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from-the-clouds · 1 year

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texas sun - joel miller x f!reader - vol. xi

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chapter summary: I'm not even gonna be poetic about this: Joel and reader lie to themselves and others about their feelings for 5.6k words. pairing: joel miller x f!reader words: 5.6k chapter warnings: ANGST. Description of panic attacks/anxiety. Referenced death of family members/romantic partners. Implied bisexual reader. Alcohol consumption, hangovers. smoking. Canon-typical suffering. As always please dm if you have questions. a/n: Wanted to give game Joel a little love with the gif choice, ya feel me? I've been excited to write this chapter for months and I ultimately feel like it flopped so hard, it just did not come together the way I envisioned. It's also my last week of work for awhile I'm honestly feeling very burnt out so I'm in a 'fuck it, i don't have the energy to make it perfect' mood, BUT - It’s a lot of backstory/development that I do think is necessary. Next chapter shit will go down tho so get ready.

**ALSO! I got rid of my taglist. Please follow @ftcwriting and turn on notifs if you would like to be notified when I update my works :) **

-April 10, 2024-

Joel reaches out to clutch the patio railing. His chest is tight, like someone’s stitched his ribs together so they won’t expand fully every time he tries to inhale. Each breath wheezes in and out of him, and his head spins.

None of this feels real. It can’t be real. And if he’s asleep, he can’t decide if he’s in a dream or a nightmare.

That’s until he hears his name.

“Joel!”

Her voice is like a jolt of electricity, shocking his body back into equilibrium. He finds Ellie standing behind him when he looks over his shoulder, Tommy walking up the pathway to the front door, brow furrowed.

“We literally only got here like one week ago, you can’t die already,” Ellie scolds him, and he knows that the jab is meant to be playful. “Woah, are you okay?” she asks when they lock eyes.

Joel straightens, squaring up with Tommy, fully prepared to give him a piece of his mind, for throwing him into the deep end with nothing to stay afloat.

“Who was that?” Ellie is completely oblivious.

Even if he wanted to answer the question, he still probably couldn’t. It had taken him a moment to even recognize who you were, that’s how long it’s been. And he hadn’t even really gotten a good look. It only clicked when you’d taken off your glasses, and when it’d registered, and then he’d seen the kid next to you, he’d panicked. Joel brushes past Ellie, shoving his brother with one hand in the center of his chest.

“What the hell were you thinking?”

Tommy recoils at the contact, something pained and confused crossing his expression. “I…. I thought you’d be happy to see that she’s still alive.”

Joel doesn’t answer, just glowers at him. He’s still unable to make sense of the questions swirling around in his mind, each one seemingly more important than the last.

Of course it’s good that you're alive. At one point, he had tried to find you. It was after Sarah, after he’d tried to- he can’t even think about how foolish that had been. At the time, the thought of seeing you again was the only thing that provided him with even the slightest bit of hope for the future. But the search had been fruitless.

After a while, Joel decided that you were dead. It didn’t matter whether or not you were. He’d seen the unspeakable pain humans were capable of inflicting on each other and then when he’d gotten involved with some hunters, became the cause of all that pain. If you were alive…it meant those horrible things were happening to you. You were better off dead.

It also kept his conscience clear. After he’d done what he had done, he knew if he ever saw you again, he wouldn’t even be able to look you in the eyes. And he was right. You knew a version of him that no longer existed.

“Joel,” Ellie interjects. He’d nearly forgotten she was there, still lost in his shock and rage.

“Ellie, go inside,” he quips.

“Can’t I just-”

“Inside. Right now. ” Joel hasn’t used such an aggressive snarl with her since they first left for the Boston QZ, and he turns to look at her just in time to see her face crumple, before she turns and marches up the stairs. He immediately feels bad, but unfortunately, this is just how things go with every person he cares about these days. He hurts them, then they hurt him, and it equals out, only ending when one of them decides to leave.

“Jesus, Joel,” Tommy scolds, but he doesn’t care.

“How long?”

“What?”

“How long have you known she’s alive? That she has a fuckin’.....” Joel feels something get caught in his throat. “...a fuckin’ kid.”

“That’s her nephew,” Tommy says matter-of-factly, as if it was supposed to be obvious. As if Joel wasn’t just grappling with the idea that he had a twenty year old son he’d never known about, and feeling guilty that you’d been alone with him this whole time. “But I guess I can see where you’d think that.”

Now that you’re on Joel’s mind, he does recall you mentioning your nephew a few times. Maybe you even had a picture of him hanging on your fridge, and he had pegged how you had the same smile. He’s a little embarrassed for jumping to conclusions, but it doesn’t mean he’s done being angry.

“Shit,” Tommy rubs his beard. “They’ve been here for like three years. It’s been awhile.”

“Three years?” Joel asks, a whole new wave of anger reappearing. “And you didn’t think to fuckin’ tell me all this time?”

“You know the rules. We aren’t allowed to use the radio.”

“What about when I was here in the winter?” Joel asks stiffly.

“I just…figured it’d be a shock-

“And why would you think that, Tommy?” Joel raises his voice.

Tommy holds out his hands, lowering them slightly as if to tell Joel to settle down. Then he nods towards the house. Ellie. “You had a lot going on with that whole situation. I didn’t want to distract you.”

Joel would never admit it, but that was probably a smart decision for Tommy to make. He remembers how uncertain and scared he’d been when he first stopped in Jackson. But Joel still tries to think of a way to keep the argument going, because he doesn’t want to give Tommy any sort of props for how he’s chosen to break this news to him.

“I thought you’d be happy she’s alive, really, I mean you both-”

Joel holds up his hand. “Enough, Tommy. It was so long ago…I barely remember.”

Tommy frowns, gives him a knowing look. “Really?”

Joel sniffs, crosses his arms.

“Well, I remember,” Tommy says. “And she was always good to you.”

Joel doesn’t answer, because he doesn’t have anything else to say, and at this point, he just wants Tommy to leave.

“Work through whatever you have to,” Tommy says. “But don’t be an asshole. You should work on that, in general. Or else I’ll have to keep explaining your behavior.”

“Glad I’ve got you looking out for me,” Joel says dryly. “Don’t know what I would do without you.”

“Fine.” Tommy shakes his head, backs away.

His brother doesn’t say goodbye as he stuffs his hands in his coat pocket and walks down the street. Joel stays in place, alone on the front porch, until his hands relax from the fists they are clenched in and his anger turns to shame.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

-April 19, 2024-

You close the locket and place it back inside the old lunch pail full of tchotchkes and other memorabilia. It’s a fairly empty box, over the years you’ve found that the things you hold onto are either lost or left behind, not unlike the people you’ve met. You swipe away the tears in your eyes.

Bea had always said it was important to give yourself the space to grieve, to let yourself feel whatever it was that you needed to. It’s advice that you don’t want to take from her right now because you’re pissed at her for being gone. Not that it had been her fault. And also because you know if you don’t stick to a routine it’s very easy to backslide.

In the bathroom, you hurry to splash cold water on your face, taking a look at yourself in the mirror. Before the outbreak, there was nothing more terrifying than getting old. Now, as you study the new lines and wrinkles on your face, the scar on your bottom lip, the gray strands in your hair, it doesn’t scare you at all. It seemed frivolous that looks were something you’d been so concerned about when you were younger. But you suppose you didn’t have much else to worry about. There was something pretty freeing about being older, that you can be content without being concerned about whether or not someone will find you attractive. And really, getting old means you’re still alive. That’s all that matters.

You are concerned with the red in the whites of your eyes, but hope they’ll fade by the time you get to Maria’s.

Grappling with the fact that Joel is still alive has dredged up a lot. Since it had been about a week since your reunion – if you could even call it that – on your front porch, and you’d seen him one other time. The first time, you’d sort of understood why he’d ran off. But you guessed you kind of expected him to come around eventually. He didn’t.

Just a few days earlier you’d been walking through the town square, and he’d been headed your direction with that teenage girl who Tommy has since told you is named Ellie. She was giggling at something, and Joel even had a slight smile on his face, but when he saw you, it disappeared, and he pulled Ellie to the opposite side of the street. It was clear now that he was intentionally trying to avoid you, which….didn’t feel great.

That was an understatement. Having Joel back made you realize just how lonely you were. It had taken some time after arriving in Jackson for you to grieve your partner of nearly ten years, so it hadn’t really dawned on you that at some point you might crave a deeper level of intimacy that your friendships couldn’t offer. But you had already had it twice, so you supposed that was better than nothing at all. Plus, your number one priority had been, and always would be making sure Ethan was provided for.

So what exactly were you expecting from Joel? Not that, of course. But maybe some kind of closure after all those years spent apart. Some kind of acknowledgement of your time spent together.

When the outbreak first happened, you had spent a lot of time being angry. With Joel and Sarah, the possibility of being normal had been dangled in front of you. You realized you had wanted to be loved after being convinced by your father – and yourself – that you didn’t deserve it. Then, the second you acknowledged that you wanted it anyways, the world had literally ended. It was a little egocentric, but it sort of felt like a sign that your dad had been right all along. Some women aren’t meant to be part of a family.

Of course, Bea had proved that wrong. But losing the people you loved became a pattern. And you even to this day, you alternated between believing that it was the unfortunate reality of life, or that it was your destiny to never get what you wanted.

Regardless, even if the way Joel is acting has caused you more turmoil than you are willing to admit, you’re not going to follow him around and beg to get back into his good graces. That’s never been your style.

You’re tidying up the kitchen, getting ready to leave, when Ethan shuffles into the room. It’s nearly noon.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” you say to him as drags his socked feet across the hardwood.

He grumbles his greeting and tilts his head at the bag you’re adjusting over your shoulder, as if to ask where you’re headed.

“I’m going to Maria’s,” you say. “Then I have to meet with Eugene.”

He makes a noise of affirmation, still half-asleep, and slumps into a kitchen chair. When you look at him closely, you see the dark circles beneath his glassy eyes, his face pale.

“You alright, honey?” you ask, putting your bag back on the countertop and approaching him. “Do you have a fever?” when you reach to press the back of your hand to his cheek he swats it away weakly. He doesn’t feel warm.

“I’m fine,” he says, crossing his arms on the countertop and burying his face in them. “I just have a headache.”

“Yeah?” you say. “You were out late last night.”

“Derek and I went to the Tipsy Bison,” his voice is muffled.

Everything clicks into place. “Oh. Were you overserved?”

He turns his head, but doesn’t lift it. With how long his hair has gotten, most of his face is obscured. “Maybe. But before I get a lecture, don’t worry – I’m never drinking again.”

“I’m not gonna lecture you,” you’re almost offended. “Is this really your first hangover?”

“I mean….probably not. But it’s definitely the worst.”

“Well now you know your limits,” you say, crossing the room to pour him a glass of water and get some ibuprofen from the long-expired bottle you keep in a cabinet.

“Maybe if we were allowed to drink when we were with Bea, I would’ve learned that sooner.”

You let Ethan’s get his dig in at the last community you’d lived with before Jackson. The more time you’d spent here, the more time he’d had to convince himself that what you’d gotten yourselves into was terrible. Because you had more of a complex perspective on it, it was the one subject you avoided speaking to each other about.

Ethan is similar to Vincent in that while he’s very sensitive, he also seems to enjoy being an instigator. Of course, spending all of his life fighting to survive in a world that wants him dead has only intensified that. Bea had been good at helping him manage his temper when he was a teenager and it became too much for you to handle. But besides that, he doesn't get into much trouble, so you aren’t going to chastise him.

“Drink this, and take these.”

He groans, but reaches out for the aspirin and water, nursing it down with small sips. You bite back a smile. The both of you have endured much worse than a hangover, but there’s something cathartic about seeing him experience the plights of a normal twenty-something.

“Are you hungry?”

“If I eat anything, I think I will vomit,” he lays his head back down.

You consider asking him if he wants you to stay so you can look after him, but decide that you don’t want to encourage the habit too much. Instead, you reach out and brush a strand of hair off his cheek so you can see him more clearly, and he closes his eyes. “I bet you’ll feel better in a couple hours. Drink water. It’ll help.”

He blinks up at you, seemingly unconvinced. “I saw that guy yesterday. The weird one.”

“What guy?”

“Tommy’s brother. What’s his name?”

“Joel?” you ask, and pretend that saying his name doesn’t almost make you shiver.

“Yeah,” he says. “He was with Tommy at the stables. Guess they’re making him a ranger.”

“Hm.”

“I know you knew him before or whatever, but he’s definitely a weirdo. And I’m not just saying that to make you feel better.”

The whatever in his sentence is doing a lot of heavy lifting. You roll your eyes, but not maliciously. “Well, he did just get here.” You definitely don’t owe Joel anything, so you surprise yourself by defending him.

Ethan almost ignores your response, winces, turns his head back into his arms and grumbles something to the effect of I’m dying.

“Rest up,” you ruffle his hair and kiss the top of his head, like you’ve been doing since before he could walk, and it’s hard to stop even though sometimes it annoys him. Right now, he doesn’t protest. “I’ll bring you home some soup from the mess hall. Take it easy.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It’s Tommy who lets you in once you arrive at Maria’s. She’s upstairs with the baby, he says, and tells you to wait in the living room, before you hear her frantic voice calling out for him to come help her.

His footsteps retreat up the stairs, and you hover in the entrance to the living room, your eyes inexplicably drawn to the chalkboard with

You glance at the little memorial that Tommy had made for Sarah and Kevin, Maria’s son. Even though you’ve seen it a million times at this point, the sight of her name, the date of her passing – the same day as Joel’s birthday – makes your stomach sink.

That’s when you notice that you’re not alone. Sitting in a chair in the corner is the girl that you’d seen accompanying Joel. You hadn’t actually been properly introduced, you realized, and she’s staring at you like she doesn’t know what to do. She’s a cute kid, a teenager if you had to guess, her dark hair pulled back into a ponytail.

Based on how he’s been acting, you can’t imagine what Joel has told her about you. Probably nothing good. So you give her a nod and a small smile, before crossing your arms and leaning against the doorframe.

Surprisingly, the bit of sincerity seems to warm her up a little. “I’m Ellie,” she says.

You nod again, and give her your first name. “It’s nice to meet you, Ellie. Sorry I didn’t get the chance the other day.”

She shrugs. “It didn’t seem like that was your fault.”

You let your arms drop to your sides, straighten up. “Did you uh…come to see the baby or something?”

Ellie shakes her head no. “I’m waiting for Tommy. He’s gonna take me to see the school.”

“Oh, that’s nice.”

“Not really,” she says. “I think school is fucking stupid. But everyone says I have to go, because all the other kids in town do, too.”

Ethan was grown when you arrived in Jackson, and you didn’t have children of your own, so it was the one place you didn’t really frequent. “Well, you probably should but….I hear you.”

There’s an almost imperceptible smile that crosses her features. You turn your head back to stare at the staircase, waiting for the sound of Maria’s footsteps, but all you can hear is her and Tommy whispering with frantic energy as they try to put their son down for a nap.

“You know Joel won’t tell me anything about you,” Ellie’s voice cuts in, and you turn back towards her. “But you knew him before, didn’t you?”

You’re not sure how to take this information, or…how to respond to it. So you keep your response simple. “I mean, we were neighbors.” But even that feels like a lie, and a useless one to tell. Maybe it’s a little petty, but you don’t owe it to Joel to keep his secrets, especially not after he’s treated you so poorly. So you tell her the truth. “I guess he was also…my boyfriend for a little while.”

Ellie seems taken aback by this. “What happened? Did you break his heart or something?”

“No,” you snort. “We got separated before the outbreak.”

“Oh.” She ponders for a moment. “So then why is he so mad?”

You shrug. “I’ll let you know if I find out.”

“Well, he’s an asshole. But I bet you already know that,” Ellie says.

Based on the time you actually spent with Joel, you would’ve never described him that way. So if that’s really how he’s perceived, even by the people who care about him, it makes you a little sad. Losing Sarah must have changed him more than you could imagine.

You’re already sick of thinking about him so much, so you change the subject to something that’s at least a little lighter. “How did the two of you end up together, anyways?”

“Long story,” she answers, and you get the sense there’s something she’s holding back. Because you just met, you don’t press her any further.

“As I’d imagine.”

You hear boots coming down the stairs, and Tommy rounds the corner, holding a stack of photos. “I’ve been meaning to show these to you, I went home a couple years back…to Joel’s old place and mine. There wasn’t much left, but I found these.”

He passes the pictures to you, and you look down at them. You don’t think much about your old house at all. It was another thing you lost, but almost everyone did, so it didn’t really make you feel special. Still, sometimes you thought of your cozy back patio and your old friend Martini, and had accepted you’d never see them again.

The first photo in the stack is a photo of Joel and Sarah at one of his soccer games. As sweet as the gesture is, you are pretty sure you can only confront so much of your past at once, and with Joel being back in town it’s starting to get suffocating. Also, when you study the picture and realize that your memory has gotten some of Sarah’s features wrong, you’re overwhelmed with guilt.

Hesitantly, you place the pictures down on the coffee table, and Ellie reaches for them immediately, flipping through him. “Woah,” she says. “He looks so different without all the grey hair,” she flips to a photo of him and Tommy, and glances up at him. “You look pretty much the same.”

When you agree with her, Tommy grins, playfully tucking a piece of hair behind his ear bashfully before growing serious. “You better not tell him I showed you these.”

