#Damaged but growing [Lucas]

[discount--dracula]

today i'm saying farewell to my darlings (only for a short while, but it hurts nonetheless)

see you in our new home lovelies

[fluentmoviequoter]

S.W.A.T. (CBS Series)

David 'Deacon' Kay x fem!reader

✧ blurbs and celebration fics

A Day Off with Deacon

2.1k+ words | wife!reader | fluff | You enjoy a fluffy day off with Deacon.

Confessions of a SWAT Team

2.9k+ words | SWAT!reader | angst to fluff | You and Deacon fell in love with each other, but didn't tell anyone. When officers closer to your age begin flirting with you, Deacon grows distant and won't tell you why.

Worried for You

2.3k+ words | angst/fluff | You worry about Deacon, but he doesn't know how it feels to be unsure and scared. When you're involved in a school shooting, he learns what you deal with daily.

A New Kind of Fear

2.1k+ words | angst/fluff | When 20 David completes a raid with narcotics, they stumble upon a stalker. The unknown suspect has been watching you, and now Deacon must find him while dealing with the fear you've grown used to.

What We Say When We're Sick

1.8k+ words | sick fic, fluff | Deacon takes care of you when you're sick, and you feverishly confess your feelings for him. Deacon is left to wonder if you feel the same when you're healthy.

Long Distance to the Future

1.3k+ words | fluff | You, Deacon's long-distance girlfriend, surprise him in LA, and then surprise him again with good news.

How Does He Know that You Love Him?

1.7k+ words | fluff, brief angst | Deacon worries about the age gap between you, but you repeatedly prove that you love him, no matter your ages.

The Kay Princesses

2.2k+ words | fluff | Lila's POV | Deacon introduces you to his kids over dinner and game night.

The Kay Princesses' Happily Ever After 2.4k+ words | fluff | 3rd person POV | Deacon wants to marry you, but he has to ensure that his kids understand and agree before he proposes. Then, you have a special question for Lila.

They Know Deacon Loves You (5+1)

3.5k+ words | SWAT!reader | fluff | 5 times someone realizes Deacon loves you, and the 1 time he realizes for himself.

Bloody Work

3.2k words | slight angst, fluff (period fic) | Your ex left deep scars, and when you unexpectedly get your period with Deacon, he comforts you and shows you how wrong your ex was.

The Real Us

2.7k+ words | fluff | You go under cover with Deacon while you're both hiding your feelings for each other. While acting as a couple, you realize that you don't want to pretend ever again.

Undo It

5.2k+ words | angst to fluff | SWAT!reader | You get abducted on your way home and won't talk to anyone after you're saved. Deacon vows to undo all the damage done to you.

My Home

4.5k+ words | angst/fluff | You are Deacon's favorite neighbour, but when you start receiving threats, he notices a change in you. While he and his team search for answers, you are attacked. Deacon returns home to find you and come to some realizations of his own.

20-David on a Plane

3.2k+ words | fluff | 20-David flies to Washington DC, and along the way, you learn why Deacon can comfort you so easily.

Blue and Red

2.7k+ words | angst to fluff | firefighter!reader | You are a firefighter who has a unique rivalry with Sergeant Deacon Kay. When you're injured while working together, Deacon learns why the rivalry started.

Love (Both of) You

4.6k+ words | hurt/comfort | pregnant!reader | After telling your husband you're pregnant, he kicks you out. Going to your best friend Luca's house, you find an unexpected source of comfort in Deacon Kay.

Love (Both of) You More 4.1k+ words | fluff/comfort | You grow closer to Deacon throughout your pregnancy and learn that you aren't the only one who loves him. (This picks up about a month after Part 1 and covers the rest of the pregnancy and birth!)

Don't Touch Her

3.0k+ words | angst to fluff | You and Deacon are abducted by men who want revenge on you. After Deacon is forced to watch them hurt you, it is up to him to comfort you and keep you calm.

Hot or Cold

2.7k+ words | angst to fluff & hurt/comfort | You work in a coffee shop, and when you are trapped in the fridge during a robbery, you can only hope that your boyfriend Deacon will find you.

Hectic Relief

2.2k+ words | fluff | wife & teacher!reader | After a long week of teaching and protecting Los Angeles, you and Deacon find comfort in one another.

Sweet as You

1.4k+ words | fluff | baker!wife!reader | You visit the LAPD to drop off some baked goods and to visit your husband. Mostly to visit your husband.

If the Bun's as Sweet as You 1.6k+ words | fluff | After you find out you're pregnant, you try to use baking jokes to tell Deacon. Unfortunately, he isn't the first to understand you.

Robbery

1.2k+ words | fluff | wife!reader | You're in a jewelry store when a robbery occurs. You text Deacon, and he proves that he will always come to save you.

Your Biggest Fan

1.1k+ words | fluff | ballerina!wife!reader | Deacon brings his whole team to watch you dance, and then promises to be by your side, no matter where you go.

Lockdown

2.8k+ words | fluff, comfort | While covering a court hearing, you get taken hostage with your favorite S.W.A.T. sergeant.

Best (Fake) Boyfriend

2.0k+ words | fluff | When you receive unwanted attention at a fancy restaurant, a handsome SWAT sergeant pretends to be your boyfriend to help you.

You Weren't Supposed to Hear That

1.6k+ words | fluff | shy!wife!reader | After years of trying, you get pregnant. With Deacon's birthday coming up, you decide to surprise him with the news, but he catches on to your nervousness and you accidentally tell him more than you mean to.

You Weren't Supposed to Know That 2.7k+ words | angst to fluff | Deacon is stressed with work and you are shyer than ever, so you don't tell him how sick your pregnancy is making you. When you collapse while home alone, you call Luca and he and Deacon rush to your aid.

Favors and Broken Promises

3.0k+ words | angst to fluff | journalist!reader | When you begin receiving death threats while writing an article on a dirty cop, Deacon Kay reluctantly agrees to protect you. He makes the situation worse before it gets better.

Soft Spot

3.4k+ words | angst to fluff | shy!assistant!reader | When you're kidnapped and used as a pawn, Deacon sets out to find you. Once you're tied up together, he changes his goals regarding your safety, finding a soft spot in the kidnappers and himself.

First and Second Steps

1.2k+ words | fluff | Deacon has missed a lot of important moments, but when you surprise him at work, he gets to watch his baby's first and second steps.

You're Safe

1.2k+ words | fluff | wife!SWAT!reader | Being on the same S.W.A.T. team as your husband provides plenty of opportunities to protect one another and share words of affirmation.

Our Songs

1.0k+ words | fluff | Deacon sings your song every chance he gets, but when he finds out why you love to hear him sing, he introduces more Sinatra into your life.

Every Day After

6.6k+ words | angst to fluff | shy!SWAT!reader | You are Deacon's best friend, and when you're poisoned and nearly killed, his protective tendencies make an appearance as he stays by your side to help you heal.

Because of My Family

4.0k+ words | angst to fluff | wife!Street!SWAT!reader | When you return to S.W.A.T. after having your fourth child, you are fatally injured. Your family gives you a reason to fight.

Think Different, Love the Same

3.9k+ words | fluff | When 20-Squad begins dealing with an activist group, Deacon falls for you, the group's leader.

Accidental CI

3.1k+ words | fluff | When your employer's name comes up in a case, your best friend Deacon calls to ask for your help. He leads you into a dangerous situation, and you come out as more than friends.

Speak Up

1.7k+ words | fluff/comfort | shy!girlfriend!reader | Your shyness makes it hard to speak up for yourself. Your boyfriend Deacon makes it easy.

Lucky Me

2.7k+ words | angst to fluff/comfort | Deacon loves you and he considers himself lucky to have you. Unfortunately, you can't see what he sees, so he takes it upon himself to show you just how lucky he is with you.

The Safest Place is With an Angel

4.2k+ words | angst to fluff/comfort | bodyguard!Deacon x singer | The bodyguard you never wanted quickly gives a new meaning to the City of Angels. After he saves you and helps you sing again, all of your fears disappear in his safety.

Not Since I Found You

2.5k+ words | (angst to) fluff | After Annie was changed by her brain tumor, she left Deacon. Now that he has you in his life, she decides that she doesn't want him to move on and does everything she can think of to sabotage your relationship.

As Oblivious as You Think

2.2k+ words | fluff | Your team thinks you're oblivious about your feelings for Deacon, so they try to push you together. Their plans fail because you already have a boyfriend, and you're not as oblivious as they think.

Proud to Listen

1.1k+ words | fluff | You perform in a talent show, and your boyfriend Deacon is proud of you for singing a song that means something to you.

Dress Up

1.2k+ words | fluff | Lila wants to wear matching Halloween costumes with you, and you're both surprised when Deacon joins.

Paying for the Sins of Our Fathers

3.6k+ words | angst to fluff | SWAT!reader | A new serial killer arrives in Los Angeles with a penchant for girls with bad relationships with their fathers. After you offer yourself up as bait to catch him, Deacon shows you that you're not as hard to love as you think.

Rich for a Night

2.5k+ words | fluff | detective!wife!reader | To catch a thief targeting wealthy couples, you go undercover with your husband Deacon.

Care Now and Forever

1.7k+ words | fluff/period fic | You struggle with iron deficiency on your period and learn during a rough day that Deacon will care for you no matter what.

Care Now and Forever (Starting Now) 1.0k+ words | fluff/comfort | You faint and Deacon takes care of you. As you wonder how he manages to be exactly where you need him to be, Deacon plans to start forever with you.

Always and Never Our Time

4.3k+ words | angst to fluff | SWAT!reader | You love Deacon and Deacon loves you, but you keep missing one another because the time is never right. Until your time, imperfect and late at night, finally comes along.

Always Time for You

2.5k+ words | angst to fluff | After you move to Los Angeles to escape an abusive relationship, you meet Deacon Kay and fall in love. When your ex arrives in Los Angeles, you have to tell someone, but don't want to worry Deacon.

Luck Be A Lady Tonight

2.3k+ words | fluff/brief angst | SWAT!reader | During a weekend off with your team, you run into one of the FBI's most wanted criminals. With a little luck and Deacon on your arm, you catch the criminal in a trap that places him exactly where you need him.

Save a Verse for Me

1.2k+ words | fluff | After hearing a man singing in your neighborhood, you fall for his voice. When you locate his house and sing with him, you discover there is more to love than his voice.

Blurbs

✵ David Kay!

✵ Roman Empire

✵ 20 > 50

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

Steddie Upside-Down AU Part 92

Part 1 Part 91

Eddie laugh cuts off with a snotty scoff directed toward Carol when she’d immediately walked to the thermostat to crank it up. Eddie’s face is a mess of blood and bruising, and he’s listing slightly as he walks. Will wants to grab the phone and call for an ambulance. Have all the doctors in their white coats scan Eddie’s brain for damage, his knuckles for breaks.

He clutches Steve tighter into his side, and stares at Carol as she whirls toward Eddie, brow furrowed as she mutters out a tired, “what?”

Her face is just as bruised and swollen, but there’s no blood clotting along her hairline or pouring out of her nose. And her steps are steady as she moves through the house.

The years of friendship and history trail her every movement in this house. The way she fished the key out of its hiding spot, the way she works the Harrington’s fancy thermostat with minimal fiddling. The way she moves with such purpose, like she knows every spot the floorboard creaks and what every cupboard contains.

It makes Will ache somewhere deep, where Mike and Dustin and Lucas live within him.

Did Steve and Carol have sleepovers, performing late-night missions for forbidden snacks and risky science experiments? Did they grow together, here in the Harrington’s empty mausoleum – elementary, to middle, to high school – chained at the hip until the chain snapped?

Will knows Steve in the way he’s a sword and shield. In the way his words take shape, and his body holds space. But he doesn’t know what haunts him through rooms, trailing behind like a ghost he can’t shake.

He knows the shape of his parents, looming in unreturned calls from hospital rooms, and the way sometimes other high schoolers will walk up to Steve around town, clapping his shoulder and shaking his hand like he’s someone they recognize, even while Steve’s smiles turns fixed and blank.

He knows what he’s observed from the edges of ghosts Steve hasn’t been able to hide.

Will wants desperately to know what’s knocking around inside Steve’s head.

They’ll get him back, so Will can ask.

“You really think that’s going to be enough?” Eddie asks, scowling at Carol with crossed arms.

Carol hits the button a few more times before turning back toward Eddie with a raised eyebrow. “What would you suggest?” She says it calmly, sweetly, but Will’s known enough scary people to see the murderous intent in her eyes.

“We run him a bath!”

Carol scoffs. Apparently, they’re trading them back and forth. “You think that’ll be hot enough?”

“The Harrington’s heat their pool in the winter. I should know, I got dragged into Hell through it!” Eddie gestures expansively at the closed blinds blocking their view of the pool.

“What are you—”

“I think they’re boiler can handle a measly bathtub!”

His Mom chimes in agreeing with Eddie’s plan, but Will barely notices. He stares out at the pool past the closed blinds, trying to capture the scene. The Demogorgon getting it’s claws into Eddie and dragging him through the pool. Steve, ever the hero, jumping in after to save his friend.

Had the chlorine burned? Had they been scared?

Will pulls their connection into himself, desperate to feel their liveliness pulling back. Eddie whips his head around, meets his eyes as he tugs back. Steve doesn’t stir at all.

He’s docile at Will’s side, something else holding Steve’s body upright as he’s trapped in his head. It should be a relief, not to have to lug Steve’s weight up the stairs, but it’s not.

Will wants him to settle his hand on one of Will’s shoulders, let go of some of the burden, show he’s still a person somewhere in there, with limits and needs.

But he goes where Barbara and Will prompt him, nudging him forward with a branding hand on his

“How are we going to keep the headphones and blindfold dry?” Carol demands, but she’s following closely behind, hand brushing Will’s side every now and then, like she’s got her palms raised to catch Steve if he stumbles.

“How hard do you think it’ll be to keep his head above water?” Eddie calls from a few steps above,  not turning around but shaking his head hard enough that his frizzy curls fly around, almost smacking them in the face. “Babies manage it.”

Carol doesn’t reply, but when they reach the second floor, she shoves past them all to lead down the hall, past the plaid bedroom where they’d found Steve curled up in his closet last time.

