#I can't take another idiot complaining about choices

[kristhething-blog]

The misogyny in Jegulus fics

"Lily is getting in the way of Jegulus" - How often do you really see people hate on Lily for "getting in the way"?

Are there fics in which Regulus (as a biased narrator) insinuates that he doesn't trust Lily? Yes. Are there fics in which Lily is James' ex? Yes. Is either of these inherently misogynistic? NO.

I'd give you surrogate Lily, but that's barely a thing since out of the three fics with this tag on AO3 only one is Jegulus (the others are Drarry with side Jegulus, and Sirius/Severus).

And if you want a percise number of fics bashing Lily, you might be tempted to search within Jegulus fics ("Surrogate Lily Evans Potter" || "Surrogate Lily Potter" || "Surrogate Lily Evans" || "Manipulative Lily Evans Potter" || "Lily Evans bashing" || "Bad parent Lily Evans" || "Lily Potter bashing" || "Bad parent Lily Evans" || "Lily Evans Potter Bashing" || "Bad Lily Evans Potter"). It shows 48 fics (if you exclude the "NO Lily Evans Potter Bashing") 48 out of 18,171 James/Regulus fics. 0.26% (all numbers relevant to UTC 18:49 10.11.2024, taken from ao3) (that is approximately 1 in 400 fics)

Or the other way aroung out of all "Lily Evans Potter bashing" - which will show you more then 551 fics - 39 are tagged James/Regulus. Whole 7.07% of ALL "lily bashing"-tagged fics. wow. And Jegulus is the first pair tag in only 26 of them. (4.72%)

I won't sit here and pretend that all fics are tagged properly, there must be other fics that just don't say it. However, there are 300 jegulus fics tagged "NO Lily Evans Potter Bashing" if you want something to compare it to.

Additionally, don't get me started on Choices! The fic where Lily gets her own story, she doesn't fall for a jerk-James, she doesn't try to seduce him when he's in a relationship (and the only one who sees her as a competition is Regulus), she is allowed to react to James cheating (and it is aknowledged that James is in the wrong for that [wrong Choices, you could say]) and she is overall an interesting and not a cartoonish one-dimentional character.

I am not saying we shouldn't be criticising misogyny in media. I am saying that pointing at Jegulus and calling it the cause is 1: not the right audience, and 2: painfully unhelpful. You're spreading hate in the fandom, not fighting it.

I rest my case.

[rubra-wav]

Hii! Can I get lil sceanarios/oneshots of Vox, Husk, and Lucifer (if you write for him) where they are ranting about something thats bothering them to their crush, so they kiss him to shut them up?

I just love the thought of them being completely caught off guard and all blushy 😚😚

Thanks!

Vox, Husk and Lucifer x crush!reader shutting them up with a kiss

Cw: SFW, gn!reader, fluff

Vox

- After another public spat with Alastor (albeit, a lot less explosive then last time) Vox sits next to you bitching his head off about it, occasionally glitching and sparking as he emphasises words.

- "I can't believe that old asshole has the audacity to come after my design choices. Mine. I mean, can you believe that! They look great- right (name)?" He doesn't wait for you to respond to his question, just cuts you off as you nod and open your mouth to speak going on with his rant.

- "Exactly! My shit is perfect. It's top of the line. I wish he'd just fuck off to whatever crevice he crawled out of!"

- You inwardly sigh watching him carry on. As much as you loved to just stare at him as he animatedly talked loudly both with his voice and also his hands, it was beginning to get somewhat annoying listening to him repeat the same things over and over again while occasionally seeking reassurance from you.

- You smile slightly, looking at his lips moving as he spoke.

- You'd seen him drink and eat stuff, but how exactly did they work? If you kissed him, would it just be screen? Would he be able to feel it?

- He continued to ramble on, not noticing you had peaced out mentally about 3 minutes ago.

- Not noticing you moving your face closer to him from the corner of his eye.

- "When I get my hands on him, I'm going to beat the shit out of him! Right (name), I'd totally win, wouldn't I-" he turns to you as he asks, and suddenly he's feeling warm lips pressed against his screen over where his mouth is displayed.

- A loud binging sound is heard as Vox momentarily errors at the sudden gesture.

- You pull your lips off of him, and look at him with raised brows. "Could you feel that? All I felt was warm glass." You asked as you watched his monitor glitch and then switch back to his usual face dumbly blinking, blue flush covering his cheeks.

- As Vox gained his bearings, he glared at you. "H-hey!" He cringed at his stutter before clearing his throat. "You can't just do that out of nowhere, Doll! The fuck?"

- Vox would be pissed off and flustered you'd tried to quiet him by kissing him out of nowhere. Who the hell do you think you are essentially telling him to shut up??

- The smaller voice being squashed was yelling about how it liked the feeling of your lips on him and wanted more, though.

Husk

- The Bartender rarely got to be the one to rant about his issues, so when you showed up as someone he trusted and loved, he took the chance to complain to his heart's content.

- "And that idiotic daddy issue having child has been forcing me to play along with her delusions. I can't just say fuck off as usual because Alastor is ordering me to partake in it for his own sick fucking enjoyment!" Husk growled before taking a long sip of his drink.

- "The sooner I can get out of that shithole, the better. I can't wait for Alastor to get bored of it, I am going crazy having to participate in 'trust exercises' and 'bonding activities'" Husk emphasised each example with mock sweetness, clearly disgusted by it.

- You snorted. "What, has she been making you make arts and crafts or something?" You joked, but then grew silent when he sourly nodded.

- "Yes. She made us do hand painting like some fucking kindergarten class. There's still yellow paint stuck in my fur from where Niffty rolled in it and jumped onto me!" He turned around to show you his back, and sure enough, yellow paint clung to his fur.

- Husk went on complaining about 3 in 1 and how it wouldn't do shit for it, and that's when an impulse took over you suddenly as you watched his fuzzy cheeks move.

- Husk abruptly stopped as you leaned forward to kiss his cheek, instead catching his mouth by accident as he unconsciously turned towards you.

- It only lasts a second as you realise your error, apologising profusely. "Sorry! I meant to get your cheek!"

- Husk stutters in surprise, unable to get out any words for a long while, before coughing and turning away, unable to meet your eyes.

- He brings a hand to touch his lips, flushing darkly under his fur at the memory of your lips on his, the scent of the sweet cocktail he'd made you on your breath as it happened had him feeling dizzy.

- Christ.

- He interrupts you from where you were apologising profusely, kissing you again.

- Liquid courage tells him not to let this opportunity pass, so he doesn't.

Lucifer

- He was very down on himself about a rather failed day out with his daughter.

- The impression that he was happy and okay had fallen to bits the second he discussed how he'd tried to take Charlie to Loo Loo World only for paparazzi to storm him and lead to a series of unfortunate events ending with Charlie covered in an overly sweet drink and popcorn and having to leave.

- "And then she looked so awkward and uncomfortable when she said goodbye! My daughter hates me!" He exclaimed, burying his face in his hands.

- You shook your head, patting his shoulder and trying to tell him that wasn't true.

- "I'm the world's worst father. I caused all of hell to exist, and for someone like you to get condemned to this horrible place, and after all these mistakes, I still can't do anything right." He looked up at you, dejected, tears in his eyes.

- Your heart hurts seeing it. You just want him to stop talking about himself in such a way.

- So you do the only thing you can properly think of on the spot.

- "I'm just a failur-hff!" he hums loudly in surprise as his face is gripped, and suddenly your lips are on his.

- As he comprehends what's happening, tears well up in his eyes alongside his now pounding heart as years of him not being touched like this weigh on him all at once. It felt wonderful to be held and kissed by someone - let alone you.

- You pull away after a short time, hands gently brushing across his now even more overly warm cheeks.

- "Don't say that about yourself. You aren't a failure, Luci." You softly say. "Tell Charlie you're sorry and arrange a more private activity with her. She's your daughter, she will forgive you." Lucifer slowly nods against your hands.

- He doesn't say anything, mouth slightly parted as he looks at you with wide, lovesick eyes as his mind races alongside his heart. You're so warm.

- His hands come to rest atop your's, keeping them against his cheeks as his eyes flutter shut, basking in your touch.

- "Please just let us stay like this for a little longer." He breathily whispers. His face crumples as you nod and invite him to come closer into your arms.

- The king of hell slumps against you, craving but still hesitant to further request your touch.

Masterlist

[inoreuct]

zosan with abba's super trouper.

is this essentially a pop star au? yes. bear with me anyway.

so the entire vinsmoke family are pop stars and they're perfect in the public eye but actually toxic as HELL, and sanji's sick and tired of it— so he breaks away from them and joins another agency, and zoro's assigned as his bodyguard.

they fight SO MUCH at first. i'm talking screaming and yelling and throwing things across the room (mostly sanji) and being stubborn and straight-up refusing to talk after a certain point (also mostly sanji) and then apologising with food and gifts and not words (mostly, well, both of them). they're like flint and steel; putting them together is just asking for trouble, but the years pass, and somehow through the endless bickering they end up best friends. who would've thought? their sharp edges have softened just enough and they're both too old and too tired and too busy to have cold wars anymore. they know more about each other than perhaps anyone else, and they care.

(they're also both in love and refuse to admit it. idiots.)

and then sanji goes on tour, and zoro has to leave for a training refresher course thing, and sanji's MISERABLE. luffy's with him as a bodyguard instead and it's fine, he's great, sanji loves him— just not the way he loves zoro. he feels fucking homesick in a way he never has because he's never really had a proper home and he knows, he knows it's because zoro isn't here with him. sanji turns around to tell him something and is met with empty air. he keeps trying to order double portions of food and booze before he catches himself and maybe he's being dramatic, but it feels like he's missing a fucking limb.

nami, his manager, has to yell at him to stop moping because all he's doing is eating chocolate and binging french soap operas in his hotel room and huddling up in the big leather jacket that zoro left behind. he just wants to get back to his tiny apartment and curl up on his shitty couch to eat pizza and watch Mean Girls for the hundredth time as zoro complains and gets invested in the drama all over again anyway.

he's nearly dead on his feet as finishes yet another exhausting show, trying to take comfort in the fact that it's his second last; his shoes are kicked off to the corner, his makeup barely removed, and just when he's about to turn in for the night his phone rings and when he sees the caller ID he SCRAMBLES to pick up.

"hey," zoro says, low and rumbly and so achingly familiar that sanji doesn't know whether to laugh or cry.

"you have no idea how good it is to hear your voice," he breathes, and he means it. he means it more than he even knew he did and it hits him all at once as soon as the words leave his mouth. he misses his best friend, no matter everything else that zoro is to him.

zoro's chuckle is a balm to his soul. "i'm coming to see you tomorrow."

sanji sits bolt upright from where he'd been laid back against the pillows, eyes going wide. "are you serious?" he can't help the hope and excitement that unspools in his gut, the warm rush in his blood as zoro laughs.

"yeah. i'm done with the course. speedran the fucking thing and scored so well they had no choice but to let me go. couldn't miss the last chance i had to see you on tour, could i?" sanji can hear his grin through the phone. "i'm flying in tomorrow morning."

"i'll come pick you up from the airport."

"like hell you will," zoro retorts immediately. "you have a press conference at ten."

shit, he'd forgotten about that. "how'd you know, huh?" sanji counters, faux-petty and reclining back against his plush bedding. god, if there was one good thing about being on tour, it was the fancy hotels.

"been talking to nami," comes the reply, amused and teasing, and sanji groans. "what's this i hear about you acting like a widowed husband?"

"you fucking wish, you moron," he snaps, curling up on his side and hugging a pillow to his chest. the bed is awfully big and awfully cold.

zoro sighs, and there's the sound of something zipping up briskly. "missed you too, curls. look, listen— i gotta get to the airport. see you tomorrow night?"

"...yeah," sanji says, because there's so much he wants to tell zoro and no idea how. he doesn't know where he'd start. he doesn't even know what he wants to say. "yeah, i'll see you. you'll be in the crowd, right?"

"mhm," zoro confirms, accompanied by what sounds like the chirp of an electronic lock. "you just sit tight, curly. i'm coming home."

they exchange a few more words before the line cuts off, but sanji's mind is stuck on three specific words and the possible space for three more after. i'm coming home. but he isn't home right now; he's in a foreign country, in a bed that isn't his, and zoro's flying to him. this isn't home to either of them. unless... and that silence afterwards, like zoro had wanted to say something that would have fit right in. something that would have been a natural end to that string of syllables.

sanji takes a deep breath and does his best to push all thoughts of i love you, spoken or not, to the back of his mind.

still, he can't help but let it all boost him up like a buoy bobbing merrily on the sea. one call from zoro, one short conversation, and he's fucking effervescent; he wakes up smiling and breezes through the press conference with effortless charm. he's bouncing on the toes of his heeled boots even before he steps onto the stage, thrilled by the thought of zoro being in the audience. thousands of eyes on him, thousands of people screaming his name, and he only cares about one. he takes a deep breath as the lights change and the platform he's on begins to rise, fingers tightening around his mic. it's his last night here. he's doing it all for zoro.

it turns out to be the best performance of his life, if he does say so himself. he powers through the entire two hours with ease and hits every note perfectly. he enjoys himself for the first time in a long time, soaks up the glitter and glamour and blinding lights, lets the atmosphere wrap him up and tousle his hair, and he wonders just how it's possible that one person's presence could change so much.

(he doesn't need to wonder. he already knows.)

when he says his final goodbyes for the night he's breathless, heart pounding, anticipatory. the hands patting at his back in congratulation backstage are superficial compared to who he knows is here, and he spares nami a few seconds for a rare squeeze, pausing for a few more when she whispers i'm proud of you in his ear.

and then sanji sees him, and nothing, nothing else fucking matters.

he sprints forward and they crash together and something slams into place inside of him. zoro sweeps him off his feet, squeezing him tight enough that he laughs, bright and merry and real as they spin around and around and he's so dizzy when he's set back down, light-headed and his heart full. he doesn't care where he is, he's home.

zoro takes his weight as easily as anything, tucking sanji to his chest. "god, fuck, you were amazing up there," he says breathlessly, the words pressed into sanji's bejewelled hair. "you were incredible."

the words rumble through his chest and sanji clings tighter, holding zoro desperately around the waist and taking in deep lungfuls of laundry detergent and the fancy pine-and-sandalwood body wash he'd given zoro for christmas. "you're here."

"'course i am," zoro replies, matter-of-fact. "said i'd be here, so i'm here."

his earrings press against sanji's cheek. "can we go get pizza?" he asks meekly.

zoro's answering laugh pours into the horrible aching pit that's been gnawing away at him, fills it up with liquid sunlight as he answers, "we can do whatever the hell you want."

they get pizza. sanji lets zoro pull him around town swearing at the Google Maps on his phone before he finally takes pity and steers them towards the little pizzeria he'd found when he'd snuck out with luffy on their first night here. the tongue-lashing from nami had been worth it, but even so the experience back then had been dull. muted, at best.

now it's like he's seeing the whole world through a whole different lens; the fluorescent sign in the window beams charmingly as the bell above the door chimes, and sanji doesn't even care about the raised eyebrow zoro gives him when he wiggles into the booth seat with undisguised glee. between them they put away a large four-cheese pizza and a frankly massive slice of apple pie à la mode, and sanji's feeling pleasantly stuffed as he finishes up his vanilla milkshake and successfully fends zoro off from stealing sips when he isn't looking. he has plenty of experience with that, after all.

the walk back is filled with comfortable silence. sanji doesn't need anything else— zoro here with him is more than he could ask for. scary dog privilege aside, the man next to him is sanji's best friend, and he loves zoro more than he can, or will, ever say.

zoro drops him off at his room and hugs him goodnight. sanji strips down, blasts the shower as hot as it can go, and scrubs the gel out of his hair along with any of the remaining dregs of emptiness he resolutely tells himself are not there right down the drain.

it can't stop him from thinking, though. of zoro. of compression shirts and cargo pants and worn black boots. of the nights zoro had taught him self-defense and the time sanji nearly broken his jaw with a roundhouse kick neither of them had known he was capable of; the other had grinned up with him with blood all over his teeth, proud and raring to go, barking again! and sanji had glowed. his mind swims with it all even as he towels off and slips into his silk pyjamas— memories of late-night talks with wine and beer, sometimes tea, quips all around, beds shared back-to-back under unspoken agreements when neither of them wanted to sleep alone.

three knocks sound on his door.

sanji hates the way he rushes to the peephole and yanks it open as soon as he confirms who it is. zoro stands there, one hand on the back of his neck, looking bored yet unsettled in his baggy tee with his damp hair sticking up everywhere. "jetlag?" sanji asks, raising an eyebrow as zoro grunts.

"you could say that."

he steps aside in a silent invitation, and zoro looks around as he goes in. sanji topples onto the bed with a sigh of relief and crawls under the blankets, patting the space beside him as he switches on the television. "mean girls?"

"god, i fucking hate you," zoro groans, but he settles in anyways, and sanji grins triumphantly.

it's still not his apartment or his shitty couch— but zoro's here, so it's the next best thing.

they make it through the movie without incident. zoro parrots the dialogue and cheers when regina gets hit by the bus like he does without fail every time. sanji knees him in the thigh for it with a scowl like he always does and it starts a fierce kicking battle under the sheets that results in zoro dangling half off the mattress and sanji laughing so hard he can't breathe.

when they've mostly calmed down, sanji sighs out one final chuckle and sinks back into the pillows. "think you can fall asleep now?" he murmurs, turning to look at where zoro has his head propped in one hand.

"maybe," the other allows, and sanji swallows before he smiles.

"goodnight, marimo."

"goodnight."

the flick of the light switch feels like finality. in regards to what, sanji doesn't know, but now that they're in the darkness and zoro begins to get comfortable behind him he cannot deny that he wants.

he wants those arms around him. wants to sleep even better than he does when they're back to back, wants to fit within the circle of zoro's embrace like he belongs there. wants to belong there. wants zoro as his best friend and everything more. it manifests as a tight ache in the centre of his chest, a knot around his heart that he knows he cannot untangle by himself. sanji curls up into a ball and hugs a pillow to his chest, biting his lip— because zoro is right next to him instead of thousands of miles away, and he's still untouchable all the same.

he's on the cusp of restless sleep when he feels zoro shift, and he prays that the hitch in his breath is unnoticeable. he forces the rise and fall of his chest to stay even as the blankets are smoothed securely around his shoulders, a callused palm brushing his hair away from his face; a soft kiss is pressed to his forehead, a hand cupping his face tenderly and trailing away with the brush of a thumb over his cheekbone. "sweet dreams, curls," zoro whispers, before light cracks in from the hallway as his room door opens and shuts.

the electronic lock beeps, and sanji's eyes fly open. the white ceiling swims as he stares at it, unseeing, and the sheets on the right side of the bed are still warm. there's an indent where zoro's body was and sanji gasps as he drags himself into it, huddling down and pulling the covers over his head until all he can smell is zoro.

his heart stutters, mind racing, fingers tightening in the plush duvet. he's confused, so confused. hopeful. a little mad, if he's being honest, and his next breath trembles out of his lungs. mostly still confused, though, because what the fuck did that mean?

he'll find out, he swears. he will. he'll storm his way to zoro's room and break the damn door down if he has to. but for now, if he hides for a little while until he stops feeling like he's about to cry—

well, that's a secret for his hotel room to keep.

[jacevelaryonswife]

In a Restaurant, in West End Town

There were a lot of questions swirling around in your head when your eyes opened, however, the main one — which all intertwined — was: what the hell happened last night?

∴pairing: (modern) Aegon, Aemond, Jacaerys and Lucerys x Fem!Reader

∴warnings and a note: irresponsibility on the part of our dear characters, sorry. By the way, thanks for the 1k!

A searing heat suffocated your body to the point of making your rest impossible. Few times in your life have you had a headache as bad as that one, so bad that it made you want to get hit and pass out — or just be able to go back to sleep again — but apparently there was no favorable condition for that to happen. Soon, your mind began to bombard your peace with questions, where were you anyway? Why was it so hot? Why were there two hands stretched out behind your back in opposite directions?

And most importantly, why were you the stuffing in Aegon and Jace's sandwich?

“What the fuck…”

Dropping to your knees without too much care, your eyes darted around the cheap motel room, taking in Aemond in the next bed sleeping face down in all his splendor. And that's where your memory betrayed you, because you didn't remember how you got there. In fact, you didn't remember shit, just flashes of last night.

"It's so good to be with you guys again," you said, cuddled sideways with Jace.

“Tonight has to be legendary!” Aegon exclaimed.

Sudden change of scenery to a car interior, and given that Aegon was driving the vehicle you assumed it was the outrageously expensive and tacky golden Ferrari called the Sunfyre.

“Why would we have a drinking contest at 7 P.M?” Jace asked with a frown.

“Because it's the only thing he can win,” Aemond replied prickly, in an incredibly calm tone.

“I don't miss so much how pretentious you’re, although that's not wrong,” you said.

“Fuck you all old bitches,” he complained.

"Anyway, let's think of something else to amuse ourselves with," suggested Jace.

“I don't need a lot of things when I'm with you guys,” you said, eliciting emotional sounds from the older Tagaryen and Velaryon, while Aemond let a shy smile escape.

Another change of scenery, this time in the penthouse of the luxury apartment they rented for the weekend in Long Beach. Although you didn't want to cost your friends so much, you can't say you didn't like the refined choice far from your reality, like promotional photos from a magazine.

“I could get used to this view,” your voice was sly as you confided to Aemond, admiring the night beach beside him.

“Me too,” he said.

“Wasn't that too expensive?” You asked worriedly, making him almost roll his eyes in amusement.

"A little, but that's beside the point."

"Cause the mama's boy always gets everything," quipped Aegon.

"What are you talking about? You ’re such a mama ’s boy too,” Jace objected when he joined you.

"The only-" Before Aemond could deliver lethal strokes of his sharp tongue against one of his kinsmen, you interjected with the only truth in existence about the three incredibly rich boys:

"Please, all of you’remama's boys, don't pretend to be condescending."

Another flash followed to a blurred backdrop, with blond figures in front of you and dark, curly locks below your hands. What caused such a blurred memory? Another flash of bright neon lights in red, yellow, and green, followed by more flashing lights and a blast of loud music. Everything went dark after that, no other memories. It wasn't possible... could it be...

It would be idiotic to agree to a contest aimed at heavy drinking when you used to drink a lot yourself. What the fuck did you three agree to any of Aegon's ideas? It was too much to digest, and it wasn't even halfway through, and then when your eyes fell on the watch Jacaerys wore and saw the alarming time, you began to shake both Targaryen and Velaryon from behind, calm at first and impatiently after seeing that neither of them answered.

"What it was?" The older one grumbled, followed by a sulky-pouting Jace glaring at you.

"It's late, we have to get out of here."

“The night it's a child, baby,” he replied sleepily, deep voice.

“It’s 4:15 P.M!” you exclaimed.

“WHAT? What the fuck happened?” asked Jace — one of the almost rare instances he used a curse word.

"I don't know, I don't remember anything."

"Me neither."

Turning to the opposite side, the blonde ignored the active dialogue and made little effort to open his eyes, going back to sleep. Getting out of bed, you walked over to Aemond and touched him carefully, being greeted by a grumpy “mm”.

“Why are you always so handsome when you sleep?” Your questioning rang out in an indignant tone, causing a stunned sound from him. “Wake up, Rapunzel, it's almost 4 o'clock."

"Morning?" He asked in a groggy voice, still on his stomach.

"No."

“What the fuck…”

“It has become a common question, apparently.”

"What do you mean?"

“Do you remember what happened?”

"… not a lot."

"Where are we?"

“…”

Your eyes rolled. Since none of the three stooges could collaborate in any way, and to escape the unbearable heat, you decided to leave the room and look for information, being lucky to find a chambermaid as soon as she pointed in the hallway, you quickly stopped her with the best politeness you possessed .

“Excuse me, good afternoon, can you tell me where we are? Regarding the neighborhood.”

Her features weren't the most pleasant, relying on unimpressed eyes, a pinched nose and gaping boredom as she glared at you.

“San Clemente.”

Your first reaction was surprise, followed by an almost snort at her less than sympathetic response.

“San Clemente?” There was a very present disbelief in your tone, almost unpleasant to hear.

“As you heard. Excuse me."

She didn't have time for another question, after all, how would she know how you got to San Clemente? But the main thing was: WHY WERE YOU IN SAN CLEMENTE? It’s like an hour from Long Beach. What the fuck is happening? Walking down the hall, you went to reception to look up information — gods, you reeked — and found a stiff, middle-aged man looking over some numbers in an old notebook. Your suspicions that the establishment wasn't luxurious were confirmed and you hated how you missed the rare privilege.

