#also kinda drawn watching the chase he was manifested

[jubileedeeznuts-posting]

a dream left unfulfilled

he really would make a good forensic scientist i say to my mum drawing him holding something vaguely science looking because i know nothing about forensics

[itwillbeall-dwight]

amicability

adam francis/rin yamaoka | the spirit; canon typical violence warning; 3488 words

a/n: i don't know how I'm gonna format these kinda posts on here, since i know that Tumblr really loves to suppress tags and i haven’t formatted a full fic in a post in literal years, so if this looks a bit wonky, i apologise. anyways, hi i bring the rinadam goods that we as a community all love and deserve. this man has a ghost wife thank you very much. ALSO if anyone ever wants to suggest fics for me (more rinadam, or maybe even for some of my other ships if you care to ask, wink wink), feel free! my askbox is open.

likes < reblogs, any comments in the tags are appreciated

ao3 mirror in the reblogs! 

Preview: Looking up, he saw the mangled form of the Spirit staring down at him, having found him once more, her weapon drawn. Her looming presence over him made him sick... his eyes fell on the hatch by her feet. As he crawled closer to it, she was going to close it, watch the hope drain from his face and relish in it before slamming his shoulder through a hook and feeding him to the master she served so diligently, with all her rage and hatred.

The third and final scream echoed throughout the empty temple, as the former teacher pressed his back against the cold wall, clutching his side where warm blood stained his clothes and his hands. The soft rumbling of the generator beside him brought him some form of comfort, but not much - now Adam was in this trial alone, injured, with a very angry Spirit ready to sniff him out and strike him down, as she had done with the rest of his friends.

With his heart beating loud in his ears, Adam kept himself low to the ground, suppressing winces and groans of pain as best he could as he climbed out of the temple’s lower floor, and to the stairs outside. He pressed a hand against the wall for support, grabbing it hard to pull himself to his full height. He still ended up slumped over due to his injuries. He could see the gate from here... and no Spirit. Gritting his teeth and gripping his side, he took that as his cue to get going, quickly stepping down the temple’s stairs and stumbling on the damp earth beneath his feet, where the constant, miserable drizzle of rain left the ground of mud and leaves slick and dangerous. He took his time, but not too much, crouching around a wall and practically crawling around it, pressing his shoulder against the wood of it for support. The gate was in sight now. Adam took a moment to gather his breath, swallowing his inhibitions as he rose to his feet, stumbling towards the gate and reaching out to grab at the handle—

A loud scream from nearby made his head snap up, looking at the petite yet fierce form of the Spirit some distance away. She manifested her blade into her hand and screamed again, the fingers on her free hand almost snapping into a claw-like motion before she took off into a rage-fueled sprint, running for him. Slipping and stumbling for a moment on the wet forest floor beneath him, adrenaline began to kick in as Adam ran as fast as he could away from her. He heard the slashes of her blade, feeling the wind against his back from each slice as she got closer and closer, the familiar and trademark snapping and shattering coming from her twitching form echoing in his ears - the noise had haunted him the entire trial. 

She gave another ear-piercing scream as he vaulted over the wall, barely missing him again and hitting the edge of the window instead. His fingers slipped a little on the slick, mossy stone and he took a slight stumble on the other side, but he still carried on, running forward and ducking around another wall. His chest was heaving, a tight, twisting pain from his open wounds and running so far, pressing his back against the cold wall, as if that would help. There was next to no time to catch his breath, though, hearing that same damn cracking of the Spirits movements getting closer and closer, sniffing him out like a bloodhound. He looked around for a moment, the chipped red paint of the locker beside him catching his eye quickly - now this wasn’t a hard choice, limping towards the locker and quickly shutting the door - this was a last ditch effort or bust.

Watching with wide eyes, Adam saw through the small slits in the locker as she reached the wall where he once had been, beginning to pace back and forth in search of her final sacrifice. He began gripping harder to his side in a tense impulse and cursing himself as a surge of pain coursed through him. He listened to her strained, tired breaths, the way her limbs shifted and moved with each turn she made - for a moment, it was almost as if they locked eyes as she stared right at the locker, making his breath catch in his throat. But the Spirit did nothing further, grunting in frustration as she looked away, bare feet hitting the dirt as she went to look elsewhere. The teacher let out a quiet, shaky sigh, releasing the breath he had been holding and pressing his forehead against the locker door, before looking up again to check if the coast was clear.

And that’s when he saw it.

Right in front of him, as if luck itself had reached down and placed it there - a rusted, metal hatch, shadows gathering at its mouth as if they were reaching up and trying to grab a slice of heaven. His heart began beating faster just as he’d begun to calm down - was this it, could he have a chance, against all odds? Allowing himself to shakily laugh, Adam let go of the locker’s door handle and slowly pushed it open, careful to avoid any creaks the old hinges may have let out, stepping out with one foot first - pausing to check for noise - and then the other-

Sudden pain surged through his ankle as he pressed weight onto it, and without thinking Adam stumbled forwards, losing his footing rather quickly on the dirt and slipping onto his back, the wind being knocked out of him and leaving him gasping for air for a moment.  He rolled onto his side, the light drizzle of rain hitting his face now, as if to mock him as he lay there for a moment, trying to steady his breathing to stop himself from making any noise. He must have sprained his ankle in the chase - he wouldn’t have noticed in the rush, with the adrenaline pumping through his veins, keeping him alive. Gritting his teeth, Adam looked back up at the hatch, only a short distance away now. His only thought was to get to it. Get out before the Spirit could find him again. Moving his hand from his injured side, he made no effort to get up in his desperation, instead dragging himself across the mud, listening to the ambience from the hatch’s shadows and the way the rain hit the open, metal cover, as he got closer and closer.

And that’s when he heard it again. Light footsteps and the snapping of glass. Adam cursed himself, knowing it was too lucky to be more than an illusion of an escape, and anything else but a sick trick.

Looking up, he saw the mangled form of the Spirit staring down at him, having found him once more, her weapon drawn. Her looming presence over him made him sick... his eyes fell on the hatch by her feet. As he crawled closer to it, she was going to close it, watch the hope drain from his face and relish in it before slamming his shoulder through a hook and feeding him to the master she served so diligently, with all her rage and hatred.

“You... you won.” There was defeat in his voice - he knew there was no way, as he bled out on the wet floor of the forest just outside some accursed temple. He’d wake up by the campfire and start this all over again anyways, what did it matter? Adam’s head fell, expecting to hear the slam of metal, followed by the way the girl so terrible crackled and snapped, like broken glass, with every movement she made. But there was nothing.

All she gave him was a small noise - was that a whimper? - of... almost pity. He looked up at her again now; as she stared down at him with a... softer expression. The rage within her had subsided, if only momentarily, leaving her face soft and solemn as she gazed down at him. The light cracking of her movements and the shifting of her enfeebled limbs was the loudest of the noises she made, though from this distance he could hear her laboured, struggling breaths. 

“W...what are you...?” He wasn’t sure if she was sizing up her kill, or simply waiting for him to bleed out as she stared him down, but in a blood loss-induced delirium, Adam would swear up and down she looked... sad. The blade in her hand blinked away, from the serrated blade to its wrapped hilt, with a flick of a loose, pale wrist, leaving her stood there for a moment, arms at her side.

“...Free...” It was a struggle for her to speak, but the kanji she spoke almost took him by surprise - of course, looking at her this close, she was clearly of Asian descent, so the Japanese that came from her wasn’t the surprise he was taken aback by. It was moreso that he could still remember some himself to translate it, given how long he’d existed within the torturous realm by now.

Before he could ask her to elaborate, the Spirit turned her back on him, and slowly began shuffling away, her bare feet leaving a disgusting mud trail underneath her... leaving Adam alone to crawl to the hatch, and fall into an abyss of safety. 

~

Coming back around at the campfire, there was a loud pounding in his head and a throbbing in his side, being prodded at and touched. A wet surface touched against it, leaving him to wince at the sting of the antiseptic.

“Hey, hey, it’s OK, you’re safe, Mr. Francis.” Claudette’s voice remained calm above him, as she placed a hand under his head where a log had once been, leaving Adam to open his eyes and look up at her.

“I-I’m sorry-”

“Hey, no. You made it out, and that’s more than enough.” She smiled softly, always ready to put anyone’s anxieties at ease, going back to the med kit by her side for a moment. Adam remembered seeing her at the beginning of the trial; she was the first to be sacrificed on the hook. And yet, she didn’t hold any grudges - she never did. Claudette looked up again, as a shadow was cast over them, kneeling down. “Oh, Ace, give me a hand?”

There was a quiet grumble, as Adam shifted his gaze to look at the gambler who was taking the gauze from Claudette. He’d been the second sacrifice in the trial - if there was one thing that Ace was good at, it was being a distraction and a runaround. With his sunglasses falling down his nose from looking down, Adam could see him look up at him, their eyes locking. “No apologies for me, eh?”

“...You did great, Visconti. Sorry-”

“Ah, no need to apologize- selfless hero, I am, don’t you know.” He waved an arm of dismissal before the teacher could even finish his sentence, satisfied enough to get him to grin in his trademark, punchable-face way, passing the roll of gauze back to Claudette again, making Adam roll his eyes and laugh, though only momentarily, sucking air in again from his open wound.