The room she leads them could fit the Byers entire living room and kitchen in it. It’s large and airy, but empty aside from a soulless painting of a cityscape across from the largest bed Will’s ever seen and a chest of drawers with nothing but a vase and a bouquet of fake flowers arranged atop it.

Will stops for a second, gaping around at the lifeless husk passing as living quarters until his Mom clasps his shoulder, pushing him along.

Carol leads them to a bathroom. It’s sterile and white, lighting like a hospital, tub large and deep enough to fit three grown men.

Will stops, staring down at the empty tub, bubbling with trepidation.

Steve’s vulnerable, possessed, and vacant, and now they’re, what? Throwing him into the fire?

This house is already so vast and empty, swallowing Steve back up like it’s been starving for him since he left. Should they do this here, of all places?

Will’s hesitation doesn’t stop anything. Steve’s placid enough that Barbara can lead him on her own. Once she reaches the lip of the tub, she leads Steve’s foot up and over the lip, settling it in. He follows with the other on his own, foot raised at the exact same height before he lowers it to join the other.

Once both feet are in the tub, Barbara pushes on his shoulders, urging him down in the bath, fully clothed.

Eddie’s shuffled up beside Barbara, reaching into Steve’s pocket and fishing Jonathan’s Walkman out, setting it gently on the porcelain tile below the tub. The headphone chord stretches taught, but the jack stays firmly in the port, just barely reaching its destination.

Carol reaches around Barbara, hand on her shoulder to keep steady as she reaches down to stopper the tub. Eddie reaches down, hands on Steve’s shoulders as he pushes him down until he’s prone, head propped up on the lip of the tub to keep the headphones and blindfold dry and in place.

“I’ve got you, Stevie,” Eddie whispers, but his voice carries in the confines of the bathroom. “You’ll be just fine.”

Everyone stares down at them for a moment, stalled at the threshold. Steve’s skin’s turning pink where Eddie’s hands are still holding Steve’s shoulders, pushing down with force, like he’s a mother getting ready to drown her young.

What will the hot water do to his skin?

It’s Mom that moves first. She turns the knob of the tub as high as it will go, and water cascades down.

It only takes a moment for the steaming water to reach Steve’s feet. He gasps, curling his feet into his ribs until he’s in the fetal position.

Eddie just keeps holding him there, whispering things into Steve’s ear that Will can no longer hear over the sound of the water filling the tub and Steve’s own whining gasps.

Everyone else stares, watching his skin turn a vibrant pink, darkening to red as it crawls up the back of his calves.

It’s not until the water starts raising, engulfing his back and ribs that the screaming starts. It’s guttural and loud, deep in Steve’s throat. It’s reverberating, like static from a misfiring radio, echoing strangely off the walls of the bathroom.

It sounds wrong, like nails on a chalkboard. Like the Demogorgon, screeching before it devours its prey. Like the Demodogs howls echoing from beneath the earth.

Something not Steve is calling out its pain from within him. Will hopes, fervently and with all he is, that Steve’s untouched somewhere in there.

Steve jackknifes up, back lurching out of the bathwater as Eddie does all he can to keep him down. Will rushes forward, dropping to his knees hard enough on the stone tile floor that he feels the reverberations all the way through his teeth. He sinks his own hands into the hot bath beside everyone else’s, pushing him back down.

Even with all their hands pushing, it’s a struggle to keep him under. Steve thrashes his head back and forth, Jonathan’s headphones falling off into the water and floating away on the waves made by his struggle.

Eddie’s sobbing, open and loud, tears trailing down his bloody nose and dripping saltwater and blood onto Steve’s own face.

They trail down Steve’s own cheeks, leaving bloody tears that look as if they’re leaking from his own eyes.

It reminds Will of the one time he’d gone to church with Mike, Christ on the cross, dripping tears and blood, a martyr of his own making as he slowly died.

Steve’s been dying by inches. Will latches onto their connection and yanks. Like he can pull him free from all that smoke, off the cross, into the boiling tub.

Beside him, Will feels Eddie doing the same, still weeping. He’s not pushing Steve into the water anymore, the rest of them strain harder against Steve’s thrashing to make up for it.

Eddie’s cupping Steve’s face, fingers digging into his cheeks like claws, opening scratches that mix with the blood already dripping down his face. “Get the fuck out of him,” he snarls, digging his nails in harder. “Do you hear me?”

“Is it working?” Carol demands, breathless with strain.

No one answers. The bathroom is growing hot even for them. It’s filling with steam and sweat and screams. It’s suffocating. Will wants to flee. To curl into the fetal position and wait for Steve to come back. His Steve. Not this thing.

But then he feels Steve pull back. It’s fluttering against Will’s ribs, like a caged bird straining against its constraints. Feathers flying until it’s free.

Eddie gasps, hand slapping against Steve’s face hard enough that the sound of skin against skin echoes even past Steve’s continued screams.

“It’s working!” Eddie cries.  

Will pushes harder against Steve as his thrashing grows stronger, more desperate.

The tubs full now, overflowing and flooding into the bathroom. Only Eddie’s iron-clad grip on Steve’s face is keeping him out of the water and breathing.

“Not fast enough,” Carol says, voice gravely like her throats all clogged up. “Aren’t you the one that said that the little punk girl doing whatever she’s doing could hurt him?”

“What do you want me to do?” Eddie demands shrilly. He’s leaning forward so far over the tub that his hair’s trailing into it, ends wet.

Will wants to tie it up in a ponytail for him the way he does for Mom sometimes when her hands are wet with dish soap. But then Carol lets go of Steve, storming out of the bathroom with a frustrating shriek down low in her throat, and Will’s got other priorities.

“Shit, hold him, hold him!” Barbara calls, and all three of them press down hard, Eddie fighting against them with his clutching hands.

Steve’s still screaming, and crying, and flailing. He doesn’t know it yet, but his oldest friend just walked out on him, just like his parents and every other friend besides those crouched over him now.

It's going to hurt, once he’s back.

Steve’s flailing more now, like that thing inside him can sense the weakness in their ranks.

Will stays and holds his friend down as he shakes. It’s not a surprise when he shakes them free, sending everyone sprawling down onto the wet tile with a splash.

It is a surprise when the first thing Steve does is lunge forward to wrap his hand around Will’s throat and squeeze.

Will gasps, fingernails raking against the back of Steve’s hands where it’s choking him. Around them, everyone screams. 

Taglist: @deany-baby @estrellami-1 @altocumulustranslucidus @evillittleguy @carlprocastinator1000 @hallucinatedjosten @goodolefashionedloverboi @newtstabber @lunabyrd @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @manda-panda-monium @disrespectedgoatman @finntheehumaneater @ive-been-bamboozled @harringrieve @grimmfitzz @is-emily-real @dontstealmycake @angeldreamsoffanfic @a-couchpotato @5ammi90 @mac-attack19 @genderless-spoon @kas-eddie-munson @louismeds @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @pansexuality-activated @ellietheasexylibrarian @nebulainajar @mightbeasleep @neonfruitbowl @beth--b @silenzioperso @best-selling-show @v3lv3tf0x @bookworm0690 @paintsplatteredandimperfect @wonderland-girl143-blog @nerdsconquerall @sharingisntkaren @canmargesimpson @bananahoneycomb @rainwaterapothecary

Part 93

[therandompagesblog]

SKZ War Chapter 6

The night was unnervingly quiet as Lucas paced his room, the weight of the day pressing heavily on his chest. His parents’ warnings still echoed in his head, but so did the image of Hongjoong’s desperate plea. He couldn’t let it go. Lucas leaned against the window, staring out at the woods beyond their house. The moon hung low in the sky, bathing the trees in an eerie silver light. He glanced at the clock. It was almost midnight.

A soft knock on his door startled him. “Lucas,” Moon’s voice whispered. “You awake?” Lucas opened the door to find his younger brother standing there, fully dressed and clutching a flashlight. “You’re coming with me?” Lucas asked, his voice quiet but filled with relief. Moon nodded. “I don’t think we should do this, but I can’t let you go alone.” Lucas smirked, pulling on his jacket. “Let’s go.”

The walk to the house was silent, save for the crunch of leaves beneath their feet. The cold air bit at their skin, and the darkness seemed to stretch endlessly around them. When they reached the clearing, Lucas stopped, his breath catching in his throat. The fog was back. It curled around the house like a living thing, thick and dark, pulsating with an unnatural energy. The oppressive aura was back too, pressing against their senses and making the hair on the back of their necks stand up. “Are you sure about this?” Moon asked, his voice barely audible. Lucas swallowed hard but nodded. “We have to.” Together, they stepped into the fog.

The temperature dropped instantly, the air growing colder and heavier. The house loomed before them, its windows dark and lifeless. “Lucas,” a voice whispered, carried on the wind. “Hongjoong,” Lucas called out, his voice trembling. The fog shifted, and a figure appeared in the doorway of the house. It was Hongjoong, just as Lucas had seen him in his dreams. His blackened hair was wild, and his hollow eyes glowed faintly in the darkness. “Please,” Hongjoong said, his voice cracking. “You’ve come back. Help me. Free me from this prison.” Lucas hesitated, glancing at Moon. “We shouldn’t,” Moon whispered. “This is wrong.” But Lucas stepped forward, his resolve hardening. “What do we have to do?” Hongjoong gestured to the ground near the edge of the fog. “My body is buried here. The witches bound me to this place, trapping my soul in the house. Pull me out, and I’ll finally be free.”

Lucas knelt, his hands trembling as he began to dig. Moon joined him reluctantly, his movements slower and more hesitant. The earth was cold and damp, and the further they dug, the more the fog seemed to close in around them. After what felt like an eternity, Lucas’s fingers brushed against something solid. “Here,” he said, pulling back to reveal a decayed skeletal hand. Hongjoong’s voice was almost reverent. “Pull me out.” Lucas and Moon worked together, carefully lifting the skeletal remains out of the ground. As soon as the last bone was freed, the fog around them began to swirl violently, and Hongjoong let out a piercing scream. The brothers stumbled back, watching in horror as Hongjoong’s form flickered and shifted, his translucent body momentarily solid before fading again. “Thank you,” Hongjoong whispered, his voice filled with relief. But before they could react, a voice behind them shattered the moment. “What are you doing?!” Lucas and Moon whipped around to see Luna and Isla standing at the edge of the clearing, their eyes wide with shock and fear. “Luna! Isla!” Lucas shouted, panic setting in. “You’re not supposed to be here!” “What are you doing here?” Luna demanded, her voice sharp. “Do you have any idea what you’ve just done?” “Go home!” Moon hissed. But Luna wasn’t listening. She grabbed Isla’s arm and turned on her heel. “I’m telling Dad.” “Luna, wait!” Lucas called after her, but it was too late. The girls were already running back toward the house.

By the time Lucas and Moon returned home, the damage had already been done. Minho was waiting for them in the living room, his expression unreadable. Luna stood beside him, her arms crossed and her face set in a defiant glare. “Lucas,” Minho said calmly, his voice betraying none of the anger he clearly felt. “Moon. Sit down.” The brothers exchanged a nervous glance before obeying, sinking into the couch. “Care to explain what happened tonight?” Minho asked, his tone even. Lucas hesitated, his mind racing. But before he could speak, Luna cut in. “They were at the haunted house,” she said. “They pulled out a body, Dad. A body.” Minho’s jaw tightened, and for a moment, Lucas thought he might explode. But instead, he took a deep breath and turned back to the boys. “Is that true?” he asked. “Yes,” Lucas admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “But it’s not what you think—” “I don’t care what I think,” Minho interrupted. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” Lucas tried to explain, telling Minho about the dreams and Hongjoong’s pleas for help. But the more he talked, the darker Minho’s expression became. When Lucas finally finished, Minho stood, running a hand through his hair. “I need to call Jeongin,” he said.

The family meeting that followed was even more tense than the last. Jeongin arrived within the hour, his presence commanding as he walked into the room. The air was thick with tension as he listened to Minho recount what had happened. When Minho finished, Jeongin turned to Lucas, his piercing gaze making the boy shrink in his seat. “Do you understand what you’ve done?” Jeongin asked, his voice calm but firm. “I was just trying to help,” Lucas said weakly. “Help who?” Jeongin pressed. “A ghost? A murderer? You’ve put the entire pack at risk, Lucas. Including your mother." “How?” Lucas shot back, his frustration boiling over. “He’s just a spirit. He just wants to be free!” “You don’t know that,” Jeongin said sharply. “Your mother put him in there for what he did to her. The story is about how he abused your mother. Hyunjin and Seungmin nearly died putting him in their. Your going to cause a war with Ateez if they realise what you've done." “War,” Minho said quietly, drawing everyone’s attention. Jeongin nodded grimly.

Lucas felt a lump form in his throat. He hadn’t thought about the consequences, about how his actions might affect the pack. “What do we do?” Y/N asked, her voice trembling as she held onto Changbin who stroked her hair. “We contain this,” Jeongin said. “We keep it quiet and figure out how to fix it. But Lucas and Moon—” He turned to the boys, his expression hard. “You two are to stay away from that house. Do you understand me?” Lucas nodded, his heart heavy with guilt. “Good,” Jeongin said. “Because if this gets out, it won’t just be you who suffers. It’ll be all of us.”

