#and got to chat to some of the managers involved with the red dead cast

[supjello]

hehehe

[marvels-writings]

Lost

Maria Hill Masterlist

Summary: She’s lost without you, and when she finally finds you, a goodbye looms in the distance.

Requested by Anon: how about a fic where maria hill is working on a mission in which she has to rescue reader? every single time she's gotten close to getting reader, hydra manages to stay one step ahead of her no matter what. it's been nearly two years without the love of her life and maria has gotten close to reader once again. the twist? hydra gives reader back to maria but only after injecting a highly experimental serum that causes excruciating pain to reader. the only solution is for maria to kill reader bc reader doesn't want to be in pain for the rest of their life. it's up to maria to make the decision.

Word Count: 3.3k (Long and angsty)

A/N: This took me over a week to write and fuck me if it isn’t some of my best written work. @aaron-despair and I planned out an angsty weekend for y'all, i think you'll like it, even if it makes you cry ;)

Quiet filled the room, not the peaceful quiet of mornings everyone is used to. Rather a suffocating one, one reminding you of mistakes, old and new, bringing to light the horrors of your reality. Even if the light from the early day began to seep through the blinds, the silence remained.

The papers scattered around the desk were even worse than the silence. They taunted Maria; showed her how she was always one step behind from finding you. The information always a day too late; you were gone just a few hours before she could find you.

Two years it had been going, two whole years she'd been trying to find you. It had just passed the day Maria lost you. Fury had forced her to take a week off, to try to take her mind off it. Instead, she buried herself in reports, clues, anything to find you.

This time, she thought she might be close. The information was new, blaring at her from the laptop screen in front of her. Rubbing her eyes, she focused on it again, reading the words over and over. It had your name on it, along with others captured in the HYDRA base.

A rare smile turned the corners of her lips at the mere thought of bringing you back. All that had kept her going was you, the memories of you, the pictures, everything she could preserve. Without even that, she would be lost, without you to guide her forwards. The mementos were all that was keeping her from losing herself in her loss.

Memories sometimes feel like poison, don't they? Especially when they come in the form of dreams, capturing you in a trance, forcing you to believe an ethereal reality which you can't call your own. Sometimes you can wake up from them, choosing to leave the trance; but the pleasure of staying a few more moments in a treasured dream was too tempting for even Maria to pass up.

She turned in her sleep, her eyes fluttering restlessly as her mind conjured memories she rarely let herself indulge into. The memory is one she didn't remember fully; it just being another day where she got to wake up beside you. Your touch lingering on her skin, your lips ghosting over her neck as you welcomed her into the morning.

A smile adorned her face as she looked at you. You didn't look like the countless pictures she kept, rather the way she always wants to remember you. Cast in golden light, adoration lining your every motion, smiling, free.

Her hand reached up to your face, running across the skin of your cheek. Everything felt so right like she was where she belonged. It was like she had been lost for so long, wandering for years until she found her home with you.

Why could she only find her home in a dream?

Why could she only seek solace in the ghost of your touch? Why should she feel cold in the warm rays of sunlight only to feel warm in her memories? Why should she feel lost every single day, only to feel anchored when dreams finally invade her lonely presence?

Opening her eyes, it all faded away into the blank white of the sheets and the dull light of the day. Some light of hope, a few rays of sunlight made their way through the overcast, giving her the slightest glimmer of hope. It convinced her, just for a few minutes, there may be a chance she won't have to seek you in her dreams again.

That tiny sliver of hope pulled her through the day and into the jet to go find you. Agents talked and laughed on the jet, offering a silent nod to Maria when she entered. They understood her grief better than most, being the people you'd sacrificed yourself for.

Though, sacrificed isn't exactly the word for it. You weren't dead, just missing, lost to her and everyone who tried to find you. You, stupidly, idiotically, had chosen to stay behind to save them. Even on a mission, you weren't supposed to go on; you stayed in a HYDRA base to save them.

Selflessness was a trait she had commended you for, but she never thought it would tear you from her.

The same team you'd stayed behind for were always the first to jump on the jet when you were involved. They were the ones who told Maria you were gone. They saw her crumble, feeling her pain as if it was their own. The guilt weighed down on them ever since, bringing them to every single chance to find you, to take away Maria's pain they were so sure they caused.

The ride to the location was fairly quiet, the agents chatting quietly on the other side of the jet while Maria sat at the front, monitoring the autopilot. She didn't need to sit there to make sure the jet was on course, but she wanted the time alone.

Her gaze was fixed on the ring she twirled in her fingers. The gold solitaire glinted in the light, making everything brighter for a treasured few moments. You'd fawned about the ring to her in a jewelry shop before she proposed to you, describing it as flawless and too pretty to wear. You didn’t think Maria would listen to your little rant, much less buy you the ring to promise herself to you. You would've loved it.

Maria tugged the ring back onto its chain, where it had remained until you could wear it. The chain stayed around her neck, rarely being taken off unless necessary. The cold metal of the ring rested against her skin, always reminding her of you.

You would've joked about it being sappy, finding it adorable how she would want to keep a part of you close to her. Never had she been called adorable before, everyone being too intimidated by the Deputy Director of SHIELD. But you, you simply ran your fingers over her skin, claiming her perfection while everyone saw otherwise.

"We're here."

Maria nodded, hiding her surprise at the interruption. She should've been the one to say that, too lost in her thoughts of you to care about much else. It didn't matter though, this might be another chance where she wouldn't have to dream of you to keep you close.

Fully armed, the team moved out of the jet and towards the base. The dull grey of the buildings contrasting with the bright green of the forest around them. Maria couldn't help her thoughts wandering to what you would've thought of the view.

You'd always wanted to go somewhere green for your honeymoon. It didn't matter if it was a bright day or not, you always enjoyed the clouds more. You claimed it brought out the green in the trees, making a heaven out of what others see as disappointing.

The green was all she could stare at as she made her way to the base. The paint on the walls of the building was chipping off as her fingers ran over it. The team surrounded the base, slowly making their way inside. Maria stayed outside, on the off chance she saw their transport driving away from the base.

Strange, she already expected you won't be here. She was already preparing her speech for the team when they were disappointed once more. The chance of bringing you back had been taken away from her so many times that having it back was too hard to believe.