That only left Kate, the last member of the trial, to be seen. Claudette said she was talking to Dwight about something, last time she’d seen them - probably going on another patrol of the fog, as was customary after every trial. They’d been working on the generator in the lower floor of the temple together, but she’d left him there to run the Spirit around again, just to make sure they got it up to speed - ‘gotta take every window of opportunity with open arms’, she’d said, in her gentle Southern drawl, with her usual warm smile for comfort. And he had been comforted, up until he heard her screams of pain from across the complex, just as he connected the wires and brought that final generator to life.

It didn’t take long for him to be patched up, enough to let him sit up, at the very least. He exchanged a few more words with both Ace and Claudette, the former going off to bother the old soldier Bill as soon as he spotted him, and the latter having to stop yet another fight between David and Meg that had become customary to the campfire as of recently. After being given an apologetic look by the botanist before she stood to her feet (her polite pleading contrasting to Detective Tapp who followed in her wake, his tone of voice commanding and his grip firm as pushed the two hot-headed young individuals away from each other), Adam found himself restless, sighing to himself as he looked around, the horizon around them obscured by fog and trees, just as it always had been. For some reason, though, he now felt eyes in the back of his head from the fog, something watching him from afar… it made his skin crawl. He thought back for a moment to the trial, and the way the Spirit stared down at him on the floor… and how similar this paranoid feeling made him feel. Gripping onto the log he sat by with one hand, and holding onto his injured side with the other, Adam pushed himself to his feet, and turned back to the wide outstretch of forest, before slowly - and against any better judgement he had - walking into the clearing.

That wasn’t any understatement, either - from what little they knew of the realm they were all residing in, going out there alone was almost guaranteed to get you hurt, or perhaps even killed, if that was even still possible. Wails and scraping metal had been heard through the trees, and it had been hypothesised that the killers who stalked their paths in every trial were occupying the very same woods, just outside of their own safe haven at the campfire. Of course, this paranoid drivel from Dwight had been mocked by some, but being out here alone, now Adam could understand. There was no wind, and yet, some of the leaves still moved, quiet whispers through the scenery around him bringing him no form of comfort. He gave a hard swallow, choosing to push through and continue - what was he hoping to find here, exactly? Had he hit his head in that trial, unknown to him, making him act out irrationally and possibly run into the face of danger? 

That same feeling of a  burning gaze came back twofold, even closer this time, causing Adam to bring his head up and look around. Among the same, silent trees, and the rolling fog in the distance, the gentle whispers (being the only noise made, he now noted - just how far had he wandered out here?) focused onto one sad, familiar form. A floating hand supported her against the tree she stood close to, watching him with her eyes of bright white voids. On instinct, he took a couple of steps away. She didn’t move. And once again, just like the trial before them, time seemed to almost slow in the silence that followed, the light shifting and crackling coming from the Spirit being the only thing to cut it. At least initially.

Adam watched as she moved again, opening her mouth to take a breath, before she spoke - her voice was strained from screaming, as often as she did in the trials. “You are… safe.”

He paused. “I… yes. Thanks to you.”

She seemed to smile slightly at that… strangely enough, it fit her face well, he noted to himself. “I… saved you.”

“...By letting me leave, yes.”

The Spirit stopped for a moment, looking down at her hand that had remained at her side until now, observing the large shard of glass pierced into her flesh. “You are… lost. Not safe here.”

“I-I am, yes. Are your… friends… nearby?”

“Yes.”

He swallowed hard, once again looking around in the open forest and fog that had surrounded the two of them. As he seemed to look around on alert, she continued.

“But it’s not… them. They are… bad people, but now, they are calm. It’s… this.” She lifted a hand to gesture all around herself, making him raise an eyebrow.

“The forest?”

“The fog,” she corrected, pausing to take a breath - from this interaction, it was plain to see that she wasn’t used to speaking so calmly, or perhaps even speaking at all. “Is hungry.”

“What?”

She looked at his confused face, shaking her head. “Not enough time. You… need to go back. I can... help you. If you would like.”

Adam watched as The Spirit held out her hand - for a moment holding out the wrong one, where glass remained and dried blood stained her palm, before pulling it back again - for him to take. He looked down at it, pondering for a moment what to do, before, against his better judgement, he extended his arm, and took her offer.

Her hand was so cold and dead against his skin, enough to make him jolt a little on contact, surprising the Spirit just as much as he recoiled away slightly. Adam let out a nervous laugh, unsure how long the rage he had seen her front more often than not would be subsided, before taking her cold hand once more. Her long, slender fingers curled around his hand, and, after seeming to gaze at the sky for a moment or two, she began to lead him through the trees that all looked the same, along a path that had not been walked. For a moment, Adam considered she was simply leading him away to kill him - perhaps to her fellow killers to let them join in on the fun. But as he was led along, looking at the softness of her features and the sadness in her eyes… he was almost sure that, right now at least, she wasn’t capable of such rancour.

They walked on and on through the trees, not a word between them, with Adam focusing on the sounds of broken glass that followed her as she walked, staring down at their conjoined hands while remaining aware of his surroundings enough to move around the fauna around them. The path seemed endless, but being lost in his thoughts meant that perhaps his sense of time became warped.

“What’s your name?”

The question from the girl came suddenly, cutting through the silence with her quiet voice, enough to make him look up and answer without thinking - as if he was talking to a friendly stranger, and not someone who very easily could - and had done so in the past - end his life. “...Adam.”

“Adam…” she repeated, not looking back at him. “Your name… is nice.”

He paused. “Do you… have a name?”

There wasn’t a response for a second or two, as she seemed to ponder the question. “I was… Rin.”

The notion of ‘was’ troubled him, combined with the need to actively think about the question. He disregarded it for the moment, as he replied; “Your name is nice as well.”

From this angle just behind her, he could swear that she smiled sadly. Adam chose not to press it further, continuing with another question - this may well have been the only chance to ask it, after all. A form of closure for himself, and perhaps information for his friends.

“You could have easily killed me, by the hatch. Why didn’t you?”

Her sad smile fell, face blank. “I… I don’t know. It’s odd… I think… we were similar, when you were like that.”

“Similar? What do you mean?”

The Spirit - Rin - shook her head now, dismissing the conversation, to which Adam complied, not wanting to bring forth the rage that she was known for among the people she and her ilk tormented. But it did not stop himself from thinking; about the person that Rin had once been, and how similar they really had to have been, in that moment. He thought about this as no more words were said.

When the light sound of idle chatter in the distance became noticeable, he looked up in its direction and pulled his hand away, enough to make the Spirit stop and look up at him. Adam listened to the white noise for a moment, never more glad to hear it, before looking back to what he once considered to be a threat.

“I… do not understand what you’re doing, but… thank you.”

Her smile was weak and strained, taking in air to prepare herself to speak again. “I cannot… follow. Be safe.” Rin looked up at him with her blank, sad looking eyes again, before passing by him again, no wind in particular following after her, some of her long hair brushing against his neck and face as she paused.

Adam watched her leave, watched her be taken into the fog that had seemed to follow them, thinking back to her warnings of her fellow killers not being the biggest danger in this realm - at least, not right now.

A loud, piercing, familiar screaming (not angry though - it was pained, straining) some distance away prompted him to swiftly return to the campfire now, as the fog slowly continued to roll in. 

[penciltopbear]

OKAY I’ve been thinking about Tasky and tma stuff even though I’m not caught up at all and I’ve come to the conclusion that Taskmaster is SUPER hard to pin down entity-wise so I’ve compiled my thoughts for and against each entity. Disclaimer that despite this being all I ever talk about I am by no means an expert on either tma or Taskmaster and will probably misremember a lot of stuff so please feel free to tell me what you think! Also I’m gonna be taking some of these points from @lhassinu so hi :)

Under a cut because I have a lot of thoughts

These aren’t ordered based on compatability or whatever it’s just based on what order the wiki has them 

The Buried 

For: He has a fear of drowning, one that was fairly pervasive in his childhood

Against: While he does have a fear of drowning, it’s not an overwhelming fear, especially since he has taken specific measures to minimize that fear so that it isn’t an issue. He doesn’t have any other fears associated with the buried, nor any financial issues, and I mean. Let’s be real here. Buried would be the lamest entity to go with. The man kills people for a living and wears a cool cape and you want to go with the fear named Too Close I Cannot Breathe? Lame. Moving on.

The Corruption

For: There really isn’t much in the way of support for this one. The closest you can really get is that he seems to have a general aversion to rot and decay, but nothing beyond a normal reaction. You could maybe spin something out of his best friend hanging around ants, but that’s a stretch. 

Against: Like I said, not much for it in the first place. Aside from a lack of strong fear towards most of the Corruption’s manifestations, he also doesn’t have the need for love that people like Jane Prentiss had; there’s no way that something like what happened in Love Bombing would happen to him. In fact, he actively betrays most of his friends and doesn’t get especially attached to anything or anyone.