“Excuse me, good afternoon, I… yeah… I think I checked in yesterday with some friends-

“At dawn.”

“Oh…” you blurted out, “so… how much was the bill? Yeah… do you know if we arrived by uber or by car?”

“Uber. But if you killed someone along the way and the police came here, then it was a car,” he said seriously, yet calmly. A warning.

"What?"

“Your stupid blond friend's Ferrari is back there, we didn't leave it out front so nobody could steal it. He made that clear when he offered an extra amount.” Okay, that was a lot. “But that must be little for you rich people.”

“I'm not rich,” was all you said as you tried to reason, “and what other room are you talking about?”

“The one next to yours.”

"Left or right?"

"Left."

Seven hells.

“Do you know… how many were we last night?

"Five."

"… ok."

Your head was pounding too hard from the aggressive hangover to stay there, thanking him out of habit as he nearly ran back down the hall to get to the three stooges, even though your curiosity was nearly making you knock on the next door. Unlike when he had left, they were all visibly awake, with Aemond trying to connect to his cell phone's Wi-Fi or Internet package.

"Where did you go?"

“Searching for information, apparently we are in San Clemente.”

“What?” An exasperated chorus rang through the room.

“And apparently we rented the room next door too,” you added.

"For who?" Aemond asked

“I was hoping one of you could say.”

“Why didn't you knock on the door?” Aegon inquired this time.

“I don't know, maybe because I didn't want to wake up Norman Bates or whoever was next to me,” you justified.

"Don't be dramatic, it's not that bad," he countered, to be contradicted by a grumpier-than-usual Aemond:

"You've stayed in worse places, it's not big news."

"I can't believe you rubbed coke in my nose!" Jace complained to the older Targaryen, shifting focus while still on topic.

“What? I didn’t do that!" The blonde exclaimed.

“Of course you did, I remember!”

“If I don't remember, I didn't do it.”

“It wouldn't surprise me if it were true,” commented Aemond.

“Could you stop? Just for a fucking moment?” Aegon asked with a wrinkled nose.

“Funny is-“

“Oh hells would someone go with me in the next room to know who came with us? I just want out of here,” you said angry.

“Oh common it’s not like Hannibal Lecter is in the fucking room.” Aegon rolled his eyes, throwing himself onto the bed.

“Okay, fuck you.”

Storming out of the room, you mirrored the angry slamming of your door in the next room, not pausing until you heard a familiar voice sound from the other side. Okay, one more surprise for the day. You could promise yourself that you wouldn't put a drop of alcohol in your mouth again — not that it was difficult.

“Luke? What are you doing here?"

"It's a long story."

“Seven heavens,” you said before entering his room. “No idea why I drank so much last night.”

He frowned, confused, before answering:

"You didn't seem drunk yesterday, high maybe, most likely."

It was your turn to narrow your brows.

"What? I don’t use drugs."

“It seemed so. In fact, only Aegon and Aemond were reeking of alcohol when they got home.”

“Home? Did we go to your house?”

“Yeah, and you're lucky Mom and Daemon weren't home when you guys got there,” Luke said.

"I can't fucking believe we drove drunk or high or whatever, by Mother, we could have killed or killed someone!"

“Actually you took an uber.”

“And why is Sunfyre parked back there? Oh great I can't believe I called a car by a name..."

He was silent for a while, stiffening a bit before explaining: "Uh... well, Aegon asked to... take... take you to West Hollywood but it meant going to Long Beach and back, which I didn't do and I didn't-didn't want to. let you go without conscience.”

"Wait, so you drove an Aeg's car here?"

“Not only this far… and it's not like I had a choice, I tried to get you to stay but Aemond was sober enough to say he'd gouge out my eye if I touched him.”

It took considerable effort to ignore the headache and redo last night's script, all with a tired body and a broken memory. So… basically you four went from Long Beach to Rhaenyra and Daemon Targaryen's house and then… no, there's still a long way to go.

“When you said not only this far, what did you mean? Where are we going and why are we stopping here?”

“Each of you wanted to go somewhere, so-“

Firm knocks outside followed by a call of your name ended up interrupting Lucerys from his explanation, it was Jace's voice, you recognized, moving to let you in. Apparently he had the same reaction he did to seeing his little brother with dark circles under his eyes (just like you all did).

“Luke? What are you doing here?"

“He's telling me exactly that,” you replied. "By the way, Aegon's car is in the parking lot."

“What?? He's going to freak out!”

"I know. What are they talking about in the bedroom?”

"Aegon saw a taco bell nearby, we were thinking of getting something to eat before heading back." Jace answered.

“Apparently it's the only good decision we've made in the last few hours,” you grumbled. “We can go, but we still need to know what happened last night. Go call that fuckers.”

—————

So tell me, what happened last night?

This is a different approach than what I usually do, but I didn't want this moment (1K followers) to go unnoticed. As I told a mutual, I've had this account for a long time, but I never wrote to tumblr, it was only after about four years without writing frequently that I decided to be active here. Anyway, thank you for all the affection I've received from you, from the moots to the anons and followers, I really appreciate it all! Anyway, thank you my dears 💙💙

@madame-fear @howyouloveyourdragon

[funnylittlelad]

Rules Made To Be Broken - Steve Harrington x gn! reader

Masterlist - AO3

<< Rule Two | Epilogue >>

summary: As you and Steve grow closer, things seem to be going perfectly. That is until your police chief father steps in. The more you lie the deeper a hole you dig, but what else can you do? No matter what your dad says, you're not staying away from Steve Harrington.

wordcount: 6k

notes/tags: Hopper!reader, secret dating, sneaking around, fluff, friends to lovers, events of season three do not take place (canon divergent), Hopper is a bit of an (redeemable) overprotective helicopter parent, mentions of/talks about: abusive parents, Steve's father is his own warning, Good Brother Jonathan (tm), tumultuous relationships, divorce, death, and family trauma.

Rule Three: No Having Steve Over If Your Dad Isn't Home

Joyce corners Hopper when he’s brushing his teeth before bed. She shuts them both in the bathroom and turns to him with a stern expression. He raises his eyebrows at her in question, a toothbrush hanging from his mouth. She crosses her arms. He turns, spits out what toothpaste is left in his mouth, and rinses. As he turns back to her, he wipes the corners of his mouth with a rag.

“Is something wrong?” He asks.

“Jim, I know you're not stupid so why are you being so hard on Steve?” She questions.

“Someone ought’a be,” he answers.

“You don't think John is?” She scoffs.

“What's this about, huh?”

Joyce shakes her head a little.

“You have to have noticed they like each other. There's something there and Steve is a good guy-”

“He’s a Harrington.”

“Jesus Christ, Jim, that doesn't matter! Steve has kept both your children safe from Upside Down monster bullshit! You’ve already been complaining that something is different with your relationship. If you keep this up, you won't have a relationship at all,” Joyce hisses.

Hopper crosses his arms. He breathes evenly as he and Joyce stare each other down. It doesn't matter how long he stands here, he knows she'll win.

“He reminds me of me,” he admits through grit teeth.

“What?” Joyce’s brows furrow.

“Steve- he…,” Hopper sighs and looks away, “He reminds me of myself at that age. It's when I met Diane. Just… My kids deserve better than that- they deserve better than me.”

“Any of those kids would be lucky to end up with someone like you. Steve is a good one. We’re lucky it’s him and not one of those other idiots out there,” Joyce says softly.

Hopper runs a hand down his face.

“So, what? What are you saying? What do you want me to do?” He questions.

“Let go a little. Let them see each other.”

“You mean let them start seeing each other.”

Joyce’s mouth presses into a thin line. She doesn't want to give up her mistake, but she doesn't want to lie. That alone says enough. Still, Hopper gives her another chance.

“Joyce, you meant to say you want me to let them start to see each other, right? Not continue to see each other,” he tries again evenly.

She takes a measured breath. Her big eyes flash down and then back up at him. They're brimming with an apology.

“I’m sorry, Jim. This is what I mean-”

“How long?”

“I don't know.”

“How long have you known?”

“I just found out. Neither of them wants to be sneaking around, but they don't think you've given them another choice,” she tries to explain to him.

“Thank you, Joyce,” he states and turns back to the sink.

His large hands grip the edge as he glares at the faucet. Joyce watches him for a moment, teetering between annoyed and sympathetic. She loves Hopper but, Christ, is he stubborn. 

“Maybe instead of seeing Steve and thinking of him being a Harrington, you should think about Callahan. Steve’s related to him too, remember? Will and Jonathan are related to Lonnie, but you don't think they'd ever be like him,” she points out, “It’s okay that you're scared, but you can't let it control you.”

“ Thank you, Joyce ,” he says again with more emphasis. 

With a sigh, she leaves unsure if she just made things better or worse. 

The next time you see your dad is strange. He lumbers around you as you do the dishes, grunting in acknowledgment, with a storm cloud over his head. It's not totally unusual so you don't think much of it. You figure he's just in a mood. So, you let it be while he prepares his lunch of a sandwich. Then you accidentally drop and break a plate in the sink. That seems to light whatever short fuse your dad has today.

“We can't get a new place to live and buy a whole new set of plates,” he drawls bitterly.

You turn annoyed furrowed brows on him.

“It was one plate. I think we’ll financially recover,” you quip.

“Oh, I’m sorry, have you balanced the checkbook recently?” He all but snaps.

You blink at the running water. Aggravation and concern are beginning to swirl together. Why does it feel like he's picking a fight?

“Okay, I’ll buy the plates. There, happy?” You bite.

“ Peachy .”

“Good.”

“Good.”

A tense silence blankets the kitchen. Ceramic bits of plate clink against the metal of the sink as you collect them. Your dad angrily spreads mustard on a piece of bread. 

“You’re watching Will and El tonight,” he informs you.

“Excuse me? Since when?” You let out a single sarcastic laugh and turn on him.

“What? Do you have plans?” He shoots back pointedly, eyes sharp and analyzing.

Your heart catches in your throat. You do have plans. Plans with Steve you had yet to lie to him about. It’s okay, those plans can change. You aren't giving up coveted Steve time, not when it's feeling so hard to come by. Steve went full-time last week. You haven't seen him outside of the mall in days. Both of you have been too tired while adjusting to your new schedules.

“No,” you lie, “Doesn't mean I wouldn't like the option.”

His gaze hardens. There's a tug at your stomach, a warning signal that something is awry. He’s not just in a mood, he’s fucking pissed. You just don't know why. 

“Well, now your plans are watching Will and El,” he says cooly, going back to his half-assembled sandwich. 

“They don't need me to watch them,” you echo what must be a million you’s from the past. 

“I say they do.”

“Whatever, this is fucking stupid,” you mutter to yourself as you toss the plate bits in the trash.

“That’s it, you’re grounded,” he snaps and turns on you.

You gape at him with a scoff.

“ What? For what?” You demand.

“Talking back.”

“Talking ba- I’m fucking nineteen, dad, get a grip!” You shout. 

“Indefinitely,” he tacks onto your sentence.

“God, I can't wait to move out and get away from your insane ass!” You boil over furiously. 

You stomp away before you can see the crumpled look on his face. You don't want to see it. The words just slipped out. They weren't even true, but not much is from your mouth these days. At least when it comes to your dad. Your heart seizes as you trek down the hallway to your room.

 It shatters when the door slams shut. There was a time your dad and you were close. You had weekly traditions and inside jokes to fill up the empty parts of your lives. Then you grew up. Then all the Upside Down shit started happening. With each gate, the rift between you widened. You started working and hanging out with Robin more. He started working more, carefully monitoring for the next sign of foul play. El distracted both of you from whatever uncomfortable distance sat between you. For a while.

Steve had never been a stranger. After he saved your life, the two of you became something like old friends. The kind that had once been close in school, but since grown apart. You acknowledge each other’s existence with a nod and move on. After you saved his life, you began to talk more. Nothing crazy, just a hello or a how are you if you ran into each other. Until you found him outside the convenience store one night. You had walked over to grab snacks for you and El. Steve sat on the trunk of his car, occasionally sipping a coke. 

“Hey, stranger,” you greet with a small smile. 

He seems a little startled but relaxes when he registers it's you. He returns your smile.

“Hey, what are you doing out here?” 

“I could ask you the same,” you chuckle.

“Me? Oh, well, isn't it obvious,” he holds his arms out at the no one around you, “I’m hanging out with my tons of friends.”

You can feel the knit grow in your brow.

“Are you okay?” You cut right to the chase.

“Yeah,” he sighs, drops his arms, and nods, “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Forgive me if I don't believe you,” you deadpan.

“I’m fine, really. I’m just… reflecting,” he shrugs. 

“On what?” You ask and gesture to the spot beside him.

He nods and scooches over to give you enough room. You lift yourself up onto the trunk next to him. He sips his coke. You wait patiently.

“I think my only friend right now is a child,” he wrinkles his nose at the thought.

“You finally gave up on Carol and Tommy H.?” You tease. 

“Yeah, little while ago.”

“Who’s the child?”

“Henderson.”

You perk up at the mention of the curly-headed goofball.

“Oh, Dustin’s a good one to have around. He’ll talk to you like you're stupid, though. Sadly, most of the time he does he’s right , but still,” you tell him. 

Steve hums in agreement. He stares down at his hands for a moment. Then his eyes are on you once more. The multicolor fluorescents in the window advertising different beers streak color across his eyes. It makes them look like they're made of rainbows. Little rainbows only you can see.

“What about you? Friends? Enemies? Lovers ?” He smirks and nudges you at the last one.

You roll your eyes and give him a small shove. He laughs in response. 

“I’m good friends with Robin Buckley. She’s in the marching band at school so you probably don't know her,” you answer.

He shakes his head to confirm he doesn't know her.

“Is that it?” he quirks his eyebrows at you.

“The same children as you, I guess,” you laugh, “Other than that… yeah, pretty much. You know my dad.”

Steve nods contemplatively.

“There's me too. We’re friends. We kinda have to be after everything,” he reasons.

You gasp dramatically.

“Does this mean I’m friends with the Steve Harrington ?” You ask with a hand over your chest.

Steve laughs a beautiful full bodied laugh. It brings a smile to your face. At least you were able to make his night a little brighter.

“It sure does,” he says.

“Well, since we’re friends and all,” you slide down off the trunk and turn to face him, “If you ever find yourself at the mall, feel free to pop into the arcade and say hi.”

He seems to deflate a little bit. It's almost as if he's disappointed when he realizes you're leaving. He nods with a small smile.

“Will do,” he promises.

You take another moment to really examine him. He looks so small half curled in on himself, clutching an open bottle of coke, and ignoring the whip of his windbreaker.

“Are you really okay, Steve?” You ask softly. 

“I’m better now,” he nods.

You smile, accepting that answer.

“Alright, I should grab snacks and head back to El. Take care, Harrington.”

“Take care, Hopper.”

The following day Steve did go to the mall. While there he saw the hiring sign in the window at Scoops. Fast forward a week to you going to bother Robin on your break. There Steve was behind the counter in little blue sailor shorts. It was easy to slip and fall in the Harrington charm once you were subject to it on your break every day. Sometimes Robin had to fight to remind the two of you she was there. 

You wait for your dad to leave for his night shift. The moment the chief’s truck is out of sight, you’re on the phone.

“Who are you calling?” Will asks when he wanders into the kitchen for a drink.

“Steve. We were supposed to see each other tonight,” you explain a little shorter than you intend.

Will offers a sympathetic smile.

“We tried telling him we didn't need you to watch us,” he says.

“Thanks for trying,” you give a small smile in return.

“Harrington,” Steve answers the phone.

“You sound like such a douche when you answer the phone, y’know that?” You tease.

“I don't have to take this. I could hang up,” he scoffs, pretending to be affronted.

“No,” you whine, “Then you won't hear me inviting you over.”

“I thought your dad worked tonight?”

“He does, but now I’m stuck here thanks to him. You can be gone before he gets back,” you say.

“Okay, just give me like twenty minutes.”

“See you soon, handsome.”

“See you soon, baby.”

Your face floods red as you hang up. Will snorts. You shoot him a glare.

“What?” You question.

“Nothing,” he defends, “you guys are cute.”

“Shut up,” you grumble, a little embarrassed as you walk by.

You plop onto the couch next to El. She instinctively leans into you. From the moment you met, El just kind of latched onto you. She would be behind your legs, at your side, and telling you first when something was wrong. You don't know what you did to earn her trust like that, but you value it.

“Stevie’s coming over,” you tell her.

“Dad doesn't know?” she checks.

“No, he doesn't and we have to keep it that way,” you answer.

She nods dutifully. You know you can trust her. She’s had her own arguments with your dad over his protectiveness. Granted, arguments with El tend to see a lot more things flying off the walls.

“You have been fighting more,” she comments after a moment.

“Yeah,” you sigh, “I guess we have.”

“Is it about Steve?”

“No, but dad keeps trying to make it about him. Dad doesn't… He doesn't know how to let go of things. Including us,” you explain sadly. 

“Are you going to leave?” She whispers.

You choke down your uncertainty.

“Well, I’m going to start saving for an apartment soon but that doesn't mean you’ll never see me again,” you whisper back.

“Dad will be very sad.”

“Y-yeah, I know.”

“So will I,” she admits.

“I know, me too.”

She hugs you tightly from the side. You do your best to do the same. Will flops down on the other side of El with a sigh. The three of you watch tv until there's a rhythmic knock on the door. You bounce up and go to the door, swinging it open with a smile. Steve stands there with a wide smile of his own, hair freshly primped just to see you. He swoops in for a kiss, earning a chorus of ew s from Will and El. The two of you chuckle as you pull apart. 

“Are you guys cool to be alone for a bit?” You check.

Will and El make disgusted faces and pretend to gag. You roll your eyes. You take Steve by the hand and lead him to your room. The door stays cracked, in case you get called for. Once you turn around you’re wrapped in Steve’s arm. He nuzzles into you as much as humanly possible.

“Steve,” you giggle into the feeling of his breath on your neck.

“I missed you,” he grumbles into your skin.

“I missed you too,” you sigh and melt into him.

You comb your fingers through his hair, half expecting him to purr like a cat. After a moment, you manage to lead the two of you over to your bed. There you fall back on your old comforter, still attached. Steve pulls away so you’re nose to nose. The smile that brightens your face is instinctive. The one that brightens his is the same. Smiling is natural around each other. 

“I want to take you out for real. A nice dinner, maybe dance a little,” he says, eyes sweeter than ever.

“You dance?” You smirk.

“I was in ballroom until I was ten,” he states with a goofy smile.

“That right? Well, now you have to show me the moves,” you decide and extract yourself from him.

He sits up after you. His eyes stay on you as you dig through your tapes. You pop one into the stereo. Something light and poppy drips from the speakers. With a bright grin, you hold your hand out to him. A light blush takes over his cheeks, but he ignores it. As requested, he gets up and takes your hand.

You descend into laughter as Steve glides and spins you around the room. His arm is snug against your lower back while his other hand clasps yours. He’s not bad for not having had a lesson in eight years. Together you and Steve walk on air, bolstered by the high of finally being together outside of blistering fluorescent lights and fake plants. 

The station is absolutely dead. There's one light that's been buzzing for weeks now. It irritates Hopper’s ear, gnawing at his eardrum and begging for restitution. He sighs heavily and drops his face into his hands. As he attempts to rub the tired boredom from his eyes the bell dings from the front.

“Flo, you got that?” He calls.

There's no answer, but another ding .

“Flo?” He calls again, growing short.

Another ding . He sighs and heaves himself out of his chair. Irritated grumbles fall from his mouth as he makes his way over to the front desk. Flo is gone for the night. He forgot it was that late already. Another sigh leaves his lungs. 

“How can I-” He pauses when he sees John Harrington smiling from the other side of the desk, “What can I do you for, John?”

“I’m here for Phil. Picking him up. Say, I’m glad I ran into you, though,” John Harrington grows a smarmy grin, “We should get the family together soon. Have dinner.”

Hopper’s mouth tightens and his nostrils flare a tad as his warning bells go off. His eyes narrow as Callahan rounds the corner from the locker room.

“Oh, hey-” Callahan begins to greet.

“Why would we do that?” Hopper questions John, ignoring Callahan completely.

Callahan stops a few feet away. He looks inquisitively between the two men.

“I figured celebration is in order since our kids are together! I gotta say, Jim, you raised a good kid. Gotta good head on-” 

“How would you know that from a two-minute conversation at a crowded bar?” Hopper snaps, already knowing where this is heading.

His face grows red with anger. John attempts a confused facade, but it's thin.

“We had dinner together a few weeks ago,” he says as if reminding Hopper.

“Oh, did you?” Hopper asks with a nod.

“Yes, I thought you kne-”

“Callahan,” Hopper booms as he starts back for his office, “You’re staying in tonight. I have to leave.”

Callahan, who had already been heading back to the locker room throws back a you got it, Chief. Hopper doesn't spare John Harrington another glance as he storms out to his truck. If he had, he would have seen a sly satisfied smirk. As you and Steve twirl around in a fog of affection, your dad races home with his lights on. 

Steve spins you out and then back into his arms. The moment you're back, his nose is brushing against yours.

“I love you,” he breathes between notes of music.

“I love you too,” you smile.

You're not sure who kisses first this time. Perhaps you meet in the middle. Either way, it’s a tender kiss that warms you from your head to your toes. Steve kisses you as if it’s the reason he was put on this planet. You let him guide you back to your bed. When the mattress hits your legs you tumble onto it. Steve lands over you, smiling full of adoration.

“My mom’s birthday is coming up. Every year there's this big dinner somewhere stuck up with a bunch of people who are even more stuck up,” he tells you.

“Sounds awful,” you chuckle.

“It is. Would you come with me? She really likes you and it might be half decent with you there,” he turns bashful.

Your smile falters.

“I want to, but my dad grounded me indefinitely,” you chew on your lip, “Maybe I can sneak out-”

“No, no it's okay,” Steve shakes his head, “You sneak out for me enough as it is.”

“I do it because I want to,” you remind him.

“I know, but I can tell all the lying has been messing with you. I don't want to make it any worse,” he says. 

“I appreciate that, Steve, really. It’s my decision, though. It isn't your fault I’m lying or sneaking around. It’s my dad’s,” you reply.

“That doesn't mean I don't feel bad.”

“That’s because you’re sweet,” you give him a quick peck on the tip of his nose, “I would love to go with you to this awful birthday dinner.”

Caramel apple eyes go molten as they bore into you. The softest of smiles graces his face and your line of sight. You can almost physically feel the love rolling off of him in waves. It throbs in your chest.

“Great because I’ve been dying for a way to show you off,” he sighs as if relieved.

You chuckle as fire crackles across your face.

“You’re such a dork,” you tease.

“Yeah, but I’m your dork,” he teases back.

Your mouth opens to respond, but the bedroom door slamming shut stops you. Both of you snap to look just in time to see the lock click on its own. Your attention immediately moves to the window. The world stops, then falls. Red and blue flash against the trees outside.

“Steve,” you whisper urgently, “ hide .”

“Wha-” he starts at normal volume.

You grab his face and point him toward the window.

“You need to hide,” you hiss. 

“Shit,” he breathes and scrambles off of you. 

You can hear your dad’s voice from the living room. He’s loud and angry. Hot spikes of fear shoot through you as you try to pull together your room. His footsteps are heavy as they come down the hall. When you turn around Steve is nowhere to be seen. You have no clue where he hid. Whether that's good or bad is to be seen. 

The banging on your door causes you to jump. You freeze for a moment until more banging jars you.

“Open the door now,” your dad orders from the other side, jangling the knob.

With a deep breath, you do. He stares at you furiously, mouth twisted and tight, and breathing heavy. He’s still in uniform, which makes you feel even worse.

“What are you doing ho-”

“Is he here?” He cuts you off.

“Who?” You play dumb.

“Who?” He lets out a sardonic chuckle, “Your boyfriend. Is. He. Here?” 

Your stomach lurches. It takes a lot not to grab onto something to steady yourself. 

“No one is here,” you answer firmly.

“Like I’d believe you,” he scoffs and pushes past you.

There’s nothing you can do but watch. You watch him turn out the curtains, check the old wardrobe, then the closet, before reaching under your bed. He pulls out some lost socks, but not much else. With nowhere else to turn, he goes to Jonathan’s side. It's the last place. Your heart is pounding in your throat. Your palms are clammy. 

