaking out yk yk #GOD THEY'RE SO FUCKING AGHHHHHH THROWING THEM FULL STRENGTH INTO A WOODCHIPPER #sorry. sorry. im calm now. thats a lie. i will proceed to explode #but anyway anyway #so that was a whole thing & basically long story short Barnaby has the morning of his dreams #Howdy makes him and Wally pancakes and they all have a nice quiet breakfast together. The Domesticity🤌#im gonna go shove my head in a blender now. excuse me #rambles from the bog #wh modern human au #gonna leave that as the tag #but yeah their story is just! slow! its a soft descent!#meanwhile frank & eddie are stumbling through their feelings like newborn fawns #but yeah and howdy & barnaby continue to take their time #its a while before barnaby is like 'hey wanna move in with us?'#howdy '....yeah sure'#and Boom! Howdy moves in!#and they actually get married a while later without anyone but wally knowing. they do it for tax reasons initially.#since they're not ready to be Married married but! they! want! the! benefits!#they keep their own last names and dont have rings bc again! theyre not ready for that yet!#FUCK IM OUTTA TAGS I HAD MORE TO SAY! TUMBLR INCREASE YOUR TAG COUNT! AGH

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pkmn-smashorpass · 2 months

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I should have been prepared for the ghost fuckers but I sure wasn’t

#I once again apologize for being behind on asks #I had a super busy weekend #long story short I smoked my bf at mini golf #I accidentally went to a swinger party #and I saw the superbowl for the first time #Taylor Swift won btw #Super Bowl spoilers #not a swiftie #but I think it’s funny how mad people are about her at football games #ask #anon #dusclops #pkmn smash or pass #pokemon smash or pass #smash or pass #pokemon #pkmn

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baejax-the-great · 3 months

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Back on r/AO3 and I'm about to write a fucking etiquette book for how to comment

#and this is not about long vs short vs emoji comments #this is about what you actually choose to say to total strangers #the current debate on that sub is whether it is rude to comment on a fic only to gush about the commissioned art #I don't know who needs to hear this but commenting on a fic and not talking about the fic at all is rude #that's the long and the short of it #going onto a fic to talk about something random or your friend oryour fic or some art and saying nothing about the story in front of you #that is rude #it is always rude #r/aO3 seems to believe that commenters can do no wrong #which is an insane take btw #but every fucking interaction on AO3 is a social interaction #you are engaging with strangers #and nobody would stand in line at a book signing and tell the author 'I really loved the cover art' and say nothing else #if they did everyone would think that person was wack #including the fucking authork

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kingofthewilderwest · 3 months

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Moral Orel hit me in a sweet spot. I think it’s beautiful seeing fans on different paths discussing how the show touched them. I’ve seen people who’ve left the church, agnostics, atheists, and Christians all say the show spoke deeply to them. Of course the show’s black humor on religion offended many, especially before its last season aired, but I think the show’s resulting legacy - connecting to people who’ve both left and who’ve stayed - demonstrates successful nuance to how Moral Orel was crafted.

The show’s creators have said it’s not against religion per se, it’s against hypocrites. Even with the first season, I felt that and found appreciation (frankly, joy) for what was satirized. Here was a show speaking up, exaggerating, and lampooning the facets of Protestant American Christian culture I’ve vented about in confidence to relevant friends and family - without, like many modern shows which tackle this subject do, mocking followers themselves, faith itself, and suggesting to viewers one way of life is better than another, one group of people is (ex: intellectually) superior to another.

Some people have stepped away from Moral Orel and said, “This show comforted me when I left church,” or outright, “This show taught me there is no god.” And that’s not an unfair way to interact with Moral Orel because it doesn’t preach what you “should” do there (a sign of mature writing, really). I stepped away from Moral Orel and said, “This show comforted me in the areas I get frustrated,” which assuages my feelings and makes me more confident in my faith and place within culture.

I feel awkward in contemporary culture because I was raised with minimal secular exposure - daughter of a worship pastor, student at a private Christian school until high school. Meanwhile, in adulthood, I didn't attended church functions for over a dozen years. My group of friends have largely been non-Christians who hold negative opinions about the religion and don’t live remotely similar lifestyles to what I was raised with. I love what I've learned from them. Unfortunately, this also means the cultural building blocks that make me who I am seem shared by no one I'm around, which, even though I'm in my 30s, remains disorienting.