“I won’t,” Ellie assures him.

“Look at this one.” Tommy pushes another photo across the table towards you, and you peer down to look at it. “He fucking adored you.”

You remember taking the picture vividly while on vacation with Joel and Sarah, and at one point you’d had your own copy framed on your dresser. There are flowers peppered in his hair, and you both look so young, and so happy, and so oblivious, his arms around you, his lips pressed against your cheek. At the time, you really had no idea that everything you knew was about to be destroyed.

“Nice,” you say flatly, and in an effort to keep from getting emotional, push it back across the table, and retreat to sit in a chair across the room.

After some time, and some convincing, Tommy and Ellie leave to go on their tour of the school. When the door closes behind them, you swipe the photo from you and Joel off the table and slide it into your back pocket. You tell yourself it’s so Tommy can’t show it to Joel, but really it’s because it’s one of the only memories you have of yourself before the outbreak, when everything felt perfect.

Just as you back away from the pictures, Maria appears at the bottom of the steps. She looks exhausted, and before either of you can speak, you wrap her in a hug. Partly because it looks like she needs it, but also because you just want to feel close to someone you trust, even if it’s only for a few seconds. “How are you holding up?” you ask.

“I finally get some peace and I’m using it to work,” she says, leading you into the dining room, where all the paperwork is spread out. Your plan had been to write a new amendment to the town’s constitution, which then had to be approved by the council.

Maria hadn’t stayed away from her job as the leader of the community for very long after having their son, despite your encouragement for her to take it easy. She had experience with her previous son, Kevin, but you imagined it didn’t make life with a newborn any easier. So you tried to help her out with any chance you got, especially because you knew she’d do the same for you. it was just how things between you worked. She knew even more about you than Tommy did, and you told each other everything. Well, almost everything….

“You should take a nap or something.”

“Don’t tempt me.”

“I’m serious,” you insist. “I can write a draft while you sleep and then you and I can do the revisions together.

She seems reluctant, but after making you swear you’d wake her if the baby starts fussing, she lies down on the couch and you begin working.

Like your old job, you don’t really like doing this. The only job you have in Jackson that actually excites you is the work you do with Eugene, and going on patrol. But this work makes you feel the most useful. And despite the fact that you had always been skeptical of authority – you believed in her ability to keep things in Jackson running smoothly.

About an hour later, you’d drawn up the draft and Maria stirs from her nap. The revisions don’t take very long, since you both are usually on the same page, but when you start packing your things up to go, she seems surprised.

“Are you hanging around until dinner?”

“No, I have to meet up with Eugene,” you say. “Plus, Ethan’s at home hungover so I told him I’d make him soup.

“Do you think he’ll be up for dinner tomorrow night?” she asks. “Tommy keeps pestering me.”

“Well he’s still too young for his hangovers to last two days,” you smirk. “So yeah, I think he will.”

“He invited…..Joel, and Ellie,” Maria says hesitantly, watching your face. “Is that okay?”

“I mean….it’s not my dinner party.”

“You can say no. Or not come,” she offers. She hadn’t been there the day you’d seen Joel again for the first time, but it sounds like Tommy has given her the rundown.

You shrug. As much as you don’t want to admit it, being forced into the same room as Joel is a little exciting. “I’ll go.”

“Are you doing okay with that?” she asks. “I told Tommy not to surprise you, but he didn’t listen.”

“It’s all fine,” you say, which isn’t entirely a lie. At the end of the day, everything would be fine. The stakes weren’t life and death. When Maria seems unconvinced, you continue. “I mean, it feels like he’s being a little rude…but it’s nothing I can’t handle.”

Maria lowers her eyes, pauses. “Has Tommy’s ever told you about any of the stuff Joel got him into when they were on their own?”

“Not really,” you say. “But I know they were on bad terms.”

“I didn’t know you back then,” Maria begins. “So I don’t know what you saw in him, or what he was like. But….I don’t think he’s….I don’t know if it’s worth getting emotionally invested again.”

“Oh, bummer. As you know, reconnecting with an ex is my main priority right now.” you deflect with a smirk, but Maria doesn’t seem as amused.

“Fair,” she says. “But be careful. I saw what he did to his own brother. I don’t want it to happen to you.”

“You don’t have to worry about me,” you assure her. “Whatever he’s done, I’ve dealt with worse.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

-April 20, 2024-

When Joel and Ellie arrive at Tommy’s, it’s clear immediately they aren’t the only people that were invited.

Seeing the life that Tommy had built for himself here – a thriving community, a wife, a son – fills him with a certain level of envy. But mostly….he’s ashamed. Back when they were hunters, Joel was adamant that it was the only way they could survive, despite the horrible things they were doing. The worst part was, Joel really believed it. Now, the nightmares still chasing both of them, he realizes he was wrong. Even if Tommy won’t say it out loud, Joel knows he resents him for those days, how he’d been forced to trade away so much of his humanity. For Joel, violence came easily – shockingly so – an outlet for all his anger after losing Sarah. But Tommy had always struggled. And even though there will always be love between them, the tension was still there.

He’s still adjusting to life in Jackson, only leaving the house when Ellie drags him out, and when Tommy trains him to go out on patrol. It’s hard to accept that he’s not on the run anymore after the chaotic nature of the last year. Only Tommy knows his darkest secret, and he intends to keep it that way.

While Ellie does seem somewhat hesitant to leave him alone, she does seem a lot more enthusiastic about life in Jackson. Joel knows it’s a good thing, and once again, he feels like he’s let her down by not leading by example.

Tommy greets them both once they step inside, and Joel is polite — something he’s been trying to do more of lately. Maria gives him a tight-lipped smile, one that tells him she’s trying to be civil despite her reservations. God only knows what Tommy has told her about their time together. At least he can understand where she’s coming from. Had they met twenty years ago in Austin, they probably would’ve gotten along. Nowadays, he’s not surprised when people don’t like him, because he hates himself, too.

But Maria still entertains them with general pleasantries and questions about how they are settling in, despite looking incredibly flustered. Ellie is more apt to answer them then he is, Joel standing by with his thumbs in his belt loops.

Over their shoulder, Joel sees you, standing in the corner of the front room with your back turned to him, deep in conversation with your nephew. He’s smiling and telling a very animated story, at one point clapping his palms on your shoulders and shaking them violently while you giggle. It makes him think of you and Sarah. Therein lies the problem. He’s become a little more comfortable discussing his past with Ellie, but there’s a limit to what he’s capable of, especially after repressing so much for so long.

The oven goes off, and Maria excuses herself to the kitchen, inviting Ellie to follow along. Joel and Tommy are left standing in the entryway together.

“You invited her?” Joel asks, not bothering to hide the venom in his voice.

Tommy steps back, giving him incredulous once-over. “It’s my house, isn’t it?”

“I don’t know what game you’re trying to-“

Tommy shoves Joel into the dining room before he can finish his thought, out of eyesight from the rest of the people in the house. “I’m not playing games, Joel. She’s family. Maybe not to you, but definitely to Maria and I. And she’s never shown you anything but kindness. So grow the fuck up.”

Before Joel can think of another objection, the sound of a baby crying cuts through the air. Tommy freezes at the sound, until you call out from the other room. “I got him.”

“Come on,” he says. “Maybe you can muster up the courage to hold your nephew.”

He wants to tell Tommy that he’s trying, even if it doesn’t look like it. But it almost feels better to allow himself to be the black sheep. It makes things easier. If he keeps that door closed, he’ll never need to worry about the problems that lie on the other side. Still, he begrudgingly follows his brother in the other room.

When he enters the front room, you’re holding Maria and Tommy’s son in your arms.

After Joel had learned that Ethan was your nephew, he was unsurprisingly relieved. What did surprise him, however, is that some small part of himself was disappointed. Sure, if you actually had his child while you were separated it would have been devastating. But before all this, all he had wanted was a future with you, would’ve gladly given you children….really, anything you wanted.

He tries not to let his eyes linger on you too long, lost in the daydream of what could’ve been, but you meet his eyes and give him such a sterile, polite nod that it’s almost painful.

Dinner is uneventful. Joel ends up seated directly across from you, Tommy’s doing, no doubt, but you do a good enough job of engaging in conversation that you don’t spend much time looking in Joel’s direction, and when you do, he doesn’t recognize your expression. It does give him the chance to study you up close, which he hadn’t done yet, and immediately regrets.

He’s still just as attracted to you as he’d always been. Sure, you’ve aged, but so has he – although you wear it much more gracefully. When Tommy offers to pour some bourbon into Ethan’s glass, he refuses, and for whatever reason, you stifle a laugh, the wrinkles around your eyes more prominent than they used to be.

After dinner, when the plates have been cleared, you disappear. He can feel himself growing overwhelmed, so he steps outside onto the back patio for some air. You’re sitting on a porch step looking out at the yard, but when he steps outside, you turn.

When you register that it’s him, you return your eyes forward again, and Joel remains silent, even considers walking back inside without a word. But he stays there so long, contemplating, that you’re the first to speak up.

“You know, if you stay here….at some point, you are gonna have to acknowledge me.”

Joel knows he’s the antagonist right now. He’s well aware. But he can’t help himself. Despite that, there’s no malice, and no bitterness in your voice. But you are direct.

And, because he’s never been good at refusing you, he gives you something in return. “I guess I’m just surprised to see you here….” He recalls a conversation you’d had long ago, curled against his chest, staring up at the stars together. “Being a city girl and everything.”

You turn to look over your shoulder, gaze making him feel warm, a small smile on your face. For a split second, you’re looking at him how you used to, and then it’s gone. “It is sort of a miracle, isn’t it?”

He ponders this, and you continue.

“It’s good to see you, Joel,” you say softly. He wonders how you can make general pleasantries sound so sweet, and is surprised at how easily you betray yourself with the words. Though he had noticed a pattern at dinner. You weren’t nearly as guarded as you used to be. He wonders how that’s possible, if you’ve made it this far.

“You too.”

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spectersgirl · 2 months

Note

heyyy!! so i just started s5 of suits and (spoiler if you haven’t seen it!!!!) harvey’s panic attacks were introduced after donna left and IM HURTING FOR HIM. but i think that’s such great angst material lol so if you’re still taking requests maybe something with that?

Hiiiii friends!

I know I've been gone for... quite a while... but I'm hoping to start writing more frequently again! I've undergone some massive life changes over the last few months and the stress of that basically caused me to completely burn out creatively. That being said, I have a TONNN of requests in my inbox and a few of them are generally in this same realm, so I will be using all of them for this piece, I hope that's okay with you all <3

The other requests were

"soft harvey just around his girl in a tense moment?!"

"hiii! i love your writing! i was wondering if you could write a fic where harvey had like a bad day at work and he just goes home and collapses onto the reader. like just hugs and softness and cuddles galore!"

I referenced actual events and lines from the show but changed up the context a little bit, obviously.

I appreciate you all for reading my work and liking it enough to request anything from me. I've never had such a positive response to anything I've created before, so this all means the world to me. Truly, thank you :')

Be With You

Harvey Specter x Reader

--------

It was nearly 11pm and you were teetering on sleep, having worked all day and come home to do a much-needed cleaning of your apartment followed by a glass of wine, when your phone loudly pinged on the nightstand. You fumbled for it and turned on the small bedside lamp next to you. You smiled when you saw it was your boyfriend, probably just saying goodnight, you'd assumed.

"Hey, can I come over? Please? I really need to see you right now."

A pit formed in your stomach reading the words on your screen. Though you hadn't been dating Harvey all that long, you'd spent a lot of time together, but he'd never sent a message like that.

"Of course, is everything okay?"

You couldn't help but worry, it was simply in your nature. You stared at the bubbles that indicated he was typing, which seemed to take an eternity.

"Not really, it's been a rough day and I just really need you."

Your heart lurched, Harvey had rough days all the time as a lawyer, but none had caused this response from him. You wondered what could've possibly happened. You got up, going back out into the living room and took a seat on the couch as you lit your electric fireplace with a remote.

"I'm sorry :( come over whenever, I'll unlock the door for you."

You did just that and looked down at the pajamas you'd chosen, just some shorts and a tank top. You decided they were fine enough for Harvey to see you in. You busied yourself with some TV to pass the time until he arrived. He was there in 20 minutes, and you immediately clocked the visible exhaustion on his face as he walked inside.

He dropped his jacket onto the couch without saying a word. You opened your arms for him as he walked to you and wrapped himself around you in a hug that felt like he was clinging to you for dear life. You stroked the hair at the back of his neck as he breathed you in, and you felt that he had been sweating.

"Are you okay? Do you want to talk about it?" You asked hesitantly, still cradled in his strong arms.

He shook his head before pulling back, allowing you to really look at him now. His eyes looked like he'd been crying, and his cheeks were flushed. Your heart plummeted into your stomach.

"Not right now, I just need to be with you." He said, his voice slightly hoarse.

You nodded and sat with him on the couch, laying your head on his chest while you listened to his heartbeat. He absentmindedly stroked your hair while staring into the fireplace, debating on whether he wanted to fully open up about everything that was on his mind.

When he finally spoke, his voice was laced with nerves, and you sat up at full attention.

"I... A while back, right before I met you, Donna had left my desk to go and work for Louis. When that happened, I started having panic attacks. It felt like I couldn't think, couldn't breathe, it just completely took over my entire body until it passed. She came back to work for me, and then I met you, and I think that combination helped me tremendously."

You nodded, listening as he continued.

"I didn't want to tell you about it because I didn't want you to worry or make you think I was weak, and since I stopped having them, I didn't think it was important anymore, but today... I had another one."

"Harvey, I would never think you were weak for being honest about your feelings or your struggles. I'd like to think you'd be understanding and supportive of me if I was going through the same thing."

"Of course I would!" He said definitively.

"Exactly. So, do you want to talk about it? Or do you want to sit some more?"

He sighed and ran his free hand through his hair.

"Donna told me she didn't want to be on my desk anymore, she said she wanted more. I get that, but I just don't know how I'm going to do what I do without her help."

"Did she say what she meant by 'more'?" You asked softly.

"She said she didn't know."

Harvey hung his head slightly, looking down at the floor. You could tell how much this was affecting him, normally he had all the answers and didn't sweat about getting what he wanted, but this time felt different. You knew how much he and Donna had been through for them to get to this point, so it never occurred to you that someday she might want to leave her position. You idly rubbed circles on his back.

"Maybe you can still give her more and keep her at the firm with you?" You suggested, desperately trying to come up with a solution to soothe the pain you knew he was in.

"I'd love that, but ultimately if she wants to go, I have no choice but to let her."

You sighed and laid your head on his shoulder, you yawned and briefly closed your eyes as he placed a kiss on the top of your head.

"You tired?" Harvey asked softly, suddenly noticing that it was long past the time you normally went to bed.

You nodded, sitting up again.

"Yeah, but I knew you needed me." You answered, looking up at him as you grabbed his hand, kissing the back of it.

"I'm sorry baby, I didn't mean to keep you up." He replied, feeling guiltier than he had when he walked in. The time hadn't even registered to him after the day he'd had.

"No, no. It's okay, this is what partners do. You should be able to lean on one another, it's a balance. I'm glad you trust me and our relationship enough to want me to be with you for this while you process. Now, are you sleeping here with me or are we going back to your place? Because I know you, and I know you won't admit you don't want to sleep alone tonight."

Harvey smiled weakly before he pulled you in for a soft kiss.

"I love you, Y/N. So much." He whispered against your lips when the kiss broke.

The admission made your heart skip a beat. Neither of you had said the L word yet, but you knew from the moment you saw him that he was it for you. Harvey had felt the same but didn't want to come off as some crazy boyfriend that knew you for all of five minutes, so he buried those feelings deep down for as long as he could bare.

"I love you too, Harvey." You said, a smile growing on your lips.

"Let's stay here tonight, I don't want to spend another second not in a bed with the wonderful, gorgeous, brilliant, selfless woman that I love." Harvey declared, standing and taking you with him.

"Uh oh, you're gonna make me cry." You warned, sensing the impending waterworks.

"I'm just getting started."

#harvey specter #harvey specter suits #harvey specter x reader #suits fics #harveyspecter #request #suits #we're so back

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portraitofadumbassonfire · 2 years

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Thots On NOPE (SPOILERS)

I get why this is divisive, but, Jordan Peele has constantly described the themes of the film as dealing with Spectacle. He is 1000% right, but I personally think that the themes have even moreso to do with exploitation.

When it comes to Ricky or "Jupe" I've seen so many reviewers saying that subplot had nothing to do with the film as whole, but it did in a VERY haunting way.

When Ricky is talking about the SNL skit that parodied a traumatic time in his life, he recalls it like a well executed comedy sketch. Then it cuts back to him hiding under the table.

I've seen so many videos online that have some sort of attention-grabbing title, regardless if it's accurate to what you will actually see, but the OP is aware of what makes people click on what's to be supposedly promised in the title or the thumbnail. They know what will attract a crowd. Not to be too graphic, but even porn videos will do the same thing, anything to get clicks & clout.

When Ricky starts the show promising a spectacle, he's used to the reaction he gets, hence why he always does the show showing off the "aliens" at 8:00 PM. Or at least practices the show at night, but the reason he does probably has to do with the "aliens" showing up at that specific time, hence why it's the first time we see activity from the supposed "aliens". (When we see the lights from the show when the sun is down in the first few scenes of the film. We don't know if it's rehearsal or just another show of his.)