Taglist for the iconic readers:

@silentreadersthings @ihrtlix @galaxy4489 @catlove83 @linocz @eastjonowhere @hyunmikim @hpnsfwaddict

[fresh-and-funky]

Party Bag tour:

Mike Wheeler

Clean bag

Keeps comics and books at all times

Chronic note-taker, always jolting down ideas

Pins on bag

Always is late so keeps extra jacket and dice

Resees Pieces for Will

Never lets people listen to his mixtapes (all cheesy/ embarrassing love songs)

(never sent letter to Will)

Keeps memorial polaroid of Eddie

Got the pink triangle pin and guitar pick from Eddie (he was being taught guitar)

Will Byers

Tiger plush keychain from Joyce

Collector/ sometimes keeps things “in case they can be used later)

Art supplies always on hand

Smokes cigarettes and sometimes weed

Pin collection from Mike

An Amethyst for “good energy” from El

Tapes from Johnathon

Has spare keys to everything

Tickets from movie night with Mike

The cure sweater for chilly nights

Dustin Henderson

Always prepared (first aid kid, compass, tape, scissors, etc) Mary Poppins style

Robot toy he always forgets to take out

Backpack because he likes to haul things around

Snacks galore

Character Sheets all kept together

Extra hat

Brush from Steve (to take care of the curls)

Movie tape he's been meaning to return for three months

Tomagothchi has never died

Got the kazoo as a gag gift from Mike and Max

Lucas Sinclair

Reuses sports bag for everything

Slingshot cause he still is a kid at heart

Pep ralley poster to show his mom

Game boy for car rides

Cleans bag every other week, no sooner or less

Max polaroid

Period pack for Max

Flashlight he stole from Dustin

M&Ms as a peace offering to Mike

Grocery coupon for running errands

El Byers- Hopper

Purse from Joyce

Scarf to wrap up hair while its growing out weird

Likes to do art with Will, so often keeps a craft on hand

Lots of papers from studying

Makeup and jewelry were party birthday gifts

Tissues for bloody noses

Polaroids of friends to show off

Socks for cold feet

Wallet to put money she “steals” from Hopper (he lets her take it

Nail polish that puts on everyone (she makes the party match with her)

Max Mayfield

Skateboard strapped on back (and bandaids for fails)

Never threw out “in case” letters from Vecna

Lock picking set and switchblade

Music kept with at all times

Hair ties for braiding back her hair

Keys (including the spare to Steve’s car she stole)

A comic she says isn't hers

Ladybug wallet from El

Glasses for reading (Vecna damaged her eye sight)

A lighter for weed sessions with the party

[zomboivex]

My predictions for each character in TKDB (please don’t take this seriously I’m not here to debate I just want a pat on the back and oatmeal cookies, thanks).

Frostheim

Jin -he will never get full use of his stigma back and the more he uses it the emptier he feels on the inside. Whoops. Speed running depression out here. But he’ll at least get some motivation to ‘take over the institute’ and it will be his goal to work towards.

Tohma - he will locate the ‘spy’ and will learn that the spy isn’t actually what he was thinking it was. And also- he’s a spy as well. Why? Because he gives me major slimeball vibes. Like he’s actually looking for the ‘spy’ because he is a spy as well. And that spy is double crossing. Idk man. Why not?

Kaito - he is going to have a sort of King Arthur type arc. Where he realizes he’s ‘royalty’ and will replace Jin as ‘king’ (in the way future when Jin graduates or whatever). He’ll become less cowardly and gain confidence and strength. And learn that whatever his ‘useless’ stigma is actually quite useful. There’s a reason we haven’t seen it in action. Because we, the audience, would be able to tell that it’s actually very useful from a narrative standpoint but to the characters may seem useless.

Lucas - he’s going to find out that his brother was the ‘exchange’ for his wish. This will reveal to us that every ghoul who makes a wish exchanges something in turn (since they didn’t die- there was something else exchanged and I personally think it’s connected to their stigma usage). The more they use their stigma, the worse off they become with whatever it was they exchanged. But in Lucas’ case- his brother was exchanged so he doesn’t experience the negative effects directly.

Vagastrom

Alan - is going to find out whatever is going on with Dante and will regain some of his ‘self’ because brother he just needs a hug. But otherwise- he’s mostly just going to be pretty stable despite saying he is the least stable/safe to be around. Good for him.

Leo - is going to get demoted from vice-captain. Lose his friendship with Sho. And have a complete turnaround as a character and go through some sort of arc where we find out he’s not actually that big of an asshole. I have more thoughts on this but I want to really wait until the next chapter comes out because he’s been a lot less schemey from the Vagastrom chapter and maybe I thought of his character arc wrong originally so I need more screen time of him but I love him anyways.

Sho - he will think he has a one up on whatever his brother is asking him to do but he’s going to have circles run around him. His friendship with Leo will be damaged (but they’ll eventually make amends). Leo probably will get Sho out of whatever weird shit Hyde is dragging him into.

Jabberwock

Haru - is going to reveal what house he’s originally from (Sinostra) and that he changed houses to keep a closer eye on something. Especially after the clash. But ehhh I don’t really want to speculate too much on Haru. All I know is that Towa is enamored with him.

Towa - is going to watch the tree wither away and then attack Darkwick to ‘unite’ them so that the houses work together to stop him and it begins to grow again. He is NOT going to be revealed as the mermaid. But he’s definitely not fully human. I’m not going to speculate on what he is right now. But maybe he’s that fucking weird oracle thing at the beginning but ‘split’ off from it to try and take human shape. Idk fight me.

Ren - is going to find meaningful friendships and have a very basic but fulfilling story. We’ll watch him slowly start to become more involved in things on campus and actually care about the outcome of things. Also we’ll learn why he hates the ocean so much. My guess is that we’ll find out more whenever we find out more about the mermaid. Because bet he watched a family member die via mermaid attack.

Sinostra

Taiga - Taiga is going to be one of the ones we find out that the more a stigma is used, the more damage it causes to the user. It’s why his memory is so scuffed. He has anomalous dementia probably. I don’t know if I think his stigma lets him have ‘foresight’ because I think his is just letting him be lucky. And that includes some level of foresight but not in the way everyone thinks. He’s going to reveal to us that Hyde is a piece of shit. He does NOT like Hyde (and same, buddy. Same).

Romeo - we’ll learn more about Taiga through Romeo. And how he’s definitely changed. Romeo will also show us what Hyde is up to (as well as Sho). And probably will get himself into a can of worms. Rescue Romeo mission in the future. Taiga gonna go feral.

Ritsu - We’ll find out some shit about how his father helps hide whatever bullshit the institute is coming up with. Probably will reveal to him that his family (father ahem) isn’t as great as he once thought. Will become disillusioned. But he will want to then eventually reevaluate his goals and ‘right his father’s wrongs’.

Hotarubi

Subaru - Subaru is the spy. I’m joking. Maybe. I don’t trust him, though. But I think it would be wildly crazy and funny if he was actually the reason the Clash started. He has some pretty strong opinions that he does keep to himself. He’s scheming and plotting and we’re going to find out much more about him through Leo snooping. Because Leo has good instincts, I think. He’s right to not trust Subaru.

Haku - Haku is the ‘spy’ but not really. He’s a double agent type thing. Works close with Darkwick to try and get info from them by exchanging not as important info. After all- why keep Zenji a secret? Why not rat Subaru out? I think he keeps the real shit to himself but exposes fake things. Maybe. Who knows. He’s got beef with Tohma though and he also works with Rui but also keeps him on a sort of tight ‘watch’ because he has to because Obscuary is under tight observation to begin with. Idk. I don’t think he’s actually fully the spy. He doesn’t seem the type to me.

Zenji - he’s going to keep watching over his brother. And he definitely knows more than what he’s sharing but he’s an ally. There will be an arc where Darkwick finds out about him (Subaru ratted him out 💀💀💀) and then they will try to exorcise him but something will happen to where they decide not to. He’s ‘useful’ enough to keep around and he’s not malicious.

Obscuary

Ed - we’re gonna learn he can time travel and read minds and be OP. It’s why he acts the way he acts. Because he’s known these people in this loop for far too long and knows how it plays out and there’s nothing he can really do to stop it. So he’s just vibing with whatever happens and is just sorta fucking around with everyone. It’s also why he’s not as strong now because he’s still aging every time the loop resets. But we can’t see that actually happening because he’s a vampire so he doesn’t physically age.

Rui - is going to stay cursed and be very tragic. We’re gonna watch him wither into even more of a shell of a man. He’s going to become disillusioned about everything and just try to stay the same as he is but will fail utterly and horribly. But also whenever we get a beach day mission- he’s going to be the happiest. Also we’ll learn he was originally from like Ultio and helped to run the prisons pre-curse and pre-move to Obscuary. And that his curse made him completely change as a person due to now being the ‘monster’ he once held in prisons. I’m gonna be way off base with this. But whatever they do with him I’m ride or die for this bitch all the way.

Lyca - is going to discover Neros sold him out to the institute (for what reason who knows but hahahahaha) and he’s going to come to terms that he’s more anomaly/werewolf than human. And he’s going to be bitter for a while but will eventually overcome it and decide he’s fine how he is because he doesn’t need to be more or less of anything.

Mortkranken

Yuri - is going to dismantle Darkwick General and Frostheim with his bare hands. He’s gonna rip into them with his teeth. He’s going to shred them apart. He’s going to-!!! He will definitely be the one to find MC’s cure. He has to. Plus Mortkranken is the only house with a fucking secured anomaly under their belt. Everyone else has destroyed them.

Jiro - Will find out about his brother’s ghost. Will have memories return to him. He will be the one to tell us what happened with the clash probably (maybe not idk). But he’s going to also have a really bad episode where he goes into another coma. It will be sad hours. Zenji will be almost exorcised. But then MC will do something to help them both probably.

I dunno guys.

I’m throwing shit at the wall and seeing what sticks.

[solarmorrigan]

Between one thing and another, Steve doesn’t end up seeing much of the kids for the rest of the summer, after Starcourt burns down. Their parents worry about them, want to spend time with them, and Steve is trying to recover from a hell of a lot of damage and also find a new job – it’s understandable that they mostly check in with each other via walkie talkie, rather than in person.

He does, however, promise to give Dustin, Lucas, and Mike a ride to school on their first day at Hawkins High (apparently, he is a marginally cooler choice than their parents, and less work than a bicycle). Max declines no matter how much they all wheedle, but that’s an issue for another day

An issue for today is the fact that Steve hasn’t really spent any extended amount of time with any member of the party other than Dustin in nearly two months.

He’s forgotten that teenagers grow.

“No,” is the first word out of Steve’s mouth when he gets out of the car to greet Mike and Lucas, who are both waiting in the Wheeler’s driveway. “Absolutely not.”

“What?” Mike asks, though the smirk on his face says he knows exactly what Steve is talking about. Dustin (already in the car, the first one Steve picked up) and Lucas start snickering.

Steve walks up to Mike, just to be sure he’s seeing things correctly. Back in July, he’d still had to look down to talk to him. Now, they’re nearly eye to eye.

“No,” Steve says again. “You have to cut this freaky teenage growth spurt shit out right now.”

Mike snorts. “Why am I the only one you’re yelling at? Lucas is almost as tall!”

“Because Lucas isn’t gonna be a dick about it,” Steve says. “And we all know Henderson’s got a ways to go before he catches up.”

“Hey!” Dustin tries to interject, but he is soundly ignored.

“What about Will?” Mike challenges.

“What? Why? How tall is Will?” Steve asks, then shakes his head. “Never mind, doesn’t matter, he can be as tall as he wants, he’s earned it. But you--” He points a finger at Mike that seems to be amusing him more than intimidating him. “You are sneaky. And you’re not allowed to be taller than me.”

“Why not?”

“Because I said so. Now everybody shut up and get in the car, we’re gonna be late.”

Steve claps his hands together in the universal dad-slash-coach signal for “let’s go” and Dustin ducks back into the passenger seat while Mike and Lucas settle into the back with minimal teasing or complaining. Once Steve’s backed out of the driveway and started down the road, however, Lucas leans over to Mike and stage whispers, “Wait until he sees how much taller Erica is.”

“Erica isn’t allowed to get taller, either!” Steve snaps. “Everyone just needs to– to– stop growing.”

“Dude, you sound like my mom,” says Mike.

“You sound like all of our moms,” Dustin adds.

“Combined,” Lucas chimes in.

“Shut up. This has nothing to do being anyone’s mom, jesus,” Steve huffs. “You’re all just easier to push around when you’re small. And it was easier to fit more of you into the car, since you keep demanding free rides.”

“Mhm,” Dustin hums, sounding like he absolutely does not believe Steve. “Sure. Whatever you say.”

“You’re laughing now, but let’s see if you think it’s funny when the three of you have to cram into the back once we pick up Robin,” Steve says.

The resulting explosion of complaints puts a little smile on Steve’s face. Maybe the kids have grown, but they haven’t really grown up. Not just yet.

[intermundia]

something lovely i discovered while planning the story of the redemption of one damaged man, is that it turned into telling the story of an entire community that absorbs and guides that individual as he grows towards the light—he couldn’t do it alone, doing it alone is not the point; his growth is predicated on improved relationships with everyone around him and improved moral behavior with a positive impact on the galaxy. everyone who listens to him, assists and corrects him, all participate in the better man that he becomes, so his redemption is everyone’s story, not just his own. i think this is the fundamental difference between the religious concept of redemption and the concept of redemption as applied in a framework of secular ethics.

star wars the films offer the spiritual and religious redemption in vader's final act of selflessness and return to the light, but i'm not entirely satisfied by that—i want to see him develop into a better man. i want to see him experience and embody his redemption, which was always the genesis of the narrative of time travel after death. you can merely die as an individual for religious redemption, you have to live as a person for the secular kind, and nobody builds a life alone; we are inherently contextual creatures, and so becoming a compassionate and giving member of society radiates out into the surrounding spiderweb of strengthened bonds, and makes an entire community thrive instead of wither and break apart. it was just lovely to see the story of anakin's lived redemption ended up demonstrating lucas's ethical directive of symbiosis in a way that the films never really did.

[flzrencent]

matthew sturniolo ,, bones and all au

! warnings ! ; mdni. if you're unfamiliar or uncomfortable with the movie by luca guadagnino i'd advise you not to proceed. blood, lots of it. light gore, but gore nonetheless. cannibalism as a metaphor (or form) of love. heavily based on the acts in the movie bones&all, but you could probably read it without needing to watch the movie. violence. mature themes.

authors note ; sooo basically i've litch never posted on this app. like at all. it took me embarrassingly long to figure out how to use it! i haven't seen this type of fic on here, and im a little iffy on how it'll be perceived and a little concerned about hate on the first post considering the plots insane nature, but i loved the movie bones and all so much and i cannot stop thinking about it, so naturally i had to write something about it and who better to write about than matt! summary ; A life lived under the careful eye of those around her, a carnal urge suppressed, and Matthew Sturniolo — the boy who'd taught her how to love without consuming them all.

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆.

Clean teeth was to be a privilege. Just one bite, and they stain forever.

Eaters; a state of cannibalism, not acquired, but passed down to at birth. The all-consuming, overwhelming urges to consume flesh broken down and seeping into every part of the brain. The only ever growing hunger, the need to eat, to feed.