On the flipside, I'm the weirdo with the third eye in Christian spaces, too. I’m an ever-thirsty knowledge-seeker who strives to comprehend forbidden topics from all angles. I spent my twenties researching, questioning, rebuilding knowledge, and critically analyzing everything about the Bible. Church attendees and services feel painfully artificial, with mental blockers to topics I feel are critical to understand.

In either community I partake in, I feel “off.”

I’m grateful to have been raised by parents who didn’t pussyfoot around issues, with a father who deep-dives research. Discussions, delving, and digging into the hard stuff has always been fostered. My family spoke to pastors when we disagreed with their theology. I grew up around people who practiced passive acceptance, but my family was not that.

In the last year, I’ve returned more strongly to my faith and have been reintegrating with the Christian community. In some areas, my faith has grown and, humbly, I’ve learned much from peers. Despite stereotypes, I want to note that, in certain fields, the church community has always been deep and meticulous! And there are so many beautiful and uplifting areas in the church. But likewise there are those areas that get assumed, aren’t questioned, and aren’t… responded to well by questioning spirits. There have always been areas in the church culture I find disingenuous, foolish, illogical, limited, oversimplified, denialistic, or susceptible to hypocrisy and immorality. I’m not better than any person on this planet, but I’m rubbing shoulders with a community that has different blinders than I do, who don’t even consider asking the types of questions or seeking out the information I find necessary for a solidified faith.

Moral Orel disparages the toxic elements of Protestant culture, the misinterpretations, the artificial facades, the mindless assumptions, the poorly-hidden underbelly, all the areas Christian community can and does go wrong. It makes me feel justified feeling awkward in two worlds: someone for whom Christianity is deeply important, but someone whose mindset doesn’t jive with the rest of the town. Someone who can find and wants to find the best lessons outside of Christianity. Someone who believes in questioning, rethinking constantly, raising her eyebrows at common notions within church culture, and striving for the actual love, sincerity, dedication, and goodness our faith should be based on.

#Moral Orel #Christianity #religion #non-dragons #sad thing is this is the shortened version of my uh essay -_-#I suck at short so here's long!#I don't need to give MY LIFE STORY #or every grievance I have in church or my philosophy on what a Christian Should Know knowledge-wise #but yeah #instead of flinching at the hardest topics I believe in bludgeoning into them full force #aka #data and logic are made by God therefore #if God is true #I should be able to dive as deeply as I can into logic and come out the other side #faith isn't the same as data and I think Western culture gets that balance hella wrong #but faith isn't contradictory or trumped by it #anyway tags are getting off-topic #tldr love that Moral Orel is something that I can connect to #btw #there are so many beautiful beautiful things about the church which is why I love to be there #but of course there are those well-known elements that make me facepalm and I'm just talking about those #don't mean to portray the church incorrectly here either

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jewishcissiekj · 24 days

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working on the Asajj recommendations again

#daily asajj thought of the day #it won't take me long to see if i'm adding some canon short stories and do the legends section #but then i still need to start and finish brotherhood to see if it goes on the list too #kindly ignore the grammarly lines my spelling is really that bad #in any case i'll probably be done with the recs by the end of the week? hopefully #btw rn the recs are dooku jedi lost two comic issue and one short comic story #but that's just canon #for legends i'll probably put the cestus deception and/or dark rendezvous #and my fav comic issues

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stpansy · 7 days

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pansy do u have a vid of the headfirst slide choreo for science

you know i got that thing on me. actually a couple of them. this one is probably the worst of it, he's just writhing around in heat. he also intros this with a speech that goes “you’re not who loves you, you’re who you love” which is. a lot. considering the song they’re about to play AND how that later gets modified to “you are what you love not who loves you” in srar.

he also used to uh. get on his knees and rub his face on patrick lol but i can’t find vid of that rn for some reason. here’s a gifset and i’ll look again when i get back home.

there's also this, which is tame physically, but it has the infamous "this song in particular is about when you first open the door and you see that stranger and either it’s their eyes or maybe it’s their voice and you know you will follow them all the way across the world, possibly all the way across the stage, anywhere they go. for their head, and for their heart, but most importantly for that that tingle—come on, come back to me, i’m out of room, i’m out of room, come back to me—most importantly, for the tingle in that crotch" speech. which makes me wanna die. also the title is fucking hilarious. like ok yeah fair

