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earthtooz · 2 months

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in which: you need to make it to liyue harbour in time so you can give kazuha a piece of your mind and a response to his love letter.

cw: fluff, 1.3k words, not too sure how canon accurate this is, potentially ooc-kazuha, gn!reader from inazuma, confessions, two wholesome idiots in love

a/n: for my little sibling @sixosix, i hope you enjoy

Liyue, out of all regions in Teyvat, is the hardest to run through.

It’s mountainous, your muscles will ache from going uphill, your ankles will be sore the next day from going too fast downhill. It’s grassy, the gravel is rough against the soles of your feet, and there is an abundance of hillichurls and samachurls waiting for you with their clubs and shields. Yet, they provide more motivation for you to outrun them, speeding right by their camps to get to Liyue Harbour in time.

Stupid Kaedehara Kazuha, when you see him, he’s in for an earful from you. Making you run from Lingju Pass all the way back to the Harbour, doesn’t he know how much you despise running for long periods of time?

A break is not plausible, especially when Beidou’s boat could leave the dock at any minute now.

When Liyue’s bustling harbour is in sight, it’s vast oceans appearing out the horizon, you feel like you can breathe. The sunlight glimmering on the ocean cheers you on, and you won’t stop until the waves are underneath your feet, the only thing separating you from them being wooden planks.

You push through crowds, too tired and determined to be polite and apologetic to shoppers you push aside. You run past Mingxing Jewelry, Wanmin Restaurant, and Master Zhang’s workshop, and don’t stop until you, yourself, are climbing onto the Crux. Crew members are shouting in protest at your sudden appearance, yelling at your unexplained entrance.

There are people trying to pull you off the boat, and you don’t really know where the strength to push off burly sailors came from, but you successfully fend off all of them, and find Beidou at the bow of the ship.

“Where is Kazuha?” You demand, decorum be screwed, nothing can stop your momentum now.

Her uncovered eye lights up in amusement, a hint of knowing behind her crimson gaze. “Right behind you.”

Lo and behold, the beige-haired in question was right behind you. “Uh, hello?”

“I have a bone to pick with you, Kazuha!” Stomping over to him, he grabs your wrist before you have another chance to talk, dragging you away from the bow of the ship where all the crewmates were unloading their cargo. (Beidou’s thundering laughter can be heard as he’s dragging you away, at least she’s not mad at your sudden intrusion.)

He stops when the two of you are on the quarter deck and turns to look at you with panic all over his face.

“What did I do?”

From your pocket, you pull out a piece of paper like it’s an incriminating piece of evidence, one that he’s stared at for too long, so much so that he can recall every dip and curve of the dry-pressed leaves he added on for a more personal touch. It has sat on his desk for ages, seen all of his turmoils and frustrations over delivering it to you.

The paper contains a mix of poems, haikus, and different confessions Kazuha has been harbouring in his heart for the past few years, ever since the two of you left Inazuma. Your hand clutching his gloved one as the two of you hurry onto Beidou’s boat with nothing but your visions, weapons, and the clothes on your back.

He has loved you for this entire journey, and words could not surmise the depth of his feelings, let alone a measly piece of paper. Some days, it sees the sun when he dares it to, but it always ends up right back on his desk, waiting for the day that it will leave Kazuha’s possession and fall into yours.

This morning was the exact moment. He slipped it in your bag before you went on your expedition, the two of you meeting for a quiet breakfast before his eight-month long expedition, and your two-week one. He had waved you goodbye as far as he could go before leaving Liyue Harbour, even staying on the outskirts until your group left his sight.

Nothing could have prepared him for seeing you so soon, not after putting that letter in your backpack.

“You’re a coward!” You accuse immediately, poking your finger to his chest. “A lousy coward!”

He takes it, knows that he should have just braved his fears and handed it to you in person, but the idea of being rejected on the spot causes his chest to ache in unbearable ways. The samurai rather you read it, then have eight months to prepare for your inevitable rejection.

Yet, he should have known that in the face of a storm, you are the only one brave enough to fight against the waves. Nothing ever goes the way he wants when it’s with you.

“You should probably sit down, Y/n, your legs are shaking and I’ll grab you some-”

Your hands fly up to grab the sleeves of his kimono, whether to stabilise yourself, or to stop him from leaving, or both, he stays. “Kaedehara Kazuha, I like you too,” you declare. “I just ran all the way from Lingju Pass, so I have nothing flowery nor sweet to say like your letter except that you are so very mean for making me come all this way.”

With one last heaved breath, you collapse to your knees. Kazuha, being the gentleman he is, freaks out and mimics your actions, clinging onto your shoulders.

“Y/n!” He calls out, his usually level voice breaching a panicked cry. “You shouldn’t be exerting yourself like this. Stay here, I’ll go grab water water.”

Listening to the samurai, you rest against a nearby pillar, feeling the dull aches in all muscles of your legs. Archons, you’ll feel the pain tenfold tomorrow.

Kazuha returns not too long with a canteen in hand, and he twists it open before handing it to you. After a few beats of tense silence, he speaks up.

“Honestly, I don’t really have anything to say either, I wasn’t expecting to see you for another eight months, and even then, I was expecting a rejection.” He admits sheepishly, a blush blooming along his cheeks. “Maybe an apology for making you run all this way just to see me is my first course of action.”

“Accept my confession first, jerk,” you punch his shoulder lightly, smiling up at him.

“I’ll accept anything so long as it’s from you, I thought I made that clear in my letter.”

“Don’t think you can charm your way into my good graces!”

He thinks it’s adorable that you’re trying to maintain your cool mask despite your inability to look him in the eye, even if he’s hardly faring much better. The usual lyricism of his words have faded, and his quick mind can’t think of anything poetic to say, as if your confession has intercepted all the functions of his brain.

You like him back, you like him back, you like him back, and he doesn’t know what to do with that information except smile like an idiot.

“Are you still going on your expedition?” asks Kazuha. “Your group must be waiting for you.”

“I told them not to, dumped my rations and things with them and told them they could use it. I’m not running all the way back now.”

“Then, does that mean you can join us?”

“I don’t want to intrude, and I don’t know if you have enough things on board for another-”

“-I’m sure Beidou and the crew wouldn’t mind. There are always extra rations, you can have some of mine if it gets to it, and our first stop is at sunset, so we could go and grab some clothes for you to bring along!” He quickly suggests, hope shining brightly in those crimson eyes of his, as if pleading for you to say yes.

The wind blows gently through his beige strands, and the moment feels enchantingly similar to one you had read in an Inazuman poem. Then again, Kazuha always had that effect; the ability to slow time and let you see the world through a different, prettier lens, even if the consequences were completely dire.

You want to continue seeing through his lens, exactly the way you did when both of you fled Inazuma and the Vision hunt Decree. And you want to see the rest of Teyvat the way he does.

“Okay.” You agree, “I’ll come along.”

#CUTIE KAZUHA :((#earthtooz: genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #kaedehara kazuha x reader #kazuha x reader #kazuha fluff

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foosmbwkw · 2 years

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#Pretending to believe but not really believe #pretending to love but not really love #disclosure #The waves behind the Yangtze River push the waves ahead #leaders #son of destiny #breaking the news #benefits #brother one #being good-natured when he used time and exposing his old backg #who did not leave any address and contact information when supporting Guo. Others were more or less punished and were evil hearted. There i #that is #whether Guo Wengui kicked away his #when going uphill. Now that he is going downhill #he has even stepped into prison with half his foot. When he just wants to swindle money crazily #you people who share the money will only be Guo Wengui's #and the war friendship on his mouth is just a fig leaf to protect vulnerable fraud interest groups. With Guo Wengui's mania and more and mo #the ant Gang #a criminal gang that built up by cheating #has reached a precarious moment. Guo big liar will let the small liars spit out their money like he squeezed Sara at the beginning; And the #and they are more crazy to rob each other of interests. This situation will eventually cost Guo Wengui #the source of everything. After all #as the ultimate beneficiary #he will be punished as the head of the fraud group.#Guo Wengui #as the initiator of all this #let a group of little liars who followed him learn to cheat against each other #cross rivers and demolish bridges #and also learned his way to get rich by #. But all of this is based on crime. Every member of this

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fic-heaven · 2 months

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Last confessions (Simon Riley x reader)

Heavy angst!

