#I have plenty more thoughts on them I'm simply too tired to really. list them out right now x']

[faresong]

oh, to be doomed

[soapoet]

autumn energy reading

like & rb if it resonates ♡

01.

Shufflemancy: Pancakes for dinner by Lizzy McAlpine

Are you getting tired of the push-and-pull? It feels like the moment you put your foot down, tell yourself you're done, they're cute but not that cute, you're getting impatient and want to see movement, that's the exact moment you're pulled back in. The chemistry between you and someone you're dealing with is electrifying. Outsiders could easily think the two of you are an item, and if you're not then you should be. But what's the hold up?

You feel like you're losing it, certain you can feel their presence, lurking, creeping closer, and once they consume your thoughts and have you twirling your hair, kicking your feet as you lay on your bed daydreaming of the what ifs, their energy fades and you begin chasing it down. You're not the obsessive type either. You do not chase, you attract. And I promise you that what you are doing does not constitute as chasing. The person you're dealing with is. It's like their throwing their line into your pond, and you nibble at their bait, but when they fail to reel you in you simply let go. It'll take more than bait to catch you, and I think they're catching on.

We've heard it all before, but it really is them, not you. Something is holding them back even though they want to rush in. Inside them is two knights in the midst of a tug of war. One is rearing to go and wants to reach out and take action. The other is cautious, shy, and wants to take it slow. But the fierce warrior feels a little scared they'll scare you away, and the steady feels a little scared you'll slip through their fingers due to what to you looks like indecision. Please allow this person some time to transmute their thoughts and feelings into a solid offer and determination. They may feel woefully uncertain of your feelings, too. Whilst the chemistry is undeniable, they're certainly overthinking it.

For some of you there could be a power imbalance or other outside circumstance that is causing this extraordinary caution. I'm getting a variety of options, so I'll simply list off several: they could be your boss or colleague, a mentor, an ex of a friend or a sibling, the crush of a friend, a friend of a sibling, someone who is currently taken, going through breakup or divorce. Either way this feels like it goes against the status quo or requires some secrecy and caution on both sides. Besides the shufflemancy song I will also give you the song Starcrossed Losers by The Fratellis because there is a distinct Romeo and Juliet element to this and I keep hearing this song as I'm reading the energy. It's like mutual pining, but there's a need to tiptoe around each other and dance only at a masquerade where anonymity allows you to engage freely. The risk may seem great, but the reward would be even greater. For some of you who are older this could lead to marriage. The risk seems to go both ways, too, which makes the tension feel that much more tangible.

I think this is the one time playing some games might actually work in your favour, and I don't take such things lightly as clear and direct communication is something I revere, and you may do too, but this one time I think ignoring that bait and giving them space to develop a little bit of fear that you'll slip away will create enough friction to light up a sense of urgency for them, leading them to drop the fishing rod altogether and simply dive in to get to you. So take a breather, live your life, speak when spoken to and hold your energy steady and available, but refuse to entertain the push and pull dynamic and demand they get out of their head and spring into action. They may need the wake-up call. There may be plenty of fish in the sea, but they certainly don't just jump into the boat on their own, so don't make them make you do all the work.

Additional details:

Hangman (the game), hair changes (colour, cut), investments, unexpected income, first snow, oversized sweaters, bruises, blue pen, dietary needs (deficiencies, anemia, veganism, gluten free, allergies), fall/winter jacket, navy blue and army green, pets, home decor, thrift shops, couches (sleeping on the couch, couch surfing, sleepovers), butterflies, funerals, spotify playlists, keys, Switzerland, Ireland, Georgia, Midwest USA, Iceland, Norway, India. Virgo/Leo/Pisces/Scorpio/Cancer, 222/333/888/23, July/August/October.

02.

Shufflemancy: 'tis the damn season by Taylor Swift

The song I got for this one feels oddly specific. Perhaps you have some core memory tied to autumn or winter, a past love or heartbreak, loss of a loved one either literally or through ties being cut and going your separate ways. Either way, you may be feeling nostalgic around the time you're reading this, and it feels bittersweet. You may say it's mostly bitter, but there is a sweetness present too, even though you're pushing it as far down into the depths of the darkest corner of your mind like a dusty box of memories you'd like to forget. Your recently played songs may say otherwise, though. You could find your thoughts drifting away when you're not fully occupied and busy, to people and places you couldn't revisit without triggering some still-sore feelings.

Another thing that seems to be patchworked into this quilt is someone new, but it feels like the threads are quite loose. Maybe you ripped one square out some time ago and found a replacement, but it doesn't fit quite right. It could be a very confusing circumstance, a situationship, a talking phase that keeps going on and on and on, without anything set in stone. Perhaps that was alright by you at first, this could be a rebound or a new chapter you ventured into with a carefree and light heart, not expecting much more than some pleasant times for the short-term. But things got quite blurry fast, didn't it? Like a line drawn in the sand much too close to the shoreline getting washed away by the rising tides. You may have settled into a comfortable agreement of nothing serious, only for one or both of you catching feelings, but neither doing anything about it.

For some of you, you may feel like you're being treated like a significant other, as though you're in a commited relationship, like those boundaries of previous agreements were crossed and you entered something more, but seemingly unbeknownst to them. You yearn for clarity, a yes or a no, because you're growing tired of wondering what this is and where it's going. You could desire commitment and parting ways equally because this middle ground is hazy and unsettling in its indecision. You're the irresistible force and they're the immovable object. A strange paradox that you wish to see a solution for, for better or worse.

I see you tossing and turning, restless and wanting something tangible. Like you're surrounded by only mist, stumbling in the dark with nothing solid around you to hold on to. Not even the ground beneath your feet feels entirely solid. Like you're existing in space, no up or down, no corners, no left or right. You have more questions than answers, and every unanswered question breeds more questions. The person you're dealing with can't even be described as being hot and cold, just lukewarm. Neither refreshing or cozy.

Don't give your time and energy away for free. If you yearn for more, demand it. And move on if it isn't granted. Beware of trying to fill the void left by one with another if they simply don't fit. If you lost a corner piece of the puzzle, a centerpiece won't fit, and ramming it in won't complete the picture. There is potential with this piece and it could be more than what it is, but you need to redraw the lines and confront them with your needs.

Additional details:

Glowing stars, LED lights, layered clothes, chokers, mullets, lgbt, exams, train rides, group activities, events, poetry, doorbell ringing, left on read, birthday presents, social media (ig), psychology, internships, tattoos, cartoon characters, comic books, cobblestone, cute socks, chapped lips, butterflies and moths, bats, storms, power outages, Austria, Germany, Brazil, South Africa, Ghana, Japan. Scorpio/Aquarius/Aries/Virgo/Capricorn, 444/555/25, May/November/December.

03.

Shufflemancy: Rabbit hole by AViVA

I won't lie, this one felt very uncomfortable to read. Do you feel like your past actions were mistakes after all? Like you picked the wrong route in a game and only recently realised you shouldn't have gone down this path and wish you could go back and change your decision? You felt so sure about it back then. It was the clearest path forward, it made so much sense. One path was paved and lit up so well, had wonderful opportunities and helping hands along the way. The other one was overgrown, covered in exposed roots threatening to make you stumble and fall, it was dark and winding and wouldn't let you see further than the next bend, no telling what lurks behind the next tree.

You may have recognised, or you are beginning to realise, that you chose wrong. Not entirely by your own volition, but guided by people you thought had true and good intentions. They served their own good above yours, didn't they? You may feel ashamed that you were lead astray so easily. That jagged path looks so much more exciting now, like an adventure full of surprises and growth and opportunities, whilst the path you're on feels plain, pre-determined, and most of all not your own.

Some of you may have cut ties with significant people as you parted ways, and that may haunt you now. Don't be too harsh on yourself. Sometimes we need to take detours to learn lessons separate from those closest to us. When our paths part, they may cross again in the future. Not every goodbye is forever, some words and actions can be forgiven, and reconciliation is never entirely off the table so long as two people agree to meet there to discuss.

I see you walking down a street and coming across ghosts from your past. Not wholly unpleasant, but unnerving nonetheless. For some of you the roles may be reversed, and you are the ghost spotted by somebody who once betrayed you somehow, and now bear witness to the person you grew into once they removed themselves, and see the life you now lead without them. There is a mix of regret, shame, and envy here. Whichever of you chose the beaten path now sees the other leading a life of excitement and adventure, and wish they had done things differently.

This energy may come to a head in the next few months from the time you read this. You, or they, may reach out. If not for reconciliation then at the very least for closure. It would be best to forgive and agree to be cordial even you don't decide to give each other another chance. As for those snakes you may have discovered around you, do not hesitate to cut people off that don't serve your best interest. Don't give up your time and effort to fair weather friends when you desire mutual respect and the ride or die experience. You deserve better, and have all the opportunities to find better as long as you cut dead weight loose so that you can truly soar.

Additional details:

Bookshops, stationery, notes, emails, messenger bags, roses, animal crossing, picture frames, scrapbooks, younger siblings, book series and fandoms related to books or tv shows, cosplay, photography, Hannah Montana, blonde or light brown hair, spirituality, letters, diary entries, neat handwriting, tinder, Italy, Hungary, Scandinavia, South Korea. Capricorn/Sagittarius/Libra/Aries/Scorpio, 000/555/411/2020, January/May/November/December.

04.

Shufflemancy: Candy by Robbie Williams

With all these delays on so many fronts, you'd think the boss music would quiet down too, right? But alas, you may have felt it in your bones, been constantly alert and ready for something, but that something seems to be taking its sweet time to make itself known. There's been anticipation in the air despite the rains of doubt, delays, rejections, and all kinds of curveballs coming down on you. It's frustrating to know exactly where you're going and how to get there, but having stop signs and road work ahead at every turn preventing you from moving in that direction.

You've been very hard on yourself as of late. Seek help if you need it, but most of all be merciful with yourself and don't carry fault when it's not yours to carry. You've done enough, and if the world won't bend, you don't have to. Sometimes we throw ourselves at doors that just will not open, and it's not our fault but the doors for not budging. Don't hesitate to ask for non-professional help either. You have more listening ears than you think, just be clear whether you need affirmation or advice, because you may feel too vulnerable for the latter if you feel like you've already tried everything. Nobody wants to collapse after a race of which they weren't the victor, only to be told to get back up and run another mile. You don't need to have that kind of tenacity and willpower. It's okay to rest, to need a hug and a good cry and some understanding, kind words.

Take a well-deserved break, and most of all let others treat you to something nice. You may have trouble accepting not just help, but doting too. Do not get bashful and turn down offers now, but accept them as blessings that you are well within your right to accept and enjoy wholeheartedly without guilt or shame. A little break may also be just what the doctor ordered, as distancing yourself from the stormy seas for higher ground could result in better perspective and understanding of how and where things went wrong, and how to traverse the waves when you get back to it. Things that wouldn't budge before may finally start moving along once you've caught your breath and have the energy to try again. If you've been looking to relocate, the previous struggles and clouds of doubt could lift as if on their own, and by opening yourself up to assistance you could find more hands to help you push those boudlers uphill.

You may also have had an inkling about the following, as you're a very observant and intuitive energy easy for me to read, but the boss music you have been hearing as of late may be drumming up the entrance of a significant new person or group of people, arriving into your life soon. This person, or these people, may be older than you, or more experienced in some way. This will feel like being taken under the wing(s) of someone, a mentor like figure, who can show you the way where you have previously been running blind and lost on your own.

An important thing to note, however, is that they won't do everything for you, which at first may be disappointing as you've been doing everything all by yourself for so long, but these people, or this person, will show you the way and walk alongside you, ready to be leaned on when necessary, but not dictate the pace at which you go at, nor what you do, when you do it, and how you do it. You'll quickly find this a better alternative, as ultimately you want to be able to say you made it on your own, and see the fruits of your labour with your name on them, and you truly deserve the applause for all your hard work and efforts.

Additional details:

Travelling, airplanes, dinner, shopping sprees, new shoes, electric blue, orange, sunsets, Paramore, vtubers, ASMR, drawing/painting, digital art, plushies, fruity scents, dogs, D&D, astrology, paperwork, therapy, social work, bills, moving, new coworkers/classmates, Roman empire/mythology, kitchen magick, the UK, USA, Australia, Mexico, Honduras, Peru. Sagittarius/Libra/Taurus/Gemini, 111/222/12/21, April/September/December.

05.

Shufflemancy: Brightside by Arrested youth

Feels like a very strange time, doesn't it? Like you're putting on a pair of new shoes identical to an old pair you're replacing with the new. They look the same, but don't yet fit quite right and need to be broken in. You may be relearning a lot of things. Maybe you got out of a long relationship, romantic or platonic, even familial, or moved away to a brand new place, and nobody told you this transition into a new chapter, a new way of life, would come with growing pains as you learn to live your own life as a separate entity from someone, some people, or circumstances. It's equally empowering and unnerving. You can do more of what you want, but perhaps you forgot or never had the chance to quite figure out what that is.

Allow yourself the time and space to break this new chapter in. Don't rush and give yourself blisters from trying to run too fast too soon. Trace your steps back to things you used to enjoy, the things, places, and people that brought you joy, and used to sink your time into more back when time was a more abundant currency. Those in your life who understand what you're going through will also be less demanding and be more forgiving when you go through trial and error in terms of how to delegate your time.

And by all means, embrace opportunities to meet new people, but if you got out of a long-term romantic relationship I would caution against starting anything new too soon. You just got out of commitment waters, and you're still soaked and dripping, and this is likely to attract people who want long-term, but until you're dry and healed from the past, it would do both you and prospective partners more harm than good to get into something new. You need time to be whole within yourself, not as a part of a duo, but your own individual with options to grow in any direction you want without a say from anybody else. Even a short-term fling will hinder this growth, because if you're barely out of the commited mindset, it'll be difficult to not revert back to it only to feel cornered again and begin fighting for your freedom.

Some of you may have eyes on somebody new. Ask yourself if they're just a shiny new version of the old, with upgrades that undo much of the bugs and grievances of what you had before. Perhaps they are better in many ways, even ideal, but you could end up measuring them up to the old flame without thinking, and nobody deserves to be compared to other people. Nobody deserves to feel like a new iphone, because they will learn quickly that another one will be in the making the moment they're on the market, and fearing replacement somewhere down the line is neither fun or healthy. That's not to say you would keep lining up for new iphones every time, but do take time to really finetune what it truly is that you look for in a partner, and be specific.

Someone who originally makes your heart flutter may instead have potential to become a lifelong friend. Somebody you can rely on, who will tell it like it is, guide you, be there for you, and truly show through not just words but actions that they have your best interest at heart. This person may teach you a lot, and broaden your horizons in ways you previously thought impossible. They could be younger than you, or simply more childlike and carefree than you, but you will be amazed by their strength, courage, and resilience, and they may hold quite a bit of life experience, which they easily wield to help you make your life look like one you can feel proud of. It would be a shame to reduce a life companion to a romantic partner when sometimes platonic love can get your farther and help you reach the love you deserve. Don't rush to get the bride or groom when the bestman or maid of honour is right in front of you. They may quite literally hold the key to your next relationship with the various doors they can open for you.

Additional details:

Vikings, runes, the moon, Star wars, video games, co-op games, boardgames, nostalgia, guitars, cereal, tech, numbers and codes, inside jokes, mattress on the floor, solitude, fire, smoke, coffee, oatmeal, fasting, red/ginger hair, cats, packages and deliveries, medicine and vitamins, blueberries, rings, camping, mermaids, autumn equinox, aurora borealis, ghosts, the word "issue", Canada, the Philippines, Malaysia, New Zealand, UAE, Eastern Europe, Chile. Cancer/Pisces/Gemini/Capricorn, 13/999/666, February/March/July/September.

06.

Shufflemancy: Sweater weather by The Neighbourhood

Emotionally you may feel stuck between a rock and a hard place. Things outside of yourself seem to be dictating what you can and cannot do or say or feel. You could be grieving lost love, but it feels less like you miss the person, and more like you miss how things were when things were fine. But you're also learning how much of that was a facade, a lie, or plain and simply a monotonous kind of "good enough". You may have felt settled and lulled into a sense or security of something that seemed so stable, and willfully overlooking any lack, flaw, and bump in the road and something arbitrary. Told yourself nobody's perfect, life isn't like in the movies, love is more stable without fire and butterflies, the routine is safe and the unknown is scary. That didn't pan out very well, did it? For some of you, you may have been cheated on, betrayed, lied to, hurt by somebody you never knew bore claws. Others of you, perhaps you realised all this time you were becoming more of a shell of your former self and living up to the expectations and standards set by someone else. For a few of you, this reading is moreso about a project or opportunity than a person, so take what resonates and flip it as necessary.