#long story short patrick would put his eye out w that thing if he did this in 2024 #btw let me know if anybody finds the video that gif comes from plz!#sorry for dumping on you btw i know WAYYY TOO MUCH about this gayass band #answered

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alloru · 9 months

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have some oc art in-between the attacks and such!

in case you haven't seen them before - this is Taivas, celebrity darling and agent of chaos in a story I'm working on! they're incredibly impulsive and out of touch with what is considered "normal", but in the end their goals are relatively virtuous :D

they're capable of some very advanced illusion magic, so I tried to think of what that would look like in an artsy sense. I eventually ended up with this, which I think fits their personality really well!

they're my favourite oc at the moment, which some of you may have noticed while looking at my artfight reference sheets (if you can even call the others that lol). I'm more than happy with the others getting some love however, since I already draw Taivas enough ^v^

#oc #original character #digital art #artwork #my art #fantasy oc #character art #drawing #bright colours #eye strain #maybe?#alloru's story #taivas rell #I've kept some spoilery stuff out of their short description #let me know if this needs any content warnings for photosensitive people btw #I've been looking at this for too long so I can't tell

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whumble-beeee · 18 days

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What's In a Name?

The (Un)Official Guide to Hero-Keeping | Cont'd from Part 8

Content: mentioned past attempted noncon, hysterical whumpee/nervous breakdown (seriously yall, it gets bad), disabled whumpee, trans whumpee, tied up/handcuffs, noncon unshirtening, past captivity references

* * * * * * * *

Excerpt from: The (Un)Official Guide to Hero-Keeping; a self-help guide for villains and bounty-hunters

[While following this guide, as well as generally while playing the wonderful game that is villainy, you will find that the advice can rarely be fitted to every specific scenario. But one piece of advice is universal: If you value your freedom, your loved ones, and your life, you must never reveal your secret identity to your captured hero. As soon as you do, there is no more facade. Villainy is no longer a game. It is your life. And heroes will not hesitate to destroy your life if it means they can win the game.

If a hero (or ANY untrusted party) ever happens upon your secret identity, it is your responsibility, as a villain and as a human being, to accept the end of your life as you know it…

Or to ensure that the hero can never tell another living soul.]

* * * * * * * *

“See you soon?” Deeby repeated Sweater-vest’s last words incredulously. “See you soon?! Christ, and you know he knows– god, he just needs to stop being such un pendejo and shut the hell up, stop making everything about his goddamn god complex and shoving it en las caras de todos–”

The sudden anger from the usually cool and smug Deeby did not help the apparent panic attack seeping ever so quickly into Stan’s consciousness, especially with said seething bounty hunter circling around the room like an angry shark as he muttered to himself and gesticulated wildly.

Stan cowered to hide his shirtlessness from said angry shark. His chest and limbs started to buzz from all the excess oxygen entering his system as he took in heavy breaths, his head spinning, dizzy, hurting, every muscle clenching.

“--y quién se cree ese cabrón para venir a joderme MI TRABAJO?”

He was so angry. So loud, talking so fast, and what the hell was he even saying?! It was too much, too much.

“Y la puta Lana no puede ni aparecer para decirme que me está jodiendo la vida OTRA VEZ porque es lo único que le encanta hacer, joderme TODO lo que–”

Stop it stop it stay calm stay calm please not now please please please not now you can’t show weakness like this in front of your kidnapper you can’t stop it STOP IT–

He took in an involuntary loud heaving breath. Then fell into a stuttering slew of smaller breaths as he tried to keep quiet, and Deeby finally took notice of the state of his captive.

Stan squeaked and pulled the jacket around himself tighter. He was small, he was silent, he was invisible.

Then he gasped in another desperate heaving breath with an involuntary cry of panic when he suddenly ran out of air. He’d stopped breathing entirely with all his efforts.

“Stan? Qué es–... Ah, you good?”

Stan nodded quickly, shaking. “F-fine, fine.”

Deeby raised an eyebrow at him. “Don’t lie to me. What is this, you having a panic attack?”

He couldn’t get his eyes to focus, but he shook his head fervently. Then reeled as it made the dizziness and headache so much worse.