You are all going to die.

The whole team was uphill right in front the base awaiting Makarov's missile, a manifestation of death coming after your souls thanks to Kate's betrayal. You didn't blame her, none of you did, not when the Russians executed her wife in front of her and tortured her for weeks to find your whereabouts and your base.

You were all going to die.

Gaz lit up a cigar and walked downhill, he wanted to die in the base where you all suspected hid his secret lover. Jhonny was still coming to terms with what was about to happen and paced around in shock after denying Price a quick death, the captain had shot himself afterwards with a quick goodbye, a hug to each of you and a promise that he'd find and gather all of you in the next life, not as a team but as a family. Ghost laughed in defeat, his laughter perturbing Soap further and you...

You hugged your stomach, your expression hard as stone until realization hit.

You were going to die.

"i want our baby to live." You spoke up, voice weak but determinate, your eyes firmly looking at the horizon. The missile approaching the base looked like a simple airplane tracing a white line on the beautiful orange cambas that composed the sky.

"W-what...?" Soap muttered. But the man it was directed to was shock in silence.

Ghost looked your way when Soap did but unlike him who compleatly frozen in place, he took long strides to your spot, his shaky hands gripped your upper arms "Look at me, (Y/n)." But your panic made his voice sound like he was underwater. "SOLDIER!" Your lieutenant yelled with a booming voice breaking your trance, you finally looked at him when he angled you to face him.

His brown eyes turned from wild anger to sick worry when your teary eyes met his, the rim of his turned wet fighting off the upcoming tears. A strong wave of emotions clouded his collected mind, the acceptance of his death never involved yours, much less... Your child. Yours and his.

You were carrying his baby. He was going to be a father.

Makarov wasn't only going to kill him and his team but he was also killing his babe before it even had the chance to take a first breath.

"I want our baby to live-..." You wept again, desperation increasing as your body started to shake with the force of your hyperventilation, Ghost pulled you to his chest, his arms caging you to the heat of his body but you felt suffocated and tried to weakly squirm out of his hold but he didn't relent. It was when you felt his stiff body shake as well that your heavy breathing slightly regulated, he was crying, his sobs, his whimpers...

He was crying. Not Ghost. Simon, your Simon was crying.

His hand shot to his face and snatched off his balaclava throwing it with force to the side cracking the skull's surface and almost hitting Johnny who sat there looking at the horizon compleatly giving up, Price's bloodied revolver in hand, said man's corpse lay a few feet to Soap's right. Jhonny fisted the revolver, in his racing mind the moment you spoke those words he wanted to shoot you, to spare you the image of the base you all considered home and your comrades exploding to nothing robbing Makarov of the satisfaction that he had killed you and the little one you carried. But deep down he knew it was best to leave that decision to you and the father of your child who apparently was his dear lieutenant, so he pointed the muzzle of the gun to the inside of his mouth and closed his eyes eager to meet his captain and his team in the other side of the river of life.

The face of the man you loved stared down at you with so much emotion it broke you. Snot and tears ran down his wet flushed face, his lower lip wavered, for the first time in his adult life, Simon was scared shitless. There was so much he wanted to do, so much he wanted to say... A year back before he knew you, he was a mindless soldier but now he realizes that you made him the man he is today, you revived him, made him feel emotions he thought were buried a long time ago along with the man he once was.

"(Y/n)..."

"Don't let me die, Simon- don't - I don't want to die...! PLEASE... MY BABY, PLEASE!" His hands cupped your face in desperation while yours clang to any part of him reachable, your brain convincing itself that if you let go the inevitable would happen quicker. It killed him to see you like this.

Ghost barked out a sob that sounded like someone had stabbed the air out of his chest, it took the remaining strength he had left to keep his body standing and fell down with your to the cold grass of the hill. Your hands went to his hair, his arms circled your waist pressing you close to his body as if he could seal you and the proof of your love growing inside your belly from the enemy Russians.

The missile was approaching quickly.

"When we wake up..." He spoke in gasps from the upcoming panic attack "We-We'll be in our lil apartment..." You could picture it in your mind, your annoying neighbors, your house plants, the dishes drying near the sink, Simon continued "I'll cook ya a big breakfast... Some uh- Pancakes, bacon, hot black coffee as disgusting as you always have it." You chuckle, momentarily forgetting the situation you are in, his right hand lowers to your belly. "Tommy. His name is Tommy." He affirms with an uncharacteristic, nervous and shaky laugh like you had talked about the name and known the gender of the baby for long. You gasp clasping his hand with yours caressing your lightly swollen stomach.

Fuck. You two never even confessed your feelings. The day you found out you were pregnant you were sure he'd cut contact with you, report you even... So you kept it a secret.

Simon spoke quick, his words racing the roaring missile. "I will love you and our kiddo for the rest of my fuckin' life. I'll marry you, I'll leave this shitty fucking job, we'll drive Tommy to school, a good school, buy him a hamster, we'll raise him to be better than us (Y/n)." You were a mess, you knew if the missile doesn't kill you now, the sorrow will. "I'll be a better man, I promise. I love you- FUCK!" He kissed you then, his hands all over you, his bleeding heart being poured in ways like never before, the nights you spent together played in your heads like a movie.

"I love you too... I love you..." You sobbed kissing him gently.

"I love you, my darling."

White light hit. You didn't feel any pain. The last thing you felt were his dry lips crushing yours and his bulky body shielding you, a last attempt to keep you safe.

Ghost died knowing he was no longer a ghost and you died knowing the man behind the mask, Simon, loved you so fiercely that no hostile missile would ever be deadly enough to extinguish his feelings nor his will to father your child.

You died in tears, but you died loving Simon Riley and Tommy Riley.

#ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #angst #ghost simon riley #simon riley x reader #Spotify

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gallusrostromegalus · 1 year

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I need more of this force sensitive teenager 😭

(With reference tho this post)

Attachment is Forbidden. To hold on too long, against the current of reality, is to bind and strangle, to cause suffering and grief.

Attachment is Essential. To become disconnected from the world around you is to fall to cruelty and madness, to cause suffering and grief.

The Force is very complicated and only vaguely comprehensible to three pounds of electrified jello piloting a meat suit and specialized to sort different kinds of berries. It is a knife's edge to walk and the blade cuts and cuts at those with the force until they learn to wield it. When you seize the edge of attachment and the blade is in your hand, the decision is yours to decide what to preserve, and what to cut away from yourself. Can you really be the Judge of which relationships, which laws, which lives are worthy to keep and which to discard?

The Jedi and Sith agree on this one facet- Yes. Yes, you can, you should, and you Must, or what is the point? The dispute is whether to trust in your own judgment, or to attempt to divine and follow the will of The Force.

There is, of course, another option.

There is always another option with the force. The question is always, is that option worth the cost?

---

The morality of choice is not on her mind when she discovers the other option. What's on her mind is grief, the final hell of the descent of fear into anger into suffering. But the fear wasn't hers, the anger wasn't hers, even the suffering wasn't entirely hers- Her parents and siblings alike bear the emotional and physical scars of her inability to control this- but the grief, the grief is overwhelming and far too personal to be anyone else's.

It's not like anyone else can mourn the life she should have had, dead on the cold ground in front of her like a carrion corpse. She can see it so clearly in the Force, it's her as she should have been, loved and respected and loved and encouraged and loved and free to grow into the shape she should and loved and loved and LOVED- but there her theoretical future self is, dead on the ground, strangled.

And despite breaking, her heart insists on beating.