Amidst this grief and confusion, however, there seems to be a light, and if we allow for a litte bit of a cliché, it may feel as if it's the light at the end of the tunnel. For some of you it's possible the arrival of someone new into your life really shook things up, and they served as a catalyst to help you see how dreadful your life has become. This shake-up could've been quite the whirlwind and caught you off guard. This person feels new in more ways than one. Perhaps you previously stuck to more stable and reliable people, those who gave you a sense of familiarity as they reflected some of your own traits, who fit you like a glove. Your energy feels solid, meticulous, responsible, and very steady. You would understandably be shocked to the core when the wind suddenly picks up and it begins to hail and shine all at once in a life so frequently overcast and dull, yet predictable and safe.

A part of you has enjoyed the change of pace, right? There is something exciting and invigorating about the unpredictable nature of this hurricane hitting your shores. It can be triggering a bit of a saviour complex in you, too. One that seeks to calm the storms and tame the winds. You may find yourself protective of this person, but you're learning not to underestimate them. They may have been through a lot, but perseverance is something they pride themselves in. At first you may think of them as a fool caught up in storms of their own making, but eventually it dawns on you that they are more in control than they let on, and despite the turbulence they face they have unique ways to handle things all on their own. Your desire to protect and save them is insistent, but transmutes into assistance instead over time, and you may even become inspired by their tenacity and their wild ways.

There could be a brief period of radio silence between you and this person in the near future, which forces you to come to terms with your feelings. Divine timing seems to be at play, as the sudden disappearance of the sun forces you stare into the dark of the night and face your own shadow. Here you may learn that the two of you could be a perfect match. Opposites attract, don't they? You're similar enough to have mutual respect, love, and understanding, but different enough to keep things interesting and to cover your bases. Your weaknesses are their strengths and vice versa. Think of how far you could both go if you joined forces. This realisation, along with admitting to yourself that hiding your heart and staying in the corner licking old wounds forever will do you no good, will set you out on a path towards a future that firstly looks more like one built for you by you, and secondly gets you farther, faster, with better rewards and real gold in the pot at the end of the rainbow.

Perhaps it won't be easy, but I advise you to step outside of your comfort zone. You may wish to delay, wait and see, to take things slow and steady as you normally do, but know that this time that simply won't do. This is a great challenge with promise of even greater rewards, but it feels time sensitive. Just as the night gives way for the sun to rise, so too does the sun set to cast the day into darkness. You may dig your heels in and object, insisting good things are worth waiting for, but let me flip the script for a different perspective: would you like to stand in the pouring rain, waiting for somebody to open the door and let you in, or would you eventually stop ringing the doorbell and seek shelter elsewhere? Make up your mind before they do, and take action accordingly.

Additional details:

Tickets (events, travel), hoodies, gym, weightlifting, pets, plants, rice and noodles, disney, old cartoons, expecting/checking for messages, sleepless nights, sweet scents, coconut, vinyls, denim jackets, Brokeback Mountain, redbull, espresso, hiking, foraging, cooking, silence, empty house or office, greyscale, hair ties/scrunchies, 8-bit games, metal, Liechtenstein, Lithuania, Montenegro, the Maldives, Zimbabwe, either the state of Georgia or the country, Virgo/Cancer/Leo/Aquarius, 111/666/777/10/30, June/July/October.

[maxs-guesswork]

An Untitled Mecha - SciFi Horror experiment.

I wrote this in a spurt of inspiration I felt after watching this video. I think want to do more with this, but I'm not sure what. I think it's decent enough as a standalone now that I'm happy putting it out there. First time I've actually shared my writing since the timeline, and even that was more of an outline than something I'd actually consider my writing.

Anyway, critisism is welcome as long as you're nice about it. Hope you enjoy! If you do, please please please please please tell me. If you like it enough to ask for more, that will probably give me a big chunk of motivation to write more.

Thud thud.

“Yeah it’s stuck up there alright.”

“We told you it would be. Several times, in fact.”

“It’s different to see it myself.”

Zach earned an annoyed sigh. Servos whirred as he stepped back from the floating truck. Floating isn’t really the right word, more ‘pinned in the air.’ The thing didn’t budge a millimeter when he gave it a good, solid push. Wasn’t like he wasn’t strong enough, the metal hulk he piloted could’ve lifted that truck up and thrown it like a baseball. Alright maybe that was a bit of an exaggeration, but the point stood. If that thing wasn’t proper stuck, he’d have moved it at least a meter or two with that force. The thing really was stuck, and hung at an odd angle. It was rolled a bit to the left and with it’s front end facing downwards. The green canvas over top of the rear bed was torn, ripped up by flying debris presumably. Or maybe some wildlife, though Zach wasn’t sure if that was really feasible. Likewise, the windows of the cabin were all shattered, blasted violently inwards. The whole body bore dents at regular intervals, but they didn’t appear to be what held the thing aloft. About 4 of the 6 tires were flat, and all the hubcaps hung out at odd angles. Cap, waiting indignantly, stared Zach down for the whole of his investigation.

“Are we going to move on, or are you too infatuated with your new toy?”

“We’ve been here all of maybe thirty seconds, Cap. Have some patience.”

With one final whack, Zach finally stepped back from the aerially pinned vehicle. He’d only been outside the walls for a few minutes, but it was already the most interesting experience of his life. Certainly worth all those waivers he’d skimmed, and signed. Deciding the young man was quite finished with his investigation, Cap wordlessly started to move on. Alerted by the sound of his footsteps, and little else, Zach turned to catch up.

Sunlight filtered through the leaves as they traversed the overgrown forest. They followed a dirt path on the forest floor, the trees having been carved out of the way by older expeditions. They still hit some of the higher branches that grew from trees on either side, though. Stealthy they were not.

“Forest floor’s a bit harder than that asphalt you’ve been training on, eh?” Cap jabbed when Zach briefly stumbled.

“Laugh it up, old man.” He replied simply, not doing as good a job of hiding his peevishness as he thought.

They trekked in silence for awhile, Zach quickly becoming more attuned to the rough terrain. They’d be on higher alert if they went by the books, but this area wasn’t far from the walls and there was plenty of cover from the ‘new’ emplacements along their tops. Anything untoward in that area would probably get misted before it got anywhere close to the duo. They both knew this, but neither would acknowledge it out loud. In fact, the after action report would list them as being near perfectly vigilant, with negligible lapses in attention. Even the less than personable relationship between them wouldn’t stop their shared interest of keeping the brass off their backs.

Eventually the tree line thinned, and they came to a large clearing. The brush was a bright and healthy green in the strong sunlight, and there were very few clouds in the sky. Zach wished he could’ve popped out right there to enjoy the weather and scenery. It’d be pretty difficult to cover up an unauthorized hatch opening in that after action report though. Damned thing was the biggest buzzkill he’d ever met. Plus, if he turned around the looming black mass of the walls would rather spoil the illusion of peaceful wilderness he so wished to cultivate. There were even some flowers and small wildlife here. They’d been protected by proxy, their proximity to the walls meaning that nothing untoward ever reached this little grove of life. Zach watched his footfalls to try and keep from disturbing the peace any more than he had to.

Onward they moved, through and out of the clearing, returning to the treeline. There was little here to betray the state of the world. Other than the truck. Wilderness that survived in the vague no-man’s land that sat between the city and the Intruders. Zach felt a brief swell of pride at being part of the thing that kept this beauty alive, before remembering how quickly it’d get paved over should the need or even simply the desire to do so arose. ‘Bit of a mixed bag, humanity,’ he thought. Then they reached their destination, and his philosophical musings were unceremoniously cut short.

Even through the artificial image on his screens, his eyes seemed to want to look anywhere else. That strange non-light and the instinctual reaction to it was dampened only slightly by the artificial barrier. Zach had no doubt that even without the screen he’d be able to trace the thing’s outline by what directions it hurt to look in. The fringes had an odd color distortion, where colors seemed to vibrate atop one another. Another no man’s land between the Intruders and everything else, one much more violent.

Cap’s voice was almost level when he called over the coms. “Ready?”

“Ready,” Zach replied, the bantering and rivalry gone now.

Simultaneously, jets of strange white-black fire leapt from the nozzles of the weapons mounted upon the machines’ great shoulders. That color barrier vanished among the flames, and then that non-light splotch on reality began to recede as well. After only a couple minutes of dousing the Wound was gone. Five minutes after that they stopped firing. The ground was seared now, and some normal fire burned around the periphery of where the Wound once was. Cap wordlessly moved to stomp them out. A few seconds later, Zach followed suit.

Their trek back home was a lot quieter.

[justtothesea]

hi! I just found your peterick reclist and i love it so much! do you have any movie au fics?

aw yay! I'm glad you like it, here's a few favs I go back and read often from the list:

As You Wish by lazenby (~19k words)

Princess Bride AU featuring a lot of bandom guys listening as Patrick tells them a story. 💜 I sorta love it a lot.

“I know,” Patrick says, clutching at Pete just as tightly. “I'm sorry. I wanted to tell you, you have to believe that. But I couldn't. Nobody could know Roberts had let me live. And I thought once I got enough money, I'd retire and find you.” He pauses, then quietly says, “I didn't think you'd get engaged. I didn't think you'd fall out of love with me.”

Pete pushes back, angry. “Might I remind you that you were dead?!” Pete says, throwing his hands in the air in frustration. “And it's not like I love her or anything!”

*

And Then the Aliens Killed Bill Murray by misspamela (~5k words)

Obviously a Groundhogs Day AU. Did you know I'm actually obsessed with that movie? And this fic...

Patrick stared at him. "You come over and wake me up to convince me that you're stuck in a space-time loop and all you really want to do is what we were going to do anyway?" "Pretty much, yeah," Pete said, closing his eyes. "I'm tired, Patrick. Really tired. I just..I'm taking a break this time around. Sing me the words?" He heard Patrick taking a deep breath and sighing, then the familiar sounds of harrumphing and grumbling that meant Patrick was getting ready to sing. Pete smiled. This was exactly what he needed.

*

Turned to Steel by awkwardgturtle (~6k words)

Iron Man AU (of the first movie) that I have no biases about considering it was written by a friend. Her writing just is that good. I'm not kidding.

Patrick was decidedly not moping when Pete came home late. He was simply staring intently at his shoelaces. They were bright yellow and in sharp contrast to his red shoes.

“I don’t know what Joe told you,” Pete said when he found Patrick sitting on the kitchen counter, “but I wasn’t with anyone.” Patrick jumped down. “I don’t care, Mr. Wentz,” he muttered. “It’s not my business.”

*

Truman Show 'Verse by awkwardgturtle (~36k words)

Like it says, it's a Truman Show AU. Pete's whole life is a show, with all the angst that you could imagine.

Her hand flies to her chest in an overdramatic manner. “You didn’t hear? The eruption! Volcanic ash has been grounding planes for weeks!” “My friend Gabe just got home from Japan a week ago.” The blood drains from her face a split second before she laughs nervously. “Oh, those skies are clear, of course.” “Then we’ll go there,” Pete decides. Patrick adores sushi, plus there are plenty of beaches around to relax on and a beautiful city to explore. It sounds perfect. “No.”

*

No More Than Three Feet Apart by coricomile (locked to ao3, ~10k words)

Labyrinth AU with Gabe as the Goblin King and Pete, the babe I'm reminded of...

“Give Pete back,” he choked out, eyes still screwed shut. “I beat your fucking labyrinth, I won. Just stop.” Cold fingers pressed against his cheeks. “Stop!” Patrick lashed out, swinging blindly. Something solid hit the ground, and the air tensed. Patrick opened his eyes. Gabe was sprawled on the stone, lifted up by his elbows. “You’re nothing to me.” “Patrick-“ “No! You’re meaningless.” Patrick took a deep breath and shook his head. “You have no power over me.”

That's all I've got for now! There's more on the list if you search for movie!au using find in page, and more tags to search for too. If anyone has any other similar recs please send them my way!!! I'm way behind on my peterick fic knowledge 😭

[ranger-rai]

Sometimes a rangers gonna fight!

1. The Weather Trio, getting real tired of their constant natural disasters. They don't fight in just one location and even if they do, they can still affect areas very far away. If they wanna fight don't be surprised if others wanna get in on it.

2. While helping people is nice, there are so many people who are just rude, arrogant, or very disruptive and have no respect for nature. People who have ever been caught or consistently do stuff like this should have a consistent string of bad days, and they won't go away until they do something good for the the environment.

3. @professor-fanalia i could take you in a fight!

4. Rai has been bitten by so many things, but when he was a teen he definetly put his foot in a sleeping Mawile's jaw once, he left with a sprain but he lost the shoe.

5. Accidently gave Eddie a black eye when he was telling Minnie about a new movie he was excited about, got a little too worked up and punched him in the face.

6. Absolutely willing to take on the ghost type. They aren't too strong physically and there are a lot more ways to counter them, it's their powers that make them tricky. Also things like metal can affect them so weapons are a viable option. Fighting an Ursaring would be a very bad idea for Rai. Subduing one isn't impossible but hand to hand, he would be struggling.

7. Minnie, she would probably stab me or herself first. I'd imagine she'd get some pay out of this so I'd let her set the price, but it wouldn't be cheap thsts for sure.

8. Rai doesn't put condiments on his sandwiches. But when he does it's BBQ.

9. Skip might accidentally overcharge a device that Rai is using and it blows up on him or Sylvester takes a nap and rolls over on Rai.

10. Well, you meet a lot of troubling people when you work in public safety, so plenty of people have made that list. The first and worst, however, would be someone from Rai's teen years. This guy Ron, they used to hang out a lot, get into trouble, and just be kinda bad when Rai was going through it. Ron left Rai holding the bag on something, and it ended up getting him in trouble. They separated since, and Rai has kept tabs on him. He hasn't changed, and Rai just feels sorry for him, but he wouldn't hesitate to punch him in the face if he could.

11. There's a tape dispenser on my desk, it's got that sharp edge and a good weight to it so I guess some cutting and bashing with it.

12. A pink bottle of 91% alcohol spray. Burns like a MF and has a very "auspicious" shape to it.

13. You ever wanna chew on a wire? There's something about their texture that makes you wanna bite it.

14. Human-like Pokemon should eat off of plates! Also people need to chill out with these outrageous pizza toppings. Not only are people doing pineapple but I've seen other fruits and I'm gonna lose it.

15. My sister. Hope it gets on her documents in her briefcase and when she goes to a meeting they are all covered in it.

16. Well I'm not really into guys, but Crasher Wake is a really fun gym leader to work with, definitely a nice father figure that kids look up to, and I respect him. That's about as deep as it goes for me, haha.

17. Currently, a rock in my shoe.

18. Shiny pokemon are not that rare. It's because people keep catching them and showing them off that they are "more rare" in the wild. If you left more in the wild, the genetics that make them shiny would occur more, and we might even see more variations as well.

19. I'd absolutely go back to last week and take the last everything bagel at work, I was totally hungry but I left it because I thought someone else might want it. I'm pretty sure it got thrown out or half eaten.

20. Well, the least cool would simply be all the times I've been poisoned or attacked by pokemon. Nothing major happens regularly. I wouldn't really call it cool, but when my family's business exploded and left by back scarred from the flames. Unfortunately, I lost someone close to me from that when I was young. Coolest would be when I fought side by side with a Victini to free it and a bunch of captured pokemon that were about to be smuggled. Victini shared its power with me, and we managed to rescue everyone. Before that, however, I was on the verge of death and was ready to accept it.

21. If it wasn't for the fact that it is illegal, people who yell at kids aggressively, or teens who try and antagonize people because they know they can't fight back.

22. In a ball pit at a fast food joint. I am not a cop, but when I'm wearing my uniform people think I am, and sometimes I need to help with civil disturbances and some people just love to pick fights, the man jumped into the ball pit with his geodude who was pretty confused and started sinking into the plastic balls. Kuriboh, thankfully, was able to deal with the guy quickly, and he was detained by the actual police.