Skin to skin, layers of it ripped and shredded beneath sharpened teeth and frantic claws, all in which disguised as one amongst all.

Hidden in plain sight is how she lived the first 17 years of her life, and it is how she would live till death.

Her fingers tapped rapidly, nerves at the tips tingling with each bounce of her leg. Her jaw clenched with restraint. It had been a year without an incident, her father told her this morning. He’d like to keep it that way.

She would too, really, it’s her only wish – but, she couldn’t help it.

Saliva pooled in her mouth, quick swallows pushing the thirst down. The dull voice of the teacher talking was drowned through the ringing in her ears, eyes rapidly flickering across the room. 

And then, with a muffled cough, she quickly gathered her things. The class fell silent, eyes confused and tracing her on her way out, her fingers clutched against the old green cross-body bag, knuckles white and teeth bared.

Red covered the lower half of her face, her lithe body stood guiltily at the doorway as her father rushed around her. The familiar route of packing, his voice shouting, profanities directed at her she couldn’t help but ignore through the ringing playing out stubbornly in her ears.

The sticky feel covered her palms, metallic taste lingering in her mouth as her tongue ran over the crimson stained surface of her teeth.

“I’m sorry,” The repetitive mumble spilled from her lips, pushing its way through the blood. It was useless, apologising. The damage had been done, and they would have to yet again flee without a word and the search for her eventually turning cold. Families left broken, and yet her hunger was found disturbingly satisfied.

Her jeans were old, and if you really looked close enough, drops, which once stained red, littered the ankles where she’d dragged herself from that girl’s home. Maybe it wasn’t her - maybe it was the ones from before - but nowadays, they all blended into one.

Nevertheless, nobody batted an eye, and everything would be okay. 

Almost.

Her head, thoughts like a broken record, jumbled with worries and wishes, and wouldn’t stop racing. 

Okay, that's fine. Maybe no sleep would do her good; a reset, almost.

Boots hit the floor, the ugly squelch of mud beneath her feet with the dim moonlight doing little to guide her. The dirt road was long, and she was yet to find the end, or figure out where exactly she’d set herself to go.

Wails disturbed her peace, frame startled beyond what she’d expected. Her feet halted, body frozen in place whilst her eyes searched for somewhere to go – grasping on nothing but dirt and mulch. Fear was irrational, she realised. What could get worse than her own self? Accustomed to the idea of bravery, faux awareness of safety building herself up to get moving again, she set herself onto the scheme of investigation. Her feet moved swiftly towards the sound, and her breaths dwindled to as small and silent as she could get them. The smell of familiarism halted her once again.

Something she’d sensed before - a similarity she’d only heard about, one she was yet to collide with. Then, a shouted ‘Hey!’ was sent her way, and a boy – seemingly around her age – almost covered head to toe in a darker hue she could distantly recognise in such faint gleam began approaching.

It was carnal, animalistic, almost. It seems most things she did were that way.

Silence engulfed the young as they ate, fulfilling the longing desire that she had been saving in hopes of normalcy, because maybe, just maybe, if she ignored it long enough it would fade.

Her knees were red where they dug into the harsh grounds, the rustling of the leaves in the wind taunting her, howls reminding her of the grief she’d brought, eerily familiar to the last time she feasted, seemingly similarly reminding the boy clawing at the same meal.

With slickened hands, shaking with something she didn’t wish to place (a sense of satisfaction), her eyes hesitantly trailed to who was slumped (Matt, she learnt, the name mumbled uncertainly her way after he’d invited her over), propped up on his hands, legs outstretched before him, and head tilted back with steady huffs of air. Curiously, she gazed on the droplets falling their way down the pale expanse of his neck, possibly for too long, because returning back to now caused the girl to meet his stare.

Was this how they felt looking at her? How her father felt?

“Thank you.”

Her words were muttered uncertainly into the wind. Quietly, as if sharing a secret, as if she hadn’t shown him the most vulnerable state one like them, such a force of evil, could experience. Nevertheless, with someone she had only met for the first time just moments ago.

His gaze was cold, and although she couldn’t quite place exactly where it was in the midst of the darkness, she could feel its intensity; the warmth left where he trailed it.

“You smelled hungry, s’all.” His sultry voice caught her off guard, equally dirty hands coming to rub along his jaw. The sight made her shudder.

˚　　　　✦　　　.　　. 　 ˚　.　　　　　 . ✦　　　 　˚　　　　 . ★⋆.

florence ,

first fic hellooooooo?!?!?! i was debating on wether or not i should keep this going so let me know, because i know this typa fic isn't everybody's favourite thing ever so im hoping it reaches the target audience lol

[blackswaneuroparedux]

Anonymous ask: What do you think of the new Indiana Jones movie? And of Phoebe Waller-Bridge?

In a nutshell: From start to finish ‘Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny’ is watching Indiana Jones being a broken-down shell of a once great legacy character who has to be saved by the perfect younger and snarky but stereotypical ’Strong Independent Woman’ that passes for women characters in popcorn movies today.

I went in to this film with conflicted feelings. On the one hand I was genuinely excited to see this new Indiana Jones movie because it’s Indiana Jones. Period. Yet, on the other hand I feared how badly Lucasfilm, under Kathleen Kennedy’s insipid woke inspired CEO studio direction, was going to further tarnish not just a screen legend but the legacy of both George Lucas and Steven Spielberg. The cultural damage she has done to such a beloved franchise as the Star Wars universe in the name of progressive woke ideology is criminal. The troubled production history behind this film and its massive $300 million budget (by some estimates) meant Disney had a lot riding on it, especially with the future of Kathleen Kennedy on the line too as she was hands on with this film.

To me the Indiana Jones movies (well, the first three anyway, the less we say about ‘Kingdom of the Crystal Skull’ the better) were an important part of my childhood. I fell in love with the character instantly. Watching ‘Raiders of the Lost Ark’ (first on DVD in my boarding school dorm with other giggly girls and later on the big screen at a local arts cinema retrospective on Harrison Ford’s stellar career) just blew me away. 

As a girl I wanted to be an archaeologist and have high falutin’ adventures; I even volunteered in digs in Pakistan and India (the Indus civilisation) as well as museum work in China as a teen growing up in those countries and discovering the methodical and patient but back breaking reality of what archaeology really was. But that didn’t dampen my spirit. Just once I wanted to echo Dr. Jones, ‘This belongs in a museum!’ But I happily settled for studying Classics instead and enjoyed studying classical archaeology on the side.

I couldn’t quite make sense why Indiana Jones resonated with me more than any other action hero on the screen until much later in life. Looking like Harrison Ford certainly helps. But it’s more than that. I’ve written this elsewhere but it’s worth repeating here.

‘Raiders of the Lost Ark’ is considered an inspiration for so many action films yet there’s a very odd aspect to the film that’s rather unique and rarely noticed by its critics and fans. It’s an element that, once spotted, is difficult to forget, and is perhaps inspiring for times like the one in which we currently live, when there are so many challenges to get through. Typically in action films, the hero faces an array of obstacles and setbacks, but largely solves one problem after another, completes one quest after another, defeats one villain after another, and enjoys one victory after another.

The structure of ‘Raiders’ is different. A quick reminder:

- In the opening sequence, Indiana Jones obtains the temple idol only to lose it to his rival René Belloq (Paul Freeman). - In the streets of Cairo, Indy fails to protect his love, Marion Ravenwood (Karen Allen), from being captured (killed, he assumes). - In the desert, he finds the long-lost Ark of the Covenant, only to have it taken away by Belloq. - Indy then recovers the ark only to have it stolen a second time by Belloq, this time at sea. - On an island, Indy tries to bluff Belloq into thinking he’ll blow up the ark. His bluff fails. Indy is captured. - The climax of the film literally has its hero tied to a post the entire time. He’s completely ineffectual and helpless at a point in the movie where every other action hero is having their greatest moment of struggle and, typically, triumph.

If Indiana Jones had done absolutely nothing, if the famed archeologist had simply stayed home, the Nazis would have met the same fate - losing their lives to ark’s wrath because they opened it. It’s pretty rare in action films for the evil arch-villains to have the same outcome as if the hero had done nothing at all.

Indy does succeed in getting the ark back to America, of course, which is crucial. But then Indy loses the ark, once again, when government agents send it to a warehouse and refuse to let him study the object he chased the whole film. In other words: Indiana Jones spends ‘Raiders’ failing, getting beat up, and losing every artefact that he risks his life to acquire. And yet, Indiana Jones is considered a great hero.

The reason Indiana Jones is a hero isn’t because he wins. It’s because he never stops trying. I think this is the core of Indiana Jones’ character.

Critics will go on about something called agency as in being active or pro-active. But agency can be reactive and still be kinetic to propel the story along. It’s something that has progressively got lost as the series went on. With the latest Indiana Jones film I felt that Indiana Jones character had no agency and ends up being a relatively passive character. Sadly Indiana Jones ends up being a grouchy, broken, and beat up passenger in his own movie.

Released in 1981, ‘Raiders of the Lost Ark’ remains one of the most influential blockbusters of all time. Exciting action, exotic adventure, just the right amount of romance, good-natured humour, cutting-edge special effects: it was all there, perfectly balanced. Since then, attempts have been made to reproduce this winning recipe in different narrative contexts, sometimes successfully (’Temple of Doom’ and ‘the Last Crusade’), usually in vain (’Crystal Skull’).

What are the key ingredients of an Indiana Jones movie? There are only four core elements - leaving aside aspects of story such as the villain or the goal - that you need in place before anything else. They are: the wry, world-weary but sexy masculine performance of Harrison Ford; the story telling genius of George Lucas steeped in the lore of Saturday morning action hero television shows of the 1950s; the deft visual story telling and old school action direction of Steven Spielberg; and the sublime and sweeping music of the great John Williams. This what made the first three films really work.

In the latest Indiana Jones film, you only have one. Neither Lucas and Spielberg are there and arguably neither is Harrison Ford. John Williams’ music score remains imperious as ever. His music does a lot of heavy lifting in the film and let’s face it, his sublime music can polish any turd.

This isn’t to say the ‘Dial of Destiny’ is a turd. I won’t go that far, and to be honest some of the critical reaction has been over-hysterical. Instead I found it enjoyable but also immensely frustrating more than anything else. It had potential to be a great swan song film for Indy because it had an exciting collection of talent behind it.

In the absence of Spielberg, one couldn’t do worse than to pick James Mangold as next best to direct this film. Mangold is a great director. I am a fan of his body of work. After ‘Copland’, ‘Walk the Line’, ‘Logan’ and ‘Le Mans 66’ (or ‘Ford vs Ferrari’), James Mangold has been putting together a fine career shaped by his ability to deliver stories that rediscover a certain old-fashioned charm without abusing the historical figures - real or fictional - he tackles. And after Johnny Cash, Wolverine and Ken Miles, among others, I had high hopes he would keep the flame alive when it came to Indiana Jones. Mangold grew up as a fanboy of Spielberg’s work and you can clearly see that in his approach to directing film.

But in this film his direction lacks vitality. Mangold, while regularly really good, drags his feet a little here because he’s caught between putting his own stamp on the film and yet also lovingly pay homage to his hero, Spielberg. It’s as if he didn't dare give himself away completely, the director seems too modest to really take the saga by the scruff of the neck, and inevitably ends up suffering from the inevitable comparison with Steven Spielberg.

Mangold tries to recreate the nostalgic wonder of the originals, but doesn't quite succeed, while succumbing to an overkill of visual effects that make several passages seem artificial. The action set pieces range from pedestrian to barely satisfying. The prologue sequence was vaguely reminiscent of past films but it was still a little too reliant on CGI. The much talked about de-ageing of Harrison Ford on screen was impressive (and one suspects a lot of the film budget was sunk right there). But Indiana’s lifeless digitally de-aged avatar fighting on a computer-generated train, made the whole sequence feel like the Nazi Polar Express. Because it didn’t look real, there was no sense of danger and therefore no emotional investment from the audience. You know Tom Cruise would have done it for real and it would have looked properly cinematic and spectacular.

The tuk tuk chase through the narrow streets of Tangiers was again an exciting echo of past films, especially ‘Raiders’, but goes on a tad too long, but the exploration of the ship wreck (and a criminally underused cameo by Antonio Banderas) was disappointing and way too short. 

The main problem here is the lack of creativity in the conception of truly epic scenes, because these are not dependent on Ford's age. Indeed, the film could very well have offered exhilarating action sequences worthy of the archaeologist with the whip, without relying solely on the physicality of its leading man. You don't need a Tom Cruise to orchestrate great moments but you could do worse than to follow his example. 

Mangold uses various means of locomotion to move the character  - train, tuk tuk, motorbike, horse - and offers a few images that wouldn't necessarily be seen elsewhere (notably the shot of Jones riding a horse in the middle of the underground), but in the end shows himself to be rather uninspired, when the first three films in the saga conceived some of the most inventive sequences in the genre and left their mark on cinema history. There are no really long shots, no iconic compositions, no complex shots that last and enrich a sequence, which makes the film look too smooth and prevents it from giving heft to an adventure that absolutely needs it.

And so now to the divisive figure of Phoebe Waller-Bridge. 

It’s important here to separate the person from the character. I like Phoebe Waller-Bridge and I loved her in her ‘Fleabag’ series. She excels in a very British setting. I think she is funny, irreverent, and a whip smart talented writer and performer. I also think she has a particular frigid English beauty and poise about her. When I say poise I don’t mean the elegant poise of a Parisienne or a Milanese woman, but someone who is cute and comfortable in her own skin. You would think she would be more suited to ‘Downton Abbey’ setting than all out Hollywood action film. But I think she almost pulls it off here. 

In truth over the years Phoebe Waller-Bridge, known for her comedy, has been collecting franchises where she is able to inflict her saucy humour into a hyper-masculine space. I don’t think her talent was properly showcased here. 

Hollywood has this talent for plucking talented writers and actors who are exceptional in what they do and then hire them do something entirely different by either miscasting them or making them write in a different genre. I think Phoebe Waller-Bridge is exceptional and she might just rise if she is served by a better script.

In the end I think she does a decent stab at playing an intriguing character in Helena Shaw, Indy’s long lost and estranged god daughter and a sort of amoral rare artefacts hustler. Phoebe Waller-Bridge brings enthusiasm, charm and mischief to the role, making her a breath of fresh air. She seems to be the only member of the on-screen cast that looks to be enjoying themselves. 