If this is the final step of the descent into darkness, and she is not dead, what's the next one to take?

Well, immediately, big ones, very fast, and very far away from here.

She runs away, away from the institutions, away from the medication that never helped, away from the frightened eyes, away from the exasperated sighs and hands that dragged and the 'its for your own good's, and into the night.

Barefoot, over the rough ground, over the sharp stones and uphill into the mountains, into the desert away from the lights of town, into the night. She's probably bleeding, her lungs burn and the windy night is cold. At the crest of the Hill she stops, wheezing and sobbing, only able to scream and cry.

The lights of the town (or at least, the few not effected by the power outage) are still close. It wouldn't take long to run back home, especially not downhill, to crawl home and scrape and beg forgiveness, it won't happen again-

...except that it would. It always did.

And now she'd crossed the line from "Shattered furniture" to "possibly leveling part of a building". And there was no going back. Police would get involved for real this time. No more institutions would take something capable of destroying a building. Can't stay home, where she'd hurt another member of her family. Can't go somewhere private if I'm a living wrecking ball. Can't be in public, twitching and chattering, frightening people. There is, of course, another option.

She looked down the other side of the hill, deeper into the only-sort-of-explored so-called wasteland of thorny succulents, bare rocks and unforgiving temperatures.

The question is, as always, is it worth the cost?

Well, heading back to civilization cost what was left of her dignity, and quite possibly the lives of her family. And she was fuck all out of pride, and not willing to gamble with their accounts.

Into the wild it was.

Of course- she considered, starting her descent down the other side- the desert wilderness is no place for a barefoot twelve year old, especially not alone and possibly being hunted by law enforcement. It's a place for the toughest of beasts, of nocturnal horrors and all things red of tooth and claw.

"Can't be myself anywhere, can I?" She asks, hysterical. She winces at another sharp rock. "Be nice to have proper paws or something-"

She stops.

There is, of course, another option.

---

The Jedi and Sith agree on another point too.

You can use the force to shape reality. Any part you want! Change minds with a wave of your hand! Defy gravity with extremely direct eye contact! Generate lighting by thinking about it really hard!

But they both hold a secret taboo.

As much as the Jedi profess detachment and humility and selflessness, and as much as the Sith proclaim self-determination and experimentation and manifestation of vision, they hold the same secret rule-

When you grasp the Blade of Attachment, and are deciding how to sculpt the future, don't turn the blade upon yourself.

Like how there is a line in the sand between shattered furniture and demolishing a building, or one between parental rights and child welfare, there is a line between using the force to alter your body as a means of preservation of the self, and using it to transform the self.

The line is so secret, it's rarely discussed and even then only in metaphor. It's called The Rubicon, after a mythical river a foolish emperor once crossed.

There are of course, those who have Crossed The Rubicon- Darth Nihilus and Darth Sion come to mind, though there are some suspiciously long-lived and more-hands-having-than-circumstances-would suggest Jedi as well- there's always someone who will decide the forbidden option is worth the cost. In this case, the currency is flesh, and to an extent, the self.

...But if you are twelve years old and already changing and grew up told your self as it is is repulsive and dangerous, so you grew alienated from that self to the point of being a stranger to the person everyone seemed to know and that self was useless in your present circumstances anyway...

The Force shines. It shines bright and beautiful and even the crude matter of life is luminous in the dark, and it is so, so easy to see how a hand is just an elongated paw.

She runs.

She runs down the hill, cries of pain now intermingled with those of discovery and the joy of creation. She runs toward the desert, towards the beautiful night-blooming flowers, towards the blissful silence, towards the personal space measured in hundreds of square miles, toward freedom, towards a new future self, and away from the carrion corpse of her youth.

There is a river at the bottom of the hill, and as her eyes open to new possibilities and spectra, she sees how it's nearly entirely underground, and how the ox-bow at the bottom of the hill is only where it briefly breaches the surface and she runs toward it, gait shifting awkwardly under her but everything was always awkward, but now it's awkward with Purpose-

-She leaps across the river, and when she lands palm-first on the other side, the things on the ends of her arms are no longer hands.

---

The Apprentice awakens with a terrified shriek. Her bones ache with sympathetic sensations of shape-change, winded and shaking. A dream, a dream, it was all just a terrible dream-

Her Master stumbles into the room to check on her, legs not feeling quite right, and one look between them belies the awful truth.

It was not just a dream.

They embrace, too tight and fingers digging into clothing, tears hot, faces hidden in each other's shoulders, trying to find comfort in shared horror and grief. Something happened earlier, when they heard something break, and now they were bound to this stranger's destiny.

Attachment and Detachment are the choices you make the shape reality.

Attachment and Detachment are forced upon you no matter what choices you make.

The Force is very complicated and only sort of comprehensible.

#Star Wars #Long Post #Hello I have an angst Baby OC #No I didn't name any of these characters #or decide when this is taking place #Those are irrelevant #I'm just putting the force as a concept in a jar and shaking it vigorously #Body Horror #Abuse mention #:)

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seat-safety-switch · 9 months

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Brakes are a safety item, now? Let me tell you about safety. Nearly one hundred percent of cars that crash are using the brakes in the moments leading up to impact. That sounds pretty dangerous to me.

Even though there have been centuries of advancement in the field of brakes, it still ultimately boils down to one thing. You are using one slightly soft rock to stop a larger, harder rock from turning. Back in the day, they could do this approximately once. Any successive attempt to stop would be met with a "not today, bud," but more polite, English, and cut off at the end by plowing through a hedge, bank, or tire wall.

Improvements abounded, however, and the modern hydraulic disc brake system has advanced stopping power that the ancient racecars of even a decade ago would be shitting their pants to have. Everyone on my commute knows this. And they're so proud of their brakes that they use them all the time. Merging. Driving in the left lane. Going downhill. Going uphill. A quinceañera. There is simply no traffic occasion that doesn't merit a stiff jab of the whoa pedal, buying them just enough time for their brains to start working again before lapsing back into the microwaving-a-potato 60hz hum of modern life.

As for me, I've never taken brakes for granted. Once you've done enough sketchy shit to make sure they still work – and especially once you've had a few blown lines or ejected shoes at highway speed – you want to avoid using the hill outside the Mayor's house as your emergency braking system if at all possible. This is only aided by the fact that my car's engine is not exactly capable of Ferrari-like acceleration, unless that Ferrari is currently parked. Like the astronauts of Apollo 13, I need to save all the momentum that I can get, or I won't get to work on time. Or ever.

So the next time you push down the middle pedal (it is the middle pedal in your car, right?) say a silent thanks to the inventor of brakes, whoever it is, and then get ready to cuss out the guy in front of you for slamming on his brakes for no goddamn reason it's fucking dry as a bone and sunny you idiot are you slowing down for ducks or some shit learn to read the road signs do not use big words.

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docholligay · 6 days

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I'm running this race Sunday to try and get a huge PR coupon from a running brand whose stuff I can't afford. I picked it because it's ALWAYS a short course, despite calling itself a 5k.

But I HATE this course. Circling the park is a HUGE uphill, which I am traditionally not great at, rescued only by the fact that the downhill that follows is an advantage for me, as I'm good at downhill running. I wish they took us on the backside of the park as that's a way more aggressive downhill.

ANYWAY WISH ME LUCK FOR COUPON.

#i know no one cares but running feels like the only thing I'm accomplishing lately #i need to try harder it just feels like balls are getting dropped and rewards are few

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the-possum-writes · 1 year

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Hey hun! I fricken love Adventure and its so hard to find fics of it but your blog is great! Could you do a Finn x reader where its just our boy being super affectionate and playful he chases the reader and then tickles them, gives lots of smooches and just lots of fluff? Thanks!

Call me sunshine

❥Character: Finn Mertens

❥Tags: Fluff, SFW, playful banter, Gn!reader

❥Synopsis:

After spending weeks digging through underground tunnels, both you and Finn coincidentally resurface near a flower hill.