23. Runt, closely followed by Skip.

24. Rita...

25. I kinda have one, but if I could choose I'd pick portals and just scratch my back in the most perfect spots.

neils super cool pokéblr ask game ✨

legendary pkmn u most wanna kick the shit outta

you get 1 wish but only if u use it for spite. what is it

@ another user n start some beef

stupidest injury uve ever gotten

stupidest injury uve ever GIVEN

fight to the death 1-on-1 not a battle im talkin a FIGHT choose yr opponent: ursaring or ghost

whos yr best friend n how much money would it take for u to stab em (knife is complementary)

worst food crime uve committed

pick 1 of yr pkmn. whats the funniest way it could kill you rn

take a sec to consider ur shitlist. whos been on it the longest

object in arms reach thatd make the best impromptu weapon

object in arms reach thatd make the FUNNIEST impromptu weapon

most tempting forbidden food (revives soap pods lava that kinda thing)

dumbest hill ur willin to die on

u get an envelope fulla glitter. who u mailin that to

gym leader/e4 member/fuckin league guy idk what y'all have ur gayest for

what the fuck is yr problem

pkmn fact everyone else is wrongest abt

pettiest thing u would do w a time machine

rank all the times u almost died from coolest to least cool

bare minimum act of dipshittery that would provoke u to fistfight a stranger in a shopping mall

absolute dumbest place uve ever had a pkmn battle

which of yr pkmn has the fewest brain cells

which if yr pkmn is most likely to kill someone else for kicks

u get to pick 1 superpower. what is it and whats the dumbest thing u do w it

[kinetic-elaboration]

May 5: Finishing Three Men on the Bummel

I finished Three Men on the Bummel this week, and then read the introduction, which I finished today. I feel like I've been hanging out with J. and friends for so long and I will miss them. But I'm also ready to move on to other books and genres.

I did like Bummel and I'm glad I read it, but it definitely was as good as Boat. Like most sequels, it didn't have quite the magic spark of the original. I think my biggest issue with it was that it didn't have as much of a plot, or (since I don't know if plot is really the right word for either of them) a definite through line, like the river itself was in Boat. I didn't feel as much as I was traveling with the three friends, but rather like I was listening to Jerome's thoughts on Germany, which he sometimes connected very vaguely to the trip itself. And this was increasingly true as the story went one. By the last couple of chapters, it was basically just a treatise on German culture. That's fine, but it lacks the... intimacy of the original, I suppose is the word. Also my favorite parts of both books are the comic adventures, and even though objectively there were plenty in Bummel, still I had the feeling like there were less of them.

Also, no Montmorency :( Presumably, he'd been drawn home to the angels.

I appreciate Jerome's love of German culture, even if it did feel a little... repetitive, like all the details spoke to basically the same theme, of a people who like order and authority and rules etc. Reading the book while knowing the context of 21st century German history was also really weird. Even a lot of the positive traits that Jerome described read differently to me in that context. And certainly the more critical chapters at the end of the book, in which Jerome describes what is to him a troubling devotion to authority and duty, militarism, and deference to the police, were chilling. He even says something along the lines of 'deference to authority is fine enough if you have a good leader, and you just have to hope they always will!' It really just read like the seed conditions for a fascist state, honestly, just waiting for the igniting force of WWI and its aftermath.

Not to oversimplify too much.

Reading the introduction was really interesting as an insight into both Jerome's personal life and history (really unusual guy with a diverse background of careers and interests!) and the context of the books themselves. I think it's easier for me to read Boat out of the context of its time because the humor, both in its style and source, and general themes are so universal. Also I simply don't know that much context. Learning just how much it WAS of its time, capturing a very specific period of social life on the Thames, was very cool. I also think dissections of humor--putting into words: why is this funny?--are fascinating. I also liked how the introduction pointed out the situational irony in the middle-aged Englishmen going on a biking adventure to escape the normal routines of their lives, only to go to a country full of rigid rules--all of which they then proceed to break. That's a nice overall take on the narrative and gave it a bit more structure for me than I'd naturally picked up on, while also placing the emphasis back on the men and their friendship versus the more travelogue/cultural commentary bits that seemed to overshadow a lot of the work for me.

I also wanted to make a list of my favorite scenes in Bummel but it's late and I'm tired, so, tomorrow instead.

[rviden]

hello!! may I request for hcs for when you get into an argument with the genshin boys (you can choose who!!) and the guys end up saying something hurtful, and your reaction is like "well, if that's what you think, then maybe we shouldn't be together." and walks away (tryna hide a tear,,)?? I'm sorry if this is too specific aah I'm just in the mood for angst ( •́ ‿ ,•̀ ) I really like your characterization!! <333

— 🧧 THEIR S/O BREAKS UP WITH THEM AFTER A RUDE COMMENT THEY MADE

includes — kazuha, tohma, diluc

warnings — angst, pre tohma release

pronouns — they/them

note — in honour of the 2.0 announcement trailer, i included the newest boy to my writing list (tohma by beloved) - i’ve also added baal (or raiden), ayaka, and yoimiya!

KAZUHA

kazuha wasn’t usually confrontational off of the battle field — opting for more serene and peaceful things while resting and spending his time with you

but sometimes when emotions boil over, we say things that we don’t mean, nor wish to say at all — it’s in the heat of the moment type of thing, which is exactly what was happening to kazuha in the present time

“you don’t get it- you never will,” kazuha paced away from you, wanting to put an end to the conversation station as soon as he could.

“and what’s that supposed to mean?” you took strides to catch up with the upset male, desperate to understand his reasoning. “why don’t you face me, and tell me why the hell you won’t let me help-“ the moment your hand made contact with his arm, he turned in fury — something you had never seen him in ever.

“you’re too clumsy, too reckless, and simply not able to withstand that type of battles that would occur!” kazuha’s face was mere inches from your own. “you’re just not enough.”

you weren’t enough.

he was talking about physical ability, but... why did it feel as if he was talking about everything — the way you dressed, the way you acted, the person you are.

he didn’t think you were enough.

“... if- if you think so lowly of me, then i don’t think this is going to work,” your feet slowly brought your body away from the now shocked and calming male, trying to put as much distance as you could between the two of you.

“y/n-“ he reached out for your arm, only to pull back as if he had been shocked as you flinched away from it. “i didn’t mean it like that.”

“well that’s what it sounded like kazuha.”

you never called him kazuha — it was always kaz, or some other nickname — but never kazuha.

“i’ll leave you to your business, and i’ll board with beidou in the morning,” the distance grew greater, and hearts cracked piece by piece. “i hope you find someone who’s enough on your travels.”

kazuha’s heart left with you — the emptiness in his chest product of his own doings, his own words.

it seemed that he was the one not enough for you.

TOHMA

tohma didn’t like to fight, argue, or even cause any sort of pain to you — and in the past if he ever did, it was not by his choice, or it was a complete accident

yet here he found himself, spouting words he didn’t mean, watching the look of anger on your face crumble into hurt and betrayal

tohma was tired — beyond even — with the job that he possessed, and the dedication to match, nights were often spent resting and resetting for the next.

“y/n i really don’t have time for this right now, you know this,” his fingers pinched the bridge of his nose, desperately trying to rid himself of both the anger and headache that clawed at his mind.

“i think you have plenty of time right now — all i’m asking is for you to consider my idea,” you stepped closer to the blonde, brings your hands up to run through his hair in order to help calm him down. “i just want to see you a little more often, even if it’s only a day a week — just more then i see you now-“

his head was yanked away from your hands, and his eyes burned into you like the vision that hung on his hip. “for the last time! i have my duties with the kamisato clan, and they need my dedication and focus — i don’t have time to waste.”

his words didn’t fully click in his head, until he saw your eyes widen in both shock and hurt — and all he could do was watch as your body slowly backed away and shrank into itself, becoming smaller and smaller by the second.

you tried to appear bigger in mere moments after the metaphorical slap to the face — your chin being held high, eyes narrowed, and drawn in tight.

“don’t bother coming home tomorrow, or the nextday, or even the next,” he could see the hurt as you tried to keep your composer. “wouldn’t want you wasting time, now would we?”

“y/n-“

“leave tohma — you have your duties, remember?”

it happened too fast for tohma to handle — one minute you were happily chatting, next the argument broke out, and the next, he had broken the one promise he had made to himself and you.

he had hurt you, one too many times.

DILUC

he was a calm and collected man, trying many other options before it truly came down to a fight — he poked and prodded most times during arguments, but never before had he pointed out things he knew would hurt

maybe that’s why he wasn’t only in shock as he watch the anger turn into sadness and thought, but also at the words that seemed to flow out of his mouth like a river

“dee, please take a break,” your hands worked on his shoulders — thumbs pushing on the knots and sore spots in the muscles, trying anything you could to get the red haired man to relax.

“y/n please — i’ll come to bed in a few more minutes, i just have to finish this-“ the quill was plucked out of his hands before you could finish — now dangling between your own fingertips.

“you said that the yesterday, and the day before, and the day before that — i know you dee — like that back of my hand,” you waved the back of your hand in an example, the smile on your face doing nothing to ease the furrow in his brow.

he was committed to finishing paperwork and documents — and if that meant forgoing a few nights of actual rest and calmness, then so be it.

but you were making that difficult.

“give me that,” diluc harshly grabbed the quill from your hand, not caring or registering if he had hurt you in the process.

he turned back to his work as soon as it was in his hand, but the moment didn’t last long.

“diluc-“ your hand reached down for the quill again, but were quickly shoved back as he stood from the chair.

“would you just give me some space!” his eyes and cheeks gleamed red, similar to the colour of his hair. “i can’t get any actual work done when your clinging to me like an animal in heat!” in the moment, diluc didn’t care if he had hurt you, and that was one of his many mistakes in that moment.

the quietness was tense and uncomfortable — dilucs heavy breathing, and the sound of soft fidgeting being the only things that could be heard.

“i’ll leave you be then,” you turned in that moment, the tears running freshly down your face the second your back was to the man.

diluc didn’t panic at first.

he had hurt you, yes — but you would let him cool down, calm, and finish was he was doing. that was all.

but the empty room that was once occupied by two and the quick feet that turned and walked in the other direction every time he was near — was enough to tell him the truth.

you left him to be on his own.

for good.

[vs-redemption]

Ahhh I just discovered your blog and I love it so much! Sorry to be angsty right off the bat, but can I request an Aizawa x reader where he has to assure them that the reader's interests have value or something along the lines? I get shut down so often when I accidentally gush about stuff I find cool (ladybugs) so I'm unfortunately more reserved now but yeah :)

From Cindy: It is now two hours past my usual bedtime and I don’t think I’m going to make it much longer. Before I sleep though, I am posting this as promised. I did reread it a couple times, but my tired brain isn’t up to full capacity. I hope it’s okay. Also, please don’t let people make you feel bad about the things you enjoy. Seriously, I hate when people do that. There’s enough negativity in the word without the good stuff being taken away on top of that. As long as you aren’t hurting anyone else, like what you like and never be ashamed of it! ♥

Ladybugs Aizawa x Reader

Everyone has those certain things they avoid revealing about themselves at the beginning of a relationship, romantic or otherwise, for fear of scaring the other person away. In some extreme cases, people might want to keep those parts of themselves hidden forever. For you, it was a particular hobby of yours being revealed too soon that made you a little cautious when meeting new people. You had a ready list of suitable answers stored in your brain for the inevitable moment someone asked you about your interests. It wasn’t like you were into something taboo or anything like that. It’s just that you’d been on the receiving end of enough judgmental looks to know it was better to keep that particular information to yourself.

When you first started to get to know Aizawa, you’d stuck to topics you knew he’d be able to relate to like music, movies, and books. It was easy enough to find common ground that way and you wouldn’t have to worry about him thinking you were some kind of weirdo. This strategy worked well for you and it wasn’t long before the amazing man was asking to be your boyfriend. Things between the two of you were really great, and on the random day when he called you up and asked if you wanted to get some ice cream and take a walk in the park, your secret pastime was the furthest thing from your mind. You were just looking forward to having a fun date with the guy you were slowly falling in love with.

“The weather is so nice today!” You sigh happily, walking hand in hand with Aizawa through the park he’d taken you to.

“Yeah, it’s nice,” he tilts his head toward you with a content smile, “I got lucky having today off.”

“You really do work way too hard, Shota,” you tell him seriously. “Between your classes and hero work it’s a wonder you have any free time at all.” He lets out a laugh and nods his head in agreement as a planter full of flowers on the side of the path you were walking on catches your eye. Aizawa notices the shift in your attention and slows down a little so you both could admire them.

“They plant new flowers in this park every couple months,” He mentions offhandedly. “It’s one of the reasons I enjoy coming here. Do you know what kind they are?”

“Geraniums,” you answer automatically as your eyes scan over the plant, a smile growing across your face as you spot a ladybug crawling over one of the leaves. You let go of Aizawa’s hand so you could crouch down and reach out to invite the insect into your palm. “Ladybugs are attracted to plants like this because there are plenty of smaller pests for them to feed on.” You turn to look over your shoulder at him as the ladybug crawls over your fingers. “Did you know they can play dead like possums do?”

Aizawa raises his eyebrows and before he has a chance to respond you realize what you’d said. You place the ladybug back onto the plant and stand up quickly, taking his hand into yours again and offering to continue your walk. Your boyfriend eyes you curiously as you lead him forward. Embarrassment washes over you and you internally berate yourself for being awkward. You try to go back to eating your ice cream normally, hoping to move past the moment quickly.

“I actually didn’t know that,” he replies after a pause. “I’m guessing they do that as a way to avoid getting eaten by predators?”

“Yeah,” you simply nod, knowing you could probably give an entire lecture on the topic but the thought of boring him to death held you back.

“That’s interesting,” Aizawa continues to watch you for a moment. “Are you really into gardening or something? You looked pretty excited for a minute. We can go back over there if you want.”

“No, it’s fine,” You assure him with a smile. “I just… think ladybugs are kind of cool, but I know that’s a bit weird so…”

“I don’t think that’s weird,” Aizawa rubs his thumb over your knuckles.

“Maybe,” you say after a small glance up at him. “Still, I’ve been told that it’s annoying when I go off on tangents and I don’t want to bother you.”

“Hey,” Aizawa stops walking and gives you a serious look. “You’re allowed to talk about the things that make you happy, especially around me.” He lets out a laugh of embarrassment of his own while giving your hand a squeeze. “You’ve never met any of my students but you let me rant about them to you all the time. Is that annoying to you?”

“No! Of course not!” You assure him, a smile blooming on your face. “It’s nice that you’re so passionate about your job and I like seeing the joy on your face when you talk about them.” Aizawa returns your smile and nudges your arm playfully.

“I feel the same way about you,” he confesses. “I want to know all about the things you love. If something is important to you, it’s important to me. And if it brings a smile to your face, that’s even better.” You both continue on your walk as Aizawa hums thoughtfully. “And honestly, nobody should judge you or make you feel like you’re not allowed to talk about things that interest you anyway. Your hobbies make you who you are and if everyone liked the same stuff, life would be extremely boring.”

“Thanks Shota.” You could tell he was being genuine by the look on his face, and it felt nice to have a bit of validation. “It means a lot to hear you say that.”

“I’m not just saying it,” He assures you, “I truly mean it. And unfortunately, there are always going to be people who try to make you feel bad for being happy, but it’s usually because they’re unhappy themselves. It’s easier said than done, but we have to try not to let people like that get us down.” Aizawa leans in to press a chaste kiss to your cheek. “Just remember that you can always come to me to rant and rave about whatever you’d like.” The pep talk was short and sweet, but his words did give you a little more confidence. Perhaps it wouldn’t hurt to be a bit more open about your unique interests in the future.

“So,” Aizawa speaks up again a moment later, “when did you start getting into ladybugs?” You smile at his question, hesitating for just a second before launching into the full story.

[old-hyper-super-clover]

Squeeze that bunny tail!

Part 5 (final part)

Description: The RAD student council as well as the exchange students help out at a bar where, oops, the staff´s dress codes are those sweet bunny outfits that we all know and thirst for. The MCs, Violet and Clover, play a game of who can touch the most bunny tails over the evening without getting caught. Prepare for fluff, funny innuendos as well as my thirst over hot boys in bunny outfits.

This is the finale of this way too long "one shot". Find the prior parts here!

Story continues under the cut. You´re almost finished!!

Continuing to work at the bar for a while, Violet found a surprising guest on the other side of the counter.

“Clover! What are you doing here?"

Clover sank down on one of the chairs.

"A double shot, please" Clover joked, but probably wouldn't say no to a little refresher either.

"Tired?" Violet laughed, handing her a glass of water instead.

"Mhm..." Clover rubbed her face. "I´m slowly running out of energy... Well, how are your squeeze-points doing?"

They exchanged their data. While Violet was doing pretty well with a total of 17 points, Clover had (still) only gathered five points so far.

"Meh... I knew I'd loose" Clover mumbled.

"It's still not too late" Violet tried cheering her up. There's still plenty of time to touch Solom-"

"DONT." Clover shot her giggling friend a glare. "Look, it's not even anything personal, I just... Feel very weird inside when I imagine me walking up to Solomon like this."

Violet's smirk widened.

"You mean like... The fluttery feeling of butterflies in your stomach? Clover, could it be...?! That you lov-"

"I will eliminate you if you end this sentence."