Shouts over the comms caught her attention, the team went off plan to gather around the back entrance of the building. The objective lost as they huddled around a screaming voice. Maria began shouting at the team to get back into formation to find you, but something about the voice was oddly familiar.

the voice was the one she heard in her dreams, the one she sought out every day to bring her some sense of comfort. The voice was yours, screaming out in pain. Never had she heard you scream before, the sound causing chills to erupt around her body as she ran towards you.

Her feet pounded the ground, her heartbeat thudding in her ears as fear clouded her mind. You were back, but why were you in so much pain if you were rescued? The team parted for her, letting her through to you. Their eyes held hopelessness and pity as they watched her reach you.

Finding you was something she had imagined hundreds of times, running over each scenario in her mind. Sometimes it was out of a romantic movie, other times it was different, this wasn't something she had ever imagined. Your screams were sure to haunt her for years to come as you fought an imaginary enemy.

Your back arched off of the ground, your hands punching the air in vain as screams were torn from your throat. Your face contorted in pain, covered in dirt and blood she could only hope wasn't yours. The clothes you wore were almost rags, torn everywhere.

Maria dropped down onto her knees, the sticks in the ground poking the skin there. She reached out towards your hands, trying to quiet you, pain filling her every movement. You didn't look at her, not once, fighting off an imaginary enemy instead of focusing on her.

Tears slid down her cheeks as she tried in vain to take away your pain. She didn't know what they had done to you, much less how to stop it. The team surrounding her whispered to each other, knowing some secret they hadn't let her in on.

Her hands pinned your wrist by your sides as you squirmed, eyes closed shut. The sticks scratched your skin, bringing out tiny red lines which dripped into the mud. But you weren't bothered by the scratches, nor the bruises lining your body too lost in your mind.

"Y/N!" Maria shouted, trying desperately to bring you out of your head. "Please,"

Her words were a soft plea, begging to bring you back to her. She had lived in fear of losing you for so long, but she had only ever thought of losing you to death. Never had she thought of losing you like this, in a pain, she didn't know how to end.

She spoke your name over and over again in a desperate plea to bring you back to her. You relaxed at her voice, your body going limp as your eyes began to flutter open. Her hands came up to your face, guiding your gaze to her. You finally focused on her, a smile breaking through your look of pain.

"Hey," Maria whispered, a rare smile gracing her lips. She leaned her forehead against yours, feeling your breath across her face, your hands slowly coming up around her. They dragged her down, too exhausted to hold her.

But it was you. Everything was the same but different at the same time. Your soul was broken, teeming with ragged edges of glass and blood, its core still the same. The woman she had fallen in love with was there, underneath the pain and the exhaustion, it was you.

The same you she had seen in her dreams every night, calling out to her. The same woman she had mourned every single day for two years. The same one she longed to put the ring on because her soul could never unite with another.

Her arms slid under your waist, trying to pick you up to get you medical attention, but you dragged her back down. A frown etching its way onto her face, she pulled away, gesturing towards the jet. You shook your head, your face grimacing in pain she didn't know how to take away.

"Don't go," You croaked, fingers clasping around her t-shirt tightly. Your weak grip a vain attempt to keep her close.

Maria shook her head, whispering to you that she wasn't going to let you go. Never could she let you out of her sight again, fearing you might leave her forever. Now, these few moments she had with you, she wanted more. A lifetime more of them, pulling the engagement ring out of her pocket.

"I won't," Maria whispered, smiling as she pulled your hand from her waist to put the ring on.

A smile covered your face at the ring, admiring it up close. This moment, it was supposed to be beautiful, the ring sealing you to her forever. But it felt more of a goodbye, the team crying around her and murmuring instead of cheering. Something was deeply wrong, but what?

Her gaze went back to you, ignoring the pit growing in her stomach. Dread filled her when you looked at her apologetically. You looked as if you were going to leave her, say your last goodbyes, and be gone for good, leaving her lost forever.

"I wish I could stay forever." You murmured. A beautifully sad smile turned the corner of your lips, sealing the dread growing in Maria's stomach.

Why were you so ready to say goodbye if she'd just found you again?

"Why can't you?" Maria asked, pleading with you to stay with her. She doubted she could last another lifetime without you to guide her. You were everything to her, the darkness she found herself lost in and the light to guide her out of it.

A syringe was handed to her wordlessly, an explanation offered by one of the team. She listened with half of her attention, the rest of it focused on you. With every word you sank further into the ground, your head resting on the dirt. Her hand gripped the syringe tightly, willing for this all to go away so she could have her dream with you.

Why is it everything is taken away so soon? All these years she had been lost, only to find you again for a treasured few moments. Now, the serum they had injected you with would cause you pain for the rest of your life if she chose to save you. The serum was injected into the rest of the team, but only a mild solution to see the effects. You, on the other hand, were given an option, to die now or live a painful reality for a lifetime.

"Hey," You whispered, your hand slowly coming up to cup her cheek, your thumb running circles around her cheekbone. She lifted her head to look at you, tears making their way down her cheeks. Your fingers wiped them away, your touch lingering on her cheeks, a small smile gracing the corner of your lips.

The guilt of causing this goodbye began to weigh on the team. They had already taken you from her once, but the hope of bringing you back to her kept the guilt at bay. Now, you were going to be gone, forever. The guilt ate them away as they walked away, letting you have your last goodbyes.

"I want you to have this." You reached into the pocket of your clothes. In your hand, lay a dirty silver ring with a sapphire stone in the center. HYDRA knew the reason behind the ring, letting you keep it as a weak illusion of hope. Your fingers ran over the engraving you had carved on the inside of the band, hoping she would read it later.

Her tears fell on the ring, watching you put it onto her fingers. The ring symbolized your love, your want to grow old with each other, to spend the rest of your life with her. The dream, the purpose the ring stood for, was never going to be fulfilled.

You couldn't stay with her, not now, not forever. The pain you felt, wasn't something you wanted for the rest of your life. You didn't want to live a life which most would be happy to live but have pain underlining your every action. You knew Maria knew your choice to leave, neither of you want to say it yet.

But you knew this was your last goodbye.

Such a painful pleasure to be denied a few moments with you. To dream about this moment, for nights on end, imagining being with you again, only to have it denied. To hope, every single day for a dream you had made together only to have it never come true.