He's willing to risk the possibility of an attack from a wild animal like the supposed UFO because he dealt with the attack from Gordy. He was waiting for the other shoe to drop. (like the shoe standing upright, which could be the "bad miracle" OJ refers to) He truly thought he could handle the intensity of the "alien ship" since he survived the attack and lived to tell the tale. He developed some kind of God complex that he could work around the danger of a "trained animal". His wife even said "Even trained animals can be unpredictable."

The people on set with Lucky are a great example. Who the hell stands behind a horse as an adult? Who's the genius who had different chimpanzees for a T.V. show with 0 wranglers? There are still people whom are dumb enough to go to the zoo and go over safety barriers, taunt the animals, or even hold their children close from any danger.

It's ironic how people are very obsessed with the concept of aliens, but if too many people can't handle creatures from earth, what makes us think we can handle the ones not from here?

The stars of the SNL skit straight up mocked a heavily disturbing moment in his childhood, yet he's still profiting off of the moment where this kids dress up as aliens to scare his neighbors as a joke and an intimidation tactic. (notice how their alien costumes look also like ape costumes)

Plus he said he was getting paid by people to sleep in a memorabilia room referencing multiple violent deaths on a TV set. Even with Oprah herself, when she interviewed the woman who was attacked by a chimpanzee and got her face ripped off, people in the comments criticize her for exploiting the woman instead of talking about how she moved on from the spectacle of a tragedy.

For the Haywoods, they're trying to uphold a legacy, they're the only black-owned horse trainers and their great great great-grandfather is someone whom had not been credited for their work as the first motion picture captured. For Emerald to be the one who captured a picture of alien proof as the descendant is SOOOO symbolic.

The cinematographer, Antlers, a white man played perfectly by Michael Wincott, didn't like the lighting in the shot he took so he took the risk to get a perfect shot. The TMZ biker had a whole helmet that reflected everything around him because who else would be obsessed with getting all of the chaos around them than TMZ? (The same publication that somehow managed to know that Beyoncé was filming the music video for "XO" & announces celebrity deaths before the family even gets a chance to.)

I've seen videos of so many disturbing events before, during, or after the fact that I can see what Mr. Peele was going for in commentating on. There's an infamous tiktok showcasing someone in the middle of a near plane crash I've seen reposted on Twitter, there's footage of a bear and a cougar in a circus attacking their supposed "trainers", talk show footage of a lion going after a toddler & almost biting the poor child it was sitting next to, the frozen and preserved bodies of those who've tried do climb Mt. Everest, and I've even seen a man who documented himself after getting graphically attacked by two grizzly bears. Yet the views on those videos reach the millions.

There's so many times a fucked up or upsetting moment in time has been exploitated to the point where it can be made a joke, a traumatic scene, or a topic of discussion, and that for me is what NOPE was commentating on. Some will not catch on with one viewing, but I recommend a second, or even third watch to fully get what's being told.

Films like that, that have a longer shelf life are what inspire me. It's a rarity that a filmmaker chooses to give their audience a challenge.

#NOPE #nope movie #jordan peele #daniel kaluuya #steven yuen #brandon perea #nope movie spoilers #nope spoilers #steven yeun

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meimi-haneoka · 7 months

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Cardcaptor Sakura Clear Card Chapter 78: Comments + JP-ENG translation differences

Hello hello!! End of the month, just witnessed Harvest Moon high in the sky (the last Supermoon of 2023!), and we're back like clockwork with another chapter of Cardcaptor Sakura Clear Card!! I have to say the release of Clear Card chapters have often coincided with a Supermoon and I find that so funny, as well as fitting....the moon is such a big element in this arc!

And as we have seen in this arc, the moon is also a messenger of love, and there's so much of it in this chapter....feelings, conflicting emotions, but most importantly, talks of happiness. This chapter wrecked me with emotions even more than the previous one, as we finally got the Kaito/Akiho moment of "discussion" that we waited for so long....where the focal point of the entire arc is: how far can we push ourselves to make our loved ones happy? Is it right for us to arbitrarily decide for their happiness? Along the years, I've seen countless of complains for how the events of the story were unfolding, for how some characters did absolutely the hell they wanted and made decisions for others, but as I knew perfectly well, a story is something in constant development and the goal wasn't to show how helpless people are or how it was right for others to act in that way, quite the contrary. And we'll see with full force what that means in this chapter of the climax, which is surprisingly BIG (36 pages long).

I also have to (unfortunately) report a quite annoying translation mistake in the English version that can confuse people and trick them to believe that Sakura remembered about a certain someone. Along with the usual nuances and such.

BUT FIRST!!

Hehe, you know what's coming, right?

Akiho went THIS close to go full Greta Thunberg on a certain someone!!! 😂 Let's find out WHO it is under the cut!!

The Color Page

Our Sakura this month takes the color spread with one of the most beautiful portrayal of our little magician: dressed in a very elegant layered white dress with jewels, head covered by a white veil, immersed by half in a pond, she looks halfway between a bride and a priestess! And yes, I can already hear you screaming "Tsubasa!!1!1!!!!" because she vaguely reminds of little Sakura-hime at the reservoir....😆 But I think what really makes the atmosphere of this color page "magical" is the presence of countless spheres of light, which seem to be emerging from crystal water lilies and converge in a huge sphere, which really looks like the moon....just to go back to the incipit of this blog post, right? 😂 After observing this color page, I couldn't help but being reminded of the spheres of light that were featured in the color pages of chapter 52 and 63 (with respectively, Kaito and SyaoSaku). Back in my post of chapter 63 I had made an analysis about what the common thread between those two color pages could be, and especially the significance of those spheres of light. If they really are representing the feelings of love for your dearest person, then I'd like to think that here Sakura is being represented as a "fairy" fostering and releasing that love in the open, to help and save the people dear to her. Which is totally the image I'm getting not only from this chapter, but ever since we started to see what happened in the "re-written world". Sakura is literally a messenger of love. And I love that for her. ❤️

The editorial text in the JP version is referencing what Sakura told Akiho back in chapter 49, right after her "sister" shared with her the recount of her night walk with Kaito: "To me, you’re someone I want to see happy forever. Because you're my friend, and someone really precious to me"

"Blink To Say Yes"

The chapter starts with me making amends to Kaito for the nth time, asking for his forgiveness for doubting his intentions and emotional state way over what was due: as the dragon keeps flying away, Sakura grabs Akiho's hand and starts going after the creature, of course followed by Syaoran, Kero and Yue. Akiho (poor girl, still with a tear in her eye) notices with shock that the "portal" to the fake moon is completely disintegrating, revealing the real moon behind it. Flying side-by-side to the dragon, Sakura realizes that the creature got finally out of that place to avoid that Akiho would put herself in danger: in fact, with the portal disappearing like that, she might have been trapped inside that space forever! Sooo as usual, Kaito's actions are skillfully framed by CLAMP in a way that will make you misunderstand him and think he's being irrational or getting on everyone's nerves on purpose, but no, he was actually just putting Akiho's safety first, as usual. ❤️ I know there were some interpretations of him precisely doing this, but I thought it wasn't the case because Sakura broke the spell inside the fake moon, removing the pressure and all, so I couldn't see what danger he needed to protect her from: in fact, the looming danger was a different one, and it was well symbolized by those "bzzz" sounds and effects near the entrance when Akiho was getting in. I had noticed them but dismissed them as the instability of Touya's time magic. I should've known better! 😆 Sorry, Kaito. I know that the only one who can make you do anything at all is only Akiho! Therefore I'm still laughing at how Sakura tried to convince him to get out for half an hour, when all Akiho needed was to move an inch forward 😆😆😆 I also think that what she told him, the fact that she was sure to be in front of "her most important person", changed things for Kaito. His reaction was tangible, despite being hidden behind the eyes of a dragon. And therefore I'm still partially peeved and heartbroken at him, because before hearing that from her (and seeing her putting herself in danger), he was fully planning on staying inside that space forever. He was refusing to come out, knowing very well that the portal would've disappeared at any minute, eliminating any chance of saving him. How dare you.

Well. We were saying that Sakura realized the dragon's intentions right away, and we see her shouting, with a face halfway between shocked and fired-up, "This means she's important to you, too!" (good job ENG translation for not messing this up, I guess. I was worried). Damn right, Sakura. She must be so confused by this person dragon's behavior. It is all so crystal clear to her. It's not only in her head, all the signs keep confirming to her that he really does consider Akiho very important, even now, immutably. The time he spent in that cage didn't change anything for him (and that, if anything, makes everything even more heartbreaking because of how agonizing that must have been). Sakura just can't understand why this person is acting like this, since he truly does care about Akiho. Refusing to go back to her. None of the people around her behave in this way and for her it must be something very new to deal with - and this reminds me of what a blessing we had to get these new characters in this arc, so different from what she's used to, who sometimes pushed her beyond her comfort zone, hence expanding her experience and making her grow up.

Akiho seems encouraged by Sakura's firm statement, so she takes the matter in her hands and shouts to the dragon to please have a talk with her. She shuts her eyes tight, as if being desperate for him to listen to her.

And that's it. That's all it takes for Kaito to be ol' good Kaito and stop immediately at Akiho's request, looking intently at her. As if he's saying "I'm at your service". I've said it countless times in my blog posts, how Kaito is someone who really would do whatever he wants and listens to no reason, but when it comes to Akiho, he really cannot deny anything to her. Akiho sighs in relief at seeing him stopping, and she starts talking to him, so tiny in front of such a giant (is he supposed to look scary? To me he really isn't, he's quite cute) creature. Akiho is well aware, from the countless books she's read till now, that the ones who can have conversations with dragons are almost entirely people with marvelous capabilities (the ENG went for "strange powers" for this, I don't think it fits). She's got no magical powers, but she quickly comes up with a clever way of "communicating": blink your eyes to say 'yes', do nothing and stay like that to say 'no'. And so she immediately starts, because she needs to know, she needs to understand. It's her goddam*ed right to do so, and Kaito knows this very well, hence why he's not denying her the opportunity. Akiho fires the first question: "Are you the one who re-wrote the world?" Kaito blinks, admitting it. I can see a streak of sadness in his eyes as he opens them again. This doesn't make any good to Akiho, who looks pretty sad as well, at hearing that. It's like having one fear, and seeing it confirmed. But she goes on, explaining how the world she's living in right now is warm and caring, full of people who support her and dote on her as if she were one of their family. While she states this, we can see Tomoyo following the events from the tablet with a concerned face, and Touya looking more and more worn out by the time magic he's being keeping up, sustained by Ruby Moon and Spinel Sun.

Akiho is very intuitive, so it's easy to guess where the question is leading: "Did you rewrite it because I never had this, before? And for that, were you the one who erased any trace of you from inside of me?" The ENG version here adds a "Did you do it to bring me happiness?" which is not incorrect, of course, but it doesn't exist in the JP text, and as usual it's used to spoon-feed the readers as if they couldn't get there on their own (and to probably fill a bubble with something).

Kaito cannot lie to the burning question, and he blinks his eyes. We see appearing a "crease" next to his eye, a clever way from Mokona to show us that he's growing more and more distressed. The pain of remembering how her clan abused her, how they got there because of something he said, the pain that resulted from the decision he made when he was just a kid. And the next question is even more burning.

"Did I wish for it?"

Kaito does nothing, confirming he now understands that in fact, Akiho never asked for this. Never. And the girl herself confirms: "I don't remember (you), but I know. I would never wish for a happiness that did not include you". Kaito listens intently to her. I just can't imagine how it must feel to not remember a single thing about someone, and yet feeling all that love pouring out of you. Simply out of instincts.

I Want My Most Important Person Back

Then, with a very (very) resolute face, Akiho turns to her dear Sakura, and affirms: (JP) "Sakura-san. I want to bring my most important person back". Here it is again, the famous term that we CCS fans all know well, the code for "the person I love", that keeps being changed in the ENG translation to a less recognizable "favorite person", which I'm still not sure conveys the same meaning. Sakura agrees with a pleased smile, she's totally ready to do anything to give her true happiness back to her "sister". Then, she turns to Dragon Kaito, and here we start with the "parallels" that will enrich this chapter of many many additional emotions.

Yes❤️ it's a parallel with Lilie, from chapter 72. Same expression and all. Precisely from when she was telling her the words that Sakura is going to relay to Kaito now: "What is happiness, to you?".

And here I have to introduce probably the worst mess of a translation mistake of this chapter, that will surely confuse people and make them believe things that actually arent' true:

ENG: "Someone asked me that once, too. In a dream. But, try as I might...I couldn't remember who it was. Not until she crossed time and dreams to see me. I think she did that for this moment. And...I think that's why she left me this card in the end, too"

JP: "These are words I've heard in a dream. I can't really remember who said them, no matter how hard I try, but...that person crossed time and dreams in order to come to see me. It was surely for this moment. And...this last Card remained, too...was for this very moment, right?"

I sincerely have no idea how they could mess up and make Sakura say that she actually remembers about Lilie, after she came to see her. Lilie had been so clear about it, in chapter 72, that the Forbidden Magic would've made Sakura forget as soon as she exited the dream, and so it happened, indeed. Why making her basically say that she remembered, afterwards? This is against the script! Moreover, not happy with messing that up, they even made Sakura say that the last Clear Card remained was left by Lilie herself! That's nonsense, that's not what the JP text says! Momo told her that there were some Clear Cards that were protected by her with a spell and they were waiting for Sakura to call them up, that's HOW the Clear Card that we're going to see now is able to be here. Not because Lilie gave it to Sakura. And before anyone points out "yes, but the one who paid for that spell with her ring was Lilie", I have to remind you that Sakura is not supposed to know that. Momo never told her WHO paid that price. So basically this is a mess-up on all fronts. But let's go back to our story because the emotional moments are just escalating. Before Sakura mentions the Card, we can see for a moment Lilie's reflection in the Dragon's eyes. A clear sign that Kaito understood perfectly who Sakura was talking about! And I think it's so beautiful that Sakura, always listening to her intuition (remember how she wasn't very good at this, before? That she dismissed her intuition, and Syaoran told her that his mother taught him not to?), understands that THIS is the moment to get this question out, because here she basically posed this question to Kaito. And this will help him decide in a few pages.

Proceeding forward, we can finally meet the big absentee ever since Sakura secured it back in chapter 33: the Rewind Card!!! One of the most beloved Cards, obviously for its appearance that was based on Syaoran and its cuteness! This card is the last one that still had to appear and that never showed up in Clockland, a sign that Kaito wasn't able to put his hands on it and "drag it" into the fictional world created with Momo's magic. It's the last Card that was waiting to be called by Sakura. And so she does! Syaoran is quite surprised and provides a "Spiderman meme" moment when he realizes that the Card looks just like him! 😂 Sakura explains to him that Record was able to record this Card as well, so that's how she knew of its existence (and not because Lilie gave it to her, once again!!!).

It's time. Sakura announces to the Dragon that she's going to bring him back to "himself". Our girl does so because she wants to implicitly give him the chance to have a say in this. She doesn't really "ask", but it's like she's implicitly doing it, because she wants to make sure that this is something he wants too.

In fact, in a very emotional moment, he and Akiho exchange again a long stare. It's like a silent conversation is going on between them. The dragon is depicted with a painful expression, while Akiho is staring at him firmly and determined. He's still, to the very end, thinking he does not deserve to go back to his human real form and go back to her. But she's unwavering, and uncompromising. She wants him back, and she's going to have him back. Because, after all, under a pile of self-loathing and pain, this is what he wants too. This is his happiness. So, with a very suffering expression, he blinks his eyes one more time to say "go ahead". In his condition, this must have costed him a lot of effort. You know who they reminded me of, in this scene?

Yeah, them. I've been saying it for long time, agreeing with other friends affirming the same in their own posts, how I could see a clear parallel between Clone SyaoSaku from TRC and YunaAki in Clear Card. They didn't exactly go through the same things, but their experiences often overlapped. And this in particular is overlapping really well. As I wrote already in my Twitter thread, he's given a chance to go back, but he's crushed by guilt. He doesn't think he deserves it. But she stares FIRMLY at him, pulling him towards life, a life with her. And he closes his eyes, and caves in. Because in the end, this is what he wants too. To be with her.

So Sakura proceeds. She says that she doesn't know who the Dragon is, but the pocket watch does. And as said pocket watch levitates in the air from Akiho's hands towards the Rewind Card, Sakura explains that it does know him because it used to "weave time" together with him. And so, combining the Card with the watch, Sakura activates Rewind on Kaito, exactly as I expected!

And the moment is absolutely emotional, as we finally see again after 8 long chapters (and relative months), our dear Kaito's face!!! The way the Rewind Card "works" on him is also quite spectacular, from a visual POV, since the pocket watch seemingly "enters" the dragon and frees Kaito from within. The fact is, we don't see the pocket watch after he changed back, so now I'm wondering: did it stay inside of him???