She couldn't hide a smile at the joke, but soon Clover had to realise that her persistence to not squeeze Solomon's tail would have drastic consequences.

"You know...” Violet thought out loud at some point. "We never thought of a price for the winner of our challenge, did we?"

"... Nope."

The ideas kept processing in Violet's head. Then it hit her.

"Or maybe... Rather than thinking of a price, let's do a penalty for the loser."

Clover's eyes wandered up to meet hers, her face curling into a "I don't like where this is going" expression.

"How abooouut... The loser..." Violet began.

"Don't."

"... Has toooo..."

"Please don't."

"...Touch..."

"Why do you hate me."

"... Solomon's tail?" Violet grinned proudly.

"... You really hate me, don't you?"

"Come on, Clover" Violet cheered. "There's still time for you to score some points~!"

Clover wanted to reply something when a weird round of girly giggles caught their attention.

Around the dining tables, a group of female succubi where currently being served by Beel.

But they didn't seem to be interested in the drinks in his hand, but much rather in the man holding them. Even from the bar, the human girls could hear their excited squeals as they kept batting their eyes at the demon.

Clover's head landed on the bar counter in a depressed sigh.

"Whatever... I don't really care about the game anyway..."

In an instant, Violet's whole tone had changed.

"Clover..." She mumbled, voice soft as the patted her friend's head.

"It's been like this the whole evening" Clover grumbled, eyes pointing to the group of succubi. "I can't blame them, but... When I hear them thirsting over Beel, I…"

"Just go up to him" Violet said. "You know Beel, it's not like he'd be interested in some random demons."

The frown on Clover's face deepened. "... And in no random human, either..."

"Stop saying that. You know he likes your company. Likes you."

Clover shook her head.

"Just... Leave me, okay. Thank you, but... I'm just a little angry at myself. I also had so many chances to squeeze his tail but... Yeah..."

Violet clearly remained bothered, but Clover was quick to change the topic.

"Did you get that Luci-butt already?"

"... No" Violet cried. "He dashed away to grab Mammon, and they vanished in the staff room."

"... That's why Mammon was tied to the ceiling fan!" Clover called out. "Explains a lot."

Violet gave a nod, however continuing with her trail of thought.

"It's been quite a while, though... He should have been around the casino area, but wasn't there... And now he's on break, but, again, I have no idea where he is."

"Go search for him" Clover said. "I'll back you up here. I need something to do anyway, so... Go get your man. There's still his tail in need to be squished, right?"

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

They argued a little, but in the end, Violet accepted Clover's offer and excused herself into an early break. Violet was searching through the whole club. Asking some of the brothers, too, but none could give her a clue. She wasn't able to find him anywhere, so in her desperation, she went up to Simeon.

"Hey, Simeon? Have you seen Lucifer anywhere?"

The angel turned to greet her as well.

"Hello", he smiled. "Does he have a shift right now? If not, maybe he is using the restroom."

"Hm... I've been looking for him for a while now, though..."

Simeon mustered her for a moment.

"He might also be outside to catch some fresh air" he continued his trail of thought. "But I fear he might get a cold if he stays out for too long. Would you mind taking care of him?"

"Huh?" Violet's eyes widened in surprise.

"Lucy always had a bad habit of taking too little care of himself. So, could you check on him? I am sure he would be delighted to see you."

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

When Violet pulled open the heavy doors of the bar's back entrance, a head turned towards her immediately.

"Lucifer...!" she called out, looking down on the demon sitting on the stairs.

"Violet... Did something happen?"

He was already in the movement of standing up, worry spreading in his face.

"No no, everything's fine!" Violet quickly assured him. "I just came looking for you."

He stopped mid-motion, but in the end sat down again.

"Why?"

Violet bit her lip. She decided to plonk down beside him.

"I'm also on break now. I thought we could spend it together and relax a little."

She felt his gaze on her, but as soon as she turned to face him, he was looking off into the distance.

"I am pleased to hear you decided to grand me your free time" he smiled. Then, he gave a sigh.

"However... I should probably head back in soon. Someone might need my help-"

"S-stay!"

Violet impulsively grabbed Lucifer's arm before he could escape.

They stared at each other. Until Lucifer let out a breathy laugh.

"Well, if you demand my presence that much... I fear I cannot turn down a request from you."

A little silence came over them. From the side glances Violet threw him, the demon looked kind of... Odd.

"Ah... Is there something you need from me, perhaps?" Lucifer asked. "Or why is it that you want me to stay so badly?"

And from how he looked at her, his perfect attire not shattered, but shreds of exhaustion glistening in his eyes, Violet knew that he wasn't okay.

"I'm good", she replied. "I simply... Wanted to check if you're doing good, too."

Surprise crossed Lucifer's face.

"Of course" he replied. "I am used to working until late."

However, Violet kept inspecting him.

"... Are you worried about me?" he asked. She did not really answer with more than a guilty glance off to the side. "Your worry is misplaced. I am nothing out of the usual."

Violet almost gave a grumbly noise. So he wasn't going to break through his perfect face so easily, huh?

"Okay", she said, tone almost as if she didn't really care. "You know, because I feel kind of exhausted."

Lucifer was hesitating. "... Explain."

"We've been running around for hours" Violet began to list. "The music inside is rather loud, especially near the dance hall. Mammon keeps causing trouble... Well, not only him. It's always tricky dealing with an angry Satan, too, or Beel when he's hungry, or with Asmo when he's... horny..."

The demon interrupted her by giving a huff. He had seen through her plan.

"... So you've come to pity me? Do I seem that weak to you?"

"What? No!" she exclaimed. "I would never think of you as weak!"

She made a little pause. A little nervous, she stretched out her hand to link her pinky finger with his.

"But I... Also don't think it's a sign of weakness to share your exhaustion with others... Let alone to be exhausted in the first place."

His crimson eyes met hers.

"... Why would I be exhausted?" he mumbled. "Dealing with this scumbag of a brother, keeping Beel from illegally eating food supplies without paying for them... Asmo groping strangers, Satan mocking me on purpose... Levi clinging to my side, whining that he wants to go home like some toddler... Oh, did you know Belphie locked himself in one of the toilet stalls to sleep? For two whole hours?" he was waiting for her to laugh, but had to endure her worried expression. "And then there's Lord Diavolo... Mixing his own sparks of crazy into this chaos..."

Mumbling the last part, he looked down on his clothing... Or rather the places where he normally would wear some.

Then his head perked up again.

"Why should I be exhausted?" he asked again. "All that is... Nothing out of the usual..."

Violet's lips curled into a sad smile.

Now she placed his whole hand into her palms.

"You work really hard, Lucifer."

He tried a cheeky smirk. "Words of flattery won't be enough to convince..."

But Lucifer's voice trailed off.

One could even debate that his mouth fell open just a slight bit, seeing the look Violet gave him.

So warm that it truly caught him off guard...

As if admitting his defeat, Lucifer went silent.

He enjoyed how her thumb gently brushed over his hand for a while as he was taking breaths of the fresh midnight air.

Violet was patiently waiting for him until eventually, he would speak up again.

"Aren't you cold?" Lucifer asked. "Your human body surely isn't used to the temperatures of Devildom nights..."

"Huh? No, I'm fine, don't worry about me."

"Oh, surely you are..." The teasing tone in his voice was back. "And I'm sure your outfit is only helping, isn't it~?"

He shot Violet some obvious glances, leading her to instinctively cover her body in a blush.

"Like you're one to talk...!" she mumbled.

"You got me there..." he chuckled. "I would lend you a jacket if I had one, but..."

Lucifer silently gestured at the arm sleeves, shrugging in a manner of "nothin doin".

He got a laugh out of her, and his relief immediately showed on his face.

"Your smiling face will have to keep me warm, then" he said.

Violet's smile turned into a blush immediately.

"Oh~?", he smirked. "A blush is fine as well, thank you~"

Struggling, Violet turned away slightly, trying not to embarrass herself even more.

Then, she felt arms being wrapped around her.

"However, I fear I have to take responsibility for keeping you warm as well..." he murmured close to her ear. "After all, it is my fault you have to sit here..."

The girl turned, and wrapping her arms around him as well, nuzzled her face into his warm skin.

"It's not your fault", she replied softly. "I chose to come and find you."

"... I still don't understand why."

"I told you" Violet smiled. "There's nothing wrong with taking a break from time to time. And if I, in any way, can help you with that, I'd love to do so."

She heard him breathe softly as he was searching for a response.

"... Thank you", he decided to say.

She squeezed him tightly. "You're welcome."

"...Stay like this for a little longer" Lucifer asked of her when it felt as if Violet was trying to pull away.

Of course, she agreed, and so they relaxed into each other’s embrace for a little longer.

Without meaning to, over time Violet's arms were sliding down his body a little, just enough to accidentally brush over something fluffy with her fingertip.

But, oh well, who would even mind gathering points for some silly game when there was something -- or rather, someone else to focus on...

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

They only parted after Lucifer's phone pulled them back into reality.

Sighing, he announced the end of their break.

"I'm glad we are closing soon..." he mumbled and helped Violet stand up. "Although, cleaning the place will probably leave us with another hour of work until we finally get to head home..."

"It will be exhausting… But we'll power through it" Violet assured, squishing his hand in encouragement.

"Yes..." Lucifer nodded.

Then, he pulled her closer one last time, wrapping one arm around her waist while looking down into her eyes.

"However... I would much appreciate it if we could keep our break a secret."

"Uhm..." the girl blinked, confused. "Sure, but may I ask why?"

"No reason in particular... I would simply ask that as a personal favour."

Then, he leaned in closer. Resting his chin on her shoulder, his hand reached to her lower back.

And Violet gave a gasp as she felt how he provocatively played with her bunny tail.

"In return, I will keep your secrets safe, too."

He pulled back, responding to her dazzled expression with a sly smirk, before passing her to open the door.

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

Being the gentleman he was, Lucifer held the door open, smiling at the lady as he gestured her to step inside.

"Thank y..." Violet was about to say,

Then both of them looked inside the kitchen.

Beel stood there, together with Clover, both giggling as they snacked on some sweets.

Violet wanted to smile at the sight… But the "shit, we got caught" expression on both of their faces, paired with Lucifer's tangible anger, made her frown instead.

"... Oops" Clover and Beel pressed out, simultaneously letting go of the meringues they had in their hands.

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

To understand how that situation came to existence, we should go back in time to take a look at Clover's side of the story.

She was cleaning the tables when yet another giggle pulled her out of her thoughts.

The girl felt tired, and had started to count down the minutes left until she could finally go home.

She was really done with life. And those certain giggles made it only worse. She would admit that she wasn't good with things like jealousy.

She just couldn't deal with it.

Not in a way like Mammon, for example, was expressing his tsundere feelings.

No, her way of coping was more... Self hating (like Levi I guess),

And hearing for yet another time how some hot demon girls called a certain waiter over to them drove her insane.

"Do you want to try my cake, Beel~?"

Clover flinched.

She peeked up to see how a demon caressed Beel's arm as she waited for his answer to her question.

Clover couldn't see his face, but, judging from his tone, he was wearing his usual frown.

"... I'm not allowed to eat the food we serve..."

"Oh, don't be like that..." The demon responded, loading some cake onto her fork. "It's my cake now, so I decide who gets to eat it. And I really want yooouuuu..."

She stopped, then one of her friends giggled.

"Are you going to finish that sentence?"

"It's already finished", she purred, seductively winking at Beel before leading the fork up to his face.

Beel was hesitating, for two whole seconds, before chomping down on both, cake and fork.

"Oh... Not again..." He mumbled.

The girls gave a giggle.

"Beel, you're such a beast!" The main (bitch) demon hummed. "That's no good, though... I wanted to feed you another bite, but how, without fork...?"

"Guess you´ll have to do mouth to mouth feeding...", Another chick chuckled.

And as the demon girl stood up to do exactly that, Clover stomped away impulsively.

In her fury, she didn't notice how someone was calling for her. She targeted the table in the most opposite corner possible as someone pulled her arm.

Belphie was staring at her, holding her by her wrist.

"... You're pathetic" he said.

"Thank you, tell me something I don't know yet." Clover pulled her arm out of his grip. "And, what, you've got nothing better to do then watch me be pathetic?"

Belphie blinked in surprise. “I would usually agree that it´s pretty funny to watch you get angry, but I´ve seen you be like this all night. What´s getting you this agitated?”

A deep frown spread on her face, but Clover didn´t answer. So Belphie looked back to Beel.

“Is it because of the succubi? Because of Beel?”

“… Please, leave me alone…”

She didn’t see his worried expression as Belphie was trying to figure the answer to his question.

“… Are you really this insecure?” He finally decided to ask.

As her only response was a short side glare with wet eyes, Belphie understood she wouldn´t talk about it.

“Really… Both of you can be such a pain to deal with…” Belphie breathed before leaving Clover alone.

And Clover felt even worse now.

Not only being so horrible inside, but Belphie tried to help her and she rejected it.

She fought tears as she furiously wiped the already clean table.

Pathetic. Yes, she was so pathetic. Honestly, Beel was probably in better company with those succubi than with an idiotic, childish human like her-

Clover got lifted off of the ground.

Squealing, she noticed too late how arms had wrapped around her thighs, leading her to now flail in the air in panic.

"Wh-what?!" Clover panicked.

"It's time for a break" She felt the culprit cheering into her back.

"... Beel?"

Beelzebub began to head through the local, the girl still in his arms.

"Let's go to the kitchen" he said. "Belphie just told you need a break, and I need your help with something..."

Clover gave some more confused noises, but it was impossible to move in the demon's grip anyway.

"O-okay, but... You don't have to carry me, I'm probably heavy..."

She felt him chuckle. "Heavy? I can carry you with one arm. Look!"

He stretched out his right arm to demonstrate. Beel led them into the kitchen.

The local wasn't serving any food at this late hour, so they appeared to be alone here.

"U-uhm... Beel, are you going to put me down somewhen soon, or...?"

"Yeah, soon..." he mumbled, then walked up to one of the shelves hanging on the wall. "Do you perhaps see anything on top of the shelf?"

Clover tilted her head.

"Yeah, there's a box of... What's that...? Meringues?"

Absolutely delicious meringues!"

Clover gave a little chuckle at the excitement in his voice, but her expression did a full turn when she saw the note attached to the box:

'BEEL. DO NOT EAT.'

"Could you get them for me?" Beel smiled innocently.

The girl hesitated, so Beel asked again. "Please, I can't reach them alone. The shelf is up too high."

"Well... I'm guessing someone hid them there on purpose..."

"Please, Clover... I'm so hungry..."

But as he realised she wasn't going to hand him the box that easily, he let her down to rest on the counter they had been standing in front of.

"Beel, I know you're hungry, but..." she began, however halted as she noticed how terribly tired he looked.“... Are you okay?"

The demon gave a little sigh. "No... I'm exhausted... Not like after training, but just... drained." He leaned against the counter next to her. "What about you? Aren't you tired? Have the customers been nice to you?"

"Huh? Yeah, they have."

"Good" he nodded. "We were afraid that some of the guests might harass you or Violet, but I guess Lucifer's official warning was enough to scare them off..."

Clover fiddled with her fingers.

"There was no need to worry, though. I don't think anyone would have approached us… or me, at least" she said, laughing awkwardly. "I don't have a fair share of people crushing on me like you, hahaha..."

Beel looked at her. "Good. You don't need any demons trying to seduce you. I wouldn't want you to go through a hassle like this..."

"... You don't like the attention?"

He shrugged. "Not really... But I have to be nice to them, so I tend to just ignore what they say. I won't say no to free food or extra money, but... I don't really see why they behave like this."

Clover chuckled, feeling relief at his words.

"Diavolo already said it... Good-looking staff makes more profit."

Beel blinked at her, processing her words. "... Thank you."

"Nothing to thank me for" Clover smiled shyly.

He went silent.

"No... No, there is", Beel then suddenly said, pushing himself off the counter to stand in front of her again. "I've been hit on the whole evening, but... somehow, it feels nice if you're the one to compliment me... You always make me feel nice inside. And for that, I should thank you."

He blessed her with a smile that, obviously, was directly followed by the girls' heart exploding in the love she felt for this man.

However, he still gave off odd vibes.

"...Beel?" Clover called out, seeing how he was deeply contemplating something.

"I was thinking of thanking you with some... Meringues" his smile widened.

"... Beel."

"They're supposed to be delicious! I could feed them to you... If I manage to contain myself. But I'd try really hard, because it´s for you.”

"Beel..." Clover sighed, watching as his puppy grin spread on his face more and more.

