#I've been burnt out for so goddamn long

[daffythefox]

I don't want. to live

[angel-of-the-moons]

A Rose Under The Moon

Moon Knight System (Marc, Jake, Steven) x Fem!Reader

TW/CW: Angst. Angst angst angst! Mentions of childhood trauma, child abuse, self-doubt

A/N: I'm sorry this took so long guys, I've been going through... well, a lot lately and it pained me because I wanted to work on so much but I've been so emotionally-burnt out I've been struggling creatively (Yet again falling into the age-old trap of "My stuff is never as good as ___'s" that many of us struggle with)

But I'm hoping, that with this, I can start to feel a bit better!

Taglist: @bad4amficideas @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @shirukitsune @lokisremainingsanity @mundivagantsoul @furblrwurblr @zoleea-exultant @latenightcravingz @daygirl26 @thelastemzy @leahnicole1219 @marsmallow433 @crazyunsexycool @oscarissac2099 @littlenosoul @animechick555 @capsiclesworldsblog @cloudroomblog @lov3vivian @princessakirika

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Chapter 10:

On The Wings Of An Icarus

Jake knew Layla still didn’t fully trust him, based on his propensity for violence. Hell, he wouldn’t be surprised if she downright hated him, and only tolerated him and spoke politely to save face, for Marc and Steven’s sake.

But, god help him if he didn’t go all out after that night; the night he noticed your soul mark. He showed no mercy on those that Khonshu dispensed him after. Layla practically had to knock him out to get him off; and if he didn’t reign in his control when he did, Marc and Steven would have known something was up. That calm, cool, and collected Jake had cracked because of something and he knew they would attempt to either front or co-front to find out what had shaken him so.

He fisted the glass in his gloved hand, reigning himself in just enough to avoid cracking it.

Three crescent moons, all connected. Each one waxing or waning depending on who was in control of their body or simply co-fronting. You said so yourself.

God, who else could that be referencing if not he, Marc, and Steven? He doubted it was just a goddamned coincidence.

It killed him that he had to keep it a secret from the two of them, but he had no choice. It hurt worse knowing that he wouldn’t be able to tell you–probably never.

You were so… so close. And so far. Like a mirage of an oasis in the desert, always on the horizon, tangible enough to see but not close enough to touch, to hold in his hands.

But… even if they couldn't approach you as their soulmate... Jake could at least let Marc and Steven have you as their friend. Maybe that would assuage the tugging he already knew that they felt.

He had to think of an excuse for if–when–they noticed your mark… Steven would most likely notice it first; he had a habit of looking anywhere else other than someone’s face when he conversed with them, picking at his oversized sleeves and keeping his eyes moving while over-informative words poured from his mouth. Marc was… less observant to such things.

But he would definitely notice if he spent more time with you (not as significantly as Steven does, but still), Marc would get comfortable, enough to let his eyes wander, to open himself up to you. After all… you were their soulmate, it was only natural to feel safe enough around the other half of your very existence, to let your guard down. It was a dangerous game Jake was betting on, being so close to you. He wanted to keep you away, to keep you safe.

But… was it so wrong they have this? Even just a friend? All the horrors they'd been subjected to, the pain, the abuse, the loss… Would it still be so bad to have you, even in that tiny capacity?

But at the same time… if Khonshu tried to use you as leverage–assuming he didn't already know about you–he wouldn't be able to contain himself if something happened under Khonshu’s supervision, as lax as it could be at times.

If someone hurt you? Fuck, he would snap.

He would fight and keep fighting until whoever it was was a bloody mass of pulp and bone fragments.

He looked into his glass of bourbon, a smoky honey flavor that tasted like it had been aged close to a decade. A bit pricey, given the pub he was at, but he needed something right now, something strong enough to numb his mounting anxiety.

His hand slid beneath his jacket to touch his shirt, his gloved fingers knotting in the crisp white fabric as he remembered the night when that human trafficker stabbed him, and he subsequently ripped the knife out.

He'd apologized to you, then, without realizing it was you he apologized to, for being so reckless.

But now that he knew... the guilt came back. How could he be so reckless? So foolhardy as to not take note of his surroundings to prevent that?

You could feel each other's pain. That realization made the abuse he and Marc–and even Steven to a degree–suffered with as a child even worse. The pain your tiny, frail body probably felt–the burns, the welts, the patches of ripped out curls…

He remembered, when he first came into existence; when it got too bad, he would front momentarily to take the worst of the injuries Wendy would inflict upon their poor young body. Marc didn't even know what was happening in the beginning, nor did Steven.

But Jake always knew.

It was like his burden, his own personal curse as the protector. He was cursed with the knowledge that he knew things he couldn't tell others, to protect everyone around him.

Marc, Steven, Layla…

And now you, it seemed.

How could he…

“Jake?” Layla asked, her hand gripping his thick forearm in her small, soft hand, her dark brows pinched upwards in concern. “You were… spacing. Looked like you were thinking about killing someone.” She added.

Jake pinched the bridge of his nose tightly, hissing between his teeth. He could feel it, Marc–or perhaps Steven–threatening to swim to the surface of their headspace to investigate the turmoil and inner upset Jake was overthinking on.

“Lo siento.” He muttered, looking at her for a moment before tipping the glass and downing the last mouthful of bourbon before continuing. “I was…”

“Thinking about her. I can tell.” She admitted, turning her barstool so she could face him, her lips pursed in a thin line.

This was difficult. With Marc and Steven, Layla always knew an approach. But with Jake, she never bothered to learn one. She didn't trust him–not fully, yet–so she never felt the need. From how she found out about him, how the other two figured out that they weren’t the only two inhabiting the body… He never really gave Layla an “in”, so to speak; to learn more and break past those emotional barriers that crumbled when she spoke to Marc or Steven. Damn him and his apparent emotional stoicism!

But seeing just how tortured she finally realized he felt… yeah, Jake did bad things on behalf of that old codger, Khonshu, but…

He carried so much weight on his own shoulders, withheld so much pain to protect others that he may as well have been Atlas, doomed to carry the world on his back for all eternity, never being able to shirk the weight like the mythological person.

It dawned on her, that night on the rooftop over your shop and flat, just how little she truly knew about Jake Lockley.

She didn't know anything she didn't want to know, even from Marc or Steven's mouth. It was just her way, after her father died and Marc fell into her life; to not ask too many questions so she could sleep just a wink better than the nights before.

Jake was violent, scary, methodical… but was he really? Or did she just paint him that way to justify her distrust over the fact Khonshu still used him as Moon Knight and used him to rope poor Marc and Steven back into the role as his Fist?

He wasn't some scary boogeyman, he was… a guy. A guy who loved his “brothers”, his friends, who protected–and loved–fiercely and with his whole being. A man now struggling with the weight of flinging himself into the very instincts so many throughout their lives craved to feel when they finally found their soulmate, or simply denying the possible bliss of being cradled in your loving arms, spending the rest of your lives together…

“Sí, it's… I'm trying to think of a way to keep Marc and Steven in the dark. Maybe if… if I just let them think of her as a friend...” He sighed.

Layla frowned. Okay that was another reason that reminded her why she didn't fully trust him, yet. The fact he was willing to hide such important things from Marc and Steven to “protect” them.

Yes, it was important to protect them, but some things are just inevitable, bound to be found out.

It's the difference between ripping off a bandage or pulling a child out of a clean room.

Pulling off the bandage, yeah, it'll hurt for a moment but it will pass.

However, if you put a child inside of a sterile bubble, the moment that bubble bursts, their immune system will be compromised and they won't be able to adjust to the changing environment around them…

“Jake… sometimes you just have to rip off the band-aid.” Layla replied. “You won't be able to hide this–hide her–from them forever.”

He wiped at his face, and made a frustrated groan. The buzz of the alcohol did little to ease his concerns. After all, once he took up the mantle tonight, his buzz would evaporate like dew beneath the summer sun. Not that London saw much of that these days.

“I know, Layla. I'm just… trying to buy time.”

“Jake… when it comes to your soulmate…” Layla said, giving him a sympathetic look.

“You don't have enough money in the world to do that. It will happen. Whether you're all ready for it or not.”

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Jake hadn't slept well that night. Marc and Steven needed a break, so they were still in the back of his mind, in the headspace, not really conscious of what Jake had been doing inside the body. They thankfully agreed to let Jake assume control, to give his headmates a much-needed break.

“Just like old times?” Layla had quipped sardonically, and, of course, Jake had to pretend the comment didn't hurt him at all. It did, but… he still didn't want her to feel bad about saying it.

Sure, he's done questionable and sometimes horrible things, but it was all for them. Marc, Steven, Layla, innocent people, and now… you.

Beautiful, sweet, oblivious you.

He'd started coming to your shop more, under the excuse that you had good coffee (which honestly you begged to differ, it was merely stuff you bought in bulk at the market) and the quiet atmosphere was more relaxing than a regular cafe; which even you agreed was rather dead. Many people didn’t stop in for a cuppa when simply buying old sci-fi novels…

Jake had even gone so far as to bring the stacks of books that Steven had been meaning to bring to you for a trade-in credit, just for another excuse to come in to see you.

It was all to keep you safe, to make sure nobody bothered you, to make sure you were doing okay.

He promised himself there was nothing less.

But even so, you were the candle flame to his moth, and he was drawn to you.

Drawn to you, but knowing if they got too close or touched you, they would burn, and there would be no going back once they did. What was that saying about flying too close to the sun?

He just… he couldn't let any of you know that he knew. As painful as it was to admit, he was already falling for you and he couldn’t bear to face it for fear of throwing caution to the wind and losing it all.

Not until today, not until he went to the market down the block, in search of something to cook for dinner. It was pouring outside, despite the forecasters saying to expect sleet. No, no, of course it wouldn't be sleet. It was just freezing cold rain. Rain that felt like tiny frozen icicles hitting his skin in fat droplets.

He shook his jacket, the droplets falling from the leather and onto the large carpet beneath his feet at the entrance. After that, Jake pulled his cap back up and nodded politely to the greeter and proceeded his way inside. He was craving something, but wasn’t sure what. Something with a little kick, something with meat. So, undecided on what in particular he wanted to eat, he settled for wandering the aisles, randomly picking up items here and there, pretending to read the labels until he made up his fractured mind.

“Jake? Jake Lockley?”

His head whipped up so quickly he almost felt his vertebrae snap when he lifted his eyes to meet yours, innocent and twinkling as you appeared so sure of your guess. You were instinctively right, of course, but the inner jokester within him was tempted to fake Marc’s voice to mess with you.

He shoved his hands into his jeans–mostly to conceal how badly they were shaking–and tossed you what he hoped was a charming, convincing smirk, “Ah. Caught me red-handed, Rosa. How’d you guess?”

“Well, aside from the fact you’re wearing your trademarked hat and jacket…” You playfully tapped your nose and winked at him. “...You look like you just caught a whiff of–and stepped in--horse shit.”

Jake couldn’t suppress himself, chuckling and shaking his head, “That’s a… unique way of putting it.”

“I’m full of surprises!” You beamed proudly, “So, what’re you here for? I don’t think I’ve bumped into you here, before!”

“Ah, I’m here to… well, find something to eat. Or well, more accurately, something to cook to eat.” He sighed and tipped his head. “I might just buy a frozen dinner and call it a night.”

The offended gasp his comment elicited from you made butterflies flitter about in his belly. He felt like a teenager talking to the popular girl he had a crush on in school.

“Oh no you will not! So many of those have awful preservatives and just aren’t healthy for you!” You tut, reminding him so much of Steven. He couldn’t hold back his smile as you ranted and spoke about healthy eating habits, honestly reminding him of Steven in this moment.

His attention began to wonder as he took in every bit of your face–every blemish or thing you may consider yourself to be an imperfection, tracing every dip and contour of your cheeks, nose, and the slope of your jaw…

“You know what–” You huffed, the hand that wasn’t holding your basket firmly planted on your hip. “No. Why don’t you come have dinner with me? The thought of you making something like some yucky frozen meatloaf is just… blegh.”

Jake felt his brain record-scratch, finally being pulled out of his admiring stupor. “I–what? Oh, no, no, I don’t think that…” He floundered.

Him! The Jake Lockley, left without a quip to be uttered!

“Nah.” You say, walking past him. “I'm making you dinner. C’mon, I’ll need help grabbing stuff.”

On sheer instinct, he followed you like an obedient puppy. “Look, uh, I…”

“Not takin’ no for an answer, Lockley. Now, c’mon!”

The man was hopeless. All he could do was admire your figure and personality once again. Sweet, gentle–but also fiery and bull-headed when it suited you.

Jake fished his phone out of his pocket and pulled up Layla’s number, texting;

“Order something out for dinner, La-La… It looks like I have plans.”

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Chapter 11: Link

[sillystarters]

it's always sunny in philadelphia season sixteen starter sentences.

starter sentences taken from episodes one - three from season sixteen of it's always sunny in philadelphia. part one of ??

have you ever seen teenage mutant ninja turtles ?

you spent close to $20,000 on a couch you never owned.

that's pretty bad business fellas.

now listen i have glued my hand to a door so they can't physically remove me.

you know, i know stuff.

that's money talk right there.

how much nut do you go through a month?

are you storing up your nut or are you blowing through it?

i'll give you fifty cents for a buck.

come, have a seat.

it was super cheap dude.

well listen, i don't really have any interest in your bulk tin of low end economy nuts.

yeah don't make a mess.

what's behind that door?

holy shit! what the fuck is this?

i wasn't tryin' to be crypto about it.

this is tits!

can i sleep in here?

we're gonna blow our shoes out with all this walking.

how is this not a big deal?

move past it dude, move past it man.

i really ultimately don't give a shit.

did you glue your hand to my door?

i can tell you're mad.

i can't deal with this.

and just leave me here all alone?

i don't wanna be a bad host.

you know what, this was a mistake.

i can't sleep.

what is going on with you dude?

what you workin' on there bud?

is that thing loaded, by the way?

get off my back.

you know what? screw this.

i am in the prime of my life.

okay so it was loaded, my mistake. don't be so dramatic.

it's not like anybody's in any real danger.

getting shot in the face is pretty cool.

i do care about the money though.

i got some bad news for ya, bud.

i figured you probably forgot too or something.

did you try to pull out your own teeth?

i'm so sorry.

i didn't have the heart to tell you.

those ungrateful bitches.

i can't believe you did this!

i'm not mad at you okay? it's fine.

you did make a mistake.

i didn't mean to upset you.

this is not working.

should we just attack him and take it?

shut up!

this is my worst nightmare in my entire life.

she burnt the shit outta me.

i got a little surprise for ya.

you wanna take it easy? goddamn. just one bite at a time.

ha! i almost ate my gun.

i hope everyone brought their appetite because i made quiche!

this is like, everything you've ever wanted.

that is ... sad.

this is so annoying.

alright, where to now?

a perfect day can't last forever.

what the hell are you doing?

you're outta control with that thing.

just barge right in okay don't be shy.

oh my god what are you doing here?

this is so distasteful.

asmr, dickweed!

how long has it been?

that's a definite pass for me.

this is a million to one shot and i've got a really good feeling about this.

our luck just turned around.

i don't wanna have my ass handed to me.

we have a problem.

whatever you do, don't laugh.

this is bad, dude.

what? why are you trying to break my door down at three in the morning?

i just wanted to ask if you could kindly keep the noise down.

this was very sweet of you to bake these for me.

it's a trophy, see? it says cunt of the year. that's you!

bad things are going to happen to you one day. i guarantee it.

you earned it!

we're not having bad luck, we're having good luck.

come here you rat! die!

it's time to make good on your end of the bargain.

what is your deal, man?

i'm going to beat you with my shoe!

we gotta take this seriously.

go make your apologies!

i'm done listening to this.

'just in case' is as good of a reason to believe in anything as any.

i don't believe in that bullshit.

well, that's not good.

that's a bad omen!

boy, that's a shame.

thank you for this.

i'm just trash right? that's what you said.

i got you a sixer!

i gotta show you something but you gotta keep it a secret.

you're not following.

it makes literally no sense.

a moment of your time?

i'm sorry your dad doesn't like you.

[youreobsessedwithtoomanyfandoms]

Stop...You're Losing Me

Words: 872

Warnings: angst, no dialogue, probably poor writing and OOC characters but whatever

DC Masterlist Main Masterlist Join My Taglist

Takes place a few years after Bruce adopted Dick and a few before Dick left. Y/N, also from a big and prominent Gotham family, and Bruce have been together for 6, going on 7, years

Sorry that this took so long! I kept getting distracted while writing it/lost motivation. Plus I've been really busy this summer (saw Waterparks & Bring Me The Horizon/Fall Out Boy and I've been seeing different films and getting into other things, but I still love DC! I even finally finished the films for the DCAU)

Also this whole thing is NO HATE to Selina. I love that woman more than anything. She's just the one of Bruce's love interests I'm the most familiar with (followed by Talia then maybe Vicki?)