He reaches under the skirt of Jonathan’s bed. After a moment of feeling, he yanks out a sandwich baggie of weed. His nostrils flare as he takes it in.

“Great, perfect, now I have to deal with this ,” he grumbles.

“Are we done here?” You ask.

He turns on you slowly. You cross your arms over your chest. 

“How long?” He shoots back.

“What-”

“Don't play dumb with me,” he snaps, “How long have you and Steve been together?”

Your own nostrils flare as you stare at him. Tears burn a threat into the backs of your eyes, but you don't let them spill.

“June,” you answer quietly. 

“ June ? It’s August,” he points out angrily. 

“Yeah, it is,” you nod.

Realization dawns on his face then more fury.

“Was it you Callahan caught in Steve’s car?” He interrogates.

The flush of your cheeks says enough, but you answer anyway.

“Yes, but it was one time and nothing happened.”

Your dad runs a furious hand over his face. 

“So, you've been lying to my face since June, sneaking around with Steve, and breaking every rule I set. Did I miss anything?” 

You shake your head weakly.

“No.”

“I don't even know who you are anymore,” he huffs. 

That punches you right in the gut. A tear escapes its holding cell. It breaks you.

“You didn't give me a choice! I’m an adult, dad, whether you like it or not! You can't control me or my life! I get that you don't like Steve’s dad and I get why, but Steve isn't him. Steve couldn't be farther from him. If you just took your head out of your ass for a fucking second you’d see how happy Steve makes me and how fucking in love with him I am,” you shout, voice angry and wet. 

Your dad spends a moment regarding you. Such a long moment your steam dies out and you have to stop yourself from crumpling to the floor. His entire demeanor goes from hot to cold. He nods a little.

“Fine. From now on, do whatever you want since you're going to anyway. Don't bother lying to me about it- I don't care anymore,” he states coolly.

Then he turns on his heel and stalks out of the room, slamming the door shut behind him. You drop to your knees numbly. Steve emerges from underneath Jonathan’s bed looking manic and disheveled. 

“Tell Jonathan I’m sorry for selling him out, but your dad was like a second away from grabbing my di- shit,” he shuffles to you and takes you in his arms, “I’m sorry.”

You didn't even realize you were crying. Fat warm tears stream down your face. You bury yourself in Steve and let the sobs shake you. I don't care anymore echoes in your head like a curse. After a while of falling apart in Steve’s arms, he slips out through the window. He parked his car a street away to be safe, thankfully. The rest of the night is spent crying under your comforter. 

At some point, you hear Jonathan come home. He and your dad get into a shouting match of their own. Then Jonathan slams into the room and throws himself into his bed. Both of you ignore each other. There's nothing to say. It's a long, restless night. Sara plagues the short hours you do manage to sleep. As much as you miss her, you wish she’d just stay away. You wish she would stop reminding you how much you've fucked up, how you've disappointed your dad in ways she never would have. 

The following morning your eyes are sore from crying. Your face is a touch swollen with it. Joyce gives you a small sympathetic smile when she sees you emerge in the kitchen. 

“Good morning,” El greets softly as she butters an Eggo. 

“Morning,” you croak as you ruffle her hair.

The phone trills loudly as you pour yourself some coffee. Joyce answers it. After chatting for a moment she calls gently for you. You look over your shoulder to see her holding the phone out for you.

“It’s Steve,” she tells you.

You nearly spill your coffee with how quickly you put it down. With an appreciative little smile, you take the phone from her.

“Hey,” you answer.

“Hey,” he sounds relieved to hear your voice, “I wanted to check in after last night. How’s it going?”

“It’s… alright,” you sigh, “thanks for checking.”

“If I’m being honest, it took me twenty minutes to sike myself up enough to risk your dad answering,” he chuckles.

“I appreciate your bravery,” you muse with a small smile.

“You sure you’re okay, baby?” he asks gently.

Your lip starts trembling then. You thought you had it together, but hearing Steve’s voice has made you realize how much you don't. 

“N- no, not really,” you admit quietly, knowing you have company. 

“My parents are gone. I can come get you if you want,” he offers.

“Yes, please,” you accept, muscles easing at the thought.

“Okay, I’ll be there in ten,” he tells you, “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Then the phone clicks off and you put it back on the hook. When you turn around only El is there. She’s buttering a second Eggo. You grab your coffee and sidle up next to her.

“I’m sorry about last night,” you say quietly.

“I know,” she smiles a little at you.

She slides the buttered Eggo to you. 

“Are you okay?” you check.

“I am okay. I was worried about you,” she answers.

“I’m okay,” you assure her, “Thanks for the door.”

She smiles and nods. Then she walks out to the table. You take your Eggo to go, eating it as you head back to your room. You change into fresher clothes but stay comfortable. It's the first day you and Steve have had off together in a week. After last night, you plan on staying in with him. 

Once changed, you make your way nervously to the living room. Joyce folds laundry on the couch while your dad watches an old baseball game from his recliner. Joyce smiles at you when you enter. Your dad shows no sign he even realized you wandered into the room. It sends your stomach underground, but you try not to look at him.

“I- I’m going to Steve’s,” you inform them timidly. 

Joyce’s eyes dart to your dad. He has no reaction. She looks at you again with another small, sad smile.

“Okay, have fun, sweetie,” she says.

You can't help it. You look. Your dad’s eyes stay fixed on the screen. It’s like you aren’t there at all. A lump rises in your throat, threatening to push out of your mouth as a sob. Even if it's full of rage, you just want him to look at you. He doesn't. You swallow the lump and look at Joyce again, eyes watering.

“R- right, yeah,” you answer half broken. 

With one last look at your dad’s stoic face, you go outside to wait for Steve. You’re crying again by the time he gets to you. It takes the whole ride back just to get out one sentence coherent enough for him to understand what happened before you left. I don't care anymore , your dad told you. You didn't realize how much he meant it. 

Steve brings you to his room. There you let yourself get lost in Steve beneath his covers. You let him hold you until your tears lull you to sleep. When you wake up an hour later you let him hold you some more. He makes sure you eat, even though you don't care much to. He also makes sure you drink water, something you forgot to do. Steve holds what's left of you together with pins, duck tape, and his two hands. Regardless, you’re still in one piece and for that you're grateful.

“He hates me,” you whisper to Steve in the cover of darkness in his bedroom. 

The sun is still up, but the curtains are drawn to keep it out. 

“He doesn't hate you,” Steve whispers, rubbing circles into your back as you lay together.

“He won't even look at me, Steve. You heard him last night I-” your voice cracks, “Fuck, I've ruined everything for everyone in the house.”

“Whoa, you haven't ruined anything , okay?” He holds you firmly so you look at him.

You shake your head.

“Are you kidding? Jonathan’s more grounded than I am. El and Will are mostly avoiding everyone so they don't get trapped in any fights. Joyce is stuck between feeling bad for me and my dad hating me. Everything has gone to shit and it’s my fault. It’s always my fault. I shouldn't even be the one that's still here and I’m ruining everything,” you cry. 

The comforting shapes Steve draws in your back return. He looks caught between distraught and tired. You immediately feel bad for putting all this on him. You even try to tell him as much, but he stops you.

“I want you to talk to me. I’m happy you're talking to me,” he promises, “but I don't really understand why you think you shouldn't be here.”

You blink away a few tears. Emotion wells up into a swollen ball in your gut. 

“I prayed for it to be me,” you admit, “I didn't want Sara… She was always better at bringing my parents together, making everything good again. I’ve never been any good at that. I just mess shit up. It should have been me, not her. Things would be so much better if it was me.”

Tears drip down Steve’s face by the time you're finished. He’s seen you in some dark places, but this is the darkest by far. Still, he’s determined to usher some light back into you. He’ll reach even the furthest corners that haven't been touched by light in years.

“That’s not true,” he says shakily, “I wouldn't be better.”

“Steve, that's not-”

He takes hold of your face tenderly.

“No, you don't get to decide if people are better off without you. I’m sorry about Sara, really I am. It’s awful and it sucks and there's no way to make sense of it, but that doesn't mean it should have been you. I can't imagine what my life would be like without you in it. Actually, yes I can. I’d be miserable, working for my dad, and spending every fucking minute wondering why I couldn't be brave enough to stand up for myself. Because it's you that makes me brave. Even that first time when I came back for Nancy- I didn't take a bat to that Demogorgon because of her. I did it because I saw you there. Because you’re always there when I need you to be. That's why I can't just let you say you don't deserve to be here, or that you shouldn't be. I need you here. I need you here ,” He tells you urgently and earnestly.

You both have tears streaming down your faces by the time he’s done. There aren't any words. At least, none that you have. In lieu of words, you kiss him like your life depends on it. It’s wet and salty, but it's Steve and that's all that matters.

“You really went after that Demogorgon because of me?” You whisper into his lips.

“Well, yeah, I knew your dad would kill me if I didn't,” he jokes lightly.

It draws a laugh from you. You squeeze into him tighter, needing your atoms to merge with his and become one.

“Sounds like it's my dad that makes you brave,” you joke in return.

A laugh rumbles through Steve’s chest against your cheek.

“No, he just scares me. You make me want to be better and do better. You make me want to be the kind of guy that deserves someone like you,” he answers softly. 

“You do deserve someone like me, Stevie,” you tell him.

“And you deserve to be here just like anyone else.”

You take a deep breath and let his words sink in. You try to internalize them deeply, ingrain them into your psyche, anything to make sure they stick. 

“I love you so much,” you say into his chest.

“I love you so much too,” he says back into your hair.

Steve makes a decision at that moment. He doesn't know what he can say and he might just get himself killed, but he has to talk to your dad. He has to fix this. Steve is determined to make things right for you. He’s going to take care of you like he promised.

<< Rule Two | Epilogue >>

[yxstxrdrxxm-a]

As those of you are curious, while our beloved matchmakers are busy for the entire week to speak to our clients, this is what has been happening behind the scenes...

"I see. It seems that I made a mistake trusting someone like you."

The weeks leading up to Valentine's should've proceeded smoothly. It truly, truly should've. He had hoped that by some miracle, they would be aware to try and not commit anything so idiotic.

But of course, he knew that this was not possible. After all, the one who's tied to this mess was laying by his feet, acting like the world has wronged them with the amount of bruises and hits they've retained from his bare hands.

Such a farce, he thinks. Why would they do that if they knew it was wrong?

"I thought I made it clear to you, mr. L██," he tutted, grabbing their hair to pull them up to his face. "I thought we agreed that you wouldn't say a soul to anyone of what goes on here. After all, that was what you've signed. Why are you turning around and saying all those things to everyone unaffiliated, hm?"

"I'm sick of working like this, mister Boss," he heard them answer, scowling at him in response. "D— augh— do you understand the pain we go through, being your goddamn matchmakers?"

"I'm well aware. And I trust that you've dealt with some who tried to come near me, no? So why are you complaining?"

"Cupid's literally being worked to death," Eros reasoned, but the grip on her neck was enough to have her sputtering out blood and gasping for air. "They— they're new— they can't t- ugh— take the load we could. You know this."

He chuckled. Of course he did, but he had another reason.

"They've grown to be able to tolerate it, Mr. Eros," he told the latter, making sure that his grip stayed firm despite his attempts to get away. "In fact, I think I'll keep them when their contract is up. It has been quite amusing to see them scurry around and about."

He knew what goes on between them. They were friends, and he knew exactly on how to use that against Eros. And like a fish, Eros's eyes widened as he began to struggle even more.

Pathetic.

"Who knows? If they proved themselves to be trustworthy enough, they might even be able to get the job you have," he added, his lips curving to a smile. "After all, those dead bodies won't get cleaned and stuffed by itself, Eros. I'm sure they'll make a decent delivery girl."

"You— you wouldn't."

"Hah, I will. After all, you've grown far too rusty for me to use."

Tossing Eros away, he heard their head hit the pavement as he watched him struggle to breathe. His body could barely take it, and he relished the fact.

Employing them all those years ago, back when he had to deal with almost meeting death's door, was the right choice.

"Look at you," he tutted, walking over to the writhing matchmaker. Raising his leg, he placed his foot down on the side of his head, digging his heels into the bruise.

"You've grown so weak. What happened to the Eros I've met, hm? The one who fought tooth and nail to not be like the body bags in Enkanomiya? Don't tell me you've grown too frail to fight."

Eros hissed and grabbed his leg, but he grimaced when he simply kicked his hand off like it was nothing.

"What a shame," he murmured, pulling up his phone to check a certain page.

What a fool.

"It seems that the promise you made for our clients will become nothing now."

Tucking his phone, he grabbed his gun and aimed it at Eros's body.

"Say goodbye to your new 'friends' for me."

BANG.

@.throw-letter-away | do not republish or repost my works anywhere | 2024

[distant-velleity]

Inescapable Storm

Summary: A certain TA can't accept the fact that a certain card soldier cares about him far more than he'd like to admit. Word count: 1.5k+ A/N: Based on a prompt from this list. So. It was. Not supposed to be this angsty when I started it this morning but I guess the recent downpours in our area have really affected my ability to write mood...? Oh well, haha. I just... ahaha... wow these characters can't communicate. Regardless, please enjoy! (Or don't lol, but just don't kill me thanks <3)

~

The rain pours down hard, attacking the world in rapidly frigid sheets.

Yu knows he should head inside—it’s too cold out here, his jacket has been torn to shreds and the rest of his school uniform ruined by a mix of dirt and magic, and his friends will have questions about where he went. 

(He ignores the little voice in his head that asks if they really would care.)

But, even with all that glaringly obvious in his mind, he can’t bring himself to flee from the rain and find himself an overhang to dry himself off under. 

The best he can do right now is unsteadily rise to his feet and stagger over to the nearest wall, before practically collapsing onto it for support. His chest protests violently with a sudden sharp pain from his ribs, his bad ankle feels swollen beyond belief, and there’s something dripping down his cheek that feels too warm to be rain. Wiping at it with his sleeve leaves a distinctly bloody smudge—with ink-like blackness around the edges—on the already-sullied white fabric.

He can’t find it in himself to admit that he’s, for lack of a better term, sort of screwed up.

Somewhere by his feet, his phone vibrates with a notification. And then, after a minute, another. And then another, until Yu has no choice but to curse and grab it. The screen protector is cracked irreparably, but that’s fine.

ace of hearts where r u yu? whered u go dude

Yu mutters another ‘fuck’ under his breath, staring at the messages even as raindrops distort the screen. He debates, for a moment—if he should leave Ace on read, if he should tell him the truth, or maybe he could just lie about it entirely to buy himself more time—

…No, that’s not an option. 

In the end, he caves, fingers slipping on his phone’s keyboard while trying to send a quick response.

wild card (koi.yu) behjnd hte lecture hsll

His text is marked as Read right away, but with no other response. Yu sighs and closes his eyes, tipping his head back to rest on the cold stone of the wall. The rain doesn’t sting when it lands on his face; it smells fresh, much better than the dirt and blood he’d nearly inhaled earlier. 

He finds himself abandoning all other worries to just feel the wall behind his back and the rain all around him, ignoring the pain and exhaustion all over his body. It’s sort of a hopeless, ridiculous thought, but maybe the heavy downpour can wash away some of the evidence on his skin, can wash away everything about this situation that shouldn’t have happened—

“…there you are, Yu—Yu!”

Yu’s eyes snap open to see Ace right next to him, chest heaving with the exhaustion from running.

“I can’t believe you’re out here in this weather,” Ace complains, on the contrary taking off his jacket and draping it over Yu’s head and shoulders. “What are you, stupid?”

“No more than the idiot in front of me taking off his jacket,” Yu shoots back. He tries to take it off, but Ace just puts it right back over him. “I don’t need this, Ace.”

“Where’s yours, then?”

Yu pauses at that, then shamefully averts his eyes from the mess of black fabric on the ground a few feet away. “…Ruined,” he mutters.

“Of course. For the same reasons you look like shit, probably.” Where Ace would normally smirk after saying this, he just narrows his eyes and cups his hands around Yu’s face to get a better look. It feels so distinctly not Ace-like, how he caresses him, but typical in its mix of roughness and gentleness. “Seriously, what the hell even happened to you?”

“What are you doing? You’re so—” He hisses softly when Ace’s thumb accidentally presses too hard on the bruised side of his jaw, and a flash of regret ghosts the card soldier’s face. Yu purses his lips. “...C’mon, it was just a little fight. Some stupid guys from your dorm. I put them in their place, though.”

Ace’s eyes widen considerably. “You got in a fight on your own? Are you kidding me?”

Yu tries for a small smirk to add some levity, to make this conversation normal. “Yeah. Didn’t have to rely on you guys or anything.”

He doesn’t know what reaction he was expecting, but he definitely doesn’t get it—not with Ace suddenly stiffening and his hands shifting to clamp around Yu’s shoulders. Not with the hurricane of both frustration and concern brewing in those bright red eyes, worse than the rainstorm around them. None of it is what he predicted would happen.

“You’re such an idiot,” Ace says, a bit bitter and very angry, and loud enough to match both. “I can’t even take my eyes off you for a few minutes without you getting involved in shit like this.”

“Look who’s talking,” Yu retorts, even though Ace’s hands are the one thing stopping his body from trembling like a leaf in a storm. “I think this is tame compared to the incidents you’ve started in the past year. You know how many times we all could have died? A few bruises and scrapes is nothing when you look at that. I’m fine, Ace.”

“No way you think you can get away with lying to me.” Ace grits his teeth. “It’s not okay, you’re not fine. Have you seen yourself? You’re driving me batshit crazy here, Yu.”

Yu bristles. “Well, now you get to know how I feel on a regular basis. Seriously, why are you getting so upset over a fight? It’s not like these don’t happen to everyone on a regular basis—are you finally growing a conscience?”

“Excuse you? I think I’m allowed to be concerned about the person who still bleeds and cries blot,” snaps Ace. At Yu’s surprised look, he huffs with a dry kind of mirth. “You think I don’t know about that? You’ve done a pretty awful job of hiding it, and that fight was really just the cherry on top. Look.”

With his ungloved right hand, he reaches up to swipe the heel of his palm along Yu’s face, where a major cut stings from the sudden contact. The substance that comes off is a mixture of blood and muddy blot, proving his point. Ace displays his pale palm, now stained, with an unimpressed look.

“I was trying to—” Yu takes a sharp breath. “I was trying to keep it a secret because it’s not a big deal. It’s no one’s business but mine.” Through the raindrops still caught on his lashes, he glares at Ace. “If I’d known you’d be like this, I would have tried harder to hide it—”

Ace shakes him by the shoulders, too gently compared to his tone as he starts shouting. “What the fuck do you mean, it’s ‘no one’s business’ and you’d try harder to hide it?! Didn’t you learn anything from your Overblot? Hey, don’t I—don’t the people around you mean anything?”

“Of course you do!” That’s, to Yu’s own horror, the raw truth. “You guys mean so much to me it hurts.”

“Then why—”

“That’s exactly why I can’t tell you anything! Because you didn’t sign up to fight my demons for me, you don’t need to be my knight in shining armor!” 

“I don’t need to, but by the Seven, sometimes I sure wish I could!” Ace has never cried in front of Yu before, but it’s starting to look like that might change. “Fuck, I just wish you could tell me what you’re thinking sometimes, at the very least! I don’t care if you never return what I really feel for you—aren’t we friends? Didn’t you say it yourself, that a good relationship is based on care and trust?! We’ve got plenty of the ‘care’ part, but you still won’t trust me…!”

The rain seems to have thinned, still more than a sprinkle but no longer a torrent.

Out of breath from his half-declaration, half-confession, and all anger, Ace inhales shakily. His eyes are wide, either with broken rage or horror at the thoughts he just haphazardly converted into words. 

Like a gilled animal left beached after a storm, with the air stolen from his lungs, Yu opens his mouth to reply—

“You… you…”

—and closes it quickly, finding himself at a loss for words. He can’t tell if he wants to laugh or cry, either—this has to be some kind of cruel joke, right?

But it isn’t, Ace doesn’t play around with feelings in that specific way because he cares way more than he’d ever like to show normally, everyone knows this, and—God Yu has really fucked up hasn’t he—

“Look, just…” Ace lets go of Yu’s shoulders, gingerly tugging down his jacket so it better protects the TA from the rain. “...sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled at you for all that,” he mumbles, some of the fight in him evaporating. “Let’s go inside and dry off somewhere, and—and get your injuries treated, then…” As if hesitant to address the elephant in the room he shouldn’t have brought into the conversation to begin with, he trails off. “Okay?”

Yu nods without saying anything, arms crossing to hug himself. 

He lets Ace lead the way to a place out of the rain, and they don’t utter a single word to each other on the way there.

[bloogers-boogers]

So I've been getting into the sp fandom lately and let me tell u it's a must for me to do a one-shot.. It's gonna be a good attempt

One-shot SP

/CURSE/

(Kinda shipping? (Kyle/Cartman) Kinda trying to replicate the imagination land scene where Kyle dies an other various scenes, Cartman(important for the plot),Cartman and Kenny lore,some Stan against, and death of a main character. Kenny plays a role, also y'know death and resurrection that's he's thing.. right?)

It a pretty damn long One-shot.

It's been a common day in the little mountain town of Colorado called south park, Randy had arranged a parade/party at one of the most popular places in town 'DikinBaus' because of some festive weed special (trying to make it seem out of the ordinary weed when it comes to the same shit with a diffrent label) that Stan Marsh and his three other friends would care less about, well, atleast one. Eric Cartman.

Yes, the little evil master mind of south park.

Bitch was angry and quite bitter about the fact that his old home was no longer his, after being part of creating it's popularity. Though he did deserve it and his jewish friend made it know.

"I don't know why you're so pissed off, Cartman, you we're asking for it when you took advantage of Butters hard work," The latter roll his eyes.

"Whatever, it's Butters," He stated, as if it were obvious.

"Dude, just be grateful you got your old house back," Stan tune in, his tone was a little bit frustrated then it should've, luckily his fat friend payed not much attention to it. He wished he could move back, be close to his friends, have his old life back. But his father was farther than an idiot to just let go of his marijuana dream.

"How am I gonna be grateful about losing my DikinBaus!?," He exclaimed angry. Kenny, their blonde friend snorted, "shut up Kinny!."

"C'mon man, it's not a big deal," He patted the bigger boy's shoulder in hopes he'll just moved on from the subject. But ofcourse, he didn't.

"No! I can't leave it like this with out a fight!, I work hard for that shitty place to reopen, it's not fair!," He clenched he's fist, glaring at the nothing.

Both three boys just looked at each other, in a mutual agreement of not getting involved.

Later that day, Stan was forced to partake in the event host by his father, ofcourse not before arguing and complaining about it being just another waste of the income they made, for then later on his father to complain about how they had no money for more resources. Repeat all the time. Stan just hold the bridge of his nose outta frustration.

No boy his age should be this stress out for his parents doings, in this scenario, his dad.

"Hey Stan, check this out!," Exclaimed excited, Randy. The boy followed him, as he has no other choice but to listen.

"What the fuck is that," Stan questioned a little horrified, confused? He couldn't tell, cause he actually gave two shits. But this looked outta the ordinary of the ordinary. If that even makes sense.

There was a seagull looking mutation with what it seems like a rats feet. For a second there he was worried his father accidentally caught man bear pig's kid.

"It's the Tergrity farms mascot!," He exclaimed even more excited taking out a board outta nowhere, explaining his new strategy.

Oh. So that's that.

"Yeah, bye," said lastly, in a flat tone, no longer caring about the rest before returning outside.

Stan was not gonna get involved, no matter how bizarre and crazy his dad's Karen episodes get, he told himself for the millionth time that same day. He was NOT getting involved.

[...]

"For fuck sake dad! What did you do!?," He shouted confused by the change of event, being tied in a chair was far from the plans he had for this evening.

"Uh.. well, let's say it a TEGRITY strategy," Randy smiled commercially, clearly seems nervous. Clearly fucked up. The latter frowned from that response.

Stan sighed, "okay. What did you do," he asked again, finally had calm himself and processed the situation he's in. No pizza night at Tolkien's tonight he said to himself.

"Well, remember my mascot?,"

He nodded, ofcourse he did, it all happened today.

"Well turns out he's like, related to chutulu."

Stan wanted to grip his nose outta frustration again, so bad, after hearing that, "what?," he asked again. As he couldn't believe that thing was related to.. unfuckin' believable. Actually it was definitely believable.

"Yeah, I don't know how'd it happened but he found out and wanted to massacre me and my farm, can you believe that! I even offered some of my weed," said exhausted while having a pout face as a child being scolded.

"Okay, so how the hell did we end up being tied up?."