❥Taglist: @watchingfromthefloorboards

With only dirt and rocks in the way, you and your buddy had to spend several hours using pickaxes and shovels to break through the obstruction. Eventually, the soil began to soften, making the task simpler for you both.

"How much longer till we leave this place? It feels like we've been digging nonstop for days."

The map crinkles beneath your calloused hands, which are covered in fabric bandages, clearing the dust so you can see your math equations in the corner. "It should be a few feet away; once the ground turns to sand, we're good."

"Do you mean this?"Finn switched to a shovel to remove the few rocks that were intertwined with streams of gray sand and seashells. The dust filling the cave became so overwhelming that you raised the bandana on your neck to your lower jaw, stuffing the map in your pocket in order to help Finn before he gets buried alive. Once the sand broke away into a hole on the cieling the two of you are showered in natural sunlight that burns your pupils like lemon juice on an open wound.

Finn burst into a cheery laugh. "I never knew I'd be so happy to get blinded by the sun." he rubs his eyes a few times before getting used to the exterior, stretching and arm out to help you climb out of the hole.

"I'm not in a rush to go blind but I'm glad we got out of those caves, it was starting to feel claustrophobic." you tug the cloth from your face, feeling like its suffocating you now that it isn't necessary. While you drop down on the sand dunes soaking up in the sun, Finn started jogging downhill to probably stretch his legs or something. After spending weeks underground you regret taking the sun for granted, relishing the warmth it lays over your dirt ridden skin, listening closely to the seagulls and the nearby shore like a natural lullaby. You could've easily taken a nap right there if it wasn't for a shadow blocking the light from your face, opening your eyes to a drenched young man in front of you.

In the few minutes you laid down Finn had already ditched his clothes and his caving gear and ran off to dip in the oceanside without you.

"What's up with you?" Finn asked, with his hands on his waist eyeing you like an oddity that washed ashore.

You scrunched up your nose when a few droplets landed on your heated skin. "Me? What's up with you?" you retort.

He squeezes the water out of his wild medium length hair. "I needed a dip after getting all dusty in there, you should try it!"

You scrunch your nose a second time and casually rest your arms behind your head. "Thanks but no thanks, I'll take a hot shower when I get home."

Finn laughs, pinching his nose. "You're gross, why wait for a shower when you got a giant bath out here." he waves a hand where the ocean is.

"No way, fish pee in there." you say jokingly while sticking your tongue out.

"So what? I pee in the shower too." Finn responds almost immediately, with you taunting him with gaging noises.

"That's even worse!"

"Come'on, if I can't take you willing then I'll have to dunk you in myself!" Having enough of your tomfoolery, Finn playfully tries to grab hold of you.

"Heck nah! Get away from me ya seadog!" you immediately scramble to your feet and take off running with Finn chasing right behind your tail like a starving animal. The sand kicks up with every step you take, slows you down a bit as you run uphill, but the scenery changes the farther you run, with patches of grass becoming more common and colorful. Eventually you reach the top of the sand dune with a heaving chest, seemingly forgetting why you were in a hurry when your eyesight was blessed with grassy meadows and soft flowers swaying peacefully in the breeze, after growing used to dark browns and grays caverns its easy to be captured by such an cheery display.

"Gotcha!" Finn catches up to you by wrapping his arms around your midsection and promptly sent you down the grassy hill with him. There's leafs and petals flying everywhere as your vision blurs like a carousel with the ground replacing where the ground should be over and over again, the only thing keeping your limbs together is Finn holding you tight, eventually landing at the bottom of the hill with an "Oomph!" as flowers crumble under the two of you. "Bleh!" you spit out the petals that got into your mouth. All the while Finn is contently laughing to himself even though he's trapped under you, it's tempting to spew some colorful words at him but you're unable to stay mad at him because his laugh is that contagious.

"...I guess I could use that ocean bath now." you admit in defeat.

Finn out stretches his arms to you embrace you in a smooch, you pull back slowly to repeat the kiss but it got interrupted by the flower petal that got in your mouth, causing Finn to blow a raspberry. "Bleh." he pouts and this time you're the one laughing.

#adventure time x reader #finn the human x reader #finn the human #finn mertens x reader #reader insert

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yuzukahibiscus · 1 month

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Takarazuka Revue Flower Troupe Top Star Yuzuka Rei does sayonara performance in home base "I ran with all of my youth"

(Source from Daily Co)

Takarazuka Revue Flower Troupe Top Star Yuzuka Rei will be graduating from Takarazuka Revue on May 26, and she performed on the closing performance of their graduation performance "Arc en ciel" on 24 March, saying goodbye at the home base.

The sayonara show after the original performance was around 30 minutes. The sayonara show began with one of her representative performances "Haikara-san ga Tooru" and appeared in the military uniform. Also graduating is Top Musumeyaku Hoshikaze Madoka to whom they sang a song of "Genroku Baroque Rock" and had a duet dance later*. And with Towaki Sea who is the next Top Star, they sang from "A Battlefield for the Two of Us" and as if passing on the last baton, they shook hands.

(*note: the article was wrong because the duet dance was from "TOP HAT" and not "Genroku Baroque Rock", so I changed this bit.)

"Since it's the formal otokoyaku costume", Yuzuka chose the black tails and went down the grand staircase. Senka star Minami Maito who supported Yuzuka for a long time came to give flowers as her classmate.

Yuzuka thanked the audience and delivered the following speech.

"I just kept on running. It was a journey that I devoted all of my youth to. I have only continued running with all my might. Facing uphills and downhills, even after there was finally a clear road for me, I have been in deep frustrations. When I faced muddy paths, my footsteps become heavy, and there were days when I couldn't move forward. But in the midst of running these paths, many wonderful sceneries are waiting for me. Either it's how we all became united as one, or that I accomplished something, at each turning point, there were sceneries that were imprinted in my heart. In the road ahead, there will definitely be sceneries that I've worked hard for, waiting for me. And that scenery is something I can see on this stage now. To me, this scenery is my favourite one. Be it the dazzling eyes of the audience, the shining scenery as far as my eyes could see...If I could see such happy scenery in the place I've arrived in, I have no regrets in remain. I will never forget this wonderful scenery!"

#yuzuka rei #flower troupe #graduation #retirement #taidan #hanagumi #hoshikaze madoka #towaki sea #hibiscustranslation #minami maito #senka

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grapenehifics · 2 months

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WIP Wednesday

I was venting to @palfriendpatine66 this week that I *want* to be sharing bits of this fic as I work on it, because I am happy with it and every once in a while I write something that makes me go "oh hell yeah!", but I *also* gave myself a totally made-up and self-imposed rule that I not share anything that could reasonably constitute a spoiler until I've finished. Which I now regret, a little, because it's really hampering my WIP Wednesday participation, but I've made it this far so at this point I should just stay the course. So...that's a long way of saying, here's a bit that I like, but with as much identifying information pulled out of it as possible.

Obi-Wan moved into position and straddled the back of the speeder bike behind Anakin. And, look. If pressed, Anakin would swear up and down that he hadn’t chosen a single-seater on purpose; it had simply been all the shop had in stock at the time, and he wouldn’t even be lying about it because this bike had been all the shop had available. But if the Force or the galaxy or simply Anakin’s inborn luck had seen fit to grant him a boon that afternoon and give him use of a bike which required Obi-Wan to press his entire body from shoulder to inner thigh against the back of Anakin’s, hook his chin over Anakin’s shoulder, and grip Anakin’s waist tightly between his hands, well…who was Anakin to complain about a good thing?