But, whoops, something didn't quite go alright. The black wings of the dragon stick to Kaito's back. Kero observes him and wonders with Yue if he's been a creature like them this whole time, but fear not, Yue dissolves the doubt right away: he thinks he's a regular human magician (the kanji says 魔術師, magician, while the furigana reads ひと, person), it's just that the spell that was active on him (the "Seal of D", as we know) was probably so damn powerful that even borrowing the pocket watch's power (as said in the JP version) wasn't enough for Rewind to bring him completely back to his appearance. Well, you want my opinion? Those wings look FANTASTIC on him and I absolutely want him to keep them!!! (maybe with a little spell he can conceal them when it's not convenient?) 😂❤️ He looks like a dark angel and it's amazing.

Don't Decide My Happiness On My Behalf

But the real, heartwrenching emotional moment starts here. This is also the moment when I started emitting all kinds of inhuman sounds, so I'm grateful I'm not one of those people doing a live reaction on youtube or something because this would be the end of my reputation on the internet 😂😂😂😂

Akiho and Kaito, finally in his original human form, exchange a long stare, again. His face is showing perfectly how he's absolutely heartbroken at what he realized he caused to her. It's guilt adding over guilt. And as she finally looks at the face of the person her heart knows is the one she loves, she can't stop the tears from forming again in her eyes, while she poses the only REAL question that she probably wanted to ask all along:

"Why?"

And as I always do with pivotal moments, I'm going to continue with the direct translation from the JP text, because the ENG added something ("why did you leave me?", which contributes to convey Akiho's feelings and possibly makes this even more romantic) that wasn't there in the original, and I have to be impartial.

Akiho, JP: "Why did you choose to disappear....from the rewritten world?"

I wanted to put the JP version here also because an important verb is missing from the ENG version: choose. Akiho is questioning Kaito about his choice. Because yes, this wasn't a result of a whim, Kaito chose to disappear from her life. And now he has to answer for that. Akiho's face is twisted in pain, as if she's trying to control the tears that now profusely fall from her eyes, and contain an immesurable grief in realizing that her most beloved person chose to remove himself quite definitively from her life.

His reply, though, proceeded to shatter my heart even further, cause it's exactly what I expected and have been saying this whole time.

Kaito, JP: "Because I thought I wasn't necessary to your happiness"

This is the only line we'll hear from Kaito in this chapter. For the rest of it, he'll listen in silence, giving space to Akiho and trying to elaborate. Besides, I want to point out that for the first time ever, he uses "ore" as a personal pronoun while talking to Akiho, and he's also seemingly dropped the use of keigo, the polite speech that he used with basically everyone before. Signifying that he's finally being honest and open, he's being his true self.

In his reply, there's all the self-loathing and hurt and pain he's been experiencing till now. Not recently, but ever since he was a baby. Remember that this boy grew up completely devoid of love in his life, completely abandoned to himself, exploited for his powers by a congregation of criminals. Kaito is, himself, a victim of abuse too, and I would want the CCS readers to acknowledge that more. Because if we have to wonder how we came to this situation, well, this is how. This is the damage that growing up in that kind of environment can cause to people. And we don't have to go that far because, if we remove the "magic" factor from the Association, we can find environments of that kind even in our daily real life. Growing up in that environment didn't stop Kaito from developing attachment to a person. From developing love for them. But, as he grew up not knowing what his self-worth was, being used as a commodity by other people, he's been convinced this whole time that he was nothing to her. That when he managed to accomplish his goal, he wouldn't need to be there because she didn't need him anymore. And I know, I can hear you, "How is it possible that he didn't notice how Akiho looked at him and how she loved him?" That's precisely because of his mental condition that prevented him from seeing or even believing what he was seeing. Kaito thought that he was born alone, and he'd die alone. That no one would ever be able to love him. That's why. And it's heartbreaking that someone would live their life like that.

With such a condition, Kaito's intentions were good but he went down a twisted path to make them true, completely missing the right way to go about it. Akiho doesn't know anything about this, but the heartwrenching scene that follows is something that's absolutely in her right to say. It is something I anticipated so so much.

Akiho, JP (lit.): "Please don't decide my happiness for me! Even if it's you! Please don't tear up and throw away my most important person!!"

Sadness and anger are mixed with Akiho's tears while she pours out all of her pain. I wanted to feature the literal translation of the JP text because I think the verb used, 破り捨ててしまう, depicts a very heartwrenching scene in my head. It is a verb that it's akin to when you tear up a piece of paper and discard it in the trash.

This is literally what Kaito did with his existence, when he went through with his plan.

So Akiho here is not only scolding him because he dared depriving her life of her most important person (and she doesn't care if it's he himself, he's not allowed to do that), but also BECAUSE HE DISREGARDED HIS OWN LIFE IN DOING SO. He's treated himself as a disposable object. And Akiho can't stand that. She loves him so much, despite not remembering a single thing about him, that she can't stand the thought of him hating himself to that point. I think, the way the ENG translation portrayed it, focuses too much on Akiho scolding Kaito for not having the right to remove himself from her life, and completely misses the other, implied, darker part of her line.

Akiho is understandably wrecked and she would want to scold Kaito more, but as she says herself, she doesn't even know what name to call him with. He erased so much from her that she isn't even allowed the luxury to remember his name. But I think this scene here might actually be a foreshadowing for him to reveal his true name to her later, so I'm waiting in anticipation for this (I've been actually waiting ever since chapter 51!). In the meantime, to break a little the drama with a funny moment, I think she wanted to call him baka, but as she doesn't even know his name, she can't do that! 😂what do you think???

And as I always say, Eriol suddenly opens the communication with Sakura to bring bad news! 😂Kaho is exhausted and can't hold the time stopped much longer (furthermore, it seems even Eriol is participating to keep the spell up), so he informs Sakura of that and she thanks him with a worried face. Syaoran looks up and notices that a hole is appearing in the stopped environment, signifying that the time magic is wearing off. So Sakura turns to Akiho and asks her what she wants to do from now. Notice that "from now" well, cause it's very symbolic: it's as if Sakura is saying "other people chose for you till now, but now you're given the chance to finally decide by yourself". With a painful face, eyes drowned in tears, Akiho ponders for a moment and then says that she's been really, really happy to be part of Sakura's family, but if that's not real, then she wants to go back, no matter how much hardships and pain is awaiting ahead. Please register how difficult it must have been for Akiho to wish that. Because right now, she's got all she wanted, love, a warm family, friends and even her most important person is here with her. But the fact is, this arrangement was created by someone with magic, it's not real, it's not how things naturally came to be. Moreover, no matter how strong her love can be, she still doesn't remember anything about her most important person and all she experienced with him, and that is something that is eating her soul away, because she recognizes that she lost something invaluable. So she's willing to let go of all this comfort to go back to the life she had before, WELL KNOWING (because Kaito confirmed it to her earlier) that in her previous life there will also be a lot of pain awaiting her. Moreover, she adds that if there's anything she'll be able to change, then she wants to do that with her own strength (again, a detail that's missing from the ENG translation). And then, turning to Kaito with a very assertive face: "Together with my most important person".

Kaito at this point can only stare in shock at her. Because I'm sure that he thought that after making her cry and suffer this much, she wouldn't have wanted anything to do with him anymore. But, as Kaito hopefully will have all the time to find out, this girl's feelings are no joke. It's no flimsy crush. This is the type of love that binds you to your soulmate forever, and gives you the strength to forgive them when they make you suffer, if you can recognize that their heart was in the right place. Akiho wants to grasp control of her life, wants to be the one to completely make decisions from now on, but she also wants Kaito with her, not only by her side but also participating to those life decisions. She doesn't want to cut him off.

Sakura, with the sweetest smile ever, tells her (JP)"If you two will be together....everything will surely be alright". And here I have to point out two things in the ENG translation: that single "together" that sounds a bit overcautious, not specifying who's together, when in the JP text it's clear she's referring to those two (because the context comes from the panel right before), and then the choice to translate Sakura's iconic invincible spell with "I'm sure it'll work out". That's not how the English speaking fandom knows Sakura's invincible spell as, and from what I've been told, it's not even how it's been translated previously! So this makes pretty difficult for the English speaking fans to recognize that she's uttering her invincible spell here!

Especially cause, look what a wonderful and touching parallel they have done...

The one you can see above is coming from Volume 5 of the old manga, and it's the very first time Sakura uttered the invincible spell, releasing the Light and Dark Cards from inside herself. This parallel, where you can see that Mokona sensei strived to redraw the spread exactly as she did back then, really gives off a feeling of "coming full circle", especially cause when you put them one beside the other it's so easy to see how much Sakura grew since then. Back then, Sakura told those words to herself to comfort herself in a moment of panic. Now, Sakura is telling these same words to a beloved person in a critical situation, to encourage her that if she'll be with her most important person, everything is going to be alright, no matter what awaits ahead. It also reminded me of the comforting words that Yukito told Sakura back in volume 12 of the old manga, the night before Sakura ran to the bus stop to give Syaoran her teddy bear. Yukito told her that as long as both she and her most important person wished to see one another again, it would be fine. I can kinda sense that Sakura wanted to comfort Akiho in the same way, that as long as she and Kaito stay together, they can overcome anything ahead. And I found that absolutely wonderful.

Unfortunately, the awesome moment full of courage and love is interrupted because Syaoran notices the time magic has given up and the arrows start attacking them again, as expected. We see a very worrisome panel with Eriol crouching to the ground next to a passed out Kaho (poor Kaho!!!!), while he hold his staff and sends a remote protective spell to shield the kids from the oncoming attack.

Without wasting time, Kaito grabs Akiho and holds her tight in a protective embrace, curling his beautiful black wings on her to shield her, while she's still shocked (and with tears in her eyes). I have no shame in admitting that THIS panel turned my screams in ultrasounds and it's become my favorite one of the chapter!! Especially cause here we have that magician who couldn't even bring himself to touch his beloved Akiho's head to comfort her, now finally not hesitating anymore and holding her in a very tight embrace to protect her (still giving all of himself for her, I guess it's just his way to love her). The situation is dire: Syaoran activates his Fuuka Shourai to fight the arrows off, while Kero and Yue shoot their own attacks, because the arrows just keep coming at them non-stop. Kero tells Sakura that they're going to take care of the attacks, and Yue says that she's the only one at this point who can change radically the situation. Then, Syaoran, our brave hero, says that he will absolutely protect what Sakura wants to protect (I didn't like the ENG phrasing, at all!! "Whatever it is that you want to protect" sounds so dismissing towards Akiho and Kaito?? Is it only me having a bias at this point?), so he urges her to focus on what she can do (to change this situation)!! I found this moment very exciting....everyone is placing their hope in Sakura and they're gonna do what they can to protect everyone, Akiho and Kaito included (and Kaito took personally care of protecting Akiho by himself).

Sakura is left wondering what to do. "To turn things back to normal, then I should use Rewind one more time" but she expresses doubt at it being enough to complete the task, so she wonders what else she needs to do, while the final page shows in her hands both the Time Card and the Rewind Card!

Aaaaaaand this is how the chapter ends, we finally reached the bottom oh my gosh!! 😂 This chapter was so long but also so full of emotions, I really wanted to touch all the important topics and parallels that have been portrayed in these 36 pages. I know the post became infinite, but I wouldn't feel right to know that I left something interesting out.

I am so damn proud of my Akiho girl. Her assertive discussion with Kaito, tinted with a touch of anger, was exactly what I wanted and expected from her. Because she's sweet, yes, but also got a strong personality. And once you get her fired-up, she's not going to stop. She's a bulldozer. I mean, haven't you seen what she did in chapter 52/53 and 58 with Kaito?? She's definitely not afraid to confront people thanks to her strong nature. This finally elevates her character development in this arc. I'm also grateful to Sakura and her empathy, once again, because it's so beautiful to witness what she's doing for these people. And she's so wonderful that even her loved ones are helping her in this quest, because they all trust her and recognize that this is a way to make her happy too. I'm absolutely thrilled to have Kaito back, finally. And my heart bled for him when he gave that single answer to Akiho.

Despite seeming like we're almost at the end of the run, there are still some important matters to fix and explain, especially in regard to the magical artifacts, and how things will be once Sakura effectively manages to "go back". Will they remember, first of all? And will the situation be exactly like before? Because then, Akiho will have the artifact inside herself once again and they'll have to do something about that too. Also, Kaito's lifespan was pretty bad by the start of the Alice in Clockland play, so of course one has to wonder what they'll do about that too. I also expect one more YunaAki moment because we haven't really heard Kaito's version of the facts, the origin of his quest to save Akiho and how that turned into a "I'm going to give her a happy life too", which absolutely seems beyond what he would need to do if what moved him was only guilt for what he caused to her. Of course it's not only that. And I also expect to hear his apologies to Akiho, of course! ❤️ But gradually, because he must be a confused, hurting mess right now. Whatever else CLAMP sensei will decide to give us regarding those two, I'll take it as a blessed present. We're slowly but inexorably going towards the finale. I really can't wait to read the next chapter, which is expected by Halloween on October 31st! And as a YunaAki fan I can't avoid remembering that even chapter 48, when Akiho confessed covertly to Kaito, came on the day of Halloween of 2020! Will we get a real, spelled out confession exactly 3 years later???

As usual, I await your comments here or in my inbox, see you at the end of this month!!

#cardcaptor sakura #card captor sakura #clear card arc #ccsakura #ccs spoilers #sakura card captor #chapter 78 #translation differences #yuna d. kaito #akiho shinomoto #sakura kinomoto #syaoran li #yunaaki

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quitealotofsodapop · 8 days

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Imagine if MK hadn't even realized who he was talking to and just thought the ghost monkey was just, well, a regular old spirit. This is his first time doing this sort of thing on FFM, so he wouldn't know it was normal to see monkey ghosts running around with Gold Vision. Then Wukong drops the biggest bomb that, apparently, this nerdy dork of a monkey is the Monkey King's father?? That Guanyin had done him a solid and asked to temporarily allow her sould to return to her past life as Wukong's mother so he might have the chance to meet his parents? Overall MK is gonna freak out, be was probably there when they discovered Luzhen's egg snd learned to truth about Wukong's origins, he probably had to help Wukong out of there when he collapsed from the shock of that realization (something Sandh is definitely helping Wukong to work through because this is BIG)

referencing.

Yesss. MK learns quickly upon gaining Gold Vision, that it can be used to see the spirits of the departed. He learns this on accident when he accidentally assists ghosts in around Megapolis one day.

Part of the reason MK really wanted to join in on Qingming on FFM was because he knows thats a day where the dead walk amongst the living. And if he can pass on some messages from the past to the present monkeys then he'd be delighted.

Yē Lín (椰林/coconut grove) is a super-nerdy brown-furred monkey spirit that reminds MK of a shorter Mr Tang. They run into each other at the fringes of the banquet, the ghost trying his best to attack the bowls of peaches. He's super excited to meet MK and talks at length about how much the island has changed and how well Wukong has grown into his role as the island's leader.

MK is in turn; super excited to meet a monkey from before the Monkey King was hatched! Yē Lín rambles for seemingly hours about what life was like before the Great Flood (something MK has heard but not investigated much of), and of his dearest "stone flower" mate who leaded their troop up until their passings. MK meets the golden-furred woman very briefly, as she's busy strolling around the party, seemingly drinking in the warmth of the fires. She seems fixated on the elder monkeys like the Stalwarts, commenting on how much they've grown since their cubs days.

MK, nervous but curious at why the spirit and his mate appear so young, ask Yē Lín how he passed on.

Yē Lín: "Well see, after the Flood I thought I lost my mate. I got stuck in a cavern beneath the mountain and figured it was the end. So I wrote and drew everything I've ever known on the walls and started the process." MK: "Process?" Yē Lín: "To make my Egg. I hope it isn't lost knowledge by now." MK, realising: "Wait. Are you a stone monkey!?" Yē Lín, smiling in a familiar cheeky manner: "Guilty as charged!" MK: "Then... wait. Is your egg still in the mountain!?" Yē Lín, nods: "Yup. I haven't really moved on yet cus I want to make sure the little fella is found." MK: "I got to tell Monkey King about this! Come with!" Yē Lín, excited: "Sure thing! Maybe we can find my stone flower's egg baby as well!" MK: "She made a Stone Egg too?!" Yē Lín: "Yes, but he hatched centuries ago. He's the mirror image of her- oh there's my wife! I think she's found him!" *runs ahead through the crowd of dancers* MK: *briefly loses sight of the monkey ghost due to the little monkeys playfully clinging to his legs* "Wait up!" Yē Lín: "My love! Have you've seen him yet? He looks just like you! I just saw the little ones! Looks like his heir got cursed with my looks!" MK, catching up: "Monkey King! Have you met these guys yet? They're so cool and they know everything about you and the island!" MK: *realises that Sun Wukong is talking with the same tall near-indentical-looking female monkey spirit* ( 0_0) "wait"

The female monkey spirit turns and smiles with deep warmth.

Like that of a mother.

MK's heart stoppers in his chest.

MK: "The Monkey King's mother."

The Monkie Kid is statue still for the next few moments as he realises just who he's been talking to for the last few hours! He blurts out his discovery without fear of the potential consequences.

MK: "MONKEY KING YOU HAVE A DAD AND A BROTHER!" Wukong, still recovering from meeting his mom: "I have a what!?"

The last remaing hours of Qingming are spent following Yē Lín ("The Monkey King's Dad" MK can't stop thinking) to the cavern where he laid to rest. Those at the party who overheard their prince's shout (especially the King's own shadowy mate) following close behind.