"Stan, there's a bunch of cult members in south park," he stated obviously while he rolled his eyes by being questioned this much. But he still bother to answer, "those motherfuckers knew chutulu wanted us so they found us, knocked us and tied us up, as their way of worship. We're pretty much a sacrifice."

"But why me!?," he stated bitterly as he was NOT trying to get involved today.

"Because you are, Stan! I told you about my strategy did I!?."

"I left!?."

They bicker a bit more before Stan decided to speak out for a solution.

"Look, I think, I have a plan. You know Cartman?."

"Your fat friend? What about him?."

"Well, he manipulated chutulu to join he's superheroe team awhile ago. Thing is, if we get Cartman, maybe he can help us."

"Isn't he like, a dick?."

"It's complicated. Let's just find a way outta of these ropes."

"Easy." Randy picked out of his pocket shirt with his mouth some weed and light it up with his feet and a lighter he had in his pants. And burned the ropes. He then untied him.

"You could've done that all this time!?," exclaimed baffled by his father's stupidity once again.

"No time Stan!," he said while he ran into the depths of the woods with the boy following behind.

Yes, they were in the woods. Let's move on.

[...]

Kenny found himself running like a mad man, he did not mean to provoke the dark lord, but he did. He just wanted answers about his curse! Was that too much to ask?

But here he was, regretting kicking one of those big claws of him after being bluntly ignored by chutulu, it seems it was looking for something. He assumed it was Cartman as he couldn't link the others with it. That fat fuck. What did he do!?

He couldn't bare die today as he was not aware how far chutulu would detroy the town by tomorrow. He needs to know why it's here, and ofcourse, his curse! Cause it seemed no one cares besides himself! Fuck!

He dodge one of chutulu lasers that ended destroying a car near by.

He hid in one of the markets from town, as if that's gonna make a difference. Then he saw him. That fat fucker! He was with Kyle and Butters in the meat section. Both seemed to be arguing about something while the blonde hold a riffle nervously watching the two, he'd care less right now about whatever those two were arguing about.

"You son of a bitch!," He slammed cartman into one of the freezer, Cartman looked at him with opened feared eyes, "what did you do!?."

"K-kinny..!?."

"Woah, dude, calm down," said, Kyle, "what's going on?."

" 'What's going on?'," he responded incredulous, "chutulu's out there destroying the town and killing countless souls! That's what going on!."

"Oh," Butters said not being so stoked about it.

"Yeah, we kinda know that, asshole," the brunette said casually loosing his grip.

"Eric thinks that chutulu may be here because of a mission," Butters explained.

"Oh really," the blonde said sarcastically eyeing him, "Cartman why the fuck did you summon chutulu here!? Do you know all the damage you've done."

"Excuse me? I didn't do shit, kinny!," Cartman exclaimed offended, by being accused so surely.

Yeah, he has committed various, and I mean, VARIOUS crimes, but he did NOT do this. Though he must admit to himself that this turn of events could be convenient for him to destroy DikinBaus. As no one in this stupid town does not deserve such a wonderful magnificent place. That HE made. And as such rightly deserves it and rightly could destroy it if he wanted to, right?

"Like I'm gonna believe whatever shit comes from your mouth, fatso," Kenny stated.

"It's true." Kyle spoke up, "what Cartman said.. look, I've been following this asshole since he said he was gonna try to do something about that dumb hotdog place, so, I followed him around-"

"Like and stalker," bluntly added Cartman.

"And-" Kyle continued, ignoring cartman's comment before frowning, "the only thing he's done is shit on Butter's porch and purchasing 200 hotdogs in hopes DikinBaus will run out and shut down. Which is the most ridiculous thing I've ever witnessed–"

"Oh c'mon, Kyel it was brilliant!," Cartman defended his stupidity, "it's easy an effective! I buy all the hotdogs, open my own stand and start a business," finalizing while crossing his arms. Kyle look at him angrily.

Nobody will question where he got the money to pay for all those hotdogs. Most likely in a fraudulent way. Whatever it doesn't matter.

"You ate all the hot dogs, fatass!!."

Cartman frown finding a better comeback, "well..! Atleast I have hot dogs!."

"What?," Kyle responded simply with one eyebrow upward.

"Tsch, whatever. I have a new better plan that I won't be sharing to either of you assholes."

Kenny, snapped. He had enough of this bullshit.

"Guys! Chutulu!?."

"Oh yeah, yeah," Cartman had his arms up. A freaked Kenny is a scary Kenny, "uh, what about him?," he added.

"Really?," he asked again incredulously, not waiting for an answer he continued, "something or someone must have summon the dark lord. We need to find a solution to get him out."

"Dude, that's chutulu. Even if we wanted to do something what can we do about it?," Kyle added skeptical.

"Yeah, it's not like this shitty town deserves to be saved anyways," Butters stated, still a little bitter about having to spend community service cleaning the mess the towns people made just cause he was seen as a sex offender for pinching a girl who he thought had no green on San Patrick's day!

"Well. Cartman?," Kenny asked staring deeply into Cartman's eyes. For some odd reason he felt a connection with the boy. As if his eyes had a glint of something.. he just couldn't recall what it was.

"How would I know?," Cartman asked confused, and kinda annoyed that he hasn't even started his plan B because of an overdramatic Kenny.

"You manipulated chutulu you fat fuck! Do it again," He exclaimed frustrated of the whole thing now looking at the other boys. He's finding all of these unnecessary scenarios being unfold overwhelming. Nobody seems to care, nobody seems to care about chutulu destroying south park, maybe he doesn't care!?

He sigh. Maybe he really doesn't. Maybe all this is an excuse to find out about his curse shield with the idea of being heroic. Screw that. He cared! This town may be fucked up but it was his home! Our home! They must care!

"Okay, I got a plan," Kenny stated finally after a brief silence.

[...]

Cartman found himself frowning angrily standing in the middle of the street, in a kitty costume. He would've rather just picked his coon costume but Kenny stated it'd be more effective and he was definitely trying to mess with him once again, cause he found it hilarious.

Stupid kinny.

The other three boys were hiding behind a dunked car near by him. Not like it'd make a difference. Always put Cartman in the more risky messy situations! Ofcourse he was convinced with a reward if things goes well, not because he's scared of Kenny and he was being a pussy! It was the reward he was promised of!

He heard Kenny snicker a bit, stupid kinny. He finds this amusing didn't he!? Asshole.

He then was faced with the giant dark lord with each step the ground rumble and the buildings breaking and weakening by him.

He gulped. He's done this before, he can do it again. Why is he nervous this time?

Both pair of eyes met. Time for action.

"Miaw Miaw! If it isn't one of my best pals! Miaw miaw!," he then climbed in one of chutulu's feet to his head. My gawd he deserves a reward for this acting. He then pursued on scratching the lord's head as he enjoyed the sensation of the fake claws on his skull, "who's my precious chutulu?," he then added a purr distracting the giant.

The three boys started preparing the trap they had made while upon seeing cartman's manipulation was once again, working. That fucking fatass.

Kyle was trying to knot the rope to one of the polls light but end up falling backwards in the sight of chutulu, who immediately put it's attention on the redhead. Great, just fucking wonderful.

Chutulu immediately turned his attention to Kyle and growled once knowing damn well this was set up.

"Dammit jew!," Cartman shouted making it more obvious that this in fact was, indeed a setup.

'Twack!'

Chutulu looked behind him as he had felt a tiny rock hit his tail.

"Stan?," Kyle said confused. Once Stan and his dad we're visible with some hunting gear on and some guns in there hands.

This was not going as plan. And once again Kenny sigh frustrated. He wasn't sure if the new pair of characters were a good thing or not. He's gonna let it slide this time.

Randy slowly approached chutulu leaving behind Stan, who just cautiously watched.

He then took out a weird mutant goose rat thing from behind his right arm.

Chutulu raised a brow. If that's even possible, but it was. Ofcourse it was.

Chutulu looked down as the mutant thingy went to his side rubbing himself against it's feet. It was heartwarming if it weren't for the situation they were put for and who it was. Then Chutulu did the imaginable, he squashed it.

Stan and Randy looked stoked.

"Well that does it," said Randy.

Both Marshes mouth agape, still looking at chutulu and now dead corpse.

And in splits seconds Kenny put himself in front of the two, standing in front of chutulu embracing his blonde hair exposing his face, he had taken his parka off. Glaring at the monster above. He have had enough.

"What am I?," he asked once more, "answer me now!."

"What's with this one?," Randy side eyed Stan, as he shrugged in response. Confused also.

Chutulu ignored him and approached Randy. Which jolted a bit nervous as he did not figure out what he did to anger the creature. If it wasn't his mascot than what?

He lowered his face to the man and quickly head bunked him to the side, hitting his body through a store window breaking into pieces.

"Dad!!," Exclaimed Stan, rushing in hurry to his father's aid. Noneless a idiot but still his idiot.

"Ow! I'm okay Stan.." the injured man reassured.

In a blink of an eyes the military had showed up and started attacking chutulu, bullets in and out angering the creature, he had put himself on it's feet again trying to block the bullets and attacking the attakers, Cartman still on the dark lord's head completely taken off guard as he was distracted with the dialog was then shot in the back 'ow!' falling off chutulu's head straight to the ground. He had broked his limbs and neck during impact. This anger chutulu even more, as for him kitty Cartman was like a pet.

Kyle and his other two friends had witnessed it. As he shouted, "¡Cartman!," he ran towards him caring less of the chaos around him.

"Fuck, he killed Cartman!," Kenny exclaimed as he approached the now what appears dead boy.

'There's no way'.

"Holy fuck!," said Stan from a far, he was still on his father's side but had witnessed it aswell.

Kyle was next to him analyzing the boy's wounds as he couldn't believe it.

"He's dead.." says Butters while having his mouth slightly agape standing next to Kenny watching the now corpse.

"You bastard.." whispered Kenny, he was staring at his so called best friend, lifeless eyes. It was definitely an odd sight.

"He can't be dead.." Kyle reassured griping into the boy's costume, "he just can't," he frowned.

Stan had already approached the scene as his father seem to had been well standing up not as injured.. or in this scenario dead.

He was also as stoked as the two other boys that were just standing there watching there fat friend laying there. Kyle was the only one on the ground gripping on to Cartman as if he didn't want to let go.

Kyle stared at him for a bit longer than he expected, his body had lost color, his half lidded lifeless eyes staring at him and his hands were cold.. this can't be happening. Cartman can't die. That's not possible!

Kyle with both his fist hit his friend's chest as hard as possible, anger. So much anger!

"Cartman! Can't! Die!," hitting him more times with no intention, it just felt right.

"Woah, dude," Stan put a hand on his best friend's shoulder trying to calm him down he's never seen his friend act this way. And to be honest he never expected to see Cartman this way either. Lifeless.

Kyle smacked Stan's hand off him still in disbelief.

"¡Cartman! Cartman!," he shouted almost in a cry, desperation in his voice," you fat fuck! Wake up!," he again hit as many times as he could, in the dead one's chest.

"Dude, Kyle.. he's gone," Stan said in the most pity voice. As if he could feel what Kyle felt.

"No he's bullshittin' he's fucking bullshitting, Stan!," He said almost as he's trying to believe it himself, he felt himself shake, his eyes felt watery.

A big thump caught their attention leaving the other boy kneeled to the other not leaving his side. He could now care less about that fucking dark lord and this stupid chaotic town!

"You fat fuck...!" he whispered more to himself as he closed his eyes and clenched his fist.

He may hate Cartman, and may have countless times told him that's he's better off being dead. But he really didn't mean it. If Randy can be alive, if Garrison can be alive, if man bear pig can be alive.. then why can't him? It's only fair. Two of those people he mentioned are assholes in there own fucked up way, but have done countless crimes and gotten away of being a dick atleast man bear pig is a wild satanic creature it makes sense if he kills thousands of lives. But those two other bastards are here! Free, alive.. So can Cartman!

"Cartman..?," he said choked as he felt steaming tears fall down his cheeks as he watched his fat friend laying down breathless, no bicker response. No insults. Nothing but flat silence from his part. His death even seems painful, not the typical peaceful dead look, just plain painful.

[...]

As the day ended things went back to normal as per usual, well almost.

Kenny never thought he'd find himself sitting in a funeral of one of his best friends. It was always the way around. For some reason it felt wrong. That he was supposed to be in that box and not his friend.

His mother crying on the side of the casket while some of the south park parents tried to comfort her, but failed. As she was never that close to them anyways. Besides, deep inside she knew no one would fully understand what she feels as she knows her son wasn't the best of person's. And that probably there were people from this town who'd want this or asked for this. But she? She saw the evil in him and had gotten tired of his stupid schemes but that was still her little boy and she will always be his mother. And that won't ever change, so the pain will always remain there. And everyone else was an hypocrite in her eyes.

The four boys remain silent, listening to the ceremony behold them. Yes four boys, as for now that Cartman would no longer partake in their group they added Butters in his place.

"So, do I like have to act like an asshole now?," Butters asked grabbing their attention.

"Uh no?," Stan answered.

"Well if I'm gonna take Eric's place I think I should like try to act like him, like when you guys once choose Clyde because he was the second fat boy of our class..?"

"No Butters, you don't have to act like Cartman," Stan stated now a little annoyed, this wasn't the place or time to discuss something like this when their friend hasn't still been buried. It kinda stings.. this feels fresh. It is fresh. Who knew this fat fuck would affect him?

"Are you sure?."

"For fuck sake Butters, shut up!," Kyle exclaimed angrily, receiving a couple of odd stares from some of the other people there. He cared less to be honest. He clenched his fist as he wanted so bad to punch his face and beat him up. As he'd normally just do with Cartman. Cartman..

Cartman, Cartman, Cartman..

He looked down to his feet avoiding his friends gaze.

[...]

Two days have pass, and honestly this Butters thing just wasn't working. Stan wondered if he truly would prefer having Cartman back than having to witness a whimp like Butters attempt to be a douchebag loser. Don't get him wrong, Butters can be a douchbag but he can't get into Cartman's level. Even if he tries to be. Maybe that's what Butters doing wrong? He's attempting to be someone he's not when he can easily be himself as a douche. But still, not Cartman.

For much of Stan's surprise, south park still hasn't changed a bit after his friend's passing. It's still chaotic, and bizarre. And as hard to admit it even feels longer and even torturous. New characters appear here and there, some were dicks, others were plain awful, some just bland boring ass people. He couldn't believe it, he's actually starting to miss him, as these other characters just feel forced to continue continuity when it's just full filling!

It's just two days. Two fucking days. He's been longer than that with out seeing his fat friend and he's okay with it, even thankful, and yet knowing he won't ever be seeing him because he's dead just changes things.

Let's not even talk about Kyle. Out of the the three. Yes, he's not counting Butters. Fuck Butters!

Kyle has been the most affected. Ofcourse he also has to witness the cringey attempts of their idiotic blonde friend, trying to become his new "arch-rival" as that comes in the packaging of being Eric Cartman. Including being a selfish, manipulative piece of shit. Anyways, point is, to be Eric Cartman you must also hate Kyle Brofloski. And Butters just doesn't have it in him to fully hate on someone or just give him the time of day Cartman would normally do daily, actually obsessively to Kyle.

So here he was, on one of the seats of the school buss behind Kenny and Butters, hearing Butters trying to bicker Kyle. It really feels surreal.

"So, Kayl."

"It's 'Kahl', if you're trying to mimic Cartman atleast do it right," he responded back with an added eye roll at the end.

"Well, geezz.. I mean Ay! Shut up you dumb jew! I'll do and say what I want, whenever I want!."

Well, now that's actually better. Stan actually had to repressed a laugh cause he actually found that funny.

"Wow, Butts you're getting better," complimented Kenny.

Butters beamed and stared at Kyle, who silently watch another kid entering the bus. He really did not bothered putting his attention on the blonde.

"C'mon Kyle, you must admit that was pretty good," He tune in, trying to get Kyle to loosen up.

"Yeah.. I suppose," Kyle then looked up at Butters while the other just looked back nervously. Kyle sigh, "can you fight?" he then added with a glint of mischief while the other two boys stared at Kyle, confused for the sudden change in demeanor. Butters looked a little uncertain on what to answer.

As he should, this is Kyle we're talking about.

"O-ofcourse I do!," In fact, Butters does know how to fight, just not Kyle, never Kyle.

"Great, meet me up after school in the playground," said finalized while standing up to get off the bus.

"Ah geez.." Stan heard Butters whispered before getting off the bus to join his friend.

He didn't know what Kyle had planned, but he sure wants to find out.

[...]

"Oh geez! I don't think I can be Cartman no more!," exclaimed Butters with a couple of bruises in his face, tired, "Kyle was beating me up like a butcher to its meat selection!."

"Well that is Cartman's job to deal with y'know," Stan added. He figured this must be a way for Kyle to get rid of Butters. So he followed along.

"Yeah dude, if you're gonna be Cartman. You must know that you have to become Kyle's personal punching bag," Kenny tune in, actually enjoying the laugh. He knew we were all messing with him. Cause in fact, it seems Stan was not the only one bothered by Scotch.

"Oh Jesus!."

"Man, actually I do believe you can become Cartman, even better. As you seem to be more capable of taking Kyle's moods," yeah, we can be assholes sometimes. Stan smiled a bit.

"Oh boy.." he was not liking what he was hearing. Before adding anything further Kyle approached the group, tuning in with a happy humming.

"Hey there guys," he then glared at Butters, "Butters."

"AHHHHHH!!!," He scream while dashing out of there before adding, "Screw you guys I'm going home!."

"Well, that does it," Kyle shrugged.

"Guess no one can deal with you more than a day," Kenny added.

"I guess so."

"So now what?," Stan questioned. Everything just went silent.

Normally Cartman would suggest some stupid shit, we'd shit on first before following through with it. But even the substitute bailed on us, so we must figure it out on our own.

"Board games..?," Ken then added.

"Nah, done that yesterday," Kyle replied, tapping his foot on the ground, kinda impatient, kinda bored.

"What about basketball," Stan suggested. Once again the three boys remain silent. The wind whistling in their ears as they thought harder and the space between them felt thicker as they become smaller. And smaller, and smaller..

"Who wants to try summoning Cartman with a ouija?," Kenny added plainly, while pursuing on leaving the area to his place, with the certainly the others would followed.

In fact, not only did they follow, they were eager for it.

[...]

-In Hell-

"Dammit! no barbecue at sight in the most hottest place between three worlds!," Cartman exclaimed baffled.

He's been a hell citizen for two days now, and it has sucked. He isn't even allowed to go in the cool clubs cause he was a minor and would be forever be one for eternity! He did enjoy the public torture that was embrace there but besides that, nothing too outta the ordinary he could see up in south park.

He sigh, not knowing what to do, with out his friends to annoy, death feels empty. Boring as fuck! He wants to get outta here!

When he approached a counter were there were two men talking about some country song while drinking martinis, he decided to sit next to them. They immediately stayed quiet as his presence disturb them. 'Dumb bitches' he thought.

"So... how can we get out?," he asked.

"Excuse me?,"

"Yeah, like how do we get out from hell."

"Oh, why the hell do you want to get out?."

"Because it's boring as fuck, i want to live!."

"Well, he is young, George," one of the men side eyed his companion. The other nodded in agreement.

"Well there's no way, young boy," one of the men answered, I'll call him number two. Pftt, number two, get it? Hahaha! He repressed a laugh and continued trying to get more information outta the two grown men.

"Okay, but like there must be atleast someone who COULD know a way outta here, right?," he digged.

"Hmm.." number one begin thinking, pftt.. number one, "actually I believe there is."

Getting the boy's attention, he leaned forward as if it'd help him hear them any better. They were both drunk as fuck. For what it appears. Their talk was all gibberish, but 'anything to get out of here' he said to himself.

"You should look for the 'dark red soul'."

"The 'dark red soul'..?," he murmured.

"Yup, he lives in the coast side, just follow the direction signs and go to the yellow hotel. And just ask for him, someone must know where exactly he lives at, he's quite a party goat," number two explained chugging the bit of martini he had left.

So that, he did, he followed the directions signs that lead him to hotel 'jak n off' it was yellow, that's all he cared about. This asshole better know how to get out or he'll make sure he'll make himself a new bowl of chili.

[...]

"Oh, looking for red man?."

"Sure? Is that dark red soul?," he asked not very sure if it's the same guy he was told of.

"Yeah, that's his party animal name. Follow me."

'Tch, lame.' But he did follow. This tall freckle man took him to a long dark alleyway, he was feeling skeptical at first but then remembered he couldn't die if he was already dead. It's like respawn. Sigh. He remembered when he first came here, he fell in some spikes down a lava-fall (waterfall) he also remembered how painful it was but how quick he repawn back. So all is new.

The man enter a dark room and turn on the lights.

"Yeesh!!," some rookie exclaimed angrily as he was caught in a very peculiar position with a lady friend. Both naked.

"The fuck man!?," the red head turned his gaze down looking at the chubby boy.

His eyes widen as the latter.

"Dad..?" his mouth slightly agape. He couldn't fucking believe it. Out of all things. Out of all people. It was him.

Back then he would've dreamt of finding his dad, feeling complete and happy. But once he knew about what the town hid from him what HE hid from him, he just became bitter with the idea of ever having a father figure in the picture. He figured it would've weakened him and it was for the best to had never encountered or meet him. Cause he hates feeling weak. Cause he isn't.

They both looked at each other for a long brief silent second.

The other two people that were in the room left them, well more like the other dude stole his companion.

"Uh.. 'dark red soul'..?" he added, uncertain what to say. The boy felt his legs wobble and his lip twitch. While the older man had his left eye twitch instead.

"Yeah.." Jack answered quietly.

They were both put in a very awkward situation.

"..Eric huh?.." He then added when he received no answer. He wasn't use to having someone who didn't listen to him. Noneless a son who doesn't. Scott was always so eager to answer him even with the most smallest things. Man, he really missed his boy.

"You know my name?," the boy answered too quickly than he expected. He cough nervously, "ofcourse you do, I'm Eric Cartman," he boost his ego. More like a cover up of his insecurities at the moment.

Jack lighten up a bit at the comment. Indeed he knew about the trouble maker he was, well the trouble in general, everyone in south park knew. The son of a single crackhead whore mother, a whore he slept with.

"I see you're quite a confident one," he said cheeky before nudging the boy.

Cartman jolted by that action. Skepticism was basically like his middle name. That type of gesture is uncalled for and unnecessarily. And it made him feel uneasy for some reason.

"Yeah..right," he decided to ignore the remark, "okay so.. I heard you know how to get me back to south park?."

"Oh, so that's why you're here?," then he realized that the only reason the boy is presented here was because of the inevitable, he died in the upper world.

Maybe it's his instincts, or just maybe because he's been so lonely. He feels this sudden sickening attachment towards the boy. As messed up as it sounds, considering he did ground him into chilly. But in his defense he didn't know. He didn't know he was his father. Would've that made a difference? That he couldn't know. But that made him soften just a bit. That would keep him fooled just for now.

"Yeah, I want to get back home," Cartman stated, as the tense moment had started to drift off coming to a lighter ambient.

"Oh, well I suppose I could help you with that," he lied. He saw Eric's eyes sparkle a bit, as in hope. It remind them so much like Scott's..

"Sweet!," he exclaimed excited. Finally, this literally hell will be over soon.

[...]

"So you're saying you own that hotel?," Cartman asked. As his father explained most of his living down in hell and his ropes in it.

They headed to a taco stand and Jack gesture him to take a seat in one of the chairs while he order.

"Pretty much. Cool huh?," he responded a little proud of his accomplishments.

"Yeah.. so.. 'jak n off'?," Cartman asked while he saw the waiter place their beverages in the counter.

"Haha yeah.. I thought it'd be funny. No one seems to care," he added with a chuckle, taking a sip of his soda.

"Ha.. I- when I was in the upper world me and my friend kinny started a business reopening a old hot dog restaurant and we named it 'DikinBaus' haha.. just to mess around with people," he admitted, strangely still feeling uneasy and nauseous.

"Ha! 'DiknBaus'? I love it!," Jack laughed a bit whipping a fake tear out of his right eye, "I guess we share a certain humor, Eric."

"Yeah.." he look down at his hands. It felt odd talking to his dad. He wasn't sure if it was good but he knew it wasn't unpleasant.

"So you also have a business?," Jack asked interested. His boy does resemble him in ways he won't deny that, though his slut of a mother's features were surely there, all over his face to be in fact.

Scott never seem interest in taking big steps on trying to climb to the top leagues or have big ideal dreams. He seemed okay with living in the low peaceful life and well, following his favorite bands gushing over there new songs as a fellow follower than a leader.