Based off of her new and technically unreleased song, You're Losing Me by Taylor Swift, specifically the bridge and outro

Part 1 here

Anywho, enjoy

Love Z <3

Y/N stood across the room from Bruce. The moment after they walked into the room together, hand in what she was starting to think was an unloveable hand, Bruce had dropped it. He dropped it and immediately made his way to Selina Kyle.

She sighed as she grabbed a glass as a waiter walked by with them on his little tray. If she was going to have to go through another one of these events where Bruce made a promise beforehand just to immediately break, she didn't want to have to go through it sober.

She didn't want to have to take another night of her and her champagne problems sober again.

--------

Five hours had passed and Y/N knew that Bruce was not planning on leaving any time soon. She had already called Alfred for him to come pick her up. She was tired and felt pathetic. Finally burnt out from trying to keep her and Bruce afloat for so long just for him to always push her aside.

So many times had she tried to stay and be brave for them. Stay and not act like she was dying behind the scenes. She was tired of the constant begging for his attention. The constant reminding him that she was right there by his side, fighting for him, supporting him unconditionally.

But she was finally done.

Done with the rumors and the reports. Being left alone at parties and events. Promises that they would work it out but then Selina would show her face and he would float towards her.

Even when Y/N was right there in the best-dammed dress she owned. Looking and being the best damn thing at the goddamned party.

And as she sat in the car next to Alfred with a sleeping Dick in the back, she couldn't help but stare at her hand. In most relationships, there would be a ring on it. But there was nothing. And it wasn't that she didn't get why that was. She lived to make everyone else happy first. It was a compulsive act of hers. So often she would get sleepless nights just trying to make sure no one would come and sneak up on Bruce during his Batman nights while finishing up a report that was needed. She would always do it.

But the reality was that she just needed Bruce to be there and remind her he was. Perhaps that was why she wished there was some ring on her finger to signify that. To remind her that Bruce has and will always be hers.

And when they got back to the Manor, she ushered Alfred to go finish whatever it was he had been doing before and she would get Dick to bed, those thoughts still stayed in her head.

As she readied herself to sleep and Bruce still hadn't returned, the thoughts stayed.

As she laid in bed, body facing the door and his side of the bed, the continued rampant.

Worry that maybe she wasn't good enough for him anymore. That he was happier when around someone like Selina.

Someone more like him.

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It would be worse the following days after these events. Those feelings of doubt and betrayal. Days when she wouldn't be able to do anything without an article reminding her that Bruce never said a thing to her the entire night. That she left alone. That he had his arm around Selina for most of the night. That they had left together.

Every single time she saw one, she prayed that she would see something about Bruce defending her. Bruce saying it was a lie. Him saying anything.

But it never came.

And she knew it was with the fear that he would ruin his reputation. But at this point, she didn't care. All that she wanted was for him to do something. Say something. To lose or risk something. To choose something. Chose anything. Even if it wasn't her. Because truly, she had nothing to get from him anymore. Because all of this made her just think that she had nothing anymore.

--------

So when it was the dead of the night. When he was off being Batman, she finally gave up. She finally grabbed the bags and stuffed everything into them. Stuffed all that she could before he got home.

She no longer could find a pulse in their relationship to cling on to

And the moments following when Bruce got back, he was confused. She was there in the Batcave, head laying on the keyboard as she was falling asleep. She wasn't jumping up, excited that he was back. It was silence.

A silence that cut the air.

A silence that stayed as he walked up and to their shared his room.

A silence that stayed as he opened the door to find the bed made.

That stayed as he walked into the bathroom to find all of her things gone.

That stayed when he ran into the closet to her clothes and shoes gone.

That stayed as he slumped onto their his bed.

That stayed because he had finally done it. He had finally lost her. Because all of her warnings and worries finally became the truth and reality.

[causeitsagame]

UNTITLED ANGSTPROMPT THE FOURTH (OF FOUR)

(At some point, I will find a real title and put it up on AO3. Watch this space!)

My thought when posting the previous chapter: "I don't want to draw out a resolution too far, so I'll promise that there is only one more chapter to go." Me, finishing this chapter while upholding that intention and seeing it brush the 9k word mark: "Well,"

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Hajime didn't know what to do.

That wasn't supposed to be possible. He'd been warped and molded and repurposed into the world's Ultimate Goddamn Hope, and that Hope was supposed to have all the answers. But he didn't. He hadn't been able to stop the assault on Jabberwock, and the desperate sacrifice play there had been made by someone else.

Plus, he hadn't even known that particular sacrifice could happen. Talents could only be studied if they were demonstrated, and this wasn't the sort of thing that got shown off to Hope's Peak. And so now, Fuyuhiko was bruised and beaten and hollowed out, and Peko didn't know anything more about how those memories were lost, and Hajime didn't know what to do.

He leaned against the ship's railing and studied the water, unsure of what he was looking for.

Eventually, a voice spoke up. "Hajime?"

He glanced over his shoulder at Ryota. "Yeah?"

Ryota pointed to an insulated travel mug. "It's time for this, again. Do you want to…?" He was the one on the ship who wasn't taken much aback by Fuyuhiko not recognizing him, and he'd made fully half of the infirmary visits so far.

Hajime shook his head. Inside that mug was broth from a pot that Teruteru kept simmering. The calories were important; the warmth, more so. Due to injuries, malnutrition, and low weight, Mikan had diagnosed poikilothermia, or an inability to regulate body temperature. She planned to be in the infirmary constantly until it resolved, and that was a good enough excuse not to be there himself. "No. Thanks."

It probably made him a despicable coward, but he couldn't see Fuyuhiko's condition and know that he was responsible for it. He couldn't watch Fuyuhiko look at him like a total stranger and know that it was because Fuyuhiko had cared more about Hajime than about himself. If Hajime had an idea of what to do next, he'd face down all of that in service of getting it fixed… but he didn't know what to do.

Hajime shook his head again, and Ryota silently walked away.

Memories had been burnt away in torture's incinerator and he was the motivation behind it all. How was he supposed to handle that? Seriously, how in the hell was he supposed to manage his thoughts, his emotions? The gutpunch of nausea that gripped him every time his imagination wandered to the infirmary?

Memory loss aside, this wasn't like Izuru. Fuyuhiko hadn't been scoured away and turned into someone else. Logically, that was a huge relief; emotionally, it somehow made it worse. He was still totally him, voice and expressions and powerful personality. There wasn't anyone to identify and retrieve. He was Fuyuhiko Kuzuryuu, the same as ever… but he just had absolutely no idea who Hajime was.

There were always more tasks to handle on the ship, but no one bothered Hajime as he looked over the edge. He stayed there staring over the water as the sun's reflections moved overhead, and then toward the west.

"Hajime?"

The voice behind him sent a spike of adrenaline rushing. "Is everything okay?"

Mikan nodded, seemingly without any emergency coming along with her. "He's doing better today, I think. But I just… I'm sorry, but I've been with him for twenty-two hours, now. Could you maybe—"

"Oh, God, sorry," Hajime interrupted as he caught up. Now that he bothered to pay attention to anything besides his own misery, he could notice the dark circles under Mikan's eyes and the way her fingertips trembled from exhaustion. He hadn't set foot in the infirmary since the last time she'd taken a sleeping break, and so he hadn't realized how long that'd been.

"No, I'm sorry!" she instantly countered, and held up one of her shaking hands. "I shouldn't need to sleep, but I just nearly dropped a—"

"I've got him," Hajime promised Mikan, and clutched that hand. "Go rest."

She nodded. "I'm only doing a few hours at a time, so I'll be back soon!"

"That's…" Sighing, Hajime let her go. It was probably no use ordering her to look after herself with more than a nap here and there. Well. Time to check on Fuyuhiko.

Peko was waiting outside the infirmary door, and looked as tired as Mikan but far more composed. "You did come," she said with mild surprise.

That hadn't been judgment, but it sure felt like it. "Yeah. Sorry." Hajime ran a hand across his face. "It's just been hard."

"I can only imagine," Peko agreed, with what sounded like real sympathy.

"You look like you could use some sleep, too. I'll be here, if you want to go."

Peko hesitated, but nodded gratefully and stepped away. She turned to look over her shoulder as she left, like she was verifying that Hajime would actually manage to set foot inside the infirmary.

He did so before he could lose his nerve, and was relieved to see Fuyuhiko sleeping. Good. No conversation, no lack of recognition.

First, Hajime reached for a thermometer and aimed it at Fuyuhiko's forehead. Cooler than he should be, so it was no wonder his fists were clenched around a blanket that couldn't keep him warm enough. Hajime reached over and tapped a message window, calling for more hot broth from the galley.

Fuyuhiko was watching him when he turned back.

Hajime jolted, and took a step away before he could help himself.

"So," Fuyuhiko said wryly, and tilted his head toward where his chart hung on the wall. "The guy responsible for all of that." To Mikan's dismay, she'd run out of room when she started listing his injuries. She'd needed to add multiple pages.

Swallowing, Hajime said in a thick, heavy voice, "Yeah. Guess so."

"You never told me why I apparently gave so much of a shit about you. And neither will anyone else." What good humor was in Fuyuhiko's expression flattened into nothing. "You'd think I could get a simple question answered, after everything."

"We…" Hajime looked away. "I'm your best friend." That was the simplest answer.

"Bullshit. I don't have friends."

"Yeah. That's what you told me." It was easier to talk if he didn't meet Fuyuhiko's gaze, and so Hajime kept his attention on the wild landscape beyond the portholes. "But after everything, we were friends. And you realized Peko was actually your friend, too, outside of the clan. And there are other friends here, too. We all care about you."

"'After everything?' After what 'everything?'" Annoyed, Fuyuhiko snapped, "Mind looking at me when I'm talking to you?"

Miserable, Hajime turned back toward Fuyuhiko and the nearly countless injuries he'd taken for Hajime's sake. "After getting away from the… the bad things that you remember. We're all together after that, and we're your friends."

"And you're my 'best friend.'"

"Yeah."

"Who I did this for." Fuyuhiko lifted a forearm, showing off what remained of intricate tattoos. They were marred by a twisted burn scar and jagged, mismatched lines where some deep cuts hadn't healed together in proper alignment.

Hajime closed his eyes and inhaled a shaky breath. "I tried to stop you. You wouldn't listen to me."

"Must've been a reason for it, beyond you being my 'best friend.'" The words came out twisted, mocking. "Why'd I do it?"

"You shouldn't have," Hajime said morosely. "I'm not worth what you went through."

"Not worth it? What, I acted like an idiot when I signed up for this? You're saying that I fucked up?"

Hajime clenched his jaw and didn't respond. He didn't know what to say and every word was just making things worse. The two of them had talked so easily to each other that he didn't know how to handle this reset.

"So," Fuyuhiko said, still with the mocking tone he'd used on Hajime. He looked expectantly toward the new arrival waiting with his latest broth delivery. "Are you one of my best friends, too?"

Hajime turned to the door and winced. Of all people to have gotten that message he'd sent.

Mahiru paused, then said in measured tones, "I wouldn't use that term, no." She stepped into the infirmary and presented Fuyuhiko with his latest meal.

He didn't take the offered mug. "Huh. You're the first person who's had any sort of problem with me," Fuyuhiko noted with genuine curiosity. "Everyone's just been shoveling bullshit to keep me happy. So, what's your deal? What'd you do?"

"What did I do?" Mahiru repeated, uncertain.

"When we were all… y'know."

"Ah. Right." Mahiru set the mug down next to him when he refused to take it. "Propaganda, basically."

"Makes sense. You're…" Fuyuhiko squinted at her, then looked abruptly pleased as his scrambled mind put something into order. "Photography, right? Koizumi?"

She brightened. "Oh! You do remember things. It sounded like you'd forgotten everything, but I guess not. That's great!"

Hajime looked miserably at the floor and said nothing.

"Great?" Fuyuhiko echoed. "I thought you didn't give a shit."

Mahiru perched on the edge of a nearby counter. "We… didn't get along for a long time, but by now, we do. We'll never be each other's first choice to spend time with, but we're honestly fine."

"Fair enough." Fuyuhiko considered her, then asked with a wicked grin, "What happened? You sound like you're dancing around land mines."

Uneasy, Mahiru darted her gaze toward Hajime. "Does he know?" she asked in a strained whisper.

"No, I don't think so," Hajime whispered back. "Probably needed to forget about the whole process."

"What are you two whispering about?" Fuyuhiko demanded.

Mahiru inhaled. "Okay. You're going to find this out, so let me just tell you. To stop being those awful people, we went through a virtual reality simulation. But it went wrong and people started killing each other."

"Virtual," Fuyuhiko repeated without any gravity, clearly picturing some sort of small-scale experience. "So, what, you killed me?"

Mahiru blinked at him hard, then scowled.

Unconcerned, Fuyuhiko corrected to, "Or I killed you?"

"You were going to," Mahiru admitted. "But Peko stepped in."

"Well. Makes sense." Fuyuhiko grinned more broadly and honestly than a face that injured should be able to. "Guess that explains why we're not each other's favorite people, huh?"

Mahiru couldn't help but laugh a bit. "Well, obviously. Anyway, drink your broth. You're supposed to have it while it's hot."

Still smirking at her, Fuyuhiko reached for the insulated mug and lifted it like he was making a toast, then took a drink. She apparently took that as both thanks and farewell, and left the infirmary with light steps.

Hajime stared after her. Fuyuhiko was getting along better with Mahiru than him? Mahiru?! What the hell was going on?

"I'll get some more sleep," Fuyuhiko announced when he'd finished. "So you can stop looking ready to shit yourself."

Hajime could argue with that assessment, but he wouldn't make a very good job of it. With fresh sighs, he stared out the porthole until Fuyuhiko had fallen asleep, then waited aimlessly for Mikan's return.

Days passed like that.

Fuyuhiko's purple bruises faded to green and yellow. Thinner cuts disappeared into barely-there scars, while deeper gouges healed under Mikan's stitches. The hollows under his eyes and cheekbones didn't look quite as cavernous, and he finally managed to sleep through the night without waking up shivering. But he never recognized Hajime.

Hajime Hinata did have a talent that Hope's Peak had never cared about, and that was caring about people. But he wasn't allowed to use it, now. Izuru Kamukura had every talent on the planet. But none of them were any good, here.

He couldn't take this any more, Hajime told himself as he stared at nothing. Fuyuhiko had graduated to actual food, but with the scope of his lingering injuries, he still stayed in the infirmary. That meant that he yet needed to be brought his meals, and once Mahiru had held a successful conversation with him, everyone else was willing to try.

"You lied to me!" Kazuichi insisted. He was next to Fuyuhiko while Hajime stood just outside the door, but voices carried.

Fuyuhiko shrugged and slid a spoon into the thick, hearty stew he'd been handed. "Probably, yeah."

Kazuichi gasped, betrayed.

"You're easy to fool and you panic in a crisis," Fuyuhiko continued. "I remember that much. And you want to believe in people."

Though Kazuichi's offense deepened with the first two additions, the last one softened his outrage. "Well, yeah. I didn't know how you were going to get out of it, but when you said you had a plan to save everyone, I believed you. One hundred percent."

Fuyuhiko smirked. "As expected."

"Jerk," Kazuichi snorted, but the easy back-and-forth had him happier than he'd been ever since they saw the invading forces on the radar. "Hey, so, what else do you remember about me?"

Fuyuhiko made Kazuichi wait until he'd chewed and swallowed a mouthful. "That's a pretty damn big ask. Narrow the scope a little."

"Okay." Kazuichi screwed up his face in thought. "What's the first thing you remember about me after we woke up?"

"Woke up?" Fuyuhiko echoed.

"On the island."

He shrugged. "I got rid of all of that. People have told me there was a program, but I must've thought it was too risky to know about."

"Oh." Dismayed, Kazuichi considered, then tried again. "Uh, okay… what about when I showed up to class in a suit?"

Staring at him for a long, considering moment, Fuyuhiko abruptly laughed. "Fuck, you looked ridiculous. To 'impress Miss Sonia,' right?"

Kazuichi grinned, delighted. "I saw you go off to handle some family business, and you looked a lot cooler than in your uniform. I thought maybe it'd work for me, too."

"It didn't," Fuyuhiko said, then rolled his gaze thoughtfully upward. "Heh. Guess there's more in there than I thought. Even if it's nothing that really matters."