The Dark

For: Some parallels can be drawn between the Dark and the Abyss, namely the whole cult thing, and Tasky seemed vulnerable to the Abyss, so there’s some evidence that would suggest that he would align himself with the Dark/The People’s Church. There’s also the fact that, given his line of work, darkness can be incredibly advantageous for stealth missions.

Against: While there’s some support for aligning with the Dark out of love or something similar, there’s little in the way of fear. A big part of the Dark is the unknown, what can be lurking beyond, but Taskmaster just would not give a shit. He’s far too confident in his abilities to have anything more than mild caution.

The Desolation

For: Tasky has no aversion towards destroying people’s lives if it means making a quick buck, and he has definitely set fire to quite a few things.

Against: Despite that, however, he doesn’t necessarily enjoy doing those things. It’s more of a means to an end, that end being money, and it would take quite a bit of provocation before he would take the initiative and do it for free. The Desolation, much like the Corruption, also tends to pull in people with a need for companionship, people who want to be a part of something, which Tasky just doesn’t care about. Plus, while he’s not afraid of setting fire to things, it’s not a common enough occurence to really warrant devoting himself to a cult about it, ya know?

The End

For: There are a few obvious ties, namely the fact that he does kill people a lot and he utilizes imagery closely tied to the End in the way of his Skull mask. He also has a fear of dying, at least to a small extent. After all, you can’t really be a mercenary without a healthy fear of death. It’s possible that, if he were to die, he would choose to serve the End rather than go quietly.

Against: That being said, he’s also far too cocky to really be afraid of dying, at least enough for him to turn to the end while he’s still kicking. And, again, he doesn’t kill for pleasure often, it’s just a job. 

The Eye

For: This one works really well in the context of Unthinkable. I tend to ignore Unthinkable for reasons I’ve gone over in the past and don’t care enough to talk about right now, but it definitely plays into the whole “need to know even if it could destroy you” thing. Aside from that, there is also his drive to constantly be acquiring new skills, and he keeps records of different fighting styles on tapes. In a way, he’s sort of like the Archivist, but instead of cataloging fear, he catalogs actions and behaviors. 

Against: This man hasn’t stepped foot in a library since middle school and he can’t remember shit. Whether or not he knows how to read is questionable

The Flesh

For: There’s really not much here. If you’re reaching, you might be able to make something out of him being something of a butcher, but you can’t get anything super concrete. 

Against: Piles of meat is just sort of part of the job, he’s not gonna be bothered by it much. Plus, he’s seen so many weird people in his line of work that he’s not gonna bat an eye at someone like Jared Hopworth, no matter how grotesque their body may be. 

The Hunt

For: The Hunt was the first entity I thought of while trying to pin him down. A big part of the Hunt is how easily it can take a hold of people. As soon as they are exposed to hunting, whether it be monsters or people, there’s a chance of it taking hold. In that sense, the Hunt is somewhat of a hazard in Tasky’s line of work, so it wouldn’t be a stretch for him to be aligned with it at some point. Plus, I think that Taskmaster with a wolf skull mask would be a really neat aesthetic. 

Against: I know I’ve brought this up a lot, and I’m gonna keep bringing it up, but killing isn’t something Taskmaster does for sport, it’s a job. He doesn’t necessarily derive joy from the chase, and if he isn’t going to keep it up if he doesn’t have a reason. If the money runs dry, he’s not gonna keep going. In a story, it would take a bit of build up for the Hunt to really work, but that’s not to say that it can’t work at all. 

The Lonely

For: Tasky tends to work alone a good bit of the time. Every time someone does get close, he ends up betraying them in one way or another.

Against: He has been shown to care about his friends, and does feel bad about betraying them. He also has been shown to be effective when working with others, possibly even more effective than when he’s alone. Being a mercenary, being completely cut off from society is impossible, since good networking is crucial to getting jobs. Plus, his abilities rely on him being around other people. All of that put together prevents him from willingly cutting himself off like Peter Lukas. He doesn’t have a fear nor a love of being alone, thus stopping the Lonely from really taking hold. That being said, it’s not necessarily impossible. Much like the Hunt, if you really develop the idea it could make for a really neat story, but it won’t work well in the current state of his character. 

Oh holy shit there are a lot of these

The Slaughter

For: He kills people bro

Against: The Slaughter is founded around unpredictable, unmotivated violence, which Taskmaster just does not do. Whenever he kills someone, it’s either because he was paid to or because someone really pissed him off that much. You could make the argument that from the victims end it seems unpredictable, but if they’re watching their actions and how they affect people it really isn’t. People aren’t gonna hire mercenaries to kill you for no reason, even if that reason is just “they have money and I want that money”. He also isn’t afraid of violence against him, he knows the dangers of being a mercenary and is prepared to deal with them. He also has no strong ties to war or music, at least when it comes to violence.

The Spiral

For: This is another one that I think is good in the context of Unthinkable. Throughout that entire run people are actively lying to him, and memory issues can definitely mess with your perception of the world to the point of thinking that things are wrong. He also does lie and betray others quite frequently.

Against: He doesn’t really tend to doubt himself, nor does he suffer from any hallucinations or mental illness that would alter his perception of the world, and his lies are often more short-term deceptions in order to gain the other hand as opposed to gaslighting someone or making them question everything they know. 

The Stranger

For: Again, this can work well with Unthinkable. His sense of self gets entirely screwed up by his memory issues. Outside of that, masks are closely tied to the Stranger and his mask is one of his most recognizable features, and it’s definitely one that can invoke an uncanny valley sense. He also has the ability to quickly change his mannerisms, which I personally think could fit quite well with the Stranger,

Against: He doesn’t have strong ties with most things commonly associated with the Stranger, namely the circus and mannequins and taxidermy. He doesn’t have a strong fear of the unknown and unfamiliar, if anything it’s just another thing to be understood and for him to learn from. He doesn’t show intense paranoia, no sense that things are wrong, and I doubt that he would feel any fear of things associated with the Stranger beyond “haha that’s kinda creepy”. 

The Vast

For: There’s not really much in defense of this one. 

Against: He’s too full of himself to worry about his own insignificance or whatever. His only fears relating to wide open spaces would be drowning, but that’s a Buried fear and not Vast. 

The Web

For: This is another one that I think shares a lot of similarities with the Abyss, namely being controlled. He has been manipulated multiple times in the comics, with one example that I can think of off the top of my head being when he worked for AIM in Secret Avengers. He strikes me as someone who could definitely be one of the Web’s puppets.

Against: I don’t necessarily think that he’s afraid of being controlled or manipulated. After the whole Abyss thing, he honestly seemed unfazed by the whole ordeal. He likely thinks himself too smart for it to be really an issue. He also isn’t afraid of spiders, so that can’t be used as a jumping-off point, so to speak, unlike Annabelle Cane. 

I’m not doing the Extinction because 14 was enough. 

So, based on all of that, it seems like the Eye is the best fit without changing any characterization, with a few others having the ability to work with a little bit of storytelling. BUT there’s also the possibility that he serves none of them. There are plenty of people in tma that don’t serve an entity but still profit from their existence, like Mikaele Salesa. I could definitely see Taskmaster sort of staying on the fringes of the whole thing, taking jobs to kill monsters and retrieve artifacts as he pleases and ignoring whatever the fuck Elias has going on. 

IN CONCLUSION this was a really horrible idea and I should not have put this much time and thought into this. Anyway I am tired and refuse to read any of this over again so if I got something wrong feel free to tell me so and I would love to hear everyone’s thoughts :)

[plus-size-reader]

Grief Stricken pt.2

Jeremiah Valeska x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 1490 words

Warnings:none 

Summary: Jeremiah is finding his way around with Jerome’s ex, who kinda hates him. 

Part 1

———————————————————————————————————

Jeremiah smiled at the question, his eyes practically lighting up. What would he have you do? There could be a million answers, but he knew he had to take it slow with you.

You were like a porcelain doll; weak, damaged, and searching for any sort of relief from the suffering and he could give you that if you really wanted it. All he had to do was get you to see that his way was the best way, and it wouldn't take long.

You twitched slightly with each passing second of silence. The ceaseless rapping of the trigger was deafening by the time Jeremiah thought to stop you, and it was clear then that everything you'd been feeling was manifesting in acute insanity.

Jeremiah knew he couldn't let that happen.

Ecco was losing her grip on reality, and everything that came out of her mouth was dredging together in a never ending spout of word vomit. It worked for her, but something told Jeremiah that you wouldn't be nearly as fun that way.

If there was one thing Jeremiah was sure of, it was that his brother was clinically and certifiably insane, and someone had to be the brains of his little operation. If he was going to put money on it, he was sure that you'd had something to do about it.

"Tell me, the heists? Who planned them? There was no way my brother did that all alone huh pet?" He asked, tapping his finger lightly on the desk in front of you to get your attention.

You were smart, and articulate for the most part, your mind was just hazy from lose, or was that what you wanted him to think? He couldn't say he understood the sentiment but he had some kind of empathy for you, because you were still sitting across from him.

It took a second for you to think through your answer. You and Jerome had planned a lot of your little outings together, just doing what seemed fun in the moment but as far as logistics went, you were in charge.