"Well. Turns out they took it away from me when it became one of the most popular places in town! Can you believe that?," he complained, finally letting loose the awkward tension he felt, to vent his anger and displeasure, "and what's worse is that my mom followed through with it and didn't care that we had a lifetime successful business with a cool looking house!."

"That sounds awful, your mom's a bitch," Jack admitted. He can already tell Eric can have a bright future as a business man if he we're to try harder.

The boy jolted. It anger him when anyone talks bad about his mom, maybe Jack can be an exception being his dad and all?.. but it still pinch his heart and left a sour feeling in the tip of his tongue. Yes, his mom's a bitch, but only he can say it. He really doesn't know how to respond to his dad about it.

"Right.." he then continued sipping his soda, "so, how did you manage to create one of the most popular hotels in hell?," ignoring further his mother's mentioned.

"Well, when I was down here I was very popular among the other people that had also previously died. I stood out in a way."

The food had already been served. And Cartman picked one of the bean tacos and starting munching it, he felt his father's stare on him and he felt conscious of how he was eating 'Do I have something?'.

"Really? What made you so different?," oblivious to the other stares he was getting from the other customers.

"My death," He bluntly admitted, making Cartman almost choke on his food. 'Fuck'

"Oh," he flatly stated.

"Yeah, it was a hit back then. Everyone was talking about it, and people glorified me for it. As they say it was one the most radical deaths they've had ever heard happening," Jack explained, smiling by the memory, he found himself oddly proud of it. As it had benefited him in so much, and honestly he liked the attention on him, "As to expected I was very popular and was given many opportunities, like talk shows and lots and lots of 'money'," said emphasizing the last word.

Cartman stared at him for brief seconds, "money?," hint of greed in his words. Jack smiled by that, and nodded. He sure was his son.

"So.. how did you die?," he finally asked that anxious question he's been wanting to know.

"So like, I was kinda forced to help my annoying friends out to bring back chutulu to the underground, even though I didn't want to and wanted to just use chutulu to destroy 'DikinBaus' as because no one deserves such a wonderful place I made, and I was shot by the military by accident while I was on top of chutulu's head, falling straight to the ground," Cartman answered casually, squeezing some ketchup on his plate mimicking the blood he imagine leaving, sparing the costume details and the manipulation tactic he use too.

"Wow, I guess us Tenenorman just have it in us on dying radically and cool," Jack laughed excited with a fist in the air.

The name used took Cartman off guard. He was a Cartman after all! But it really warmed his heart to be complimented that much and it felt nice, being included for once. So he let it slide just this once.

"Yeah, I guess it is!," He exclaimed more confident and puffed his chest out, proud.

Jack gave him a warm smile and Cartman returned it back.

[...]

Jack had went on asking for some books he claimed as 'solutions' for Cartman's problem, while the boy decided to sit back and rethink his choices of the chilly incident and how different it would've been if they had just told him the truth.

Then, he felt a odd buzzing sound inside of his ear. He started smaking his left side with his palm.

"Cartman!," he.. 'was that Stan?', "Dude can you hear us? Are you there?."

'Holy shit, it is the hippie!'

"Stan?."

"Fatass?," another familiar voice chimed in.

"Aye! I Ain't fat you stupid jew!."

"Holy shit, Cartman dude!," Stan exclaimed a little too excited then he wanted to be. Cartman flinched by the intense noise in his ears, it was bothering him.

"Ow! Aye you damn hippie! Lower your voice will yah! My head hurts just hearing you guys!."

On the other side Kyle couldn't hold a smile. The other boys just laughed by being able to still annoy Cartman even being in a whole different life.

"So how's it going over there, Eric," Kenny asked.

"Yeah, you haven't lost ten thousand pounds over there by not eating junk food all day?," Kyle added, knowing well Cartman would answer back by the remark he leaned forward to the magic ball that was centered in the middle of the ouija.

"In the matter of fact, you dumb jew, I'm eating pretty well," The boy answered with puffed cheek and airs of superiority, "But things are going pretty well, it's boring as fuck though I was trying to find a way outta here," he then added. Not even questioning how they even managed to connect with him.

"And how's that going, Cartman?," Stan asked curiously. He really wanted to know if there was way.

Cartman took a few seconds to rehear his friend's question. He considered it a bit. After all, he was starting to find hell quite less boring now that he found his dad. He was not going to admit that to them though.

"Uh- well, I'm still on it. Not much luck though," he lied.

"Dammit Cartman, you fat fuck you really can't do shit with out us can you," Kyle then added, smirking slightly.

"Aye!."

The three boys started howling of laughter.

"Eric?."

Eric jolted in shock by the sudden voice behind him, reappearing to his vision. He reposition himself.

"Everything alright?," Jack answered a little concerned of his son behavior just now. He had just returned with some books at his hold while he witnessed Eric seemingly talking to himself.

It was nothing new to him that his son was mentally fucked up, so he has decided to shrug it off.

"Yeah, everything's alright."

'Who's that, fat boy?,' Stan asked.

"No one.." Cartman answered in a whisper.

"C'mon, Eric. Let's go to my place and discuss about your situation," Jack added with a nod gesturing to follow him.

Eric then pursued on following behind him.

[...]

"I guess we lost connection with Cartman," Kenny stated. As they no longer could hear their fat friend.

"How long will it take for us to be able to contact him again?," Kyle asked a little eager. He was finally being able to enjoy the presence of Cartman again, and honestly it was hard to admit he did miss it.

"Probably tomorrow," the blonde shrugged laying down on his bed, "maybe we should try asking the goths if they know how to bring a person back from the depths of hell."

"That sounds like a good idea," Stan chimed in.

The three were now determined on bringing Cartman back.

On the other side, Cartman found himself admiring his father's pent house. It had one of the most amazing views of hell. He stared at the window for a brief long period while seeing every store, house, streets, even the small from afar hell citizens.

And don't get him started on his gaming room! There was also a personal gym 'meh' who gives a damn about exercise. He continued looking through the home. Big kitchen, bathroom, room.

Wow, literal heaven.

There was a box full of condoms on one of the kitchen counters which his dad immediately hid when he found the boy inspecting the area.

He followed behind him with his arms cross on his back, he liked how much Eric was admiring his success with those big innocent looking eyes, though he knew deep inside that image, he was a little devil just like his mother. Both innocent looking yet easy to sugarcoat someone into giving them what they want, making them devilish.

He remembered venting with pride to his son Scott about being a Denver bronco and the games his won, all the attention he received because of it looking for praise from him, but received none but a small nod while he presided on listening to music. Maybe because he was a teen and no longer interested in hearing about their parents accomplishments and tales.

But Eric, oh small little Eric found everything he did amusing and exciting! He enjoyed that.

"Okay, uh.. Jack?," the boy spoke, uncertain what to call him.

"You can call me dad," The redhead added too quickly, he 'tsch' silently.

It went silent again. Jack figured it'll be a matter of time for things to settle down and fix on it's own.

Cartman had his mouth slightly agape staring at his father trying to pick on any slight hint of bluff in him. But found none. 'No one wanted to be his dad' no one dare tried to be.

Jack was starting to feel a little uncomfortable 'maybe it was too soon?' Before the boy spoke up.

"O-okay, dad," he said with a flat line as his mouth.

That word just felt so cursed coming out of his mouth.

Jack beamed.

[...]

A whole week has passed and the boys were no longer able to contact Cartman. Kyle began to worry if something must have happened to his idiotic friend while in search of an exit from hell.

They had failed miserably to summon Cartman back. Tried the various forms the goths have told them to do. But nothing worked. And now they had lost the only connection they had towards him, Cartman was just too much to bring back he supposed.

Stan had suggested that it may be because he was too fat to fit in any of the portals made. He found that funny cause it was most likely to happen.

He sigh.

The boys decided to just start looking for a new replacement. As they had already gripped on the idea on the other boy's return being less possible.

So here he was. Being the one chosen to pick the new Eric Cartman.

"So why again do I have to pick him?," he asked with a frown expression, having cupped his cheek with the palm of his hand.

"Because, the new Cartman has to be able to keep up with you," Stan stated the obvious.

Kyle raised a brow by that, "What's that supposed to mean?."

"It means, that if he were to be put in a stupid situation where he pissed you off enough to riled you up, then he must be able to budge through with it."

"Doubt it," He said bored. He wasn't interested in finding a new Cartman, he wanted his Cartman back. Their Cartman back.

"Okay, kid. You got the rules?," Stan questioned, eyeing a brunette chubby boy. His name was Tobias. The boy tilted his head not as sure.

"So.. I just can't fight back?," he asked displeased, wrinkling his nose. 'Kinda like cartman' Kyle thought.

"No. You fight back in a sketchy scheme to bite back at Kyle," Kenny explained balancing a pencil with his mouth, "you just let Kyle beat you up."

"But- that's not fair! How can I just let this dude just beat me up?."

Kyle was just standing next to him eyeing the boy. Already annoyed by this interaction. A good start he supposed.

"Dude, it's Kyle you just-" Stan gripped the bridge of his nose to calm himself down, "look, you be an ass, then Kyle beats you up for it. Get it? That's how their dynamic works."

Still not reassured by the answer the boy looked at Kyle in a stance for a fight.

Kyle then did a stance, about to prepare punching the kid. But before even giving him a throw, the boy flinched and cover himself up with his arms.

"Damn, what a pussy," Stan said.

"Ay! I ain't no pussy!," he shouted, his fist were clenched, and his cheeks were red with embarrassment, frowning his face.

"Go on," Kenny tune in, finally fully focusing on the boy, an eye brow raised.

"W-well.. you guys are a bunch of assholes! Fuck you guys!."

"Okay, okay," the blonde boy raised his hands, grinning from ear to ear, "and what am I?," he closed his eyes putting a hand in one of his ears waiting for the correct answer.

"A poor piece of shit!," the boy in question exclaimed, "you're a stupid hippie. That only -" he points at Stan. And continued bashing on all three of us.

Stan and Kenny were grinning widely while Kyle felt a little sting is his chest.

They found their Cartman.

[...]

Cartman on the other hand had been laying down on the living room couch, with a very thin blanket as the environment he was in was already quite warm. Atleast for what his father had explained to him. The weather is only based on just two season changes. Summer and 'winter'. Summer is burning hell, winter it's freezing hell as if it were wanting to snow in literal hell, but it never does. Ofcourse, they were in summer when he had arrived, and it'll be like that for the next eight months.

The TV was on and it was kinda late at night for what he supposed called 'hell hour'. Their night time.

His eyelids were half lifted, tired. He won't deny the first few days spending time with his dad we're great, with the exception of the crappy so called 'food' he made, it was just too.. let's say bland 'healthy'. Unlike his mom's amazing cooking nothing could compare. But he had adapted to it very quickly as Jack had promised him to go out for some yummy foods as a 'treat'. He supposed he could endure the torture for a couple more days as long as he was still able to play with all his video games.

But the more the clock ticks the more bored he gets, the more un-patience he gets. Jack also wasn't always home compared to his mother. He had work, and had explained to him this is how he owns such nice things and keeps things in check under 'their' rooftop. He was barely home, and not only that he'd come back with lady friends and takes them to bed with him, claiming they were there for business. What he's not aware of, is that he's already very familiar with the so called 'business' before. His mother has finally mellow down on it but this prick doesn't seem on ending it anytime soon as some college freshman.

He had guessed his former wife had ended up in heaven as she is no longer in the picture and the man never mentions her. Taking this as a opportunity to sleep around with as many women he could get, just like with his mother. He frown by the thought.

He sigh, as he knows better than to knock on the grown man's door. He knew he had taken a lady friend with him inside, he didn't even bother glancing at him before taking her inside. So he layyed there. In that silent room, all by himself hearing the TV noises slowly being blocked by his brain.

He missed south park.

He missed his friends, and his bitch of a mom.

He closed his eyes. And then he jolted back up.

'That's it!' He exclaimed to himself.

He went through all the pages of the books Jack had brought, claiming they could 'help' which he never bother bringing up again cause he was distracting Eric with other cool more interesting stuff than returning him back to South park. For Eric's surprise they were a bunch of cooking recipes 'nothing of actual use!', he frown angrily. 'That motherfucker!' Literally.

He quietly tip toe to another shelf and started going through each individual book but found nothing. He was getting desperate as he was wondering how could Jack keep that information from him when it was literally the whole reason he found him for.

Then, when he was about to give up a green book had ended up smacking his head 'ow!', it had fell from above the shelf. But there was something special about that book that made him peek inside. There was code written in the back part of the book. He wondered where to use it for but was immediately answered as he look at the front cover. It was the best hint.

He slowly open the front door to sneak out and successfully do so. He ran trough each hall way of that huge building and had entered the elevator tapping a button for the ground floor.

He waited patiently, and had entered the shallow hallway. The book was titled 'room fith'.

He open the room and for his luck, it was opened. Everything was empty, a plain green painted room. He stood there confused thinking in 'what' he had calculated wrong.

Before 'snap!' The ground open immediately letting him fall straight into some cushions. The fall didn't feel so deep. But the whole secrecy makes it all skeptical, as if there's something to hide.

He looked around the small room, it was adorned with many satanic symbols, candles, glasses with sand and there were plenty of papers spread in the floors like rituals. He examine each one and approach the table that had many finished and unfinished work. Building plans, maps from areas of hell he hasn't heard of. He figured this was all work of his father as he can recall his writing from the small notes he had left him in the counter before heading for work explaining how to use certain things of the kitchen and wishing him a 'have a nice hell day' before adding 'you're not allowed to go outside'. Kinda controlling not gonna lie.

He flipped through plans and saw many other rituals of summoning. Who knows, he may be able to summon Kyle here? He snorted of the thought of pissing his friend off by bringing him to hell.

But then stop his tracks when he looked under the table to find a small safe, his eyes widen at the revelation 'this is it! This is were he's supposed to add the code.'

"What're you doing there champ?."

He jolted scared turning into the opposite direction.

Jack was smirking slightly while having his arms cross.

"Guess you're enjoying the tour huh," he approached slowly stopping three steps away from Eric.

The boy gulped felling this huge uneasy felling between them, sweating uncontrollably. He felt small for the first time in his whole life, looking at the older man's eyes.

Before being knocked out.

[...]

He opened his eyes and felt his arms tied to a wooden surface unable to move, he notice once adjusting his vision that he was in fact tied up in a chair. He freaked out, this feels oddly familiar.

He then turned his gaze upwards looking straight ahead. Seeing his father sitting down in a couch from that same room, arms were cross around his chest, man spreading but his gaze was straight towards him. He gulped once more. 'He really looks like Scott right now'.

Jack immediately lightened up once he saw Eric awake, he then proceeded to speak.

"Oh, Eric you're awake!," he beamed, forcing a cheerful tone. He didn't want the boy to realize how disappointed he was for catching him trying to escape, "look, Eric, I'm not gonna hurt you," he tried justifying his actions while he stood up.

"You knock me out and tied me into a chair you crazy bitch!."

"BECAUSE someone decided to bash in a forbidden area," Jack defended, he disliked the naming but bit his tongue.

"Cause you lied to me of helping me get out! Those books you brought were all cooking recipes!."

"Well, yes, they will be of help once you're older, champ! I didn't lie," the red head continued explaining while searching through his drawer, "Eric I want you to know that I'm just doing this for the best for you."

The boy remained silent which gave Tenorman the opportunity to continue reasoning.

"I want you to be able to accomplish your goals, I want you to become successful and I want you to be able to follow my steps in hell."

"What? Fuck that! I don't want to be a business man!."

"Eric, I see so much potential in you and have no plans on letting you waste it like your brother."

Eric froze by the mentioned of Scott.

"Unless you'd prefer ending up living in a old dusty hotdog like your mother lead you too?," Jack said with a blank face showing a couple of prints that had many, and I meant many incidents involving Cartman, "When you first approached me, that same night I made a huge search and found so much information on you, Eric, so, so much. You're quite a special boy," he added with a little hum.

"Scott has lost all his marbles, and as hard it is to admit it. I don't see him giving a good name for the Tenormans."

"Fuck the Tenormans! I'm no Tenorman!."

"But you are, Eric," there was a glint of greed in those eyes, something that made Eric's skin scrawled, "in fact, you're more of a Tenorman than a Cartman," he took out a scrapbook from the left side of his drawer.

He flipped through it and stopped in one, deciding to show the boy what was in it.

It was a old newspaper with a young man, probably in his mid-thirties he had ginger looking features but it looked like him, a way older version of him. He had a smirk on while being dragged by cops in the picture, his features resemble pure chaotic vibes. You just knew by seeing a glance of this man, he was trouble.

The article had titled 'psycho man rigged presidential election'. Eric gulped again.

"That's your great grandfather," he then picked up another of his prints, "you know who also tried rigging a presidential election?," Jack added smirking while showing a picture of Cartman and the head of Disney along of millions of election votes.

He then showed him another article, he so called great grandfather was standing next to three other boys picking on one in peculiar, he supposed a friend. He seemed jewish as he had a star of david necklace on him. This article had nothing too chaotic on it, they just use those four teens as an example of 'what not to be'.

Then his dad showed him a picture of his three friends and himself. One where he was in fact, taunting his jewish friend.

He sigh.

"Okay? That means nothing! I want to get back home!."

"That's the thing, Eric, you're not," Jack said, calming placing delicately the scrap on top of the drawer, "I'm protecting you, by the evil of yourself, the evil of your great grandfather's soul on you and the evil of your mother's influence," he pointed, sitting back down comfortably in the couch.

"I'll actually put of good use of your skill and potentials, someone like you Eric should always waste their potential in something actually beneficial than to just fuck around with," Jack lit up a cigar while he continued his rant, "that's what your great grandfather did wrong, and that's what you're doing wrong. Putting your motives and desires into unbeneficial things, un important things. And for what? Just for a three second laugh before being dragged away to jail or to a 'pyscho ward'?," he denied with his head looking at his expensive shoes, smiling after emphasizing his last sentence.

"You mother fucker.." Eric murmured finally realized what the ginger meant, Jack smirked in understanding, "Scott.. he didn't just go crazy because of what I did, he was already going crazy before I enter his life I just pushed him forward to actually snap!," the boy exclaimed scared.

"Ding ding ding!," Jack nodded happily, "see, you're very smart."

Cartman really wanted to go, run away and hide himself under the warm covers of his bed, under his mother's care far away from this crazy bitch!

Jack had left claiming he'd get him some food.

There he was just sitting there afraid, he really prayed for a miracle, just one more miracle in literal hell!

He closed his eyes tight trying to imagine himself being just trapped in a really bad nightmare.

The boy found the switch in personalities amusing, as it were so sudden and unexpected. In a blink of an eye the man that was seen as a caring cool father turned into a crazy psychotic lunatic! He really started missing his mom.

He felt himself uncomfortable felling the ropes being sunken in his flesh, hurting him and he felt having cramps in his calves, it hurted like hell and he couldn't do anything about it. He began crying outta desperation.

Then, he felt a buzz in his ears once more 'guys?'

His eyes lit up.

"Is there someone there?," he asked sniffing his snot back inside as it was running down his mouth.

"Cartman?."

"Kyle?," the brunette boy smile, 'there was still hope after all!'

"Kahl! You gotta help me! Kahl!," the boy cried with no shame. It isn't unusual for him to seek help from his ginger friend when he had fucked up and needed help solving it, "I can't! I'm all tied up and I-I-! Bwaaahh!!!," he cried louder.

"Okay, Cartman calm down!," his friend responded, "what happened? Is everything okay?."

"No! Nothings okay you stupid fuck!," the chubby boy eyes were all puffed up and red, while he felt his throat dry up, "this fucker lied to me! He lieeed!"

"Who lied to you?," he didn't hear Kyle ask as he cut him off continuing explaining his current situation.

"I need help! I'm tied up in 'jak n off' hotel in room five the ground floor! I'm at the bottom!," He cried once again, between breaths he hold back tears, he was freaking out. He was scared, and he was alone.

Then snapped back nervously when he heard a door open from behind him.

"Hey, Eric. I got you some grilled cheese sandwiches in hopes for you to cheer up a bit, my little future super star," said Jack beaming mimicking his mother's tone, it had sent shivers down the boy's spine, "I don't want you gaining too much weight though, or you'll be seen as a piggy for the rest of your life. And no one, likes, pigs."

"Cartman? Are you still there? Cartman!?," he heard his friend's voice.

He remained silent not trying to reveal his last only solution outta this mess, blocking also Tenorman's hurtful words.

"Why Eric! Look at you, you look like a mess," Jack put the sandwiches aside while running to his drawer and taking out a box of tissues and wipes. He then approached the boy and started wiping his face. Cleaning all remaining leftover tears and the snot that had started to dry up in his mouth.

[...]

"Dude, how the hell are we gonna go find Cartman if he's in hell," Stan exclaimed confused about his best friend's claims.

"The only solution is one of us dying," Kyle said with a frown, determinant on finding cartman.

"Dude!?," the latter responded with a brow raised and his arms raised in 'wtf', "dude I don't want to die! There's so much I want to do" looking at the ground thinking about the thousands of board games he hasn't played yet.

"Yeah, me neither!," exclaimed, Tobias.

Kenny remained silent staring at the red head.

"No one has to die, but me," Kyle spoke, he lowered his gaze. He knew it was risky, "I'm offering myself to do it," but it was worth the shot.

"Kyle that's the most crazy shit I've ever heard you say!."

"It's the only way! Nothing else has worked!."

"No, I'll do it."

The three boys turned their head towards Kenny. He had a frown and he seemed to not fear losing anything. Cause he wouldn't.

Kenny had already tried getting back into hell, dying various times to see if he could find Cartman but for some reason he hasn't been able to get a hold of the underground world. Waking back to life the next day. As in some sorta temporary limbo.

"That's okay, Kenny," Kyle reassured with a smile," I know you have your siblings to care of.. and well, I know Ike would have my mom and dad to take care of him, just in case I don't come back."

"Kyle, I'll do it. Eric is my best friend after all," Kyle's words was heartwarming but he wasn't gonna risk losing another friend.

Kyle frown reconsidering it. He then proceeded to nod.

They had left the Marsh residence as they wanted to be as far as possible from any witnesses, they went inside the weed 'garden'.

They found a solid ground far away from the farm. Atleast enough for a bullet to not be able to hear from a distance.

They got into a circle and Kenny stood in middle of the three.

He took the gun out, and pulled the trigger with not even a second thought. But there was nothing, just a small click everytime he pulled the trigger.

"What the fuck?," the blond asked confused looking up at Kyle.

"Sorry, Kenny I couldn't let you do that," his friend stated before pulling out a gun out of his jacket and pointed at his head 'that crazy son of a bitch' Kenny thought eyes wide open in panic, "here goes nothing," 'BANG' was all he heard before hearing the other two boys scream.

"Kyle no!," Stan shouted with his hands gripped into his head staring at his now dead friend, his face covered in Kyle's blood, "Jesus christ!!."

"Holy fuck," the brunette boy said horrified, "you guys are crazy! I no longer want to be part of this stupid group!," he screamed horrified before dashing away no longer looking back.

[...]

"¡AHHH!," Kyle found himself screaming while falling straight into what it seems to be lava. He looked upwards meeting with a pair of people staring at him. Is he really in hell right now? Fuck, he needed to start behaving once he's back in south park. He got up and managed to get out of the pit with ease.

He looked around, people forming circles partying here and there. There was lights everywhere even though it was pretty much lit already. Stores, buildings even food stands. 'No wonder that fat fuck didn't complain about being hungry' he thought to himself. Hell didn't seem bad at all! Well with the exception of the public torture displayed in front of him, he didn't seemed to mind it as much as he felt he should. What the literal hell?

He went to what appeared to be a big wooden cartel for new hell residents with the instructions on how to get back in their feet and their new purposes and do's, 'fuck that', he went where there was a map with all the locations needed to know. Also, pamphlets. He picked one and opened it. He recall Cartman mentioning a hotel called 'jak n off' and pursued following the directions given.

He then stood in front of a yellow building.

Okay, first instruction checked. Now, room fifth of the ground floor. But he stopped before doing any further action. He recalled his friend claiming there was someone with him 'what if they're still there?' He thought before considering a different approach.

Meanwhile...

"Holy shit, Kenny! What do we do!?," Stan said in panic, gesturing the other boy's dead body.

"Okay, Stan. Just listen carefully," the blonde had his right hand as a 'stop' gesturing to calm down.

