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fawnheartedly · 3 months

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I'm watching Tericho's latest theory video and it got me thinking about the Prototype's true intention towards the player, and maybe why he killed Catnap.

Neither Huggy Wuggy, Mommy Long Leg nor Catnap attacked us right away. They lurked around. Well Mommy was more directly present. But all three starts off not being a danger. I guess Catnap putting us in the trash compactor was dangerous but seeing how he loves to play cat and mouse and can immediatly be seen lurking around, I think he knew we'd get away anyways.

Added to that, Catnap tells us to leave constantly through the chapter. Not just once, not twice. He wrote everywhere that we had to leave.

We know how eagerly he obeys tye Prototype, so we can assume most of the things he does, the Prototype asked him to. Probably same for Huggy. And Mommy could have been an outlier in following the Prototype but she seemed to be scared of him enough to at least not go against him.

So my theory is that the Prototype doesn't want us dead. He just wants us to leave the factory. He had two occasions to kill us himself, yet he didn't. All three main antagonists eventually tried to kill us in the end of each chapter but Huggy ended up seemingly dead (we know he's not tho), Mommy killed by us and then retrieved by him. He didn't had the time to punish them for trying to kill us. But he did for Catnap. And i think that's why he ended up killing him. Either Catnap wasn't supposed to end us or it was punishment for failing to drive us away without coming to harm.

Poppy and the Prototype are on opposed sides, that much is clear. Poppy wants us to uncover the full truth behind Playtime Co, the Prototype wants us to leave and forget about it all.

So that means there is far more to discover down that damned Factory. Things the Prototype doesn't want us to discover.

#poppy playtime #Poppy playtime theory #i'm so excited for the next chapter #so far the questions have been piling up and while this chapter awnsered some #the large majority are still up #tbh I think the children that where in playcare during the hour of joy are still alive #the prototype did awful things but he seems to genuinely care about the kids #tho that care seem to stop once the kid isn't a kid anymore so...#hmm... a mysterious character for sure #other than the high probability he's not Ollie #cause Ollie and Poppy are on the same side so it wouldn't make much sense #Ollie is probably a toy #or was indeed a baby in 1995 and was kept safe by the Prototype but decided to betray him and help us for some reason #other mysterious character #i think they're linked but not the same character

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inafieldofdaisies · 6 days

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Shōgun (2024) | Chapter 10: “A Dream Of A Dream” | Favorite scenes

“Let your hands be the last to hold her.”

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thesundanceghost · 1 year

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happy valentine's day have some more of these hermanos

#love low quality images with worse quality images laid over top #but seriously that second one is like. my pride and joy. she does indeed wanna fuck a blonde guy #aloto #lupe garcia #jess mccready #jesslupe #a league of the own

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mondaymelon · 1 year

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just this once. (scaramouche x gn!reader)

warnings/notes! sick insomniac reader, scara is a bit of a meanie in the beginning, fluff, implied suggestive content

(a/n) gift for kyoi!! ive been bribed to write this - also this is scaramouche, not wanderer! takes place before sumeru archon quest - requests are open at the time of writing this btw!!

epilogue in the tags!!

enjoy!!⋆｡°✩

________________________________________

"Idiot."

"Hey!"

"What? I'm not the one who's sick right now. Only idiots catch colds." Scaramouche sneered at you, dark violet eyes gleaming cruelly.

"I've got a fucking weak immune system!!" Protesting, you crossed your arms and pouted from where you lay buried underneath the blankets on your bed.

"As a puppet, all I can say is that human bodies warrant more trouble than they're worth. As far as I'm concerned, you're the one who has the lacking side of the bargain here." Scaramouche rolled his eyes at your antics, only laughing quietly to himself when you abruptly sneezed.

Sniffling, you glared up at him. "Ugh, seriously? I'm sick right now, can we just..." You gestured your hands wildly, not exactly sure what point you were trying to prove. "...not?"

"As if."

"Be roommates with Scara, they said... it'll be fun, they said..." Cursing under your breath you sighed dramatically. "Who am I kidding right now??"

The Fatui Harbinger just stared at you, a smile playing at his lips. "Go on, it's fun seeing you so worked up over nothing. Ah~ truly. Why go circuses from Fontaine when you already have such a dramatic show in front of you?" Scaramouche let out a bout of laughter, only pausing when you sneezed yet again.

Groaning loudly, you flopped back onto your pillow with a soft thump. Scaramouche watched your movements as if he had nothing better to do.