That was just the way it was.

The last thing you wanted was for Jerome to be captured and locked away from you so you were willing to break a few laws to keep him safe. "I did, but I have a feeling you already knew that...didn’t you?" you asked, rambling slightly, it was a sort of innocent stumble that brought a smile to Jeremiah's face.

You were cute, and even if it wasn't going to benefit him in the end, Jeremiah had decided that he was going to keep you for his own. There was just something about you that had drawn him in, and wasn't going to let him go.

Part of what had captivated him so fully was you, and the fact that he was pretty sure that you were manipulating him. You were doing a good job of it so far, but he could see through you a little bit, just enough to get .

"You're burdened by grief, you poor little thing...it's painful to watch" he admitted, only smiling lightly at the end. He was teasing you, but there was a mutual deception that was working for you both.

Jeremiah thought that you were entertaining, like a cat chasing after a mouse. You remained reserved and cold, all while silently begging to be held close and loved like there's no tomorrow. It was a deadly sort of loved that you couldn't stop, and with each passing moment, he understood why his brother loved you.

What was a man to do?

"Don't talk down to me Jeremiah, I'm not a child-I still have a gun remember" You waved the weapon around lightly, as if proving a point that you still had it in hand. It was clear now that you were past wanting to kill him, but the idea of you holding the firearm still brought a smile to his face.

You had so much potential to be a killer, and a villain of grand scale, all you had to do was let him mold you into one. You were a beautiful, deadly protege and there was no way Jeremiah was going to let that opportunity go out the window.

Now, Jeremiah never really thought about the feelings he had for Ecco because she was more of a lackey at best, something he used for entertainment when he was bored but there was something darker to you that he couldn't shake.

You were just as mad as he, and somehow you managed to contain it perfectly. Perhaps it was the death of your lover that buried the sickness for a moment, but Jeremiah had gotten a glimpse of it and there was no letting it go.

"Of course pet, I wouldn’t dream of it" he grinned, clearly kidding as he stood from behind his desk. You watched him turn across the front, grabbing a glass of wine for himself but making sure to get one for you as well.

You weren’t much of a drinker but being around Jeremiah and all the things that happened with Jerome in the past had pushed you to need something. If you were going to do it, one drink wasn’t going to cut it so as Jeremiah sipped from his glass, you took the bottle and tipped it into your mouth.

You watched Jeremiah move to remove the bottle from your grasp but didn't bother to stop him. If he had some kind of problem with you drinking all his red wine, he shouldn’t have offered it to you. "Come on, you're going to stay with me doll-face" he purred, leading you out of the door with very little issue.

Everything you were doing was on your own accord, because even Jeremiah knew that if at any time you decided to go home, you would. Still, there was something about the energy between you both that told Jeremiah that you wouldn’t do that.

As much as you hated to admit it, there was something gently and calming about Jeremiah's demeanor...different from how Jerome used to be. You were so tired of thinking and trying, and feeling. It was nice to just be told what to do for a few moments, even if it wasn't necessarily real.

It took the pain out of the equation...even though you didn’t necessarily feel it like you were trying to convince Jeremiah.

~

Jeremiah's 'home' was nice, if you could call it that. There was random people hanging out, just keeping watch and trying to keep the riff raff out.

It wasn't working.

You were a little bit shocked as you looked around. It was much bigger than you'd been expecting, and it was hard to process it all at once.

You'd only ever stayed in apartments in the lower west side of Gotham city and there was more room in the front area of this place than you'd ever seen, something that Jeremiah could see in the reflection of your eyes.

It amused him. If anything, he'd finally found a way to close your mouth even for a moment. You'd had so much to say a few hours ago and now you couldn't even deal with all the information that you were feeding your brain.

There was a lot going on in Jeremiah's "operation" if you could call it that. It didn't make any sense, that he'd created such a large cult in such a short span of time.

Not even the Maniax had ever hit this level of range and devotion, it was incredible...but part of it also made you upset. Jerome had worked so hard for everything that he'd built and now that he was dead, his brother's empire was only dust in the wind.

"Are you enjoying the view pet?" He asked, setting his large hand gently down on your shoulder. You didn't even flinch at the touch, which struck Jeremiah as slightly odd, though he didn't pay it any mind.

You had been fidgeting every few minutes since you arrived, but it was almost as if that persona had melted away. He knew that you were holding out on him, and that wasn’t a secret.

There weren't really words for the emotions you were feeling. For some reason, you felt almost as if you didn't feel anything for it. Sure, the building was impressive, but that didn't mean it made you feel something overly important.

It was boring at best.

"It's big" you hummed, ignoring the slight drop in Jeremiah's face. He had been hoping that you two would bond over the sheer impressiveness of the building that he'd made. He'd worked so hard on it, and part of him wanted you to be impressed by it.

As much as he couldn't stand the mild rejection you were forcing him to swallow, Jeremiah couldn't bring himself to be angry with you. He knew that you would come around in time and he was just going to have to wait for you to get there.

You were his new pet after all.

[musubiki]

misc m&l post for the gang

➞

mochi: 

- LOVES fish. she would eat fish every day if it was nutritionally acceptable. she loves poke with rice the best. shrimp is a close second

- limes grandfather owns a boat at the docks and goes fishing some afternoons. he has lime give mochi some fish and she gets EXCITED. nothing makes her happier than when lime comes in the door with a big cooler and a shit eating grin

- there's a bunch of cats around the mochi shoppe. its like a cat cafe. they say its because mochi used to feed the cats the leftovers and now they won't go away, but in reality, the cats are just drawn to the cat witch

- but, mochi does feed the cats the leftovers

- mochi gets real cat ears and a tail once and month, and all her magic is gone for the duration of the event (usually about 12 hours dusk to dawn) (it manifests physically so she cant use any magic)

- and its hilarious because shes much more cat-like than usual. if you use a laser pointer she will jump on it with very dialated pupils

- she also purrs. lime climbed in her bed and rubbed her ears once(1) and she purred for one(1) second and now he will never let it go. he locks her in a hug to hear her purring on him. she cannot hold her breath forever

- always grumbles and resists when lime hugs/snuggles up to her, calling him a jerk or whatever but she secretly likes it. cant tell him that though so she pretends she doesnt (hes demanding and cocky so he ignores her grumbling and shes thaknful for that)

- mochis room has a lot of plants on her shelves and windowsills and walls. turns out its great to keep a lot of plants around for spell ingredients. and her room smells great

- mochi no like banana

- she and lime bring each other food everyday. he brings them bao buns or some sandwhiches for lunch and she brings desert cakes (his favorite are chocolate or coffee) and mochi ice cream

- mochis schedual (limes too) is basically to wake up early -> help her mom set up shop -> go to school -> come home and work in the shop until 5-6pm and then her and lime go hang out/do homework 

- her favorite thing is when they go to the marketplace together to go shopping for groceries. sometimes they go to the starbucks next to the beach and watch the sunset. its a nice and warm aesthetic

- puts stickers in her spellbook

- uses her one hairtie for every hairstyle

lime:

- has a dog. its a brown austrelian kelpie mix and hes adorable. his name is almond and lime loves him very much

- his family got him as a puppy when lime was 12 when someone was giving away puppies at the supermarket parking lot. 

- hes an excited pupper, very loyal and loves to play fetch. he runs around chasing cats and especially chasing pom. pom hates his ass with all her being

- mochi thinks hes cute, but thinks he can be a bit of a hassel. ofc seeing the cute doggo jump and slober all over lime is adorable so she accepts it

- lime is good in every school subject, but lies about it so he has a reasonable excuse to hang out with mochi. “yyyyeah i failed that last test so uhhh looks like ill have to come over to your house so you can tutor me hahahaha” (he used this a lot when they were just becoming friends)

- hard hitter. he makes the most home runs during baseball games. the rest of the team debates if he could theoretically decapitate someone

- when mochi gets her cat ears once a month lime calls her “kitty” and uses an exessive amount of cat puns. 

- never brings an umbrella ANYWHERE. he would have to run back to his house after going to the gym and was soaked by the time he got there

- and then would find mochi in the greenhouse, and proceed to harass her with sloshy soaked hugs while she struggles to get away

- is actually pretty repesctful of boundaries. if mochi told him she didnt want him to do something anymore, he would stop. and she knows that too, which is why he keeps harrassing her despite her mild protests (he’ll harass her until she seriously asks him to stop)

- no one at school knows where mochi and lime live. they purposely dont tell anyone at school just so all the girls dont come and crowd the shops just to hang out with him

- hes a little bit of a horndog for mochi. (it gets way worse when he realizes he loves her later on)

- cant braid anything to save his life. tried to braid mochis hair once after she gave him a tiny braid. he failed pretty bad

coco:

- part of the track team. shes one of the fastest runners they have. her and lime are more athletic while mochi and oscar are more of the book/nerd types. 