He saw his friend breathing heavily, closing his eyes trying to regulate his heartbeat and breathing.

'he's just a crazy as Cartman!' That realization made the boy's eyes widen, "Holy shit," He spoke, now gripping into Kenny shoulders while the other boy flinched by the sudden action, "that was just as crazy level as Cartman!," he exclaimed his concerns.

Kenny loosen up from the grip before picking Kyle's body from head to shoulder. He gesture with his head for the other boy to help him with the other half.

Stan hesitated a bit but followed through.

"Fuck."

[...]

"Hmhm hmm!," Jack nodded repeatedly when he had finished re-dressing his off spring. He had bought him a little business suite the other day but had found this time appropriate to give.

The boy had refused and complained when the man attempted to take his clothes off but then failed immediately from his strength. 'Something beneficial from being a Denver bronco' he thought. He proceeded to submit.

Once back tied in the chair, his father turned him around being front of a large mirror.

'Ofcourse he was handsome' but he did not like being force to do things against his own will.

"Eric Tenorman," the man spoke with pride, "doesn't that just sound right?."

Eric gulped. He hated that name.

"Look at you, looking like a professional business man already!," he beamed again, "I'll be right back I'm gonna go fetch some wine."

"When are you planning to untie me!?," the boy wince when he saw a spider slowly going down on him.

A laugh as it were a joke was made, "oh, Eric," he then walked out.

None long after he had heard a loud 'thump' from behind him, he looked instead in the mirror and his eyes widen of excitement.

"Kahal!"

"Cartman?," the boy asked while standing up, he had fallen down from the cushions, ass straight to the ground, "Holy shit, dude! You alright?," he asked approaching him, he proceeded to untie the boy.

Kyle looked around a bit and proceeded to look at the boy that was stretching his back. He heard some cracking and popping.

'He looked like shit'

"We have to get outta here!," Cartman said before dragging Kyle from hand to hand outta the dark room. He was grateful he manage to see how his father summoned a door. But he stopped returning to the safe and grabbing the book and papers that were in there, once again gripping onto Kyle's hands dragging him out.

Once they were safe. They had ran out of the building, running towards the entrance of hell through the amount of new people that had arrived, and found themselves hidden behind 'Sussie's Buttocks' club.

Cartman sigh and Kyle just watched him with a frown brow.

With out further warning Cartman hugged the boy tight leaving Kyle speechless tensing his shoulders and his hands were up in the air unable to figure out if to correspond or just let the boy finish. He decided the second option.

"Thank you, Kyle! You came! I can't believe it!."

The boy loosen up the tension he had felt on his shoulders and just kept silent, letting his arch rival embrace him with his warmth. He could feel Cartman's rapid heart beat.

"Just so you know, I'm just here cause I couldn't stand your replacement," he said finally getting out of the boy's grip.

"Ay! You guys replace me already!?," Cartman protested angry while pouting.

The ginger smirked. With out realizing he felt himself hugging the boy tight. 'Fuck, he actually missed him', he buried his head under Cartman's shoulders as he felt him tense.

Kyle then let go, gazing at Cartman who had his eyes widen and the most heated red cheeks, mouth agape 'he looked gay' he thought. The boy then proceeded to lean towards him causing Cartman to panic as he weakly slapped him backwards snapping him out to his senses.

"Okay so who are we hiding from?," the red head spoke while he dust off the dirt on his jacket.

"Jack Tenorman."

Kyle's attention back to Cartman, in shock, "your dad?."

He nodded before vomiting. Everthing was all so overwhelming. Everthing his father revealed, his great grandfather and how home sick he felt, how much he missed his friends and mom. His insides twisted as he felt shivers all over him.

He made sure to point at Kyle's seamlessly new shoes though

"Ow gross, dude!."

[...]

Kenny found himself desperately wanting to go to hell but no matter how much he tried, he just couldn't. As if there were something blocking him by going.

He sigh, legs crossed next to Kyle's rotten body, flies piling up around him. He and Stan had hid themselves in Randy's shed. They weren't certain if to burry him or not so they toss him in there while both took turns checking outside for any future witnesses which they failed miserably because Stan's dad had went for a quick smoke hidding from Sharon, and looked at them, glancing at both boys before looking at Kyle 'ohhh' he murmured, both brows were raised before closing the door slowly, leaving.

Kenny then took out the ouija board and place it in the ground. Might aswell try to contact Kyle.

"Any luck?," Stan asked wincing from the smell that was coming out of his best friend.

"No," Kenny tried cutting some more blood out of his wrist, carefully not making the wound any deeper. They needed a living mortal's blood to be able to contact the dead.

"Do you think he went to heaven?."

"Nah, man. You really think one of us will end up there after the amount of shit we've down?," he had went to heaven before but it was a one time thing, after he started simply caring less about his deaths he became bolder and is no longer admitted into heaven.

Besides he recalled Kyle unintentionally killing a bunch of Canadians that was enough reason to be sent to hell.

"Good point."

Cartman and Kyle found themselves looking through rituals and plans, they inspected the book while Kyle flipped through pages then stopped pointing at one.

"Here 'lay the one and only chosen one for the path to open, a bright light as blindfold being turned to one'," then continued reading the next paragraph, " 'the second gripped to life, will become sacrifice to give light as they are two'."

"What's that supposed to mean?."

"As they are two.." Kyle reread trying to add sense to what was written, brows knitted together, "that's it," He said looking at the drawings of two men one represented death, the other life. While life was seen switching places with death.

He flipped through the rest of the pages reading new paragraphs and prophecies.

'Misplace the two bounded souls and fear it's wrath between worlds, as they are one'

'Life and death which are shown to be bounded by a soul'

'Death is life, life is death, a curse forming in between them as the new bounded soul is created'

He flipped through the next page and eyes widen. It was a drawing of Kenny and Cartman. 'Holy shit'

"Did you find anything?," Cartman asked while laying down on his stomach, making paper airplanes with the loose pages that were spread on the floor as he had gotten bored.

"Well, there you are my special little boy."

Both boys gasped turning around while they got up, Kyle having gripped the book on his chest. He walked backwards placing an arm on Cartman backing away slowly shielding him

'Cartman was our way out' he told himself, justifying his actions as if it were the first time he found himself protecting the fat fuck. Which it wasn't.

Jack stood there with his arms crossed behind his back, grinning eyeing the book then looking back at Kyle.

"I see you brought a friend to play, Eric," he took a pistol out from the inside of his suite pocket.

Both dashed outta there running through the multiple people that were all formed in circles. Hearing Tenorman shout from a far 'Ay! come back here!'

'Like father like son'.

Kyle panted hardly while trying to grasp some air, Cartman was knocked out cold on the floor. Hopefully they were far enough from Tenorman.

A buzzing feeling in his ear caught his attention, he held it because of the intense pain it did as if that were gonna stop it. Blood trailing down his cheek he looked at the hand he had held himself with 'my ear is bleeding'.

"Kyle?," the boy in question jolted.

"Kenny!?"

"Dude finally! We were worried sick for you!."

"Is he there? Kyle? Are you there!? You crazy piece of shit! Jesus christ!," Stan chimed in," are you alright? Did you find Cartman?."

"Yeah, he's right here," he looked at the boy that was now trying to stand up. He offered a hand while the boy reached out and was pull up to his feet again. He looked tired, uncharacteristically tired. It gave Kyle an uneasy feeling as he remembered what he had read 'Misplace the two bounded souls and fear it's wrath between worlds, as they are one' he assumed Cartman may be 'life'.

"Okay cool, have you guys find a way out?."

"Is that the hippie?," Cartman asked finally paying attention to the buzzy feeling of his own ears.

"Yeah.." Kyle whispered more to himself than to anyone else, "Kenny?"

"Yeah? I'm here dude."

"Look this is gonna sound crazy but,"

'Bang'

"¡AAH!," Kyle looked at Cartman who had screamed in horror, then looked at his now wounded chest half lifted eyes before feeling his legs weakened.

'Fuck' was the only thing that came out before knocking out on the floor.

'Kyle!?'

'Kyle!?'

'Kyle!'

The boy slowly felt himself waking up by the sound of Stan's voice rumbling in his ears. He grunted, feeling sharp pains in his chest were he was previously shot, but managed to stand up.

He looked at his hands an feet, then his chest. It seemed to have healed as if it never happened 'had he dreamt it?' He looked around and found himself in the entrance of hell once more. Cartman was no longer at sight.

"Fuck," he frown 'this was being dragged too much', "Kenny, are you there?."

"Yeah man, what happened? We lost you for like an hour!."

"An hour? Holy shit.. okay, Kenny. I'm not crazy but I think you're 'death'."

"What."

"Yeah. I have a satanic looking book on me that has you drawn in here stating that you're bound into a soul."

"W-what?.."

"Yeah.. as crazy as it sounds but you're bonded. Not only are you bounded but to Cartman of all people."

"What!?," he heard both friends shout in unison.

"Look I don't know much for sure, but that's what I've gotten from what's written here. It says we need both of you to be able to get out."

"But how? I'm not allowed in hell."

"What?," he found himself confused by that comment but shrugged it off, "look 'the chosen soul must be into one of understanding to open a door through life and death' i- I honestly got lost by that point," Kyle admitted nodding to himself.

" 'The chosen soul must be into one of understanding to open a door through life and death..'," Kenny found himself repeating the words. He frowned.

Cartman and him were bounded.. but how? But why? Life and death. If he was death that makes Cartman life. Which having him in the underworld makes it not possible to be 'life'.

Death.. death is life. Which would makes sense if he were to die and revive.

Would that mean switching places with Cartman? As he found himself in life and he in death. All this is messing up his mind.

Would that mean what's been blocking him from both heaven and hell and keeping him in a sorta limbo state is because he's slowly becoming life? And Cartman..

'fuck'

"Kenny?," Stan's voice snapped him back.

"We need to find a way to bring Cartman back and quick!."

The chubby boy felt his body weakened while he was carried by his father. He had taken him to the rooftop of the building he owned while gripping tight with steel chains his wrists and legs into some torture table he had put there.

Half lifted eyes stared to the ground. He felt like shit.

His father stood there with clasped hands eyeing him everywhere as he was some golden trophy, as he were just waiting for something. But he couldn't grasp what it was.

"Did I ever mentioned you that Liane was part of a cult?," spoke Jack.

Cartman just kept silent as he began coughing badly.

The grown man walked towards him taking out a tissue from his pocket cleaning some of the trail blood he had cough out 'the fuck!?'

"When I first met your mother it wasn't at some stupid party your town folks had told you about. I met her in a cult meeting. I was young and was told they will be free booze," He reveal while fixing the boys now untied tie, "we felt attraction immediately and bonded over the fact that we were both there for booze, laugh it off and things just lead to an other," continued while shrugging.

Cartman found himself feeling his muscles spasm.

"I'm the good guy Eric! I would've never asked for this to have happen to you if I knew," he then place his hand onto his chest as an innocent demeanor, "your mother is to blame."

"The thing is, unlike me, Liane ended up getting too into the cult meeting and had unintentionally set herself up with two other soon to be parents, she had dragged me in, unaware of what would happened. She found it silly and fun and I found it a little creepy but followed through cause I was just too wasted to care about the odd rituals the other members were putting us in 'everthing for a piece of that' I kept telling myself."

The boy cut him off he began to have various seizures that lasted for up to three seconds before repeating itself, he felt his mouth grasping for air and being choked by his own saliva. His fingers twitched and his feet curled.

"And then, months after, you were born," unfazed the man wiped the saliva off his cheeks, "ofcourse by the time you were born I had no longer any contact with Liane and that so called meeting became a fuzzy memory for me."

"But, Eric," he approached the boy, face to face, "this, it's life changing," the boy heard while still trying to grasp for air, his vision long gone as it became blurry.

"Imagine, a Tenorman being able to switch in between worlds! Being able to use this curse and becoming one of the most powerful beings on both worlds," He ranted for himself, with every word being said his eyes dilated. Malicious, greed, selfishness surfacing, "not being able to die! HaHA! We'd be unstoppable!."

'Bang'

Tenorman fell into the floor.

Kyle then reloaded his shotgun while two other boys stood next to him.

"Stan help me with Cartman!," Kenny order running towards the almost unconscious boy. Stan nodded following.

They had manage to summon Satan while being in the upper world. Luckily Satan owed Stan a favor and it was just all convenient.

They managed to release Cartman by pressing a button that was place under the table with the label 'release' on it.

Kenny held the boy who convulsions worsened.

"Eric can you hear me?."

"K-kinny? Dammit kinny! Get out my death sequence," the boy complained even though his eyes looked elsewhere.

"You're not gonna die fat boy! You're already in hell."

"Oh, right," His body stiffened trying his best to take control but failed miserably once more, "how's it going?."

The comment made the blonde boy cracked a smile, "look Eric," he gently caress cartman's hair.

'That's gay' he heard the boy remark but ignored it.

"It'll be hard to believe this.. but I die," Kenny revealed, "like all the time," he sigh, feeling the glances of his other two friends on him.

"I know."

Kenny's eyes widen, "no, like I mean it, I die all the time!."

"I know," his chubby friend frown feeling stupid by hearing his best friend seemingly finding it hard for him to remember the obvious. And because of the condition he's in 'duh' he didn't feel like arguing, "I can tell you death by death, each and single one with detail and date."

Kenny was left with his mouth opened, speechless, he couldn't believe it. 'Is he really telling the truth or is he fucking with me?' All this time he's been looking for someone atleast one person that could remember. And he was there all along infront of him, someone he least expected.

"And you didn't bother on telling me!?," Kenny said angry, he felt his eyes water.

Cartman twitch in his arms, "nobody seemed to mentioned anything, and you never asked. I figured it may have been a bad dream or not as important cause nobody seem to believe me the few times I did mention it, they all looked at me weird as it I we're delusional," the boy admitted.

Now that he thought about it. The times he has admitted to someone about his curse, Cartman was never present. Which meant he had never given the opportunity to answer him. And when he mentioned it he was either dead or not around to tell.

Like if it were intentional for both boys to not be able to share this moment until now.

"You know what's messed up?," cartman's voice snapped him back, he had a weak smile plastered, "I began to be so use to it, it was easy to use your deaths. Like the time you were in the death bed or the time I had convinced everyone it would be best to disconnect you to have your psp, or being able to better my vision stealing one of your eyes, I knew you'd come back, you always did."

Kenny's eyes sparked in amusement 'he really did remember'.

"But the first few times.. kinny they were horrifying, I still feel uneasy but it isn't as before," his body twitch some more while he complained about the pain in his arms and legs, "I remember the rats eating your flesh, I remember trying to shoo them away cause you still weren't dead."

Kenny watched his friend with such warmth as if it were a cute tale he was retelling.

"The time Kyle killed you with a chainsaw," 'I what?' They heard their ginger friend asked confused but ignored it, "being killed by a bull, eaten by some pterodactyl, by oral sex, squished, run over," the boy shaked, the pain decreasing the more closer he got to kenny. On the other hand kenny was feeling immense warmth in his chest, like literal fire. 'Hell, It's really burning!'

Kenny remembered always being close in a certain way with Cartman, they even were once trapped together by his soul because the stupid idiot had eaten his ashes.

He glance down at Cartman who had let his head fall into his lap, smiling. 'This was kinda gay' he thought.

He felt the boy latching on to him, and he won't deny he felt the sudden urge to do the same which he unintentionally did. The burning sensation in his chest increased the pain, becoming unbearable 'fuuuuuck!'

On the other hand Cartman never felt more peaceful in Kenny's arms, he felt like he was in the clouds and couldn't recall why the sensation just felt like he was falling but there was no fear of an impact just comfort with in the clouds and sky.

Stan and Kyle didn't bare interrupt the two boys as they knew it was needed to get out and Kenny knew how to do it but they couldn't help feeling a little discomfort as this felt intimate and private. Atleast for Stan it wasn't displeasing just disturbing while with Kyle it was the opposite. He found the boys sudden closeness displeasing he just didn't know why.

Sudden the back door sling open reveling Jack. Kyle prepared his gun and pointed at him making him stop in his tracks.

"You guys don't know what're you're doing! Fuck, ¡no!," He exclaimed once he saw Kenny holding on to Cartman and vice-versa. He knew there was no longer takes back as their ritual bound was already in the stages of ending.

The two boys burst into flames seemingly showing no response to it. Atleast from Cartman's part, internally for Kenny it was a pain in the ass but he didn't show it. Sweat begin to pop up in his skin and his nails digged up in Cartman's suit, wincing his eyes shut.

Their silloette formed a door which proceeded to opened.

"Dude! I think it's the portal!," Stan exclaimed getting near it, while Kyle shot Tenorman in the head once more before following Stan. Not after glancing at Kenny and Cartman before jumping through the portal.

Cartman then layyed down flat finally letting go of Kenny. The blonde watched him while he started twisting in pain 'this is it' he then looked at Cartman, suddenly understanding before proceeding to enter the portal, finally vanishing.

Kenny sigh as he turned into ashes finally dying.

[...]

"Morning dudes," Kenny salute, beaming. He was in a good mood after all.

"Sup Kenny," Stan greeted.

"Hey Kenny," Kyle added.

"Cartman hasn't arrived yet?."

"That fat fuck probably forgot to turn his alarm on," the red head spoke with a yawn.

"Or, he did set an alarm but ignored it," Stan added.

"Either sound possible."

Not long after Cartman got on the bus greeting them.

"Hey dipshits!," he proceeded to take a seat next to Kenny who grinned at him, "so how you guys dealing after the hell incident?," he asked.

Stan and Kyle just raised a brow confused.

"What're you talking about, fatass?," Kyle then added while frowning not wanting to deal with Cartman's shit again this early in the morning.

"Yeah, dude, you alright?," Stan chimed in.

Kenny stared at Cartman still beaming while he saw the bigger boy's face turned in disbelief.

"Dude! I literally died a horrible death not long ago! Remember? Hell!? Kyle you literally went to save me!," he screamed.

"Did he also came in a shining armor?," Stan teased while both best friends, then, howl in laughter.

Cartman pouted bitterly. Kenny put a hand on his shoulder understanding well enough the feeling. The boy glance at him.

"Welcome to the club," he smiled.

Cartman looked up at the two boys infront of him that still found themselves laughing then looked at Kenny, smiling back.

"This sucks ass."

They both chuckled.

[...]

Kyle found himself approaching Cartman while they were entering the school entrance.

"Hey, fatass."

"What up," the fat boy answered while he took out his phone.

"About me saving you did I also bring a sword?," he bite his upper lip before bursting into laughter.

"Ha ha very funny Kahal," the boy said bitterly, "actually not only did you showed up in a shining armor, a sword, but you also kissed me on the lips as I was the damsel in distress." honestly was not the best combat but it was the first thing that came into spot. He wasn't planning to let Kyle have the last word after feeling still bitter about the red head not recalling the previous events.

Kyle was left baffled by that. For some reason Cartman's stupidity was beyond compression but the mystical accusation left him speechless.

Cartman had already proceeded on leaving to class but Kyle just stood there blank hearing a small noise in his ears that kinda sounded like 'hootie and the blowfish'.

In class Kenny had both his hands clenched, excited. He never felt more happy knowing someone does remember! Not only that, but the bound ritual just made their bound strengthen, as he watched Cartman knowing the other boy felt the same. He knew the feelings were true cause he felt it, they both felt each other when their soul united once more 'as gay as that sounds'. Cartman looked back at him sharing that same beaming felling before returning to bother Wendy interrupting her speech with slurs an unwanted opinions.

He always felt alone knowing no one remember him dying, an as much as he had his moments despising Cartman there was now this warmth comforting feeling that someone other than him knew, even if it were a bigot like Cartman. It's not like he could complain much after all, they will be forever bounded by a soul so there's no preventing being connected to one an other.

But he'd care less, he wasn't alone no more.

He smiled once again, he's been feeling all giggly all morning, he just couldn't help it. He was happy and today was just a nice super fantastic day.

School had ended as the bell rang.

The four boys walked with each other discussing what they'll do this evening as a squad.

"What about boar-"

"Stan, I swear to God if you say 'board games' once more I'll kill myself," Cartman interrupted by grunting.

Stan frowned.

"No offense dude, but Cartman's right. We've been playing boards games three times in a row for weeks," Kyle chimed in.

Kenny nodded. He knew Stan had developed a new obsession with board games when he moved to the farm and starting hanging out with Tolkien, which we didn't seem to mind much, but it had gotten boring being repeated multiple times everytime they hang out.

"What about cards?," the blonde suggested.

"Same shit," Cartman rolled his eyes with that.

Is that 'hootie and the blowfish' they began hearing in the background?

"Does anyone hear that?," Stan asked looking around.

"No," Kyle quickly stated.

"Anyways, what about basketball?," Cartman suggested while putting his attention on the others, his hands gripped on to his waist.

"You know what? That doesn't sound like a bad idea Cartman," Stan agreed while turning his focus onto Kyle who seemed kinda spaced out.

"Hm?," the boy said before barfing on Cartman.

'BLEEEEARGH!'

"Ah! Gross dude! Wtf Kahl!?," he wince disgusted wiping off the barf from his jacket, "disgusting!," he kept complaining.

"Sorry!."

"Woah dude," Stan exclaimed.

"I think breakfast didn't do me too well," the boy explained while rubbing his stomach, nauseous.

"Fuck you! You're so fucking disgusting!," Cartman kept rambling angry while walking off, seemingly going home, "ew! Screw you guys I'm going home."

"Sorry, Cartman!," Kyle apologized once more before returning his attention to the others, "so is basketball still on the list?."

"Hell yeah."

Cartman not long after joined the other three with a new jacket staying farther away from Kyle claiming that he didn't want the ginger to barf on him again which the boy rolled his eyes from and Stan calling him out a 'pussy' while continuing playing the game.

It was a nice evening with the four boys peacefully enjoying their company as everthing had turned back to normal.

[handern]

so fucking pissed and I don't know who to turn to about it and idk how to make it go away

colleagues are absolutely incompetent and keep squirming around like inefficient assholes

one of them wasn't there for all of July and at a meeting when out boss asked how the workload was in july was she was like 'oh it's so invigorating when there's lots of people isn't it!' I want her dead so bad she takes full hours of breaks and disappears as soon as we need help

she's supposed to be in charge of something with a guy who never does ANYTHING and that man dared to complain that something went wrong w what they're in charge of while she was gone for a month like SIR YOU LET THAT THING ROT OF COURSE IT WENT WRONG and I'm double pissed about it bc it didn't go as wrong as it should have bc I was preventing it from falling apart completely but neither of them acknowledged it at all calling us all lazy and useless in the meeting like die die die die die

another one keeps gossiping like hell under the guise of being soooo nice and polite and cute and empathetic and friendly, she just learned something super personal about someone else and immediately repeated it to me making it about herself I want her dead so bad she keeps going to people telling them "did you know X said so and so about you" like girl this isn't a fucking playground we're colleagues we're not friends we're allowed to not go along and complain

and now I hear the rumor is that someone else than me might be "first choice" to get a long term contract w this place and it's making my blood boil not bc he wouldn't deserve it but bc I know it's only a rumor and I'm supposed to be the first choice so it either means our supervisors are lying to me or that nobody in this fucking place realizes that I work well and that I'm over qualified for this shit which, genuinely, I'm fed up of being overlooked by my colleagues

but the worst of the worst is still completing ten whole missions and being told that the guy who completed one whole mission since February and had to have it done by 4 different people bc he wasn't able to write down one letter and one number on some cards on his own, is n°2 on the list

which isn't true either but SMH everyone falls for his act of being overworked and super efficient and he's getting rewarded by our superiors who KNOW he doesn't fo shit, they're going to pay him like 30 hours of overtime he CAN'T justify since he had only one mission to do and missed his FOURTH deadline for the completion of it

and that's only scratching the surface of the bullshit happening here

and I GUESS it's on me for working too hard, which, by the way, I don't, I'm exactly at my personal limit between "overworked" and "so underworked my brain is eating itself" but the thing is, I had SOME hope that people would at least notice that I work well instead of praising these jackasses out there like MAYBE it's on me for being a naive idiot and wanting at least recognition for my fucking work

if it wasn't for the promise of a long term contract I would let them all rot and explode this place too

[nightcrawlerzincorporated]

Yo sorry to bother you about this but I’m genuinely kind of annoyed right now. I know "Rob can't act" is like a joke among the fandom but it actually kind of harmed my experience of watching Sunny. Maybe it's my fault for listening to random people's opinions but when I first joined Sunnyblr a year ago a lot of bigger blogs were really fond of pushing that narrative (I think bc a lot of people just really don't like him). It's just disappointing to see how the access point into this space includes a lot of people telling you that Rob can't act and you're an idiot if you like him or his work and it completely warped my perception of Sunny as a show and Mac as a character. I learned not to trust Rob and his choices when playing Mac and now I am very pissed off that I spent all that time not taking him as seriously. I think I've managed to filter out the unnecessary Rob hatred because I haven't seen it in a while but I didn't realize how ingrained it was in my head until the Liberty Bell podcast episode when they were talking about Rob's incredible performance, and then I watched Mythic Quest and that show changed my entire life. I don't mean to make a whole big deal out of what is mostly a joke in the fandom but like...it heavily affected my very first watch of Sunny and I am. so irritated

I actually have so many thoughts about this.