The memories she had with you lasted her through the two years of your absence. Through the darkness your absence cast, through the late nights of being so utterly lost without a light to guide her way. The moments she had with you now, would last her the rest of her life.

"I'm not ready to say goodbye again," Maria spoke, tears slipping from her eyes faster than you could wipe them away. you sighed, leaning your forehead against hers, your hand clasping hers tightly. The clink of the rings brought a sad smile to your face, barely shining through the tears.

"Goodbyes are never something we're ready for." You whispered, smiling against her lips. You leaned forwards slowly, letting your lips meet hers.

Tears mixed into the kiss, the salty taste stinging her tongue. Your lips were chapped, but so soft against hers. She sighed against you, molding herself into you. Her body rested against yours, holding you close, wishing you wouldn't leave as you slowly pulled away.

"If only you were a dream, I wouldn't feel the pain of losing you again," Maria murmured, her breath hitting your face with every word. If only you were a dream, but would this be a dream or another nightmare she can't get out of her mind?

"This is a delightful dream then." You muttered, your head resting back against the dirt. Your eyelids felt heavy, slowly blinking as you stared up at the sky. Maria moved so your head was resting in her lap, your eyes staring up at her.

"I'm lost without this dream," Maria said, her fingers stroking across your skin. Her hand in your hair, comforting you as much as she could. Death was never something she wanted for you, but she could at least provide you with a comfortable goodbye.

"Then in your dreams, I'll be lost with you." You whispered, smiling again. Your hand came up to her cheek, caressing it gently, watching her lean into your touch. It warmed your heart when she kissed the palm of your hand, more tears spilling from her cheeks.

It was a beautifully broken moment, the trance you were trapped under as you stared at Maria unbroken by anything. Apart from her wanted to yell for help, to try to save what remained of you. But it would be selfish if she saved you only to keep you close to herself.

She knew this was what you wanted, to say goodbye peacefully. But god it was killing her to watch the light slowly fade from your eyes. She made it as comfortable as possible, playing with your hair, running your fingers across her cheek. She even started singing to you, humming the tune you'd picked out for your first dance at your wedding.

Nothing could be done as you whispered how much you loved her before closing your eyes for the last time. Maria could only hope you knew how much she loved you. She could only mourn for her loss, tears falling relentlessly from her eyes without you to wipe them away.

Lost was all she felt, wandering in the darkness created by your absence, without the hope of being with you to guide her out. Oh, to be found for a treasured few minutes would be enough to last her life through. Even if she felt lost, she had her dreams in which she could find you, along with the rings which she swore she could feel you in, especially with the words you engraved.

"Lost without you."

A/N: If you're crying, please tell me in the comments and the reblogs!! If not, tell me how you feel anyway

Tag List: @capcarolsdanver​, @versdan​, @lesbian-girls-wayhaught​, @lovebotlarson​, @dhengkt​, @hstoria​, @natasha-danvers​, @veryfunnyal​, @xxxtwilightaxelxxx​ , @ophelias-heart​ , @never-didbefore​ , @justarandomhumanhere​, @the-most-unicorn-of-them-all , @thatssocamryn​ , @lesbian-x-blackwidow​ , @wlw-imaginesss​ , @hcartbyheart​​ , @summergeezburr​​ , @imnotasuperhero​ , @a-stressedstudent​ , @aaron-despair​ , @rooskaya-yelena​ , @thewitchandtheassassin​ , @wannabe-fic-reader​ , @izalesbean​, @higherfurther-romanova​ , @natalia-quinzel​ , @blackxwidowsxwife​ , @studies-styles​ , @procrastinatingsapphictrash​ let me know if you’d like to be in any of my tag lists!

[gaymershigh]

I'm so excited to find a blog who actually does Male/Gender Neutral pronouns! My request headcanons where GN!MC badly hurts their ankle during PE so individually Malleus, Vil, Leona, Jade, and Jack carrying them to the infimary. Probably mostly platonic but kinda leaning towards wanting to be more than friends?

I'm a sucker for 'platonic with some romantic elements' type of tropes so this is a big yes for me!

Triggers: none

Malleus, Vil, Leona, Jade, and Jack carrying g/n reader to the infirmary after they severely injured their ankle in PE

He knew that you're reckless and bound to injure yourself in any type of way just from how brave you are from talking to him. You called him "Tsunotarou" and you've now been chatting with him as much as you get the chance to or when he appears outside the Ramshackle dorm. Though he doesn't mind it, he knows that you should be more careful.

So when you injured your ankle, he was only shocked for a mere second. Again, it's supposed to be expected when it comes to people like you but that doesn't make him any less concerned. He ran his way towards you and that enough makes other students feel uneasy. Even if you two are closest of friends, you usually spend time without anyone there to see so you two are a very bizarre combo to the others.

He had asked you if you were ok and if you could walk again. Your ankle was sprained and your denial of being in pain almost fooled him if you didn't wince as soon as you tried to stand up. He was a fae, his ability to handle pain has far surpassed any ordinary human so he wouldn't fully understand but can still recognize that you're in a rather agonizing situation.

Malleus had no choice but to pick you up from the ground, not as he minds it but what he does mind is people not minding their own business and just stared at you two, God bless Mr.Vargas for telling them to resume the activities. There was no use if you're trying to make him put you down or get yourself down by yourself as he was way too strong, even if his grip wasn't tight at the moment.

He actually has no idea what's wrong with you, he doesn't know why you can't stand up on your own so you have to do the talking. The nurse persisted Malleus to go back to his lessons and it irritated him but you also shooed him out and told him to visit later when he's free. Very questionable as to why he's free as PE ended but you couldn't care less. He always visits you every day because of how you always manage to make him happy and his heart flutter and he is not sure as to why.

Vil always has loathed your carelessness. He has pointed it out several times and telling you to be careful but you just couldn't help but get into countless troubles and it's not helping that your best friends are intentionally and unintentionally troublemakers. He never gave up on scolding you for your careless actions as he wants his..friend to improve but it does get tiring getting angry over the same thing over and over again.

So you falling and harming your ankle until you can't even stand up without the feeling to cry was not surprising in the slightest, just like what Malleus felt. He facepalms to your recklessness before walking up to you to ask if you're ok but NOT before scolding you, telling you that your actions have consequences and other junk but you never cared enough to listen.