“Stan, talk to me, chiquito. If he actually did something to you, tell me. I need a good reason to kill him, you’d be helping me out a lot.”

He didn't actually even hurt me, did he?

“No–! I-I u-uh-uh yes-s-s, but– but–”

I don't WANT to ‘help you out’! I don't want to talk about it! ESPECIALLY not with you.

He let out a whine and failed to swallow the giant knot forming in his throat.

“Alright, is this about the shirt then? Or the uh, the chest thing? Is that why you went from colonizer white to ghost white when you thought I was gonna make you strip earlier?” He walked over to the tattered shirt and scooped it up. “Because if that's what got you, I can assure you I don’t give a single crap what you’ve–... got in your...”

Deeby trailed off as he held up the grey strips of fabric that used to be Stan's button-down.

And just stared.

Stan gawked at the unrecognizable shredded fabric hanging in the bounty hunter's hands. His breath caught in his throat. He hadn't realized how utterly destroyed his beloved shirt was. What was he supposed to wear now?

“That… Motherfucker…” Deeby muttered, almost as as aghast as Stan. “Christ, I knew he'd pull some grade-A bullshit, but this–”

“Y-you KNEW?!” Stan gasped out, surprising himself with the volume of his outburst. “You– You knew he was gonna– gonna try to...”

Deeby didn't look up from the tatters in his hands. “Yeah. He's predictable, if nothing else.”

Stan's entire body felt like it was full of angry bees. “You–... You left me-e alone with ‘im. On pu-urpose.”

“And everything turned out fine, you're fine. Look runt, we need to have a little talk about what–”

“NO!” Stan cried, ignoring the drop in his stomach when Deeby's eyes took on a slight challenging glint at the interruption. “No, don’t change the subject! You left me alone with him! You knew he was gonna try to– to rape me and you left me alone with him! Handcuffed, chained to the floor, powerless, immobile, beat up to hell and– a-and unable to defend myself and you-you left me alone with him!”

The floodgates were opening. The stifling sense of justice suffocating Stan from the inside out wouldn’t let the injustices go unsaid any longer, crashing through his body and just about ready to make him burst. Ironic, given the everything.

Deeby’s jaw set. “Stan. I wouldn’t have left that shit-for-brains alone with anyone if I didn’t have to.”

“Oh, but you– you had to?” Stan taunted, hoping the sarcasm came through in his voice even with the stuttering and heaving breaths. “What, Dee-deeby the great bounty hunter actually answers to someone? Enough to put the uh, the bounty in danger? Or are you just scared of him, wanted to get away?!”

Deeby snorted.

“Hell yeah, I'll do whatever if the buyer asks it,” he proclaimed. "And I'm not scared of that human cringe-fail. The day I'm scared of him is the day I'm dragged away screaming and turned into… well, you, basically. But I mean, that's when he's actually dangerous…"

He seemed to think on it for a moment. Then crouched down in front of Stan, smug grin replaced with something like the look a friend gives when they think you're about to ruin your life with a single dumb decision.

“Honesty, bud… I wouldn't be so tough around a guy like that if I were a guy like you. Best to just fuel his ego.”

Stan physically recoiled. “Don't tell me what–! Who-wh–…”

That insult sounded way too genuine. Since when was the mercenary genuine?

“Wait, wait, you'd…” Stan shook his head, trying to untangle his thoughts from the spaghetti of his mind. This concussion was killing him. He could barely think. “If you were… Who even was th-that?”

Another chuckle. “What, Tweedy? That was Vaughn. He said that earlier, though I applaud your ability to block him out. Wish I could do that.”

Then again, the hunter was most likely just trying to psych him out. Get him to behave again. Stan wouldn't fall for something like that.

“No, idiot, I mean–... I meant who is he? Why is he going to-to see me soon?… And– and for that matter, are you working together? Because it seems like you hate each other.”

Deeby let out a huff of air. “Look, bud, we need to talk about that phone call I had to take, the boss–”

“You're avoiding the question.”

“Well frankly, there's more important things to talk about,” Deeby dismissed quickly. “So I was talking with the boss-lady on the phone while you were–”

“I don’t care about what that Lana person has to say!” Stan said, slamming his hands on the floor for effect, a breath-stealing pang running through his ribs at the jostling. “Jus– Just tell me who you guys are, tell me why I’m here, tell me why I should be scared of ‘a guy like that’! Who ARE you?!”