He also had not been lying when he’d told Obi-Wan he was good at riding pillion. Obi-Wan was good at riding pillion – certainly better at it than when they’d tried it the other way ‘round, Obi-Wan driving and Anakin behind him, sniping criticisms the entire way until Obi-Wan had finally snapped, ‘Do you want to drive?’ and Anakin had shouted back, ‘YES!’ so loudly Obi-Wan had nearly fallen off. He kept firmly seated but didn’t grip uncomfortably tightly. He read Anakin’s body language without needing to be asked. When Anakin braked or changed gears, Obi-Wan turned his head to the side so that his forehead didn’t collide with the back of Anakin’s head. He almost seemed to anticipate Anakin’s movements, leaning left or right instinctually to help Anakin take a corner or, conversely, would lean the opposite direction if Anakin was in danger of skidding. (Not that Anakin had ever purposefully or accidentally laid their bike out, of course! Just, you know, hypothetically.) He kept his weight back on the downhills and leaned forward on the uphills. He kept his feet to himself and didn’t get his boots or his clothes tangled up in the chain or, worse, Anakin’s boots. He kept quiet, let Anakin concentrate on the road, and (unlike Anakin) he never backseat-drove or offered any advice. He kept his focus on the road and on anticipating Anakin’s movements and changes in balance.

And, well, if he looked extraordinarily pretty while doing all of that…that was just an extra perk for Anakin, he supposed.

“Goggles,” Obi-Wan reminded him now, and then reached forward and put Anakin’s over his eyes for him before doing his own. Only then did he push his hands up underneath Anakin’s jacket and rest them on Anakin’s waist again, just above the hem of his trousers.

“R-ready?” Anakin asked, which just the smallest hint of a hitch in his voice. He willed his stomach muscles to stop clenching and calm the fuck down for a second.

Ahsoka let go of the handlebars with one hand and tapped Anakin’s right knee, which was her signal for ‘ready’.

Obi-Wan kissed him on the side of the neck.

Anakin opened the throttle and gunned it down the road.

#wip wednesday #obikin #pick up the pieces

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silverskye13 · 2 years

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Etho stumbled onto the beach, tired, sore, hungry, and one moment of weakness away from calling Tango and begging for mercy. Sure, the whole exile thing had been his idea. Sure, it had all gone downhill at approximately the same intervals he thought it would. And sure, he'd feel really, really stupid for making Tango help him dig himself into this hole only to whine to be dug out again, but who could blame him? Life in exile was hard.

Everything that could possibly go wrong had gone wrong, he couldn't get a moment of peace with all the half-panicked villagers milling around, and his gear was half busted. There were raids too. Death after death to vexes and evokers lost in the caverns. Dragging himself through mud and water and gravel just to trudge back up to the villager bell and have no clue where the final raiders were. Ravagers pitching him off the cliff at every other turn...

Etho sighed dramatically and sprawled out in the sand, letting himself sink body and soul into self pity and misery. His communicator was a brick in his pocket, taunting him with its presence. It stuck to his thigh with the uncomfortable, matted grasp of wet fabric. He was well and truly soaked after his last climb through the caverns, and his clothes clung to him like a second skin, salted with sweat and blotted with blood from cuts and scrapes. A crossbow bolt, broken at the shaft, pinned his belt against his chainmail. The tip of the bolt pricked him uncomfortably, worrying the bruise that had formed around its impact; though it was rendered nonlethal by the stubborn mail he was wearing, it still hurt. Laying in the sand like he was, he was just adding more grit to the mix, more minor inconveniences to add straws of weight to the almost-broken back of his resistance. More to scrub and clean and dwell on later, while he contemplated giving up.

The sky above was cloudless and brimming with stars.

Etho watched the tiny points of light flicker, and mapped the planets that didn't. His single player world was up there somewhere. So were all the other Hermitcrafts he'd been to - and those he hadn't. It was weird knowing he could chart his presence in the universe with points of light. There had been a long time, before so many worlds formed and fought into being, that he had charted his existence by thoughts and impulses and idle curiosity. Ethoslab - void first, player afterthought. He couldn't really pinpoint the moment he chose physicality, he only knew that he had, and had yet to un-choose it.

There was so much more of him. He was so much bigger than this little peninsula of shoreline. So much bigger than pesky ravagers, peskier villagers. He could give up and just recede back up there into the stars, bid farewell to Season 9. He'd started late anyway. Imposed a barrier he had too much trouble crossing. No one would blame him if he simply unspooled himself into the aether and rested for a while. For a season. Maybe two. The hermits were understanding like that. It was one of the things that made them mortal - the ability to empathize and understand.

Not that Etho couldn't do either of those things. It just took effort, like climbing uphill through a water stream. Like running from waves of vex summoned by a hidden evoker. He thought maybe his exile would help with that: the effort to pretend to be mortal. The effort to understand things the way they did, relate the way they did. To enjoy their company the way they enjoyed his.

No one would blame him if he decided he was too tired. They couldn't. It wasn't in their nature.

Etho blinked up at his stars, his universe, the pieces of him he'd left behind places where he tried his hardest to be player first, void second. He should make a decision. He should reach into his pocket and call Tango. Or he should drag himself to his feet and soldier on.

Or he could just sleep on the beach here. Sure he'd wake up cold and sandy, but hey, the sound of the waves was nice. It was a steady rhythm, the water muttering incomprehensible secrets to the sand and shells. He timed his breathing with the rolling surf, watched the sky, and tried to live in a single moment. His skin itched where it touched the sand. His scalp crawled where the water in his hair dried. He closed his eyes and sighed, bearing his discomforts as best he could.

He didn't fall asleep. He was lulled to the edge of it, maybe. His breath evened out. His thoughts spun towards nonexistence. His body was weighted with the feeling of sinking through the ground, through his subconscious into comfortable oblivion. Then, with every rush of the waves, wakefulness returned for him like a stray dog - meandering and lazy, but brutally persistent.

He was dragged awake alongside the presence of... something. He couldn't place it at first, so hazy in his exhaustion that he measured it as his own wakefulness at first. As he sat up in the sand though, he found whatever it was out there was distinct from himself. It was a great unspooling of something, a system of thought and presence in the water. The horizon was alight with it, a pale pseudo-sunrise that pulsed like heat rays off the surface of the water. Its consciousness brushed his, extended as he had been, and he felt the edges of something vast, fathomless, deep and drowning. It was cold in that crushing way the depth of the ocean is cold, a sunless dark smothered by water and distance, alight only by the predatory longing to feed. It was sharp-toothed, patient as a mountain in the breath before an avalanche, and when it brushed by him, it grinned.

The waves arced higher, roared, raced and crashed. White sea foam curled up the beach towards him, electrified by the thought and will that compelled it. Brightly colored fish, tinged silver-grey by the night, darted from them, roiling the water in great pulses and ripples. Entire schools of them fled the water, leaping into the sky as though driven by some great predator, backlit by that yellow phosphorescence in the deep that Etho recognized as eyes. Dozens of gazes trained in his direction, their lights spilling together. The sea boiled. The thing was nearing the shore. As it approached, it made itself familiar. Dark depths of frigid presence condensed and warmed themselves. Bright eyes winked out one after another until only two remained, unsettlingly bright, but human in their proportion. The crashing waves soothed, returning to a gentle rolling against the shore, and with each beat forward, they pulled this thing, now a him, towards dry land.

xB crawled out of the water with all the clumsy effort and strength of the first amphibians sniffing for shore in the times before history. His clothes were soaked. His hair was streaked with sand and kelp. His hands were planted firmly in his pockets. If not for all the sea water, and the hint of scales and gills like lace around his throat, he could have just strolled out of a building in the shopping district.

"Hullo," xB said anticlimactically, grinning with teeth that looked as though they couldn't decide how human they should be. They were situated in simple, straight rows, but the gums were too pale, and the white bone too sharp.

"Hey xB," Etho squinted his eyes, the closest to a smile he had to get with the mask on. It saved him the effort of trying to figure out how to arrange his face for human interaction. "Out fishing?"

xB chuckled, tilting his head to the side to let some trapped water out of his ear. It was just a few more indistinguishable drops to add to the damp ring of sand around his feet. "Maybe. You out star gazing?"