Once you said that you might have sprained your ankle, he dramatically sighed and called you a fool for that. Since even walking you to the infirmary was already hard for your side, he had no choice but to pick you up and asks you to stop struggling or freaking out so much like you weren't gaining enough attention from injuring yourself.

While he's used to getting attention, he doesn't like the one he's getting right now as this could end up with multiple scandals of you and him maybe dating. While he's not opposed to dating you- wait, what is he saying!? He doesn't like you that way, right? It doesn't matter is what he thought to himself at the moment as the main priority is to get your butt into the infirmary and do a three-hour lecture on why you should be careful as the scolding wasn't enough. He called out the people staring as rude and should mind their own business and to continue their PE lessons.

He got really upset when it was confirmed that your ankle injury was rather severe and not just mild as it would take about four weeks or even more to fully recover. He understood fully and left the premises as he does have a class to attend but worry not, he will visit you any free time he has. If he couldn't visit you, maybe a video call would suffice. While he wouldn't treat you like royalty, he would be softer with you as he slightly pities your condition. As you were discharged and needed to walk with a cast, meaning you will be slower than before, meaning Vil would also slow down his pacing as you are his friend! Yeah, friend..

Your recklessness was annoying but also what makes you interesting in the lion's eye. It was so entertaining to see a creature with sentience to have very little to no sense of danger. While he doesn't like the part where he gets involved but when he isn't and you're just figuring stuff by yourself is such an amazing show he could watch forever. Well, as long as you don't get seriously injured or something because truth to be told, he doesn't want you in any type of physical pain because surprise surprise, you're his pal.

So when something Leona doesn't want to happen to you happened, he mentally groaned in annoyance because he needs to get up from this comfy spot under the tree but he's still worried of course, it's just not obvious at all. People would've thought that he hated you or something when he saw him walking to where you are with a dead cold stare. When he found out that you were your cause of agony, he gave you an "Are you serious" look. He's very disappointed facial expression makes you embarrassed even more now.

He spat out a monotone "you ok" line, you thought that he was a robot for a second. You said yes and he told you to get your ass up from the grass and you obliged but failed to do so. When he saw you winced as you were trying to get your left foot standing, he knew damn well you aren't ok and gets more worried. However, his expression never changed. He sighed one more time before picking and throwing you on his shoulder in one swift. Your struggles are no use as he was stronger than you.

He glared at the people that dared to stare, especially to the ones that were whispering to one another about utter nonsense, aka stupid "are they together?" Rumors. He decided to tell the nurse what's wrong with you but it was worded so bad that you had to do it in the end anyway, making him scoffed like he just didn't say "their ankle broke or something". He refused to return to his class because it's boring but deep inside, it was because he wants to stay by your side for the entire time of your recovery.

Even if you're discharged and able to walk with a walking boot, he still stuck at your side even from afar as he doesn't want to see you do anything stupid and maybe twist your spine as he does not doubt that you're capable of doing so because of how unpredictable you are. And maybe it's also because, from all the time he has spent with you during his visiting times, something about you shined more inside him. Inside where exactly? Inside his heart.

Jade loves this recklessness you hold. It's the reason why you're so unpredictable and he loves that about you. One second you will be the smartest person in the room, the next second you almost fall off from the second floor of the school building because some of your papers were accidentally been blown by the wind. While sometimes it can be quite troubling, most of the time it's enjoyable.

But now is the times where it's not as entertaining. He did the wrong decision of not keeping his eyes off you for more than 20 minutes to focus and trying to hone his flying skills as he heard you wailed in pain somewhere not too far away. He walked his way calmly to the source of your sounds of misery and see you lying on the grass with the broom beside you, absolutely helpless. He chuckled at your deadpanned face before asking if you're ok. Whatever your answer is, he knows damn well you aren't as you were wincing a lot as you were trying your best to get up.

He offers to walk you to the infirmary and you happily oblige. Only like two or three people would stare for a few minutes as walking you there isn't an abnormal situation as they did it before as well for other injured students. Just as soon as you two reached the hallways, where nobody is around to glimpse, he picked your figure up and continue your journey to the infirmary. If you asked him why he's doing this, is because it's faster and convenient to do it this way. Also, your face got so red when he picks you up and he thinks it's adorable, making you even redder.

For real though, seeing you all blushed up is quite endearing, he might tease you even more just to see that red face again. Anyways, he perfectly explained the situation of your ankle with some condescending remarks in it. He's a very busy man so he doesn't have that much time to visit you so he wishes you to discharge as fast as soon as possible so he can see your lovely face as much as usual.

So when you do discharge, he would always accompany you to wherever you're going if he's not doing that already. No matter if you need a cast or not, he would always treat you like a patient or even more, like royalty. He believes that he should make it up for not being able to visit, especially since you're always complaining to him how boring it was staying in the infirmary bed for four weeks. He can even get you red with this little special treatment, so why not go for it? It even secretly makes his heartbeat fast as well.

Jack hates people who do not think before doing their actions and you are no exception. Nobody knows how you guys got to be friends to begin because it feels so impossible. Maybe because you two were paired up for an alchemy class project? But he still sticks with you for more than eight months already. Maybe he likes you? Or he's like your low-key guardian? Yes, the latter is the second but the first one could be a possibility, who knows.

That's why he gets more irritated when your recklessness is the cause of your distress. He could take it as your punishment for being so careless and take this as a lesson but knowing you, that will never happen so that gets him even more irritated. He runs up to you and scolds you for a few minutes about why you should be careful and such, it's surprising how he's so calm despite how many times he has scolded you about the same thing. After that useless scolding, he finally asked if you were alright or not. He scoffed when you lied about your ankle injury and have no choice but to pick you up from the grass.

Why would you even try to make him drop you off? It doesn't matter how much you annoy him on the way to the infirmary. If someone's injured he takes thing seriously, especially if it's his totally platonic mate that was in pain no matter how severe it is. He would get rather defensive and would throw hands with people who are saying things that maybe your relationship is more than friends so, please remind him that you're injured and your health is something he shouldn't be easily distracted and fight people who don't know how to mind their business, even though you might not care for your ankle yourself.