"So... are you just... going to stand there? Ominously?" You sent a pointed look at the violet-haired man, arms crossed, eyes half-open and staring down at you.

"Maybe I will."

"Whatever then. Goodnight." You turned over, gripping your plush blankets with one hand with the other propped under your head while you tried not to think about Scara's burning gaze on you. And although you were tired, tired was an understatement, you couldn't find it in you to fall asleep. Either it was the Fatui Harbinger standing by your bedside and seemingly waiting for you to fall asleep, or maybe it was just your insomnia being a bitch. Your heart hammered in your ears. Why now, out of all times, had you had to get sick?

"Hey. You okay?"

What was that?

"Turn around for a second. I can't see your face." There was a note in the man's voice that you had somehow never heard before. The sneering tone was gone, for once and it had been replaced with someone a lot more mild.

"...Okay." Turning around, you felt your face flush at the sight. Some time had passed, and now the bright moonlight streamed into the room through the windows on the adjacent wall. Scaramouche stood there, chin slightly lifted, gaze unwavering, his hair ruffled lightly and an almost worried expression on his face.

...worried...?

Scaramouche leaned forward, brows furrowing at your red face. Gently cupping your cheek, easily taking you by surprise, he frowned slightly. "You're burning up."

"W-What-??"

"Stay here. Don't get up or even try to move or you will overexert yourself. I know your limits far more than you do." Scaramouche pressed a finger to your lips, effectively shushing you. However, his eyes were still uncharacteristically soft, expression weary, almost. He was acting so... soft. And it was almost scaring you. "I'm going to get you an ice pack and something to drink."

Not really sure how to respond, you just nodded.

Scaramouche smiled at your reply. And it was strange. Really, really strange. Bursts of something you couldn't exactly decipher spread throughout your body, lighting up something in your heart. It was hard to describe, as much as it was hard to feel it. As soon as you had broken out of your daze, the harbinger was already gone.

So, you sat there, and waited.

And before long, he was back. This time, carrying a little wooden tray with two cups on it. One for you, and on for him. You didn't even know Scaramouche was capable of acting like this. You gratefully accepted the cup, sipping the drink happily. It was on nights like these that you truly were able to appreciate how lucky you were.

"Are you feeling better?"

"Mhm. Thanks... for well, everything you've done for me tonight." You beamed at him. Your fever had gone down, and now the night air felt cold on your skin. You were in a Fatui encampment in Shneznaya, but the only thing it made you do was make you long for the warm afternoons of Liyue.

Scaramouche had pulled up a chair - when, you had no idea. He silently nodded before trailing his gaze back up to you.

"Still can't sleep?"

"Ah... well..." You let out a sheepish giggle, placing your now-empty cup on the nightstand beside your bed. "You know how it is. I have trouble falling asleep."

Scaramouche stayed silent at that, and didn't say anything. You had begun to think you had somehow offended him, and he was thinking up of ways to dispose of your body before he finally spoke again. "Are you cold?"'

You nodded truthfully before saying, "It's only to be expected, though. Even with the Fatui's high technology heating systems, Shneznaya's permanent winter just can't be beaten." Shivering, you huddled up the blankets on your bed tighter.

"Then...

...Can I sleep with you? Just this once?"

Caught you off-guard was an understatement. A severe understatement. You stared at Scaramouche, who was busy examining the floor, face flushed. "...Can you repeat that?"

"Ugh- You-!" Scaramouche cut himself off, face red. "I'll sleep with you. Just for tonight."

...scara's blushing. "Why so flustered?" you jokingly retorted, somewhat enjoying the current situation.

"Is that a yes or a no?"

"Hmmm~ well, you'll have to give me some time to decid-"

Scaramouche didn't let you finish. He rushed forward, holding your shoulders in his tight grip as he fell onto you. Strands of hair framed his face in a picturesque manner as you stared up at him from where he had you pinned on the bed. Not even letting you stop to breathe, he pressed your wrists above your head and into the mattress, your eyes widening as you felt a warm pair of lips meet yours. He stole your breath away as he pulled back, glistening eyes dilated as he smirked down at you. His usual expression was beginning to dawn back on his face as he leaned into you and whispered into your ear:

"I don't think you'll ever have trouble sleeping again."

masterlist ✩

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starflungwaddledee · 2 months

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Oh, ok, uh...

How about a song You related to Starstruck, like, when she is with Bandee...?