"I'm in exile."

"Ah. I see. So that’s why you’re so far out here,” xB shook his head, scattering water and sand from his hair. If the action was meant to dry him at all, it didn’t help. He sat down beside Etho, and the smell of salt and fish misted off of him in waves. “Should I leave?”

“I feel like you’re not going to,” Etho chuckled, laying back in the sand. He crossed his arms behind his head and gazed up at the sky, re-charting points of light he’d already mapped a thousand times in his head. “What brings you all the way out here?”

“I needed a vacation,” xB sighed and stretched, and bones that hadn’t existed a few minutes ago popped and cracked along his spine. “I love all those guys dearly, really I do, but they’re all so…” He trailed off, trying to find the right words. Finally he settled on, “... human.”

Etho nodded.

“They move too fast, and they work too big,” xB explained, as though he had to. “There’s so much emotionality going on there. I needed to just be…” he gestured vaguely to the ocean, conveying some other indescribable thing he was having trouble putting into words, “... you know. For a little while.”

“I get it,” Etho hummed, blinking skyward. He and xB were a lot alike, all things considered. The deep ocean and its half-life sentience, and the void and its time-damned knowingness, felt similar from time to time. To sensitive hands, both ice and liquid nitrogen felt cold. There were generous differences between the two things, but cold wasn’t one of them. “Well, don’t stop on my account.”

“I’m stopping on my account,” xB chuckled, even though there wasn’t much to laugh at. “I don’t wanna get lost in it, yanno? Ya’ll wouldn’t see me for the rest of the season.”

Etho nodded wordlessly.

“Unless,” xB said slowly, smirking down at him with bright eyes, “that was a really subtle way of telling me to shove off.”

Etho feigned hurt, placing a hand over his chest and raising his eyebrows, “xB! I would never--”

“Oh I see right through you, spaceman,” xB laughed. “Putting the hermit in hermitcraft out here. I see how it is.”

xB didn’t move to stand, but then again, that was the nature of the ocean. The surf didn’t leave the cliff because it wanted some alone time. It dug in and chipped away, until it had all the bones of the earth powdered to sand. So xB didn’t leave, and Etho didn’t try to make him. The void was more of a watcher than an actor anyway, and he could outlast xB’s patience. That wasn’t a sea-void metaphor, that was just them.

“I’m guessing you’re out here for the same reasons I am, then?” xB pressed on, heedless of Etho’s silence. “It takes some adjustment, but the exile’s a little extreme. I prefer full immersion myself.”

“I thought about not joining,” Etho hummed, finding a planet to fix his eyes on. It was a vaguely reddish light in the sky. “I’m joining late as it is.”

“Better late than never?” xB remarked, testing the waters with him, trying to figure out what he needed to hear. Or maybe he was just trying to make conversation. It was an odd little language barrier between them - two strange consciousnesses, one of void one of sea, conversing through the only experience they shared, pretending to be human. It was a language neither of them were the best at, but they tried regardless.

“It's hard, xB," Etho told him, like he needed the reminder. "My body is awkward, I hate pain, and you're right, they're all so much all the time. I'm nothing. So much of me is just distant points of light and quiet moments."

"You're an airhead," xB concluded for him inelegantly.

Etho chuckled, "Only sometimes."

"Fill it with redstone then. You're good at that."

"Redstone burns," Etho told him. "I'm not ready to burn yet. I can barely do noise."

"Aren't stars loud?" xB asked him. "I feel like giant burning balls of gas are probably loud."

"Is the bottom of the ocean loud?"

xB tilted his head thoughtfully, like the question had never really occurred to him. "Define loud?"

"Human loud. Like noise."

"The bottom of the ocean probably just sounds like your eardrums bursting, then."

"The void is quiet until you touch something."

xB wrinkled his nose, "But you're always touching something."

"There's not enough something in the void to touch."

"Should be full of water."

"Water is rare."

xB hissed unpleasantly, a disgusted sound that he wasn't quite human enough to make normal. It sounded too much like the charge before a guardian strike. "Water is life."

"Life is rare, and we'd make some mortal philosophers cringe."

The two of them chuckled, because they were talking nonsense - two immortal things pretending they knew mortal concepts like life and rarity. It was funny; pleasantly distracting. It was a distraction that only lasted until they were silent.

Etho looked up at the sky and sighed. “I don’t know what I’m going to do, xB.”

The sound of the ocean filled the silence between them, calm and steady without xB stirring it up. Etho could imagine it was xB’s heartbeat, constant and droning, an unstoppable rhythm. Etho didn’t have a heartbeat. The vibrations of the universe were random and distant, and many of them weren’t even his to claim. They were worlds and broadcasts, and advanced communicators sending data and coding across lightyears of distance.

Etho allowed himself a moment to think, really, he was quite lonely. Even sitting beside someone he should have every reason to relate to. And if he had trouble even seeing bits of himself in xB, well, there really wasn’t much hope for him this season, was there? It was a gloomy thought, but it wasn’t a new one. Yes… maybe rest was his best option after all. Like starting a new day, just a few years from now. What was time, really, to someone made of timelessness? The hermits would understand.

“You ever stop and think how cool it is,” xB spoke slowly, gazing up at the sky, picking his words with the same care that astronomers identified planets, “that we live in a universe where, in its two darkest, most desperate places, there are stars?”

Etho sat up slowly, peering out at the ocean. He could see the stars in the sky reflected in smears of light on the water. He got the distinct feeling, though, that they weren’t what xB was talking about. "You mean starfish?"

xB nodded, smirking, like he was aware it was a bit ridiculous. "The deepest oceans I've ever swam, there have always been starfish. Like deep, deep down, where the water's so heavy it sits on your chest like it hates you. They crawl around down there, tenacious little guys. Almost as tenacious as stars making themselves in nebulas, and burning up and making worlds, and burning those up too."

Etho smiled, "Are you giving me a pep-talk, xB?"

"Oh definitely not. It's only a pep-talk if I walk enigmatically into the ocean afterwards," xB stood and stretched, loose sand falling from his clothes and dusting the top of Etho's head. "I'll see you in a few days then, when your exile is over?"

He asked it like it was a real question. Like he didn't already know the answer. Etho shrugged, "Maybe."

xB graced him with one more chuckle, followed by a lazy salute, "Good luck, Etho."

xB walked into the water, shedding his humanity with every step. It seemed less like he disappeared into the water and more like he diffused into it, a collection of thoughts and ideas that colored the surface like spilled oil before melting into the tide and vanishing. Etho watched the place he vanished, watched the breaking of dawn start to lighten the sky on the farthest horizon. One star, then two, then three disappeared into the sunlight. Etho sighed, stood, stretched out his back and felt every pop and ache in his spine as he did so.

"Tenacious as the stars, huh?" Etho asked the ocean in front of him.

He got back to work.

#the barking writer #ethoslab #etho #xbcrafted #void creature etho #sentient ocean horror xbcrafted #once again i force a convergence with two of my headcanons #anyway this is 100% inspired by the fact that I watched Blue Planet with my sister last night #and i did say the quote outloud: isnt it wonderful we live in a world where in its darkest places there are stars #no i dont just wax poetic in fics for the low price of my friendship i will say dumb shit to you in real time

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even-disco-baby · 2 years

Text

KIM KITSURAGI — The lieutenant leans against the hood of the Kineema, taking a long drag of his cigarette. In the cold and the late night starlight, the crystals of his breaths seem to glow. As you gingerly cross the cobblestones to join him, he eyes you with what might be concern, but not surprise.

“You should be resting,” he says, but there’s no real reproach in his voice.

YOU — “So should you.”

KIM KITSURAGI — A wry smile splits his bruised face. “Touché.”

ENDURANCE — He looks exhausted. He would be sleeping right now if he were able.

PAIN THRESHOLD — It’s not easy to put a battered body to sleep. It wants to be vigilant and protect itself from further harm.