"Wouldn't that be nice to feed each other a nice treat...?" he changed into begging puppy eyes.

They stared at each other.

"Beel."

"Clover?"

"We both know you have wings, or could have simply climbed onto the counter if you wanted to get those sweets."

"... But I wanted to share them with you...?"

"We also both know how Lucifer tends to cast spells on the things that you are absolutely not allowed to eat. But those tend to apply to demons only most of the time."

Beelzebub went silent.

"What was that earlier?” Clover continued. “About you not wanting me to be lured by demons? And now, I find myself sweet-talked like this?"

His face had ultimately changed into sulking puppy mode.

"... But I... I'm... I really mean what I said…"

Clover crossed her arms.

"You're a sly demon, mister" she scolded. "And to think you'd take advantage of me like this...!" She fake cried in disbelief.

"I'm sorry..." he pouted.

Silence came over them, in which Clover fully knew that he was thinking of both, how to make it up to her AND how to achieve his goal anyway.

His idea surprised her, though.

"... Want to touch my bunny tail?"

"... Huh?"

"I've seen you and Violet do this to the others" Beel said. "I don't why, but you seemed to have fun, so..." He turned around to expose his tail. "AND I'll treat you with some of the meringues, of course", he added as he noticed Clover was seriously considering his offer.

Clover was grunting something. "Lucifer will kill us", she said.

"He doesn't have to find out."

"... You're evil..."

"Well, I AM a demon, after all" Beel laughed.

And as he teasingly wiggled his tail at her, Clover gave in to the temptation...

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

"Beel... Clover... Would you care to explain what I have to look at right now...?"

Lucifer crossed his arms as he spoke.

Yeah, they were SO screwed.

"... Uhm..." Beel started to mumble while Clover felt her stomach turn in guilt.

"Beel" Lucifer called out again. "Could those be the meringues that I have personally bought and reserved for me to enjoy after work?"

"... There was no name written on it" the avatar of Gluttony said.

Lucifer pierced him with an angry stare. Then he turned towards Clover.

"And you" his tone had the girl shiver visibly. "Demons were unable to touch that box. Hence, I assume it was you who got them? AND ate them, as well?"

"I forced her to do it" Beel immediately chimed in.

"Huh?” Clover blinked in surprise. "Beel, no... I got them! And asked Beel to try them with me. It's my f-fault" she lied.

Now Beel was the one to look confused, and the two kind of drowned in a spiral of trying to protect the other one. But the ruckus only fueled Lucifer's displease.

Already stressed out, he felt like he was about to explode.

If not for Violet who kept him steady.

"Lucifer" she mumbled in a mellow voice, stroking over his arm in a calming gesture. "Don't stress yourself. They will buy you a new package."

Lucifer shot her about the same angered glare as he had done with the others, but softened as he mustered her comforting smile.

With a sigh, Lucifer stepped closer to Beel and Clover.

"... You are lucky to have Violet standing up for you..." he mumbled. "As compensation, I order three boxes of those meringues. Oh, and when we close the bar, do not expect to leave until everything is as tidy as can be."

"Y-yes, sir...!"

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

Slowly (very slowly I know) but steadily, the evening came to an end...

A lot has happened, way too much to fit into this... One shot... Story... * glances at the total approximate reading time of one hour*

...Well. Let's not talk about that...

A little after 4 AM, every last customer had left the bar/ had been carried out of the dancing hall (like, a few of the most drunk ones literally had to be yeeted out of the local.)

Now everything that was left was cleaning up the local.

Lucifer took it upon himself to punish all of his brothers - and Clover - for annoying him at some point during this event. So those appeared to have an extra load of work, while he pulled Violet aside with him for some more leisure cleaning.

Around five in the morning, it seemed like the bunny crew was finally finished.

"Alright..." Barbatos mumbled, stepping out of the last hall he needed to check. "It seems we are done. All that is left is to take out the trash as we go."

"... How are we supposed to take out the trash? Mammon is still tied to the ceiling" Belphie mumbled casually.

"WHO DID YOU JUST CALL TRASH?!" Some Mammon screamed from the staff's room.

Clover mustered them in amusement, when Violet walked up to her.

"Ooooh, Clooveerrrr...." the girl hummed in a rather... Scary tone.

"... I don't like the look on your face" Clover stated in growing fear.

"You know... We still need to see who's won the challenge" Violet grinned.

Clover crossed her arms. "... Do we really need to compare?"

"Yes."

"Uggghhh..." Clover frowned. She pulled out her phone:

-------

Clover: Lord Diavolo? May we ask how many points you have?

Diavolo: I managed to gather 12 points, fair and square. How many do you two have?

Violet: I have 20 points in total... Although I'm not 100% sure if Lucifer noticed me earlier...

Clover: ...

* Clover has left the chatroom *

------

"Violet, I don't want to do this."

Clover's friend mustered her with a smirk.

"Well..." Violet hummed. "I'm not forcing you, but... You did loose, after all..."

"Violeeet..."

"And look" she pointed at the hall in front of the dressing rooms. "He's standing there, alone, for some reason... It's fate, Clover."

Clover gave the ugliest growl.

But in the end she walked up to Solomon.

She didn't even know how to approach this. Should she try to make it sneaky, or just awkwardly ask?

Legs wobbly, Clover came to a stop behind the sorcerer, reaching out her hand in the same moment that he turned around to face her.

"Oh, hello", Solomon cheered. "Can I help you?"

She flinched backwards.

"Uuhhhh..."

Solomon gave her a confused look, but didn't get to say anything.

Coincidentally, Levi happened to walk up to them as well, wanting something from Solomon.

The human turned around as the two talked.

And finally…

Solomon's bunny tail got touched.

...

Clover escaped immediately. Avoiding any kind of interaction, at all costs.

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

The last thing to do before everyone could return home was getting dressed normally again.

And everyone felt so tired that they really just wanted to hit the hay, when...

A panicked scream rang out of the stall Clover was changing in.

"... Clover?" Violet called out, already dressed normally again.

The girl gave continuous panicked noises, pressed out random “What is happening-?!”´s.

Then, all of a sudden, silence came over them.

“Cl… Clover…?” Visibly concerned, Violet was standing in front of the stall´s door, unsure what to do. As she didn´t get an answer, she was trying to open the door, but it was locked.

She had to hurry to get someone to help, and as her face screamed “we have trouble”, most of her friends came to look what was going on.

Barbatos had to help open the stalls door, and when Violet carefully pushed it open…

They saw a small, brown bunny sitting on the floor.

Its green eyes were staring up into the countless pairs of puzzled eyes as they tried to understand the situation.

Violet was the first one to move again. She slowly lowered herself, reaching out to the animal.

“Is that you… Clover?”

“HUH?!”

Half of the people there stared at the girl in disbelief.

“You´re telling me THIS is CLOVER??” Mammon asked with big eyes. Violet had picked the bunny up and stepped out of the stall to get a better look at Clover.

“What happened to her?” Beel asked, worry spread over his face.

Bunny Clover seemed to understand their words. Or at least, she suddenly turned her fluffy head, staring directly at Solomon.

And, well, the sorcerer stared back, an amused smile on his face.

"Ah... So Clover DID touch my tail, after all!"

"... What."

The whole group was now demanding answers.

Solomon chuckled, placing his gaze on Violet now. "I was waiting until one of you would finally approach me and touch my tail... But oddly, none of you seemed to have interest in touching it... I thought I had made myself an easy target, but I must have made it too obvious..."

Violet´s mouth fell open a tad bit.

"... So you really knew of our challenge?" She dared to ask.

But Solomon would only continue to laugh.

"I honestly thought my efforts would go to waste..." He mustered the bunny in her arms. "Don't worry though, the spell will wear off eventually."

"Eventually??" Levi repeated.

"Yes, in a few days or so."

"WHAT?!"

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

The whole way back to the house of Lamentation, Violet had to deal with this grumpy, pissed, simply angwy bunny in her arms. Clover couldn´t speak, but the little facial expression she could give said it all.

“Hey, Cloverrr…” Violet attempted to cheer her up. “Don´t look at me like that… It was fun, wasn´t it?”

Bunny Clover snuffled grumpily.

Yeah, yeah, she thought. It´s all fun and games until it´s about Solomon.

Meanwhile, Bunny Clover had to endure how the brothers kept poking her fluffy fur or took pictures of her.

If she could, Clover would have given a big sigh.

THIS is exactly why I don't trust Solomon... Never did, never will...

[b-yeonder]

Hey are the requests open? If so, can you do a a-z nsfw for Lucifer? If they're not open then please ignore this. Anyways, I love your writing and I'm looking forward to more 😊😊😊

I’ve never done one of these before so I hope it’s okay. Also I struggle to take anything seriously so of course there’s gonna be some dumb shit in here. Anyway, hope you enjoy and thank you so much! 

Warnings: NSFW, mentions of murder

NSFW A-Z: LUCIFER

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Lucifer can be rough - he's known to be a sadist after all but that doesn't mean he doesn't know how to look after you once he's had his way. Softens his voice, asks if you're okay, if there's anything you need. Will clean you up and praise you for how well you did. If it's him needing the aftercare, he's very quiet, playing over what just happened. Appreciates a drink and gentle caresses to bring him back down to earth

B = Body Part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

I think that Lucifer has quite a lot of insecurities - being told you're perfect all the time can make you dwell more on your flaws (or what you deem to be flaws.) But one thing he does like is his eyes. He knows he can make you lose yourself in his eyes with a single look. One look from across the room and he can have you begging for him within moments.On you he loves your hands. He doesn't let many people get close, let alone touch him, but your hands can ease his pains and make him feel loved. Massages, caresses, the way you hold his head against your chest at night, or the way you grip his cock so eagerly once he's riled you up. Also ties into a little somethin' I'll mention below in the D section eh ehhhh. (Oh and your mouth is a close second. (And not just because you called him baby boy once and had him malfunctioning for a whole hour.))

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

Lucifer doesn't like the thought of cleaning up, so prefers to cum inside you - it's his main way of showing that you're his. But accidents happen and there have been times he's slipped out at the last minute and coated the skin of your stomach/back and for a moment he found himself admiring it - like a new way of marking you as his. Oh he also likes painting your tongue with his cum too because watching you swallow it makes his pride bl o s s o m.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Dirty to him anyway - he actually likes submitting to you. (Once you two are quite established.) Shock horror! But you're the only one he trusts to completely let loose with, and sometimes when you have this much pressure on you it's nice to let someone else take control. BE HONOURED. OH and the hand thing. He will fucking worship your digits. Kiss 'em, suck 'em, nuzzle 'em. OOF. 

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

He's been around for a long time, so it goes without saying he's had plenty of experience. He's well versed in the basics and is quick to pick up on every little thing you like to use against you (in the best way possible).

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

Likes being able to see your face, to watch every little sound escape your lips, every little sign of pleasure. Feeds off of it. But is not averse to shoving you face first into the mattress and fucking you senseless until you can barely utter a word. So y'know depends on his mood really. 

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

Serious. But dumb shit can happen during sex and even the Mighty First is not immune to this. Will laugh stuff off and get things quickly back on track by muttering naughty things in that delicious voice of his. If you insist on being jokey he'll insist on making it so you can't do anything but moan ;)

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

He's a busy guy, but he makes sure to always be groomed. This does mean that things get on top of him and well...don't blame the overworked tired bean if he gets a little unruly down there sometimes, okay?

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…) 

He's almost always quietly praising/encouraging you - in between the teasing of course. 

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

He's a stressed mess, he needs to release his frustrations somehow. Does it less so since you came along, and honestly didn't masturbate too often before, but when he does it's a scene. He takes his time, making sure to work up to a glorious finish so that he can truly relax afterwards.

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Probably has a Sir or Daddy kink. Kinda likes choking you as well. One time your hand slipped from his chest to his throat without you thinking and that's when he realised he kinda likes being choked too oii oiiii.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

His freakin' giant glorious bed because he's old and has back pain. Also bending you over his desk after rather troublesome days works too.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

You teasing him throughout the day. "MC you're eating that corn too sexually I'm going to have to teach you a lesson later." "Did you just call me mum? I don't care if it's an accident, I'm going to have to punish you later." "Did you just breathe? That's it, you asked for it." In all seriousness he rarely shows his want for you on the outside, but inside he'll be raring to ravage you. Depends on the day - one day you could have him popping a boner simply by rubbing your foot against his calf. The next, stripping naked and grinding on his face might not even make him blink. 

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

"Roleplay as Satan for me, Lucifer." You're probably dead before you even finish speaking those words, sorry I don't make the rules. (Oh wait I kinda do right now oops.)

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

Prefers to give as he likes having the power over you to make you come completely undone. Can feel a little vulnerable receiving - maybe he got bitten by a devious ex lover, who knows, but once you get going and his confidence with you grows he likes nothing more than grabbing the back of your head and urging you to take more of him.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

He can be both. Fast and rough are his go-to, and when he does go slow, his thrusts are still usually on the harder side.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

He loves taking his time with you, as he likes driving you crazy for him but if the mood calls for it he has no issues with bending you over his desk and taking you right then and there. Will probably take extra care of you next time.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Damn straight he's down to experiment. Is curious to see how far both of you can go and what you're willing to do. 

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

Only one round, his back hurts too much. I'm kidding, he can go a few rounds, and can last a long time. There have been a couple occasions he's cum rather fast - either when drunk, or it's been a while since the last time. Gets very embarrassed over it but knows it's natural and happens sometimes. (That’s not the norm though, he promises.)

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

He got a bit crazy when you came along. Anything you like the sound of, he has. Already had blindfolds and things to bind you with - rope, ribbons, string cheese, you name it. But now you're here he has a whole collection of toys to tease you with. Even has a favourite vibrator he loves to leave strapped to your thigh so you can't get away from it. Ah, good times.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Biiitch. BIiiiiiiiiiiiiiitch. This monster is the biggest tease. "Hm...I'm not sure you deserve my cock today, MC. Now now, begging will get you nowhere." (It probably will eventually, just saying. ...Maybe.) He'll leave you on read for days but magically turn up just as you're about to pleasure yourself like "nuhuh bitch, not today."

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Fairly quiet - any sounds he does make are low in his throat, deep. Loses control closer to reaching his climax - gets breathier, speaks a little louder and noises are more frequent. Buuut once he did manage to wake up everyone in the house but that was because you'd been teasing him all day, you hadn’t slept together in like a week, and he'd been drinking and-- the list of excuses go on.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

Was once convinced to try out women's underwear once after a conversation with Asmo and was pleasantly surprised by how nice his ass looked. Will never EVER tell anyone this though, not even you and shit I shouldn't even be writing this he's probably gonna-- Oh heyyy Lucifer, nothing to see here I was jus--*gurrKH*

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

Decent length, decent thickness. Just enough to take a bit of work to fit in but not too much that it's uncomfortable, y'know?

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Not very high, definitely not above average. Can definitely go without, but his mind might wander.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Depends how tired he is, and how much is on his mind. You'll probably be the one to fall asleep first most of the time, which is great because he's good at giving after-sex cuddles. Plus your steady breathing makes it easier for him to sleep as well so...win win?

[breakingsomething]

Dawn Station - Part Two

Basic summary: Chase Brody is being kept safe, far away from other people. So he thinks.

Content warnings: gore, body horror, stabbing, emeto, death mentions

Chase Brody is not ok.

Of course he's not. How is he expected to be? Ten people have died, and now he's being told he's next. He's been under police protection for days and judging by the strained snippets of conversation that he's caught from officers, even the others that had been with him are gone. Ten people, they had said. As far as Chase is aware, there were only nine other youtubers who'd been roped into this shit. Who else has this monster that wants them dead killed along with them? Does he even want to know?

He's been in this room for… three days? Four? Fuck, he doesn't remember. All he knows now is white walls, too close around him, with a bed, a tv in the top corner that he doesn't have a remote for, a black bin, a rolling table that's covered in books and other assorted things that he managed to bring with him, and two doors, one of which that leads to a small bathroom and one of which that leads outside. The second door only opens when he's being brought food. No one's telling him anything. He's scared out his mind.

An officer, a pale skinned woman with orange braids and a sympathetic smile, comes in a couple hours after he wakes for the day with breakfast. Toast, cold, with butter slabs and little packets of jam and sugar for his tea. Also cold. "Sorry, we don't have any Weetabix," she tells him with furrowed eyebrows and a sad tilt of the mouth as she clicks the door behind him. "We do have Cheerios and porridge, if you want something more to eat."

It's all he can do not to laugh. "No, thank you," says Chase, in a hoarse voice that hasn't been used in hours. "I want my phone back."