To be fair her I thought Waller-Bridge was a more memorable and interesting female character than either Kate Capshaw (’Temple of Doom’, 1984) and Alison Doody (’Last Crusade’, 1989). She certainly is a marked improvement on the modern woke inspired insipid female action leads such as Brie Larson (’Captain Marvel’), or any women in the Marvel universe for that matter, or Katherine Waterson (’Alien Covenant’). Waller-Bridge could have been reminiscent of Kathleen Turner (’Romancing the Stone’) and more recently Eva Green, actresses who command attention on screen and are as captivating, if not more so, than the male protagonists they play opposite.

To be sure there have been strong female leads before the woke infested itself into Hollywood story telling but they never made it central to their identity. Sigourney Weaver in ‘Alien’ and Linda Hamilton in the ‘Terminator’ franchise somehow conveyed strength of character with grit and perseverance through their suffering, while also being vulnerable and confident to pull through and succeed. Phoebe Waller-Bridge’s character isn’t quite that. She doesn’t get into fist fights or overpowers big hulking men but she uses cheek and charm to wriggle out of tight spots. She’s gently bad ass rather the dull ‘strong independent woman’ cardboard caricatures that Marvel is determined to ram down every girl’s throat. If Waller-Bridge’s character was better written she might well have been able to revive memories of the great ladies of Hollywood's golden age who had the fantasy and the confidence that men quaked at their feet.

What lets her character down is the snark. She doesn’t pepper her snark but she drowns in it. All of it directed at poor Indy and mocking him for his creaking bones and his entire legacy. It’s a real eyesore and it is a real let down as it drags the story down and clogs up the wheels that power the kinetic energy that an adventure with Indiana Jones needs. ‘The grumpy old man and the young woman with the wicked repartee set off across the vast world’ schtick is all well and good, but it does grate and by the end it makes you angry that Indy has put up with this crap. I can understand why many are turned off by Waller-Bridge’s character. As a female friend of mine put it, we get the talented Phoebe Waller Bridge’s bitter and unlikable Helena acting like a bitter and unlikable man. But it could be worse, it could be as dumb as Shia LaBeouf‘s bad Fonzie impersonation in 'Crystal Skull’.

I would say there is a difference between snark and sass. Waller-Bridge’s character is all snark. If the original whispers are true the original script had her way more snarkier towards Indy until Ford threatened to leave the project unless there were re-writes,  then it shows how far removed the producers and writers were from treating Indy Jones with the proper respect a beloved legacy character deserves. It’s also lazy story telling.

Karen Black gave us real sass with Marion Ravenwood in ‘Raiders’. Her character was sassy, strong, but also vulnerable and romantic. She plays it pitch perfect. Of all the women in Indy’s life she was good foil for Indy.

Spielberg is so underrated for his mise-en-scène. We first meet Marion running a ramshackle but rowdy tavern in Tibet (she’s a survivor). She plays and wins a drinking game (she’s a tough one), she sees Indy again and punches him (she’s angry and hurt for her abandoning her and thus revealing her vulnerability). She has the medallion and becomes a partner (she’s all business). She evades and fights off the Nazis and their goons, she even uses a frying pan (she’s resourceful but not stupid). She tries on dresses (she’s re-discovers her femininity). Indy saves her but she picks him up at the end of the film by going for a drink (she’s healing and there’s a chance of a new start for both of them). This is a character arc worth investing in because it speaks to truth and to our reality.

The problem with Phoebe Waller-Bridge’s character is that she is constantly full on with the snark. Indy and Helena gripe and moan at each other the entire film. Indy hasn’t seen her in years, and she felt abandoned after her father passed, so there’s a lot of bitterness. It’s not unwarranted, but it also isn’t entertaining. It’s never entertaining if the snark makes the character too temperamental and unsympathetic for the audience to be emotionally invested in her.

I think overall the film is let down by the script. Again this is a shame. The writing talent was there. Jez and John-Henry Butterworth worked with James Mangold on ‘Ford v. Ferrari’ and co-wrote ‘Edge of Tomorrow‘ while David Koepp co-wrote the first ‘Mission: Impossible’ (but he also penned Indiana Jones and the ‘Kingdom of the Crystal Skull’, and the 2017 version of ‘The Mummy’ that simultaneously started and destroyed Universal’s plans for their Dark Universe). I love the work of Jez Butterworth who is one of England’s finest modern playwrights and he seemed to have transitioned fine over to Hollywood. But as anyone knows a Hollywood script has always too many cooks in the kitchen. There are so many fingerprints of other people - studio execs and directors and even stars - that a modern Hollywood script somehow resembles a sort of Ship of Theseus. It’s the writer’s name on the script but it doesn’t always mean they wrote or re-wrote every word.

Inevitably things fall between the cracks and you end up filming from the hip and hoping you can stitch together a coherent narrative in post-production editing. Clearly this film suffered from studio interference and many re-writes. And it shows because there is no narrative fluidity at work in the film.

Mads Mikkelsen’s Nazi scientist is a case in point. I love Mikkelsen especially in his arthouse films but I understand why he takes the bucks for the Hollywood films too. But in this film he is phoning in his performance. Mads Mikkelsen does what he can with limited screen time to make an impact but this character feels so recycled from other blockbusters. Here the CIA and US Government are evil and willing to let innocent Americans be murdered in order to let their pet Nazi rocket scientist pursue what they believe to be a hobby. But to be fair the villains in the Indy movies have never truly been memorable with perhaps Belloq, the French archaeologist and nemesis of Indy in ‘Raiders’, the only real exception. It’s just been generic bad guys - The Nazis! The Thugee death cult! The Nazis (again)! The Commies! Now we’re back to Nazis again which is not only safer ground for the Indy franchise but something we can all get behind.

However Mads Mikkelsen’s Dr. Voller, is the blandest and most generic Nazi villain in movie history. At the end of World War II, Voller was recruited by the US Government to aid them in rocket technology. Now that he’s completed his task and man has walked on the moon, he’s turning his genius to his ultimate purpose, the recovery of the ‘Dial of Destiny’ built by Archimedes. Should he find both pieces of the ancient treasure, he plans to return to 1930s Nazi Germany, usurp Hitler, and use his advanced knowledge of rocket propulsion to win the war. In a sense then he was channeling his inner Heidegger who felt Hitler had let down Nazism and worse betrayed Heidegger himself.

So there is a character juxtaposition between Voller and Indy in the sense both men feel more comfortable in the past than the present. But neither is given face time together to explore this intriguing premise that could have anchored the whole narrative of the film. It’s a missed opportunity and instead becomes a failure of character and story telling.

Then there are the one liners which seemed shoe horned in to make the studio execs or the writers feel smug about themselves. There are several woke one lines peppered throughout the film but are either tone deaf or just stupid.

“You trigger happy cracker”-  it’s uttered without any self-awareness by a black CIA agent who is chaperoning the Nazi villain. Just because white people think it’s dumb and aren’t bothered by it doesn’t make it any less a racial slur. If you want authenticity then why not use the ’N’ word then as it would historically appropriate in 1969? The hypocrisy is what’s offensive.

“You stole it. He stole it. I stole it. It’s called capitalism.” - capitalism 101 for economic illiterate social justice warriors.

“[I’m] daring, beautiful, and self-sufficient” - uttered by Helena Shaw as a snarky reminder that she’s a strong independent woman, just in case you forgot.

“It’s not what you believe but how hard you believe.” - Indiana Jones has literally stood before the awesome power of God when the Ark of the Covenant was opened up by the Nazis, and they paid the price for it by having their faces melted off. Indy has drunk from the authentic cup of Christ, given to him by a knight who’s lived for centuries, that gave him eternal life and heal his father from a fatal bullet wound. So he’s figuratively seen the face of God (sure, he closed his eyes) and His holy wrath, and has witnessed the divine healing power of Christ first hand. And yet his spews out this drivel. It’s empty of any meaning and is a silly nod to our current fad that it’s all about the truth of our feelings, not observable facts or truth.

For me though the absolute worse was what they did to Indiana Jones as a character. Once the pinnacle of masculinity, a brave and daring man’s man whose zest for life was only matched by his brilliance, Henry Jones Jr. is now a broken, sad, and lonely old man. Indiana Jones is mired in the past. Not in the archaeological past, but in his own personal past. He's asleep at the wheel, losing interest in his own life. He's lost his son, he's losing his wife. He's been trying to pass on his passion, his understanding to disinterested people. They're not so interested in looking at the past. He remains a man turned towards the past, and then he finds himself confronted by Helena, who embodies the future. This nostalgia, this historical anchoring, becomes the main thread of the story.The film tries to deconstructs Indiana Jones on the cusp of retirement from academia and confronts him with a world he no longer understands. That’s an interesting premise and could have made for a great film.

It’s clear that the filmmakers’ intention was for a lost and broken Indiana to recapture his spirit by the film’s end. However, its horrible pacing and meandering and underdeveloped plot, along with Harrison Ford’s miserably sad demeanour in nearly every scene, make for a deeply depressing movie with an empty and unearned resolution. 

By this I mean at the very end of the film. It’s meant to be daring and it is. There’s something giddy about appearing during the middle of siege of Syracuse by blood thirsty Romans and then coming face to face with Archimedes himself. The film seems to want to justify the legendary, exceptional aura and character of Indy himself by including him in History. Hitherto wounded deep down inside, and now also physically wounded, Indy the archaeologist tells Helena that he wants to stay here and be part of history. 

It's a lovely and even moving moment, and you wonder if the film isn't going to pull a ‘Dying Can Wait’ by having its hero die in order to strengthen its legend. But in a moment that is too brutal from a rhythmic point of view, Helena refuses, knocks out her godfather and takes him back to the waiting plane and back to 1969. The next thing Indy sees he’s woken up back in his shabby apartment in New York.

I felt cheated. I’m sure Indy did too.

After all it was his choice. But Helena robbed him of the freedom to make his own decisions. She’s the one to decide what’s best. In effect she robbed him of agency. Even if it was the wrong decision to stay back in time, it’s so important from a narrative and character arc perspective that Indy should have had his own epiphany and make the choice to come back by himself because there is something worth living for in the future present - and that was reconciling with Marion his estranged wife. But damn it, he had to come to that decision for himself, and not have someone else force it upon him. That’s why the ending feelings so unearned and why the story falls flat as a soufflé when you piss on it.

‘Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny’ feels like the type of sequel that aimed to capture the magic of its predecessors, had worthwhile intentions, and a talented cast, but it just never properly materialised. In a movie whose pedigree, both in front and behind the camera, is virtually unassailable, it’s inexcusable that this team of filmmakers couldn’t achieve greater heights. 

The film was a missed opportunity to give a proper send off to a cinematic legend. Harrison Ford proving that whatever gruff genre appeal he possessed in his heyday has aged better than Indy’s knees. He may be 80, but Ford carries the weight of the film, which, for all its gargantuan expense, feels a bit like those throwaway serials that first inspired Lucas - fun while it lasts, but wholly forgettable on exit.

I wouldn’t rate ‘Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny’ as the worst film in the franchise - that dubious honour still lies with ‘Kingdom of the Crystal Skull’.  Indeed the best I can say is that I would rate this film at the benchmark of “not quite as bad as Crystal Skull”.But it’s definitely time to retire and hang up the fedora and the bull whip.

For what’s worth I always thought the ending of ‘Last Crusade’ where Indy, his father Henry Jones Snr., and his two most faithful companions, Sallah and Marcus Brody, ride off into the sunset was the most fitting way to say goodbye to a beloved character.

Instead we have in ‘Dial of Destiny’ the very last scene which is meant to be this perfect ending: Indiana Jones in his scruffy pyjamas and his shabby apartment. Sure, the exchange between a reconciling Indy and Marion is sincere and touching. But that only works because it explicitly recalls ‘Raiders of the Lost Ark’. That's what Nietzsche would call “an eternal return”.

I shall eternally return to watch the first three movies to delight in the adventures of the swashbuckling archaeologist with the fedora and a bull whip. The last two dire films will be thrown into the black abyss. Something even Nietzsche would have approved of.

Thanks for your question.

[repeatsquared]

A Life for a Life - 5

Chapter 4 Recap: Drinks with coworkers always ends in gossip. Seclusion from the others was normal, but animosity from a higher up set Alex on edge, hunting for excuses to get out early. When they could, they were still faced with a wall. Trying to stand up to a cruel coworker left them on the ground, a new wound added to the small yet growing list, and they were reminded why they kept their head down.

Word Count: 2,388

Trigger Warnings: Kidnapping, coercion, battery, depression

-------------------------------------------------------

The cab ride was silent. The woman who picked them up seemed nice enough, giving an opening for conversation and expressing concern in Alex's state, but simply drove on with only the gentle strum of guitar playing over the radio when they showed no interest in talking.

Alex let tears run down their cheeks, the goose egg pressed gently against the cold glass of the window as they watched the streets go by. Happy clusters of friends, cars blasting music, the gentle strobe of clubs and bars. All things that they wanted to grab onto so badly, but it was always out of reach.

Their apartment building was spared the noise of reporters now. It was probably too late for anyone to be hunting for a weak interview, and after their avoidance from the morning they were sure that hardly anyone would be coming to their door again. After all, what were they going to find that wasn't already shared from the police report? A stupid office worker, trying to play the hero when they couldn't even stop a bully. Lucas was right. They may not be a liar, but they certainly were pathetic.

The air of the apartment felt colder than before. The silence was deafening, the lack of anything (yes, even a cat at this point) made them feel more alone than they had in years, and the idea that they had to drag themselves into the bathroom and take care of the swell on their forehead only made them feel even more pitiful.

Looking at the mark in the mirror made Alex cringe, carefully poking around the tender skin. It had bruised very quickly, a crude mixture of purple, black, and yellow at the very top where it had swollen. Their eyes were red from tears, only adding on to the disgusting mix of colors. Part of their eyelid was swollen as well, blocking off a corner of their peripheral that Alex never realized they had used so often. But it wasn't bleeding. A positive on top of the shit sundae they had been served.