When MK split the mountain open fighting Azure Lion, he accidentally uncovered the very same water-logged cavern which held the Consort's body. Inside the broken-wound-like cave in the mountain's base, finally open after so many centuries, lay the petrified vague form of a Stone Monkey, sitting in a lotus position.

Yē Lín: "I left some naming suggestions on the wall. I think Walks Reality is very appropriate given the circumstances."

The stone body immediately starts shaking with divine energy. The belly cracking open as a Stone Egg is finally found by it's Troop.

A pair of bright blue eyes peak out of the Egg's lazurite shell as it realises it's finally time to wake up.

The spirits of the Matriarch and her Consort aww at how much the newborn monkey resembles it's brother.

Sun Wukong faints.

#stone matriarch au #sun wukong #lmk mk #qi xiaotian #sun luzhen #lmk sun luzhen #lmk #lego monkie kid #lmk aus

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flanpucci · 1 month

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I want to dedicate a love post to Enrico Pucci because I just love him so much and my brain will never be the same again

I love that he's complex and flawed and driven by his grief and the depth of his love. I love how unacceptable his destiny is and he will do anything to open everyone's eyes to the absence of power they have in the story's world. It is impossible for him to exist in his world where he was created only to serve the purpose of giving the Joestars something to oppose and grow from, and the remedy he has found to this is to simply take control of the story, end everything and start again with the knowledge he has acquired, and maybe, the hope to free himself from his sins and bring back his loved ones.

I admire his will and determination to strive for greatness, self-growth and to see things to their end more than anything, staying calm and not backing away, seizing every opportunity. He also learns from everyone around him, from their battle tactics, from their relationships. He's a very smart and analytical character even though he's also stubborn and throws fits from time to time, which show his humanity, which is necessary since he's so superior without those flawed moments. I like his loneliness, the way he has a way to talk to and taunt people that's very unique to him, and directed at himself, he doesn't care if you don't understand, he doesn't care if he's celebrating his victories alone, he'll do it anyway. He's fun and quirky to look at, when he interacts with people, he's fun to anger, and it's satisfying to see him getting in dire situations (especially if he gets up from them)

He's evil and flawed and is a ruthless, one-track minded man, he's self-centered and can't accept (understand?) that people have different mindsets than himself. He knows he's right from start to finish, and that makes him such a great character with incredible confidence and charisma. He's the most terrifying character in all of JJBA, arguably the most powerful, his ability is just pure chaos and his eyes are cold as hell. He's got a strong inclination for revenge and likes to carry it in style, even if it means taking some damage in the process. I also like how ambiguous he is with some other characters, taking advantage of the fact they are drawn to him, using his appeal as a means to obtain what he wants. His dynamic with Dio brings a lot of depth to Dio's character, giving him the almost 'humanity' he severely lacks in other parts (especially SDC), it's very enjoyable to watch the way they interact together, which is so different from how we see them act with other people. The whole idea of the bone, fusing, and MIH is aesthetically really interesting and I liked trying to notice moments where the Dio influence might have taken over Pucci's decisions.

The themes surrounding him are very referenced and fascinating, religion, art, biology, physics and space, technology, philosophy, the stand lore... The details and references that come give depth to his character are limitless, did you know there's an actual italian scientist on gravity whose name was Enrico Pucci? That the adulterous priest he reads about in church is a famous painter who regretted taking his oath at 15 and had ties to the real Pucci family in Italy? He's also a very well constructed character in terms of psychology, he's never OOC, he feels very 3D in a 2D world.

Also he's awesome black representation in terms of character design with references to fashion (Versace '97), probably Michael Jackson too, the flag of the city of Florence, the emblem of the Pucci family... His character design is holy with just a touch of sinful, and I'm not even talking about how cool Whitesnake is in general. I really like how Pucci/Whitesnake oppose both Weather/Weather Report but also Jonathan in terms of design. He's the most beautiful character I've ever seen overall, wears a beautiful tight and shiny gown, beautiful both in color and in black and white, first has a fun, pretty but manly design, which turns into a cute star-shaped motif shamelessly stolen from the Joestars, he has tired downturned eyes filled with depression, and the cutest nose in all of JJBA, he's tall and handsome with the big chest and shoulders especially in anime but also cute and feminine and has thin wrists and those cute sleeves... He's giving mom and dad at the same time and I love how curious he is with the green baby and how proud and happy he is with C-Moon and MIH and YES HES MY FAVE ANYWAYS

I didn't even get into how interesting he represents the relationship between faith, philosophy and science, or his relationship to the concept of blood ties, I could go on for hours but I'm late for class

#enrico pucci #pucci #jjba #jojo's bizarre adventure #stone ocean #analysis

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legendofmorons · 1 year

Text

How to fall in love twice (Time, Malon) -Part 4

Pairing : Malon x Reader x Time

Rating: T

Summary: As you and Malon have some bonding time in Kara Kara inn Time gets pissy with the boys.

Warnings: Implied/ referenced child abuse, referenced alcoholism - (Reader had a drunk father that sucked until he was forced to get better or stay gone)

Other: if I missed anything, please let me know.

-------

You spend the two weeks a version of Wild's hyrule. The land is beautiful but the problem say it's only been twenty years since the calamity.

During this, you and Malon spend time talking and doing upkeep for an adventure. You gather rupees for odd jobs and stocking on supplies. With several faries and lots of weapons, you settle for basic food supplies. You leave an adventuring tag for the boys on the off chance they come across it

At the moment, you and Malon are settled inside the in of Kara Kara Buzzar, the busseling groups outside loud.

Inside is a haven of perfect temperature ir, maintained by enchanted sapphires.

"I hope the boys are doing okay." Malon says as she inspects her bow, eyes nothing but calculating.

"Mh, they're fine... By now, they're figured out that we're not coming back and that we got the mask."

"I know. I'm just worried. "

"Can I help?"

"No... It's just weird. I'm not usually the one on an adventure. "

You nod, not quite understanding the sentiment but understanding being on an adventure you weren't expecting or really even supposed to be on.

She looks at you fully, her soft smile a little bitter in the afternoon light. "I'm just glad that it's you that I'm with and not someone else."

"Oh- thanks. I'm glad it's you here too." Yoy say, trying not to come off as the giant smitten crush haver you are.

"You're sweet. It's really no wonder Link likes you so much."

"Oh, yeah... I try."

Malon just laughs, warm and amused. "You're a good person, and I've heard you're a Greta friend."

"That means a lot. Thank you."

She just smiles, pulling her bag onto the bed so she can double-check her arrow supply.

If she's honest- she likes you too. A lot. More than a friend even if it is a fresh crush.

You're funny, kind, and very attractive. She likes how you try to help people and protect those who need it. You're good people.

You turn to the window, watching the sands roll by as chatter sounds around you. The tourists outside are all dressed in linens and silks, seeking refuge from the sun as they browse the stalls.

You can hear Time worrying, even if you aren't actually there. You've seen it enough times, overheard his muttering, he thought no one could hear. You just hope he and the others are okay.

(You can see the pacing and the glaring as he mutters about where you and his wife might possibly be. The way he gets snappy with everyone's. How he takes as many watch shifts as he physically can before royally crashing. Only to repeat the whole process.)

"Hey, (Y/n)?" Malon calls.

"Yeah?"

"What was it like for you growing up?"

You turn to face her, her curiosity evident. And usually you don't just tell people about your past but most people don't ask. To be fair.

"Well... I mean, mom was born on a ranch and grew up there with her siblings. Dad was a royal guard from a long line of them.

"I grew up in castle town, I have three siblings though. And we spent every summer at Mamaw and Papaw's ranch. I did good in school but I struggled to keep up.

"It was okay, dad wasn't home a whole lot... Drank when he was, but he just got loud and angry."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"It's fine. The one time he hit us, mom nearly killed him." You give a shrug, "After that, he left for a year and came back better. I still don't talk to him much these days. But I don't feel like he's a danger anymore either."

"He hit you?" Malon asks, furry already filling her. How dare anyone ever mistreated children - how dare anyone mistreated you.

Oh, she'd like to kick your father's ass. That would be fun.

She can only imagine that Time would be on board.

"Once. Never again." You shrug, unphased because honestly you've faced worse on this quest with the boys.

"That's a real low thing."

"It's cool, I can kick his ass now. After learning to hold my own against the boys, I think I could take on Gannon myself." You crack a smile, hoping to distract her with a joke.

"I'm sure you could."

"Maybe that's why we got pulled away, to destroy gannon?" You snort at just the thought.

Gannon is so fucked is you or Malon meet him, but both of you- well he'd be done for. You both have a lot of rage towards him and you're both skilled at fighting.

"Ha! Maybe so."

"How would you do it?" You ask, "Defeat Gannon, I mean."

Malon tilts her head with a hum, thinking about the logistics of her ideal victory. She bites her lip as she does this.

"I think I'd just take my cast iron skillet to his head." Malon says with a shrug, "What about you?"

"Hm- I meN I'd wanna say the sword would let me weird it and go that route... but I'd probably be more likely to fight him with a baseball bat full of nails."

"That's a good choice."

"I think so!"

Malon changes the subject again, this time to the places you've been.

And you just enjoy the downtime with the redhead. You definitely are starting to fully grasp why Time likes her so much.

.......

Time can't stand can't of this, settled at a campfire in the Great plateu of Wild's hyrule is awful. Time's only thoughts are of you and Malon.

The woods are no comfort to him. Only making him more on edge because you could be anywhere in any time, and he'd never even see you if you were here.

Time is so worried. And everything is too quiet.

He's- used to not having Malon around all the time on this quest... But you've been there so long your absence is particularly felt.

The lack of your smile and laugh has been awful. Your help with cooking has been missed. The soft touches as you help him dress wounds -

Oh he's so fucked.

"I'm sure it's fine." Wind says a s he sits down by Time.

"Sailor - you don't know that. "

"I do. You have a type. Stubborn." Wind's smile at the end is a little smug.

"I- that is not my type."

"It's part of it."

"I'm just worried about them. Obviously, something happened. Neither of them would just run away. "Time says as he narrows his gaze on the ground.

"No... they wouldn't. "Sky says, "But they're together, are they're both smart."

"That doesn't mean they are in danger. I'm not even sure the mask is going to be helpful. What if they haven't even found it?"

Wind just listens, not sure how to help but wishing Time eoukd stop being so on edge.

"It will be okay, Time. Obviously you get them back. Or Twilight wouldn't exist." Sky tries to reason.

"That only means I get Malon back- what if (Y/n) dosen’t ever come back? What if It's my fault and I didn't hear them and-"

"Time." Twilight says firmly to try to stop the rambling spiral the man seems set on.

Everyone is worried about you and Malon. Everyone wants to get you all to safety-

"Hey, old man." Warriors calls out, "Come look at this."

Time stands, gaze landing on Warriors next to the largest tree in the forest, roots almost like their own tunnel.

The man was towards the knight, waiting for more instruction.

"These are (Y/n)'s initials, aren't they?"

Time looks, and maybe your hylian and his hylian are very different but you'd taught him how you tagged certain things when lost. A habit picked up from a survivalist uncle.

The tag carved into the tree reads your intials and then 'day 4'.

Unfortunately, the wood is well healed. At least fifty years have passed, probably longer. But the chain hadn't been in the plateu before, which means -

You got pulled away through a portal. With Malon at your side, probably. And you are in the past of the current time the boys are in.

That's some real shit.

"Well... at least we know what happened to them?" Wild trues, not really soundings too confident in it.

"I'm going for a walk." Time says in place of any real answer.

"Should we tag that way?" Wind suggests from behind the group.

"Maybe." Wild says, "So they can at least keep up with where we've been."

Warriors nods, deciding to tag the tree below your carving 'H.C. day 9.'

He just hopes you can figure it out.

Time can be seen going on a walk Allright, a real pissy walk.

Yikes.

#lu #linkeduniverse #misty writes #linked universe x reader #lu time #lu malon #lu malon x lu time #malon x time #time x malon x reader

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nonsensical-pixels · 1 year

Text

THE LINDASIMS2 RESEARCH AND EXPERIMENTATION: PART ONE

No idea how to really make one of these posts. Most Sundays I'd wake up and post my own CC. But not this Sunday.

DISCLAIMER: This is not really a callout post. This is a warning to anyone who intends to download Lindasim's stuff. And a genuine one. I have nothing personal against Linda, this is only what I've found from my own deep dive into Linda's files. I have no proof that what I've found is stuff that Linda herself did, but the stuff does exist. And it's terrible.

WARNING: Some of these images contain racial slurs that may make you uncomfortable.

You can find the nails file I use for my 'research' post here. It's part of the reuploaded March 2021 set and from what I can see that entire set is a giant mess.

Credits go to @dystopianam and aga on @acottonsock's server for providing the links to the files I needed to inspect.

Continue to read if you really want to know what you download when you download Linda's files.

OPENING THE FILE

Obviously, step 1 to any research regarding Sims 2 CC is... opening the file. And at first glance, this may seem completely normal to a CC newbie. It's from 'Base cc #333', 'LS_ACC_TF_AF_nail_M1_4swatches', 'LS_ACC_AF_nail_1v290321_mesh'.

I mean, it looks like any normal Sims 2 file, right? It's a mesh!

Until you open one of DeeDee's own accessory files.

Yeah... notice how there's a TON of stuff that isn't present in the other two?

Now, at first, I gave this the benefit of the doubt. Maybe, I thought, this was just another sign of my lack of knowledge regarding Sims 2 CC. It's been awhile since I've done my own accessories. But let's move on to the next part of my research...

THE 3DID REFERENCING FILES

There are 57 3DID Referencing Files in this nails mesh files. And maybe I'm ignorant, but I'm pretty sure sims don't have 57 fingers.

I didn't have time to actually see where they're pointing to... but... why the heck are they in a mesh file?

THE AGE DATA

This was what originally stood out to me the most. Why the heck is there AGE DATA in a nail accessory?

THE BHAVS

In @dystopianam's post, they mentioned the game reading some of Linda's files as mods. Well, I found the reason why.

There are... BHAVs? In a mesh file? For those who don't know, BHAVs literally alter the game's code or add new code. From what I can guess these BHAVs probably have something to do with the sim embedded in this file?

THE CATALOG DESCRIPTION

This was the icky part. And why I was hesitant to make this post.

Yep, turns out that whoever made this file is a big fat racist. Also fatphobic. Also probably aware that catalog descriptions shouldn't be in accessory files. Most of the ones I've seen were for objects or... sims. But this one isn't.

THE GMDC AND ASSOCIATED MESH ELEMENTS

Okay, through all of this, I was under the impression that the GMDC, GMND, CRES, and SHPE would be the most boring elements to inspect. I... was wrong.

Yep, the sim has a face. No clue what their name is but they are more present in this file than I expected.

THE JPG IMAGES

It's the hero you've all been waiting for... LIGHTNING MCQUEEN himself!!

Yep, he's here too! He's real! And he doesn't just accompany hairs, I can tell you that much, because these are nails!

Apparently these were based on Bruno's files? (From MTS), since there's a Bruno JPG slipped in there.

THE MATERIAL DEFINITIONS

There are 38 random material definitions. IDK why they're here. They're just... vibing.

THE OBJD (OBJECT DATA)

I was baffled to see this here. Why's there an object in here, I wondered. Until I realised the game sees this as a person. So, yep. That's the moment I realised there's an actual sim in here.

There's a bit more stuff in this file (most notably the Texture Overlay XML) that wouldn't fit in this post because of the 10 images limit... but fun fact, our secret sim has grey eyes! Wow!

THE CONCLUSION

Phew, that was a rollercoaster!

I didn't dare actually loading the game with these files (mostly out of fear that secret sim will haunt my dreams forever...) but as you can see in this post, the reuploaded files from Linda are completely fucked. No way around it. These aren't nail files, they're probably nail files merged with a whole-ass sim.

I'm not too knowledgeable on the subject of sims or BHAVs, but this is what Part 1 of my research has yielded and it's made me pretty fucking terrified. How long have people been downloading this 'leaked' stuff only for it to corrupt their game? It makes me wonder how many neighborhoods were lost to 'corruption' that was actually reuploaded Lindasims2 files...

For now, if you have thought about sailing the seven seas to get Linda's Sims 2 CC, I would recommend reevaluating that idea. Unless you want your game to be destroyed like @dystiopianam's and several others.

aga was kind enough to link me to some pre-2020 files of Linda's and they seem OK (so far...) but I would also not recommend supporting Linda on Patreon until we have proof that these files weren't corrupted by her, but by whoever reuploaded them to SimFileShare.

Also, it's not just the mesh file that's corrupted, in case you thought that. Nope, the recolor files have also been given the hidden sim treatment.

I can't really get my thoughts straight right now and really wanted to make this post before I forgot or the hidden sims came to murder me in bed, but for now, cheerio. I'll be back with more 'what the heck is in these files' ASAP!

#lindasims2 #s2cc #sims 2 cc #ts2 cc #important info #the lindasims research and experimentation #how do u tag these sorts of posts #sims 2 research #sims 2 alert

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roseofhybrids · 28 days

Note

Drone Tessa AU idea:

When Cyn turned Tessa into a robot she decided at first to let her keep her human skin in order to disguise her alterations from her family.

Unfortunately she forgot to keep in consideration the lack of senses and the fact that human eyes aren’t pitch black visors and so she had to take it off of her once Tessa find out what she did and began to rip it off in a moment of madness.