The officer winces. Her eyes are dark, crimson lipstick slightly smudged. Her nametag says "Sarah" on it in violet ink. "I'm sorry," she murmurs, in a voice so soft and falsely sympathetic it makes Chase want to scream. "I don't know if we can do that. We -"

"The others are dead, aren't they?" Chase interrupts. He knows this already. But it's worth saying to see the woman flinch. "All of them. So much for your oh-so-safe "police custody" bullshit."

She attempts to gather herself as professionally as she can, which is seemingly rather difficult. "I'm sorry," she repeats, and something about her tone is more genuine than before. "They are. But I swear to you, Mr Brody, we are doing everything we can to -"

"If I am going to die today," Chase says, interrupting again. "I want to talk to my goddamn family one more fucking time. Please get me my phone."

She stiffens, but gives a jerky little nod. He doesn't smile at her as she leaves. Not much to smile about. But she comes back ten minutes later and wordlessly hands him his slim rose phone, no expression on her face. He manages to upturn the corner of his lips in response.

Once she's left again, he turns his phone on and practically sighs at the sight of his two kids on his lockscreen. Little Connor and Louise, tiny kiddos, dressed up in their pristine school uniforms and grinning cheesily. His heart swells, and he swallows hard as the lump in his throat seems to expand. He can't cry. He's been crying enough lately. To think that two weeks ago, he was ecstatic to be receiving an email from Jack Mcloughlin himself, giving him the opportunity to play his new game's demo early. Look at him now.

Stacy is at the top of his contacts list, but only because he has her favourited still. He's not sure why. It just feels right to have her there. Her picture is a small, grainy image of her face next to a three year old Connor's. He has her looks more than Louise. Louise looks like her dad. She's a daddy's girl. Chase misses her so much it aches, and closes his eyes as he clicks Stacy's number.

She answers almost immediately. "Chase?" she yells, causing him to wince and pull the phone away from his ears. He hears her inhale sharply. "Sorry. Christ, Chase - Where the fuck are you?"

He swallows again, digging his nails into the palm of his hand. His legs are already beginning to bounce. "Police didn't tell you anything, huh," he mutters. "I'm in custody. They're apparently "keeping me safe," but I'm well aware of the fact that the others - Persephone, Rodney, Stanley, and Khia - are. Well." He clears his throat. "Dead."

He says it so matter of factly that you wouldn't know how close he was to tears had you not seen his face.

Stacy shifts, and Chase hears a door slam faintly. Two small voices giggle far off. He bites down on his lip as Stacy talks again. "Yeah. That's… yeah. Chase, I'm sorry. Uh… Jack Mcloughlin's dead too."

Chase sits bolt upright, eyes suddenly wide. "What?"

Stacy sounds alarmed. "I - Yes, did they not tell you? He died maybe two days ago. Same way as all the others. I'm sorry, Chase."

He can't breathe for a moment. Then he's numb and his body settles into cold, unfeeling static.

"Ok," he says flatly. "Great."

"Chase -"

"How are the kids?" he asks before she can finish. He's tired. He's been doing nothing but sleeping and he's tired. "I can hear them in the background, ha. Sounds like a fun time."

He can hear her scratching the space behind her ear. She does that when she's anxious. Nervous habit. She had gotten a little tattoo of a bee there when they were seventeen. It was a dare from their friend Daniel, who had also gotten a tattoo of a crocodile on his left thigh. Chase has a black bear on his right shoulder from the same occasion. When he and Stacy had been together, they would sometimes kiss the other's tattoos and descend into giggles remembering that slightly drunken night back in Ireland. His chest feels tight thinking about it. His eyes glaze over, and he tries to focus on something across the room.

"They're… not great," Stacy murmurs after a moment, making him jump. He had almost forgotten she was there. "Some brat at school told them about - this whole situation. Told them their dad was going to die. Apparently, she made up a song about it."

Chase hisses softly, grateful for another emotion besides grief and missing to focus on. "Fuck's sake. Which kid was this?"

"You know that girl who was making fun of Louise's accent last year and put chips in her hair?"

"That kid again? I thought the school dealt with her."

A sigh. "Apparently not. They came home in tears. I've been keeping them home since then."

Chase shakes his head in disbelief. "Shit, Stace. Can I… can I talk to them?"

She sighs again. "I… I suppose. But - how have you been? I take it its not been great, but are you at least ok?"

What counts as ok? He doesn't know. "I'm not dead yet. So there's something. I guess I can't really say much more than that."

"Papa?" cries a voice on the end of the line, and a grin breaks Chase's face as he recognizes his son, Connor, yelling from somewhere quite close to Stacy. "Is that Papa? Mama, let us talk - Louise, Papa's on the phone!"

Chase can't help but laugh as his daughter also chimes in, two little voices clamoring for his attention. "Calm down, kiddos, there's plenty of me to go round," he grins, pushing his hair back from his face so he can concentrate. "How are you both? One at a time, Louise first."

"Favouritism," he hears Connor sulk, but the boy quiets.

"I'm ok," Louise beams. He can hear her smile, and sees it when he closes his eyes. "I can't go to school cause Megan Penicuik was being mean. We made cookies, though, me and Con-Con! All by ourselves, no help from Mama at all!"

"Now, that's simply not true," he hears Stacy laugh in the background. Chase laughs too, his heart suddenly aching. Something weighs heavy in his chest, but he tries to push it away, feeling sick.

A scuffle on the end of the line, and then it's Connor speaking. "I miss you, Papa!" he cries. "I wanna give you a - a chocolate chip cookie, I have one here." His voice becomes muffled, and Chase hears him chewing. "Yum yum yum. Can we push a cookie down the phone? Like, through the speakers, Mama!"

Chase listens to a small squabble break out, then hears Stacy sigh dramatically. "They're doing just fine," she says, sounding so tired, yet vaguely amused. "I… I hate to say it, but I should probably go. Connor's games club is in half an hour and I haven't gotten ready at all. My makeup's a state." Her voice softens. "Will you be… ok?"

Will he? He doesn't know.

"Stace," he murmurs. His chest feels tight. "I could die. Like, tonight. That's what people are saying. I'm the last one left."

A pause, then Stacy lets out a shaky sigh. "Christ, Chase…"

He gathers his strength. "Listen. Listen, Stace. If I die tonight - I just want you to know how much I love you, ok? Even if we… if we weren't meant to be together anymore. You're one of my best friends, you know? So… take care of the kids. Don't lose yourself. And by god, don't start drinking again."

She gives a choked laugh. "Chase. God, I - Don't fucking die tonight."

He doesn't know how to tell her he won't have a choice.

As soon as the call's ended, he opens up his roommate's contact. He can't stand the echoing silence that seems to go on forever in the minute or so before the ringing starts. He supposes that if tonight is his last night alive, he should say goodbye. Even if it hurts. Even if it makes him feel sick to say it.

He nearly sobs with relief when he hears the line click, and a familiar German accent speak loudly in his ear. "Chase?"

Chase sniffles, laughing softly. "Hey, Henny."

Henrik curses, and something slams. "Mother of God, Chase Brody, do you have any idea - Are you - Fuck, are you alright?"

Good question. "I don't know," he admits, bouncing his leg anxiously, and staring at his chipped black nails. "I mean, I'm… scheduled to die tonight. So probably not. Really, I've been weirdly calm about all this."

Henrik huffs, and Chase can almost picture him getting red in the face, yanking back his hair and staring out the window of their flat with narrowed, pale blue eyes. "They have not done anything about it? Surely it is not possible that a murderer who is killing in patterns cannot be apprehended? You would think that would be easy, especially if you are being held in high security. Motherfucking useless British police. Not that German ones were much better, but Christ -"

Chase cuts him off before he can rant for another five minutes. "How are the others? Are Jackie, Marv and Jem holding up ok?"

Henrik sighs, blowing out his cheeks. "Mhm. Marvin has gone a bit mad. Fucking idiot is spending way too much time online, reading up on your situation. He seems convinced that you are going to die as well. According to Jackie, he spent all of yesterday out of the house and came back saying he had been performing. But Jackie says he had not had any parties scheduled for that day, so he was talking shit."

Chase winces. His friend Marvin is a child's birthday party performer, a magician, and spends a lot of time perfecting fun tricks and illusions to add into his routine. Chase knows how much he enjoys his job. But he also knows that Marvin's habit of spending hours on internet forums and sites, learning things from other performers, can be bad for him. "Christ. I… Goddammit it. How's Jackie coping?"

He hears a microwave go off in the background. Henrik mutters something that Chase can't hear, then keeps talking. "Jackie has been at the gym every day since you were taken in. Overworking himself. He did come round yesterday and, uh, spoke about how scared he was for you. Cried a lot, poor man. I am not good with comforting people, but I tried. He does not know what to do with himself anymore."

This isn't surprising. Chase is well aware of Jackie's habit of overexercising and pushing himself too far when he was angry or upset. "And Jameson?"

Something clatters, like Henrik's rummaging in a cupboard. A fridge opens and slams shut, and then Henrik is back. "He has been round at our flat a lot. Did you know Euan ended things with him? I did not, until he told me the day before yesterday. He was dreadfully upset. The timing was… not great, to say the least. I do not think he is doing too well, but he refuses to accept any of the help I wish to give him. He kept asking about me instead. Really, sometimes I wish he was not such a good actor."

So does Chase. Jameson is never one to be open about his feelings, instead trying to help everyone else first. Chase loves him a lot, but he wishes the filmmaker would be less stubborn and insistent that he was always ok. His heart aches at the thought of Jameson suffering alone, especially now - he and his boyfriend Euan had been so close, as well. The thought that he might never be able to figure out what happened between them hurts. "Me too. God, Hen, me too. Give them all my love though, yeah? Tell Marvin to take some time to do self care, and tell Jackie to take breaks, and tell Jameson to talk to his therapist. And you… don't you overwork yourself either. I know what you're like. Only one cup of coffee a day, dude, remember. Don't make me come over there."

Henrik laughs softly, but there's a sadness to it. "You sound as though you are saying goodbye."

Something stabs into Chase's heart. He tries to catch his breath through the lump in his throat. "Henrik. I'm going to die tonight."

There's a long pause. He can hear Henrik adjusting, rubbing his face and knocking his glasses askew. Maybe he knows his roommate too well. Far too well, maybe well enough that he knows what he'll say next. "There has to be another way."

Chase shakes his head despite Henrik being unable to see him. "No. No, Hen, no. This - this is what's happening, and we can't just… fix it. I wish we could, cause I don't even understand why, and it's so scary, and… God, I wish we could. I have so much left I want to do, and…"

He trails off. Henrik doesn't speak. Chase imagines him pulling the phone away from his face, squeezing his eyes shut and covering his mouth so as not to cry. The image hurts. Chase hurts. He holds the phone tight, aching to be somewhere, anywhere else other than here.

"You know," he says, voice choked as he speaks. "It's ironic how much I wanted to die a few months ago, and now I'm here, and I'm suddenly so scared."

"You are not going to die," Henrik suddenly shouts. There is anger in his voice that Chase knows is not directed at him. "You are not. It will not just all end like that, Chase Brody. I will not let it."

Something hot pricks the backs of Chase's eyes. He swallows hard, his chest tightening, his legs bouncing harder. "Henrik. Henrik, I - I have to go. I have to go. I'm sorry. I love you, dude. You know that? I love you."

"Chase," Henrik practically sobs. "Shit, I love you too. But you are not going to die."

Chase ends the call and throws up in the black bin next to his bed.

-

Night comes quickly, Chase thinks.

He thinks, because an officer comes to take his phone soon after his call with Henrik ends. He's starting to regret hanging up, but it had to have been what was best. Of course it was what was best. No need to make this hurt so much more than it already does. This is something he has to keep telling himself. No need to make this hurt so much more than it already does.

The officers ask what he wants for dinner that night instead of giving him choices. He gets it. It's a last meal. He takes full advantage of it and orders pepperoni cheese stuffed crust pizza and garlic sticks, his favourite, with barbeque sauce and churros. It all tastes like cardboard. He eats it anyway, because he's bored and his mouth still tastes like vomit and if he's going to die, it's only fitting that he goes out with a Domino's in him.

Before he's even finished eating, an armed guard comes and takes him across the building. It's the first time he's left his room in days, and he's surprised to see how dark it is outside, how little people are around. The few people he does see stare at him, some open mouthed with awe, some with sad eyes like a parent trying to tell their child that their pet fish died. Chase stares at the floor. Stares at the gun tucked into the waistband of the officer in front of him. He's scared, and his heart is racing faster than it has in years, and he thinks he's dissociating a little because he doesn't feel real and his fingertips are numb. Adrenaline thrums through his body, warming him and erasing the painful cold. Fuck, but he's scared. He's so, so goddamn scared.

He's taken to an entirely different room, a slightly bigger one that looks nearly the same, but with wooden chairs sat all around the border. There's no TV in this room. "Sit here," one of the officers says, guiding him to the blue covered bed and gesturing for him to sit. He does so, feeling silly and light with panic. He thinks he's going to be sick again. His breaths aren't coming right and fuck, he might faint from the sudden, overwhelming wave of dizziness that's washing over him now.

One of the officers that has just come in walks over and sits next to him. He's in full uniform, a radio on his vest, a bat strapped to his belt. "Are you alright, Mr Brody?" he asks gently, looking at him with kind brown eyes, and Chase sobs with relief for some kind of comfort.

"H-h-having a p-panic attack," he stammers, shifting on the bed to try and feel something, clawing at his skin under his grey hoodie and desperately trying not to cry. "N-need my - my - my asth-ma in-inhaler, p-please, I can't br-breathe -"

He's brought his inhaler, and he clutches it gratefully, clinging to it like a child. The cold button grounds him. Maybe, maybe if he squeezes his eyes shut tight enough, he'll wake up in his bed at home and be able to get up and shower in a bathroom that's not small or lit too brightly and then he can go downstairs to the kitchen to find Henrik half asleep at the table, three cups of coffee in front of him, wearily participating in whatever Chase's dumb early morning joke is, and then he can eat toast that's not burnt or done too lightly and play his music while he writes or goes on a walk outside. Maybe. Maybe.

The armed guards keep watch over him for two full hours.

Chase Brody is terrified.

It's when it hits the two and a half hour mark that he begins to notice anything different. A faint ringing in his ears. He thinks it's his tinnitus and waves it off, simply swatting at the air around his head like that will help at all. One of the guards notices immediately. "Sir, are you alright?"

Chase nods. He's not, but he doesn't need them dithering over him. Unfortunately, the guard doesn't let up. "Seriously, it's important that you tell us what's happening. Anything at all. Anything that could help you."

Well, that's reassuring. "Strange noise," he murmurs, shaking his hair out his face. "I think it's just me, though, I'm alright -"

But the guard is standing, muttering something into the radio strapped to his chest, and is it Chase's imagination, or are more people entering the room? "What's happening?" he asks, but he gets no response, and he's starting to feel strangely dizzy and tired, like something heavy is dragging his eyelids down. "I don't… h-hey, I don't feel too… too well…"

Someone is speaking to him but the world is already blurring, his head light, floaty. "Stacy?" he slurs, trying to get a grip on the bedsheets beneath him. "Someone needs t'... m'kids, they…"

-

Chase Brody is no longer in the same room as he was before.

He doesn't know when that changed. He can't pinpoint the exact moment where the walls darkened and raised with pipes and doors and panels, he doesn't know when his bed disappeared beneath him and the floor became sticky and black, he doesn't know when the bright light of his room became a soft blue glow, lighting up the room from behind him. He doesn't know when the room had stretched both ways into a long hallway, lined with slivers of light through the windows. He doesn't know why, when he stands, his legs nearly crumple beneath him. And when he turns - god, when he turns, and he looks out the enormous windows behind him - he doesn't know why a calming sensation of numbness settles over him, burning his skin like pins and needles.

He is staring out at the vast abyss of space.

It's a blackness he's never seen before. It seems to go on forever, and maybe it does, and there is nothing but tiny pinpricks of silver light of gaseous stars piercing the inky nothingness. Nothing but that, and the ball of green and blue that Chase knows, somewhere in his mind. Earth. Earth, where he is and isn't, where his body should be, where he never left, and what kind of nightmare is this? What kind of sick nightmare, he thinks dizzily, his thoughts chugging slowly as though through a thick soup. Everything is spinning. There is no sound, the world is broken, and the space is fucking endless.

Move, says the tiny part of his brain that still has sense. Get out. Get out.

His footsteps echo on the metal panes of the floor, and he resists the tightening urge in his stomach to vomit.

He doesn't know why this place is familiar.