Being beaten wasn't something they were used to, and thus they weren't exactly sure what to do except for make up an ice pack out of a washcloth and a bag of frozen vegetables that had sat freezer burned in the bag of the appliance. It stung, sending more tears to their eyes at the contact, but after a few moments began to soothe.

They settled onto the couch, barely listening to the nightly news. Another fight had already broken out between Claec and Limitless, in a new part of the city. There seemed to be no reasoning, no threat to be stopped, just a brawl. This time there was no collateral damage, no possibility of death on either side. Just an unnecessary beatdown. It was disgusting. But the faint light and the quiet descriptions were enough to lull them into sleep.

Alex was awoken by light streaming in through a partition in their blinds. It sat almost directly across their eyes, making them squint and groan in annoyance. The sound was only mimicked when they tried to roll over, inevitably laying directly on the massive lump on their head.

Sitting up was a challenge, sending their head spinning. And, upon closer inspection in the selfie camera of their phone, they realized the swelling had only gotten worse. It would probably be a good idea to visit a doctor. Although, that only came with more complications. And another taxi ride. Driving themselves didn't seem like the best idea in such a state.

Alex pushed up, slowly making their way to the shoes they had carelessly kicked off from the night before, slipping them on. They still wore the same outfit from the night prior, having fallen asleep in it, but they couldn't bring themselves to care how disheveled they appeared, or if they reeked of BO or not. Once something was done to bring down the throbbing of their head, they would grab a shower and put some effort into their appearance.

The walk to the street went undisturbed. Like they had guessed, no reporters at the door. They had better places to be, better people to interview. It wasn't a shock. That's just show bus'.

They waved a hand at a black car cruising down the street, stepping towards the curb. It slowed to a stop, and Alex could hear a click as the doors unlocked. Perfect.

Inside was the same man as the day prior. Alex couldn't remember his name, or even if he had heard it. The man nodded with a crooked grin, his teeth matching it, waiting until they were inside and buckled before starting ahead.

"S'prised i's you again!" He announced, his loud voice making his passenger cringe. "Where y'off ta?"

"Hospital," Alex sighed, resting their head back and staring at the ceiling. "Gotta get something checked out."

"Getcha there in no time," the man nodded, not prying into the details, and fell into silence. Thank god.

Alex blinked a few times, studying the roof of the car. It was nice. There wasn't the usual excess of dust or grime anywhere, it seemed to have very little use, or at least was cared for excessively. The seats felt like leather, though they weren't sure if it was real or not, and again, not even a speck of dirt sat on the ground.

They suddenly felt self-conscious about their appearance, shrinking in a bit to try and hide how disheveled they were. It was a very nice car, if they were a cabby they would not be looking forward to cleaning this thing out after some bum like them rode around for a while.

They watched the streets go by, unfamiliar with the route the cabby was taking. The hospital wasn't a place they visited frequently, and while they could likely find it fairly quickly, they didn't have the quickest route there memorized. The city was too unpredictable for that.

The streets were fairly busy, which was usual for a Saturday. Alex found themselves listening intently to the sounds of the cars, the occasional beep of a horn, muffled music playing from restaurants. The cabby played no music, and said nothing. It was a change from the day before, but one that they didn't pay much mind to. Maybe it was out of respect for Alex's silence.

"Comin' up on it in a minute," the cabby eventually announced, with a quick flick of attention into the rearview mirror, catching Alex's eyes briefly before returning to the street.

They nodded, though returned to looking out the window with confusion. They didn't recognize this part of the city. It certainly didn't seem like where they remembered the hospital was.

The sidewalks were paved in old bricks, uneven and jagged. They were also narrow, with the faces of the dense line of buildings only about 5 feet from the curb. It looked like incredibly old apartments, lots of windows and numbers decorating almost every door. They looked around, hunting for street signs, but even those were limited or hard to catch sight of while the cabby zoomed by.

The driver appeared to be nervous, tapping on the steering wheel, shooting looks all around the car as he drove. He refused to look back at Alex again, despite how much they tried to stare him down.

"This isn't-" They paused, gulping down the anxiety that tried to rise in their throat. "I don't think this is the hospital." Their voice was barely above a whisper, trembling and cracking. Oh, god, what was going on?

He didn't respond, and instead slowed to a stop. Alex followed his stare to a group of younger looking individuals, standing in a circle in front of one of the many identical buildings. They all were sunglasses and black masks over their mouths and nose, sporting dark, casual outfits of sweatshirts, jeans, and combat boots. They were staring straight at the car, and Alex couldn't tell if they were just observing, or if they had been waiting.

They didn't want to find out, reaching for the back driver's side door and yanking on the handle. It pulled, but the door didn't open. They felt their heart race, looking back to see the group walking towards them, eyes snapping open.

"Let me out." Alex demanded, trying to pull on the lock, though that was stuck fast. "Let me out, right now!" Their gaze shot instead to the driver, a desperate plea in their eyes, but he had his head down, now ignoring both Alex and the group that was just outside of the car.

Two of them stayed on the passenger side, the other two moving to the drivers. One of them bent over slightly, and despite their eyes being completely covered Alex could feel them burning into their own. The person raised a hand, motioning with their finger for them to move back to the passenger side, and waited.

What were they supposed to do in a situation like that? Alex froze up, painfully aware of the pitiful tears now trekking down their cheeks. They shifted back over, settling back onto the passenger side. They waited for what would happen next, trying to gauge what they could do. But their mind was blank, panicked. They couldn't think.

The sound of a click snapped them from their thoughts, looking up just in time to see the door whip open, two hands reaching out to grab onto them. They felt impossibly strong, holding fast, even after they shouted and reeled back. The one who grabbed them laughed, a deep and raspy voice. He was enjoying this.

Alex felt their blood run cold, failing to struggle until they were pulled out of the car. They went on autopilot, letting any reflex take over. What their body settled on was swinging their leg, slamming the hard leather of their shoes into the knee of the man who had grabbed them. At the sound of a shout, they felt the grip loosen, and threw themselves back, barely catching themself from falling and breaking into a sprint.

But they couldn't get far. The other two were on them almost immediately, and a fist was driven into their stomach, sending them reeling to the ground with a choked gasp. Stars flooded Alex's vision, their core screaming and ribs aching from yet another hit. They didn't even react to being manhandled back to their feet and unceremoniously dragged through one of the doors. From a glance out of their peripheral, they could see the cab driving off, taking a turn down one of the maze-like streets. And just like that, they were alone, left with four people (probably criminals) who could kill them in an instant.

They had barely noticed one person leave the cluster hauling them inside until the sound of three loud clicks, deadbolts on a door, echoed through the bland room. It was dark inside, sheets of plywood plastered against the windows blocking out the sun, or curious eyes. Tiles lay on the floor, most of them cracked or damaged in some way. Three shop lights installed in the ceiling gave off no brightness to the room, either broken or simply turned off. A couple of old chairs and small tables were tipped over and pressed against the walls, and a gray curtain hung in front of the entrance to a hallway, obscuring what lay beyond it.

Alex was released, pushed to the ground, along with the hiss of a woman, ordering them to "stay down and keep quiet" before she and two others marched off, pushing past the curtain. They did as told, keeping their head down, eyes wide and body trembling. They were painfully aware of the presence behind them, of the person they assumed to be leaning against the door, tapping their foot impatiently on the cold tile under their knees.

It felt like an eternity for anything to happen, and at that point Alex was starting to come down from the shot of adrenaline running through their body. They had confidence when they were first pushed into the room, but that was slowly being enveloped by fear.

"I guess it was stupidity," a voice suddenly announced, catching Alex's attention and breath in their throat. "Because you certainly are not brave."

Alex swallowed, their saliva suddenly feeling like cement in their mouth, eyes daring to inch just high enough to catch sight of sight of a pair of black, shining leather boots, laced with a fluorescent green string. Tears stung their eyes, threatening to fall to the ground, their breath growing ragged the closer to man got to them.

An exasperated sigh caught them off guard, staring straight down at the green laces that sat only a feet away. "Ya know, it's rude to not look at someone when they're talking to you." The man lifted his foot, pressing it under Alex's chin with just enough pressure to angle their face upwards, those dark brown eyes boring into their own. "That's better."

Alex took the time to investigate the man. It was definitely Claec. He was dressed differently than before, sporting black jeans, green tank top, and a black leather jacket. His hair was styled in tight curls resting atop the shoulder pads of his jacket. He certainly didn't look like a super villain, but that didn't stop Alex's heart from attempting to escape the situation via their chest.

Claec narrowed his eyes, in a way that resembled disgust. Or maybe concern? "What are the tears for?" He knelt onto one knee, grabbing onto the side of Alex's face in one swift motion, his grip gentle but firm as he used a thumb to wipe at one of the trails of tears. "I didn't hit you that badly, did I? Guess I scared you pretty bad." His voice came out as a hum, and the odd expression was gone, replaced by a grin as he suddenly tightened his grip, standing and dragging Alex to their feet.

Once up, he let go, turning around and walking towards the curtain with a wave of his hand. "You're no fun." He sighed, the curls of his hair bouncing as he shook his head. "Come on, we've got business to attend to."

Chapter 6

[mania-sama]

Trick or treat!!! 😁

hello, dear! welcome to my humble abode! dig into this bowl to get some candy… ah! you’ve got a fanfiction line explanation! a rare gem indeed.

this excerpt is from if you need me, dear, i’m the same as i was:

He’s on the court before Sakusa is. He’s across the net before Argentina can celebrate their victory. He’s grabbing Oikawa’s shoulders tightly before anybody else can get to him. Iwaizumi stares into his estranged best friend’s glassy, confused, uncomprehending eyes. He’s shaking Tooru’s shoulders, desperate as he yells: “You are having a heart attack!” And Hajime is fifteen and three-quarters, learning emergency CPR for his new part-time job as a lifeguard. He thinks that it could come in useful. He thinks that saving people isn’t a job he would mind. And Hajime is sixteen, watching Tooru recover from his surgery, and he realizes he will never play professional volleyball. He wants to help people like Tooru forever — people who want to dedicate their whole life to a sport but have a body that strives to prevent their goal every step of the way. He can’t do that as a player on the court. And Hajime is seventeen, trying to convince Tooru to eat a sandwich even though he is adamantly insisting he isn’t hungry. He discovers sports medicine isn’t just about the physical ills and pains. To be a good athletic trainer, he has to see every aspect of a player’s well-being, and that includes their mental health. And Hajime is eighteen, standing alone in the airport and experiencing loss for the first time. In order for Oikawa to grow as an athlete, he has to cut away the weed strangling his roots. Hajime lets him without complaint. This is part of his new career, after all; if he helps athletes succeed, they would all, one day, leave his medical care. And Hajime is twenty-seven, losing his best friend for a second time at the end of the first set of chest compressions. At least three ribs have cracked under his pace and pressure. He pinches Tooru’s nose, pries his jaw open, and breathes air into his lungs twice. His ring and pinky finger automatically find his pulse point. Nothing. Seeing that no medical equipment has arrived, he starts the second set of chest compressions. Oikawa’s bones creak and give way under his desperation. He knows CPR like the back of his hand; if the ribs are breaking, that means it’s working. It doesn’t get rid of the panic and pain at the thought of how much damage he’s doing to Oikawa’s body. The paramedics are a second too late with their LUCAS device at the end of the last compression. He dives down for another round of mouth-to-mouth, recognizing, faintly yet viscerally at the same time, that Oikawa’s soft skin is pale and rapidly cooling. At the junction between his neck and jaw, Iwaizumi searches for a heartbeat. Breathe. Nothing. Breathe. Nothing.

this entire segment, as i intended, is meant to be read completely out of breath, gasping and choking on every single word. it’s meant to feel like the world is rushing and crumbling around you. it’s meant to be read at the speed of lightning, each word cackling and breaking. the periods in the paragraphs are merely suggestions; every paragraph starts with an and because the last sentence, the last paragraph never really ended.

it’s meant to be, in all intents and purposes, to be one continuous run-on sentence. unfortunately, that would be rather bad form for me as a writer. i don’t have the skill to pull it off just yet.

when you get to the “breathe. nothing. breathe. nothing.” it’s not supposed to be a gentle breathe. it’s supposed to be a gasp, panicked and hurting and desperate. it’s a cry, a sob of pain. medically, he’s doing a very measured recovery breath to force oikawa’s lungs into the action of breathing. mentally, it’s everything but measured. the “nothing” is crying. the actual sob with tears. nothing! he is screaming, knowing that his best friend is fucking dead, but he is saying nothing as he dives into another breath.

it should be read, more accurately, as: “gasp. please, please. don’t leave.”

and this all really stems from the line directly before this excerpt:

“Holy shit,” Iwaizumi whispers, all of the air leaving his lungs.

everything just rushed out of him. he has nothing left. and then, the buzzer sounds with this:

Sixteen to fourteen. Team Argentina wins Olympic gold.

that’s the last line of clarity before everything shatters. literally, the sound breaks with the buzzer as the entire world falls away and rushes at the same time.

this is probably my favorite part of the entire fic, one of my favorite things that i have ever written to date. i put a lot of care into this. everything i wrote came from the heart, and i hope how i intended it to be read translated well.

[chocobochaserstories]

Jackrabbit (FFVII Story)

Jackrabbit - Part One Fun little story idea, I'll see if I lose interest halfway through. Age shifting for my convenience: Tseng (36) Reno (32) Elena (17) TW: Suicide mention, referenced teen pregnancy, terrorism, child soldiers,

"The bunny is cute and speaks in squeaks, but the hare is a wise creature that speaks in tongues because the woods are cold and the trees are listening. The rocks whisper among the cold and the jackrabbit carries on without a word because he knows not to test the ways of the wood." -- Luca, 11.24.2024

“What exactly is so bad about a group named after bunnies?” Elena questioned, pulling her ripped pant leg free from where it’d snagged on the jagged metal of the rubble. 

“I know that you’re a rookie and all but you’ve seriously never heard of the Hares?” Reno questioned, shining his PHS flashlight over a drop to see how bad it was before he threw himself off the ledge. “Listen, kid, the Hares are insane, and I don’t mean that in an overstatement.”

Reno kicked the broken metal door out of the way. Elena followed behind him, posing her question. “I mean, I’ve heard of them, but they’re just a gang of wannabe crimelords, aren’t they?”