"No, this matters. It matters like you wouldn't believe!" Cheerfully, Kazuichi clapped him on the shoulder. "I'll let you eat, all right?"

"Finally," Fuyuhiko agreed, but with no real rancor.

Still in bright spirits, Kazuichi moved for the door, only to process that Hajime had been listening in with an increasingly gutted expression. "Uh. Sorry, man," he whispered, and hurried down the corridor.

Well. The good news was that Fuyuhiko was feeling better. His pain tolerance was beyond description, but that didn't mean he enjoyed it. Now that he was on the mend, and his pain steadily ebbed and his body again functioned like it should, his overall mood had followed suit. That'd opened him up to bits of nostalgic connection with the people brave enough to try it.

The bad news, Hajime thought as stepped away to let Fuyuhiko eat in privacy, was exactly the same as ever. To Fuyuhiko, Hajime was still as much of a blank void as what he'd been turned into during the Kamukura Project.

Had Mahiru really been the one to set this off? She'd practically skipped into the mess hall and announced that Fuyuhiko had remembered specifics about her, and that sent a jolt of optimism across the entire group. Which made sense. It was logical. But it still just seemed so odd that she—of all people—had been the first ray of real hope for Fuyuhiko.

Of course, Fuyuhiko had clearly appreciated that Mahiru had been the first 'stranger' to be honest with him about any darker topics. Maybe there was a lesson in that. Hajime waited, and considered, and eventually decided. He steeled his nerves and walked into the infirmary. Without preamble, he asked, "So. You really want to know why you did this for me?"

Fuyuhiko blinked. "Obviously," he said and set aside his empty bowl. Finally, he looked interested in something that Hajime had to say.

How to approach this? "When we were at Hope's Peak," Hajime slowly began, and took a chair near Fuyuhiko, "I got experimented on."

"Experimented?" Fuyuhiko repeated. His brow furrowed. "How?"

"They wanted me to be able to do more things," Hajime summarized, neither wanting to get bogged down in the details nor to relive his own horrors by doing so. "It involved a lot of surgery and some… other stuff."

Fuyuhiko's gaze grew increasingly curious as he studied the scars running across Hajime's forehead. "'Do more things?' What can you do, then?"

"Anything." Fuyuhiko's curiosity and good mood vanished at the seemingly flippant reply, and Hajime insisted, "Seriously, anything. That was the point of the project. Medicine, combat, languages… anything. And they did some physical development work to support all of those talents, too."

Fuyuhiko waited with obvious incredulity, but did look impressed when Hajime reached for a small dentist's mirror and bent its metal handle as easily as if it'd been a plastic straw. "Well, shit. Looks handy."

"Yeah. In theory, I could even try to fix your memories." Fuyuhiko also looked interested in that, but Hajime shook his head. He'd seen an answer to that question very quickly, but it had come with the simultaneous, gutting realization that there was no possible way to get access to what he'd need. And so, it hadn't really been an answer at all. "I can't actually do that," he clarified. "Ten different navies would be on us before we docked the ship."

Disappointed, but not surprised, Fuyuhiko shrugged. I knew what I was in for, the gesture seemed to say.

Hajime hesitated before continuing, trying to straighten out the mirror's handle as he did. His voice was quiet when he did speak. "There were side effects, too. Some… some really bad ones. But the school didn't care what happened. I was just their lab rat."

Silence answered him, hanging painfully heavy. A good ten seconds ticked by on the infirmary's clock. After that pause, Fuyuhiko concluded, "And they probably want their lab rat back."

Hajime looked at the floor and nodded.

"So… this isn't a one-time thing, then," Fuyuhiko slowly continued. "They'll always want to get ahold of you."

Hajime hesitated, then nodded. "Yeah."

"Then I'm going to have to do this again."

The words stabbed terror through his heart. "Never," Hajime instantly spat. After a deep breath, he strove for humor, but only sounded agonized as he forced words through his tight throat. "I mean, you don't care about me, right? No need to do anything for me again."

Fuyuhiko's gaze darkened. "If I think something's worth doing, I stick to it. Even if I don't remember why now, I must have had my reasons then."

Fuck it all, why was he so kneejerk stubborn? "They are never, ever getting their hands on you again. I won't let it happen."

"You won't let? I don't take orders from you." Dark memory filled Fuyuhiko's gaze, and he muttered, "I remember being in charge. I was giving the orders. If this is what I decided I need to do…"

The thought of Fuyuhiko getting captured again filled Hajime with panic; the thought of him willingly walking back into hell had him practically delirious with it. "Well, you're not getting past every single person on this ship. We're not letting you throw yourself away again!" By the end, Hajime stood and was nearly shouting.

Instantly obstinate, Fuyuhiko leaned forward, uncaring of the fragile figure he still struck in the hospital bed. "I'd like to see them try and stop me."

A disbelieving laugh broke free. "Oh yeah? Look at you!" Hajime cried before he could help it, and gestured to the mess two months of torture had made of Fuyuhiko. "Say you could actually get past us. You think you could really head back for more?" Even as he said the words, he knew they were a critically wrong move.

Fury sparked behind Fuyuhiko's eye. "What, you think I can't take it?"

"Will you just—"

"Fuck off! From what I've heard from everyone, I'm who saved their asses last time, not you! Me, not some superpowered lab rat!"

Electricity seemed to run down his spine, and words poured out of Hajime before he could stop them. "You know what, Fuyuhiko? No. No, you can't take another round of this. You barely survived this one."

"Don't tell me what I can't do."

"Lose even another couple of kilos again, and you will fall back into poikilothermia and die in a torture chamber. It's not a question." Hajime leaned forward and propped his weight on the side of Fuyuhiko's bed. "You are not taking the bullet for me again. Because—listen carefully—you. Can't. Do. This."

As expected, nothing filled Fuyuhiko with fury like the implication of weakness. This was far from weakness, but was the simple limit of how much any human could take. Even so, it landed as terribly as he knew it would, but Hajime just hadn't been able to stop the words from pouring out. Spending this long mired in misery and guilt had worn away his defenses; hearing that Fuyuhiko was already planning for more torture and certain death lit a fuse.

"Get out," Fuyuhiko spat, looking ready to lunge out of his hospital bed with his hands aimed for Hajime's throat. "And don't let me see your face again."

"Heard that one before," Hajime said tiredly, and walked for the door. Once there, he turned. "You're not going to throw your life away for someone you clearly don't give one single shit about."

"This has nothing to do with you. This is about me and what I decided to do. Now: get out."

Hajime managed to round two corners before the first ragged sob ripped free. He leaned against a wall and wiped away hot, angry tears with a rough swipe of his wrist. Shit. Goddammit.

Trying to be honest with Fuyuhiko had been one bad fucking move.

Soon, he found himself doing engine repairs three months ahead of schedule, just so he'd have something to focus on. His hands stayed busy, his mind stayed quiet, and his heart hid in a corner and didn't dare to speak up. It worked for hours of distraction, but eventually, the dinner chime sounded. He didn't want people to come looking for him, and so Hajime tiredly headed to the mess hall. He'd sit by himself.

Everyone was there, save Fuyuhiko. Nearly all of the people who made up Hajime's world were right here in this one room. It was a dozen different shades of 'loud,' from laughter to arguments to excitement. Looking at them, no one would think the group had been chased from their home mere months earlier.

They probably want their lab rat back.

But they had been chased off Jabberwock, and they'd barely made it out alive. Because Hajime hadn't kept any of these people safe, despite being the military's biggest target.

They probably want their lab rat back.

He'd let that happen to Fuyuhiko.

They probably want their lab rat back.

The soldiers were going to keep coming.

Through dull eyes, Hajime looked around the room and imagined bullets ripping through skulls. The men targeting them planned to kill everyone besides himself, Sonia, and Fuyuhiko, right? And the other two would face torture until their knowledge was wrung dry. (…More torture.)

And what did they have to face those entire military fleets when they did inevitably come? Not a full island chain with its own defensive capabilities, like they'd used last time. No: now they had a ship, singular, and one helicopter. They'd failed before, and now their situation was even worse.

Hajime was pretty sure that he could single-handedly take over another vessel, if it came to that. But he'd need the opportunity to do so. If a battleship or submarine sent a torpedo at them from a kilometer away, he'd never get that chance.

If soldiers came for him again, all of these people would die or end up in torture chambers. Hajime wouldn't be able to stop it. And so, once again, he didn't know what to do.

At the end of his fatalistic survey across the room, Hajime's attention lingered on someone. Memories whispered, almost too softly to hear at first, until he really listened to what they said. His expression shifted slowly, from misery to uncertainty to realization.

Oh. Oh. Of course. He should have seen this sooner.

Nagito only looked up after the lightbulb had gone off. He blinked in confusion over Hajime blatantly staring at him, and gestured to himself like he expected a question to be asked. Hajime shook his head once. No need to ask a question; Nagito had already given him an answer.

Yes. Right.

That had been the answer, all along.

He just hadn't wanted to admit what was being asked of him.

At the end of his brief dinner, Hajime stood and walked over to another table. "I'm taking the chopper," he whispered to the Imposter. "I'll be back later."

That earned a confused blink. "What's happening? Do you need a co-pilot?"

"No. It'll be quick, I'll be back by morning. I just didn't want you to wonder where it was."

"All right." The answer was uncertain, but Hajime didn't bother offering reassurance or clarification as he walked off. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Nagito hurry over to talk to the Imposter. "The helicopter?" Nagito repeated with surprise, and Hajime sped his pace. He didn't want to deal with any sort of explanation.

Soon, the helicopter lifted smoothly off its landing pad under his controls. He tilted it toward the southeast, and as he circled around, noticed that he was being observed by a white head of hair dyed the colors of sunset. Hajime returned his attention to the sky and flew onward.

Two hours later, he descended toward a pitch-black expanse carved out of another forest. There were many such abandoned military bases around the world, and with a global power shortage, they weren't bothering to keep the lights on. Many of the supplies here had been carried off, but not all; they'd gotten the helicopter he was flying from this same base, along with enough replacement parts to last them a decade.

Using only moonlight and starlight, Hajime located a runway and used it as a landing pad. As he hopped out of the craft and to the ground, he hoped that the Canadian forces hadn't carried off what he needed as they pulled back to defend Vancouver.

Cracks ran across the tarmac, and weeds pushed through. Once, this had been a world-class facility for world-class soldiers, but so much had been abandoned when half the world fell. Those soldiers were now after him, Hajime reminded himself. They were after his friends. And they had hurt one friend in ways that he couldn't even describe.

Steeling his resolve, Hajime hurried through the crisp, chill darkness in search of a way to stop all of those soldiers from ever getting a second chance. His light, precise footsteps echoed across the sprawling pavement and between the concrete buildings. Only the soft cries of nearby owls interrupted him. This once-bustling base was silent, now, and the natural world was beginning to reclaim what humanity had abandoned.

Aha, Hajime saw as he trailed heavy cables across the ground and found the control box that collected them. It was attached to a concrete block of a building, unlabeled and unremarkable. Here it was. Not bothering with niceties, he kicked at the door like he was trying to drive in someone's chest, and proceeded inside when it wrenched off its hinges.

Relief soon swept him. Yes. They'd left behind exactly what he needed.

With the assistance of a few spare duffel bags, Hajime began scooping up every piece of abandoned telecommunications equipment left in this control room. Their group had been using that slow, secretive frequency, but it was time to take a different approach. Trying to duck down and hide in the shadows, as they'd been doing, could only protect them for so long. Hajime refused to be the prey again, left to be tracked and discovered.

As he exited the building, a gust of wind whipped past and caught a tattered flag left on its pole. Red and white. For a moment, Hajime was back walking through the ruins of military bases with a red sun flying over them, rather than a maple leaf. Those were the soldiers most desperate to find him. Although they had allies around the world who also sought the Remnants, it was Japanese forces who'd led the assault on Jabberwock and captured Fuyuhiko.

They'd regret that.

Confident that he'd found all that he needed, Hajime loaded the duffel bags into the helicopter, refueled, and set back off for their hiding place near the Alaskan Panhandle. There were still hours of darkness left when he landed. He should sleep, first, to make sure he had a clear head. He was trying to change the world, after all.

Well into morning, his efforts were going well. Hajime had taken over the control cabin of the ship, as he needed access to some of its systems. His in-progress work with the military electronics he'd raided already covered half the room.

"Hajime?" Nagito asked as he stepped into the control room.

He didn't look up from his work. "Yeah?"

"What are you doing?"

Still studying the electronics in front of him, Hajime smiled. It might be a dark, unbalanced expression. Nagito's behavior inside the simulation had served as his inspiration, after all. "You'd probably say something about 'creating hope.'"

Silence. Then, "Whose hope?"

That earned another smile. "Good question." Nagito didn't say anything else, but neither did he leave. Eventually, Hajime continued, "Nagito. I want to ask you something. About the Funhouse. When you learned the truth about us, what ran through your head?"

Those soldiers on Jabberwock had come hunting for Hajime, and they didn't care who they'd hurt in the process. No, that wasn't right: they'd come hunting for Hajime, and they would gleefully slaughter most of his friends if they got the chance. Those who they didn't slaughter, they'd torture.

And not just torture, Hajime knew as he thought about what was left of Fuyuhiko, but destroy. Utterly. The so-called good guys would rip out everything that made up the people he cared about. Those men who'd come for Hajime and the men who'd done this to Fuyuhiko could make zero claim at being on the side of good, despite all claims to the contrary.

Nagito's concern deepened at the seeming non sequitur, but he still didn't try to pull Hajime away from whatever he was working on. After that long pause, he answered, "I had to stop everyone. Before you hurt anyone else."

"Right. Exactly." Hajime reached for a wire and stripped its coating. "You asked whose hope I'm creating, so: our hope. I apparently have to pick, and so I pick our hope." He'd might have been created as the world's hope, but his world had been reduced to the people on this ship.

There was another long pause from the man at the door. Hajime wondered if Nagito would demand to know exactly what he was planning, or would spout off more speeches about how the entire world's hope rested in his hands. But no. After that aching pause, Nagito simply murmured, "I understand" and turned, closing the door behind him.

Hajime nodded and leaned back in to his work.

It took him eight days, and he barely left the room until he was done. Fuyuhiko was probably relieved about that.

At the end of those eight days, when Hajime was sure that his plan would work, he walked to the infirmary and was surprised to find it empty. A quick check of the roster told him that Fuyuhiko had moved to a normal room, right next to Peko's, and Hajime headed there with purpose. Even if Fuyuhiko connected with every other person on this ship better than with Hajime, it was doubtful he'd willingly spend much time socializing.

As expected, the door opened, and the face behind it wasn't happy. "Well," Fuyuhiko said shortly, and studied him. He looked much healthier than before; once he'd made it through the worst stretch, he'd apparently improved rapidly. A thick sweater appeared to be enough to keep him warm. "You listened to me for a week, at least."

Right. Fuyuhiko didn't want to see his face again. "I just wanted to let you know that I'm doing something for you on deck as soon as it gets dark," Hajime levelly said. "You don't have to come. But if you look through the porthole and wonder what you're seeing, you'll know what's up."

Fuyuhiko blinked. "Huh? The hell's that supposed to mean?"

"Don't worry about it."

"If you're doing something for me," Fuyuhiko snapped, "without my permission, then I'm gonna fuckin' worry!"

"So, we're talking about asking the other person's permission, now?" Hajime said, and didn't try to soften how pointed the words were. "Anyway. You can come if you want, or not." He turned and left without further explanation, leaving Fuyuhiko blinking behind him.

Even if Fuyuhiko hated him, and even if he never wanted to see Hajime again, Hajime was his best friend. He was going to take care of Fuyuhiko and stop what had happened from ever, ever repeating.

Whether Fuyuhiko wanted him to or not.

And he was going to protect everyone else, too, Hajime calmly told himself as they joined him on the deck. Those soldiers never should have been able to sneak up on them, and the local radar never should had been the first warning sign they had. If he'd protected his friends to begin with, none of this would have happened.

Confusion ran wild. All everyone knew was that Hajime was working on something supposedly important, with components taken from a military base, but there were no weapons to be seen. He didn't look aggressive, either; if anything, he looked eerily calm as he stared up at the sky.

"Mind clueing us in?" Akane demanded, hugging herself tightly. She treated the cold as an opponent, and she always hated to admit defeat. At least she'd relented into putting on a pair of sweatpants, but she still refused to wear a coat.

Hajime smiled slightly at the sight, and of everything he knew of her. He'd protect her, too, like he'd failed to do on Jabberwock.