You kinda did not tell him what's wrong with you nor did he even asked in the first place so you'll do the talking. He got pretty surprised when you told the nurse you have an ankle injury, even more, astonished when that it's in a severe category now. He didn't like that you were taking your conditions lightly and joking about it too. He's a good boy, so he would follow the nurse's orders to leave to resume his lessons. Just like Vil and Jade, he wouldn't visit you every day as he still needs to prioritize his school life and such. Though, he might cut a tiny bit of his workout schedule to visit you until you discharge.

So when you do discharge no matter if you need a walking boot or a cast or just nothing, he will keep his eyes on you more frequently as he doesn't want to see you do some dumb stunt and hurt yourself again. He would make your stay in the Savanaclaw areas close to him and let you do whatever you want while he works out. As long as you stay nearby and don't wander off. I repeat, he doesn't want his probably future lifelong mate to have a single scratch on their face.

OMG!!!!! I FINALLY FINISHED A FIC DESPITE GETTING ALWAYS DISTRACTED!!! I'M SOOOOO HAPPY!!!!! 😭💜✨✨

~𝕸𝖎𝖗𝖎

[creepercraftguy]

I decided I wanted to try one of those DR Ask meme’s, but I decided to do it a little differently and I’m just gonna answer all the questions.

This one is made by @muzumi-san but I didn’t repost theirs because I don’t want them to directly see my shitty opinions.

1. Favourite game?

Danganronpa 2: Goodbye Despair. It just had the best characters, best plot twists and best trials in my opinion.

2. Favourite Protagonist?

It depends. If it’s in terms of writing, Shuichi. Otherwise, it’s either Hajime, or Kaede.

3. Favourite antagonistic character?

Kokichi is my favorite in general of the three, but as an antagonist, I like Nagito more.

4. Favourite character?

Kokichi Ouma. I know, he’s a fan favorite and you’re probably sick of hearing him get talked about, but dude, he’s just great.

5. Best girl?

Mahiru Koizumi.

6. Best boy?

Gonta Gokuhara or Gundham Tanaka.

7. Favourite class trial from all the games?

For Game 1, it’s Case 2. I love the twists and use of the Red Herring aspect in regards to the locker room. For Game 2, Case 4 is my favourite, but Case 5 is the better one in terms of mystery. For Game 3, Case 4. The fact you have to rely on video game logic to solve the case is really neat.

8. Least favourite character?

Without a doubt, Yasuhiro Hagakure, for several reasons that I’ve stated previously.

9. Least favourite class trial?

Game 3, Case 3. That whole case was just bullshit after Bullshit.

10. What would be your Ultimate Title?

Ultimate Animator, like Mitarai, but you know...Better.

11. Favourite cast?

As I’ve already mentioned, Danganronpa 2. My least favorite member of that cast is Akane, but even her, and the more disliked characters like Teruteru and Hiyoko, I love all of them. They’re all great.

12. Favourite Danganronpa 3 character?

Seiko Kimura. She’s such a fun character who I think deserved better.

13. What’s your opinion on the Danganronpa 3 anime?

I fucking hate it. The only episodes of it that I actually consider to be good, are the first two episodes of Despair Arc, and the final episode. The characters and cast genuinely piss me off half the time, especially Juzo, Munakata and Ruruka, and the writing was just generally shit throughout the entire thing.

14. What do you think about Danganonpa 1 anime?

I actually think it’s alright. Video Game anime’s tend to not be as good as the games (unless it’s Persona 4′s animation, which was actually awesome) and the same goes for Danganronpa. The game is generally more enjoyable than the anime, but the anime wasn’t bad all things considered.

15. Your absolute OTP?

SAI-MAT-SU! SAI-MAT-SU! SHIP-THAT-GETS-SHIT-ON-TOO-MUCH! SAI-MAT-SU! SAI-MAT-SU!

16. Your absolute BROTP?

I guess Sakuraoi? I get why people ship them, but Sakura is one of the characters who canonically has a boyfriend, and I just think they make really good friends other than girlfriends. No disrespect for anyone who likes them together though.

17. Do you have an OT3? Which one?

I’m not crazy about my OT3′s, since they’re mostly two characters who are romantically involved, with a third wheel/wingman on the side, but yes, I do have at least one for each game. For the first game, it’s Chishimondo (Taka, Mondo and Chihiro) for the second game it’s Sonsoudam (Sonia, Gundham and Kazuichi) and the third game, it’s Tenhimiangie (Tenko, Himiko and Angie)

18. Favourite rare ship?

There’s a ship I like called Nagiseiko or Komamura, which is Nagito Komaeda x Seiko Kimura.

19. Who do you think is an underrated character?

There are quite a few, like Nekomaru and Mahiru for instance, but I absolutely have to say Mondo. He has arguably some of the best characterization among the DR1 cast, and he’s my favorite killer in the first game purely because of his backstory and motive, and how he reflects upon the second case’s whole theme, and yet nobody seemed to focus on that importance. God Speed, you wonderful JoJo reference.

20. Who do you think is an overrated character?

Please don’t hurt me when I say this, but absolutely Chiaki. Many can chew me out for liking Kokichi, who in himself is overrated, but for a deuteragonist, Chiaki really doesn’t do an awful lot until Chapter 4-5

21. Favourite voice actor?

In terms of performance, either Derek Stephen Prince (Fuyuhiko and Kokichi) or Marieve Herington (Celeste)

22. Favourite talent?

Ultimate Detective. Shuichi and Kyoko are both really cool.

23. Favourite mascot?

Monokuma, duh! Compared to Monomi and the Monokubs, neither of them have shit on him.

24. Favourite Monokub?

1000% Monodam. All of them suck, except for him. (And Monotaro’s fine for the most part, but Monodam will always be the best)

25. Least favourite mascot?

Mono-fucking-phanie.

26. Favourite execution?

Leon Kuwata’s, the 1000 Blows. As they say, you never forget your first.

27. Least favourite execution?

Mikan Tsumiki’s, Bye Bye Ouchies. For reasons I don’t think I even need to state.

28. Favourite unused execution?

I really like Kazuichi’s unused execution that involves the drill.

29. Which character should survived in your opinion?

If we’re talking characters I wanted to survive, then I would’ve loved to see Chihiro make it to the end of DR1. As much as I love the importance of his passing, I really wanted him to get out alive and unscathed.