“Listen, ‘Lena, you and Emma were lucky to grow up on the plate. Two parents workin’ for Shinra, stable home, relatively safe neighborhood,” Reno approached a mainframe computer that might’ve once controlled the reactor, cursing quietly to himself when it appeared the parts had been taken, likely by a scrapper. “But I didn’t have that luxury.”

“Your point?” Elena questioned. “I mean, no offense, but your background about coming from the slums isn’t exactly a secret to the Turks.”

Reno rolled his eyes and ruffled her hair, chuckling as Elena bristled and yelled at him. “Listen to your elders and let me finish.”

“The Hares aren’t just ‘wannabe crimelords’... Though it’d be fuckin’ great if that’s all they were.” Reno “The Hares were a group of assassins and bounty hunters, and were known for their brutality and skill. They were associated with Avalanche, or they were at some point. Honestly, it’s kind of hard to know if they were a sub branch, an alliance, or whatever. And their methods were known to be barbaric. They’d recruit kids off the street, leave ‘em damaged, resorting to self mutilation and addictions to cope with the trauma. Most often left their members mentally scarred and psychologically unstable, which fed into a big ‘don’t trust anyone’ mindset down in the slums.”

Elena’s brown eyes widened at the description. “You say that like you’ve had experience.”

Reno shook his head. “If you’re implying I’m an ex-Hare or some shit, no, no I wasn’t. Dated a girl down in the slums who went on to become one, though. I don’t know, gods, I was probably your age back then. Honestly, I still don’t know if we ever really dated or we were just horny teens who mutually enjoyed fucking.”

“Gross.” Elena’s nose wrinkled at the visual of her superior in that light. “I don’t want to hear about that.”

Reno chuckled. “Yeah, yeah. But anyhow, it was just me, my sister, and my girlfriend against the world.”

“You have a sister?” Elena hadn’t known that.

“Had one. She went missing when I was like sixteen. She was fifteen at the time. Police told us she was a runaway. They closed the case a couple months later when they found her shoes neatly set aside in a reactor. She knew how a reactor works. She knew there wouldn’t be a body to find.” Reno sighed. “I just wish I knew what drove her to suicide.”

“I…” Elena was at a loss for words. “I’m so sorry.”

Reno didn’t say anything. A tense silence fell over the bombed out reactor. A clatter sounded, followed by a soft curse. Reno’s eyes narrowed. “We’re not alone here, it seems.”

A pair of hooded figures stood among the reactor rubble. One wore a sheepskin-lined jacket and the other had a toolkit fastened to her hip under hers. Was that a girl? Reno couldn’t be sure, since the Hares tended to be as young as they were. He imagined the small sized Hare was probably a girl due to the delicate, bony frame, but it could just be a sickly little boy, not that it exactly mattered; the Hares were technically wanted criminals as far as Shinra was concerned. 

“Pincer them, and don’t let them escape.” Reno instructed Elena in a hushed tone before drawing his rod. He raised his voice back to an authoritative speaking tone. “Alright, pipsqueaks, we can do this the easy way, and you two can surrender, or we can do this the hard way. Either way, you two are coming with us.”

“You Turks usually carry pink guns with rhinestones and butterflies?” The Hare in the sheepskin put his hands up, abandoning the gun in its holster on his hip.

Elena narrowed her eyes and huffed out a cry of ‘rude!’ She focused her gun on the male Hare. “Big talk for a street rat with a compact Glock. Yeah, don’t think I didn’t ID that little toy you’re carrying.”

“Aw, and they said girls weren’t supposed to have dirty mouths. Though maybe I shouldn’t be so shocked since you’re playing in the all boys club.” The Hare sneered.

“You two, enough banter,” Reno tapped his rod on his shoulder and cracked his knuckles on his free hand. “Now, hands up, the both of you- yes I mean you too, young lady- and just follow us out and no one gets too badly hurt.”

Both Hares put their hands up and took a step back. The boy’s boot hit the ground and the metal under them quaked. Reno’s eyes widened. “The Hell?”

Elena fell to the ground as she lost her footing, her gun toppling out of her hold and her blonde hair falling into her face, obscuring her vision. The Hare kicked the gun away and picked his partner up. How was he standing? What had triggered the earthquake? Was this an earthquake? 

“So long, shitbirds.”

***

“Explain to me just what the hell went wrong.” Tseng’s eyes were narrower than usual as the Turks stood before him, both covered in dust and soot and ruined suits.

“Encountered a pair of Hares, one did something in the reactor and triggered an earthquake. I don’t know, it’s all kind of a blur.” Reno shrugged. He’d failed missions before, plenty more embarrassing than this.

Tseng scoffed. “Define ‘something’.”

“He stomped on the reactor floor and made it feel like the whole damn place was coming down,” Reno scowled. “Probably hit an unstable spot in the rubble, was lucky he didn’t collapse the place.”

“And you expect me to believe that a child knew enough about an unstable reactor ruin to trigger a structural-based attack?” Tseng’s hands were folded in front of him. “You’re both dismissed. Hit the showers and I expect a full report from both of you, detailing exactly where the actual fuck happened.”

Elena sighed in a tense relief when she got out of the briefing. She was definitely in trouble, she knew that much. She was a rookie Turk, brand new, and she wasn’t quite sure the boss wasn’t going  fire her ass if she kept messing up. She pressed the elevator buttons and headed up to her home. Her sister didn’t live with her parents like she did. She wasn’t really sure where Emma’d gone. Her sister was one of the many Turks who’d defaulted after Tseng took over as Head of the Turks following the fall of Veld. She had zero clue where she’d gone though. Military training was Emma’s entire life; What was she supposed to do outside of Midgar if she wasn’t actively working for Shinra? 

“Elena, welcome home.” Her mother was folding laundry when she got the front door unlocked. “Dinner’s in the kitchen, your dad said he’d probably be late in the office, so he probably won’t be home until after you get to bed.”

“Mom!” Elena blushed. “I’m not a little kid anymore.”

Her mother laughed. “No, no I suppose you’re not. You’re a brave, strong Turk.”

“Investigative General Affairs Agent,” Elena corrected. “You’re not supposed to call me a Turk, you’re not supposed to know I am one!”

Her mother laughed. “Oh please, Tseng and I have been friends for the last twenty years, don’t act like I don’t know what you do.”

Elena sighed as she reheated the plate of fish and vegetables. Her mother had grown fond of fish when she was pregnant with her sister. Her mother had grown up in the Midgar undercity, but Elena and Emma were born in Junon. She’d never had access to fish since Midgar was landlocked. She was lucky enough to get some now that she and her husband lived on the plate. 

Both Emma and Elena took after their father. Both were blondes, and Emma had their father’s blue eyes. Elena had her paternal grandmother’s brown eyes, though she’d died when her father was young, her paternal grandfather too, though he’d died recently. He didn’t like her mother, or the girls, so she didn’t see him often, if ever, personally. Her father had a rocky relationship with his dad, and she honestly didn’t know anything about her mother’s parents, other than her mother had mentioned her own mother died when she was very young, younger than when her husband had lost his mother. No one really knew where Elena really lived, and her mother had made it pretty clear that she should keep it quiet. Her parents were important to Shinra, so she figured that it was a safety matter. 

Her parents were young when she and Emma were born. Her parents were sixteen when Emma was born and nineteen when Elena was born. Her mother had her and her sister when they lived in Junon, and they hadn’t moved to Midgar until Elena was about eight. Her mother had mentioned that she was very lucky that their father had a spot with Shinra secure, or things could have been much rockier. Her mother had legal training and political science degrees, but she wasn’t a lawyer, even if she had all the prerequisites to be. She worked with Reeve in his division, where she wrote laws and contracts and clauses and the like. 

Her mother set a folded set of pajamas on the counter. “Leave your uniform out of the hamper when you shower. I’ll sew it up for you.”

Elena mumbled a thanks as she began to wash her plate. 

“What happened to it?” Her mother asked, beginning to chop up vegetables in what Elena recognized as meal prep. For her parents to both work full time and her herself working now, they didn’t have much time to prepare meals.

“I fell, is the short answer.” Elena rested her head on her hand. “I kept getting it snagged on reactor scraps and once the damn thing was ripped I kept catching the rips on the rubble.”

“Language, dear.” Her mother tsked softly, setting the carrots and celery into the large silicone cubes to freeze. Elena recognized she was probably making soup. “You alone or were you partnered?”

“Reno,” Elena started. “Rude’s out in Modeoheim for something, Tseng didn’t tell Reno and me.”

“Reno, hm?” Her eyes darkened, and Elena couldn’t tell what exactly crossed her mother’s turquoise eyes; anger, sadness, fear, anxiety. She sighed and went to the refrigerator. “A shame, we’re out of bones.”

“Bones…?” Elena pondered out loud.

“For soup.” Her mother shook her head. “I’m certain your father took the few we had to work and fed them to the dog. You know how she is.”

Elena sighed and picked up the pajamas. “Yeah, yeah I know.”

“Good night, Elena.”

[qwuilty]

seeing gapteethed's post reminded me i need to post my headcanons so um.

Oooh you're gonna read my indepth A&D headcanons below oooooooh

Ethan:

The youngest of the two siblings, Ethan is about 2 years younger than Carlie was.

His parents i think are fairly well off enough but not like Rich, i see them kinda like Scott Pilgrim’s parents, being able to support themselves and their kids and unintentionally kind of spoiling him in a way due to being new parents.

Because of his powers he doesn’t have a lot of long term scarring (more often than not something would inevitably ‘reset’ him back) but he does have some crowded teeth and acne scarring from even before he got his powers.

I headcanon he definitely has autism and ADHD (I mean look at him. It's canon to ME), and I think he also has some form of anxiety disorder and being prone to spiraling but he’s coped with it through distraction most of his life. None of these are diagnosed due to generally being brushed off as “just how he is”.

Struggles mostly with fine motor skills and focus leading to his clumsiness, over time he’s gotten better at socializing with others but still tends to have his ‘moments’ hence his general antics. Lucas and Carlie were his only real friends growing up.

He’s “straight” on paper, more so bisexual with a fem lean. He’s not even in denial, it’s just something he hasn’t really thought about and since he wasn’t 100% Into Guys like Lucas was, he just kinda left it at “Well i must be straight then”. Yknow that post that’s like “I think im nonbinary but I have to work so I don't really care about that rn”? That’s Ethan’s approach to his identity.

High-school level education, he never really saw much point in continuing it further and instead worked for a while until deciding to take the risk to open Gamehaven. Owns about the largest portion of the company due to the general assets being under his name.

In terms of work he doesn’t really do well with numbers + has a very loose idea of actually Running A Business but he does put in a lot of work in terms of physical stocking of shelves, event planning, and can handle most of the basics. What he lacks in understanding he makes up in enthusiasm.

His special interests mostly consist of superheroes (even before getting his own powers), the crown bowl, and gaming in general with heavier focus on series like Monster Hunter and Fallout. Hyperfocus is both his greatest strength and worst weakness as well as general tendency to bounce from interest to interest.

Irish American, similar to him in CAD.

Has a lot of little rusty skills he’s picked up over time, he’s actually not very mechanically inclined but he does enjoy creative stuff and can do some repair work with the help of Lucas and some videos. He’s innately curious.

Owns two separate phones, his actual one and the burner he calls the “Analog Phone” for all the calls to take as Analog. Until he exchanged numbers with Lilah, he never actually really used it.

Lucas:

Only child of a single mother, no real confirmed reason for this one it’s just Vibes.

Italian American, I think I saw somewhere someone said this was canon to CAD Lucas but i don't know if i ever actually found that out, it does feel right to me.

Used to play baseball like CAD Lucas had, but unlike him he kept up more with it. I see CAD Lucas being more bulky, bear type build with some muscle definition and A&D Lucas is more otter style build because he does more general workout + some slight “for aesthetics” reasons compared to pure bulk, also hero work just entails a lot of physical exercise.

Has to deal with chronic pain, as he has no form of natural ‘healing’ the physical damage and overexertion has caught up with him and it flares up every so often. What doesn’t help is he’s stubborn as an Ox and pushes through it, even when he REALLY shouldn’t. Some days are fine, he’s able to work and move around perfectly fine and some days he’s hobbling around and having pain spikes as well as generalized dull aching. More of a “throw back an Advil and just pretend it isn’t hurting” kind of guy.

Just generally very bad at being completely honest about himself and his emotions, he’s able to balance being “open” with others in a mostly sarcastic joking way and yet being incredibly closed off in terms of his actual feelings. He’s very cautious and has been burnt before. Constantly on the edge of being confident in himself in terms of physical aesthetics and terrified of anyone actually getting to know him.

Because he, again, has no form of healing he has a lot of small, faint scars on his body that have had to been patched up by Scott, they’re mostly healed but they still stay on the skin.

He’s canonically gay and I also see him as Demiromantic bordering mostly Aromantic. He’s much more comfortable and driven to physical intimacy than anything further than that and usually that’s fine for him, but his romantic intimacy skills are much more rusty because he just doesn’t feel that as strongly.

Has been friends with Ethan since elementary similar to CAD, did have a crush on him more so around middle school when he was coming to terms with being gay but those feelings have mostly come to pass and he sees him more platonically now. Also had his growth spurt later than Ethan, a fact that Ethan greatly enjoyed for a few months until he finally caught up with him.

Autistic, just on a much more ‘stealth’ level compared to either Ethan and Scott. He didn’t really want to delve too deep into it, so he’s gotten by just being “A little intense about things” or “Just a little weird at times”. Gets obsessive over his hobbies and interests, but plays them off more casually if not talking to Scott or Ethan because he fears judgment.

The least close to Carlie out of the three, but the two had been fairly close for his standards. She was the first person he felt comfortable coming out to (Or more so just happened to be the one in the room at 2 AM at a sleepover when he felt he had to get it out to SOMEONE) and she swore not to tell anyone about it. They had a relationship where they simultaneously knew very little about each other but also trusted the other on an unspoken level.

Went to a community college for about a year, loosely following for a computer science degree before taking the risk with Ethan for Gamehaven to put in some of his savings for a share of the company.

Handles most of the orders and works along with Ethan front-desk, being sort of the glue holding the other two together. Also able to lift heavier machines and move things around due to being the strongest of the trio.

TTRPG fan, enjoys games with solid gameplay loops and a focus on story, also enjoys playing 40k Warhammer.