"Seriously," Hiyoko complained. She too had resisted dressing for the increasingly cold weather, but she'd finally given in at the first dusting of snow. As Mahiru leaned over to pull her in to a warmth-sharing hug, Hiyoko wondered, "What have you even been doing, anyway? Did your big fight with Fuyuhiko make you turn tail and hide for that long?"

It probably wasn't a surprise that secrets spread quickly within tight quarters. "Simple," Hajime said, and looked back up at the night sky. "I'm doing what I should have done before all of this happened in the first place: protecting everyone."

"How?" Kazuichi asked, audibly nervous. "Didn't you go to, uh…"

"A military base?" Nagito concluded. He wasn't outright nervous like Kazuichi, of course, but even he sounded at least apprehensive about Hajime's uncharacteristic behavior and whatever he'd left him to do in that room. Nagito sounding even mildly concerned about something managed to unnerve Ryota and Teruteru, too.

"Yes."

Hajime's blunt answer did nothing to soothe their nerves, and the group looked between themselves.

Sonia gathered her courage and stepped forward. "Hajime, when the five of us chose to shut down the program, we did so for the safety of the world. You musn't—" Her voice faltered when his attention turned toward her.

Hajime could only imagine what his expression looked like, right now. Those soldiers had come in search of Izuru Kamukura. After what they'd done to the people he cared about, they'd found him.

She collected her courage and tried again. "You mustn't hurt anyone, Hajime."

"I'm not going to hurt anyone," he said like it was self-evident. That lack of trust should have hurt, but he distantly realized that his voice had indeed gone flat, all its emotional affectation falling away. It had been a very, very long stretch of months. Feelings had failed him over and over again as they went on, and now, he just needed to fix these problems before they could happen again.

"Then what the hell are you doing?"

The voice sliced through Hajime's disaffected thoughts, and he blinked with surprise. Fuyuhiko stood near the stairs, ready to return below deck in an instant, but he was there.

"Sorry, Fuyuhiko," Hajime said as all of those squelched emotions rushed back into him like surging floodwaters, and he flexed his hand around the small controller it held. "I know you said you didn't want me making this decision for you. Well. I'm gonna."

"Huh?" Fuyuhiko asked, too confused to be angry.

Turning back to the sky, Hajime inhaled.

He was about to end the world.

Again.

Before he could talk himself out of this, his thumb clicked the button to confirm the algorithm he'd spent a week building. Humanity's greatest genius had used a modified satellite phone taken from the Canadian base to hack into every government and military system left in this broken world, and slithered into their cracks and shadows. After that, he'd started calculating angles and vectors and control mechanisms. And now, he'd just put all of those controls into effect.

There was a full minute of wary silence as they waited for anything to happen, finally broken by Nagito wondering, "Hajime… what did you do?"

"I'm not hurting anyone," he calmly repeated. "I'm just going to stop them before they hurt anyone else."

Nagito still looked unsettled, especially at the echo of his own words, but said nothing more.

As Hajime looked up at the sky and waited, his breath suddenly caught as he realized Fuyuhiko had walked up next to him. Though his tight expression demanded answers, Hajime could only say, "I owe you this."

"Owe me what, exact… ly…" Fuyuhiko's question trailed off into nothing as a spectacular streak of light burned across the sky.

A few people gasped. Realizing what they must be thinking, Hajime said, "It's not a missile. Don't worry. But keep watching."

Another streak of light blazed overhead, then a third. And then, suddenly, it became a waterfall of shining, gleaming color tearing apart the night sky. A meteor shower like the Perseids might see a hundred so-called falling stars in an hour. This was thousands of points of light, in minutes.

It was beautiful. Even though he'd known what was about to happen, Hajime couldn't help but stare up in awe at the choir of light singing an intricate melody overhead. Runs, chords, arpeggios; the glimmering lines wrote out a song that had never been seen in the history of the world, and would never be seen again.

"What did you do?" Fuyuhiko asked in an amazed whisper as he stared up at the glorious show above.

"I owe you this," Hajime repeated, also in a whisper, then stayed silent until calm, dark night finally returned.

A few final streaks of light followed their brethren down to earth. Only when they were sure that no more would follow did everyone turn to Hajime. Every last face demanded answers.

For it, he held up his hand to show off the small controller held in his palm.

"They had… that at the military base?" Kazuichi asked weakly.

"No." Hajime smiled as genuine relief swept him, like he hadn't felt for a very long time. "It just set off my algorithm."

"Which did what?" Peko prompted.

"Directed ninety-three percent of all functioning satellites out of orbit. And I now control the other seven percent."

That took a moment to sink in, then earned a collective gasp. "Those were satellites?" Mahiru demanded. "Like, television and internet and phone satellites?"

Hajime looked back up at a now-empty sky. "Like spy satellites. Like military targeting and attack satellites. They're never going to find any of you again. And with the ones I kept, I'll know if they even make an attempt. It'll be impossible to take us by surprise, ever again."

Overwhelmed, Sonia clutched her forehead. "Every telecommunications network around the world just collapsed." Gundham stared at Hajime like he'd wielded some dark magical powers to put on that spectacular display.

"Not every one," Hajime calmly countered. "Land-based towers will still work fine, and there are plenty of those. And I spent the last four days making sure that no satellites would angle toward populated areas, just in case they didn't burn up. No one was hurt. Which is a lot more than those soldiers can say.

"I didn't hurt anyone," he repeated in the silence. "But… I realized that I had to decide who I'm protecting, actively. And I picked you."

Aware of the stunned figure still standing at his side, Hajime quietly repeated, "I picked you. You won't have to do it again. And I'll stop talking to you, now."

Fuyuhiko's eye opened as wide as Hajime had ever seen it, and he looked up to stare again at the heavens that had been ripped down to keep him safe.

"All right. That's it." Hajime smiled. "Show's over. If we want, we could set sail tomorrow. They're never going to find us again."

He didn't know whether to expect it or not, but a knock came on his cabin door an hour later. When Hajime opened it, Fuyuhiko met his gaze for only a couple of seconds before studying the floor between them. "What in the hell was… I didn't ask for that."

"I know. But I owed you that much, Fuyuhiko. If I had done what I was capable of early enough, then you wouldn't have been forced into doing what you were capable of. I screwed up, so now I fixed it."

"When they figure out what happened, you're just going to be even more of a target," Fuyuhiko muttered. "Biggest bad guy on the planet."

He shrugged, smiling lopsidedly. "Already am, right?"

Fuyuhiko snorted slightly, but admitted, "Who… made his project take twice as long, so that he wouldn't hurt people. I would've just figured that everything would burn up."

"None of us want to hurt people," Hajime agreed, and instinctively raised his hand toward the fresh, deeper scar that had been carved across Fuyuhiko's bad eye. He caught himself halfway there and lowered his hand. "But the 'good guys' apparently can't say the same. So I picked us. And I don't regret it. They won't be able to see or hear us well enough to find us, any more, and so you'll never have to do that again."

For once, the silence between them seemed comfortable, like it had been before, when they could sit in each other's presence and not feel the immediate need to fill the quiet. In that quiet, Hajime was finally able to think of the right thing to say. "Don't think of this as coming from a friend. We apparently can't be that, any more. But I owed you a debt, and I needed to repay it."

Fuyuhiko studied him, clearly aware that Hajime had deliberately chosen language from Fuyuhiko's world, and seemed to consider him anew. Maybe, just maybe, they did understand each other, despite all this time seeming to say otherwise. "Hey. Lab rat."

"Don't call me that," Hajime instantly countered.

Not bothering to apologize, Fuyuhiko continued, "So, you just took out every way for militaries to track us, right? Plan offensive maneuvers? Organize their fleets?" After getting a nod at each question, he slowly finished, "Then… didn't you say you'd thought of something that might fix my memories, if only you could get past the military?"

Everything went still, and Hajime's eyes opened wide as he realized what he'd accidentally done as part of his plan.

"I just…" Troubled, Fuyuhiko tried a few times to finish his thoughts. "What you did up there tonight, I…" He shifted his weight. "I guess you finally made me curious about caring that damn much."

Hajime gripped his hand before he could help it. "Okay. Before we sail back there, I need to know if they would have gone back to look inside a specific building. I don't think you do, but do you know anything about something called the Neo World Program? Anything at all?"

Fuyuhiko blinked back at him with a total lack of recognition. "That's a dumbass name."

With a crow of delighted laughter over the confirmation that Fuyuhiko had never told them a thing, Hajime unthinkingly drew him into a hug.

"Get off me!" Fuyuhiko spat, his good mood gone.

"Sorry," Hajime chuckled, and stepped away. "Sorry. Force of habit."

"If you try to act like a friend who hugs me," Fuyuhiko muttered, "I'm gonna change my mind about this."

Hajime held up his hands. "Right. No hugs. Sorry."

"Okay. Glad we've gotten that straightened out." Fuyuhiko cleared his throat. "We're not friends. You've just got me curious. That's it."

"Absolutely," Hajime agreed. "That's it."

"Well. Okay. Right." Fuyuhiko hesitated a moment longer, then turned and walked off without a good-bye.

Hajime watched him leave, then turned and flat-out ran the other direction, toward the stairs. It was time to weigh anchor, and he'd figure out the safest path back toward Jabberwock once they were in motion. That would be easy enough; they still had access to all remaining navigational and spy satellites, after all, while every single one of their enemies had just been thrown back into navigating by compass and map.

Eighteen days later, they were back.

Everyone looked wistfully at the familiar beaches and palm trees. Even if they'd blinded the world's militaries, it was too dangerous to stay permanently in this known location. They could make return trips to strip the islands of what supplies they had to offer, but this wasn't home, any more.

"Come on," Hajime said, and gestured to the dock. "In there."

Fuyuhiko looked warily toward the central administration building; familiar to Hajime, but an unknown location to him. "What are we doing, exactly? You said this is where that virtual game thing happened, but I'm not doing that again, am I?"

He shook his head as they set into motion. "No. In a worst-case scenario, I can look for the same memory files that were generated when the simulation ran before. That wouldn't be… ideal, since it'd have some holes and nothing past when we woke up, but it'd be better than now." And Fuyuhiko would be balanced on the edge of Ultimate Despair, again, but they could all pull him off the ledge in the right direction.

"Okay," Fuyuhiko said, clearly troubled, but making the active decision to trust Hajime. "What's the best-case scenario, then? How would you get the memories back, otherwise?"

"I don't think they're actually gone," Hajime theorized.

That earned a dark look. "I'm pretty damn sure I knew what I was doing, there."

"You absolutely cannot reach those memories," Hajime quickly agreed. "Which kept those guys from being able to, either. But, it's like… imagine two buildings with a road between them. When you told me about what you did, I realized that I don't think you blew up the buildings. They're still there. I think you just blew up the road, so there's no way to access them."

"Okay," Fuyuhiko said uncertainly. "What's the difference, then, in fixing them?"

"Cognitive psychology studies retrieval methods for information that has been stored in long-term memory." The formal explanation quickly earned annoyance, and Hajime changed to, "You changed your associations with them, so you can't pull your memories out. You blew up the road, in other words. But there are pods—" Please, let the pods still be there. "That are specifically designed to deal with memories. I'm positive I can tweak them to zero in on fixing your retrieval processes. I won't need to actually rebuild any memories. I'll just need to fix the roads."

"Makes sense," Fuyuhiko said, but sounded even more uncertain as the details poured in. "So, I'm going to get into a weird memory pod that was used to lock me into a killing game, and you're gonna fuck with my brain. Like the pod already did, once."

"That's." Hajime paused, then held back a grimace. "Yeah. I wouldn't use those words, but… that's technically accurate, yeah."

Fuyuhiko looked to the side, and Hajime realized someone had followed them to the building. "What do you think?"

"It's as I've been telling you, all this time." Peko nodded. "You can trust Hajime."

Fuyuhiko stared at the building looming overhead, then sighed. "Fuck it." He pushed his way inside, not waiting for them to follow.

When Hajime moved to do so, a hand caught his wrist. "Thank you," Peko whispered, with a rare smile.

He smiled, too. "You got him out."

"And you'll get him back." She stepped back, releasing his wrist. "I won't keep you. But truly: thank you."

Nodding, Hajime reached over and squeezed her wrist before he followed Fuyuhiko inside. He found Fuyuhiko in the lobby, looking critically at the looming statue representing the five islands; he hadn't known which hallway to use after entering. Hajime led him down a path that they'd walked countless times while working on their sleeping friends, and kept glancing at him to see if any recognition flickered.

None did, but that might also have been because of how focused he was on assessing the space around them. "No signs of forced entry anywhere," Fuyuhiko mused. "And there's dust."

"It doesn't look like anyone's been down here," Hajime agreed, but his pulse sped as they approached the final corridor. He took and held a deep breath as he pushed open the door in question.

The pods were still there.

His lungs emptied, and Hajime's heart lurched back into regular motion. "Okay," he said, and tried to not let on how worried he'd been that they might come all this way only to find that the military had carried off the island's heart. "Pick a pod."

Fuyuhiko eyed him oddly—Hajime's nerves had clearly come through—but he shrugged and walked over to the pod nearest to the main control panel. "So, I just…?"

"You just get in," Hajime confirmed, and tapped the pod's panel to open it.

Needing another few contemplative moments, Fuyuhiko let out a whooshing breath, nodded, and climbed into the empty pod. "Don't fuck up, lab rat."

"Don't call me that," Hajime reminded him, hopefully for the last time, and tapped the controls to close the pod. Inside, Fuyuhiko watched him through its fogged glass, then abruptly dropped into unconsciousness as its effects took hold.

Okay. Time to be someone's Ultimate Hope, again.

Hajime's fingers flew across the controls as he worked on repurposing the intricate code of the Neo World Program. Software code and neurological structures both reshaped under his expert hands, but it wasn't a quick process. He'd reprogrammed the world's satellites, but reprogramming Fuyuhiko's brain felt infinitely more consequential.

Eventually, he had to activate the program and turn it over to the machine. It was out of his hands, now, and he could only wait, watch, and hope. Eighty-seven anxious minutes later, a light turned from green to white. The program had ended.

Fear and anticipation filled him in equal measure. He was almost sure this would work, but if it didn't, Hajime didn't have another plan. It would work, right? It would work. It would work. It had to work, he told himself as he reached for the pod's controls and tapped OPEN. It had to work.

The pod door slowly opened, and Fuyuhiko's eyelid followed.

Hajime leaned over him, realizing his own hands were shaking. "H-hey." He swallowed, feeling suddenly weighed down by the gravity of this moment. Either he was about to get Fuyuhiko back, or it would prove impossible. "How'd it go?"

Fuyuhiko blinked at him once. Twice.

Hajime looked down, and again swallowed hard.

Abruptly, Fuyuhiko lunged halfway out of the pod and grabbed Hajime by his shirt collar. "You asshole! I told you not to bother!"

"You told me?" Hajime repeated with a tremulous, hopeful voice.

"All of those fucking satellites? They're gonna know it was you!"

He swallowed. "And who am I?"

Fuyuhiko's lower lip quivered. "Hajime Hinata. The world's biggest idiot."

Delirious joy overtook Hajime, and he leaned in for a hug that lifted Fuyuhiko the rest of the way out of his pod. One arm wrapped around the other man's back, holding him close, while his other hand rested along the curve of Fuyuhiko's head. "You're the idiot," Hajime laughed, and rested his face against Fuyuhiko's.

"Fuck you," Fuyuhiko snorted, and wrapped his arms around Hajime in return, allowing himself to be held like he seldom did. "My plan worked great."

"Well, so did mine." Hajime's grip tightened, though he remembered in time that Fuyuhiko still had deep injuries lurking inside. "I picked you. Just like you picked me."

Fuyuhiko tried to say something, but failed.

"Thank you," Hajime whispered. Now that sun had returned to his world, he could admit to what fate Fuyuhiko had saved him from. "God, thank you. Never do that again. Never."

"That's the plan," Fuyuhiko whispered, and laughed once. It faded into a soft, twisted noise. "I thought I'd never see you again."

"And you do. You see me. Right?"

"Yeah." Fuyuhiko nodded against him. "I do."

Ultimate Hope felt like a worthwhile title, suddenly. "Come on," Hajime eventually said. He didn't let go of Fuyuhiko, though, and Fuyuhiko didn't step away. "Let's figure out what home's going to be, now."

[ultraericthered]

Whitewash Fit For A King

Somewhat related to the post I just made.

It's quite ironic given King Magnifico's cult leader-like status in the film that there exists a small but still sizeable (for this site at least) amount of Wish viewers who make up a cult following of Magnifico stans. And when I say this, I mean they're all that kind of villain stan.

Oh no no no no no...