Deeby narrowed his eyes slightly. “We need to talk about what's going to happen to you next. And you're gonna listen to that. Not yell demands at me like some asshole 6-year-old, because you already know I don't deal with all that ‘who am I, secret identity’ crap, so you're not getting those answers.”

Well actually, judging by the horrible sticky weight that slammed Stan in the gut when Deeby said that, he didn't want to know what horrors awaited him next. So next best thing? Keep being an asshole 6-year-old.

“Why?”

“Anonymity is the most valuable tool you can have in this game.” Deeby recited it like a script, exaggerating a monotone boredom. “Also I'm not an idiot, it's protocol that's saved me before, it helps me do my job without getting invested… take your pick.”

“You're not even wearing your mask any more!” Stan cried. “So much for secret identity!”

“I think what you're meaning to say is ‘thank you for rushing to save my damsel-in-distress ass from some twink with scissors when you heard me screaming for help even though you were dealing with a really important phone call from the worst person ever’. And you're very welcome. Now we need to talk about what I found out in that dumbass phone call and what it means for you.”

He always had an answer for everything, huh? Always another quip.

Stan's blood started to boil, and he may have actually, genuinely growled a little.

“S-so-so so what, you are scared of her, then? You're scared of her and that's why you left me with that monster?!” He tried, spitting back as much smug asshole-ness as Deeby had been throwing at him. “Is that why you hate them, you’re just their damn lackey doing whatever they tell you to do?! Just a puppet for them to guide around, running around capturing supers and serving them up on a silver platter like a good little servant?!”

Deeby stared at him, genuinely stunned by the sudden venom in the captive's words. His fists clenched by his side.

Hm. Stan may have gone too far.

“Look, McKellen,” Deeby spat as he took an authoritative step forward, voice slow, low and dark. “There are things at play here that you can’t know about–”

“Why not?!” Stan felt like he was losing it, voice creaky and high and hoarse. “Obviously I’m gonna be trapped here with you assholes for the rest of my short life until you kill me with some new form of torture experiment bullshit! Why not tell me everything?! Why not do whatever you want with me?! Just tell me! Please!!”

Stan glared desperately at the bounty hunter. He knew he wasn’t even just crossing the line at this point; he was sprinting over the line and stomping on it repeatedly in a panic-fueled frenzy, kicking at it and letting out his full fury as if the line itself had done this to him, as if absolutely decimating the line would somehow fix everything.

Way deep down, almost too far down to admit to himself, he almost hoped the mercenary would see through the insults and the fighting to see the pleading, hurt, scared man underneath. And then take pity. Just let him have this one thing, before he broke entirely.

But the bounty hunter glared right back at him.

“No.” He stated venomously. “Right now, you're going to shut up. And listen.”

As if Stan would ever listen to the orders of his kidnapper. Of a villain.

A small laugh, just a little chuckle, took root his chest. A disbelieving smile cracked across his face.

The absence of the signature unbothered grin, the absence of the mask, the deathly seriousness? Not to mention the gun, the knives, the chains, the handcuffs, the power suppressing collar, no cane or crutch or any viable mobility aid in sight, and beaten so hard multiple times that he probably couldn't run properly anyway even if he did have a knee that actually worked…

This really was hopeless, wasn't it?

He could rage against the dying of the light all he wanted. Scream and shout and cry and fight and say witty things to hide the excruciating, never-ending pain.

But the light would still die all the same.

He clutched Deeby's very own stupid cowboy-ass jacket around his shoulders. He couldn't even defend himself from getting his shirt ripped to shreds right off his body!

And this bitch–

“You– you don't think…” he had to pause to let out a barrage of inappropriate giggles, then shoved up shakily to his feet, back braced against the wall. “You don't still think I'm gonna– that, that I'm gonna escape, do you?!”

Deeby gave pause, eyeing Stan up and down. Really thinking about it. He took a deep breath. A low grumble emanated from the base of his throat.

“No. I don't.”

Stan laughed out again, full force this time. Desperate. Tearful.

“Then just–... just TELL ME!! IT DOESN'T MATTER!! IT DOESN'T!! IT'LL DIE WITH ME!!”