- goth jock (kinda. she wears a lot of monochrome to make her hair stand out)

- she has a pet bird she keeps in her apartment for company!! its a whiteface cockatiel she named “Wing crosby.” shes too embarassed to tell anyone its name so she always panics and says like “john” or something

- acts all cocky all the time, but is actually afraid of a lot of things. she doesnt like heights. or scary movies. or the dark. or wind. shes the biggest scardy cat in the group, but she tries to hide it constantly 

- pretends to be annoyed when oscar asks her to come ghost hunting with him, but she actually kind of enjoys it. she likes going through the comments on the youtube videos later and see everyone complimenting her. plus she gets a boost of ig followers

- she seems to pick on oscar more and more as time goes on. when mochi asked her why, she said “......you know that feeling when you see a really cute dog and you just wanna squish its face in your hands?????? yeah.” she thinks hes adorable. puppy. she doesnt know how to express any emotion other than ridicule. 

- has a skateboard. skateboards around all the time. is actually not bad at it

- manages to get starbucks every morning somehow. 

- the one girl who always brings her aesthetic tumbler of coffee with the plastic straw to classes in the morning 

oscar:

- has a habit of putting his feet up on his desk. que coco whacking his muddy boots away with a magazine

- has two brothers, milo(older) and roland(younger) and a sister on the way. roland is the most musically gifted, but their whole family is pretty good.

- they live out in the countryside so they can generally make a lot of noise without anyone caring. 

- they tease oscar about “having no music talent” (he can only really play the ukulele a little), but really hes the best singer in the family. they dont tell him so it doesnt go to his head

- oscar lives near a river/lake, so he takes a small boat out and goes fishing sometimes. he just chills in the boat with his lil fishing hat and hums quietly. 

- he actually has a big scar on his cheek, which is why he has that bandage thing there. he was in an accident when he was young that left a pretty deep scar there from stitches, and hes really self-concious of it

- pulls his hood over his head when hes embarassed/upset

- his father is a wood-worker. they make a bunch of premium custom furniture and actually have a pretty successful business. oscar is the only son whose actually taking over the business

- and oscar is REALLY good. he made their kitchen table out of a bunch of wood scraps and it looks AMAZING. he just laughs it off as “nah its nothing compared to my dads work”

- the only one in the group with his whole family in-tact.

- has a tv set up in the woodshop so he can watch stuff while he works. its actually more of a hobby for him at this point before he actually starts working on orders

- panics a lot once he realizes he likes coco. he pulls a dipper and makes one of those stupid long lists once as a self-guide on how to talk to coco because hes so nervous 

- made coco a little birdhouse for her bird once as a surprise. it was a nice little house painted black/dark gray on the outside, and a bright blue on the inside to match her aesthetic. she pretended to be like “its ok” but was tearing up a little

[dent-de-leon]

I haven't been able to watch the new season yet since im from europe but coming from from what i've heard, something has been bothering me. If quintessence corrupts, how come keith got doused in it in season 1 without consequences? Do you think thats coming back or nah?

Actually, I think that’s definitely coming back. 

Haggar says that quintessence is life, and for all intents and purposes, it does seem to have the ability to unnaturally prolong life. Even after death. Zarkon tries convincing Alfor that if they harness enough quintessence, they can effectively become immortal. But this is not without a cost; both Haggar and her cat Kova look like their energy has literally been eaten away, their lives drawn out to the point of them being little more than corpses. Haggar and Zarkon also become obsessed with obtaining more quintessence. 

Yes, Keith was only exposed to quintessence once, but he exhibited no negative side effects. He doesn’t have any urge to absorb more quintessence, nor does he appear weakened by it. Keith healing himself seems like a very innate process, like it just comes naturally to him. Now, here’s where stuff gets…out there. Like, more bizarre and far reaching than anything I’m used to, but season 3 was so bizarre and out there that I feel like I just have to try something totally out of left field now lmao. 

So, take all this with a bag of salt but, what if Keith isn’t actually from the same reality as everyone else? heero-yuy has this neat theory about how Keith is actually from another dimension, and maybe even has something to do with the shadow creatures that attack the galran home world. 

Anyway, if Keith were say from the same dimension as the lions, that would at least explain why he’s so drawn to them and can even sense them like a druid:

So far he’s been able to sense Blue and link with both Red and Black. The funny thing about gravitating towards Blue like a druid though is that…well…we know Honerva was a scientist, not a witch. The quintessence is what gave her all her mysterious super powers. And Keith inherently having those same abilities–even being able to connect with Red over a longer distance (which Zarkon was unable to do without druids) is…very strange. 

Keith is also shown to be very interested in quintessence. I don’t think the fact that he was the one who decided to chase after that druid and find out more is a coincidence. This is also shown as curiosity, not obsession like the case of Haggar and Zarkon. Keith gravitates towards quintessence, and yet remains uncorrupted by it. So, you kinda have to wonder–is Keith similar to the lions and the quintessence from their world somehow? Is he maybe even from that same dimension? 

The problem though, is that even if you can cross from the lions’ dimension into ours, you might not be able to take your physical form with you.

Now, here’s a question–what exactly is the astral plane? An alternate dimension, right?

Now, the lions are made from a comet that can travel between dimensions. However, the “creatures” put into the lions couldn’t manifest as a stable physical form in our world. Instead, they look kinda…ghostly and wraithlike:

To me, this seems very similar to how Shiro and Zarkon can appear in the astral plane as these ghostly spirit projections, but can’t take their physical form with them. So yeah, theoretically, Keith being able to maintain any physical form here without being put into a robeast like body might be impossible (unless things there worked more like Sven’s dimension instead). 

Going ahead with other weird dimension stuff though: both Black lion astrally projecting and Haggar’s magic also cause an exchange of shared memories–we see this between Shiro and Zarkon and later with Zarkon and Haggar. So, we can assume that ability’s inherent to quintessence and the lion “creatures” from that dimension. And I think it can be argued that Keith knowing what a galra invasion looks like–seeing it both in his dreams and in the BOM trial (which reads as kinda like repressed memories)–maybe that’s something similar? Does Keith have visions or other people’s memories because he’s from this strange dimension?

Who knows?? Cause I sure don’t, lmao. But yeah, there seems to be a lot of weird shit still going on with Keith and quintessence at this point and I’m hoping season 4 will expand on it. Given that those episodes are basically just supposed to be “the rest of” season 3, I have a feeling that the whole thing about Keith “unlocking new powers” will actually happen then.

[catty-words]

Your opinion on Xandelia and Xanya? Most people don't like the relationships Xander seems to end up in.

…answering this a week later ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ . the short answer is that i have mixed feelings about both relationships. here’s the longer answer:

let’s start with xandelia. on the one hand, i kinda dig the belligerent sexual tension they’ve got going on. i also really love the way the relationship opens up a lot of avenues for cordy’s character. through falling for xander, we get to see a softer side of her – a side that believes in fighting the good fight and doesn’t give a rat’s ass what other people think. watching cordy chase her own happiness is deeply satisfying. 

on the other hand, it’s blatant from the beginning that it’s not meant to be a happy, healthy relationship. xander and cordelia are mean to each other…going for the jugular again and again. so while i enjoy surface quips and tiny jabs meant to annoy instead of truly hurt, i really really really dislike when they attack each other’s biggest vulnerabilities. all in all, i was interested for a short while, got sick of it pretty quickly, and then loved that the writers managed to give the characters some soft, sweet closure before they parted ways.

as for xanya, i do enjoy that they’re the comic relief couple. both anya and xander are incredibly funny both separately and together. what i don’t love is that the writers never found a balance between having them relieve tension and giving them an actual, substantive connection. it’s never really clear why they’re so drawn to each other. they have sweet moments, sure, but the actors aren’t particularly steeped in chemistry, you know what i mean? mostly the relationship falls flat for me. 

the biggest shortcoming of xander’s relationships, in my opinion, is that they never address what’s really interesting from a character pov – xander’s fear that he’s going to end up in his parents’ marriage. though hints are dropped throughout the series, we are only exposed to xander’s reality once in hell’s bells. but once is enough to be effective. xander’s parents are in a horribly unhappy marriage. they resent each other, and his dad is very clearly an abusive prick.

the fact that we never get to explicitly talk about how that’s xander’s only model for a long-lasting relationship does a serious disservice to the character, especially because we see elements of xander’s fears already manifesting in the way he treats his partners. the constant sniping and belittling is played off as funny way too often when it’s really an extremely unhealthy defense mechanism. one that makes sense in terms of xander’s characterization, yeah, but because it’s never addressed and because xander’s never given the chance to grow past his relationship hangups, it just ends up being an unsatisfying and unresolved negative character trait.

sleepover weekend

[inexchangeforyoursoul]

... I fucking forgot to put it on here, too, didn’t I.

(Why this chapter took so long in comparison? Apart from tests, I started adding to some fragments... and wrote at least two other chapters' worth of material. For way later. Kate pls. (aka tfw you have no idea what to insert between two much more planned-out scenes and leave the vague part rotting until further notice)

The rest of the afternoon slips away unnoticed and Kat starts yawning with the darkness setting in. Those damn lamps on the wall make her think of the drowsy winter nights she spends sitting in her window. Also, it's still really hot in here.