Yeah, it partially gives me more cause to resent the filmmakers of Wish including both scenes with the burnt tapestry of Magnifico's sad childhood trauma-related past that spurred him towards creating his kingdom in the final cut ("If only I'd known magic back then...", "so THAT doesn't happen again!"), but at the same time, I feel like even without those moments, these people would've found some way of woobifying and saintifying the character and act as apologists for his villainy. After all, this has happened with virtually every fictional villain in existence in the history of ever. These kinds of stupid, immature simps who don't want to look in the eye the reality that their faves are problematic to the point of being literal evil villains have always existed, and a character like Magnifico is hardly the most perplexing case of this. I recall long ago reading the opinion pieces of someone who was an apologist for Scar from The Lion King, trying to paint him as a lifelong victim and Mufasa as the real villain (can't wait for the upcoming Mufasa movie to re-ignite THOSE takes!). On Xitter I once came upon someone who actually simped for and woobified fucking Ghetsis from Pokemon, projecting all sorts of mental illness and disabilities onto him while insisting that the character had some redeemability that has never once been shown to exist in canon. Even on here, there are people who stan Phillip Wittebane/Emperor Belos from The Owl House, to the point where they maliciously trivialize the religious trauma that Dana Terrace had to grow up with so that they can act like she's petty for "vilifying" the literal villain of her own goddamn story. And I don't even need to get started on the "Magneto Is Never Wrong" subgenre of villain apologism that you can find all over social media. These stans are all absolutely koo-koo!

I've seen this whitewashing/apologism garbage for villains spewed out ad nauseum and the Magnifico simps all sound the same as what I've seen out of those other villain simps - "He deserved better, he wasn't at fault for his mental downward spiral that Asha, the citizens of Rosas, and even his wife drove him to, how dare Disney vilify the mentally ill and victims of trauma like this, blah blah blah blah." And yet there was still one in particular with takes that made me go:

To be specific, it was the very same "Rainbow the Clown" take that this post gave a mention to. The person in question felt the need to mention that they're a Christian (and I hate that in the Trump era, that has become almost a red flag for me), and that as such, they believe that all black magic/dark magic has demonic roots and that they can recognize a demonic possession when they see one. Their interpretation of the film's events, which had absolutely zero basis in anything that was made the least bit explicit in the film itself, was that Magnifico reading from the tome of forbidden magic gave some anonymous demonic entity that progenerated that magic access into Magnifico's soul, mind, and body, and it overtook him. Therefore, everything Magnifico went on to do cannot be blamed on Magnifico himself, as he was "possessed" at the time, not in his right state of mind and not truly aware of the reality around him anymore. And this is why it was so cruel that he ended up punished rather than saved.

Yeah, about that. In the actual movie, there's zero mention of demons or otherworldly entities tied to that spellbook. The black magic itself that is conjured out from the book once the pages are read from and is able to make the spells and curses described within the book work is its own natural force. Its capabilities are destructive and once it bonds with its caster, it poisons their mind with an unbreakable addiction to using it, so that's why it was considered "forbidden" to start with. Magnifico unseals the tome and reads from its pages during his grievance-laden villain song, and we see this:

The magic comes out like green arms or ropes that coil around both of Magnifico's hands, and once they do, we see that green magic juice flow right inside of Magnifico, which briefly makes his eyes glow green as well. This is not "possession" - this is amalgamation. This magic binds itself to Magnifico like a symbiote, and in turn Magnifico is one with the magic now, committed to wielding it and making it manifest as awesome power to service his whims and desires. The literal next thing that happens after is the green fading from the king's eyes as he goes "Where was I? Oh yeah." After the process has be done, he shakes it off and resumes his singing, only now with the green dark magic at his disposal to freely use however he pleases. The magic and the destabilizing effect it has on Magnifico's mental state as he uses it to break and ingest magically contained wishes was not the cause of his turn to evil: it was the consequence of it.

And let's say that the book did contain a demonic entity that made the magic happen and it went into Magnifico to influence him from within a la Myotismon with Yukio Oikawa. It was still Magnifico's own damn fault because he chose to go back on his word to his wife and open up the forbidden book. He's no more absolved of calling out the demon than Mok Swagger is for deliberately summoning a demon to devour his own concertgoers. And no, "but he's just so traumatized!", "he's mentally ill with anxiety issues and was having a breakdown!", or "Asha and those selfish, ungrateful citizens drove him to it!" don't erase Magnifico's agency and capacity for making choices that he did, even in a limited time, think through and decided to go for it anyway. I'm not into the discourse over whether or not Magnifico could be redeemed or if he "deserved redemption" or not, but if you'd like to see a character's redemption, they need to have done some unjustifiable wrongs or else there's nothing to "redeem" them for!

(There was another Magnifico cultist who was a little more on point and likened the book and its magic to a substance abuse metaphor, drawing parallels between Magnifico and the character of Jack Torrance from Stephen King's The Shining. But they specifically paralleled his situation with King's Jack Torrance, when in the actual canonical narrative of the actual movie, Magnifico is Kubrick's Jack Torrance - the alcohol addiction isn't there to draw his inner demons back out so that a demonic entity can better use him and ultimately possess him, it's there to reveal who he always truly was deep down, which is what he becomes when he discards anything and everything in him that beforehand was reigning him in and holding him back.)

Another argument for the demonic possession theory? This part here in the climax, cited as the moment the entity was exorcised from Magnifico, leaving him confused and afraid of what he awoke to find himself currently facing before getting oh so wrongfully imprisoned.

....Folks, that's literally Sakina's wish, the first wish he broke and absorbed into himself through use of his newly acquired dark magic, coming back out from him. The green glow is there because, as just stated, it was that green dark magic that was used to eat the wishes in the first place. The green eyes and green glow fade from Magnifico to signify his power weakening. All the wishes that he absorbed after Sakina's come out from him following this. And if he'd really snapped out of a possession and was back to being his true "good" self at that point, why would the first thing out of his mouth be "NO! THOSE ARE MY WISHES!"? And if the demonic dark magic entity was gone, then where do the green magic hands that drag Magnifico into the tip of his scepter come from? The magic did not leave him because it cannot leave him; it's a part of him, he's a part of it. Reading from the pages of that book even once made him committed to the magic. It's a symbiotic bond and there's no breaking it. That was the point!

Last argument for this crackpot idea I saw from this person was that "high on green-colored dark magic" Magnifico cannot possibly be a valid representation of the king's true character because....his face when we first met him looked so handsome and kind! Look at him!

It's the same ol' "Hans' Twist Villain reveal was bullshit because he was not set up like a villain at any point beforehand, meaning he was not a villain until that very moment, and we can tell this because he never LOOKED evil!" argument, the one that usually relied on a single moment of Hans giving a sweet looking yet condescendingly fond and amused grin to himself after having met Anna that ignores all context, and is based on the idea that only cartoon caricatures of delightfully foul and obvious evilness have to exist to play the villain in place of realistic people in a Disney animated movie, as in real life, evil people aren't easy to identify just by looking at them. The thing is that some Disney villains, arguably all the way back to the likes of Stromboli and the Coachman in Pinocchio, serve as reflections of the dangers of people that have existed and still do exist in the world. King Magnifico is that for the covert narcissist in a position of authority that they're prone to abuse. Yeah, he won't always have EVIL BASTARD written all over his face, but there's context for why that is. In that first image, he's just talking to another person when that person is applying for a job working for him, and as such he plays the part of the kind, charming, generous and benevolent king. In the second image, he's looking at the wishes. The beauty within those magic wish orbs and the splendor their magic gives off make him very happy; that's part of why he hoards as many as possible.

That is King Magnifico.

^ And THAT is ALSO King Magnifico.

He's a villain. He visibly enjoys being a villain. He is valid as a villain. Let villains be villains and love them for that, dammit!

[whorrorbellee]

Cherry Waves : two and a half

Ghostface! Danny Johnson x f!reader

Danny just had to save you. He just had to save your poor sad life. Knocking your sad frail body against fake plastic tiles. Shoving his fingers down your throat like a kid fishing for pennies. What was it you wrote in your diary? Your shiny white masked knight in a black shroud? Well how cute. Maybe it was time he kept a pet around.Just to play or course.18+ : eventual smut, themes of suicide (reader attempts), selfharm, sexual content, murder, themes of violence

ao3 prolouge masterlist

 11th August 1992

Roseville sure is something. Hot weather, Sunny skies. Rednecks. Everything I had wanted to avoid until now. Utah was great, born and raised. Left poor pa alone in the farmhouse at nineteen. Burnt to a crisp, the detective said. Goddamn alcoholic could never remember to see if the fire had gone dead before laying his head down on the pillow. Too damn bad. 

Danny Johnson would become Martin Lee the small town photographer somewhere in Arizona, and then I was Jack Mayfield, the slightly deplorable stoner writer in california. But in Pennsylvania Jed Olson was born. Kind hearted, protective. Red blooded american that wanted to uphold traditional family values. The type of guy you'd see a pretty blonde next to with six kids. Jed Olson was perfect and fucking irritating. He was the type of guy you would ask to set up shelves in your apartment. And god i fucking hated it, i still do. At first Jed was sweet, he could lend a hand. Enjoyed a cold one. Then where's your girlfriend Jed? Or maybe you're gay? I've got a daughter you could take out some time? When are you gonna settle down?

So in New York Jed Became colder. But the problem with New york. Half of my work got lost to gang violence and hate crimes, by the time i had figured out who Jed really was, Ghostface had been lost in a lineup of violent Men and petty thefts. So I moved smaller. Florida. Small baptist town wedge between Jacksonville and St. Augustine. You could hardly call it a town, in reality it was a housing estate with ten shops lined up, a couple of offices and three different churches, two within the town and the third connected to a road that led you straight out of roseville and into St.Augustine. It was perfect. Enough crazies to not get caught, drive close enough that someone out of town could come in and kill. And small enough to cause a frenzine. 

So while I was in New York, I took as many freelance photography jobs as I could. Let myself wake up with cheap instant coffee and gouged myself on instant ramen, until I had enough to buy a truck from a guy I knew and road-trip myself down to florida. 

And here I was, a man with very little to say in the matter. Even though I had a way with words. It took me less than five minutes to wedge myself into the crew at roseville gazette. Mike had welcomed me with open arms after I had fooled him with my American values. White picket, 2.5 kids and a cute dog laid out on a plate for him to stuff his face with. 

12 September 1992. 

One month has passed and I'm settled in at last. Work is fine. Writing about lost dogs and people who've found rings along the shore. Work is boring. It's not really my work, well it is.  But not the work I really want to do. In-fact , I'm craving it. I'm not sure how long I'm going to last. Sometimes I just want to take Adam's face and crush it between the wall and the door in the stairwell. And I won't! God I could never. Well I could.  Just not Adam. Adam is great. He's really perfect. He's so anxious and erratic everytime a crime is committed. When I start and I mean really start (not drive to Georgia and kill some rando) he's just going to snap. Linda is great. She keeps to herself and writes pieces about Best places to take your family this (insert month) or should your kids be having sugar?. 

There's a list in my head of who I want to take out. I haven't started watching just yet. Need to get adjusted to the town properly. I've been going on runs every night. Keep the stamina up and find out every slip road and street I can hide on. To the others I'm in a health kick. Waving past dog walkers and drunk teens. James told me he saw me running outside his house and that he'd wanted to get together for an early morning run the next sunday. And now there's a group of us at 6am. I drive to the closest diner after and order the biggest breakfast platter they have. 

Case no: 289 D75   Date: 5th July 1984

Reporting officer: DC Smith

Prepared by: PC Stein

Incident: Fire at the Johnson’s farm house on 4th July 1984 at 11pm . 

Event details: I was attending the 4th of July celebrations with my girlfriend. After the fireworks stopped at around 10:45. The family packed up and I asked if she wanted to head back to mine. We got to the farm house and the place was on fire. The house was practically black. We went to the nearest phone so I could call the emergency services. 

I thought my dad might have gone out. But when the fire was put out, they recovered his body. When I left him he was on the sofa passed out. He usually drinks whiskey. I knew it was him because of the white gold wedding ring around his neck.

30th september 1992

So Mike's niece has officially started her job. Which has ruined all plans of me developing my own photos in the office. I'm sure she couldn't help it. Nepo babied her way into a job. Fresh out college and straight into the office. Didn't even have to have a shitty barista job first. She's shy and slightly skittish. Pays no attention to where she's going. Always tripping over her own feet. The good thing is now we have software to edit photos after mike bought a one year package to see how far it gets us. 

She lives next to me. I passed her in the stairwell and walked behind her on the way home. 

She doesn't crack a smile when I do. Hardly ever reactive. Emotionless. Faked a smile on her first day before curling inward on her desk to jot something down. 

An enigma. Uncharmable .

16th October 1992

I didn't mean to do it. I was just a little rusty. I don't have time for mistakes. And I panicked. I dont panic. I never have. What little humanity I have left in me is reserved for good coffee and books. So I climbed into the wrong window that night. Mine was one over. A complete accident. Someone had swung a brick at my face and knocked me sideways. So I was a little puzzled when the bare apartment I lived in had a shitty two seater armchair and a pretty girl laid on it. And I had nearly turned away. But the pill bottle had glowed under the moonlight and headlights of late night drivers. When I had picked them up and the out of date pills rattled inside. I looked upon the pretty girl who I thought was asleep. Breathing erratic. Eyes rolling to the back of her head. Lying in a puddle of her own sweat. 

Well I just panicked. Picking up her body and rushing to the toilet. Scraped along plastic tiles. My hands held her up by her neck and I shoved two thick fingers down her throat until I had felt her gag. Barely held up by her knees. Watching her puke into the toilet. 

I should've left her there. Let the darkness swallow her up. Swelled in the bathroom. Let the police press a black body bag to her skin. Cracked tiled angel. Another lost to the hidden disease. And I gazed into her eyes, half shut. Her mouth opened as her head fell into the crook of my neck. Soft skin against the rough fabric of my shroud. I felt her heartbeat grow stronger. Poison exiting her body.

So instead I pressed her to the shower wall and washed her body, dressed her in the softest pyjamas I could find. Held her like my own. Held her like Piper wished I would. 

I won't make this mistake again.

[nephriteknight]

Highlights From My Bells Hells Playlist

So I have a Bells Hells playlist that has some really perfect songs if I do say so myself, and I want to talk about my choices! So here's some of my favorites. (Here is the full playlist btw, with songs ranging from word-for-word-perfect to Just The Right Vibes Idk Man)

Rule #2 - Moonlight by Fish in A Birdcage For Orym :) About a person on the moon singing to their lover on Earth. "All I want is to come home to you." Is this song about Will or about Dorian? I think it's even better because it works for both. There are lines that are for Will and lines that are for Dorian and it's all mixed up and full of longing and in light of recent confessions? Just perfectly heartbreaking. "Finally broke down / Houston, please come in / There's someone that I need to talk to / Honey, how've you been? / I miss you, my dear / There's something that I have to say" "It's good to hear your voice / I'll tell you what the world looks like from up here / there's hurricanes / and blizzards too / please stay safe and warm 'til I get to you"

Control by Halsey For Laudna. This one is very straightforward. "And all the kids cried out please stop you're scaring me / I can't help this awful energy / Goddamn right you should be scared of me / Who is in control?" The rest works pretty well too, there's more lines that feel Very Delilah, it just works.

Allies or Enemies by The Crane Wives For the whole party! I happened to get into this song right when the whole "powder keg" conversation happened, and it's only gotten more relevant. "Are we allies or enemies? This will be the death of me." It's great it's perfect it's them. "What happens now? / Do we have another go / Do we bow out / And take our seperate roads / I'll admit I've had my doubts / But I want to be let in not out" "Remember when I could tell you not to smile when you were mad / And you would always crack / And we'd both be laughing in the end? / Now you're not so quick to forget"

Moving in Place by Shauna Dean Cokeland This song is so Ashton. It's about using drugs as a teenager and feeling stagnated, blaming things on other people, drowning in daydreams where you're awesome, spending time with a group of friends you really care about.... It works quite well. (I also really recommend this song if you have ADHD/use music to stim, it's got really great overlapping vocals and kinda scratchy sound--this is the song I put on when my brain is eating itself and no other music can get through to it. It's great.) "Take me to the far side of the beach / Before it falls into the ocean / Before you notice I'm eroding / I know you don't wanna be lonely / I know 'cause I would feel the same thing" I'm having trouble picking out specific quotes because they're all really wordy and long, but trust me it works and it's a great song.