The mercenary's mouth pressed into a thin line. Was that confusion etched into his features? Or worry? Maybe anger…

“It does matter,” He growled through gritted teeth. “It's probably the most important thing you could know, who I am. Who we are.”

Stan let out a loud cry of anguish, screeching out every single frustration at the unfairness of the world, at this situation, at Deeby and Vaughn and whoever Lana was, at the collar and the chains and the cut and bruises and broken bones and his broken, useless knee into a single, guttural sound.

“WHY WON'T YOU TELL ME ANYTIN-GAH-AH!!”

Very, very suddenly, the lapels of Deeby's loosely draped jacket tightened around his body and slammed him back into the wall, the fleece-lined collar of the jacket twisting and pulling on the power-suppressing strap clamped around his neck, contracting it, choking him just as the slam forced all the breath out of his lungs.

Stan clawed back against the force, only managing to grasp at Deeby’s forearms uselessly as they twisted the jacket ever tighter around him. Pinning his arms. Trapping him. He had to heave in and out gasping breaths just to get enough air to breath through his half obstructed airways.

“Look at me, chiquito,” the bounty hunter snarled. “Look me in the eye!”

Stan's panicked eyes paused their sporadic dance around the room. They locked dead onto the mercenary's fiery gaze.

“Did you break your damn brain in the 3 minutes I was gone?” Deeby hissed into his ear. Stan almost screeched in terror. “I don't know what sort of fuckery your mind has been conjuring up that you can't get this very simple concept without going insane,” he jolted Stan and dragged out an involuntary whimper from his throat.

“But whatever it is, shut it down. Now. I'm gonna tell you the bare minimum of what you need to know, and you're gonna sit there and listen or else I won't tell you jack shit and knock you unconscious so I don't have to deal with your bullshit. Agreed?!”

“I– Ah, a-ah, I– No, I- I, no-no no No-o–”

He couldn't get his thoughts to line up properly. They swarmed around his head like locusts in a dust bowl, bouncing into each other, frenzied, an indecipherable cloud of fear and frustration that his horrible attempt at defiance, futile as it may have been, always just made everything worse.

He could never stop himself.

Angry tears rimmed at Stan's eyes. His body hurt. His brain pounded in his skull. His ribs cried out in protest as they pressed into the wall. The various bruises and their dull, throbbing aches, the cuts and bleeding wounds and their sharp, searing screeches, the sticky and caked on dried blood, so familiar now it was almost a second skin, Deeby's weight pinning him to the wall, so similar and yet so different to the way Vaughn had done the same.

No. No, no, no, no.

He squeezed his eyes shut, tears finally falling in hot, fat drops down his cheeks. The bounty hunter was so close, too close. Stan tried to pull away, and he just leaned on him harder, their faces barely inches apart.

“Agreed, chiquito?” The voice rumbled through his entire body, sending shivers up and down his spine.

No no no no no no no he needed to get away, get away now, please please that's all he needed he couldn't get away he couldn't even move his arms he could barely breathe–

“WHY DON'T YOU JUST RAPE ME ALREADY?!” Stan screamed into the endless cacophonous void.

And silence.

And the entire world went still.

Deeby’s mouth fell literally agape.

His grip on Stan loosened considerably. Not out of pity or any other considerate emotion. Just shock.

At least Stan could finally breathe again. Not that he took a single breath in the silence.

“I–...” Deeby finally choked out. “I-I beg you finest fucking what?!”

“Just fucking do it,” Stan hissed, gasping. “We both know you could. I couldn't even stop Vaughn, you think I could stop you?!”

The words spewed out of his mouth faster than he could stop them, like a volcano that had finally exploded its top off in a fiery glory. And the way Deeby looked at him, as if his features were having an all out war over shock, horror, or honestly very justified anger? Oh, that did nothing but fan the flames of Stan's sorrow-filed hysteria.

“Tall ass muscle-bound freak with an actual gun that captured me and beat me up again and again then left me to die?! I don't even know who you are! You can do whatever you want and I can't do jack shit to stop you! Just do it, hurt me, rape me, it doesn't matter! Vaughn knew that, you can too!” Stan attempted to shove the bounty hunter off, but he still didn't move.