Uh... That's more specific...?

yes, this is perfect! from starstruck's pov, when she is with/thinking about bandee (gen), the song is Run by Jasmine Thompson!

i hid my secrets in a box , i did exactly what you said and now i’m feeling so much better, coz you make me forget so tell me when you run, i wanna run with you tell me where you hide, i wanna come to you tell me where you go, i wanna go there, too even if you fall i will go down with you i will be the one who comes to rescue you tell me where you go coz i wanna be there, too with you, with you, with you, with you

#my art #bandana waddle dee #starstruck dee #asks #music #as with many of her songs and motifs- if you look close enough- there is a spectre lingering around in there #(you will need to look up the rest of the lyrics/listen for that one though)#thank you for this ask!! i always enjoy them! i have soooo many songs that i can indeed get This Specific 😂#i think this song captures both the vibrant delight and effervescence of them being together while also hooking well into her desperation #the joy of running with someone and the urgency of keeping up; but ultimately so so peppy. do you see it? 😂

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novelconcepts · 1 month

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#liv hewson #jasmin savoy brown #glaad awards #yellowjackets #hey hello apparently I’ve made it my job this week to archive these moments of big gay victory #but god I’m so happy for them #and for all the queer people working on this show #and for the Massive Trauma Show to LET queerness be a pocket of joy and identity that these characters can be proud of #it lives in my heart. it brightens a really rough period in my life. I’m just fucking stoked #all the awards but especially the gay ones dude #aw not GLAAD pinning my comment on this video. gay euphoria indeed

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blistering-typhoons · 2 months

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i know you're lying arthur

#heavy heart indeed-#but for real the line following this- ouch #sherlock holmes #john watson #acd holmes #acd canon #the final problem #the eternal joy of just calling him 'arthur'

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dollsome-does-tumblr · 8 months

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Let's put an end to Joy. Great. Death to Joy. (4.06 - "Living+")

#watching roman go through like every stage of physical agony as it dawns on him that he just fired his beloved #do you think he would have gone groveling to her immediately if ken hadn't pulled him into the 'let's be dad' manic grief abyss?#death to joy indeed ..........#🙃🙃🙃#romangerri #roman x gerri #roman roy #succession #mine #i'm gonna fight u kendall

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sphyrne · 7 months

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i know we all know that monstrous regiment is good but also monstrous regiment is so good

#terry pratchett was SOOO very good at writing about. darker topics and so good at balancing it appropriately w humour or lighthearted stuff #the stuff w blouse saying polly et all could not POSSIBLY disguise themselves as women is always so fucking funny #coupled w the fact that they do indeed immediatyely get clokced when they try it #i love it so much #but then in the same book. theres the bit when tonker is like yeah lofty killed two people but they were awful and got her pregnant #and the whole thing w wazzer.#not to mention the Horrors Of War #and geneder roles etc #anyways. yeah. one of my faves. always a joy to read #delete later

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tathrin · 10 months

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An Elvish Lure

Somebody said “using yourself as bait” and my brain spat this disconnected snippet out, so: enjoy a scene in which the Three Hunters try an alternate plan by which to catch-up with the orcs and free Merry and Pippin.

"No," Gimli said.

"Gimli—"

"No," he said again, shaking his head hard enough to make the braids of his beard slap against his shoulders. "No, absolutely not."

"Gimli," Aragorn tried again, "this plan is our best chance to—"

"I said no!" Gimli roared. "I will not have it! Aragorn, I will not!"

It was not Aragorn who answered him. "Gimli, be calm."

Gimli squeezed his eyes shut at that voice, as though he could shut-out the words as easily as he did the sight of the narrow, beardless lips from which they had issues; that golden head; those mithril-bright eyes. Fingers as long and spindly as bare twigs closed on his shoulder, their grip tight enough that he could feel it even through his shirt of mail.

"This is our best chance to save Merry and Pippin," Legolas said. "Perhaps our only chance. Gimli, I am not afraid—"

"Can I not be afraid for you, then?" Gimli asked wildly, grabbing those long fingers and holding them tight. He looked up at Legolas, then very quickly closed his eyes again. He pressed the archer's captured hand to his cheek and held it there, as though he might hold the elf back from this reckless plan as easily. "Orcs hate elves so much, Legolas…"

"That is why it has a chance of working," Legolas said. He sounded so unbearably calm, his woodland accent giving his speech the lilting cant of birdsong. He had sounded so strange to Gimli's ears, once. When had that fair voice stopped sounding strange?

"And if it does?" Gimli retorted. His grip on Legolas's hand tightened. "When it does? What then, Legolas?"