Soap by The Oh Hellos Ashton! I especially like this for Ashton and Orym (platonic or romantic both are good) but it also works for Ashton and the Hells—and once again, this song hits even harder after the shard incident. As far as picking specific lines I just want to quote like the whole song, but I'll exercise some restraint. "I've heard since I was younger / That oil and water don't mix / They're polar opposites / With a molecular rift you can't fix / But I swear with all your burnt bridges / You can leech what's caustic and find / A rudimentary lye / Some kind of miraculous bind" "Oh, no / I think I'm not quite ready / To let you circle the drain / All the things we've broken / Can be puzzled together again / All your sums and your pieces / Are enough to clean up all / The messes you've made" "I think that you're worth keeping around. I think that you're worth holding onto." "I've heard if I were tougher / Then maybe I'd make it alive / I've got a tender side / I'll need a harder shell to survive / But if seeing is believing / I don't know I've seen a thing grow / Without an open coat / Not without a softness showing / I know maybe you're not quite ready / To loosen your hold / On the safety blanket you've been keeping around your shoulders / But your sums and your pieces / Are enough to make you whole / You gotta let go" "It's gonna hurt like hell / but we're gonna be well / I'll give you my best shot" Oops I basically just quoted the whole song. But look how perfect it is!!

The Leaving of Liverpool (folk song; I like this version by The High Kings) This one's for Dorian! Specifically, for Dorian leaving :( It's an old folk song about going away from home and leaving your love behind. It's not as character specific or detail heavy, but it just feels so right for Dorian having to leaving Orym and Fearne in Jrusar. "So fare thee well my own true love, and when I return united we will be. It's not the leaving of Liverpool that grieves me, but my darling, when I think of thee." My mom and I go to a Celtic Christmas concert every year, and one of the last songs is always this one. Everybody knows it, and they invite us all to join in the chorus. It's a beautiful moment, and I'm so grateful to Brian O'Donovan, the host, who passed away this year. He brought so much joy and gave so many people a piece of their home to enjoy here. He will be missed.

Canary in a Coal Mine by The Crane Wives If the title didn't clue you in, this one's for FCG! It's not just because of the mine, though, it all works really well. This song is about the 'canary', who puts so much into a relationship, doing everything to keep their partner happy and support them, but fears that when they need help themself their partner will abandon them. "Feed me promises, keep my heart well / I'll sing you songs until the darkness does recede / But if in the end I lose my voice / Will you forget about your love for me?" "Let the dirt hang heavy in your chest / Drag me deeper down the long, dark ground / Know that all my love will your breath / I will save you when your lights go out"

Bonus: A Convocation of Fauns (A Faunvocation If You Will) by the Oh Hellos Fearne. The title says it all. (It's just instrumental lol)

[katyspersonal]

I've made more SOTE progress!!!! And I MEAN progress this time! Damn that was fun but I don't know whether to feel happy or sad because like I said, I really don't want this DLC to end ;-;

1) So, I went in the direction of the ruins place..... and then turned around and decided to get back to whatever dragons business I still had left bfhhhvhg And started with that cave which I recalled had a Wyrm (and also a HUGE bowl of spaghetti sauce gfhyhh)

2) After I killed it, I actually went back to Florissax! Apparently this is the name of Dragon Communion Priestess that is revealed indirectly, much like Boggart's! By that time, @val-of-the-north woke up and I allowed him to take my hand here because he warned me that her quest is terribly broken. And, God... -_- You have no idea how much, but perhaps I am getting ahead of myself....... 🤦‍♂️

3) I heard that I needed to kill two drakes above first, and my reaction was just 💀💀💀💀💀 Because I am AWFUL at fighting them! ......Or I USED to be, but perhaps I am getting ahead of myself hfuhfhybj [2]

4) Found this item in a shack nearby!

5) So, I figured that my usual "strategy" was not going to fly, and finally bothered to upgrade a weapon (big katana) with the built-in anti-dragon effect! You know, a weapon you OBTAIN in this very DLC! HOOOOOO BOY AT LAST!! TWO WEEKS LATER, SHE FINALLY GOT THE BRIGHTEST IDEA TO USE THE TOOLS SHE'S BEEN GIVEN 🙄🤦‍♂️

6) So I proceeded to go above, and met a singular drake, so I decided to actually fight it normally! No pussy long ass distance dumbass Int user combat! Close combat and learning the dodging patterns only!!

And it actually worked. I actually finally adapted to the dragons' moveset and when to roll in and not away, and how to stay around their feet right and how to run from the fire! After two goddamn years of struggling with dragons (excluding SOMEHOW first-trying Borealis, the frozen dragon) I adapted 🙄🙄🙄🤦‍♂️

7) Cool lore:

These grow from the burnt dead bodies across the peak and don't respawn

8) So yeah, in the next place, there were two drakes fighting each other (sure guys whatever), and I figured the boss one can first kill the weaker one so I was just standing and watching them like 🍿 until one left!

9) After defeating THIS one, I felt so much power that I decided to side-track and go back to kill two other dragons (the undead ones in Scadu Altus and Cerulean Coast). I didn't need it, I just felt SUCH a strong urge to do that, you have no idea!!!

9.1) Well, first I actually talked with Igon, because after both of the fighting drakes were killed he laughs and praises us for being a great drake warrior xD He gave me an item (his cut finger) that opens a change to summon him against Bayle, which he really asked to do!

9.2) Okay ANOTHER thing I did was to finally jOiN cOvEnAnT to talk with Florissax that Val asked me to do, because according to him I needed to talk to her at night, which was only possible after defeating the two drakes + I could now ask about Igon

9.3) She also revealed the roots of Dragon fascism; turns out that Ancient Dragons are after Drakes not for some prejudice reason against their species being "diluted", but because Bayle was the one to wound Placidusax and HE is the drake. Argh, can ONE person in this DLC have motivation to be an asshole that is NOT revenge!

10) So I was running around for a bit longer, visited another mine not far away from previous dragon (saw the big rock dude petting the lava slime there), and finally returned to Florissax!

....so, first, she was not appearing during the night. I tried to rest at the grace, still nothing. I tried again, nothing. I asked Val what was going on, and he wasn't sure and went looking on forums, meanwhile I tried to restart from another grace and travel to her location before the night was over! She still did not appear. 🙄

At this rate I started to wonder whether I broke the quest by not talking to her earlier before getting to Igon, but just for the heck of it rested at grace again, but now I skipped time to the night even though it already WAS the night! And then she FINALLY appeared near the Altar at night!! ...only, no new options or dialogue appeared!

According to Val again, I needed to catch her praying to herself so I could give her an item I already had. I reloaded the area, no praying. Reloaded it again, still nothing. Reloaded it again, and she straight up disappeared 🤦‍♂️ I thought that was it, and quest got broken, but just in case I quit the game and started it again.... AND IT WORKED.

....I am WITHOUT WORDS. According to Val, Jarburg quest used to be the same on launch.

11) But yes, she was praying to Placidussax, saying she surrendered her sleep so he could rest, and we got the choice to use Thiollier potion, that did mention it'd merely make dragons sleep for a bit. Damn... to think of it, Elden Ring quests give enough hints.

12) Val reassured me that was it and I just needed to skip a few days in game, so I went to murder remaining drakes! Fast enough, I killed them! Both of them!! However, the one in Scadu Altus was fighting with a lot of Black Knights and it was just entertaining to watch for like 15 minutes until they all finally died 🍿🍿🍿

13) me before: NOOOOO WHY DRAGONS ARE SO HARD, Val I do NOT want to hear your yapping about how they're not """that""" bad, I don't care and I will just run past them ;-;

me now: NOOOOOO WHY ALL DRAGONS IN THE GAME ARE OVER ALREADY, they needed to put more of them in to kill!!!! ;-;

14) I talked to her, where she was very crashed by having fallen asleep:

"I have broken my pledge. I succumbed to the deep slumber... that was meant for my Lord. Twas a craven act! Of a foul and lowly beast! Forgive me, good warrior. My Lord will no longer look upon me. I have fallen from grace. An old dragon no longer. Go on, leave me be."

15) So, I did gfjgffhg And proceeded to go above! Honestly, when I was looking at this area in the world's map, I was SURE it wasn't explorable...

Also, my complaining about no longer having dragons to kill was met!! There was another dragon, an ancient one now! It gave me a bit of a challenge for several times, but I remembered that rocky things are all weak to magic damage so that + defending myself from bolt more helped x)

15.1) This dragon is named Senessax... Sigh... Remember my theory about Placidussax? Zullie (the youtuber) datamined that he had 2 male heads and 3 female heads (1 male and 2 female missing), so I speculated that those heads turned into Granssax, Fortissax and Lanseax? Now that there are more dragons named with -sax, I feel like this theory aged like milk ;-; On the bright note, I recall King's Field (?) had a pair of white and black dragons siblings, so since Fortissax is black and Lanseax is pale and they're siblings, maybe it is return of the trope?

15.2) Fingers in the Ruins are rocky creatures with gold (AKTYALY amber) sewn into them, and ancient dragons are rocky creatures with amber sewn into them... I guess the ancient life is just like this?

16) I finally met Bayle!!!!!! And I actually laughed when Igon INSTANTLY started screaming curses at him upon being summoned XDDD The most character ever! Also cute that he said Bayle was going to face "the true drake warrior and him" gfhhbv He doesn't acknowledge himself as one anymore because of his fear, but acknowledges US!

Took me a few tries, but like I said, I finally adapted! 😎

17) Returned to his corpse:

(He also dropped his bell bearing, need to check the item it gets later just in case)

18) I talked with Florissax about the victory! She gave dialogue: "Ahh, finally, our wish is granted. Our dream, long yearned for, has come to pass. My Lord was blessed with great insight. He saw in the insatiable hunger and fierce spirit of man, the very things that would fell Bayle, our wretched nemesis. Warrior, you soar with the strength of dragons. Whereas I am fallen. Leave me be."

And gave this item! Sooooo that's how her name got revealed!

19) There was an option to tell her that we put her into sleep ;-; I was a bit nervous to pick it but felt like I should jtythhhgb

"Never, in all my years... How could you inflict such cruelty? No, that is not for me to judge. Whatever your hand in it, it was I who succumbed to the sweetness of slumber. The fault lies with me. I may be fallen, but I need not surrender my honour."

Arghhh shut up girl, you talk like an abuse victim :/ Not even a slap in the face?

20) So, she continued:

"On the second thought (? not certain, I forgot to write the starter), I believe you do owe me something for the transgression. On a mere whim, you've stripped me of my one and only Lord. As such, I require another - you. One day, may you become a dragon whole, a Lord of your own making. Lead me, and I will follow. My good Lord."

.....well, "now you have to adopt me" is sure one way to solve the conflict, I guess hfhgfnh

21) This way, I got her spirit ash:

So yeah, I ASSUME that her set is available, and I am not 100% sure whether her head piece is just the mask or simply how her head is supposed to look! She does have a face data, but she would need to since her model uses NPC mechanics, so it could be ignored?

I just haven't seen the description yet, but ER logic does let us adopt to appearances of others (like getting hair of other characters for example), and her body appears to be very black and shriveled, with sharp inhuman features! I sure hope that her look IS how ancient dragons in human form are supposed to look! It would offer an insight on how Lansseax used to look when communicating with the Dragon Cult!

(Besides I am still biased since I wss cursed with boring portrayals of Godwyn x Fortissax where the latter was a basic bitch yaoi bishounen without even the slightest monstrous features 😔 Even horny Lanseax waifu artistd had the basic dignity to at least add some horns and scales hfhyghj Okay that was my monthly voucher of being a petty bitch used, until the next time when my mask of respecting all type of creations cracks hdhhjgfhhnhh)

______________

Conclusion: character development if I've had one lol

[pondslime]

do you think Bo really fucking loves orange juice or was he just looking for quick sugars to counter the blood loss?? also why did he think to do that. does he think getting nailed with an arrow to the chest is the same as donating to the Red Cross?? does he know what the Red Cross is??? whose waffle is that?? how do u just leave a waffle in there?? I bet he cooked it once and it wasn't cooked enough. so he pushed it down again for another round and then it got burnt. and he looked at it and said "dadgummit not again" and left it there to be someone else's problem. and it was the last one and Vincent came upstairs and all the waffles were gone except that one. and he sighed and looked at it for a long time. and when he saw it again in the toaster while he's fixing his damn face and his dumbass sweaty brother is like "lulul god n mama n stuff" Vincent was like. I've never seen the ocean. I bet I could drive to the ocean in, what, four hours?? buy a box of waffles on the way home. this bitch is still talking. you know he talks to himself all the time. he does an Elvis impression in the mirror sometimes. it's not good. I'm gonna do it. I'm going to the ocean. motherfucker drank all the juice too. goddammit. I hate this fucking family. wish I was adopted like Lester. "there's two more." yeah I know. idiot. there were six. what have you been doing?? having sexy garage time?? christ you suck. how are we related. where's the guy with the crossbow I'd like to have a word. he needs to work on his aim. I'll put you in a headlock and let him practice. fuck you're sweaty you smell like ass. stay ten feet away from me please. yeah whatever I'll help you I guess. already been helping but it's fine, mr. never-leave-here-without-me. mr. mayor of wax town. I crush the seniors at bingo at the country club every Wednesday and you haven't even noticed I'm gone. too busy playing every single role in Our Town by yourself. moron.

JDSFHJFHSJHFSDJHFJHFJD MEG

BACKWASHING INTO THIS ORANGE JUICE!!!!

HEATHEN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

when I watched this movie for the first time last year I entirely thought that man FULLY picked up a jug of lukewarm tang off the counter and just slurped it down. bc I missed the sound of him opening the fridge jsfhjhdsfjhdsf. and I was like GODDAMN THIS SET DESIGN IS OFF THE SHITS THIS IS REALLY HOW MEN BE LIVIN. HJFDSHJHFDSJ LUKEWARM TANG ON THE COUNTER

he's so stupid dumb delirious in that scene I've watched it 37874949328 times. just like. immediately deciding to YANK that shit through his arm hsdghgfsdhgfdhs. all of the blood that was channeled directly into his murder boner in the previous scenes has made him lightheaded and he is not THINKING CLEARLY hjdsjhfsjdhsd the fact that he doesn't think to snip it off. just PULLS that THANG straight through his stupid dumb idiot arm!!! the nerve damage!!! he is so sexy for that I love a dumbass man more than anything fr

VINCENT PONDERING THE LACK OF EGGO WAFFLES BC BO WAS TOO BUSY SEDUCING HIS TOOTHPASTE STAINS IN THE MIRROR TO NOT BURN THE LAST ONE JSDJDFHJFDS

sexy garage time is taking me out jhsdajhdsajhajsdhjdsh imagine all the years of vincent being responsible for the majority of the killcount bc bo goes oogabooga I want sum fuck on my silly goofy sex swing in my gas station jsdhjfdhsjfsdhj

vincent's turning wade into a wax sculpture and chopping dalton's head off and javelining a pole through paige's head and meanwhile. bo is blasting marilyn manson and having unsuccesful murderfuck preamble in his stupid basement jfdshjfhdsjhfdsj

BO JUST STINKING OF SWEAT AND VOMIT AND BLOOD and vincent tryin to maneuver himself away from him sdhjfdshjfdsh like bitch!!! I tried to check on ur fuckin injuries!! and u told me to GIT??? like I'm a dog???? and now ur sweaty diseased sickly self is leaning over me tryin 2 talk about how sexy u are and what god took away from me??? fuck outta here lmao

dsjhgfjdshjfdsh vincent playing bingo is so fuckin funny to me I'm cryin

[bnha-more-like-bnh-gay]

So, for a couple of years now, I've been reading the old X-Men comics of the 70s & 80s, and a few recent issues from '87 have given me a great idea for an AU.

Ready?

Dazzler!Izuku 😀

So, Izuku is born with a quirk that allows him to transform sound into photonic energy. Anything from generating benign blobs of light that move, pulsate, and change color in relation to whatever music he's listening to (tho, this can be weaponized too; during the sludge villain attack, Izuku overwhelms the villain's eyes with a fantastic light show that leaves him catatonic), to concentrating a single, loud noise into a laser beam that deals concussive damage.

Izuku would, of course, gravitate towards Present Mic as a mentor. And he would team up well with Jirou.

So, what do you think?

I AM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG TO REPLY TO, SCHOOL AND MY MENTAL HEALTH FUCKED ME OVER. I have had half of this in my queue for about 3 months, ya bitch was just burnt tf out 💀

But dude, I absolutely fucking love this 😭😭

Heads up, my knowledge of physics is limited so I’m not going to be talking much about the actual details of his quirk until after I learn more about it, but I hope you enjoy!!!

Izuku who makes physics jokes.