30. Which character would’ve deserved to survive?

In each game, there’s at least one character I think should’ve deserved to make it out alive. For the first game, it’s absolutely Taka, for the second, Hiyoko, even though I’m not strong on her, and for the third game, Ryoma, for the same reason everyone else thinks he should’ve lived.

31. Is there a character you think who shouldn’t have survived but did?

Yasuhiro did basically nothing to contribute to the class trials, or the overall progress in figuring out the mysteries of the academy. He never pulled his weight, and for some reason, he still managed to live through the killing game.

32. Least favourite protagonist?

I love her, but Komaru. She just doesn’t reach the same level as the others.

33. Character with the best clothing?

Celeste absolutely nails the gothic lolita style and it fits really well with the type of character that she is.

34. Best character design?

Gundham and Celeste.

35. A character who should’ve got more character development?

Kirumi, without question. She’s arguably my least favorite in the V3 gang purely because of her lack of development. She deserved better writing than what she got.

36. Character who looks amazing but you don’t like?

I love Ruruka’s design, but I hate Ruruka’s character. The same goes for Sonosuke Izayoi, who looks badass but got no development.

37. Favourite minor character?

For the little screen time he got, I vibe with Taichi Fujisaki.

38. Favourite eyes?

What? Uh...no preference?

39. Smartest murder plan?

Gundham’s plan in the 4th case of the 2nd game. He used pretty much every aspect of the funhouse to pull his plan off, and I love it.

40. Favourite culprit?

Gundham Tanaka, for what I’ve just mentioned, plus his motivation, and overall character.

41. Person you’ve never expected to become a culprit but they became? (Doesn’t include Chiaki)

I guess Mondo, Peko and Kiyo from each of the games. They all exude the energy that they COULD kill someone, but the chances of them actually doing it don’t seem that high, and yet...

42. Honest opinion on Tsumugi Shirogane?

I thought she was boring character at first, even after she was revealed to be the mastermind, but I’ve come around since then and I respect her as a villain a lot more. Being the only villain in the game who’s not directly tied to Junko, that at least gives her a bit of uniqueness.

43. Describe Monaca Towa in 3 words!

Piss Baby UGH!

44. Describe Nagito Komaeda in 3 words!

Extremely Entertaining Character

45. Unpopular opinion?

I think Hifumi Yamada is a pretty decent character overall. His Free Time Events, while awkward, were quite enjoyable, and he conveys the strong message that appearances aren’t everything. He’s aware of how different he looks compared to everyone else, but to him, it’s what’s on the inside and what he can do that matters.

46. Unpopular headcanon?

I don’t really have many major headcanons, and I have none that I would consider unpopular. I guess I’ll say “The V3 cast have a group chat in a Non-Despair AU that they meme the shit out of.”

47. A headcanon you have about a character?

In the ask blog that I run, Mikan and Ibuki are an item, and after they become one, Mikan discards her bandages and dyes a highlight in her hair. I live for that, so I guess that’s my answer.

48. Favourite OST?

If we’re talking about a game soundtrack, then either Danganronpa 2′s, or Ultra Despair Girl. If we’re talking about my favourite song in the whole series though, then my favourite is the opening theme to Future Arc in DR3, Dead or Lie.

49. Favourite mini game?

I don’t really have one. I have minigames that I like, and Minigames that I hate (looking at you “Improved” Hangman’s Gambit) But I guess I like Scrum Debate in concept a lot.

50. Favourite game design?

V3 is the most aesthetically pleasing DR game.

51. Character you thought you were gonna dislike but loved in the end?

Maki was such a piece of shit in my opinion at the beginning of V3. Of course, the development she gets reprimands that amazingly. I WOULD say Tenko, but I hated Tenko when I finished V3, and it was only after a short time later that I really turned around on her.

52. Character you thought you would like but disliked in the end?

I guess Angie? She was pretty annoying even before I outright disliked her, but then the whole third chapter brainwashing thing happened and I’m like, “this bitch suck for real!”

53. Favourite game end?

Danganronpa 2′s, and I don’t wanna hear all the “Ugh, the anime bullshit, ugh!” From a writing perspective, the second game just had the most enjoyable ending.

54. Least favourite game end?

I guess Danganronpa 1′s but even that wasn’t too bad. I have incredibly mixed feelings about V3′s twist ending, but I’ve grown to accept that it happened and there’s not a lot I can do about it...

55. Favourite love hotel scene?

Kaede’s. J-Just Kaede’s...That scene gives me the right amount of serotonin that I can keep going with my day.

56. Best free time events?

Hard to say, but I really liked Taka’s. Most of the FTE’s in Danganronpa tend to be pretty nice (unless you’re Hiro), but for him, I loved learning about the circumstances behind his family, how it corrolates with why he acts the way he does, his spite against people who call themselves “geniuses” and why they suck, and everything about his character just hits right.

57. Character who should’ve lived longer?

Kirumi or Ryoma.

58. V3 Pregame! headcanon?

“They aren’t evil creatures with a pessimistic look on life!” Seriously, why the hell do people headcanon the pre-game V3 cast as evil and masochistic bastards. Sure, their look on life was very cynical and pessimistic, and some of them wanted to join V3 for the money or the fame, but that’s just basic human nature and desire. That doesn’t mean everyone in V3 was an inherently bad person before they joined Danganronpa. They aren’t the remnants of despair for fucks sake.

59. Favourite moment?

Shuichi’s final stand in V3 really showed his growth in character, and his refutation “WE’RE GONNA END DANGANRONPA!” gave me goosebumps.

60. Saddest moment?

Gundham’s Execution made me cry, and I almost shed tears in Peko’s final moments. My answer therefore, is those two.

61. Character who looks like the love child of ???

Shuichi has always looked like the love child of Makoto and Kyoko or Makoto and Mukuro. I don’t have any parental headcanons though, and prefer to think of Shuichi as his own character.

62. Describe Mikan Tsumiki in 3 words!

Needs Love Mending! She’s an emotionally broken girl who needs love to heal her fragile heart.

63. Describe Kyoko Kirigiri in 3 words!

The Best Deuteragonist. By that, I mean out of all the characters who are most relevant to the plot alongside the protagonist and antagonist (which includes Chiaki and I guess Kaito too) Kyoko is the best one in my opinion.