Legolas's narrow shoulders lifted in a shrug. "Then we will fight them."

"Then you will fight them, all alone, until we can come to your aid," Gimli corrected him. "Legolas…" His voice failed him and he had to clear his throat twice before he could force the words out. "Legolas, what if we come too late?"

"It is a risk I am prepared to face," Legolas said simply. "And at any rate, Gimli, I do not believe you will. I have more faith in you and Aragorn both than to let myself fear that I will have to face all the orcs alone. And besides!" he continued with a sudden, fey laugh. "Should it not be the orcs who should fear to face my blade and bow? I slew many of their fellows at Amon Hen, and I will slay many more in these sweet green fields if they will but do me the favor of coming within range of my arrows!"

Gimli looked up at the laughing elf in sad, silent horror.

"We will not have to hide ourselves so far away from Legolas that he will be alone for long," Aragorn said, stepping forward to lay his hand on Gimli's other shoulder, the one that did not burn yet with the memory of Legolas's touch upon his mail. "Orcs are keen of smell, but their eyes are not so sharp in daylight, and their ears will have a hard time hearing anything over the thunder of their own feet upon these plains. Besides, Gimli, we have the cloaks given us by the Lady of Lórien; was it not said that they would help to hide us from unfriendly eyes?"

"It was," Gimli agreed heavily. "But these orcs are fast. And what if they have archers among them?"

"What of it?" Legolas shrugged again, scoffing. "I do not fear crude orcish arrows."

"A crude arrow can kill as readily as a finely-wrought one," Gimli reminded him.

Legolas tossed his head, his golden braids rippling in the dawn. "Only if they strike their target."

Gimli gaped at him in exasperation. "Legolas—"

"No, Gimli, I do not ask you to like this plan, but please. Are we not friends now?" Legolas dropped abruptly to his knees in the soft grass, a position which put his eyes nearly on the same level as the dwarf's. It was Legolas who looked up at him now, his pale eyes glittering as sharply as a sword. "Then please, my friend, cast aside your doubts. Trust me to do this."

"I do trust you, Legolas," Gimli responded automatically. "I do not doubt you. But—"

"Then it is settled." Legolas made to stand, to turn away, but Gimli caught him by the arm and held him still.

"But," Gimli said, his voice a stony growl, "I do not like the idea of you making yourself bait for orcs."

Legolas swiveled on his heels, elvish grace keeping him upright despite the sharp tug of a strong dwarven arm yanking him off balance, and stared up at Gimli. The smile he gave the dwarf was small and fleeting, and there was a heavy sadness in the curve of it that reminded Gimli, suddenly and painfully, of the grey woods of Lothlórien.

"I do not say that I like it either, Gimli," Legolas said softly. "But we cannot outrun the orcs. If they cannot be made to pause their march, they will vanish into Isengard with Merry and Pippin and all chance of saving our friends will be lost." He pressed his free hand to Gimli's cheek and gently stroked the downy hairs there. "I would risk a thousand such dangers for the chance to stop that foul fate from befalling those dear young Hobbits—and I know you would, too, Gimli."

Gimli swallowed, but the aching lump in his throat did not dissipate. "Legolas…"

"The fact that the orcs left the field of battle while the three of us yet lived worries my heart greatly," Aragorn said. His voice, too, was quiet, but a dark tension thrummed through his words like the warning rumble of stone on the brink of a cave-in. "That they put their need to carry away their captives over their desire for slaughter and torment…that worries me, Gimli. Worries me greatly."

Aragorn did not have the keen eyes of the elves, but his sharp grey gaze rose over the plains nonetheless and he stared off into the distance as though staring at the shadows of that terrible band of orcs nonetheless. "I do not know if even this will cause them to turn aside from their path…but if anything will entice them to delay their task, it will be the chance to make sport of a lone and injured elf."

"And so I shall play the bait," Legolas said, before he sprang to his feet, the movement too fast this time for Gimli to stop. He looked down and offered Gimli a fleeting, knifblade smile and declared, "And we Three Hunters will see if we can draw the hunt to us!"

Gimli should have cheered; the words were spoken in the sort of tone that rallied hearts and lifted spirits blazing into battle. But all Gimli could see in his mind was the terrible sight of Legolas left standing all alone, waiting for the orcs to come and find him while his friends hid and watched from safety.

"Legolas…"

"Peace." Elvish fingers pressed against Gimli's lips, stopping his words but not his fears. "Give me this chance, Gimli, and I will turn your doubts aside."