Scott:

My specifics are still kind in the air about him, but I imagine him being mixed with (for now unless things change) a Greek-German father and a Turkish (GET IT CAUSE BIRD) – Indian mother. Mostly grew up in Germany as the middle child of three siblings who moved ‘temporarily’ to America to pursue a degree at MIT and live with some family there.

Due to his disability and general lack of ability or desire to see his family however, he is essentially landlocked in America and is unable to see his family back home unless they’re able to go over to see him.

Still knows a good bit of German but it has become more lost to time, doesn’t know much as much Turkish, Greek, or Hindi besides a few key phrases here and there.

I think his family is very well off, much more so even compared to Ethan’s, thus even allowing Scott to go to MIT along with general scholarships and such as well as allowing him to live in a fairly expensive apartment, though along with working he also does do additional work with repairs and coding to keep himself above waters and pay for additional technology.

Graduated with a Bachelor of Science in Computer Science, Economics, and Data Science (at the cost of several gray hairs on his already early graying head), mostly focusing on his degree at the cost of his social life so Carlie was one of his only friends and first and only partner before her death.

Wasn’t very close with Ethan until her death, in my mind they have a very ‘my dumbass brother’ type relationship.

In terms of the business he handles the accounting side and numbers of the business, technically has the least share of the company but he doesn’t really care to “own” Gamehaven anyways. He just wants to show up to work, get his paycheck, and do something he finds fulfilling. (Plus Ethan and Lucas tend to be more understanding of his needs and problems than a traditional work environment)

A massive geek at heart, having fixations on sci-fi or fantasy media like Beserk and Star Wars. Didn’t engage much with it out loud back home but has been able to slowly break out of his shell at Gamehaven because of the already very geeky environment and become more Him.

Also Autistic, in fact he’s the only one who is formally diagnosed. Low empathy, struggling with black and white thinking as well as adjusting to change. Depressive like in canon, varying levels of functioning depending on energy levels. Strongest symptoms relate mostly to insomnia and negative self image.

Demibiromantic and Amantesexual, but again, only partner he’s had has been Carlie.

Picks up multiple hobbies and skills to keep his mind busy, in terms of games he enjoys mechanics focused ones such as Dwarf Fortress, Rimworld, and Factorio. Also plays 40k with Lucas and enjoys RPGs like Zelda and Fallout, being more a fan of the earlier games compared to Ethan preferring the later games.

His hair is naturally curlier, around a 2C texture, but to make it easier to manage he tends to straighten it down.

Big fan of console modding and right to repair, not as Full Speed for the sake of jokes as his CAD counterpart, but does still hold a very pro-linux standpoint.

Prone to compulsive lying out of a desire to either keep things close to his chest or to protect others.

Does try to make sure he has a good physical health in terms of taking medication and doing the general things he Should, but he's not great at taking care of himself on a mental level. Also just general hygiene issues that come with depression.

[zablife]

Hello Lee! Here I am ready to fill your inbox with requests. As I am in love with the way you write Luca I’d like to request the prompt “are you even real?” With him. It’s a horror / psychological prompt but feel free to write any genre you want! 🖤

Hi Shark! I adore this prompt and wrote it immediately, but Tumblr ate the first 500 words 😭 and it took me some time to return to this one. I've used Luca x Aurora (my OC) pairing from My Sun My Moon and All My Stars here which I hope you'll enjoy!

Darkness and Nothing More

GIF credits: upper left @areyenotfondofmelobster, upper right @twvstedsouls lower left @madame-amour, lower right @insane131

Two gunshots pierced the thick summer air, followed by the crash of a Tiffany lamp. The elegant drawing room was plunged into eerily still darkness before Aurora's body staggered forth into the silver moonlight. Collapsing in a heap, she lay silhouetted in shadow beneath the open window. As a gentle breeze rustled the curtains, it carried away a whisper of smoke from Luca's revolver.

Meanwhile in the distance dogs began to bark at the disturbance, calling Luca out of his haze. Rage from moments earlier turned to despair as he surveyed the damage, hands trembling with shock. Losing his grasp on his weapon, the heavy metal clattered onto the blood soaked rug. In a show of repentance, Luca dropped to his knees by his wife's side, cradling her head in his lap.

The rosary tattoo on his forearm came into view above her forehead as he brushed the hair from her once sparkling hazel eyes. He watched helplessly as they turned dull, fixing upon his in a trance like stare. Urgent pleas spilled from his lips as her head began to loll in his hands. "Stay awake, amore. Talk to me. Tell me what you see." He strained to hear Aurora as her mouth struggled to form words. “There's only darkness,” she whispered on one last jagged exhalation of breath.

Luca roared in agony, pressing her chest to his as though the closeness might resuscitate her. When he felt her arm drop listlessly at her side without pulse, he wept uncontrollably. Lowering her to the floor and placing her arms in peaceful repose, he shuddered at his actions. Eyes darting and hands fumbling through the shards of colored glass, he found his gun. Without hesitation, he placed it to his temple and pulled the trigger.

The next morning Luca awoke in his bed, the blinding sunshine exacerbating a pounding headache. He pitched forward, head in his hands, as he attempted to piece together the events of the previous evening. The copious amounts of liquor made it difficult to recall, but he felt the lingering tension in his back and shoulders from the escalation of emotion. He remembered how he attempted to subdue Aurora with a kiss, only to feel her palms shove into his chest scornfully. He was certain she said she was leaving. She had threatened it often enough, knowing the effect it had on him.

As he blinked against the bright light, a new memory flashed behind his eyelids in horrifying detail. His stomach turned as he saw the gun at his side drawn in warning before he realized he was firing into her back. Gulping harshly, he recalled the terror and guilt clutching at his heart before turning the gun on himself.

Opening his eyes he studied his hands in bewilderment. He died, yet here he sat without a scratch. His pulse began to race as he wondered precisely when reality had given way to delusion. Perhaps it was all a terrible dream?

"Aurora?" he called in a raw, cracked voice. His arm shot out beside him only to find her side of the bed cold and empty. Throwing the covers aside, he rushed from the bedroom, panic growing as he searched the house for his wife in vain.

Finally he came to the sitting room. Dread bloomed in his chest as he prepared himself for the discovery of her body. Giving the heavy oak doors an urgent shove, he stopped short at the sight of the unblemished Tiffany lamp. With renewed fortitude, he paced toward the carpet and forced himself to look upon the spot where Aurora bled to death.

Instead of crimson stains, he found an immaculate looking rug which caused him to furrow his brow in confusion. Bending down to examine the wool fibers with his fingertips, he felt a sudden dizziness overtake him when he realized it was as pristine as the day it arrived. His eyelids slammed shut as he muttered, "Thank God."

However, the relief was short lived as he considered the alternative. Luca pinched the bridge of his nose as the throbbing pain behind his eyes resumed. It seemed Aurora had left him in the night as she promised and he sighed heavily in defeat.

"Is something wrong?" a gentle lilt floated through the air.

Luca's head shot up at the sound of Aurora's soft voice, scanning the room for his beloved. He soon found her, standing behind him with a smile warming her delicate features. His body flooded with a sense of gratitude that she was not only unharmed, but in high spirits.

As he slowly approached, his gaze rested upon the shine of her dark curls and the glimmer in her eye. She looked more angelic than ever in the early morning light. "I know I don't deserve this second chance," he confessed. "But you're here," he announced in amazement, the stress of the morning breaking him. Cupping her cheek in his palm, tears sprung to his eyes as he asked in amazement, "Are you even real?"

She cocked her head at his strange behavior. "Of course, I'm real," she chuckled at his astonishment. "As real as you," she added taking his hand and guiding him toward the window for some fresh air.

Luca rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand gently, savoring the feeling of her soft skin against his. He wanted this to serve as a reminder to treat her with the utmost care. After glimpsing what might come of his temper, he vowed to change. This was a new beginning for them and he wanted her to know things would be different.

"Tesoro, about our quarrel..." he began.

"It doesn't matter now," Aurora hushed him with a gentle kiss. As they parted she pointed to the bustling street below. All their neighbors were gathered, talking amongst themselves in hushed whispers.

"What's going on?" Luca asked, craning his neck to see beyond them. When he turned to look back at Aurora, an icy chill shot down his spine as he found himself addressing an empty room. Luca shook his head, sure he was going insane.

Hearing footsteps on the stairs, Luca sought answers. He followed the maids to the street below just in time to see police solemnly remove two bodies on stretchers. Although the dead had been covered by white sheets, the form of a man and a woman could still be seen beneath them.

He listened to the reverberation of voices through the courtyard until they became too faint to distinguish. Although he didn't understand why, he was being drawn away from the light with each passing moment. Fighting to remain for an explanation, he overheard one last exchange.

"Why would he do such a thing? Mr. and Mrs. Changretta were so in love," the upstairs maid stated sorrowfully.

The housekeeper shook her head in disagreement, "There was only darkness there and nothing more."

------------------

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[teddypickrwritings]

HELLO!!!! i see that u do character x character and im respectfully humbly and looking at u with big sparkly eyes if u could possible perhaps maybe write ithaqua x luca? 🥺👉👈

Resting - Night Watch x Prisoner (IthaLuca)

A/N: My belief that Luca can be shipped with anyone (within reason) remains strong. Thank you for requesting! Apologies that this took a bit to write, life stuff kept me busy. ^^;

Despite what many believed, Ithaqua did not hate people. It was true that he was unsociable and…off-putting, to say the least. But it couldn’t be helped. He had barely interacted with a single person besides his mother for years. His victims didn’t count.

Ithaqua just preferred to observe everyone’s interactions. It was a form of amusement for him. But no one amused him more than a certain electrically-charged survivor.

Luca was a bit of a strange case in terms of personality. He liked talking to people, often carrying conversations, but spent a lot of time holed up in his room. He was well-mannered because of his noble upbringing, but could be as loud and impulsive as the lightning that coursed through his body. Ithaqua found him to be charming.

“You know, chasing you around is like a game of cat and mouse,” Ithaqua once said to Luca post-match. He had tried to keep his feelings of annoyance down—it wasn’t a secret that Luca was an easy target, but the prisoner’s evasiveness had been exceptionally high today.

“Cat and mouse, huh? Interesting comparison,” Luca mused, his fanged smirk growing. “A lot of people here are like cats in a bad way—always throwing hissy fits. It can be such a bother…but you, well, you’re like a giggly cat. If cats could giggle.”

Ithaqua, of course, giggled at that. And Luca’s smile upon hearing it made the slight embarrassment. “You are more like a rat,” the masked man quipped. “And I’m not sure why. You just are.”

Luca pretended to be offended. “Why, Mister Ithaqua, that was rude of you,” he laughed. But it turned into a wince of pain as he was suddenly struck with a small headache. “Ow, ow…!”

The lighthearted mood immediately dissipated. “Are you okay?” Ithaqua asked, a bit of concern in his voice. He knew it must be something related to Luca’s brain damage.

“Yes, yes. I’m fine,” the shorter man muttered. He ran a hand through his messy brown hair, a bit of static making it raise up a little. “Ah, what were we talking about?”

“Cats and rats,” Ithaqua deadpanned. He grabbed Luca by his collar and started dragging him away. “But not anymore. You better get some rest right now.”

Luca protested the whole way back to his room (wait, how did Ithaqua know where it was?) but wasn’t really struggling like one normally would in a match. Anyone they passed by didn’t move in to help at all, either out of fear or confusion.

Ithaqua practically kicked down the door and dropped Luca onto his bed covered in paper. “The state of your room is something to behold,” he said sarcastically. He couldn’t help but look around at the various notes and bits of machinery strewn everywhere. “So this is what you’re always up to…”

“Of course!” There was pride in Luca’s voice. “I told myself that no matter how spotty my memories get, I will be able to finish this machine.” He grabbed a fistful of his hair again with a hiss—the headache. He forgot about that.

“Well, you’re certainly not going to work on it now,” Ithaqua said firmly. He released that the sharp ends of his stilts could potentially stab through the papers, so he sat down and quickly took them off. Then he went to close the curtains so the sun wasn’t streaming in Luca’s face. “You better sleep right this instant.”

Luca looked at him suspiciously. “Since when did you care about people? And me, to an extent?” he asked.

Ithaqua narrowed his eyes. “You’re saying that as if I’m a cold, heartless monster,” he growled. He sat on the edge of the bed with a sigh. “Maybe I am heartless in a way. Emotions have become intolerable for me. But still, don’t just assume that I’d hurt you without reason.”

“That’s not what I was implying at all,” Luca said. He sat up and put a hand on Ithaqua’s shoulder, static electricity crackling faintly. “I just don’t ever remember you acting like this towards anyone.”

Ithaqua felt even more ashamed because he was right. How annoying. Wasn’t he supposed to be helping Luca feel better and not the other way around?

“There’s no shame in having emotions,” the prisoner continued.

“Ugh, shut your mouth already!” Ithaqua finally snapped, glaring at him. “You should be resting right now!”

Luca didn’t seem that fazed by the outburst. “If that’s what you want,” he said. He laid back down and turned to lay on his side, back facing Ithaqua. “Feel free to let me rest in peace.”

A few moments of silence. The tone in the prisoner’s voice…it was so infuriating! Yet, Ithaqua couldn’t help but wonder if that was a subtle invitation for him to stay. “I’ll stay, just to make sure you actually fall asleep,” he huffed.

A sly and content smile appeared on Luca’s face as he heard Ithaqua drag the desk chair next to the bed and sit in it. Oddly enough, despite the taller man being a hunter, he felt safe knowing that he wasn’t alone. And he felt grateful that he wasn’t sleeping on a hard surface like in his prison cell. Luca finally shut his eyes and fell asleep.

And when he woke up about an hour later, he was surprised that Ithaqua had fallen asleep as well. The mask muffled his slight snoring, but he was definitely sleeping.

Luca’s heart warmed at the sight. It was kinda cute seeing him looking like a napping cat. And it was, well…sweet of Ithaqua to have been serious about staying, not to mention surprising that he had fell asleep. Maybe he was truly the one that needed to rest.

“Sleep tight,” Luca whispered. He didn’t dare to try and move Ithaqua to his bed. But he was bold enough to kiss the forehead of his mask very, very gently.

Ithaqua’s dreams became pleasant after that.