So the way I see it, a combination of several things happened all in conjunction with each other: Rob always calls himself the worst actor of the three, which to me just reads as him being insecure, but him saying that makes the idea stick in people's heads and makes them look for reasons he's a bad actor. Our brains are giant pattern machines, so when the brain gets new information like "I'm the worst actor" it looks for ways to process the new information, which means your brain is going, "hey, be on the look out for this guy being a bad actor" in a way it isn't doing for the other actors. I mean maybe this is definitely projecting, but it reminds me of when I first started writing "professionally" (I freelance) and I would worry that my work wasn't good, so I would tell clients "I know it's not that good", "I know someone else could've done better", "I know this part doesn't make sense", etc and it would just make them have no confidence in me and so they would agree and complain about my writing! But then my therapist told me to stop doing that, that it's not actually more honest or more humble or whatever to self-deprecate, and once I stopped saying that stuff I got way more compliments and way fewer complaints AND way more recommendations and way more clients as a result. Things I thought were "obvious flaws" it turns out people only noticed when I pointed to it and said "this is a flaw!". So I think there's some of that happening.

Another factor is that a lot of people didn't like how Mac was written in season 13. But instead of saying, "the writing team collectively decided to write Mac in a way we don't like this season", a lot of people placed the sole blame on Rob as the actor who portrays him. And I think part of that is that a lot of people were waiting a long time for Mac to come out (I wasn't a part of the tumblr fandom back then but I was a fan of the show and I. For real thought he was just never gonna come out lol I remember Glenn specifically really wanted Mac to stay in the closet because he thought it was funnier so I was like ok. Guess this character is just in the closet forever. Hero or Hate Crime? I remember watching as it aired and genuinely being so shocked Mac didn't go back in the closet at the end, especially after Goes to Hell which I also watched live and was convinced was the ultimate proof it was never gonna happen lol) and so they had a lot of expectations of how Mac would or wouldn't change after coming out because there had been so many years of build up and will-he-wont-he about the whole thing. Hell, I wasn’t really in the fandom like I said but I’m sure just like today there were people who specifically started watching after season 12 because they heard there was an out gay character. And then season 13 aired and every single character (probably because of the changes to long term writing staff) felt kind of… off. That’s the main criticism of season 13 I hear to this day, that all the characters feel wrong in it or feel like they just exist to parrot various political movements first and be character’s second. That’s not a Mac exclusive problem. BUT because Mac had the most obvious and easy to understand change (being openly gay) a lot of people latched onto that as “what made the season bad”, and latched onto Rob for “ruining the character”. Yes, both the people who complained he was “too gay” AND the people who complained he “wasn’t gay enough” did this. Suddenly, it wasn’t about the seasons’ overall writing, it was about the fact that Rob, a straight man, was doing a bad job playing a gay man. Which made it even easier for people on tumblr to justify complaining about his acting.

And that led to people going back through the seasons and criticizing his acting in other episodes too (like I talked about above, it’s that confirmation bias. Going into something actively looking for ways it’s bad makes it way easier to be overly critical). Which led to this narrative of, “Rob is and always has been a bad actor”.

Now, some of you may be screaming at your screens, “nightcrawlerzincorporated, are you seriously gonna sit here and act like the only reason people dislike Rob is season 13 and his own self-deprecation?” No! Rob has done plenty of shit worthy of ridicule. He publically supported the racist All Lives Matter movement, is (or at least was, idk how he feels about it at this exact moment I’m not inside his head) pro-NFT, and less crucially but still a factor, he says annoying shit a lot. And I don’t think we could ever get along even in some fantasy scenario where we met. I’m not trying to convince anyone they have to like Rob and I’m not saying every criticism of him is just people looking for stuff to complain about. There’s some real shit there. Probably a lot more shit than I mentioned, even. But. None of that stuff actually has anything to do with his acting. I think after fandom opinion of him started souring, it was just emotionally cleaner for a lot of people to act like Rob had very little to do with the show they liked, actually, and his acting wasn’t even good and had nothing to do with how much they loved Mac (even though… yeah sorry if you love Mac it’s at least partially because you love Rob’s acting. You’re telling me all those great faces he pulls, his improv, his delivery, his hand gestures, and his chemistry with other actors all have NOTHING to do with liking Mac as a character?) 

I completely understand your frustration with having your opinion influenced by all that mess. That’s pretty much the whole reason I don’t interact with a show’s fandom until I’ve seen the entire thing at least once through myself, because fandom opinion really can influence how you see things, even if you try not to let it. I genuinely think a lot fewer people would think of him as a bad actor if it wasn’t such a Thing in the fandom.

And yeah, I think because Ian is. Y’know a character who was clearly planned to have this whole arc and tragic backstory from the very beginning, Rob just has a lot to work with as an actor. Whereas Mac’s narrative purpose has shifted dramatically over the course of Sunny and the more tragic elements of his character were added after the fact instead of always intended, which makes the way Rob plays him feel less consistent to people, because the character is just less consistently written. When Rob’s acting is allowed to fully shine with a well thought out character like Ian, pretty much everyone agrees he’s fantastic. Plus, the Mythic Quest fandom is a lot newer and smaller and so doesn’t have almost 20 years of expectations and opinions about how these characters “should” act like Sunny does. And I think that’s why Mythic Quest fans in general tend to disagree with the Sunny fandom opinion that he’s a bad actor. Because we all know that’s not true. You’re completely valid in seeing it as a whole thing because well. It is a whole thing. Look how many thoughts I have about it just off the top of my head lol.

[lucindarobinsonvevo]

i really want to share this because i think i was so smart to come up with this and i dont think i'll be finishing karma is a bounty hunter anytime soon. here's the twist:

Elle would be speaking on the phone to Tash and Andrew, and she starts complaining about this Ristic dude who's been the one spearheading the campaign against her and Harlow.

Tash would be like hmm interesting. have you considered that it might actually be pronounced Ri-Stich, which is a common Serbian last name.

Elle pauses, then goes I'm such an idiot!! and goes on to explain that Ristic is Lil's maiden name but she's only ever heard it spoken, never seen it written anywhere. Then goes on to say that she's only ever met three serbian people not including Tash. Lil, Serena...And the guard outside Robert's room (Robert attempts to kill himself *actually a murder attempt) who won't let her in to visit him despite her being explicitly named as his POA. Andrew asks how she knows his last name, and Elle explains that she can't see his name tag because he's wearing a coat but that one of the other guards called him by it earlier.

Then, she delivers the big fuck off twist. She can only think of one person who would care about getting revenge on her and Robert...Lil's eldest son Luka Dokich. She's been trying to speak to him for an interview for years but she's been searching for the last name Dokich, it never occurred to her he would have changed it to anything else. Realizing that Robert is probably in danger, Elle, without any allies left (Paul disowned her in part one, Riley is still in Sydney, Nicolette and Leo turn their backs on her in part three when she reveals that she actually could have given David a kidney, however she had made a choice to save it in case Harlow might need it later, Harlow tells her that she'd kill herself to get away from her too after Robert's alleged suicide attempt etc. it's the dark before the dawn basically) runs out of her hospital room, and up to Roberts. Robert is not there, the door is open and there's a small trail of blood from a removed IV...And crushed jacaranda flowers going up the fire escape.

Jacaranda flowers were going to be a repeating image in the story. They appear in the first part only on Elle's computer (she has Beneath the Jacaranda as her wallpaper), but in part two they would show up when she meets with Riley in Sydney and they walk under them in a park. Then in part three they would have shown up again when Elle arrives back at Lassiters and she follows a trail of them to another hotel room where Luka is spying on her and Harlow from, and for a third time when she's pushed down some stairs by him she's got one in her hand. In part four they would have shown up in Elle's extended dream sequence that takes place in the Plane from the Plane crash, where outside the window they're like, raining on them, and again after her long talk with Helen in the second part of the dream sequence she begs to be allowed to see Cameron before she goes, Helen agrees and lets Elle out into the backyard where he's waiting for her under some jacaranda trees. Finally, in part five they show up twice. Once, on the way to the prison with Harlow to see Robert they pass a car that has crashed into a Jacaranda tree before receiving the call he's tried to take his own life (and Harlow is angry that Elle is his POA not her) and again to lead Elle up to the roof top where she begins her confrontation with Luka to determine if Robert is going to live or die.

Part of the reason I havent actually started writing this is that it's too daunting lol, and also I haven't done that much research into Luka's episodes so I'm not sure what his actual fate is/if he has a personality that would lead her. not that it matters I guess neighbours can make a baddie out of anyone. But anyway if you were curious about the ending of Karma is a Bounty Hunter, then. here you go!

[slowdancingtorock]

Ireland-Day 30

Things are starting to get a little frustrating. I am getting used to the routine but the more I live it, the more I realise that I don't like it.

Today we went to Dublin Castle - a grand total of 3 interns and 4 students. They are adults and really don't need anyone supervising them. Not to mention that us interns don't get any entrance fees or anything paid for us so we just leave to get some coffee instead. Not to mention that my commute was nonsense; wake up, get on a 30 minute train ride to the school, then take the same train back for another 30 minutes, then again 30 minutes for the afternoon part of the job. It's annoying though at least I have my two colleagues who are great company.

I don't even bother complaining though since my alternative is even worse; for the afternoon part I was not on coffee break duty but instead had the pleasure of doing other stupid shit; resize fotos so we can put them on the website (done in 5 minutes), replace a power box (i.e. a mini computer) with another power box (done in 5 minutes) or go buy some milk (done in 10 minutes because there was a rather long line at the supermarket). I was literally just the guy everyone dumped their tasks on that they were too lazy to do. I hope this doesn't become the rest of my stay here that would suck so much.

I can't really bring myself to try and find something positive to see here, today flat out sucked. While it would have been naive to think that I wouldn't have any bad days here, I am really worried that this will be my live for my last 8 working days here. I will survive this, it could be so much worse but I know that it could be so much better as well. I adore (most of) my colleagues and I do not regret coming here, meeting them and working with all these people who want to learn English not to mention all the things I have learned here. But today was just a bad day, plain and simple.

My song of the day is a rather rough one as I have so many choices like Should I Stay or Should I Go by The Clash, Break by Three Days Grace or even Free Me by Paul Jones. Yes, I am being dramatic but I haven't found a good song yet that is about how work sucks. Would be funny if there were one, like it's not even anti-capitalist or anything, just "man, I hate my job". Anyway, my song of the day is World's Smallest Violin by AJR. Yes, because I am complaining so much but also because it reminds me of a wonderful late night walk that I went on with a good friend. Just two tipsy idiots walking/dancing down the street blasting random music from their phones.

Moments like these are magical - no obligations, no self-consciousness, just feels and the other people around you. And I am looking forward to having these moments again when I am back in Germany.

[tinky-dinky]

Your takes on Lyanna are objectively correct and her actions did set up what would be the eventual War of the Five Kings lol. The fact that there is pushback on this from those Lyanna apologists is hilarious to me as it is objectively what happened. She gets treated with such kid gloves by fandom it drives me crazy. The only characterization we have of her is her bitching how she doesn't want to marry Robert because he can't 'stick to one bed' and has a bastard child already and then she runs off with the married crown prince who has a true wife and two trueborn children at home. The fact that she died as a result of giving birth to her bastard affair baby after bitching about Robert's bastard is one of the more hilarious examples of karmic justice in the books lol.

100% agreed with you, my dear nonnie.

The fandom doesn’t hold Lyanna accountable for her decisions and actions because she’s a child….and yet the Stark children are all held accountable for their actions, despite all being younger than Lyanna.

I haven’t seen a single person say Robb isn’t to blame for the consequences of his decision to marry Jeyne because he’s a child. He’s a year, maybe two, younger than Lyanna.

I see a lot of people demonise Robert pre-Rebellion, and it seriously irritates me. Before the rebellion- so when Lyanna was complaining about him sleeping around and fathering bastards- he had one bastard, Mya Stone. Who was born somewhere around a year after Robert watched his parents die. If you factor in travel time from the Stormlands to the Vale, it seems Robert left the Stormlands as soon as he could and almost immediately fathered Mya. Given he later takes to drinking and whoring to bury his pain and grief over Lyanna, is it not possible he was doing the same with his pain and grief for his parents?

Another insane thing about the fandom I’ve seen is people excusing that show!Lyanna named her son Aegon, seemingly to replace Rhaegar’s literally just brutally murdered baby of the same name. Rhaegar gets blamed for this, even though he was dead. And had been dead for some time. There was no reason for Lyanna to stick with his name choice unless she agreed with it. Which, given she also agreed to marry Rhaegar in and hide out in the kingdom his wife was from (jesus christ poor Elia could these two have been bigger assholes?!), does not seem out of character. But that is show!Lyanna of course.

I’ve seen suggestions that Lyanna will name Jon a northern name (begging the question of why, then, Ned would change it?). Like Brandon, to honour her brother. The one who died a horrific death directly because of her choice to run off with the married prince. Delightful.

As for the subject of the War of the Five Kings, I feel the need to clarify as one idiot did claim I blamed Lyanna directly for it, when I did not and do not. I do blame her (and Rhaegar) for the Rebellion, the ramifications of which led to the WOFK, those being:

- No ‘kidnapping’, no dead Rickard and Brandon, meaning either Rickard or Brandon would be Lord of Winterfell and Brandon would be married to Catelyn, not Ned. This, of course, changes things dramatically.

- No Rebellion, no King Robert, no forced marriage to Cersei. Robert doesn’t father a billion bastards and isn’t murdered. Cersei…may well still have twincest bastards but wouldn’t be queen, wouldn’t put one of said twincest bastards on the throne, no execution of Ned.

- No Rebellion, no dead Elbert and Denys Arryn, no marriage between Jon Arryn and Lysa Tully, no manipulations via Baelish. Without Lysa to convince Jon to elevate Petyr to higher positions, Baelish can’t kickstart wars or fuck people over so much.

- No Rebellion, no exiled Targaryens, no dragons, no tyrannical pyromaniacal dragon queen and potentially a sane Viserys.

- No Rebellion, no dead Elia, Rhaenys and Aegon. No rebelling from Dorne.

- No Rebellion, no death of Quellon Greyjoy, likely no Ironborn rebellion, hopefully less messed up Theon.

I could go on. The ramifications of Lyanna and Rhaegar’s selfishness and stupidity run deep. But I think I’ve made my point.

[roseonthewindow]

idk youre using this blog only to rant and overall be quite rude and lowkey conservative so I think its less about the algorythm and more about how you present yourself. Constantly complaining about gay ships and nb people really doesnt really make other rp blogs want to approach you. Like genuinely log off queen this place is doing more bad than good to your mental health and reputation, and your husband's too if ppl truly are sending him hate

See here is how it works... This blog was attacked day one by a little shithole, said little shithole had been holding a monopoly over the entire lies of P RP fandom I had no clue at that time this was happening. They were effectively being a Gatekeeper, They used intimidation and slanderous abuse to try and get their way (to this day said little shit has not stopped trying.) Gaslighting no longer works on me; you can thank my deceased ex husband/attempted murder for that one when the person you put most of your trust in does something like Gaslighting to literally POISON you, you tend to be very untrusting. I love manhua I DO NOT like living in one even for that moment trust me form personal experience it sucks. So no matter what you said here you had two options... 1.) Be the asshole. 2.) Put a starter or offer a RP, take up the offer for a plaining. I don't think I have to explain this any more clearly, you made your choice; you will not be missed. When I openly went against the little shithole, and those rants you hate, some people took it upon themselves to say "I don't have to let them tell me what to do" these people referring to the little shithole. If you don't like it please note there were two options open to you. YOU are the one who decided to add yet another rant about how to spite having the opportunity and options you chose THIS. I should note that the second option was even recommended in this instance. I have been attacked and called such vile things by this asshole in their private groups I'm sure, Child if you can't get your the toxic one here I can't help you. My frustration with the Gay is because that fucker has been no stop bothering me and using the ship to hide behind so useful idiots like yourself do what you just did. Your getting yourself dirty on their behalf. YOU are being a literal tool for a abusive troll just because that troll shares your ship. I am not here for the Lies of P ships, so I will not bow to them regardless.

[casspurrjoybell-24]

My Mate - Chapter 31 - Part 1

*Warning Adult Content*

Torin Frey

"But Halloween is long over," I complained but Dana just rolled her eyes, fixing her hair and makeup in the mirror before turning towards me.

"Costume parties can be held at any time," she stated, apparently at such short notice, she couldn't find any fairy wings to go with her pretty purple dress.

She wanted me to dress up as her fairy prince, she'd even went ahead and gotten the costume for me.

There was no other choice but to go along with it.

I haven't owned a costume since I was thirteen and dressed up as the Hulk for Halloween.

Thinking about it, I wondered what Mom did with the padded bodysuit I had ran around in for weeks thinking I was invincible.

I looked down at the white suit Dana picked out for me and picked at one of the diamond buttons.

It was very nicely made.

I couldn't imagining her finding this in a thrift shop or costume store.

It fit perfectly too.

"Come on, let's go so you can see your Mate in some skimpy warrior costume," she joked, grabbing my hand and pulling me along.

We were late because she'd taken so long getting ready.

Everyone else went ahead but she screamed at me until I reluctantly sat down, having no other choice but to wait for her.

Who knew it could take two hours to do makeup.

It didn't even look like she had any one but who was I to suggest she add some glitter for the fairy affect.

The Frey females could be scary when they wanted to be and I knew when to be quiet.

Now she'd put the thought in my head though and I wondered what Robert would be wearing.

He could definitely pull off a skimpy warrior costume.

He had the perfect body for it.

Oh, I shouldn't think of that right now.

I thought about his body too much... specifically what it would look like without any clothes.

Dang, I'm thinking about it now.

Smiling to myself, I got into Dana's car.

I wouldn't have if I'd known she had the intention to kill me.

The whole five minute ride was stressful.

"Stop being a drama Queen and come on," she said, rolling her eyes and hopped out, fixing her dress.

I peeled myself from the seat and forced myself not to kiss the ground.

I'd never get in a car with her behind the wheel again.

Turning to look up at the pack house, I had expected loud music and flashing neon lights.

Much like there had been at the Human party Robert took me to.

There wasn't any of that.

Not even some drunk male laying on the front lawn.

Maybe Werewolf parties are different.

I'd thought it would have been ten times crazier.

Seems I'll have to find another chance to redecorate.

Following Dana into the house, I immediately came to a standstill.

"Did you lie? Is there no party and you just wanted to get me dressed up for no reason?" I accused, glaring up at her.

Placing my hands on my hips, I watched her scratch at her brow as if at a loss.

Where was everyone?

I hadn't even seen my other cousins costumes because Dana had kept me locked up in my room.

Maybe they'd went to dinner or were across the street laughing at me.

"Everyone's in the backyard, you'd be an idiot to allow drunk Werewolves in your house," she sassed, mirroring my pose with her hands on her hips.

"Oh."

That made sense, I guess.

Dana laughed and came over to me, fixing my suit and smoothing any wrinkles out.

"Can't have my prince looking bad," she winked and I let her grab my hand and drag me towards the back of the house.

I still couldn't hear any music but I guess they wanted to keep the peace.

Is there a such thing as silent parties?

I thought I'd have seen at least one drunk person passed out somewhere.

"Please smile," Dana said, blocking my view with her tall frame so I couldn't see out the back sliding door.

I smiled for her and she finally walked outside.

My smile quickly morphed into confusion and then shock once I followed her out.

The first thing that caught my attention was the fairy lights wrapped around the patio banister.

I was relieved when I caught sight of the huge crowd in the backyard.

At least I wasn't lied to and there was actually a party.

Then I realized everyone was staring at us and they all rushed to stand up out of their chairs.

"What's going on?" I whispered to Dana as my eyes continued to take everything in.

She didn't have to respond though.

My eyes finally landed on my Mate.

Robert's lips lifted in a slow smile that I'd seen plenty of times... it was smug.

My eyes filled with tears as my heart started working again.

When? How? Dana gave me a nudge, apparently thinking I was taking too long.

I needed that nudge though to get me walking.

Robert's smile grew bigger and I had to force myself not to run to him.

Everyone was still staring at me but at least I looked nice.

Imagine if I had came in an actual costume.

The isle was covered with white rose petals but I barely noticed them I was so overwhelmed.

Mom and Dad were in the front dressed up like everyone else, along with the rest of the family.

They smiled at me and Mom nodded in encouragement.

Not that I needed any, I about threw myself at Robert after speed-walking to him.

My handsome mate chuckled beside my ear as I clung to him, my tears finally spilling over.

"Are these happy tears?" he asked, sounding a little unsure.

I sniffled, nodding against his chest.

"You wore a pink suit," I said as if it explained everything.

"It was in your book," he chuckled, pushing me back a little so he could look over my face.

He cupped my cheeks, using his thumbs to wipe away my tears.

I must have looked silly, crying with the huge smile on my face.

I looked down at his suit, the soft pink that looked almost white was exactly how I'd imagined.

He'd done this for me... he'd given me my dream Mating Ceremony.

My face warmed as I peaked out at the crowd watching us.

Mom was taking pictures, unable to wait... I couldn't believe this.

It must be a dream... a really good one.

A female dressed in plain light gray robes motioned for everyone to take their seats, finally gaining my attention.

I stared at her in shock, the silver circlet resting on her brow signaled her high standing.

Robert grabbed my hand and turned us towards her.

I stole another glance at him before looking back at the high priestess.

"We gather here today to witness the bonding of Robert Lee Killian and Torin Frey."

I snickered at the use of my Mate's full name and he shot a quick glare at me.

He didn't stop smiling though and neither did I.

My cheeks were starting to ache I was cheesing so hard.

This was better than any dream Ceremony I'd planned in my head.

Mostly because of the male standing beside me.

No matter if some thought it was too soon, I know I'm in love with him.

Robby, who only wore ripped jeans and his leather jacket, was now standing in front of our entire pack and the dozen of other Alphas in a pink suit.

For me. I sent a silent thanks to the Moon Goddess who gave me my best friend.

Someone I know I can always count on and trust to the very end.

She gave to me the male that would share all my greatest and worst memories.

Someone I'll love forever.

She gave me my Mate.

[votestaynight2]

12th Day - moonlight (II) (Scene 4)

I jump down.

I don't even use the stairs.

I have jumped down behind Tohsaka without even knowing it.

But that's it. My wooden sword is destroyed by Kuzuki's fist, going for Tohsaka's head.

"What?" Everyone's astonished by the sudden intruder. Except for one man, who reacts as though it's perfectly natural.

"――――――――" He does not hesitate. It does not matter for this man who the enemy is. He has no emotion for the one who appeared.

Death's scythe is thrust. There's no way to block it. I'll have my neck snapped like a flower. How pitiful. It's meaningless if I won't last even two seconds. I… …Will not be able to do anything, not even save Tohsaka―――― ――――No. I had a way from the start. I can prepare numerous things to block the attack. If I am a magus… What does the fighting is not my body, but something I make out of magic――――!

"――――Trace, on." Then make it. Success is a matter of course. Do not reconstruct it from the basic structure. (Danger)[r] Read its concept, the maker's thought, expectation, moral, faith, and the origin itself. (Danger)[r] That is why it is not reconstruction, but projection. It is an equal shadow cast by the true object.

(Danger)[r] It does not matter how great the work is. If it has been accomplished, there is no problem with recreating it――――! (Overload)[r]

But there is another problem. Yes, the problem is, the problem is the problem is, the problem is the problem is the problem is that the unit cannot keep up with the function. My body is burning. Every cell in me catches fire. My nerves let out agonizing cries, my retina cracks and dries, and my heartbeat disappears. I ignore my body's order to stop. The concept of creation, the basic structure, the composition material, the skill of its making, the experience of its growth, the accumulated years, I skip it all and make up Kanshou and Bakuya.