Law has been sitting next to her after finishing up another sheet of paper and fiddling around with some stuff in the many drawers of his bureau. Which is rather annoying, because he's yet to say a fucking word. Combined with the stupid task and exhaustion, it's driving her crazy.

Kat's patience is at the end of its tether at last, which manifests itself in a series of quick finger snaps as the pocket watch flickers around. After the last one, the paper tower with the object on it tilts to the side and stops in a precarious angle.

"ARGH, that's it! I give up," she groans, flinging her arms into the air. The practice blocks follow the motion and stretch out alike to a harmonica; some of that paper is indeed just wood fibers and dust by now.

And he stays silent still.

"You really could try and help me out somehow, you know?" she grumbles to him, then decides to arrange the stuff in the suspended garbage towers so they remain more stable once reassembled.

"That's the thing... I can't help more," he sighs, leaning back on his arms. "I already said everything you'd need to know... you get a feeling for it and it happens, eventually. Didn't take that long for me."

"Well, then... riddle me what happens if it doesn't happen?" she asks, poking the ground paper out of the stack. It's kind of annoying this way around...

He shrugs, checking back on what she's doing. "We kidnap you, I guess."

She lifts her brow. Instead of getting rid of the garbage, she moves everything remotely intact to the side instead. Much better, and much easier. "Excuse me?"

"If you need more than two weeks to do it, we'll just take you with us," he states.

"Pfff, as if. Can't catch me, your legs are longer than mine," she scoffs as her fingers do dozens of minute movements and the layers settle in an orderly manner one by one, until the watch finishes it all. The paper block on the right is shorter than its pair now.

He can't quite suppress the laugh upon hearing that. "Touché." Having said that and returning attention to the settling scene as she drops the useless dust and shreds as-is, he sighs. "It really would be easier if it was possible with this technique... you are damn good at it for a beginner."

"It's just easier for me to think with... shapes, rather than space." Being done with practice, she leans forward to rest her head on her hands. "Betcha there exists a way to telekinesis intangible shit back to where it belongs."

"Good luck figuring it out," he says nonchalantly, then flops on the bed.

"Also done for today, huh?" she asks, peeking back towards him.

"Could barely sleep yesterday... and your body can't keep up, so yes, I'm done," is the reply. Then he lowers the hat, which he had on ever since going out to eat for god knows what reason, onto his eyes .

Kat yawns. "No wonder it can't handle it... honestly, do we have to sit in here for this? I'm dying from the heat... gonna catch a cold as soon as I leave."

"Hrm..." he grumbles, then pulls up one leg to loosen the shoelaces. "This is the only place where we definitely won't get disturbed, unfortunately. My crew can stay quiet for a few hours when told so, but," deepest sigh she's heard as of yet, "Nico-ya said Strawhat was already questioning where the hell I was... just imagine him crashing on us." He kicks off one shoe, then switches legs. "Nope."

Kat bobs her head in silent agreement. The other ship's captain was clingy enough at breakfast; needed to be reminded four times that she's not Law. "Fair enough." She pats his knee and stands up.

"Eight again tomorrow?" she asks, yawning again.

He grunts something that's a very likely yes; she gives a similar sound upon leaving the room, as a ways to say bye.

Having waddled her way up to the Thousand Sunny, -and being fast at that, too, because it's gotten cold outside,- she enters the girl's room again, where she's met with way too much brightness compared to the submarine.

"Holy fuck, if I was a vampire I would have disintegrated the moment I opened the door," she says, rubbing her eyes.

"You mean Torao is no vampire after all?" Nami asks to both Carrot's and Kat's amusement. Judging by the voices, they are sitting somewhere to the far left.

"Infiltration of water cave successful, lacking evidence as of yet," she plays on while running into one of the chairs with eyes squeezed shut. Carrot was already laughing harder at the answer, but her going mole has her in stitches; Nami has joined in, too. Can't see shit, but this is music to her ears.

"Apparently I've become blind as a bat, though..." she continues while taking a quick, squinty blink at her surroundings. "Anyway, yet to see him leave at daylight without a hat on. Further investigation need-ow!" That must have been the leg of the other chair she just rammed her foot into... goddamn.

"Do you guys actually need anything more than a nightlight for what you're doing?" she says, suppressing a hiss with moderate success.

"Nope, on my way," Nami says calming down; this is followed by a few knocks on the strip floor, then a click with the stinging brightness subduing. Finally, she can see again. Her eyes still kinda hurt, though.

"Thanks," Kat breathes in relief as she drops on her cover pile, then poofs the pillow a little.

"Tired?" asks the navigator while walking back to the vanity desk she's been sitting at.

"Yeah," she sighs, settling down. "Using this devil fruit is rather draining... not to mention that his room is as hot as a volcano. Though you've probably been around there already, no?"

"I've only been as deep as the dining room," is Nami's answer. "Carrot did help with something down there, though- right?" she asks, turning to the rabbit girl.

"Yeah, been to the engine-room once," comes the excited reply. "The motor itself is bigger than our submarine!" the mink adds, spreading out her arms to illustrate. The point of the original question is forgotten.

"Makes sense..." Kat muses. "It is a pretty big... shipmarine, after all." She yawns, then shudders upon hitting the cold blankets; her lair is chilly, which is unwelcome after the hours spent in the heat. Kat pulls the dedicated cover over her shoulder. Thinking about it, though... these guys also have a submarine? What?

"Should we leave you alone?" asks Nami, putting the hairbrush she's been fiddling with away. Carrot bounces to the closer end of the bed to check on Kat's cocoon.

"Nah, it's fine... I doubt it's all that late, anyway." She... really has no idea about the time. The sun went down around eight yesterday. It must be about one hour before her normal bedtime at worst... she's probably exhausted enough to fall asleep with people talking nearby regardless. And without lying sleeplessly for up to an hour before losing consciousness; that's why she makes sure to go to bed between 10 and 11 in the first place.

"Well," starts the redhead as she takes a look at the clock inside, "it's twenty past nine. You did go to sleep not much later yesterday."

Was about half an hour off... oh well. "I see... do what you like, then," she mumbles, already half-aware of her surroundings. The blankets are getting nice and warm.

"If you say so," sighs Carrot, already getting up. She surveys the corner pile for a few seconds, then turns back to Nami, flapping an ear. "Out cold like salad. Shall we check on the others and the thing they were excited about? That flier seemed interesting."

The other nods, and tiptoes out with the fuzzy girl in tow.

It's not until the 6am bell toll that Kat wakes, but there was little rest she could get. Like earlier in the afternoon, she has seen a legitimate nightmare. It kind of felt like any other really drawn-out dream with lots of running around, except those don't cause her to wake with every bit of hers shaking and sweating. They never do that. Instead of getting chased by a faceless anxiety monster that she shakes off over and over, getting lost in a magical labyrinth loaded with traps, or riding an unruly dinosaur through a never ending library, it was all just so... cold. Plain. And unnaturally unchanging, and depressing.

She doesn't know who the man in the feather coat was, but hell if she wanted him to leave.

Then, he did anyway... and there was fire again, and she woke in tears and with a lump in her throat. It took a few seconds until she noticed that the pain she felt while sleeping clung onto her and manifested itself back in reality, just like before. This time, however, it was not just her side- half of her body felt as if it was trying to murder her. The entire torso was either stiff or throbbing with pain, if not both, as was her left arm. A good portion of it didn't subdue within a few minutes, either. By the time Nami, Robin and Carrot woke up, most of the stiff, stabbing pain in her chest moved deep under her clavicle.

"Say, Kat... you don't look well at all," notes Nami in the doorway as they move out as the last ones. "Are you doing alright?"

"It's... nothing big, I just got up with the wrong foot; or shoulder. Guess sleeping like this has its downs, huh." Except she was lying on her right side and you can't do that with what's likely your internal organs... no idea what else it could be, though, except maybe overheating. Which she's perfectly willing to blame. Damn, does she feel like shit, though... it's tolerable by now, but her ribcage and arm are still aching and this fact is apparently not subject to change. The next round in the sauna will be the icing on the cake. Although... she remembers the cooler weather that was promised for the day; based on what Shachi said about the temperatures, it might be bearable this time. She sure hopes so.

"Eugh..." Nami reacts as if she just felt a pang herself, pulling her neck in; "That's always bad... do you want a massage? Robin is really good at it, let's catch up with her."

"Really...? I don't know," Kat says, pondering. She should probably take on the offer, but it still doesn't feel right. "I guess... I'll pass for now... maybe in the afternoon? If it still hurts. It probably will, though... These tend to stay for a few days."

"You sure like to go for compromises," Nami sighs.

"Well..." Yeah, she does. She scratches her neck- a bad move that's immediately punished by a pang right above her shoulder blade. Her face twitches and she lets out a small moan. Alright, while she has a mystery torture service going on, she also may, in fact, have slept on her neck, because no other part of this bullshit reacts to movement.

"... painkiller?" asks Nami, raising a worried brow.

"Definitely down for that," she grumbles.

Shoving down one crescent roll (and Luffy away) at the table just to swallow the pill in an appropriate manner is quite a chore, though; normally she wouldn't eat a thing until at least 10, getting nauseous from the food otherwise. Which, surprise, she does; double the fun until the painkiller kicks in.