Hey, look! The Elliot's daughter managed to make it out alive! Seems like she's doing ok:

(TesCYN continues to not beat the furby allegations)

for the eyes and senses

we know from CYN's puppy dog eyes in episode 5 that the drones can display full color images on their visors. So in theory, she could make fake human eyes on the display. Ala lego mario here:

Realistically speaking, I don't think anyone would be tricked into thinking they're real. But if the adults are paying so little attention that they can't notice the fact that she's a drone with skin wrapped around it, then maybe it could work.

The senses though are tricky.

Drones seem to have at least some sense of touch. Though, since the skin's nerves have presumably been separated from her brain, I'd imagine it feeling like she's wearing gloves, a mask, et cetera. (notably, something she'd have less reason to question if she were in the astronaut suit)

We've seen the drone's HUDs a view times, which are always tinted their lights color, and have some visual snow. But we know they can still discern color through V's reference to Uzi as purple and Doll as red. I think that would be one of the first things a human would notice. Unless CYN removes the UI elements, and we take the creative liberty to assume that since the drones can discern color that it would trick Tessa's brain into thinking nothing's wrong? It really depends on how long you want her to not know she's a robot. (another thing that the space suit could help with. If one puts some flavor text in about the helmet having some sort of UI)

Sound, I don't think we've seen anything to suggest the drone's hearing is too different from a human's. Can hear each other speak alright, react to sound cues, enjoy listening to nightcore and panic at the disco.

Taste, I mean. They do have tongues and N describes oil as sweet, so?

Scent here is a bit interesting. Because I can't recall any scenes where the drones have referenced the smell of anything. Not uncommon in any story, especially visual ones like video. It's just something we can forget about easily. For organic characters, we can assume they can, but with robots it's a little up in the air. They don't have visible noses, though there are animals that smell through their mouths rather than nostrils (snakes, lizards, some mammals have extra scent abilities alongside their noses, see "flehmen response"). Would the company have a reason to give them a sense of smell? Would the solver have a reason to? At the same time, it's not unheard of for humans to lose their sense of smell through injury or illness. So it would be possible to not have it without your first thought being "oh shit I've been turned into a robot" (and would you look at that another thing the space suit could cover up. If you're in an airtight suit, why question the fact that you can't smell all the corpses around you? Maybe question why you can't smell your own sweat in there, but that's more a blessing than a curse)

In terms of tricking people into thinking Tessa is human, including Tessa herself. That suit can account for a lot of things.

#murder drones #murder drones au #human uzi #drone tessa #md episode 7

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lovely-showtimes · 2 months

Note

Hehe… silly request time… Can you do Tsukasa, Airi, and Haruka x a reader who is “self-aware” (self-aware in this instance meaning they know they’re in a game)? It’s okay if not (^_^)

♡ . self aware.

characters - haruka, airi.

type - scenario.

warnings - unreality.

a/n - i'm so sorry that this took so long T_T i wanted to get to this earlier because i think 'self aware characters' as a concept is very interesting !!! but my brain wouldnt let me write unfortunately... haruka might be ooc, despite how much i love them im very unfamiliar with mmj as characters & their stories </3 i'm also sorry for not doing tsukasa for this one, i wanted to include him and i originally did have an idea for his section, but i took so long to write this i forgot what it was ... i hope you enjoy anyway!

"Do you see anything you like?" You call over your shoulder, turning your attention away from the sweatshirts in front of you.

Airi stands by several dresses, scrutinising them. The two of you decided to go out shopping together, as you felt like your wardrobe was lacking. Airi was eager to help, confident in her sense of style that she can get you something nice, as well as something for herself.

Her brow creases in thought and she stops in front of one particular dress.

"C'mere for a sec," she calls back to you, and you walk over. Airi steps to the side, gesturing to the dress with a furrowed brow.

"Have I worn this before?" She asks. "I mean, I doubt you'd know, but still. It feels so familiar, but I also feel like I've never seen it before."

You squint at the dress. That's right... you recognise it, don't you?

"You wore that in the trained version of your Re-tie Friendship card, didn't you?" You comment quietly. "I liked that one, it was pretty."

Airi goes quiet for a few moments. You catch a befuddled look on her face out of the corner of your eye. "...Excuse me? What's a 'Re-tie Friendship card'...?"

You spin to face her, eyes wide. "Eh? It was your third focus event. Don't you remember it?"

Her confusion only grows. "What on earth are you saying? No, I don't remember it."

Your eyes lock for a brief period of time, the two of you studying each other for a single hint of what the other was talking about. Then, it hits you.

"Oh!" You gasp. "You didn't know about the whole game thing...? I thought everybody knew, but we weren't supposed to talk about it."

The fact of your entire life being a simple game was one you've always been aware of. You had never tried to bring it up to anyone else, or research it before. It had never occurred to you - it was as obvious a fact as saying "the sky is blue".

Airi shakes her head, placing a hand on her temples. "You're making no sense! What game thing?"

You open your mouth to respond, but you hesitate. Should you really elaborate on what you mean? Maybe it's for the best that you don't tell Airi about your shared existence within a game. It might be a bit much to take in all at once.

Maybe another time.

You smile brightly and shake your head. "Oh, you know what? I just realised, I was thinking of something else. Oopsies! Ignore me."

"...Right." Confusion and slight frustration still lingers on Airi's face, but she sighs and shakes her head. You're probably just referencing something from some game you like, right? Maybe she should look into it later, to understand what you just said to her.

Airi's gaze drifts back to the dress once more. That feeling of déjà vu still hovers in the recesses of her mind when she gazes at it, and it's unsettling. Maybe she should look for something different to wear.

"I had the strangest dream last night," Haruka comments, staring at the sandwich in her hands thoughtfully. The sun shines down on you both as you sit on a warm, grassy hill on a red-and-white checkered blanket.

You beam brightly, head tilted curiously. You swallow the bite of food in your mouth. "Oh? What happened?"

"I was dancing to a song I've never heard before. It was in a completely different style than we usually dance to as well, it was quite mellow and calm. I was dancing with a few other people too... Kohane, Ichika, and two other people I didn't recognise... a girl with grey-ish green hair, and a boy with ginger hair."

Haruka shakes her head. "How strange. And the weirdest part was, when I woke up, I remember thinking 'Ah, another one of those dreams'. I haven't dreamt of anything like that before."

She takes a thoughtful bite of her sandwich.

You can't help laughing a little at her bizarre dream. "I always have those dreams! The people who play this game like to make us dance with the other characters. It's quite fun, I like trying to think of what kind of person makes me dance to a certain song with certain people."

You tap your chin curiously. "Perhaps they like to think of me and the others in a romantic relationship? Perhaps they like to think of a different scenario where we are in a band together? Perhaps they feel romantically towards me? It's so interesting."

You chuckle to yourself once more, taking another bite of food. Goodness, it's so tasty. The work the two of you put together to create this whole picnic really paid off! You were especially looking forward to trying those cupcakes, you put a little extra love into each of them! In particular, you-

"Love, what game? What- What are you talking about?"

Haruka's voice snaps you out of your thoughts. Her gaze is full of confusion and concern for you. Her grip on her sandwich has gotten just a little tighter.

You simply gaze back at her as if it's all perfectly normal. "The game we're in. You didn't know?"

Silence hangs in the air. Haruka's gaze shifts around, landing on you for a moment or two before looking away.

Eventually, she clears her throat and nods, deciding to play along. "Right! Of course, I remember now. How could I have forgotten?"

Your joke had unsettled her a little, but she decides to just shake it off. That's all it was, anyway. You're just joking, aren't you?

...Aren't you?

#♡ ~ love letter sent!#virtualnetwork #project sekai x reader #momoi airi x reader #airi momoi x reader #kiritani haruka x reader #haruka kiritani x reader

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possiblylando · 9 months

Text

Chainsaw Man Chapter 139 'Early' Analysis

Finally we're back into the fun chapters.

So this is a bit of interesting confirmation as to what happened at the end of Part 1. As a recap Pochita separated from Denji and become the Black Chainsaw man.

This confirms that the Hybrids that fought Pochita all retained the memories of the events. It also makes the weird Makima self insert fanfiction even more weird. Based on what Miri (Sword Man) says about regaining his freedom after Makima's death, they all seemed to be completely aware of their actions but unable to fight against them.

He MADE them say this shit. They are all aware of this having happened. THEY WERE AWARE WHILE THEY WERE FORCED TO PLAY THIS SHIT OUT! Fucking Nightmare scenario. Glad Denji ate her.

We get a name of Sword Man, Miri Sugo. We also get some more of his personality. I'm sure there will be speculation as to his sexuality because he's a character in chainsaw man.

What I do wanna touch on is this. I've seen a few interpretations of this line. It's a weirder one because it's clearly referencing the fact Miri's design is a reused version of Denji's beta versions.

But it could also mean they find Denji attractive. BUT it could also be a meta reference to the fact they're both hybrids, So they have similar "Auras" or something like that. I actually didn't remember who the student council president was so I had to look it up, And it's fucking Iseumi.

and honestly, I can kind of see how a combination of him and Denji would make Miri. Miri took Iseumi's eyes and hair color while he took the hair and head shape from Denji. Sorta interesting.

This whole scene strikes me as weird from a fandom perspective. Either people use it to say, "Miri is gay" or "Miri hates women". When in reality it doesn't seem to be either (for now). He literally stated moments ago that he didn't want to be bothered by anyone and these three girls come up and start bugging him with questions and requests he doesn't want to deal with. Most people would be annoyed as hell if this scenario happened to them. Denji obviously doesn't get this and is just mad that he's getting female attention.

I'm going to assume that this is still Denji hustling and this SEX OFFENDER paid him. I REALLY hope that he didn't just let her do this for free. We get full confirmation that the Weapon Hybrids are alive. We don't have confirmation as to which, Just that some of them are. I assume this probably means all the hybrids that fought against Pochita are alive.

oh I HATEEEEEEE how she gets along with Denji.

This woman needs to get the fuck off this MINOR

As much as I despise this woman, She has a point. Fami and some unknown figure have been puppeteering the Church (how realistic) for at least the past few days. It's likely been going on since the church was founded since we see Fami with the devil hunter club.

We get a look at Denji's full speed. This means Denji was able to perception blitz Miri to appear in front of him without him noticing. This means that Denji was able to move at approximately Mach 32. All of this is real look none of this up Denji solos demon slayer or whatever fuckin power scaling bullshit.

Looks like the next few chapters will be built around the church. It also likely means we'll be seeing Reze soon. If Asa is also there, I hope this doesn't turn into some wack love triangle shit. I REALLY hope Reze isn't like "You were trying to date other girls while you thought I was dead??". I have faith Fujimoto will handle it well but it has an un-ignorable chance to becoming fucking awful.

#chainsaw man #miri sugo #denji hayakawa #csm #csm 139

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mostlydeadallday · 8 months

Text

Lost Kin | Chapter XXXVI | So Thin a Thread

Fandom: Hollow Knight Rating: Mature Characters: Hornet, Pure Vessel | Hollow Knight, Quirrel Category: Gen Content Warnings: dissociation, description of injuries, past abuse, flashbacks, unintentional misgendering, panic attacks, referenced child death, intrusive thoughts, unwanted touch AO3: Lost Kin | Chapter XXXVI | So Thin a Thread First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Chronological Notes: Hornet makes a mistake. Hollow suffers the consequences.

Writing has slowed down recently due to receiving some monster edits (nervous laughter) and also due to having a houseguest. I've also encountered a lot of foreshadowing issues that I had previously said "nah, I'll save that for later" about and guess what? now it's later (I'm fine)

○

Quirrel was slipping. Hornet did not know him well, not enough to tell what it was that took up space behind his distant eyes, but she could see that it was something other than the present moment’s concerns.

She did not need this. She needed him here. She needed to know if this would work.

Hollow did not like him. Again, she had not dared to hope for much, but she had thought, perhaps, that they would not find him objectionable. His presence was steady, calming. Respectful in a way she could not quite quantify. Certainly he had a better bedside manner than hers. He had done nothing wrong that she could see—although he handled Hollow as if they were wrought of glass, he spoke to them like any other traveler he might meet along his way.

They might have been on a path toward accepting him; she could not tell. Not now that she had ruined it, though she still did not fully understand how.

Her sibling was locked down as tightly as she had ever seen them, refusing to even shift their gaze to follow her. Their throat crackled with each regimented breath, fist closed, claws tucked away where she could not see them twitch. They refused to react to her voice, to lean into her touch. They refused to do anything at all.

It was no use grasping at why they had reacted so strongly. They could not tell her, and any guesses she made would be pure speculation at best.

The best she could do was sit at their side, stroke their horns, and hope that she was providing something of a distraction, rather than contributing to the strain. They did not object to Quirrel’s touch, exactly, but they did not relax into it, as they often had before, with her. It was gentle, businesslike, carrying no intention of comfort—

But then again, neither had hers, at first.

They were not pulling away, though she’d given them leave to. She tried to content herself with that, as Quirrel slowly shifted from drying their shell to a closer inspection of the wounds she had cleaned, touching lightly, in case they were still tender.

She wasn’t sure how they could fail to be. Soul healing aside, they were still bereft of shell, and she winced as Quirrel ever-so-cautiously probed at the twisted scars and pockmarks in their charcoal-colored skin.

Hollow did not. There was no indication that they were not lost in their own mind somewhere, except that this was exactly how they had been while under her knife, and to take that inaction for apathy had been a grievous mistake.

Slowly, she reached down and pulled their hand into her lap, brushing their knuckles with her thumb, waiting for any indication that they might lash out at Quirrel, as they had attempted to do with her. No matter the guilt they appeared to feel regarding that action, no matter that she had deserved it. She would not risk her ally’s life on so thin a thread as this.

Quirrel looked up and met her eye, one hand keeping contact with her sibling’s side, below the worst of the injury. “This is good work,” he said, and when she glanced aside, he added, “I know you are not proud of it. Nonetheless, there was little else that could be done. And I would be hard-pressed to find anyone alive in this kingdom who could do better.”

She had nothing to say to that. I should have been gentler or I shouldn’t have rushed it or I should’ve noticed that it hurt them—all lodged below the lump in her throat that she knew would squeeze her voice thin if she tried.

He did not comment, although he did clear his throat uncomfortably in a poor attempt to break the stillness before going back to his task.

“These, here.” He indicated one of the empty blisters, the largest of them, looking like nothing more than a burst waterskin, empty and shriveled. Though not quite the right color to match Hollow’s skin, it was close enough that she suspected it had originally been part of them. He lifted the upper corner of it, showing her where it was separating from their shoulder like a dried-out scab. “They’re beginning to detach. I’d advise removing them before you continue.”

She nodded, unsure if she could manage anything more. Thankfully, he accepted her silence and moved on to the active infection in Hollow’s chest. He refrained from touching the swollen growths, only laying his hand down to measure them against the shrunken, half-filled sacs that had reappeared a day or so after her efforts.

“You did well to wait, I think, before attempting more.” He spoke almost absently, peering closer at the dull, diluted color of the looser cysts. “As hostile as the infection is to all forms of life, I recall that it seemed to have an especial antipathy to void.”

“Oh?”

“Well, yes.” He straightened. “The two are diametric opposites. Soul-based life was the primary target. As both are forms of light, the process of infection was simple. Void, however, proved extremely difficult to contaminate. Soul and void can co-exist, even synergize. But void and infection, or, more properly, void and dream, cannot. They are in constant conflict. One will always snuff out the other.”

Hornet had to take a moment before she could speak again. Her hand had tightened on Hollow’s without her knowledge.

When had she grown so attached? She could not point to a single moment. Not the first time they fell asleep under her hands, or the first time they spoke to her, or the moment she awoke sheltered in their arms. But somewhere in between, sometime during the mundane work of keeping her sibling alive, she had begun to see them as more than an obligation, more than a debt she must pay. When she imagined the Old Light extinguishing what life remained within them, it was not only the thought of her work being wasted that made her gut roil with cold, sick anger.

“And yet you say I did well to wait,” she muttered, unable to keep that anger from tainting her voice.

Careful. Hollow did not need to think that she was angry at them again, and it would only confuse Quirrel if assumed her wrath was meant for him instead.

Fortunately, he seemed too taken with his theory to have noticed. “I believe so. The synthesis of void and soul is more resistant to dream than either alone. Hence the creation of vessels.” He paused, glanced at her. “What you have done is given the void a chance to regroup and fight back against the intrusion. As well as forced the infection to concentrate at the surface, rather than raging unchecked as fever through their body.”

Hollow’s breath shuddered briefly. Her attention snapped to them, to the break in the pattern of repression, but they gave her no more—only stared at the ceiling, their fist half-clenched in her lap, their mask lying still beneath her hand.

“That said,” Quirrel continued, oblivious, “I would not wait much longer. Allowing the infection to persist will do more harm than good, now.”

“I know,” she whispered. There was more that she intended to say, but the enormity of the situation rushed over her and she could not breathe.

She would have to hurt them again. She would have to cut them apart and pull poison from their veins, and the worst part was that they trusted her to do it, had trusted her even while she laid them open, and afterward when she left them alone in a dark room with their wounds still bleeding, when she should have been there to console them, to make up in some trivial way for what she had done—

Someone said her name, soft and expectant, and for a blank, thoughtless instant she thought it could have been Hollow, until she shook herself and lifted her head, and it was Quirrel, of course it was Quirrel.