"I do not doubt you—" Gimli started to say again, his voice thick and strangled with the heavy feelings of his heart, but Legolas was already springing away, up the short and stony hillock. Gimli watched him go, his steps as light and swift as the flutter of butterfly wings.

"I do not doubt you, Legolas," he said, the words spoken now in a whisper so low that even elvish ears might struggle to hear them now. "But I fear for you."

Aragorn's hand closed on his shoulder again, warm and steady and lacking the silver-fire touch of Legolas's smooth brown skin. "Come," he said softly. "Let us get under cover, Gimli."

Gimli allowed himself to be drawn away, but his feet scuffed heavily on the uneven grass as he turned to stare behind him at the silhouette of Legolas standing tall and thin against the dawn, pale cloak and golden hair streaming out behind him. He made a fine target for arches up there, Gimli thought sourly; a fine target indeed.

Legolas drew his white knife, and Gimli turned away. He knew that the scent of elvish blood would be needed to draw the orcs' attention; knew further that only with the wind blowing strong and swift towards their quarry did this mad plan have any chance of success, and so he cursed the breeze. Had it only died or shifted, Aragorn and Legolas would have been forced to give up this chance; would have had no choice but to simply run instead, run until they dropped perhaps and even yet fail—but run together, rather than risking Legolas's life alone.

Gimli could not bear to watch Legolas take his blade to his own arm, spill his own blood, to lend verisimilitude to his role as bait; yet he fancied he could hear the sharp glide of knife over skin nonetheless, and he squeezed his eyes shut tight and let Aragorn lead him, stumbling, to the hollow in which they would hide together while Legolas stood out there, tempting danger, alone.

They huddled in their grey cloaks, hands on weapons and breath in their throats, and waited.

And then—and then Legolas screamed.

Gimli started upright, his own breath drawing in for an answering cry of rage and vengeance, but Aragorn grabbed his arms and held him fast. "No, Gimli!" he hissed, hauling the dwarf down bodily back into the small depression in the earth. "No, he is not hurt. This is the lure, Gimli! This is the plan. Be still!"

Gimli let himself be drawn back despite the thundering of his heart against his ribs. He pressed one bare palm against the earth, trying to draw strength from the touch of stone against his skin; trying to find the endurance for which the dwarves were so renowned. But he could not stop trembling; could not stop hearing the echoes of that terrible shrill scream inside his ears.

"I have never heard such a cry, Aragorn," he whispered.

Aragorn's grip on his arm tightened. "I have," he said. His voice was low, almost haunted in the shadows of their hiding-hole. "I am sure Legolas has as well, for his people have long fought the Shadow in Mirkwood—and," Aragorn added, swallowing hard as though against some terrible memory, "he could not have sounded so convincing, if he did not know the sound of an elf in torment."

Gimli's gut twisted and he bit his lip hard enough that he tasted a coppery spill of blood across his tongue. "I would that he did not know it," Gimli said hoarsely. He glared up at Aragorn and added in a sharp voice, "I would even more that he should never experience it himself."

"We are not far," Aragorn insisted. "If the orcs take the bait, we will know it; we are near enough to help. He will not stand alone."

"Not for long," Gimli muttered, "but perhaps for long enough." He held his axe very tightly and wished for a whole host of doughty dwarven warriors at his side—or better, at Legolas's side.

Another cry rose, more warbling than the first piercing shriek; more plaintive, like the screamer was weakening.

Gimli's grip on the haft of his axe tightened until his hand ached. "Aragorn…"

"He is not hurt, Gimli."

"Not yet."

Aragorn had no answer for that.

They sat in silence, straining their ears for the pounding thunder of orcish feet upon the earth; waiting to discover if the enemy would take the bait.

Waiting to learn if the three of them would live through it, if they did.

{read more gimleaf stories here}

#gimli #legolas #aragorn #three hunters #lotr #lotr fanfiction #gigolas #gimleaf #well unrealized gimleaf at the moment i suppose #could certainly be read platonically #but that's one of the joys of their relationship anyway: no matter the particular flavor the love never falters #they're every bit as devoted and delighted by one another whether there's a whiff of romance there or not #and i love that about them because there aren't many relationships you can say absolutely do not CHANGE based on whether it's romantic or no #even the ones that start as friendships and stay as friendships still tend to change somewhat if there's romance (or if there isn't)#but not legolas and gimli #you don't even need to decide which it is when you start writing a story with them because you're writing the same story either way #''you comfort me'' indeed #this ship sails itself all the way to valinor #my writing #my stuff

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