He has shirts with physics puns on them. A shirt that says, “the photon checked into the hotel and was asked if it had any bags, it said, “no thanks, I’m traveling light!”

Reminds me of the time I was dual enrolling and in my psychology class, I said, “I once asked the librarian if she had a book on Pavlov’s dog and Schrödinger’s cat. She said it rung a bell but she wasn’t sure if it was there or not!”

I thought I was so funny, but everyone else hated me.

Izuku is that kid. He does that shit

Inko loves it, she thinks her son is hilarious. Mic loves it. The little lister is so smart! Nezu has a goddamn field day. Aizawa is so tired, but secretly likes the jokes. He face palms every time and acts like it’s the end of the world, but he does like them. Midnight thinks it’s great, she asks izuku for more jokes/puns all the time. Mainly to annoy Aizawa. But still. BRUH, MISS JOKE. SHE LOVES THIS LITTLE SHIT. I honestly feel like all might wouldn’t understand most of them, but he’d love them anyway.

Izuku: I was studying frequencies, but now my brain Hertz.

He accidentally freaks people out the first few weeks in the dorm because they’re not used to it/expecting it.

The number of times mina asks for mood lighting

I really want to drive home that he makes an unholy amount of puns

He doesn’t even try to, it just happens so naturally. Shouto has theorized that it’s a secondary quirk.

You have spoken directly to my soul with mentor mic (and Jirou/izuku friends)

They’d all work so well together though

Mic brings him to Put Your Hands Up Radio not only to work with his quirk, but to help with his nerves

It is no secret that izuku is a nervous lad, but I raise you, mic was also a nervous lad (personal headcanon, but you cannot tell me that lad doesn’t have generalized anxiety)

Mic helps izuku gain some coping mechanisms (or coping mic-anisms if you will (thank you, thank you))

Mic is a nerd, izuku is a nerd, Jirou is cool, but a nerd. Jirou, similar to Aizawa, rolls her eyes at the physics puns, but does she think they’re funny? Yes. Yes, she does. They defends izuku when people mock his puns

Mic couldn’t be prouder of his children

Thank you for the ask! I hope you enjoyed! Sorry it was kinda short 😅

[justhere4thevibez]

annual writing self-evaluation

thank you @pipergirl17 and @erythromanc3r for tagging me!

1. List of works published this year (in no particular order):

oh gosh, I've been busy-busy this year with fanfic, so here goes!

Complete works:

... And a Hellcheer New Year 

Galentines and Valentines

Hold Onto Me

Devil in the Woods

Every Time I Run, I Run to You

Eddie and Chrissy Go to a Wedding 

Knocking Me Out With Those American Thighs

Cooking Up Something Sweet

Please Don't Say You Love Me

Let Me Start Over Again

You Got Me Good

Be My Breath (Through the Deep, Deep Water)

This Old Man

Do You Wanna Touch Me

My Words Will Be Your Light

She'll See I'm Not So Tough 

She Knows What She Wants

Give Me a Taste

The Right Kind of Sinner

Release My Inner Fantasy

Hooked on a Feeling

Whiskey & Wine

The Graveyard Smash

Long Is the Road Out of Hell 

In a Sentimental Mood

Set My Soul On Fire

Burnin' Out of Control

WIPs:

Looking For Something Dumb To Do

I Can't Get Rid of You 

If You Fall, I Will Catch You 

2. Work you are most proud of (and why):

hmmmmm, that's a tough one! I love them all for different reasons, but I will say I'm very proud of Long Is the Road Out of Hell because it's my longest fanfic to date (almost 60k!) and at one point I really wasn't sure if I'd be able to finish it. but I did!

3. Work you are least proud of (and why):

tbh if I'm not proud of something, I won't publish it. but I think the work that frustrated me the most was Whiskey & Wine, my kinktober fic. I pushed myself too hard with too big of a goal and burnt myself out halfway through. but I did learn the importance of setting boundaries for myself (and why I need to be careful committing to challenges 😅)

4. A favorite excerpt of your writing:

not gonna lie, once I publish something, the words tend to leave my brain, so I don't always remember what I write lol. I should probably keep a doc of good lines from my fics so I have something to present when people ask me 😂 but here are two excerpts that I'm pretty proud of.

Devil in the Woods: He had loved her since the first time he opened his eyes to find her snuggled up on his chest. He had loved her longer, since the moment he’d held her in his arms on that endlessly rainy night. And longer still, he’d loved the little girl who played jacks with him on May Day and laughed at his wild antics.

Hooked on a Feeling: He knew he could be… a lot, as kinder people said. A goddamn nuisance, according to everyone else. He didn’t mean to be, he just tended to… latch on to things. Kind of like a bulldog (but in a nice and lovable way, thank you, Jeff). And right now he had ChrissyChrissyChrissy clamped tight between his jaws, and he hoped to god she didn’t ask him to let go.

5. Share or describe a favorite comment you received:

I have a few regular commenters who give me the longest, loveliest comments where they literally analyze each chapter section by section 😭 it makes me feel so loved. but as for one individual comment, I distinctly remember a commenter from one of my early fics commenting on a really tough scene I did re: chrissy's eating disorder. they said that they also had an eating disorder, and that chapter was very healing for them. I don't think I'll ever get another comment as powerful as that.

6. A time when writing was really, really hard:

I go in and out of mild anxious/depressive episodes, mostly due to outside stressors, and that makes it really hard to write. writing is the one constant joy in my life, and when I don't even feel like doing that, I know something is very, very wrong. but luckily, they don't usually last too long!

7. A scene or character that you wrote that surprised you:

mike's redemption arc in Long Is the Road! that one was a total curveball to me, and it only came about because it was the closest place I could think of to have Chrissy walk to after her mom kicked her out. total accident, but it spawned on of my favorite sibling-ships for chrissy that I've ever written!

also writing wayne's pov! i never intended to do that, but once I started, his voice just kind of stuck in my head 😂

8. How did you grow as a writer this year:

I wrote a lot. like over 300k of fanfic. and i even got back into writing some original fiction, which I'm so excited about!

I also started writing smut for the first time in 2023, which was something I never anticipated doing, let alone enjoying! but it's been super fun

9. How do you hope to grow next year:

I'd like to work more on my original fiction, maybe get a short story published. I'd also like to get better at world-building! I tend to get so focused on the characters that I forget they exist in a place I should spend some time creating lol

10. Who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer or beta or cheerleader or muse etc etc):

@slumped-in-the-arms-of-fiction all the way! she's been such a wonderful beta reader, cheerleader, and overall positive influence on my writing. I Can't Get Rid of You wouldn't ever have happened without her support and feedback!

11. Anything in your real life show up in your writing this year:

ooh, buddy! pieces of myself get sprinkled all over the damn place 😂 but as for specifics...

Galentines and Valentines opening scene was reminiscent of the girls' nights me and my college friends used to have (and still have sometimes)

Hooked on a Feeling had elements of my own past experiences of being laid up in a hospital (and being very annoyed about it)

This Old Man was absolutely inspired by my love of Columbo

You Got Me Good definitely included some of my own thoughts and feelings about when I get a little too high 😂

12. Any new wisdom you can share with other writers:

give your writing time.

it's so tempting when you have a new idea to jump on it and then get frustrated when it doesn't immediately turn out the way you want, but I've found that if I give myself time to think over a piece before I write it, and let it sit for a little while after I write it, I'm much happier with the end results!

13. Any new projects you’re looking forward to starting (or finishing) in the new year:

finishing my three WIPs! and hopefully a little christmas fic 😂 I don't have anything else immediately in the works, thank god!

14. Tag three writers/artists whose answers you’d like to read:

@1lostsoul0fishbowl @pearlypairings @rose-n-gunses and anybody else!!!

[goddevouringserpent]

For Kaija!

2. How do they feel about Areelu Vorlesh?

8. What do they desire the most?

24. Where do they come from in Golarion? Do they miss their homeland? How do they feel about their homeland, its politics and current state?

2. How do they feel about Areelu Vorlesh?

Kai's views on Areelu are a lot simpler than Irenni's, lol. They despise her, plain and simple. No nuance, no place for compassion, no grey moral areas. It's not that Kaija has a particularly strong moral compass or anything, it's just that on a subconscious level she kind of blames Areelu for everything bad that has happened to her. Being born a tiefling in a country war-ravaged by demons, and the subsequent hit to her quality & stability of life that carried; the curse of her mythic powers—because, for her, they truly felt like a curse; the way I headcanon it, Kaija did not really have a choice regarding what shape they took, she was "forced" into the Demon path since she was so overwhelmed—and the goddamn wound that won't stop bleeding and may or may not kill her eventually; the fact that she's been put in charge of the Crusade which is a role she did not want at all, thankyouverymuch (even if they intend to make use of it for their own benefit)… She can circle every single thing back to Areelu and hates her on a deeply personal level because of that. Sure, Kai already disliked her because of the whole Worldwound thing, they're not entirely bereft of concern for Golarion as a whole—if only because they live in it—but the true depths of their hatred for Areelu are 100% due to how she influenced their life & stripped them of agency more than once. As a result, Kaija actively takes pleasure in shedding her mythic Demon powers and in killing Areelu once and for all.

8. What do they desire the most?

Oh, power. Definitely power. She's very similar to Woljif in that respect: a rough past, a score to settle, and enough bitterness to last a lifetime. She would very much like to be waited on hand-and-foot & to never go without food or shelter again, but there's also an edge of, like… wanting to make sure nobody can ever order her around again, and if that means she's got to claw her way up to the top, so be it.

That being said, they don't want just any kind of power. If they did, they would've kept their mythic ones, consequences and irreparable damage to their psyche be damned. Kaija wants power she's earned, power that belongs solely and entirely to her, because she doesn't want to rely on anyone other than herself and, eventually, the precious few people she trusts. She doesn't care for any power that comes with a leash.

She is also a huge hedonist who craves all that is comfortable and beautiful in life, and a hell of a glory-hound who wants her name to go down in history, but I suppose that last one is par for the course for a skald. (Yep I changed her class lol. Sword Saint just wasn't cutting it characterisation-wise.)

24. Where do they come from in Golarion? Do they miss their homeland? How do they feel about their homeland, its politics and current state?

Even though she's been around thanks to her mercenary work, Kaija is from Mendev! Really, if it weren't for her circumstances, the fact that she returned when she did could be considered the greatest stroke of luck in recent history (note: I am aware of the twist regarding Areelu and how long the KC has been, uh… out of commission… but I personally think the timeline established is a bit strange so I've reduced it to, roughly, five years).

She doesn't have much in the way of an opinion on Mendev, honestly? Doesn't think too highly of it—as far as Kai's concerned, the place is crawling with holier-than-thou hypocrites—but they wouldn't care to see it burnt to a crisp, either. The best way to describe it, I think, is that despite being their birthplace, it has never felt like home, and they feel no special connection to it one way or another. Just another place that turned its back on her on account of her heritage, but was all too quick to take advantage of her when it had to. Nothing new, get in line.

Regarding politics, though… man, let's just say that Kaija starts WOTR heavily disliking Galfrey from the get-go. A lot of it is petty resentment at first, but with time it does coalesce into something more justified (at least as far as Kai is concerned).

[randomestfandoms-ocs]

The Rise And Fall Of A Midwest Princess Prompt List

Prompts for The Rise and Fall of a Midwest Princess by Chappell Roan (+ Good Luck Babe as a treat), practice good reblog karma and sent a prompt or two to the person you reblog this from

Same old story, time again, got so close but then you lost it

He disappeared from the second that you said, “Let's get coffee, let's meet up"

I'm so sick of online love

You pretend to love his mother

Lying to your friends about how he's such a goddamn good lover

I just want you to make a move so slow down, sit down, it's new

I just wanna get to know ya, guess I didn't quite think it through

Fell in love with the thought of you, now I'm choked up, face down, burnt out

Long hair, no bra, that's my type, that's right

You just told me want me to fuck you

I heard you like magic, I got a wand and a rabbit

So baby let's get freaky, get kinky, let's make this bed get squeaky

My mama said nothing good happens when it's late and you're dancing alone

She's in my head saying it's not attractive, wearing that dress and red lipstick

I've been a good, good girl for a long time

But baby, I like flirting, a lover by my side, can't be a good girl even if I tried

I kinda wanna kiss your girlfriend if you don't mind

I love a little drama, let's start a bar fight

Cause everything good happens after midnight

I kinda wanna kiss your boyfriend if you don't mind

You'd buy me a drink, and we know where that leads, so

I'll meet you for coffee 'cause if we have wine you'll say that you want me, I know that's a lie

If I didn't love you, it would be fine

Nowhere else is safe, every place leads back to your place

But I'd rather feel something than nothing at all

You'll say that you're sorry, I know that's a lie

If we do coffee, it's never just coffee

I've heard so many rumours that I'm just a girl that you bang on your couch

You said, "We're not together”, so now when we kiss, I have anger issues

We’re knee deep in the passenger seat and you're eating me out, is it casual now?

Is it casual now?

But baby, get me off again, if it's casual, it's casual now

Dumb love, I love being stupid

It's hard being casual when my favourite bra lives in your dresser

And I try to be the chill girl that holds her tongue and gives you space

I try to be the chill girl but honestly, I'm not

I fucked you in the bathroom when we went to dinner

Bragging to your friends I get off when you hit it, I hate to tell the truth but I'm sorry dude you didn't

I hate that I let this drag on so long, now I hate myself

I hate that I let this drag on so long, you can go to hell

You know what they say, "Never waste a Friday night on a first date"

He doesn't have what it takes to be with a girl like me

Not overdramatic, I know what I want

I'm through with all these hyper mega bummer boys like you

I need a super graphic ultra modern girl like me

Telling secrets there on the mattress, wearing nothing but glitter and lashes

At every party we're the party, shaking our asses, making out while the world collapses

Get up off your feet, get up on that bar

Walk that walk, flash the camera, you're a star

I could be the one or your new addiction

Who can blame a girl?

Call me hot, not pretty

Well, I woke up alone staring at my ceiling, I try not to care, but it hurts my feelings

You don't have to stare, come here, get with it

No one's touched me there in a damn hot minute

Who knew that we'd let it get this bad when it ended

It's hot when you have a meltdown

It's hot when you're drinking downtown and you're getting called out 'cause you're running your mouth

People say I'm jealous but my kink is watching you ruining your life

My kink is karma

Wishing you the best, in the worst way

It's hot when you're going through hell

And you're hating yourself, I'm feeling myself

And you're getting pissed off, it's getting me off

Slip off my pretty dress, down my chest when I think of you

Do you picture me like I picture you?

Do you feel the same? I'm too scared to say half of the things I do when I picture you

So tell me now, all your perversions

Am I doing research in a mini skirt?  Am I at the library in your hometown?

I guess we could pretend we didn't cross a line

If you really wanna leave, I’ll never make you stay

Whatever you decide, I will understand

And love is a kaleidoscope, how it works we'll never know

And even all the change is somehow all the same

Love is a kaleidoscope

And it'll just take time to go back to being friends

Every colour of the rainbow, don't be afraid to hold it close

I know you wanted me to stay, but I can't ignore the crazy visions of me in LA

And I heard that there's a special place where boys and girls can all be queens every single day

Won't make my mama proud, it’s gonna cause a scene

God, what have you done?  You're a pink pony girl and you dance at the club

Oh mama, I'm just having fun, on the stage in my heels it’s where I belong

I'm gonna keep on dancing down in West Hollywood

Lovers in the bathroom and a line outside the door

Every night's another reason why I left it all

I thank my wicked dreams, a year from Tennessee

Oh, Santa Monica you've been too good to me

Don't think I've left you all behind

Still love you and Tennessee, you're always on my mind

And mama, every Saturday, I can hear your southern drawl a thousand miles away

New crush, high school love again, the rush of slumber party kissing

I'd love if you knew you were on my mind

Boys suck and girls I've never tried

And we both know we're getting drunk tonight

Touch me, baby, put your lips on mine, could go to hell but we'll probably be fine

I know you want it, baby, you can have it, oh, I've never done it, let's make it cinematic

An inch away from more than just friends

Won't you fucking touch me?

I want more than you know

Cause I was never told that I wasn't gonna get the things I want the most

But people always say, "If it hasn't happened yet then maybe you should go”

Come get me out of California

To think I almost had it going but I let you down

Think back to what you said and I turn red

Wild thoughts that make me melt

Sometimes I scare myself but I can't help what I can't help

So shame on me and shame on you

I fantasize what we would do and how would he taste and the way you move

Oh, some good girls do bad things too

Oh my God, you are heaven-sent with your dirty mind, yeah, you're perverted

I want this like a cigarette

You give me guilty, guilty pleasure

Feels like pornography watching you try on jeans

You can say that we are nothing, but you know the truth

I don't wanna call it off but you don't wanna call it love

You can kiss a hundred boys in bars, shoot another shot, try to stop the feeling

You can say it's just the way you are, make a new excuse, another stupid reason

You'd have to stop the world just to stop the feeling

I'm cliche, who cares?