As she pretty much tiptoes down the metal stairs, -and resists the vague urge to throw up,- she decides to hum a tune. That usually distracts her from ills. Even helps with pain, as she's heard- inclined to believe that. At least she feels a bit better afterwards. Let's see... Drunken Sailor sounds fine. And is also kind of appropriate at the moment.

Humming along, she picks up a light echo of what she's doing and... wait a goddamn minute.

Going a little higher or deeper... everything sounds just fine with minimal effort. Kat's steps pick up pace, and she practically kicks the door onto Law, ignoring the extra neck pain it comes with.

"You!" she shouts basically as it slams open. Law's heart attack counter: 2. "You can sing," she whispers with leery eyes.

The look of utter terror creeps onto the face of the man as he gets over the initial shock. A face she soon can't resist laughing at.

"Oh my god," Kat starts as soon as she cannot keep herself from cackling anymore, the vibrations of which release another chain reaction of stabs in her shoulder. Can't decide which sensation the tears are caused by. "is... is this *cough* your most closely guarded secret, or what, because... your, hhhh- owowow... your face, man...!" she slowly collapses into a squat of joyful misery.

"First of all," he stammers in angry embarrassment, "you better keep this to yourself...!" She looks back up at him. Didn't know her face was capable of getting that red, whether it was from anger or shame.

All in all, a bad move as she needs to laugh harder, which... really is more painful than anything else. A little pain in the abdomen reappears, too, though it may just be the regular stomach ache caused by laughing too much. She hisses and squeezes her locked hands to redirect attention. This would be more effective if the left hand would still hurt... but that's one of the parts where the pain started to subdue by now.

Taking note of her display of anguish, Law sheds every additional emotion and puts on his usual serious demeanor. "... what's the matter?"

"Slept on my neck," she whimpers. Sticking to this half-truth for now; the stuff she just took should care of the rest, anyway. "Asked for some painkillers already, though."

"... those probably won't do," Law states after short consideration, then turns back to beeline for his bureau.

"What do you mean?" Kat asks, peeking up carefully as to not strain any of the afflicted muscles. He's rooting around in the upper right drawer.

"Let it suffice... that my body has developed a resistance against weak agents," he says with more monotony than what she's gotten used to.

It seems he's especially crabby today. Regardless... that means he's drugging himself regularly. Why, though? It's... hmm. She puts a hand on her left shoulder where receptors demand attention from deep below the skin again. There's... an inkling. Sad thing, if true, regardless of cause.

A second later he picks up a little paper bag, shakes its sole content out, and crumples the rest. "You've eaten something, I assume?" he asks, stepping back up to her.

"Yep, ate a roll," she groans as he's helping out with the feat of standing up. "Which in turn also makes me wanna puke. I don't eat a thing so early for this very reason..." she breathes. Good news: the additional lingering pain in her chest disappeared after laughing. Bad news: some of the pain returned to her stomach, and she's got the faint feeling it has nothing to do with said activity. The averaging of it all ends in a 'vaguely better than before,' though.

"Not a good practice, but I see your point," he says, holding out the pill for her to catch.

"What part of me is healthy or a good practice?" Kat asks, taking it with a big gulp of water from her cool bottle after he drops it into her palm. Speaking of cool water, the room is as warm as... a room in winter with a nice fire going, which must mean about ten grades less, thankfully. Then again, it's eight, not ten o'clock, so that's subject to change. Where was she again? Oh, right, health. "I'm a stick figure with zero stamina and atrocious circulation. And god knows what else has been flying under the radar."

Crossing his arms, Law takes a deep breath. "Your circulatory system is... not exactly good, I'll give you that. Blood pressure might as well belong to a corpse, as does the temperature in the end of your limbs because of that. The fact that your joints crack frequently is enhanced by that and insufficient exercise. Get someone to treat them or you'll face quite a few painful problems in a decade or two. Then... ah, yes, the mucous membrane is a little more active than it ought to be, but that's no issue. You also might wanna get -0.5 reading glasses, brush your teeth more often if you don't want to visit the dentist in a few months, and honestly? Stop scratching your neck and shoulders, it's full of scabs and wounds which could get ugly infections in harder to reach places." He sure did just say that without thinking and in one go. Having finished the monologue, he looks back up and considers quick whether he left out something. "I found nothing else when I did the checkup."

"Uh..." She's not sure how to react here. Won't be able to stop the scratching just like that, and she's aware of the toothbrush- god, why the toothbrush again?!,- problem. Now she has motivation to keep it in mind, too. Either way, Law did just spare her a long overdue trip to the local doctor. "Thanks?"

"No need to," he nods.

"What's up with you, though? You are being so... tense. Even more than exactly 24 hours ago." She tries to keep him in sight as she carefully cramp-walks her way to her semi-official bed seat for training.

Hearing that, he... Kat's not sure how to describe the reaction. There's definitely a nervous, if not shameful streak to it, though. "Nothing you should concern yourself about."

Okkkay... he's definitely hiding something. It's likely nothing she has any stakes in, though, so... leave lying dog(tor)s be.

Having settled down with minimal pain at last, the still higher than average heat gets noticeable. She pulls at the shirt to get some air going. Raising the cloth, though... it's almost stuck to her. Gross. Oh bother...

"By the by... I feel... it's time I asked for fresh clothes?" Kat would love to punch herself for feeling bothersome, but it hurts her trapezious muscle just to think about it. It's not as if she also gave half of her wardrobe away, or anything...

"Oh... sure," he responds with a little delay, shaking off the unknown shadow that's been looming over him. "The chest of drawers should have anything you need at the moment, pick what you like," he says then, pointing to her temporal working station.

She sighs... getting up again? Ugh. "Alright..." Will need a bath before changing, though. That will be fun- especially with all this soreness. The pill should start working in about half a hour... until who knows when. Will need to time it all. Or... wait a sec. Can't she just...

"Is something the matter?" asks Law as the epiphany hits her.

"I just realized that I won't have to bother getting up the traditional way," she says, lifting a finger; with that, she rises from the bed, then adjusts the angle and stretches out her legs to meet the floor again. Unfortunately, the wooziness is heightened by the action; she's not doing that again until the crescent roll in her stomach is gone.

"That you did," Law notes with a half-smile.

"It's... kinda different, though," she notes, stepping forward to the piece of furniture. "I moved stuff... relative to myself thus far, I mean." Crouch down... slowly...

"It is really disorienting when you multitask, so generally I just don't bother. Neither with this circus act, nor relocating myself. Though, that one is a useful strategical tool so I'll do it in a pinch." He joins her in front of the messy desk-wannabe, pulling out a small drawer over her head, then drops fresh underwear on latter.

Oooh... "You sayin' there's built-in teleport?" she peeks up to him from beyond the drawer again in wonderment, which is punished by another stab at the shoulder. As is reaching for the piece of clothing. Fuck.

"Yep." With that, he slams the drawer back in and sits onto the corner of the hard wood surface.

"... if I didn't suck at it and risk drowning in the ocean I'd sneak out to my house to shower right now," she sighs turning back more carefully, then picks a fresh t-shirt.

"... look at that. You just made me feel relieved about sucking badly at the skill we severely need, all because it guarantees that you wouldn't even attempt something foolish like that." Seeing how her body's legs don't reach the floor, he starts swinging them a little. When even was the last time he could sit on a piece of non-giant furniture and do this...?

"At your service," she smiles. Nudging the big drawer in, she slowly works the bottom one out to get the pants (that's what must be down there by rule of elimination, no?) she's missing. "Jokes aside, I've been sweating a lot and everything is sticking to me. On a sidenote, how often do you bathe, just to clear this up?"

Law scratches his head. When will questions like these just... end? Considering the state of affairs which he alone is responsible for, not any time soon. He sure hopes she won't mind him skipping every other day at least. Wouldn't be able to keep up a daily shower system. "I bathe up to four times a week if I need to... When there's nothing happening, it drops down to two."

"Okay... I'll just go for the average and keep up my usual three, then," she says while ascending at a leisure pace, aaand... successfully attained standing position.

"Sounds fair, will do the same," the man remarks. She's not that cleanly, thank god... speaking of which, though: "You might as well use the bathroom down here while this lasts."

"Down here?" she raises an eyebrow at him; the structure is not big enough for two bathrooms... she doesn't put it past him to have a secret door right in his room, though.

"The last door on the engine side, just past my room," he explains, swinging his legs a little more. "Was a random little pocket without function right below the showers, so... I had one installed," he shrugs.

Pff, that's so lazy. She bets noone's ever used it other than him. "Sounds like you're hogging the warm water to me... is that where you sing?" she asks with a sly smile as she leans against the piece of furniture, too.

"Oi," he snaps back, "keep it shut! How did you even notice?!"

Kat shrugs a tiny bit, too. "I sing myself now and then, duh. Was humming a song on the way down here and the staircase echo gave you away." As it happened, to a T.

Law sighs. That's just great; he sure hopes nobody was around to hear. "Either way, please, don't tell anyone. I get nagged about random bullshit all the time already, something like karaoke would be the cherry on the shitcake." Took him long enough to get Bepo, Shachi and Penguin to stay silent...