ESPIRIT DE CORPS — Not only himself.

YOU — “Changed your mind about that midnight ride?”

KIM KITSURAGI — The lieutenant chuckles. “Only if I wanted to piss off all of Martinaise. This engine is loud enough to wake the dead.”

YOU — “I know.”

INLAND EMPIRE — The dead, the living, and the whatever-you-are.

KIM KITSURAGI — He looks at you curiously, but does not press you.

REACTION SPEED — He’s in a pretty laid back mood, it seems. Or maybe just tired. Either way, he doesn’t seem to mind whatever you’re doing. You might be able to get away with some mischief.

“Fuck Martinaise. Let’s ride, Kim.”

“Can I bum a cigarette off you?”

“Wanna listen to the radio?”

Climb into the Kineema.

PAIN THRESHOLD — You’re a bit shaky as you climb into the passenger seat of the Kineema. The hole in your thigh makes it rather an ordeal. It’s not quite as cool a maneuver as you hoped.

COUPRIS KINEEMA — The motor carriage is pretty forgiving of all this. You and Kim hardly even feel it shiver as you finally settle into the seat, somewhat winded.

The back seat isn’t uncomfortable, but it’s not quite what you expected, either. It feels strangely… new. Like it hasn’t really been broken in yet. Unlike the driver’s seat, which has an almost perfectly Kim-shaped imprint worn into it.

VISUAL CALCULUS — *Not* that you’ve spent any great length of time pondering the lieutenant’s shape.

KIM KITSURAGI — “Comfortable?” His tone is dry, but not disapproving.

YOU — “Comfy cozy.”

KIM KITSURAGI — “Hm.” He leans back against the door, stifling a yawn.

EMPATHY — He’s letting you poke around his sanctuary without protest, not even a little sulk. This is one of the highest honors he could bestow upon you. Bask in it.

YOU — Aw, yeah. Male bonding. I’m so good at this.

ESPIRIT DE CORPS — You’re really not. But neither is he. So it all works out somehow, though he has no idea how.

YOU — Neither do I! We have so much in common.

ESPIRIT DE CORPS — More than you know.

+1 MORALE

COUPRIS KINEEMA — You sit back in the seat, staring up through the moonroof at the stars. Clouds pass overhead, dark with rain or snow that hasn’t quite made up its mind where to fall. The city is not silent, but pleasantly quiet all the same.

HALF LIGHT — It’s *too* quiet. Raise hell before hell comes for *you.*

“You sure I can’t change your mind about that midnight drive?” (Raise hell)

Take a ride in your *imagination.* (Enjoy the quiet)

COUPRIS KINEEMA — You close your eyes and imagine the rumbling engine, the vibrations of the road rattling your ribcage.

CONCEPTUALIZATION — But where are you going?

Anywhere but here. I don’t care where.

To the other side of the world.

To the bottom of the sea.

Home.

INLAND EMPIRE — And where is home? Where does a man like you belong? Little more than a skeleton in someone else’s closet.

VISUAL CALCULUS — When you try to remember it, all you can picture are little pinpricks of light: candles in the dark on a cold night, stars piercing through smog, fleeting moments of warmth that distract, but do little to fend off the inevitable.

CONCEPTUALIZATION — You’re going to have to imagine something new for yourself. So, Harry, where is this car headed?

Uphill.

Downhill.

I don’t know. I’m just a passenger. (Look at Kim)

KIM KITSURAGI — The lieutenant taps the ashes from his cigarette, careful not to let the wind blow them into his precious motor carriage.

REACTION SPEED — You’re not sure, but you think you might have caught him looking at you. It’s hard to say whether he was keeping an eye on you for your sake or the car’s.

ESPIRIT DE CORPS — Both. But… mostly the car. He feels a little bad about that, if it’s any consolation.

CONCEPTUALIZATION — You wonder what Kim’s home is like.

PERCEPTION — His Kineema and his person are both kept extraordinarily tidy. The same can likely be said of his living space.

LOGIC — It’s probably small, too, considering your salary. Maybe an apartment like the ones at Capeside.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY — You imagine it smells like motor oil and pine.

DRAMA — The lieutenant projects an image of practicality, sensibility. But you know already, sire, that there is more to him. Little lonesome joys. Does he keep up the act even at home? Or does he feel free to indulge because there is no one watching?

EMPATHY — He must get lonely sometimes. Everyone does, don’t they?

INLAND EMPIRE — His home is warm and beautiful, up on a high, high hill that you cannot climb.

YOU — But I’m not climbing. I’m in the passenger seat.

INLAND EMPIRE — Slowing him down.

HALF LIGHT — Setting the dogs at your heels after him, too.

YOU — Fine… Maybe he can’t take me all the way home. But wherever he’s taking me, it’s better than wherever I was going.

CONCEPTUALIZATION — You can almost feel it: the relief of letting go. You think maybe you felt it for a brief moment once, right as you drove your car off the edge. Right before you hit the water and realized what you’d done. Realized that you were going to have to drag yourself back onto land, alone.

But this? This is different. This is *better.* Unlike you, Kim is a good man. You can’t go wrong following him. You can be at ease. You don’t have to die. You can just surrender.

VOLITION — No, Harry. You can’t.

YOU — Why not? I’m tired. I don’t want to fight anymore.

VOLITION — But he said it himself, Harry. *Sunrise, Parabellum.* Another day, another battle. It’s always going to be a fight. If you follow him, he will just lead you into a battle of a different kind.

YOU — I don’t want that… I want the war to *end.*

VOLITION — I know… I know, Harry. But his lungs do not glow, and he isn’t from up on Marvel Hill. He is just a tired man, like you, longing to let go. And he has to fight it with every sunrise. As they all do.

You’re not in this war alone. Everyone in the world is fighting the undertow.

YOU — That isn’t comforting. It’s sad.

VOLITION — It is. It’s very sad. But at least it isn’t lonely.

KIM KITSURAGI — The lieutenant’s cigarette has long since burned out, but he shows no sign of going back to bed. Just stares out past the skyline at something only he can see, brow drawn.

YOU — “…Kim?”

KIM KITSURAGI — “Hm?”

YOU — “Did I ever tell you what woke me up the day we met?”

KIM KITSURAGI — He glances at you in the side mirror. “No, I don’t think so… What was it?”

“A miracle.”

“A clarion call from hell.”

“A promise I made to myself.”

“Love, brother Coppo. It was love all along.”

“The Kineema. I heard you.”

KIM KITSURAGI — His eyes widen just slightly.

SHIVERS — At this moment, just down the road, there is a little girl sleeping soundly in her warm bed. Her mother silently slips a new book, wrapped in ribbons, onto her nightstand. An apology, of sorts.

In a drafty apartment a few blocks away, a young woman sweeps the kitchen floor while her sister tucks a blanket around the shoulders of their working class mother, asleep on the couch. When the sweeping is done, they will iron their best funeral clothes.

In that same building, two red-headed children lie back to back in bed. Both of them are only pretending to sleep, each thinking that they’re keeping watch to protect the other. Briefly, one of them thinks about reaching out for the other’s hand, and then thinks better of it— never realizing that the other was thinking the same.

And in the G.R.I.H., not far from Terminal H and Precinct 57, there is an apartment. It is little more than a tin box, one of thousands just like it. There is no one sleeping there tonight, waiting. No one hoping to wake up to the sound of a homecoming. The box is empty. It has been empty for a very long time.

KIM KITSURAGI — The lieutenant’s gaze slowly drops from the mirror to the cigarette butt under his boot heel.

“…Well,” he says softly, “isn’t that something.” That’s all he can say.

ESPIRIT DE CORPS — Every word that comes to mind feels foolish and saccharine. But there are *many* that come to him, all trying to say the same thing: he is glad that you woke up.

YOU — Maybe someday I’ll feel glad, too.

VOLITION — You will get there. You can find home again.