64. Which character seemed like they were gonna be a culprit but they wasn’t?

I honestly expected Sonia to kill someone several times in DR2, but she ended up making it to the end. I’m not disappointed though, and I’m glad she never ended up snapping.

65. Who did you never expected to die but they died?

Kaede, no doubt about it. C’mon, she was set up to be the protagonist and then she got executed falsely. Rantaro also surprised me honestly, as did Fake Togami in Game 2.

66. Describe the last trial from V3 in 3 words!

An Absolute Clusterfuck. Not the bad kind, mind you, but Jesus, that trial was long and confusing.

67. Which character would you never want to meet in real life?

There are several honestly, but I’m gonna narrow it down and say Junko. Anyone who meets her is doomed to have their life ruined.

68. Which character would you like to meet in real life?

I relate to most of the weeb and dorky characters, so I guess either Hifumi or Non-Evil Tsumugi.

69. Choose one character which you would take with you on a trip.

Mikan would be handy to have around in case I get injured while on a hike or something.

70. Character you would have a sleepover with?

I don’t feel any sort of attraction to her romantically, and I tend not to for fictional characters, but Kaede is someone I’d really want to hang out and be friends with.

71. Character you can relate to?

Makoto, and I know that’s the whole point of his character, but even though he’s kind of basic and lacking in any significant personality, I still like him a lot.

72. Character you can relate to but you dislike them?

I sympathize with Kiyo’s plight, and how he suffered a lot of emotional abuse from his sister, but with his final moments and how much bullshit came from it (particularly the implied incest subplot) I just couldn’t feel anything except eagerness when I watched him die.

73. Character who deserved better?

Than what they got, I guess Taka.

74. What do you think of Hiyoko Saionji?

If she had survived the game, she’d have been recognized as great a character as Fuyuhiko, since she would have had time to develop. Unfortunately, her lack of growth thanks to her death relegates her into just being “that bitch from Danganronpa” In general though, I don’t dislike her at all, I’m just not as strong on her as I am the rest of DR2′s cast, or DR’s cast in general.

75. Describe Gonta Gokuhara in 3 words!

The Best Boy.

76. Favourite research lab?

The research labs are a cool concept that I really wanted to see more of in things like Fangans. I think my favorite is either Shuichi’s or Kokichi’s.

77. What do you think of the fandom?

Honest to god, I feel more comfortable in the DR Fandom than I do any other Fandom I’m a part of. We have cringe, toxicity and the same old jokes, yes, but other Fandom’s I’m in, like Persona and My Hero Academia, have the same on a whole other level. I think the majority of the Danganronpa Fandom truly does genuinely care about the game series and I appreciate that.

78. Favourite random/unnecessary scene?

The Man’s Nut scene in Danganronpa 2 was god damn hilarious. I never ever really thought the Peeping Tom scenes in each game were wholly necessary and just existed as cheap fanservice, but the Man’s Nut scene is SO damn funny!

79. Which character has the cutest design?

Chihiro is the most adorable bean in the universe.

80. Hope or Despair?

I have no real preference, but I choose Hope because I like to think I’m not a bad person.

81. Could you be the Ultimate Lucky Student?

Probably not. I dunno.

82. Favourite chapter?

DR2 Chapter 4. The funhouse chapter hit differently.

83. Least favourite chapter?

DR2 Chapter 3 and DRV3 Chapter 3. The former primarily due to the Despair Disease and Nekomaru’s death at the hands of Akane’s stupidity, and the latter because of reasons I’ve already mentioned, particularly Angie’s Student Council.

84. Which character do you easily forget?

Pretty much half the Danganronpa 3 cast. Particularly Tengan, Izayoi, Gozu and Bandai.

85. Could you be a Dangan Protag? Why?

I’d love to be, but I’m not as quick-witted or inquisitive as the likes of Makoto, Hajime and Shuichi.

86. Favourite Anthology chapter?

I like a lot of them, but the one where they all make chocolate is really cute.

87. Describe Peko Pekoyama in 3 words!

She’s pretty cool. There’s not much to say about her. Even if she is the one who killed Mahiru, a character I love, she’s a lot more important to the plot than many realize, especially in regards to Fuyuhiko’s subplot.

88. Describe Mondo Oowada in 3 words!

Completely Underrated Marvel. Just refer to Question 19.

89. Least favourite Danganronpa 3 character?

Pretty much any of them that aren’t Seiko, Ryota, or Yukizome. I’m gonna say Juzo though, because of his whole bullshit that Junko used against him, and how the tragedy is primarily his fault.

90. Do you like Junko?

Not at first, but I like her a lot more as a villain now. She wasn’t that fun in the first game, but was better in the second.

91. What do you think of Monokuma?

As far as game mascots go, he’s alright, however, the more the series goes on, the less relevant he becomes. In V3, he serves no real importance, and the game may have been just as good without him, leaving us with just the Monokubs. I hate the Monokubs, but that’s primarily because their existence just takes Monokuma’s importance away. V3 would be so much better if we had one without the other, either way around.

92. Least favourite Monokub?

*Heavy breathing* Mono... *Heavy breathing* Fucking... *HEAVY BREATHING* PHANIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEE!

93. Did you like the Monokubs?

Not for the most part. Monophanie and Monokid suck, and I hate them both. Monosuke sucks for similar reasons, but he’s just kinda...boring...Up until the whole incest imagery in Chapter 4′s trial, Monotaro was actually ok, and had some really funny lines, and as I’ve mentioned, I love Monodam a whole lot, since he was the only one who had something close to a character arc.

94. Did you like the Warriors of Hope?

I guess? I do feel bad for most of them, but at the same time, they can be really annoying. They ARE just kids, so I get it, but still. Masaru, I really didn’t care for. He was arguably the most annoying, and Jataro, while I felt bad for him, wasn’t much better. Kotoko was pretty fun in the end, and Nagisa was a really well written character with a strong morality to him. Monaca is a pretty sinister villain too, but I don’t like her as much as Junko and Tsumugi.

95. What do you think of Gundham Tanaka?

HE IS EXCELLENT AND I LOVE HIM SO MUCH! Also, as I’m writing this, it’s his Bday, so happy Bday to Gundham Tanaka.

96. Who’s an overrated character you dislike?

I said Chiaki was overrated, but I don’t dislike her. I guess people like Kirumi too much considering how little development she gets overall.