The hallway seems to go on forever. All the doors along the way to the left have small, glowing panels beside them that seem to demand some type of access keycard, which Chase very much does not have. Eventually he reaches one that he can open, and stumbles into a large room with a table in the centre, the walls covered in photos and clippings that he doesn't bother taking closer looks at. There is only one small window in here, over a sleek black couch that seems to have nearly been shredded right through the middle. The table has a bolted down chair and a large pile of papers next to a cracked laptop that splutters weakly as it asks for a password. The room is too dark. Chase slowly walks through it, wincing at the sound his boots make on the floor, wincing at the silence, heart racing with the promise of another panic attack that he pushes down forcefully, gripping his own wrist for support. This isn't right, screams the universe. This is too familiar. This is too real. This is too familiar to be real.

Chase has noticed that everything in this place, despite its immediate appearance of immaculate properness, seems to be slightly out of place. This becomes more apparent in the room adjacent to the one he'd just been in, a room filled with sealed metal crates and boilers that bubble menacingly from their perches on the walls, a room which has clearly been nearly destroyed. Black claw marks have torn out chunks of the walls, wires ripped from the floor, buzzing weakly and sparking from wherever they were thrown after their violent uprooting. Dark red stains splash across the floor like a tragic painting that makes Chase's stomach upturn sickly. A vent on the ceiling hisses, and the man jumps and bolts, all last dregs of courage leaving him in an instant. He knows this is a dream. This is a dream, nothing is real, nothing is real, it must be just a dream.

"I've gone to hell," he sobs aloud, clamping both hands over his mouth as a cry climbs up his throat. "O-oh my god, I've gone to hell."

This is what you get for being a shitty, alcoholic dad and husband, he thinks, and promptly throws up on the floor next to the fresh bloodstains.

The rooms start to blur. Objects to objects, light to light, black walls and coloured glow and sparks, hissing, echoing rumbles, all becoming one in Chase's mind. He's long gone past the stage of a panic attack; he's in a state of utter numb calm, now. In one room he finds a long, black lighter and holds it tightly in his hands for comfort, twisting it round and round in buzzing fingers just to feel something solid against his skin to ground him. Please, he prays softly, wiping sweat from his forehead, struggling to breathe as his chest tightens and the world seems to grow hotter and smaller. Please, let me wake up, let me wake up from this, please.

And then something is standing behind him.

He doesn't know how he knows. It's just a sensation of silent shock in him, of I am not alone, a stabbing feeling as the hairs on the back of his neck rise. Something is there. He feels eyes on him. He can't - fuck, he can't move, and all the emotion in him seems to be rising to a painful crescendo. I am not alone in here. I am not alone in here.

"Who's there," he says in a small, cracked voice, not daring to turn. It's barely a question. "What do you want from me."

Nothing but a low hissing, and, most frightening of all, a rumbling growl that nearly sends Chase to the floor in a faint.

He has to look.

He has to look.

He looks.

It's an… an astronaut.

Neither of them move, and Chase's grip on the lighter in his hands tightens, trying to find some form of comfort, anything. "Why am I here?" he manages, swallowing back hot bile that burns his throat and makes him gag softly. "Why, why, what nightmare is this? Am I dead? Did the killer get me and this is my hell?"

The astronaut is silent.

Fury bubbles in Chase's chest, overriding the fear for a moment. "Talk!" he shouts, perhaps stupidly, but he doesn't care. "Please! What is happening?"

Then things get perhaps even stranger, somehow. A glowing 2D box of light appears in front of the astronaut, hovering in the air, too quiet until black text begins to appear on it, cartoonishly video game like blooping noises playing with each letter. Chase watches in awe. He's unable to speak.

<TheAnti.chr_v09> You are the Player.

Chase reads the words over and over and over.

"My name is Chase Brody," he says, voice wavering with uncertainty, because something here is wrong, wrong, wrong, so ridiculously wrong, and he hates the way things are clicking in his mind. "I shouldn't - be here. I think I'm dreaming and I want to go home."

The text flashes.

<TheAnti.chr_v09> You are <player_variable_BroAverage>. You are the Player.

Chase feels like he's above his body, like nothing he's seeing is real anymore. "Please let me go home."

<TheAnti.chr_v09> I am <TheAnti.chr_v09>. I am the Anti. You are the player. Player objective: escape. Anti objective: kill the Player. Initialization - Upon game startup, play <soundtrack_opening2>, set spawn and character sprites -

Chase can't take this. "Stop it!" he cries, and he shouldn't step forwards so confidently, but he does, slashing his hand through the air in front of him. "Tell me what you -"

The astronaut explodes.

No. No, it doesn't explode; Chase's mind is taking a moment to make sense of it, to rationalize the way the helmet has shattered and there is nothing but sheer white and glowing green eyes, hundreds of them, underneath, the largest one on the being's neck, splitting open with disgustingly inhuman squelching sounds, and the way the suit has torn and a mouth has opened up on the stomach, a gaping maw with knives for teeth and a slimy crimson tongue, and the way rips open along the material and more eyes open, burning red skin like charred meat, black veins rising under its skin. It hisses and cracks and growls and hums and it isn't like anything Chase has ever seen before, or maybe it is, because he knows this monster. He's seen this monster. And fuck, now he knows why this world is familiar, because he's been here, he's played this game. This can't be real. This can't be real.

"Posttraumatic nightmares," he can hear Henrik saying to him, the man's voice comforting. "Nightmares that occur after a traumatic event and can contain, what is the word… recurring themes that make you experience intense negative emotions. Maybe that is why you are having such strange dreams, my friend. You have been through a lot in these past few weeks."

That had been months ago. I thought I got over those dreams. I thought I got over those dreams.

He's running. His legs are already burning, chest already tight, why did he have to have used all his energy on his panic attack? Is the monster still following him? Chase can't turn to check, and the blood in his veins is racing through his body faster than he's used to, his heart in his ears as he flies round a corner, barely able to catch a breath. This isn't real, he thinks. It's another nightmare. Please, this isn't real, this isn't -

And then something wet is snaking round his chest, pulsing in a way that makes Chase gag, and something sharp presses into the skin on his back and a burst of numbness runs over him like cold water, causing his body to go limp against the alien - because it is an alien, isn't it, he knew this already - behind him. Cold heaviness seeps through his veins, combatting the light weightlessness that the adrenaline was giving him. He tries to cough again, to speak as his lungs empty of air, but the alien only grips his arms tight enough to piece his skin with sharp claw-like fingers. A glance down at his chest, and he sees the tip of the bloodstained rod jutting through his skin. It doesn't really register. A light laugh escapes his lips, because it's funny, really, how he's about to die at the hands of a video game antagonist.

No, he's not about to die. This isn't real. It can't be, it's another bad dream, of course it is. But if it's not real, then what happened to Jack Mcloughlin and the others, all of those… all of…

The world spins.

And the world lights up in flames.

Chase had briefly forgotten about the lighter he'd picked up for support, and now he's putting it to good use; one flick of the switch and the alien is alight as though it had been soaked in gasoline, burning orange spreading across its suit, the crackling drowning out the monster's screeches. Its grip loosens on Chase's arms, and he pulls free, and the universe spins as the rod in his chest slips out like it's nothing, leaving a gaping emptiness in him. Please, he screams, in his mind or out loud, he doesn't know. Please. Please.

Please, wake me up.

-

White light. It floods the whole world, for just a moment, and then Chase's eyes are open and he is gasping for air, hands flying to his chest and feeling nothing but the soft material of his shirt, no pain except for the squeeze of his lungs as he coughs desperately into his sleeve. There are people surrounding him now; the police officers and armed guards from before, helping him sit up, holding a sick bucket in front of him as he throws up the little that's left in his stomach weakly, too much noise but nowhere near as bad as the silence of the Dawn Station. Nowhere near as bad as the hissing creaks of the Anti. Nowhere near as bad as his nightmare, because it was a nightmare, of course that wasn't real - nowhere near as bad as the nightmare that he'd thought was going to kill him.

I lived. I survived the night.

He's had this thought before, but this time, it's met with relief.

-

"You dreamed about the setting of a video game."

"Not just any video game. The, uh… the new Jack Mcloughlin game, Dawn Station. All the people who played the demo… died. I didn't die. The night I was supposed to, after all the others, I - I dreamed about the game. And the antagonist of the game. It's this, uh, this alien thing, in an astronaut suit. Tried to kill me. Apparently it's weak to fire, although I don't remember that from the actual game, maybe it was a secret that wasn't in the demo we were all sent, but I burned it, and it stabbed me, and I got away, not - not in that order. Does that… does that make sense, doctor?"

Dr. Ross scrutinizes Chase for a moment before turning his chair back to face his computer. The sound of his mouse clicking fills the room, off beat from the eternal clicking of the plain white clock on the plain white walls, decorated only with bookshelves and trays of medicines. Chase has never been in a more boring doctor's office. Usually his therapy sessions have more to look at, but this is a different therapist than he normally goes to, and all he can do is fidget with his hands on his lap and stare out the window at the

earth, the stars, the black abyss of emptiness that Chase could get lost in and never be found

setting sun through the trees just outside the building. The doctor's pen clicks, clicks, clicks. It sounds like the Anti's teeth, chattering against each other as it yawns, its maw opening wide enough for a head to be torn right off. Click, click, click. Chase closes his eyes, the repeating sounds like a mantra. He focuses on that instead. It grounds him.

"You have a history of nightmares."

Chase nods without looking. "I was prescribed triazolam by my first therapist. I took them for a year or so without changes except the lowering of doses a couple of times, because I was getting weaned off them. They helped. Nightmares didn't continue after that."

The other man nods slowly. "Hm. I can imagine the trauma of this recent event that you've been through was enough to bring these nightmares back to the forefront of your mind, especially given the contents of this dream in particular. We may have to ease you back onto medication over the course of your next few sessions here, which should be easier, given that it'll be a couple weeks before we send you home. Is that alright, Mr Brody?"

Click, click, click. Chase nods. Sunlight warms his face, and he sighs softly. "Sounds good, Dr. Ross. When will I be able to see my family?"

The man frowns, his forehead creasing. "Hopefully soon, although it will be slightly complicated, given the circumstances." A breath leaves him, and he tilts his head to the side slightly. His white collar digs into the fold of his neck. Chase keeps his eyes trained on that. "And these are strange circumstances, are they not?"

"They are," Chase mutters. He clenches his fists in his lap. "They are, yeah."

He should have died. He doesn't know why he didn't die. He doesn't even know what it was that killed the others. Really, the nightmare he'd had makes sense. It was easily written off as a traumatic event that had brought back old nightmares. Of course there was no way any of it had been real. That's ridiculous. Just ridiculous. He doesn't know why he's thinking that.

His hand trails down his shirt. Underneath, on the skin of his stomach, is a thick scar that hadn't been there before the nightmare he'd had. Right where the rod had pierced his stomach.

Coincidence. Coincidence.

"Do you have any other concerns, Mr Brody?"

"I don't believe so."

"Good."

Click. Click. Click.

[migleefulmoments]

"Hahaha. A friend pointed this out. W online shops too!" What does this even mean?! I don't know anyone in 2020 who doesn't online shop besides my 80 year old grandparents because they refuse to learn how to use a computer 😂 I don't get how Will, a 30 something year old man, online shopping is worthy enough for Abby to comment on it. I'm sure Chris does it too. And Darren.

On Nov 5, Darren wrote this post and the cc fandom lost their shit.    

They decided that organizing 10 costumes for multiple events in two different states for two different people was not worthy of acknowledgment- especially since they wore several purchased costumes. They spent the next 30-ish days mocking her “online shopping skills” like the petty idiots they are and now they bring it up two months later. 

Anonymous asked: this is funny, C posted a photo of beard, D posted photos with the beard. Almost like they were sitting next to each other and saying “ok ok I will say this”

ajw720 answered: The only difference, C controls his SM and the bearding, D does not, but they knew the Halloween post was coming when C posted his belated b-day wishes (not that he acknowledged they were late).  

It really is, if you can remove the very human, tragic element, like a script for a really bad D Movie.  C posts “Happy Birthday, Babe!” a day after the man’s actual b-day and “D” praises his fake bride for MAKING TEN costumes.  Sure praise her if she actually designed them and sat with her sewing machine.  No, she went online and ordered things (I doubt she even went to a store).   And 3 couple costumes were cheap frankly.  The only thought was how narcissistic she could be in their execution (as @flowersintheattic254pointed out even the Mario costume had  a reason, it was a reminder of Japan and the fake encagement by referring to the ad that paid for their trip there).

And seriously how are people not questioning that she spent the entirety of her month picking TEN costumes?  Who has time for this?  I know, i know, a person whose only role in life is to play fake plus one.

I am just so tired by D in particular being utterly dragged down by the useless dead weight by his side and his team’s sole ambition to promote her and make her sound like a decent person.  

If they wanted to praise her, maybe they should have forced her to participate in the zero waste initiative instead of sitting drinking by the pool or have her volunteer to help young girls who have been kicked out of their homes, or have been raped.  Or pick any cause and truly volunteer her time to promote it.  If she is not going to actually get a job and pursue a career, please force her to do something that is actually of value and contribute something good to the world. But to praise her for picking TEN costumes?  

Praise that comes from a man who this year alone won three awards, is starring in a show he created and wrote the music for, has his first big movie premiere this week, is exec producer and star of a huge show on N/etflix, just announced his starring role with 2 A++ lists actors next spring on Broadway, celebrated the 5th anniversary of the festival he created, volunteered his time for the zero waste initiative, performed at several charity events, and was just yesterday name limited series actor of the decade.  Where is the praise for him from his “bride”?  He at least deserves it.

How do they not see how ridiculous it is for someone with D’s accomplishments in 2019 alone praise a person for purchasing TEN costumes for Halloween?  And stans, how do you accept that this is right or normal.  You really know nothing about him and have such little respect for him as a person if you continue to accept the character his idiotic team has created on his behalf.  It is so far from the person he is and that he generally holds himself out to be when given the opportunity.  

This isn’t about being a “gay fetishist” or “hating woman” this is about wanting for D to be fairly and accurately represented and no longer forced to participate in this stupid, life sucking game to promote a person that contributes absolutely nothing to the world.  If you want to have a strong female role model, there are so many, i’ve talked about a few in the past few days (thus far Nancy, Lea, and Phoebe) and will continue to do so, but please stop worshiping a person whose sole reason you are speaking about her is her connection to D, even if you refuse to accept it is fake.  

klainecentric Finished reading the funniest ig story of the day, the qween being praised for sitting in front of either a sewing machine or computer...bravo your majesty qween....your my hero well done.👏👏. And all I can think of is how irrelevant the statement D made about being an emotional horder, being a very private person and finally D saying he's lazy when it comes to social media, I'm internally screaming in frustration because yeah we know D wouldn't have written a post praising that lazy good for nothing waste of space but he's coming across as a lier and it's extremely damaging to his character as a person. I absolutely hate lying and every time another "private" moment is posted to the world is another small piece that's chipped away from what D has originally stated about privacy. PBB, nobody cares about your cheap arse highly flammable costumes you buy online, did you forget about your piano baby adult strip club. I'm sure there are still plenty of people out there you can hire to rub and flaunt their flanges all over the beer taps, why don't you keep busy on that instead. If you want to make costumes, I'm sure you can sew some mighty fine titty tassels together. It'll be cheap nasty, sound familiar.

souly So, let me get this straight. We should all praise a person for going online, looking up different costumes in online stores, putting those in their shopping basket and hitting “buy”? Because I do that at least once a week with other stuff. Do I get praised for that now? Pretty please? I’m doing good work there and buy a lot of stuff, therefore I must be the best person ever!

notes-from-nowhere You’re my Queen. Please, love me.

souly

(I think I got it right. I’m getting the hang of what said person is doing. Wheee! ;))

notes-from-nowhere You nailed it 🤣

ajw720 Yesterday I got a delivery of car food. And instead of his usual seafood mix up greats, I got him shrimp flavor. I’m awesome!!!!!

souly Oh, hey! I think we should all take pictures of whatever we bought online during the week or month and make individual posts on all of our social media accounts about it. Because, you know…

cassie1022 I picked up stuff I ordered online at Target and PetSmart. Does that count? Should I receive accolades because my cat will have fresh litter to do her business on?

souly Only if you post the pictures to prove it! ;)

ajw720 As soon as I get home. Pictures forthcoming. Shrimp cat treats and I also got a burgundy blanket for my new comforter!!! Life goals!!!!!!!!!!!

souly Okay, so, let’s see… What did I buy online during the past month that can be shared as pictures? Some things are gifts, so I obviously can’t post anything about those yet. But I think these here are safe.

Let’s start with one of my fav new shirts. (Excuse the grainy quality. I had to quickly edit it for privacy reasons. :p And yes, that’s a butterfly mirror.)