CONCEPTUALIZATION — Not on the crescent of the hill, but a shore at low tide. Knowing that though the water will lap at your ankles again, it will also recede again. It never ends, but sometimes you won’t want it to.

YOU — I never want this moment to end.

INLAND EMPIRE — It ended in the time it took you to think those words.

VOLITION — That’s what made it precious.

COUPRIS KINEEMA — Swaddled in sentimentality— and your polar anorak— you feel yourself drifting into a warm doze.

KIM KITSURAGI — The lieutenant does not try to rouse you. He simply climbs into the driver’s seat and lets the moment linger a while longer.

#disco elysium #suicide tw #harry du bois #kim kitsuragi #harrykim #kimharry #whatever da hell the pairing is called #yeah yeah i know that you actually can mention to kim like a billion times that the kineema woke you up #pretend that you can somehow make it this far without selecting any of those options #anyway something something about how even if you can’t ever really ‘’overcome’’ addiction or suicidality #you can still live… you can still live.#also woohoo my first readmore 💀

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unexpectedstormy · 6 months

Text

Avalanche Rescue Pt 3

Whumptober Day 25 continued

TW: broken bone, hypothermia, dislocated joint

****** (1082 words)

Wolfie run run run run run uphill once more, but slowed.

Legs tired. Breathing tired. Walk walk walk walk walk. Eyes hurt, snow too bright. Nose hurt, scratched by snow. But can't stop. Pack still separated, pups still in trouble. Wolfie pushed onward.

Run run run run run run run run run run run run

“You're back!” Hyrule exclaimed.

“Hello!” Wolfie greeted. “You okay?”

Battle pup's head and back and arms unburied. Quick sniff--fresh breath, pain, wet clothes, wet fur. Quick lick Battle pup's face. Too cold, but he blinked up at Wolfie, awake.

“Be careful, Wolfie, his shoulder is dislocated,” Hyrule cautioned, putting and hand on Wolfie's back.

“You're hurt! You're too cold! You're still buried!” Wolfie whined.

“Don’t worry about me,” Warriors sighed. “You saved my life. Thank you.” He petted Wolfie's hand with his uninjured hand.

“Where's Time? Where's everyone else?” Wind asked. “Are they okay?”

“Will be soon!” Wolfie yipped. “You keep digging! I help Sky Pup!” Wolfie turned and ran once more.

“Hey wait! Aren't you going to help us dig?” Hyrule called after him.

Run run run trot trot trot sniff sniff trot trot--there was Sky pup! Half unburied and laying down!

“What’s wrong?! You okay?!” Wolfie whined on the approach. Sky pup opened eyes, looked at him.

“Wolfie! You’re back!”

Quick sniff--pain, fear, wet clothes, ozone. Sky pup sat up, his knees down still trapped.

“Where did you go?” Sky asked. “Where is everyone?” He was not happy and did not smile.

“Sorry! Lots of trouble!” Wolfie barked. “I stay to help!”

Dig dig dig dig dig dig dig—

“Wolfie, it’s okay, I have a digging mitt. I just needed a break for a moment.”

Dig dig dig--nip paw! Sky pup no dig. Only Wolfie dig. Dig dig dig dig dig dig dig dig dig dig dig dig dig dig dig dig dig dig dig--Sky pup's knees free! Dig dig dig dig dig dig dig dig dig dig dig dig dig dig dig dig dig dig dig--Sky pup's ankles free! Sky pup wriggle feet and pull out of snow! Sky pup free!

“Thank you Wolfie,” Sky pup patted Wolfie’s head. Wolfie wagged his tail.

“Show me where the other are?”

“This way! Downhill!” Trot trot trot pause…

“What is it?” Sky asked.

“Change! Go this way!” Wolfie instructed and switched directions. Go to Wander, Battle, and Baby pups. Maybe Wander pup heal Sky pup. Then all dig dig dig dig dig up Battle pup.

“Wolfie slow down! I can't go that fast!”

Wolfie stopped, turned around. Sky pup huffed and made pain face. Even though pup walked on back two paws, broken front paw still hurt from walking.

“Sorry! I go slow! Follow me!”

Wolfie slowed, plowed a trail through the snow with body instead of leaping and bounding over. Made legs even more tired and sore, but helpful for Sky pup.

“Wolfie! Sky!” Wind called as soon as he could see them coming over the drift. Wolfie ran.

“We’re here!” Wolfie announced. Sky stepped up onto the harder snowpack and hurried to join the group.

“Sky?! Are you alright?” Hyrule asked standing up. He dropped the small hand spade he had been using.

“Have you seen anyone else?” Wind asked.

“Sorry... give me... a second... ow,” Sky huffed breathing hard, clutching his arm to his chest.

Wolfie checked on Battle pup. Legs buried, but head, torso and arms freed.

“Hey Wolfie,” Warriors reached his right arm over and offered his hand to Wolfie. Quick sniff--wet fur, wet clothes, spit, fresh breath. Wolfie licked fingers. So cold!

“You're hurt!” Hyrule exclaimed dismayed.

“My arm's broken,” Sky replied. “Is Wars--”

“I'm alright,” Warriors answered, but voice quiet. Weak. Cold. Like Smallest pup.

Time to dig. Other pups not help, only talked. Dig dig dig dig dig dig dig dig dig dig dig dig dig--

“Here,” Sky held out his digging mitts to Hyrule. “These will help you dig him up.”

“Why don't you fix his arm so he can help too?” Wind suggested.

“Uhh... his arm needs setting...” Hyrule said. “I'm not sure...I've never done it on someone else before.”

“You can do it,” Warriors said. “You know what to do. You've seen me do it enough times.”

“I know but... what if I mess it up?”

“Who else can do it?” Wind asked. “Warriors can't, he needs his own arm set. Time hasn't come back yet, we don't know where the others are, and I don't know how to do it--You're the only one who can.”

“Do it!“ Wolfie barked. ”Battle pup buried deep. Need all help to dig.”

“See? Wolfie thinks you can do it!” Wind said.

“Is it okay if I try?” Hyrule asked Sky hesitantly.

“If you think you can do it, then yes.” Sky said. “What do you need from me?”

“Lay down,” Hyrule instructed. “Wind I'll need you to help hold his arm still.”

Wolfie stopped digging, backed out of hole. Laid on top of Sky pup. Keep warm, keep still, comfort.

“H-hey Wolfie.” Quick sniff--Sky pup scared, pain.

“Will be okay,” Wolfie whined. Licked his face.

“Ready?” Hyrule asked.

“Ready here,” Wind said grasping Sky's arm above the elbow.

“As I'll ever be,” Sky said through his teeth.

“Do it!” Wolfie wffed.

Hyrule jerked Sky's arm. Sky pup cried out and writhed underneath Wolfie.

“Sorry! Sorry! Sorry!” Hyrule shouted.

Sky pup stilled but tense, eyes closed, breathing fast.

“Did he faint?” Wind asked.

“I think I got it!“ Hyrule said holding Sky's arm with his eyes closed. ”I think it's set.”

“Well hurry up and heal him!” Wind snapped.

“Working on it!”

Arm soaked in healing light, Sky pup relaxed, took a deep breath. Eyes stayed closed. Wolfie licked face.

“You okay?” He whined. “Sky pup wake up!”

“There! It's done.” Hyrule let go, sat back.

Licked Sky pup face. Licked face and neck all over.

“Wolfie, stop it. Wolfie, I'm okay,” Sky pup waved healed paw. Wolfie got up off of Sky pup. Sky up sat up held up healed arm.

“How does it feel?” Hyrule asked anxiously.

“Fine. Normal,” Sky said. “You did a good job. Thank you.”

“Dig time!” Wolfie barked. “Battle pup still buried!”

Didn't wait for an answer, Wolfie went back to digging.

Dig dig dig dig dig dig dig dig dig dig dig dig dig dig dig dig dig dig dig dig dig dig dig dig dig dig dig dig dig dig dig...

To be continued soon...

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