It's a sexually explicit kind of love affair

And I cry, it's not fair, I just need a little lovin', I just need a little air

Think I'm gonna call it off even if you call it love

I just wanna love someone who calls me baby

And when you wake up next to him in the middle of the night with your head in your hands, you're nothing more than his wife

And when you think about me, all of those years ago, you're standing face to face with "I told you so"

Good luck, babe!

[wrencatte]

there's a very specific type of water-related torture (There was a mythbusters episode abut it.) I've been meaning to subject a character to and Jason gets to be that lucky character! I just could never figure out the scenario and I didn't actually want him to be tortured by someone, just have it be unfortunate circumstances. Well...I've figure it out!!! Here, have the WIP i literally just started.

Jason opens his eyes to darkness. Which, yanno, is great, fantastic, abso-fucking-lutely the best thing ever. He groans and tries to sit up – finds himself unable to, something heavy pinning him to the ground. Oh. Okay. We’re doing this.

He wrenches one arm free and tries to leverage what has to be a concrete slab off of him. His glove slips and he nearly punches himself in the face. Wouldn’t hurt his face, but he’s seen what punching his helmet has done to other people’s hands so he’s very glad for that nearly. His other arm is trapped between his body and another piece of concrete. He wiggles his fingers, makes a pained noise as it sends spikes of pain up his arm. At least he can move them, yeah?

So. Trapped. Like…trapped-trapped. Great. The comm in his ear is nothing but static when not even – ten? Twenty? How long has it been? – who knows how long ago he remembers someone shouting HOOD. His helmet is dead, he can smell burnt electronics and the cushioning is starting to feel not great. Jason fiddles with the latch and takes it off, drops it from nerveless fingers.

It makes an echoing thunk and it’s like it shattered some barrier because suddenly Jason can hear everything. From the sirens outside to the shifting sound of the building settling to the sparking of severed wires to the dripdripdrip of broken pipes – one of them is dripping right on his face. He glares up into nothingness, as if the heat of his glare will be enough to weld the pipe close.

No such luck.

He’s trapped under a building. Jason squeezes his eyes shut. Fuck. He went through a lot of effort to minimize his reactions to various predicted triggers – crowbars, explosions, very specific laughter, just the general gamut – because he was not going to let his reactions get the better of him. And it worked! Maybe he gets a little shaky afterwards, like a delayed panic attack, but he’s never once frozen up when faced with red numbers flashing on a countdown. Hell, even when the Joker got to him last year and the Bats had to stage a rescue (really, how embarrassing) he managed to delay the fall out by a whole two days in order to clean up the mess the bastard left behind.

So, yeah. He’s got a great handle on this shit.

Doesn’t mean he likes being trapped like this. Who knows how stable this building is? Who knows what injuries he’s got under this concrete – because he can’t feel anything from the bottom of his ribcage down. He thinks he’s wiggling his toes, but he can’t tell for sure.

There’s a comfort, though, that he knows for a fact that someone is up there trying to get him out. He’d been with both Red Robin and Robin, providing cover fire from an adjacent building’s window…a building that wasn’t supposed to be blown up. In fact, he’s ninety-nine percent sure the voice shouting his name was Tim’s. He’s in good hands between the two of them and Oracle.

If this water would fucking stop – !

Jason grits his teeth and strains up again, huffing and puffing like a goddamn big bad wolf, and it does nothing to blow the house down. The concrete slab is twice as heavy compared to what he normally benches outside adrenaline, and he’s honestly surprised he wasn’t smashed to bits.

Another droplet hits his forehead. He flinches. It’s almost cold with how superheated he feels – like a fever but worse because there’s no relief. Hopefully it’s not actually a fever. That would monumentally fucking suck.

[inafieldofdaisies]

WIP Whenever | Tagged by @jacobsneed ; ty <3 | I'm not sure who has already done a WIP tag this week, but I'm tagging a few peeps, if I haven't mentioned you, absolutely consider this as an open tag!

Tag, you're it, @shegetsburned @nightwingshero @socially-awkward-skeleton @vampireninjabunnies-blog @strangefable @fourlittleseedlings @direwombat @euryalex @detectivelokis

I'm continuing with the crumbs from chapter 6. Enjoy some John - Savannah interactions. There are some serious scenes that take place inbetween and after, I feel like they would either end up in their own WIP post or you'd see them once the full chapter is posted <3

The town was quiet, more quiet than usual, as they drove past The Spread Eagle, its exterior looked like it had been through gunfire. Another sight, though, made Sabrina exclaim "Oh my god" outloud as the Sheriff's Department or what remained of it anyway came into view. It was burnt. Down to the ground. Her father's old Bronco was still in its parking spot where she left it, seemingly unharmed. One of the view lucky cars. She watched in horror as John said matter-of-factly, "The Reaping started." "Arson, John. The cabin, Savannah-" "Your house is fine, Deputy." "How can you be sure?" "Because it's my region.", his tone was full of assurance, but did very little to calm her nerves or make the minutes left until they reach Savannah fly by faster. By the time they got to the bent that connected the road to Ms. Darcy's property with the main one, her heart was in her throat as she anxiously chewed on her lip. John took the turn, glancing quickly at her before shifting his gaze back ahead, as he navigated the meandering path, "Stop worrying, Sabrina. We're almost there." The flag Ms. Darcy had by the fence came into view followed by their mail boxes, and as the truck came to a stop in the driveway, Sabrina battled the urge to rip the door open and rush straight at the cabin. She had one more thing to take care of before John barged into Savannah's life. "John-" "Deputy, whatever you're about to say-" "5 minutes. Give me 5 minutes to prepare her. You can stay outside of the door for all I care, just let me talk to her first before you show your face." John sighed, facing her fully, eyes narrowed. "Who's in charge here, exactly?"

"I know my sister. Trust me on that. Everything will go smoothly that way." "5 minutes.", he gritted out before slamming the door and striding off towards the front door, making Sabrina sprint after him to catch up. She made it to him just as he was climbing the steps to the cabin, almost slamming into his back as he came to an abrupt stop. "You're the most frustrating person I've ever met, you know?", Sabrina huffed. "I can say the same about you, Deputy.", he smirked and waved towards the door, "Go on in then, 5 minutes." She entered, rushing through each room , scanning for anything out of place, but the cabin was just as she had left it. Savannah was nowhere to be found on the first floor and she was about to check the second, thinking she might still be sleeping, when she passed by the bulletin board by the side door that Ms. Darcy used for leaving her notes when she watched her sister. A new post-it made her stop in her tracks.

Honey, I'm not sure what's happening, but we have no proper signal and I didn't dare leave Savannah alone to go into town to check the situation. If you return while I'm out - those goddamn Peggies came in while we were sleeping and vandalized my house, I'm going to check if they touched anything inside. I won't be long.

She had no idea when Ms. Darcy had written it but the fact John's people had come back worried her, it made her want to shout out Savannah's name, to locate her faster, to know she's alright. She took the stairs two at a time, making it on the second floor when she heard a gut wrenching scream followed by a crash coming from downstairs. It was her sister's voice, she had no doubt, but she had never heard her scream so loud in her life. "SAVANNAH.", Sabrina called out as she rushed back down the stairs, almost twisting her ankle in the process. She made it to the living room that connected directly to the main entry just in time to see Savannah grab a cup off the coffee table and hurl it at John while releasing another shriek. It missed him, crashing into the wall next to his head, shattering into pieces. Her little sister was frantically looking for something else to hurl while John stood unmoving by the door, his blue eyes frozen in shock. "Savannah. Hey, hey. I'm here." She turned at Sabrina's voice, a look of relief washing over her freckled face and in a flash she was throwing herself in her arms. Little hands almost squeezed the breath out of her, as Savannah mumbled, "Rin-Rin, I thought you had left me." Sabrina's eyes teared up as she kneeled down, hugging her sister back, inhaling her familiar scent, "Never, pumpkin. Never." She backed away a little, looking Savannah over, scanning for any injuries as she asked, "Are you okay?" "I'm alright, Deputy." Sabrina shot John an incredulous look, "I was talking to my sister, John." He raised his hands in defense, "Just letting you know." "We agreed to 5 minutes." Savannah's narrowed gaze shifted between the two of them in confusion, then she leaned in, whispering "Rin-Rin, that's the bad man from the TV." Here goes nothing. "John drove me here. He's come to pick something up, so you don't have to worry. I know why you threw the cup, but he's a, uh- guest and what do we do when we make a mistake?" Savannah turned to John, her green eyes still harboring suspicion about his presence, "I'm sorry, Mister. I thought you were a Peggie." He smiled, mischief reflected in his eyes as he addressed her sister, "It's okay." To Sabrina's surprise he then reached out a hand in greeting and Savannah grabbed it in hers reluctantly. "My name is John Seed." "Savannah Mae Donovan." "Nice to meet you, Miss Donovan. You did well protecting the house." A man with many masks. Sabrina tried to remind herself to not fall for his act, wishing she could say she didn't melt a little at the interaction. Her sister smiled shyly before dropping his hand. She seemed calmer as she plopped down on the couch, rubbing her eyes, sleepiness still lingering in them. She was in her favorite rainbow pajamas and her auburn hair was braided, something she loved doing and was getting quite good at. Her curious gaze remained trained on John, who in return seemed glued to the spot as he took in their home. "Sav, did you have breakfast?" When she nodded in response, Sabrina's attention shifted to their "guest" before she headed for the kitchen, set on grabbing something to eat herself. "You can come in further, you know. But shoes off, Seed." John looked just as shellshocked as she felt in his room for confessions, and at her words he finally snapped out of whatever stupor he had fallen in, removing his boots with a huff and placing them by hers at the entrance. With a few strides, he made it through the living room, following her into the kitchen. Sabrina was tearing into a chocolate muffin Ms. Darcy had made, when he came behind her. Lowering his voice he said, "I can see the resemblance already, Deputy. Though I must say, your sister has far better aim." "You're pushing your luck." "I'm not worried." "I will have you know I've been throwing knives since I was 15,", she nodded towards the knife block at the counter, "keep talking and you would find out my actual aim."

[redacted paragraphs because of spoilers for upcoming scene :D]

Sabrina hurried downstairs, her sister's laughter greeting her as it carried over from the living room. They're talking. She stood in the doorway, using the moment of not being noticed as an opportunity to observe their interaction. Savannah had changed into a T-shirt and ripped jeans and was sitting crossed-legged on the couch while John was on the floor rummaging through a box of her notebooks. He seemed back to normal, his eyes shinning mischievously as he explained the difference between a helicopter and a plane to her sister. "Rin-Rin!", she rushed over, dragging Sabrina by the hand as she spoke, "Do you know that John has a plane? A PLANE. He promised to show it to me one day!" "Is that so?", she sat down on the couch, with Savannah next to her and she immediately started playing with her hair. "Oh my gosh, are you hurt?", her sister exclaimed. Sabrina remembered the wound on her head and was glad she had taken a shower and washed away the blood from her strands. "No, no, I'm fine, Sav, it's just a bump." "Oh, okay." John remained silent as he watched them both from his spot. Sabrina looked at her watch, it was getting past noon. "I'm going to go make lunch. You wanna help, pumpkin?" Savannah clapped her hands, then pointed at John, "See! She lets me cook, I told you, John." He shot her a smile, "A girl of many talents." How can he just switch personalities like this… "Come now.", Sabrina got up, heading to the kitchen and opening the fridge, "What are we making today, Chef Donovan?" Her sister loved pretending they're on a cooking show, coming up with comments and making goofy faces at an imaginary audience. This time they had one. John. "Ooooh, can we do the omelettes from last week? Ms. Darcy promised we'd make them today, but she left…", she drifted off. "When did she leave? I saw the note." "Yesterday, before lunch, I think. Is she okay, Rin-Rin?" "I-I'm sure she's alright, pumpkin, probably had some things to take care off." Sabrina recalled John's words about the Reaping starting and how the Sheriff's Department looked. She looked over to the living room, trying to read his face, checking for anything that would hint he knew what had happened, fearing he might have something to do with Ms. Darcy's absence, he was the one after her land after all. All she got was a raised eyebrow, "Anything to ask, Deputy?" "No." Not right now. She tried to distract herself as they prepared the food, passing veggies to Savannah to wash before Sabrina got to chopping them, then making the omelettes and letting her sister flip them. Her sister's bubbly energy was what kept her going, lifting her spirits. John had moved to the couch as he  went through notebooks, a growing pile of checked ones forming by the time the meal was ready and the table set. Savannah barreled back into the living room, buzzing with energy as she stood over John who was too engrossed into reading to notice her. "John?" "Yes?" Savannah let out a giggle, "Rin-Rin, he said it just like on TV.", then she turned back to John, "Lunch is ready."

Before he could even respond, she had grabbed his hand, pulling him to his feet and dragging him toward the kitchen. "Sav. You have to ask first, he might not be hungry." Her sister shot her a smile, "Oh, please, I could hear his stomach making funny noises before.", she pointed to the chair next to Sabrina's, "sit." John laughed, following her orders, turning to Sabrina, whispering, "She's basically a mini you, Deputy." "You don't have to eat the food, if you don't want to." "Why? Savi here promised it's delicious." He has freaking nicknamed my sister already?!" Savannah plopped down into a chair across them, "Rin-Rin is the best cook, she bakes even better. She even makes my Birthday cakes!" At this comment John raised an eyebrow in interest while cutting into his omelette methodically. Her sister kept on chatting away like she usually did, seeming so at ease, like she had known him for ages. Sabrina sat there, trying to process the last God knows how many hours, still unable to believe she was sitting across from her sister, that her plan had worked in a way. Until he marches us both back to his bunker. She wasn't going to let that happen. The time flew by, their plates empty, even John's. Sabrina couldn't imagine someone telling her few days back that she'd be sitting at the same table with John Seed let alone that she would have cooked for him. "Thank you for the lunch, Deputy.", he said as she was washing the dishes. "You're welcome." Savannah laughed, "You say Deputy funny." "Sav, don't be rude.", Sabrina said at the same time as John asked, "I do?" Savannah nodded, "Yeah, it's cute. Depuuuteee", her sister tried to imitate John's tone and intonation, making him laugh in response. "Hm, that was good, I don't think even my brothers would be able to tell the difference." "You have brothers?" Before he could reply, Sabrina spoke up, "Why don't you go bring your drawings to show to John?" With Savannah out of the kitchen, she turned to John, "I, uh, have to ask. Please don't mention the Project to her." "Why, Deputy?" "Your people coming around here terrify her, same for your broadcasts, they used to play during her shows and freak her out." "And this is why she screamed and tried to knock me out?" "Your face is kind of hard to forget." "Was that a compliment, Deputy?" Sabrina rolled her eyes, "You wish. But seriously, thank you for talking to her like a normal person." He raised an eyebrow. "What? All I'm saying is, you're doing good at Sinner-free talk." And he was excelling at it. An absolute chameleon, switching from one role to the next. Giving her a whiplash. Probably would give her own mother a run for her money. If Candice was there, she'd tell her daughter to keep her distance. Or maybe to rob him for all he's worth first. Savannah returned, sitting in Sabrina's chair and placing her drawings in front of John. As Sabrina cleaned up, the two of them chatted about her sister's art before he returned back to the notebooks.

[redacted paragraph because of spoilers for upcoming scene :D]

The afternoon passed in a blur with no news from Ms. Darcy, while John stayed glued to the notes, from time to time taking a break when her sister would address him. The time for dinner came too, Savannah kept the conversation going, eventually going back to asking questions about John's plane. Sabrina sat there, pushing her food around her plate, her appetite gone, she was absolutely exhausted and emotionally drained. "You okay, Rin-Rin?" "Yeah, pumpkin. I just need sleep, that's all.", she forced a smile. Savannah yawned, "You're gonna tuck me in, right?" "Of course, Sav, as always." Her sister got up, stopping at John's seat, shocking both him and Sabrina when she hugged him, "Good night, John.", and she added as a loud whisper, "You're not so scary after all." Before John could reply anything, she was out of the room and running up the stairs, headed to get ready for bed. John looked taken aback, a strange expression on his face when Sabrina said, "I'm sorry, she's very direct and-" He waved her off, "I'm unharmed, Deputy. And you've done well. Raising her."