The rest are behind the cut to save your dash from drowning in too many pictures. ;)

cheekyface72 You’re my queen from now on…

ajw720 I think emmy/sag/gg/CC winner DC should write a post @soulypraising your awesome, amazing, unparalleled online shopping skills!  You earned that praise.  That cat toy is particularly spectacular.

*********************

Just A Taste of M’s Amazing Online Shopping Skills that are worthy of such Praise

ajw720

Super Mario with inflatable Dragon $54.66 (x)

Princess Peach $78.99 (x)

chrisdarebashfulsmiles. i can’t

flowersintheattic254. When you add the fact that the wedding was sponsored so heavily, and her history of outfits I think it shows Mi@rren is something that’s always been done very much ‘on the cheap’.

From work vacays (honeymoon included), RC ‘glue gun’ looks, thrift shoes and subsidized weddings.

It’s BUDGET BEARDING!!!

leka-1998. It’s not worth more than this, that’s for sure.

notes-from-nowhere  We are so ungrateful. She worked hard to find the gloves.

I bet she had to click on another link to find them. She deserves another accolade.

ajw720 @flowersintheattic254 Budget Bearding!  I LOVE It! (and something tells me D’s SW costume in particular was far cheaper than either of these).

souly That Snow White dress can be found for about $25 in a ton of online shops. I stumbled upon it even before Halloween way too many times. 😂

@notes-from-nowhere The plush question mark block can be found in a couple online stores like this one. She simply glued it onto some gloves - or asked L to do it with that glue gun of hers.

flowersintheattic254 Well funnily enough I think we may have confirmation that 🚽🚽 glued on the puppies so I guess YES to the question mark block too!!!

cassie1022 They can’t even glue things properly. Why am I not surprised?

leka-1998

SW

So, so amazing. Bow to the kween and her not so helpful helper.

************************************

There are lots more...I figured enough of your brain cells died reading the ones I posted.  On Nov 30 she is STiLL bringing it up”

Anonymous asked:

Whenever I see miarren gifset they always use the same quote underneath (the rolling the windows down quote) and at first I rolled my eyes and thought uh not that quote again, and I can't believe it took me this long to realise it's because there is literally no other quote that can be construed as loving. You can hardly put down "she's a big girl" whenever you make a set of gifs with M beaming and D looking like someone murdered the dog he's allergic to.

ajw720: And I love the Emmy quote as it was an absolute reference to his character who was a psychopath. Pretty telling if you ask me. But that reference is over their heads.

And pretty much the only one. Guess saying he’s a ball and chain kind of guy isn’t romantic. They can’t even take pooping exes as he clearly steered the conversation away from her. Lovely lady of many moons? Nah she sounds like a stranger. Saying nothing changes after marriage? Sounds boring. It’s a struggle. But hey she’s an excellent online shopper that he done got hitched to!!!

[thenovelist101]

Wandered

Chapter Five

    If Vincent was told to recall his memories of education, it would be a mush of vivid memories out of context. Him getting a 100 on a test he thought he would fail, scribbling down his homework before class started, people using his paper to scribble down their homework before class started, trying not to fart too loudly in a quiet class, dozing off, laughing at a stupid remark a classmate made, making paper cubes when class went slow. All the little stuff.

     Of course it always stuck out to him that he was the only one knowing of Magic. He never told, because he would feel very much better if the class had been taught the lesson first. There had to be a lesson, right?

    School was one big building with two floors. The first floor was for all the younger classes and the top was for the older classes. Next to the building was the preschool which Mirai would have went to.  

    That was something which saddened him. It was always "If Mirai could have-" or " Mirai would have-" She was magic, and for him that was fine. Now if only everyone felt the same way...

     Vincent avoided home for one very specific reason: home was hollow. He felt a feeling of tension that was so unbearable that he would stay out as long as possible until he could come home, have a curt conversation with his parents, and talk to his sister. Then he would go to bed and do it again.

     What he would do with his outside time was make things.

     A part of Vincent's craftsmanship skill was that he could continue getting dirty and work on his little business of handing out free toys. To him the slingshots were the easiest.

     He would take four strong branches that were broken. One would be longer than the other three. He used tree sap to stick it all together. One small stick would be laid on top of long stick horizontally (the handle) and the last two sticks sat vertically on the two ends (poles) of the horizontal stick. Then he would get a stretchy fabric and cut off a strip and glue it to the two sticks that acted as poles. One dried, Vincent would do a quick test: put a small pebble into the fabric and pulled it back. Then he aimed. If it worked he tossed it with the rest and never played with it again.

      The children were all impressed by this. The Vincent Rowan Merger had a special talent. It was something people starved to have. People always knew where to find Vincent for a repair or an amendment. After age 11 he was tired of making rock slingers (more so the teacher slapped every one who was in on the atrocious behavior with these toys).

       "Who's in charge of this foolish black market?" The teacher called, holding up a broken puppet made of tree bark and strings. Everyone was more than happy to point at Vincent.

       Vince felt the heat rise in his cheeks as he slid down into his seat, trying to be invisible. "Well then, Rowan Merger, what do you have to say for yourself?" "Please don't tell my parents." He mumbled. The class laughed.. Vincent felt ashamed at himself. The teacher told them to settle down while she took a seat down on her chair.

        Vincent watched her as everyone was reading the poems from the red book, but could feel hopeless. He wasn't upset that the class ratted him out, but that puppet was now gone.

       He made it for Mirai. Since she was only six, he knew she wouldn't care about how disgusting and appealing it looked.

Now it was confiscated with every other thing he made that were found in children's knapsacks. Probably going in the trash. He thought, and after class went to dig it up to not find it in any trash bin.

         When he walked outside, he sat on the bench wondering what to do. His legs were swinging back and forth and watched the younger children play hop-scotch and rockfalls. He could see the kids setting the rocks up, all different shapes and sizes.

      He saw a group of girls from his class dissembling out of the building. He could easily overhear their conversation. "I've got to throw this doll away, it's driving me mad." Vince could immediately head the distinct voice of Lana.    

"Yes, you should." said her henchwoman of a friend. "But, it's really cute, you could give it to your sister." A girl with pigtails and growing chest added thoughtfully. "Not a chance," Lana said. "I'm a woman now, bleeding and everything."

       Vincent grimaced at that. Bleeding? What was that about, he did not know.

       "Whatever, I'll just leave it on the floor and hope for the best." Lana propped it next to the pole of the school gates, and her group left.

       Vincent audibly laughed at the situation and went over and picked it up. It was a light pink bunny with a loosened eye button and slightly torn ear. "It's perfect." He mumbled under his breath. "What is?" He turned around to see a girl with freckles, light skin, and sea-green eyes.

      "Nadia, hi." He said awkwardly. Nadia was a very quiet girl, she hardly ever spoke and usually read a book during lunch. Her family was from Seasen, which the teacher thought was lovely when she moved in two years ago.

      "Um, this doll." He found this slightly embarrassing— his parents taught him how to talk and act rich, yet here he was scouring the streets for an old doll.

      Nadia clenched here books and scanned the doll for a quick second. "It looks nice." She said. Vincent shrugged. He didn't know how to talk to girls. "Where are you going?" She asked. "Um, home. Want to walk?" She shrugged.

      The two walked him together, and talked about cookies.

       In school, the teacher came back inside the classroom to grade papers. She put the puppet she showed the other teachers inside a drawer with all the other items. She had not thrown them away. They would be quite handy for later.

—————————————

   Like a modern nerd, Vincent looked for a safer way to play. Turns out it was easier than he expected and it took a few years to see it. On the year he turned 14 the teacher had them go on a trip to play around in the wood workshop nearby. This was the year where students would be looking at different fields of work, to see what they would want to do.

     The experience was charming for the men but the women simply just stayed to the side whispering about fine bodies and  how concentrated the boys were. Vincent was most likely not on this list, he wasn't born with good looks, he'd earn them when puberty came.

     Vince he cut his finger and a small drop of blood leaked. He wiped it on his trousers and turned to the women talking with the teacher. He looked around him and saw four saws and plenty of tools and wood to be used.

     He shrugged to himself and walked over to them. He wasn't the type to 'talk', but he knew how to be social when the time need it. "Hello." Vince said. The girls looked at him confused and awkward. "Ooh, what's this? My buddy Vincey talking with the ladies."

     That was Lowry, a bright red headed boy that was not as sexist as everyone else. He was awfully friendly and weird so it was hard not to like him.

     He softly punched Vince's arm as he walked by. Vincent rolled his eyes.

    "There's plenty of tools and stuff to play with. Give it a try. You can't have all the males do all the work can you?" "...but we can." said Lana.

      As the leader of the pact, not the richest, the girls followed her statement and started laughing.

     Vincent felt the embarrassment crawling into his skin. So in agitation, Vince gave them a couple of words. "That's not funny.  There's plenty of women complaining about sexism and I know very well it bothers all of you. It bothers me too, but how are you going to change anything if you're going to be so stereotypical right now?" He felt there would also be people reserved and had no interest, and internally scolded himself for. "Well, it's always open. No ones judging... except for Orion."

    Orion was the fattest jerk on the block. Even he knew, but he didn't stop to change anything about it.

    When Vincent went back to his station he tinkered with the few blocks he had on his desk. Something simple... he thought. He had Mirai specifically in mind. Something that was easy to play with and pick up, but also can be used for creativeness. He snapped his fingers and wrote the diagram down. Then he heard the an extra pair of saws swishing back and forth. He turned around to see Lana and her crew trying to saw a big piece of wood on a visor. They were all laughing about how absurd this was and confused on what on earth to do. Even the teacher looked apprehensive while laughing. Vince smiled to himself.

    Vincent found his new toy—to put in technical standpoints— a series of levers that were made by small polished rectangular prisms.

    He brought them to class one day and the whole class simple stared. "Are they building blocks? Because that's not very innovative." Lana said. "Well I don't think it would be, considering Vince made it. He makes a lot of simple things interesting." said Nadia. Vince tried to hide the small smile from that comment. "Watch your tongue." The teacher said softly. "Sorry." She said.

Here's a concept: It's considered rude to call a man or woman that isn't in any special relation to you, their first name. No one understood this rule, but it was how they were taught nonetheless. Vince never understood this. Sometime's he'd always slip up and say their first name, then get a dunce cap.

He remembered when he accidentally called out Lowry's real name. Why he called attention to him was that he dropped a piece of paper on the floor. The class was quietly working, and he called out to him walking back to his seat. "Hey Sebastian!" He blurted. The red head turned around and stared at him, along with the everyone else in the class. "Erm, you dropped you paper..." "Thanks." He said quietly.

He got the dunce cap— as expected— and thought long and hard about why everyone was so paranoid when formalities were broken

"I'm sorry." Vince said after school. "It's alright. I don't really mind. I don't like my name. It's, eh." Vincent smiled."Whatever ever you say Lowry."

     Resuming back to the copyright dominoes, Vincent cleared his throat. "Watch." He stood them up vertically next to each other in a straight line, then tipped one over. The class gasped and awed in astonishment, as if they were five year olds again. "Can I take these for myself?" Orion asked. "No, you mashiman. There for Vincent." "Sam, don't say that." Lowry urged. Vincent's smile turned into a faded frown. 

       A few weeks ago, they had a lesson on magic. It's origins and how it was unethical and people with it were sent to destroy humanity. For a split second through it, he felt embarrassed. Then he quickly discarded and was washed over with regret.

     "But like, what if you're born with it and like, you don't want to be bad. Can't you be good?" The class muttered in agreements with the boy's sentiments.

"Well put it this way. Who's scared of a rat king?" Everyone's hands shot up. "Well then, the rats may be doing it for a good cause, but you're still going to hate it, because it's a rat king." "Ooooh." The class went to immediate side conversations for a few seconds until the teacher pulled them back into class.  

    Vincent was quiet and slouched in his seat, drawing different shapes to pass the time. That answer didn't fulfill his inquiries. Why? Mirai's not bad. You didn't even meet her. She's just a normal girl that likes chocolate chip cookies. Who also just so happens to have abnormal abilities.

    The next day, the term was made into a use of slang. It was first with Orion —it was always Orion— who blamed it on a child in class that supposedly made Orion's books topple over. "It was like he had magic!" Orion sputtered. The kid's face reddened in embarrassment.

      Orion got the dunce cap and wore it in the corner during class.

      Soon everyone was using the word like a normal swear, and continued getting the dunce cap. The teacher swore she drove them crazy. "I'm going to turn you all to the Mayor!" She snapped. "Unless any of you are hiding magical people in your basements, there is no reason for you to be saying such devilish things!"

       "Well, Vincent never had said anything this past month. I doubt he has ANYTHING to do with the mayor." A girl named Tina said. "Yeah, but that's probably because him and his mayor are pretty tight, y'know what I mean? Goin' to those rich dinner parties. Must be nice to be friends with the government." Another boy said. The class roared with laughter while Vincent stared out the window.

    Vince made a swift smirk as if he were bored but amused.

     "Vincent is probably the whitest, richest, and least magic person to ever exist." Lana stated, closing her textbook. "If you didn't get that right." a girl answered.

     Vincent said nothing, and only starting to look out the window again. If only they knew, he thought If only they knew.

     So after their teacher's warning, they mushed the words together into an unruly term. "Mashiman."

     Vincent had guiltily used this word as well, to go along with the crowd. He would never tell this to Mirai. It was an unfathomable secret he could never tell. It was like telling someone else that your best friend was an inconsiderate slut behind their back.

——————-

    At age 16 he got his first apprentice letter. It was the beginning of class that day and Vincent was a little late. While everyone was doing their own thing, he sat down on his wooden desk. He peered over to see the white letter sitting on his desktop. He could see the thin strokes of black ink on it. It was meticulous and articulated. It was from a blacksmith. He started to scrape off the wax cover.

    The intense scraping attracted everyone's attention, all eyes to the boy who had something they didn't.

   "Look what Merger has!" A black youth cried. "It looks like a letter." Lowry said. Lana rolled her eyes. "Obviously." Everyone started huddling around Vince as he carefully opened the envelope.

    "Why is it here?" Asked a girl. "Applications?" Lowry suggested. "That's impossible! No one's supposed to get those until next year!" "Shut up Orion." said a boy with tan skin. "Everyone please sit in your seats and leave Vince alone." The teacher scolded.

    No one paid attention. Vince unfolded the paper to see messy and sloppy penmanship on it. Definitely from a blacksmith, Vincent thought. The letter was assigned to him by a blacksmith in Collins. He asked if he could come to Collins to work with him. Vincent's hairs shot up on his arms.

     It took him a second to think this over.

    Collins.

     .

     .

     .

     What?

     The Blacksmith whose name was Monroe, liked the machines he rebuilt and modeled. There were several gasps and cheers of congratulations in the back. Vincent's heart was pounding.

     "Holy crap!" He blurted. It was like getting accepted into an ivy college at the age of starting high school. He looked up at the teacher and she winked. His jaw dropped.

    She actually sent his models to people. "Yeah Vincent!" Lowry said shaking his shoulders. Everyone was chanting his name— except Orion. Then the teacher cursed at all of them to sit in their seats and the class quickly quieted down.

      Well, not everyone. Some stayed to the side and gave him mean glances. They probably thought he got the letter because he had money, or maybe his parents did bribery.  

      Vincent would love to prove to them that he got the letter fair and square, but he wouldn't. It wasn't his problem, or more so he didn't like speaking.

     Vincent slumped in his seat rereading the words over and over again. He was sweating and fidgety. His pinched himself several times to make sure it was real. For a moment he felt more than happy to show the note to his parents, get the praise, and have them throw another annoying party filled with aristocrats.

      His eyes were stinging, and he rubbed them. No tears came out. He hadn't cried in a while, the last time he did was when Grandfather died.

         While class was going, he didn't really pay attention. His mind was too focused on the possibilities of today happening. 

    Grandfather, oh my god. Did you do this? Did you change the teacher's threats of throwing my stuff away? Oh my god. I miss you.

      Vincent's inaudible conversations with his always ended like that. With an I miss you.   

        He clenched the note tightly and went up to his teacher when school was done for the day. "Ma'am, thank you." His voice was shaky, and a little awkward.   "Thank you Vincent. For being, well, a good kid with... weird quirks. Make sure to behave at Collins." "I will!" He said nodding his head rapidly. The levity of the situation made him feel light in his toes.

    After school he flew out of the classroom, the apprentice letter rolled and encased inside his closed fist. The sun was shining and the street was wet for yesterday's rain. He felt a little uneasy, but he was sure everything would be alright.

    In the meantime that day, a girl with abnormal powers was on the purge of stealing.