My whole body is burning. Using projection now means dying. Emiya Shirou's body cannot handle such magic. My head ignores it, and therefore, my body will die.

――――But. That cannot be a problem. No, it cannot be.

――――I will die if I reproduce swords? Of course not. This body is a Magic Circuit specialized for this purpose alone. I have been saved by swords, and I have lived with swords. I do not know about others, but it is impossible for me to destroy myself by reproducing swords――――!

"Hah――――……!!" I repel it. The same weapons are in my hands, and my enemy is the same. Kanshou and Bakuya are in my hands. The reproduced Noble Phantasm of Archer has repelled Kuzuki's fist once again.

"――――――――" ―――It stops right there. Kuzuki must have figured out this would turn out like last time, as he takes a step back.

"Haa―――, guh……!" My lungs explode. The breath I've been holding escapes my mouth in a rush.

I don't feel my left shoulder. My wound has completely opened up and the blood stains not only my bandage, but my shirt as well.

―――It's not damage brought on by using the projection magic. Two attacks. I only repelled Kuzuki's attack twice and my shoulder got destroyed. I bet my shoulder would have been dislocated with one more attack, and my arm would have been ripped off.

"――――Haa, haa, ha――――" But I can't show that. I ready my twin swords and protect Tohsaka's back.

And Tohsaka is… "Y-You idiot―――! Why are you here…!?" She has stopped and is complaining to me.

"――――――――" …I'm relieved. My choice wasn't wrong. I'm glad her good-heartedness is still there.

"――――――――!" No, now's not the time. It's too early to tell if my choice was right or not. We have to get out of here alive.

"―――Sorry, complain to me later, Tohsaka. I'll listen once we get out of here, so let's take care of them first." Tohsaka nods silently and readies herself behind me.

"―――I knew you were going to do something, but I did not think you would jump down." Kuzuki is watching us, his fists ready to fight.

…He has no intention of letting us go. He's standing there so he doesn't let one of us go. If either one of us moves, he should react right away――――

"――――――――!" But I can't be taking my time. …The wound on my shoulder is getting worse by the second. My concentration fades as more blood is lost. My body won't last long to start with. If we are to run, we should do so as fast as possible.

…But we can't run away that easily. Kuzuki will react if I move. When that happens, Tohsaka will be the first one to die. I have to defeat Kuzuki to let Tohsaka go. But I don't have the power to beat Kuzuki, and he's not our only enemy.

Behind Kuzuki are Caster and the betrayer, Archer. …No, in the worst case, Saber might also become our enemy.

"――――――――" Was there no exit to begin with? There is no miracle that will let us escape from here. I want Tohsaka to escape at the very least, but even that would require so much luck that it makes me sick――――

"That's it. I was surprised by your intrusion, but the result does not change. …Yes, it looks like you have given up. You came out, so you don't mind dying, right?"

"I shall end it here. It would be troublesome to keep you alive, so―――" "――――!" …She's coming…! I'll resist with all my powers. I ready my twin swords and stand in front of Tohsaka.

Released intent to kill. Right before it reaches us… "――――No. Hold on, Caster." The knight in red stops the attack with an emotionless voice.

"…Archer. I thought you would know that you have no right to say anything here." "No, there is something I forgot to tell you. I want to give one condition for me to side with you." "…A condition?"

"Yes. I gave you my freedom without resistance. As compensation, I would like for you to let them go. They are useless as Masters now. There is no merit to killing them." His proposal sounds objective. Tohsaka watches it intently.

"Let them go? …Heh, you are more good-natured than you act." "I was born as a human. It will leave a bad aftertaste if I kill my master right after I betray her."

"Oh. You are a traitor, but you say such a thing in front of the one you betrayed?"

"…Fine. I shall let them go this time. But I will kill them if they get in my way again, no matter who stops me. Is that fine, Archer?"

"Of course. If they are stupid enough to continue fighting in this situation, they deserve to die."

…That must have concluded the negotiation. The intent to kill filling the temple goes away, and the restraining enmity fades.

"So that's it, you two. I will let you go this time. Now, run like the dogs you are." "――――!" I glare at Caster. …But. Tohsaka pulls on my arm silently.

"Let's go. She's right." She whispers in my ear. "――――――――" I calm down and turn my back to the enemy.

We don't run but slowly make our way to the stairs. The distance that seemed so great is covered in just a few steps. A footstep. Tohsaka takes a step onto the stairs and turns back to Caster. …No, that's wrong. Tohsaka did not look at Caster, but at the man smiling beside our enemy.

"It is wrong to curse me, Rin. It is just that this woman is a better Master than you are. If the difference is clear, I will choose the stronger one."

"―――You're right. But you'll regret it. I will never give up. I'm going to defeat Caster and get you back. I won't forgive you even if you apologize to me at that time."

"That is just vain effort. Well, I will not stop you if you want to throw away your life." She turns away and starts to walk. She's biting her lip in anger. But she does not speed up, and Tohsaka leaves the underground temple in a magnificent manner.

We get out of the church. We do not say anything.

"――――――――!" …My wound hurts. The sweat on my forehead drips down to my eyes and my vision wavers.

"Haa…… guh." Even walking hurts my wound. It hurts every time I take a step, and my strides are getting shorter.

"…Emiya-kun?" She turns back to me, as I am falling behind. …Then. Tohsaka suddenly looks at me seriously.

"Let's rest for a bit. It should be hard for you even to walk." "Huh…? No, I'm fine. I can bear this. We need to get home as soon as possible."

To the Emiya or Tohsaka household. It doesn't matter, but we should get Tohsaka back to her home ground.

"Don't worry about my wound. It's not like there's poison in there." I ignore Tohsaka's stare and keep walking. "――――!" …How pitiful. My knee's about to give out right after I say so.

"See! You're pushing yourself too much. It's suicidal to fight against Kuzuki with that wound of yours. Take a rest. They won't come after us."

"…I'd assume so, but let's go home as quickly as possible. It's not that painful." "Hey now…! Don't say it's not painful when you're bleeding so much! I don't know why you want to go home so bad, but we should rest for now, right!?"

She scolds me. …Oh, so she's not back to par yet, huh? Her usual coolness isn't there. She's very emotional, so her anger will be unstoppable if the brakes give way.

"Are you listening to me!? You're not like Kirei, so it's troubling to have you leave a trail of blood after you! First of all, why did it end up like this!? I know I told you to go to the church, but couldn't you tell it was dangerous right away!?"

"…Hey now. I was able to tell right away. I knew something bad was happening the moment I saw the church."

"――――! You should've gone home right then, you idiot! Not only that, but you came in with that wound of yours and used projection again! It's natural for your wound to get worse! And you're saying it's not painful!? Geez, what's wrong with you!? Why would you push yourself so hard…!!!!?"

Tohsaka roars out without stop. …But well… It really isn't that painful, and――――

"―――It's more painful for you, right?" " " "So let's go home. You can complain once you get home."

…That's why I wanted to go home as quickly as possible. She doesn't have to act that strong. Tohsaka can let everything out once she's back in her own room at home.

"What――――?" "――――!" She wipes her face like she made a mistake and turns away.

"Ah――――eh――――um…" I-I can't think of anything to say. That was…

"…I can't believe it. A guy made me cry." She murmurs while looking down. ――――Then.

"…! T-Tohsaka, your hand…! You're holding my hand…!" "―――Shut up. Take responsibility, you idiot." "Eh――――hold on, my wound's hurting…! Don't pull on my LEFT hand…!"

It's the foreigners' cemetery. Tohsaka walks over to the grassy area and finally lets go of my hand.

"―――Hey, Tohsaka. We don't have time to be playing around――――" "Sit down. Just sit down for now." "……" She does not let me object, so I sit down.

"And turn your back to me. Don't turn this way, okay? I'll get really angry if you look at my face." I hear a sound behind me.

"……?" We sit down on the grass with our backs to each other. …I don't get why she's doing this. Tohsaka is silent, and she told me not to turn around. I don't have anything to do, so I look up at the sky.

"――――――――" I gasp at how big it is. Is it because I've been underground so long, or is it because the sky is clear tonight? Anyways, the winter night sky is so beautiful that it makes me forget about my wound. The warmth of Tohsaka's body on my back doesn't bother me either. I look up at the black sky, forgetting about everything for now.

―――How long have we been sitting like this? The silent girl starts to talk in a calm voice.

"――――I'm just talking to myself." …I see. I can't reply if she's just talking to herself. I'll keep staring at the night sky.

"I might have made a mistake. I should've done what Archer said and beaten Caster without caring about how I did it. I was trying to find an opening because I was worried about small sacrifices. But it turns out that everybody in this town might be sacrificed now."

She keeps talking. She's probably whining. She's not saying so because I told her. In short, Tohsaka doesn't want to contemplate her actions by herself, but wants someone else to make her do it.

"…I'm not complaining, but I keep on screwing up when it counts the most. I can handle the second and third most important things with ease, but I always have a problem with the single most important one."

The winter sky is clear. But in contrast, the air is really cold. I don't care about myself, but isn't Tohsaka cold without her coat? …I'm worried about that.

"It's not Archer's fault alone that he went to their side. It's my fault for letting Caster be. But yeah… it really gets to me. I was talking to him earlier, but I'm cornered already."

She sighs. I can't see it, but I bet her breath is white.

"…Hey now. I think this is where you make a comment." "Oh. So, what were you cornered by, Tohsaka?"

"It's about never regretting your own actions. He said I'm not the type to regret my actions, but it seems now's the critical moment. I'm even more depressed that I've made a mistake."

"――――――――" …I see. I don't understand her too well, but Archer's right. Tohsaka isn't the type to regret her actions.

"That's just now, right? It's irritating, but I agree with Archer. There's nothing for you to regret." "Why? Caster is doing whatever she wants, and even Archer lost faith in me. This is because my policy was a mistake, right?"

"It's just that you were unsuccessful. You haven't made a mistake. If you haven't made a mistake, you can be proud of yourself even if you were unsuccessful."

―――The process. If you walk down the path that you believe is right, you cannot be wrong. …At a time like this, most people will realize that their path is a wrong one, but she's different. Her path should always be one that she can be proud of.

"―――Yeah. To be honest, you've always shined. …I won't regret my actions either. I believe what I've done is right, but it's full of stitches." ―――I don't want to regret anything. I want to make all the tragedies that happened into meaningful things by believing that my path is right. "But you're different. You're the type that will regret something, then go back and retaliate. I'm deceiving myself with all the patchwork, but you go and completely destroy it with a straight face. You're breaking even. You only get depressed once in a while, but what comes after is scary in your case. I think you will go to the one that got you depressed and get them to be even more depressed." "――――Ugh. What is that, are you trying to finish me off?" "Yeah, I thought I'd strike while your guard was down. Well, isn't that true? I'm sure you don't intend to give up now."

I look up at the night sky and say so as if talking to myself. Tohsaka doesn't answer. But I think that… She smiled, getting herself together.

"――――――――" And silence follows. Tohsaka must have said everything she wanted to, as she stops talking.

I aimlessly look up at the night sky. …We should be going home… But neither one of us can stand up to break the moment, so we just keep our backs to each other.

"―――Oh yeah. Why did you come help me, Shirou?" "――――――――" I can't explain. There are many reasons. I think it'd be stupid to explain each one. So I say something I have to tell her.

"You remember this pendant, right?" I show her the pendant.

"――――――――" I hear her gasp behind me. …I thought so. I bet she intended to keep this a secret, but she made a mistake again.

"Hey… where did you get that?" "I found it in your room. Oh… You might get surprised when you get home, but I'm sorry. I tipped over your dresser." I return her the pendant behind my back.

"…Heh. So what about it?" "Well, I have the exact same pendant at my house. I picked it up when I found it after being killed by Lancer."

I casually hint about that night. Then―――― "――――There's an identical one…?" Tohsaka gasps as if she's heard something she shouldn't have.

"Huh? Did I say something strange?" "Uh… no, it's nothing. But why would that be a reason to come help me? That pendant means nothing, right?"

"Right. …It's just a reason I made up afterwards. To confess, I've been admiring Tohsaka Rin for a long time. And this is a problem, but I got to like you even more after I talked to you. So I didn't want you to die, and I jumped down even before I realized it."

"!! ――――H-Hey now. Don't say it so directly! You'll create misunderstandings if you talk without thinking!"

"I won't create misunderstandings. I really do like you." I obstinately reply at once. It's not a lie, so there's no misunderstanding to be made.

"Y-You idiot…! That's why you jumped in suicidally, you big idiot!"

Tohsaka keeps calling me an idiot. She's criticizing mercilessly, but I strangely don't feel bad. The night sky is beautiful, and I feel calm. And I'm just really happy that Tohsaka's back to normal.

"All right. Let's go home like you said."

"Here, give me your hand. It should be hard for you to stand up with that wound of yours." I grab her hand with my right. Tohsaka pulls me up.

"Then we don't owe each other anything now. Let's not count today's incident."

"――――――――" That would really help me out. I don't know what the pendant meant to Tohsaka. I bet I would have felt more guilty towards Tohsaka if I found out. Tohsaka didn't want that and said the incidents offset one another. So Tohsaka shouldn't feel bad about getting helped earlier.

―――And we leave the foreigners' cemetery. And on the way…[r] "…Thanks for helping me, Shirou. Um, it really did help me out." Tohsaka adds with embarrassment.

We walk down the hill. When we're going back to our home ground where it's safe… Tohsaka heads for my house and not her house, as if it's natural to do so.

We're back at my place. I never thought I would make it back alive, so I relax once I get into the living room. "――――Whoa." I feel a bit dizzy and lean against the wall.

"See. You can't even stand up, you idiot." "……Hm."

…She's right, but I think her last comment was unnecessary. How many times did she call me an idiot today? I bet she set a new record already.

"Come over here. We have to replace those bandages at the very least." "――――" I nod and move by Tohsaka.

"I can use this first aid kit, right? Oh, as expected from a house with a dojo. It's rare to see a first aid kit with needles and threads along with scissors… Hey, come on. Take off your shirt and show me your wound."

"Eh―――I have to take my clothes off? Oh, no, I can do it myself. I treated myself this morning, so it shouldn't be a problem."

"…Come on. I don't know why you're so reserved, but who do you think treated that wound in the first place?"

"――――Ugh. But that was, um…" I was unconscious and I was only causing trouble for Tohsaka at that time.

"Stop your whining and hurry up. Your wound is special, so we have to treat it right for it to heal up."

"……" How unfair. I can't complain if she tells me with a face like that.

"…Okay, I'll leave it to you. To be honest, it's burning right now." I give up and sit down. Seeing that the shirt is stained with blood, Tohsaka gives up taking it off and starts cutting it right away. She then quickly but carefully takes off the bandages.

"――――――――" …Is it that bad? Tohsaka gasps when she sees it.

"……" …But I'm troubled as well. It's so embarrassing having her stare at my body so closely.

"You really did push yourself. It was healing up, but the wound opened up again. …Geez, I can't get mad at you if I see a wound like this." She talks like that, but gently touches the wound.

"――――――――" …Crap, I'm getting dizzy for a different reason. I was able to stay calm even if she was near me, but my heart's beating fast now and I'm having trouble determining where to look.

"……Man." I criticize myself mentally, but it does no good. The temperature inside my head will keep increasing as long as we're like this. Because the dizziness isn't caused by my wound.

"…Tohsaka? It's fine now, right? Just use styptic and roll up the bandage." "That's not called treating. …I take it back. I'm angry. You went outside with a hackjob like this?"

A slapping sound. "Gii……!" W-What was that for…!? Tohsaka just slapped me on my wound!!

"Guh, you…! Do you have some grudge against me!?" "Humph. You have no idea. You should thank me for going easy on you." Saying so, Tohsaka takes out something that looks like ointment.

"That hurts, right? I healed the dead nerves, so it should hurt for a while. There's painkiller in this ointment, but it's mainly to replace your flesh. It'll hurt until it familiarizes with your body, so don't do anything reckless until the pain goes away."

She takes the jelly-like substance and applies it to my wound. "――――――――" It looks really suspicious, but I stay quiet since I know Tohsaka is seriously treating my wound.

"That's it. You should feel much better tomorrow if you wrap some bandages around it and get a good night's sleep."

She skillfully wraps the bandages around the wound. …I'm not praising her or anything, but she does a much better job than I do.

"…Yeah. Um, thanks, Tohsaka. I feel much better." I thank her while averting my gaze. "Eh―――w-well, that's good. I'm glad I treated you if you say so."

"Yeah, it's even more helpful because I thought it wouldn't heal up. Thanks for treating the wound." "――――H-Heh. That's only natural. It'll heal as long as I treat it."

Finishing the treatment, Tohsaka gets up. …Then. I don't know why, but she heads to the kitchen.

"Tohsaka?" Am I seeing things? She's checking what's inside the refrigerator and the rice cooker.

"Hey, what are you doing?" "I'm preparing dinner. You haven't eaten yet, right? I haven't eaten either, so we're going to eat dinner."

"…Yeah, I can tell. But why cook dinner in this situation?" "It's natural, right? People can't come up with good ideas on an empty stomach."

Tohsaka speaks while staring inside the refrigerator.

The sound of our utensils echoes inside the room. It's past ten o'clock. I don't know how it ended up like this, but Tohsaka and I are eating a late dinner together.

By the way, the dinner was made by both of us. Tohsaka wanted to eat Japanese food, but she didn't even know how to make miso soup. It really makes me wonder what they're teaching in the cooking class at school.

Tohsaka is concentrating on her meal. She must be hungry, as her plate is almost empty.

"――――――――" But I don't have much of an appetite right now. It's partly because this isn't the time to be eating, but more so because I haven't replied to Tohsaka.

'――――You can forfeit here, Shirou.' I haven't told her my reply to those words.

"――――Tohsaka. I have something to talk about." I put my chopsticks down and stare at Tohsaka.

"What?" "I've been thinking. About my reason for joining this battle. And what I wanted to do."

"Yeah, and?" She urges me to go on as she sips on the miso soup. …She's putting my spirit down, but I try to get myself together.

"At first, it was because I was dragged into this. And I wanted to do something about this war. ―――But it has nothing to do with how I became a Master or how I got dragged into this."

"――――――――" "I like superheroes. That's why I have to protect everyone. I don't care about this Master thing. It makes no difference that I'm not a Master or that I've lost Saber."

I say so, ready for Tohsaka's rebuttal. …But… "Oh, I see." She makes an absentminded response and finishes her rice.

"Hey now, Tohsaka. I'm talking seriously, so―――"

"I am listening. You'll fight by yourself, right? The fact that people are dying bothers you more than the fact that you might die. That's why you decided to fight no matter how weak you are."

She looks straight at me. It's as if she sees through the part of me that I don't even know about―――and most of all, she approves that I am fighting.

"Eh―――oh, yeah. That's right." "What's with that face? You look like a squirrel that has licked sugar." "Well. I thought you would object."

"I am. But I can't complain to you when you've saved me like that. …And I understand that you're like that no matter how much I try to stop you."

Tohsaka averts her gaze a bit. "?" I don't know why, but――――

"Then we're still cooperating…!?" "―――Yeah. I can't help it, so I'll go along with you. First of all, I'll be so worried that I won't be able to sleep soundly if I let you be by yourself. And…" She takes a huge breath. After getting ready for some reason…

"To put it in your words, I don't hate you, Shirou. …So it's fine if we stay together, right?"

She hands me the bowl with a red face. How long did it take me to realize that she's asking for seconds?

"Oh―――of course…! I don't care how much of a tyrant you are!" I take the bowl, fill it from the rice cooker, and hand it back to her. "…Fine. I'm hungry and the food's good." Tohsaka starts eating the heap of rice.

"―――――――!" I smile. I bet I'm smiling as I eat. But I can't help it. I'm so happy right now, so let me smile like a fool for a while――――

Well. Now we're drinking tea after dinner.

"So, projection has its limitations. Its power seems unlimited since it makes your imagination real, but projection has its own set of rules. The simplest is about the projected object's durability. The strength of its existence."[l] Tohsaka puts up a finger as she drinks her tea.

"Strength of its existence…? What? You mean its flimsiness in being unable to bear the existence of the illusion?" I sip the tea and tilt my head in wonder.

"…You seem like you don't know anything, but you know some interesting terms. …Well, you're not right, but not wrong. Projection uses your mental image to completely reproduce the genuine object. There is no exception to this. You can't project it if it's not perfect inside of you. As it is a shadow of the true object, the projection magic requires that there be no mistake."

"So―――basically, the projected object has the strength as you imagine it. An illusion is perfect in this regard. The closer the knowledge and the image are to the true object, the more perfect the projected object is in real life."

"…Hm? Wait, that's strange. I projected Archer's swords. But Kuzuki destroyed them. I know Caster strengthened Kuzuki's fists, but they aren't strong enough to destroy a Noble Phantasm. Doesn't that mean the Kanshou and Bakuya I projected are inferior to the originals?"

"Yes, you realized a very good point, Emiya-kun. That's the limit of projection, the strength of the object's existence. Projection is just a projection. It's not creation. What makes the projection is the image in the caster's mind. So when a flaw is created in the image, the projected object vanishes even if it has the same ability as the original."

"…? When a flaw is created in the image…? Isn't that also strange? You can't project it if the image is incorrect, right?"

"Right. So the flaw would be created after it is projected. …Let's see. Let's say you project a 'sword that will not break'." I nod. Tohsaka nods in satisfaction.

"But a sword that will not break doesn't exist. It's just that the sword is famed or called 'unbreakable', so it can break if it comes across an illusion greater than itself."

"…? Doesn't it mean my image was wrong once it breaks? I made a sword that won't break, right?"

"That's wrong. It's perfect the moment you project it. First of all, a 'sword that will not break' is just a name. There isn't an actual sword that won't break. But what you imagined is a 'sword that won't break', right? If this sword breaks in real life, what is projected becomes a lie."

"This isn't because the 'sword broke'. What you imagined is a 'sword that will not break'. So when it breaks, the 'sword that broke' and the 'sword that will not break' in your imagination become two separate things. ―――It's because the scales between you and reality tip."

…? So, if I sum it up…

"―――All right. So, I imagined a sword that would not break and projected it. But the projected sword broke during battle. When that happened, I denied the sword, saying 'Hey, this sword broke.' As a result, the projected sword disappeared. And that's because there was an inconsistency between reality and the image, right?"

"You're pretty bright. Yes, you're right. You projected Archer's swords. I don't know how you ranked Archer's swords, but you did not imagine swords that would break from Kuzuki's attacks."

"But the swords were destroyed. At that time, you thought, 'these aren't Archer's swords'. The projected swords were denied by the maker, so they lost their strength of existence and became a fantasy once again."

"――――――――" …I see. Even projected weapons can break. But it's not the enemy, but you, who make them disappear from this world. When the difference between the reality and the image becomes too large to be reconciled, the projected weapon disappears. It is because the one who projected the weapon stops believing in the image.

"Do you get it now? So projection starts from the blueprint. You should consider material, properties, and even its history. If you have those down, I don't think the projected object will disappear right away even if it's a bit different."

"Huh? Wouldn't you start from how it was considered to be made? Materials and techniques aren't enough. Let's take today's dinner as example. It started when you said you wanted to eat Japanese food, right? So you have to start from the very beginning of the creation."

"――――――――" Oh. Tohsaka's stunned.

"…………" Tohsaka stares at me. I drink tea and tilt my head in wonder.

"Hey, how did we start talking about this in the first place?" "…You're right. I thought we were talking about what our future course of action should be…"

Oh yeah. We were talking about what our course of action should be… "Shirou. Do you want to seriously practice projection magic?" …When Tohsaka derailed the conversation.

"…I remember now. We were so stumped that we started placing hope on uncertain factors." "―――Yeah. First of all, all I can manage to project are swords. That hasn't helped me too much, so it's probably not much use."

"…………" Oh, she's looking at me with those eyes again. …I wonder why. She always makes that face when we talk about projection magic.

"…Oh well. Let's confirm our current situation. For now, our enemy is Caster. She isn't too bad by herself, but we can't do anything as long as she's protected by Kuzuki and Archer. Plus, it's only a matter of time before Saber is controlled. The situation is getting worse by the second――――"

"…Yeah. But Saber isn't under Caster's complete control. That gives us a chance of victory. There's no chance of victory once Saber gives in."

I can't let that happen. She told me to run. She told me as she cried. So for Saber's sake, I can't let Caster do as she wishes.

"――――That's right. So, raise your hand if you have an idea. Shirou, do you have any good ideas?"

"Hm――――" An idea that will break the current deadlock. If there is a way to oppose Caster, it is――――