“Tomorrow,” she said. “I-I will do it tomorrow.”

Quirrel looked like he might want to say more, but he only bowed his head and removed his hands from her sibling’s shell. “Of course. I think… that would be best.”

○

It did not move.

This was as it had always been. As it always should be. It lay still for examinations. It lay still for the spells to weave over and around and through its body. It lay still when it was alone, when the walls and ceiling shone so brightly and for so long that its eyes burned, when all its joints ached from the chill of the marble and the core-deep scars of blade and soul. And it lay still when the others were there, whether its father’s cold, careful hands were working over it, or the warm, blunt, indifferent touch of the scholars and spellwrights. It lay still.

No one had ever held its hand while it lay there. No one ever saw a need to.

And it never had needed it, before now.

Its sister’s touch was constant, distracted but continuous. A slow rasp of her palm along the inner curves of its horns. A graze of her thumb over the crack through its eye. A warm weight on the back of its hand, with an occasional stroke across its knuckles.

It should feel ashamed of what she knew of it, of how quickly she had picked out its weaknesses and made use of them, turning fault against fault, keeping it calm with just the tangible pressure of her presence.

Or as calm as it could be. Though the warmth of her beside it was more comfort than it had ever dared to ask for, every brush of the scholar’s hands across its shell made the void beneath churn with unease.

He did not call himself a scholar, he had said, but the cadence of his words and the paths of his thoughts were identical to the ones that it had known, enough so that the distinction meant little. His touch, too, was… familiar. In a way that it intimately remembered. It could not stop its own response to that. It could do nothing about that at all. Everything about him was gentle, every word well-measured and softly spoken, and yet it could not stifle the expectation that—

That what? There would be pain? There was always pain, even though its sister had done everything she could to reclaim its body from the light. Every breath, every heartbeat hurt; it could not remember the last time its own existence had been painless.

No, it was not pain that its fragile body feared. What, then?

It was not meant to be examining its own thoughts like this. It was not meant to have thoughts to examine, or a mind to examine them with.

Yet it was already corrupted, far too faulty for its original use. Should it put those faults to use to better serve its wielders? If it could not now be sacrificed again, if its impurity had damned it, what else could it be used for? If that use demanded anything like its former standard of control, it was already doomed to fail.

Perhaps that was irrelevant. It could not stop its cursed mind stirring, any more than it could stop the twist and writhe of void beneath Quirrel’s hand. But it would not crack where he could see, would not let loose the terror that strained to break free, would not—

Was this what it feared? This newcomer becoming aware of its faults? His gaze was as sharp as his mind, piercing it through to its essence. He was certain to find out. There seemed to be only so long it could go without descending into helpless panic. But though that familiar fear pulsed beneath its mask now, it was not alone; there was another joining it. A new fear, too bright to see directly, as sharp and hot as the invading light, and just as damning.

He knew of vessels, its sister had said. He had worked beside the Teacher-Dreamer Monomon. He—

“These marks.” Quirrel’s voice came from near its knees; it could not see him well, not with its head resting stiffly on the pillows placed to keep its horns off the floor. “They’re left by offensive soul-spells, yes?”

“Yes.”

“Mm.” His warm hand skimmed across its shell, then lifted. The pain that woke under his touch was different than the rest, a slow-burning throb that sank down through its shell and into the flesh beneath. “Thankfully, these should heal without intervention. The damage to their legs goes deep, but will right itself with time.”

That word again. Their. A crooked plate, a limb out of joint. Its sister and the scholar spoke over it, as it was familiar with, but they did not do so as they should. As it expected. As it had always heard before.

It… was not to respond in any way. It must remind itself of that. The way its wielder referred to it was none of its concern. It understood that people often grew attached to inanimate things: weapons, tools. That did not make those things deserving of affection, or of respect. It was not deserving of this way that they spoke of it, or the gentleness with which they handled it, or the needless comfort its sister insisted on bestowing.

She had paused as he explained, her hand falling still on its horn. Deserving or not, it could not stop its tension spiraling higher, a painful pressure swelling in its chest, independent of the mass of light that still beat there. This was all its own: its own weakness, its own twisted desire, a desire it had not known it had—a gnawing hunger acknowledged only after it was sated.

She resumed after a moment, and the pressure eased—fortunately before the strain in its tattered lungs could give it away. Its heart settled back into rhythm, pain drumming in its mask with every rapid beat.

It could endure this. This was a test like any other. A test simple enough that, even in its broken state, it would be a disgrace to fail.

Previously, there would have been no question of its ability. Inspections were routine, especially between molts, or after healing from wounds acquired in training. This was unnervingly similar, in fact. The whispering rain, the persistent ache of its missing arm, and the idle touches on its face and hand grounded it in the present, but in many other ways, it could have been laid out upon a marble slab in the Palace while its father’s assistants performed one of their many assessments.

But why would the press of his hands and the weight of his gaze sicken it so? Simply because he was a scholar, like the many others it had known, faces and masks that came and went, voices and words that meant nothing more to it than the motes of drifting soul? Had it feared them then, and merely forgotten, or denied itself the knowledge of that weakness?

It should have no reason to fear a scholar. They were merely the hands of its father, instructed by him to bring it closer to its intended perfection. And yes, their touch had often hurt—but then again, so had his.

Its body was determined to ignore these facts. Its body wanted to shrink away, to press back into the blankets, to cringe from the touch that stirred some urge within it that it did not understand.

The past felt close, closer than it had for an age, as if the vessel could reach out and pierce the membrane with its claws, allowing its former life to bleed through to the present like the insides of an egg.

If only it could summon the clarity and stillness with which it had once been so familiar. If only it did not require the constant stroke of its sister’s hand along its horns to keep it calm.

If only it could pretend to be empty once more.

“What I wouldn’t give for a clock,” the scholar muttered. “And a thermometer.” His hand was on its shell again, just above its hip, and it suffered through a wave of nausea that threatened to sweep it away. Its heartbeat surged.

He could feel none of that, the vessel knew, from his palm against its plating. He did not know of its fear.

“A what?” Hornet asked.

“Thermometer? A device that monitors temperature, using predictable expansion in certain liquids.” His hand moved higher, closer to the infection, and he was silent for a moment before shaking his head. “The Madam sponsored its development. It was, among other things, a much more precise method for detecting fevers, which proved useful in the early stages of infection.” He sighed, stepped back, and raised one hand to his chin. “Unfortunately, the plague progressed too quickly for such things. They never became common, and I would not know where to find one.”

Its sister hummed, politely sympathetic, and it felt the way her voice moved through her body, the ripple of sound transferring to its mask through the weight of her hand. A nameless warmth unfurled over it, a strained, aching sweetness rising to answer the pull of her voice upon it, something inside it reaching up toward her, longing to be seen. She did not seem to notice anything amiss, even as it fought to bury the feeling. “And the clock?”

The silence lasted a beat too long. Quirrel took a long breath. “A clock, or a chronometer, measures the passage of—”

“I know what a clock is,” Hornet interrupted. A tautness had crept into her posture, her hand going stiff before she breathed out, low, faintly hissing, and relaxed. “Why do you need one?”

“Ah. Um.”

The scholar had the sense to be taken aback, at least. Its sister was formidable, whether armed with steel, silk, or nothing at all, and she did not take kindly to insults, even unwitting ones.

She had been the cause of many muttered oaths from its father shortly after her arrival in the Palace. The royals had soon learned that their glancing slights were met with bared fangs and an immediate invitation to duel—and, later, a reprimand from their monarch, scribed into stone with the king’s seal glowing in the corner. The vessel itself had witnessed multiple offenses and as many quick rebukes, as well as its father’s frustration: the tightness in his voice as he dictated the messages, the stiffness in his shoulders as he pushed aside guard reports and City maintenance projects to reach for his notes and missives on Deepnest.

Its sister came from a strange culture, it knew. A place far less refined than the palace, wilder and darker than anywhere within the borders of the kingdom. Its father’s light did not shine there, and his laws held no sway. It was no surprise that such a land’s inhabitants would be fierce and hardy, quick to strike with both their weapons and their words.

When Quirrel spoke again, it was muted, perhaps in tacit apology. That seemed wise. Perhaps she would not need to challenge him after all. “A clock would be helpful in much the same way a thermometer would. I would very much like to establish a baseline—temperature, duration of sleep, heart rate, respiratory function. Without having precise measurements of time, however, much of that information would be subjective. Guesswork, at best.”

“Guesswork is better than nothing,” Hornet said. “Can we start now?”

The tension was back in her shoulders, in her arm with every stroke, and it felt a similar strain drawing its body tight despite her efforts.

It had known that it would be exposed, but it had hoped—do not—it had thought, perhaps—do not—

No, no, it was broken, defective, it could not help but think, but hope, and it had hoped that this would not come so soon. If he intended to pin it down, to measure and catalog its faults, it had no choice but to submit; its sister wanted this, regardless of how the prospect made the void twist and knot within it.

“We can,” Quirrel mused. His voice was warbling, distant, and the vessel attempted to refocus, to bring the world back into clarity. To control that which it no longer had a grasp of—regardless of how steadily it breathed, how intensely it stared at the ceiling, the beat within its chest sped higher, and a bright haze crept farther and farther into its vision. “It will certainly suffice until we can do better.”

“Then what should I do?”

Hornet stopped petting it, her hand unmoving on its mask, and it nearly pressed its face into her touch, nearly begged for her to have mercy on it. No, it could not do that, it must endure, should not even need this comfort in the first place. Lie still. Lie still.

“Heart rate should be simple to record, if you know of a place to take it.”

“I have an idea.”

Lie still. It had only to lie still. It had only to obey, to push its fears away, to breathe in and out and ignore the sensation of its traitorous, fluttering heart attempting to beat free of its ribs. It could not hide any longer, though it wanted to; it wanted to crawl into the dark and curl into itself and press its face to its knees until the world disappeared.

Why, why was this so difficult, why was its mind a labyrinth of blades and spikes and thorns, hostile at every turn, why was this one thing enough to take it apart when it had experienced the same and worse, much, much worse before—

Its sister tugged on its horn. She was whispering something soft; its own name, the name she had given it, surfaced from beneath the enclosing fog, but it could hear nothing else besides the ringing in its skull. Her grasp was gentle, not enough to truly stir it, but it moved with her, obeying, as it was meant to.

She inched closer, crossing her knees beneath her and guiding it onto its side. As she laid its head in her lap, it felt the warmth of her legs against its cheek through the thick weave of her cloak. Its hand was still trapped beneath hers, it could not pull away, no matter that she had told it that it might; it would not.

This was what she wanted for it. She wished to know of its flaws; it was powerless to hide them from her. She wished for this scholar to record its faults; it must allow him to do so.

Please please please—it would obey, it would be good—

Sister’s claws brushed beneath its chin. Just the barest touch, before she grasped its jaw and tilted its head up, exposing its throat.

No. NO.

Her wrist rested on its mask, holding it still, her fingers draped over its jaw, across its mouth, trusting, trusting it—

She should not. There was a hiss building in its throat, a crawling itch inside in its teeth. It should hold still, it should not move, but its instincts drove a hot current beneath its shell, a crackling charge that set every plate on edge.

It felt the buzz of her voice through its mask. She spoke to the scholar, and he stepped closer, a bluish blur against the shadows in the room—

Four eyes staring down at it. Pale knife in a pale hand.

It felt the thrum of void through its throat, swift and thin, and the pulse of pain through its cracked mask, and—

The press of soul-bands round its wrists.

Wrists not its own, hands too small, claws chipped, cracked, and worn blunt, carving valleys in the marble—

The chill of void-loss in its limbs.

Far more void than it had ever lost, far more cold than it had ever felt, the final chill of a death it had never been granted—

The echo of its breath: panting, panting, panting.

It knew, suddenly, with the swift certainty of lightning and the finality of thunder. It knew what the scholar was here for.

He had come to finish it.

○

Something was wrong.

Perhaps it was only because she was holding Hollow’s face in her lap, but Hornet felt a chill spreading through her. This pose was meant to offer Quirrel a better view as she took their pulse, with their head across her legs to bare their throat. She’d been prepared to reconsider if they seemed hesitant, but they had gone with her almost eagerly, she thought. Now, though, the skin beneath her fingers was drawn taut, and a nervous spasm rippled down their throat, shifting their jaw until she felt the grate of their teeth through her shell.

This was a spectacularly bad idea.

The impression came too quickly for her to do anything more than lift her head and draw breath to speak; Quirrel was already too close, reaching down to steady himself as he knelt in front of her, and an icy certainty pierced her mind—Hollow was going to hurt him, and there was nothing she could do.

Her grip curled tighter on their mask, claws clenching, a helpless reflex that would do no good against their strength, their speed, their terror that she had not sensed until too late—

She nearly shouted as Hollow jerked back. Quick as a wasp, moving far faster than she’d thought them still capable of. She nearly did not have time to let go, nearly hooked and dragged her claws into their throat as they yanked their head away from her.

Blind fear took hold. She scrambled back, shoving Quirrel to the side, bowling him over and out of reach. Soul flooded to her fingers, cold air pouring into her lungs, vision narrowed to the white of Hollow’s mask and the black daggers of their claws. Now, they would strike out, her instincts cried. Now they would lurch up and snap at her, knock her over and pin her down, drive those void-touched talons straight into her heart.

Nothing. Nothing but the slow curl of her sibling’s shoulders into a mortified hunch, and the sudden, rough sawing of their breath through their throat as they began to sob.

Quirrel propped himself on one elbow, his confusion bleeding rapidly into shock. “Stay back,” she hissed, already moving. She did not need him trying to help and making things worse. Whatever had set Hollow off this time, his presence had no doubt contributed. She could have cursed herself for pushing them too far, for not noticing how close they stood to the edge.

To his credit—and Hornet’s relief—he did not test her.

She forced his presence from her mind. She wanted to be alone, to comb over her actions and pick out her own faults, but she could not have that, should not even want it. She could not afford to be so selfish, not now.

Instead, she crept back and knelt at Hollow’s side, ignoring their obvious flinch, though the wretched fear in their eyes cut her to the quick. Their chest was heaving, mouth and vents both gaping open as they gulped breath after quivering breath.

She had frightened them. Despite everything, she had forgotten how terribly afraid they were, how little reason they had to trust her. She had asked of them something she doubted she could do herself, a vulnerability she would find more than difficult to show, and lost sight of the fact that they had as much reason as she to object to it.

As much and more. It would be no small thing, to bare her throat to a stranger. And, despite all her scars, she had still not been hurt as deeply as her sibling had.

She’d miscalculated. She’d taken their obedience for granted, and now here they were once again—breathless and scared and expecting far, far worse than she could ever have the heart do to them.

“Hollow,” she breathed, and the way her voice shook was not important, not important at all. She reached for them, incautiously, hoping against hope that whatever misplaced loyalty they held for her would not fail her now. And when they flinched again, her fragile calm nearly shattered, except that they halted before pulling further away, seeming to hold themselves down against the bed as if bound there.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, “I’m sorry,” and she didn’t know why it was so easy now, why it took seeing her sibling shaking and fighting to breathe before she could say it, but she meant it, meant it for all the times she had been too proud to say it before. “I didn’t mean—I didn’t—”

All the rest of her air escaped in a meaningless rush, pushing out of her throat like a sob of her own, but she couldn’t cry now. Quirrel was there, still in the room, and more importantly, Hollow needed her. Needed her to be present, as she had not been before, needed her not to ignore their distress for the sake of easing her own.

They had not taken a full breath since pulling away from her, trapped in the same quick, shallow rhythm that she remembered from the day they had first spoken of their own accord. She wanted nothing more than to take hold of them and drag them free somehow, but they’d already flinched away from her once; she did not think she could take it if they did so again.

Instead, she slowly reached down to touch their hand, giving them time to expect it, although the void behind their eyes still spasmed at her touch.

“Easy,” she said. “Easy, I’m here. You’re—you are safe.”

Something caught in their throat at that, a high, choked-off keen wavering just at the edge of her hearing. Behind her, Quirrel groaned softly, a sound of heart-torn sympathy that she hadn’t the space to think about now.

Turning their hand until she could slip her own into it, she wrapped her fingers around as many of theirs as she could manage, squeezing tight, offering what she could—something to hold onto, an anchor against the encroaching tide. Her own heart was racing still, and she could think of nothing that would fix this.

They trusted her. And her actions had worn that trust thin enough to snap.

She could do nothing now but reach out again, spinning a single thread over empty space and hoping it would hold.

Hornet had to swallow once before she could speak. She would not push forward again, not until she knew they would accept it, not until she could be sure she was not terrifying them. She would have to try something else. She would have to talk them through it.

Could they even hear her? Whatever panic had them lying rigid in its jaws, it was bad enough that their vacant stare went right through her, the movement of the void within their mask erratic and unfocused, as unstable as their breath, as the helpless quiver in their hand, even as she tried to hold it steady.

“Listen. Listen to me,” she said, and try as she might, the words came stilted, distant, nowhere near as strong and sure as they needed her to be.

It would have to be enough.

○

Someone was speaking to it.