"... shy, huh?" she cocks her head. Considering her muscle problem, this could have been a terrible idea.

"The word is 'tired'," he corrects her, then leans on a hand all sullen.

Being responsible for a ship full of people would be really stressful, honestly. However... "I'd be inclined to believe you if it weren't for your reaction following my, um... 'entrance,'" she notes with a smaller smile.

Law sighs. "Get the fuck out and don't show yourself till clean," he grumbles while dropping off the dresser.

"Gladly~" Kat sings, making her way out.

She's about to wonder whether it would have been more sensible to sit out the day before, but then... then she sees the object in the back, which fits in no way whatsoever to everything else.

"Good lord, so extra," she snickers. The tap, mirror, towel rack, every object in the room is as puritan as it can get... then there's that fancy tub, which barely fits inside. Not a single millimeter between it and the walls surrounding it. He must have operated it in himself, quite literally. Because there's no way it fit through the entrance... has legs and everything, too.

Yep, there's no way anyone else comes in here, ever.

With a deep sigh, she drops the fresh clothes onto the chair. No time to laugh at him, she's... gotta do what she has to here.

"Wow... this is a tattoo, alright..." she muses once (painfully...) having gotten rid of the brave double-drenched shirt that's served her thus far. A heart... or at least something in the shape of it. Kinda cute, actually. Taking a better look at it in the mirror, she also notices ones on his shoulders. He knows his theme; can't decide if he was trying to be edgy with it, though, because the cartoon shape is everything but threatening. 10 bucks on him having something on his back, too... this was not worth the neck pain, but yep, bullseye in the shape of a jolly roger.

Normally, she would be capable of wasting up to half an hour poking at herself in the mirror before and after taking a long-ass shower, but she can't feel at ease goofing off like this right now. Someone's waiting, she's at a foreign place, in a foreign body... would love to be at home right now. Preferably as her own self. Sigh. The people around here are too sociable, she has no time to recharge. At any rate... she had better pull herself together and just get over with the rest.

[ridiasfangirlings]

Reincarnation Fushimi: Fushimi died in Return of the king. Homra and S4 so sad about this. One year later, Misaki and S4 find a little girl who is very similar to Fushimi but Fushimi did not know them. What will they do? Because girl!Fushimi because he (or she maybe) did not know that she had previously died.

So say that Douhan doesn’t come for Fushimi in ROK, Yata savesFushimi from Sukuna but leaves him to get out on his own. Fushimican’t get far on his wounded leg though and he’s still stuckunderground when the base begins to cave in. In the mess of theaftermath no one realizes that Fushimi hasn’t made it out until it’stoo late, like Yata gets above ground and finds out that Anna’s safeand the rest of Homra got out fine but he’s worried about Fushimi tothe point that Kusanagi has to stop Yata from going back down andpossibly getting himself killed trying to bring Fushimi out. Kusanagifigures that Scepter 4 would have gotten Fushimi out but by the timethey reach the spot where the Scepter 4’s stationed none of thetroops even seem to know what he’s talking about when he tries to askabout Fushimi. Yata’s getting increasingly more agitated and finallyKusanagi spots Awashima and runs over to her. Before he can even sayanything Awashima grabs his wrist and says Fushimi’s name, Kusanagi’sexpression shifts as he realizes what must have happened while behindthem Anna just clutches at her chest and closes her eyes. Yata looksbetween them, angry and disbelieving and he finally just startsyelling at everyone, like why are we standing here we need to getSaruhiko out of there. Kusanagi tries to tell him to calm down butYata’s already losing it and that’s when Munakata appears, havingwaited by the entrance to jungle’s base right up until the very endfor Fushimi to come out. Munakata takes full responsibility forFushimi’s death and maybe he even gets punched for the second time inone day, Yata just hauling off on him and Munakata lets him, sinceafter all Fushimi was his clansman and Fushimi’s life was Munakata’sresponsibility, and Munakata failed him in that.

So say it’s a few years later when they meet reincarnated Fushimi(since just one year later I don’t know if one year old reincarnatedFushimi would be really obvious). Maybe in the intervening yearsYata’s kinda come to terms with losing Fushimi but it’s still an achein his chest and his deepest regret, that he left Fushimi behind thattime after they beat Sukuna and that the two of them were never ableto truly reconcile and come to an understanding. One night Yata’s outlate after finishing his part time job and maybe he stops to getsomething to eat at a vending machine. As he’s leaning there againstthe wall something small bumps into him, Yata staggers for a secondand then reaches out to steady the small thin girl who just bumpedinto him. Yata starts to give a rushed apology but the girl justpushes past him. Yata’s wondering why a kid’s out so late when herealizes that the girl just stole his wallet. He yells after her andthe girl takes off running, Yata just grabs his skateboard from whereit was leaning against the wall and gives chase. He manages to catchup to her pretty quick, grabbing her by the arm and pulling the hoodof her coat down, finding himself face to face with a pair of brightblue eyes and for a moment Yata finds himself with Saruhiko’s name onhis lips and he isn’t even really sure why. The girl meanwhile clicksher tongue and is annoyed that she let the midget catch up to her.

Yata’s like who the hell are you calling a midget and anyway why’s akid out all alone at night. The girl says that it’s none of hisbusiness and tries to escape his grip, saying she’ll give his walletback so he can let her go. Her wrist is so thin that Yata can feelher bones and he ends up spontaneously deciding to take her back tohis apartment. She assumes he’s going to call the police but insteadYata starts making her a proper meal, she mutters that there betternot be any vegetables in it because she hates those. Yata feels apang in his chest as he laughs quietly and says not to worry, hisbest friend hates – hated vegetables too. The girl doesn’task him about the slip and Yata doesn’t say any more, making her foodand sitting her down at the table. He sits opposite her and watchesher eat, trying to ask her about her family and do they know she’sstealing people’s wallets. The girl clicks her tongue and says it’snone of his business as she slowly eats the food. Yata’s like wellit’s late so I guess I can’t call your parents tonight, you’ll haveto stay with me. The girl’s suspicious but agrees, she tries to sneakout at least once during the night but Yata catches her and sends herback to bed.

From there Yata finds himself unexpectedly taking care of the girl,she doesn’t seem in any hurry to go back to where she came from andeven though she’s bad tempered and grumpy Yata finds himself drawn totake care of her. Maybe he takes her to Homra and even though it’sbeen a few years since the Slate was destroyed Anna still has some ofher powers left, she looks at the girl through her marble and latertells Yata that there’s something odd about the girl’s aura,something clouded that she can’t see. Yata ends up reluctantlyletting Kusanagi contact Scepter 4 to find the girl’s parents,intending to call them, but when the girl finds out she just laughsbecause her parents don’t give a shit about her and won’t be comingfor her either way, but if Yata wants to get rid of her she’s happyto leave. Yata refuses to let her go though, like there’s justsomething that makes him want to keep an eye on her.

Then one day the girl gets sick and Yata starts taking care of her,she’s in the midst of a delirious fever when she suddenly grabs hiswrist and stares at him with bright dilated eyes, saying very clearly’Misaki.’ The girl’s never used his first name before – hehasn’t even told her what it is – and Yata doesn’t know what tosay. The girl starts saying more strange things in the middle of herfever, saying ‘Misaki’ over and over again and apologizing, at onepoint she also mutters ‘Captain, do your own work’ and Yata doesn’tknow how to handle this, like he’s suddenly certain that this isSaruhiko but at the same time he wonders if this is just wishfulthinking on his part, his inability to let Fushimi go manifestingitself on the girl. He calls Scepter 4 again and this time Munakatahimself shows up at the apartment, Munakata walks up to the sick girleven as Yata warns him not to upset her. Munakata puts a gentle handon her forehead though and quietly says 'My apologies for taking solong to retrieve you, Fushimi-kun.’ The girl stirs and looks up athim with fever bright eyes as she sighs and tells him not to makesuch a stupid expression before falling back asleep. At that point itbecomes clear that yes, this is Fushimi reincarnated, but once thefever wears off it’s also clear that the girl herself has no idea ofher past life.

I think from there Yata would find himself torn, like part of himjust wants Fushimi back, but he can also see Fushimi’s shadow in thisgirl in more ways than one and he kinda wants to protect this girlthe way his middle school self couldn’t protect Saruhiko all thoseyears ago. The girl ends up with this whole extended family of peoplewho love her, all of Homra adopts her and Scepter 4 ends up becomingclose to her as well (Munakata informs the others about who the girlis of course, when they all first meet Awashima and the alphabet boysare surprised to see that 'Fushimi’ is now this small angry girl.Then Awashima steps forward with a gentle smile and holds out a handto the girl, introducing herself and asking if the girl would like atour of headquarters). On the one hand Yata sometimes finds himselfwishing still that he could speak to Saruhiko again, that he couldhave his Saruhiko back and they could be together, but he’salso finding some comfort at last in helping this girl, the old painsthat were still in his chest easing as he sees her slowly start toopen up and learn to care about other people, the two of them sort ofhealing each other as he helps to raise her.