“Please, please, I'm begging you, is that what you want?! I'll get on my knees!”

Stan collapsed against Deeby's hold, and to his surprise, Deeby finally let him. Well, not ‘let him,’ more like ‘recoiled and jumped back when he felt Stan collapsing in his grasp'.

All the same.

“Chiquito,” Deeby rasped. “I'm– not exactly sure what or why you're demanding, but I'm not going to–”

“Why not?! It doesn't matter!” Stan assured, holding his arms out to fully present himself now, shedding the jacket onto the floor behind him and taking a daring scoot forward. “I bet you just kicked Vaughn out because you wanted me all to yourself! I bet you just love seeing me scared and helpless and half naked in your stupid fucking yee-yee jacket–”

“Alright, Stan, enough!”

“AT LEAST VAUGHN had the decency to not pretend like he was a decent fucking person like you!” Stan yelled. “We both know you're not above it, fucking professional kidnapper and torturer! So just do it! Like Vaughn wanted to, like he tried to! Finish what he started, you have me all to yourself now! DO IT! DO IT I DARE–”

“The name's Declan.”

The statement was a whisper in the storm. Stan almost missed it. But the resolute certainty of the southern twang stopped him dead in his tracks.

“What–… What did you just–?”

It was astounding how quickly his voice had turned meek from the cacophony of chaos mere seconds before. Dark freckles stood out against an even starker white face than usual.

“It's Declan,” the mercenary stated once more. “My name. My name’s Declan. You wanted t’know who we are, who I am? Fine then, I'm Declan. Want the last name too?”

“I– wait–!”

“It's Cansano. Declan Cansano.”

Stan was shaking, a million thoughts crashing down upon him like a tidal wave. If he weren't already on his knees, surely he would have collapsed.

He hadn't actually… meant any of that. No. Had he? No. He couldn't have. He didn't want to know who the mercenary was. No, he didn't. He didn't, not really! He would never want that! Never!

“That’s not… Wh-why would you…?”

The bounty hunter shrugged. “You wanted to know who I am. You asked, you screamed, you insulted me and you went fuckin’ nuts over it.” His thunder-filled eyes betrayed his completely relaxed demeanor. “Declan Cansano. Don't forget‘t.”

“I just– That's not what– Wait, Deeby, you– Where are you going?!”

Deeby was already halfway to the door when he swiftly spun around, fists clenched and any trace of the easy demeanor vanished in those bright blood-stained eyes.

“I can't fuckin’ deal with you right now!”

Stan nearly launched himself back in fear, right back onto Deeby's stupid, soft jacket. He grasped it up as a barrier between him and the mercenary without even thinking. The mercenary's demeanor relaxed from absolutely terrifying to merely extremely angry at the sorry sight.

“I'm leaving for a bit.” He whipped around and grasped for the lapels of his jacket to yank it on, only for his grasp to come up empty. He whipped around a third time. “And I'll be expectin’ my coat back when I get back! You better've calmed the hell down by then, if you know what’s good for you.”

Wait, wait, he was leaving? No!

Stan tried to scramble after Deeby, but immediately fell to the agony of his knee and the length of his leash.

“Don't go, please!” he pleaded.

Deeby didn’t stop. “Why?”

What if you come back with more torture tools?

What if you don't come back at all?

I still have more questions for you.

You can't just leave me here, I'm hurt!

I shouldn't be alone right now. I can't. I'm scared of what will happen, I'm going insane.

Even you are better than no one at all.

“What– what if Vaughn comes back?!”

Deeby scoffed. “I'm not going that far, damn. Eat some protein bars while I'm gone so you don't die, should help with the insanity. Back soon.”

And the door to the room closed shut behind him, the click echoing off the walls in the sudden unbearable silence.

Stan collapsed to the floor, defeated.

He clutched the jacket closer.

Pulled it tight around his shoulders, fingernails leaving small crescent-shaped indents on the well-worn hide. The cotton lining was so surprisingly soft against his skin. Hell, he could smell the dirt and musk that permeated the jacket from years of use, the smal signs that this jacket had seen the capture of dozens of supers.

Declan.

Declan Cansano.

Professional Superhero-Hunter.

Stan screamed into the endless abyss around him.

And this time, Declan didn’t come back to save him.

* * * * * * * *

Next (when posted)