It could not answer—would not—could not. Was an answer expected of it? That was not right; it was not meant to answer, surely. It was a test—another test—

Another test that it would fail, another way in which it was broken, another flaw, another crack in its façade—

When would it happen? It should feel the blade at its throat at any moment now. It was damaged, dangerous; it could not be trusted, not even with the smallest of the tasks it had once performed with ease. Not even with the first orders that had been given it.

Lie still.

It could not bear the strain any longer. It could not push back the growing fear. That was plain to see now, when it could not even hold itself together for the simplest examination, when the presence of a single scholar in the room was enough to send it into madness.

Madness it was, truly; the vessel had no cause to act on its own, no grounds to do what it had done. And oh, even thinking of it was enough to make the vessel cower, to make its head go light, to squeeze the air from its aching lungs in a silent cry that none would ever hear.

It had defied its sister’s will. It had pulled away from her, resisted her purpose for it, and it should be punished. It could not be trusted, and she knew that—her instincts served her well, to push away from it. The appalling nature of its actions was proof of its treacherous nature. It no longer knew what it might do.

Its mind was an uproar, a chaotic clamor of panic and pain and things better left forgotten, things it had not even known it could remember anymore.

The scholar had made to approach it, and its sister had stretched its head out upon her lap, and it had thought—

It had almost seen, flickering before his face, another. It had almost felt blunt fingers on its skin. And it had known what would be next. The cold bite of a soul-blade, the numbing bitterness of void. The desperate surge of a thoughtless, maddened shade against its bonds—

A trace of warmth against its hand. It could not see, not truly; what should have been a high, arched room washed in blue was nothing but a blur filled with flickering shadows. And its sister’s voice as she tried to comfort it—to comfort it—quavered like a fading song, its hearing gone as vague and faithless as its sight.

“Easy,” it heard, and then, “I’m here,” and the simple solace in her words crushed its chest tight, wringing another soundless whine from its throat. She was trying, again, to give it what it never should have needed, and it hurt, and the vessel did not know why.

It should have been far beyond asking why it suffered. Far beyond trying to make sense of its pain. But this was something new. Somehow, even after enduring every whim of the goddess, every taunt and torture she could fathom, there were still ways it could be hurt, fresh wounds opening alongside old scars that had long ceased to bleed.

It was a terror to be seen, to be known. It was a long-feared, wrenching horror to be something capable of being known. And yet the fear was not simple, not any longer. There was something else, now, something deeper, something hot and heavy and ready to crush it.

It was no longer only afraid that its sister wished to understand it. It was afraid that she would stop.

What had she done to it?

Between one choking breath and another, her hand wrapped around its own, her grip tighter than she had held it yet, tight enough to startle it—and warm, singing with life against its cold, dead shell. It could not rightly see, or hear, but it could feel this. It could feel her here with it, despite every reason for her to walk away.

Its mind was a broken blade, shards of steel that lay strewn about, still sharp enough to cut a careless hand. This new memory… this thing that it had seen… it was a danger to her, just as the others had been. If it tried to remember, if it tried to forget once more, it made no difference—eventually, it would slip. It would slice itself open on the edge of its own mind, and perhaps this time it would not be the only one to bleed.

She should stay away from it. What was she doing? Why did she not give it what it deserved? It was useless. It kept on disappointing her. It would hurt her, sooner or later. Its frayed control would snap, and she would pay for it.

Why?

“Listen,’’ she said, intent, and her voice sent another tremor through it, another quake through the fractured resolve at its core. “Listen to me.”

Anything. It would do anything for her, as long as it was able.

Her face came into focus before it, beyond the strangling shadows in its vision, beyond the glaring after-images from its past. She was… unsettled, it thought. It heard a quiver in her breath, and her eyes darted over it, again and again, searching with a hunter’s eye for some enemy to seek out and destroy.

There was none, nothing it could offer her, unless she could part it from its terror. It had faith in her; she was quick and strong and clever, but it did not think even she could manage that.

She could not see into its mind—it would not wish her to be witness to the horrors there, all the many ways that the Radiance had warped it, all the dreadful visions that had been forced into its thoughts. Hornet could not see, could not know, all the myriad ways it had found to be afraid, all the traps it had set for itself, its former control turning against it as every step revealed another pitfall.

But this—this was something the Radiance had had no hand in. It was sure of that. The gleam of this new memory was untarnished, untouched by rot; it was one that the goddess had never uncovered or had simply passed by. Whatever terror awaited, it was fully to blame—the grasping tendrils of its past were reaching out to embrace it, to pull it down as soon as it stumbled.

It trembled, briefly, violently, and a soft, hushing chirr left its sister’s throat, a sound that struck it through to its heart.

“You have done well, Hollow,” she said. “You’ve done what I asked. I said that you could pull away from anything you please, as long as I did not tell you otherwise, and that is what you’ve done.”

She did not understand. It would not have done so, had it had any choice—had its fear not seized hold of it, had it not bowed to baser instincts that it thought long worn away. The action was to its shame alone—there was nothing to praise it for.

Whether the phantom it had seen foreshadowed its fate, whether she intended to do away with it or had another use in mind, did not matter. It was created by and for the will of others. Its only purpose was to bow to the whims of those who wielded it, and it had, once again, gone against that, doing something it was never meant to do.

It had stared into the face of its own destruction, and it had flinched.

Foolish, to have ever considered itself a knight. An empty title for an empty being—an empty role, for a thing so filled with faults that it could not live up to any of the names that had been granted to it.

It was not empty. Not as it should have been.

It wheezed again, attempting to lock its breathing down, attempting to do what she wanted, to accomplish one of the few things she had asked of it, pitiful as that effort was now.

In response, she wrapped her other hand around it, too, where its fingers had gone numb, seized by that same terrible, buzzing haze that had invaded its vision. Her voice reached it, pleading, still, trying to calm it. “It’s… it’s all right. Hollow, it’s all right. I’m here.”

Yes, and that was the problem. She should not be. She should leave it behind, for her own good. There was nothing for her here, nothing but disaster.

Its breathing caught up on this snag, a lurching hiccup that it could not quite stifle. Sister’s hand squeezed tighter in return. “I am sorry to have frightened you. You have nothing to fear.”

When she said it, the vessel almost wished it could believe her.

It dared to shift its fingers, to squeeze her hand back, gently, gently, not so much that it would hurt her. The warmth of her grip seemed to thaw it, little by little, sensation reaching back up its arm and toward its frozen heart. And she was whispering to it, still, things that it could barely understand, but with every shift of its fingers in hers she would praise it, stroking its knuckles, offering it little half-heard words of approval, words that made something inside it go as weak as water.

Every breath was lighter than the one before. The fog began to recede, rolling back from its sight like a curtain pulled away from a window. Its sister’s head was tilted, staring intensely into its face, and it recognized the moment she realized that it could see her once more.

“There,” she breathed. “There, that’s it.” Her hands crushed its own, clinging so tightly that it could begin to feel the pricking of her claws into its palm. Nowhere near as large or strong as its own grip, but so warm, so alive—and so fragile.

It could hurt her so easily. It would take so little. A forbidden fear. A misplaced memory. An instinct, long ignored.

But if she did not intend to leave it, it must try. It must learn. To master its own mind, to make itself strong enough to save her. To protect her. To be sparing with its strength, to be soft, as soft as she was with it.

It would try to learn not to fear, if she wished for it to do so. If that was what would keep her safe.

It might be a hopeless cause. The vessel would be afraid forever, it seemed. There was little she could do to change that.

But the faith she placed in it, misguided though that was, almost made it hope it might be wrong.

○

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#lost kin fic #lost kin chapter #hollow knight #hollow knight fanfic #mywriting #hk the hollow knight #hk hornet #hk quirrel #hk

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prince-rowan-of-the-forest · 11 months

Text

To Make a Heaven of Hell (1/?)

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Virgil knew he was dead, somehow.

And somehow death was loud and bright and overwhelming, the people within it were beautiful and diverse and strange and the places big and magical and wonderous.

But it was hard to accept that you are good, after a short life of being told that you are bad.

Sometimes, all it takes is a little help, some hot demons and a whole universe full of new friends and family to get you to accept your paradise.

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| Ao3 | Next Chapter -> |

Fic Warnings: Implied/referenced character death, trauma, homophobia/transphobia mentions, abuse mentions, other canon-typical (to Hell's Belles) heavy topics, canon-typical (to Hell's Belles) violence.

Pairings: Prinxiety, Intrulogical, all canon Hell's Belles relationships.

Notes: Why hello there, I see you've clicked on my silly little crossover hm? I do hope you enjoy!

To any SaSI readers who have no clue what Hell's Belles is, you're welcome to read, I've tried to provide enough exposition that this can be read without prior knowledge but also not too much that the people who DO know the series get frustrated, haha.

Also yeah I know this wasn't what won the polls, but it's my poll I can do whatever I want shush.

This fic may go into heavy topics typical to Hell's Belles, which is the main reason for all the tags, but it shouldn't go too dark for the vast majority of the fic!

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Chapter 1 : What Comes After

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Everything was black, for a long while. Too long, in his opinion. And… empty.

They remembered everything, the pain, the hurt, the struggling and the heartache that had come with their… too-short, lifetime. He remembered the yelling - they had been arguing about something that felt meaningless now - he remembered the screeching of brakes, the smell of burning rubber on the tarmac, the crunching of metal as their car had crashed into another. Oh, he hoped whoever had been in the other car was okay.

And he was… dead. Somehow, in Virgil’s mind, he knew that he was dead,. Even as he hung in this dark void of nothingness, everything and nothing at once, where his feelings felt like they were locked behind a wall of glass, he knew. Eventually - after floating for a time that felt far too long and far too short at the same time - he noticed a door in the dark void. After a moment’s hesitation, they opened it and stepped through.

The sudden presence of bright lights and loud sounds and a massive open space filled with people and… different people was immediately overwhelming. Virgil whirled around and there was no door behind him, nothing showing that he’d come from… somewhere else… at all. The cathedral-like space - though nothing like any cathedral he had ever seen - was amazingly huge, bigger than any building he’d ever been in by far. There were people everywhere, appearing out of nowhere just like they did, sitting, standing, talking with other people and walking around.

“Hey, sweetie, you new?” Someone asked, Virgil turned to see a taller woman whose features they definitely weren’t going to remember, he gestured to himself and she nodded, confirming that she was talking to him.

“Oh, um, yeah? I… think so?” Virgil said after too long of trying to force the words up through his throat, luckily she seemed to be patient enough.

“I can tell, the first time can be really overwhelming,” She said, nodding along, “Whenever you’re ready you can head to that desk over there - they’ll tell you where you need to go.”

“Right,” Virgil nodded, “Um, thank you.”

“You’re welcome, kid,” She smiled, waving as she walked off in the opposite direction, towards a strange-looking hallway.

Looking back around, Virgil faced the desk she had pointed to and found he could see a whole range of people sitting behind it - age, ethnicity, time period, even people who he wasn’t sure were even human. Most of the desks had lines of people waiting and others seemed quieter. He began to walk over before pausing and looking back. They’d just… died. Because their boyfriend had crashed his car. Virgil wondered if he would be following.

When no one they recognised appeared out of thin air after what felt like a few minutes, Virgil let himself breathe a sigh of… what might be relief. He wasn’t here, and that quick realisation… really took a weight off of Virgil’s shoulders.

Taking a deep breath and squaring his shoulders, Virgil walked over to the desk, trying to seem as confident as he possibly could as he approached one of the desks without a line. Granted, he was still completely terrified, but maybe if he pretended to be confident, he would feel it eventually.

A file appeared on the person’s desk as he gestured for Virgil to take a seat in the comfortable chair that stood before the desk. They did so as the other silently flicked through the file with a blank expression on his face, dark green eyes behind thick glasses barely telling a single emotion. His hair was pulled back into a neat bun - though the textured hair seemed to be trying quite hard to escape its confinement. Virgil started to feel a little awkward as he hummed, placing down the file again and looking back up at him. He could see his name glittering on the front page.

“Hello,” He said, “I’m Logan, you’re Virgil Byrne, correct?”

“I- yeah- wait-” Virgil said, raising a hand, out of everything that was happening, there was one thing that really stuck out to him, “That - That file is about me, right?”

“Indeed,” Logan nodded.

“It… it shows my chosen name?”

“The files show the name connected to your soul,” Logan explained, “For most people, that is the name they are given at birth - and usually this remains consistent through lifetimes - however, sometimes souls are placed in the wrong bodies, and therefore end up with the wrong names - along with other things. Virgil is the name your soul identifies with, therefore, that is the name on your file. You should also - as a soul - have a body that more accurately aligns with your gender identity.”

“That’s - wow,” Virgil mumbled, looking down at his hands, he immediately filed that information away to have a crisis about later, “That’s-”

“Overwhelming? It can be,” Logan nodded, “You will have time to process everything later. Are you aware of how you died?”

“I- yeah, yes,” Virgil nodded, “Is this… the afterlife?”

“Part of it, yes, this is the Front Death-k,” Logan grimaced as he spoke the pun and Virgil couldn’t help but smile, “Where new souls come to find out where they are supposed to go next, now, did you follow a religion in life that you were prefer to be judged by?”

“Can’t you see that in the file?” Virgil asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I can, but I prefer to hear the answers from the soul directly,” Logan explained, “Sometimes the religion a person followed in life isn’t the one they want to be judged by.”

“Right, I uh- my family were catholic,” Virgil started, taking a deep breath, “But um, I never really… clicked with it, and I never got the chance to learn enough about other religions to… know.”

“That’s alright,” Logan nodded, “With that, your options would either be to be judged by the Christian belief system, since it’s the one you’re most familiar with, or you can go through universal judgement, or I suppose you could also take a lottery-style pick of any belief system, but the vast majority would rather not.”

“What’s uh- what was the second one?” Virgil tilted their head.

“Universal Judgement: the process most people not connected to a religion go with,” Logan said, “By which you will be judged by the universe itself, hence the name, after which you will either be allocated a paradise or you will have to choose a punishment realm, depending on the outcome.”

“Well that’s not terrifying at all,” Virgil said, trying to offer a joke to hide the fact that the ideas of such a harsh judgement set his hands shaking and his teeth on edge. Well, at least he knew he hadn’t lost his terrible anxiety, even in death.

“No, it’s not,” Logan said, seemingly taking his sarcasm entirely seriously, “The universe is very fair in its judgement and takes many things into account, you do not need to worry, if you choose to take that option, that is.”

“...Okay,” Virgil nodded, “I um- I think I’d rather do that than the Christian judgement system…”

“Wonderful,” Logan nodded, “I’ll walk you to the universal judgement gate when you’re ready, meanwhile, do you have any more questions you’d like to ask?”

“You mentioned… punishment realms?” Virgil said tentatively, “If I end up there…?”

“If you were to come out of the bad side of Universal Judgement, you will be offered a choice of punishment realm for you to spend your sentence. Some people stay forever, others are able to reincarnate after a time. But remember that the punishment realms are more a system of justice, but unlike the mortal justice system you’re used to, it's not obscenely biased and cannot be incorrect.”

“...right,” Virgil nodded slowly, “And the paradise?”

“If you achieve it, your own space that fits your soul’s true desires, usually a house or community that represents your perfect ‘heaven’ of a sort. Of course, different belief systems will have different versions of this - for example, the Norse may have paradises in Valhalla, while Christians may have theirs in Heaven, though people not attached to religion will still get a paradise in a more general ‘paradise’ realm.”

“Right, that’s…” Virgil took another deep breath. The idea of paradise sounded… nice, but… well he didn’t know if he’d even get there, of course, a large part of him doubted it - after all, no one in his life had had faith in him, his parents so convinced he’d go to hell that they kicked him out of their house, but… if he did achieve it… how would that feel?

“I’ll give you a moment to think,” Logan told him, “Let me know when you’re ready to go.”

“Won’t I hold up the line?” Virgil asked.

“No,” Logan shook his head, “Most people gravitate to some of the other workers here.”

“...Okay.”

—-

Virgil wasn’t sure how much time passed - their concept of time had been screwed over when they were alive, and there didn’t seem to be any kind of clock or other time-telling devices around this space, but he thought maybe it had been about five minutes before he finally told Logan that he was ready and let him lead them off to that same hallway the woman had gone down before.

Eventually - after some time Virgil spent trying to block all of the confusing sensory input from all around him, trying not to spiral into a panic as they approached what could only be the universal judgement gateway, a stone archway that seemed to glitter with a strange rainbow iridescence.

“You step in there,” Logan informed, “And the universe will take you where you need to go, good luck, I’m sure you’ll end up exactly where you need to be.”

“Thank you, um, for your help,” Virgil said, trying to offer Logan a smile through his bubbling panic.

“I’m simply doing my job,” Logan nodded, “But you are welcome.”

Virgil nodded, before turning to look into the grey mist that formed the inside of the archway, taking a deep breath, and with a final glance back at Logan who offered an encouraging nod, he stepped through the archway.

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General tags: @full-of-roman-angst-trash @reptilianrapscallion420 @your-local-random-dino @cutebisexualmess @glacierruler @roseianxiety @bella-bugatti-frogetti-baguetti (if anyone wants to be added, let me know!)

Hell's Belles AU tags: @awitchbravestheverge @twoalpacas @goldnskyart @anxious-mess19 @doteddestroyer

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#sanders sides #hells belles #hells belles au #virgil sanders #prinxiety #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides fanfic #rowans writings

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