97. Overrated ship which is your NOTP?

Komahina, do not test me on this. Everywhere I go, I see that ship that I know, from analyzing Nagito and Hajime’s relationship throughout the series, is incredibly toxic and would never realistically happen simply due to Nagito’s nature, and the way his FTE’s end means nothing to me.

98. Outfit you dislike?

Everyone’s always saying that Akane’s design sucks, and while I’m not too concerned on it overall, I do completely agree.

99. Your absolute NOTP?

Komahina again, and I guess JunkoMikan.

100. Opinion on all the Protagonists!

Makoto is relatable as hell, and I sympethise with him a lot. It’s quite fun to play as him in the first game, because he reacts more regularly to the characters in a way that most people probably would. I love Hajime’s reactions, and his backstory. I’m not too fond on most of the memes around him, like Organe Juice and the 91cm Titties, but in general, his reactions to things and the way he tends to call out his classmates is pretty entertaining. As I mentioned, Komaru, and I guess Toko, are my least favorite protagonist(s) but I still care about them both greatly. Komaru is as relatable as her brother, and UDG gives Toko the character development she so greatly needed in Game 1. Kaede is amazing, and is a character who gets too cussed out by people both in the game, and outside of it, and her death was super relevant, and an amazing twist I didn’t see coming. She’s just awesome in general. Shuichi, while Kaede’s death did upset me, he was an equally great protagonist, and I loved watching his growth throughout V3.

[theskyeandsea]

Food For Thought || Agatha & Skylar

Timing: Backdated to Monday September 14th

Location: Coffee Plus

Tagging: @detective-keen & @theskyeandsea

Summary: After the events at Pat’s Place, Agatha invites Skylar to Coffee Plus, trying to get to the bottom of what happened there.

Warnings: Mass Poisoning mentions, food poisoning mentions

Part of her job following the incident at Pat’s place was to contact each and everyone who was invited, and see if they could tell her anything about those events. Having been there herself, Agatha figured that it was her place to do those, even if she already had a lot of things on her plate. Oh well, a little bit more wouldn’t kill her, and she was used to doing more things than others and still being far from respected by her peers. 

She had chosen coffee plus to meet Skylar. At this time of the year, it was free of students, and she would be able to get their great coffee with their acceptable banana muffins. Sitting in a corner, far from the front door or the counter, Agatha had started to organize herself. Everything neatly positioned before her, she leaned back into her chair and took a sip of coffee as she waited for the other woman to arrive. 

When Skylar had first received the message from Agatha about what had occured at Pat’s, she’d been more than a little startled by it. She hadn’t been among the people who’d been poisoned, she’d only been able to watch in horror as the people around them had fallen to the ground, gasping for air. Shaking the memory from her head, Skylar entered the coffee shop and looked around, wondering where the police officer who’d contacted her would be. To her surprise, she recognized the woman-- she’d been at Pat’s too, right? Talking to Morgan? Walking up to the table, she offered a small wave. “Hi-- Detective Keen, right? I’m Skylar. Sorry for keeping you, I didn’t mean to be late.” She said sheepishly. 

“Not at all,” she was about to hold out her hand to shake Skylar’s but apparently waves were the way. Waving back, she smiled at her and nodded. “You can call me Agatha if you prefer,” there was no need to be formal. All she wanted was for the both of us to feel comfortable. People chatted more then. “No harm done, don’t worry,” she assured her, adjusting her chair closer to the table. “Perhaps you would like to order coffee, or anything?” Opening her notebook, and picking up a fancy teal fountain pen, she looked at Skylar. “I just need to hear about what happened that night, your version of it, at least,” she didn’t suppose that it would change from the other versions, but maybe a detail would make her tick. “If there’s anything you found weird, any details…” 

“Agatha. Nice to meet you.” Skylar said politely as she glanced over to the counter. The barista behind the bar had already noticed her walk in and had cast an amused look in her direction-- she really did come here too often, didn’t she? As they held up an empty mug with a questioning expression on their face, Skylar shook her head. The prospect of talking with a detective made her nervous enough, even if she wasn’t involved in what had happened at Pat’s. She didn’t need coffee jitters on top of that. “Oh, no, I’m good, thanks.” She said before settling down across from the woman. Her fingers drummed lightly against her leg as she listened to the woman speak, doing her best to keep track of everything. “Um, okay. So, I’d seen a flyer around town advertising that there was a special going on, and I thought it might be a good time to check out Pat’s. When I got there, I didn’t really notice anything out of the ordinary? I mean, there was a strange woman there, but I think she was just strange in a quirky kind of way.” Skylar said, shrugging. Norma? Had that been her name? “I think her name’s Norma?”

“Alright,” Agatha’s eyebrows raised in surprise, but she did not say a thing, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear before she started to take notes of what Skylar was saying. Much like the rest of them, she had ended up in this place through a flyer. Agatha herself ended up at Pat’s with the same flyer. Those did not seem to be really relevant, aside from being the reason most showed up. What she wondered was, whether some had those fliers end up directly in their mailbox. “I must agree with you here, I was there, and everything seemed normal. The food was pretty great, don’t you agree?” She shook her head. This was a shame, and she was hoping that she could prove that the owners were not at fault. A selfish part of her just wanted the place to reopen, and while it wasn’t her priority, it was still a thought that was very present. “Norma…” She had a look at the list of people present and raised an eyebrow. Norma Lee. Really?! What kind of pseudonym was that? “I see. I don’t suppose you know more about this person?” 

Still a little nervous about the whole situation, Skylar’s hands began to fingerspell small words against her leg, detective, diner, investigation. She swallowed and did her best to focus on the woman sitting across from her. “Mmm, yeah, the food was nice. I, um, I didn’t really eat too much, just because I noticed that things were going downhill pretty quickly.” She said with a nod. As the detective-- Agatha-- asked her more about the strange woman who’d briefly talked to her, Skylar wracked her brain for information. She wanted to help, she really did. But, she hadn’t said much to the woman. “Um, I think she said she worked at another restaurant? And was scouting out the competition?” Squinting, she tried to remember the specifics. “Sorry, it had been a little loud when I was there, it’s sometimes hard for me to remember things when it’s not clear. But, I think she said something about that pirate restaurant in town? I think she works there.”

“I see,” Agatha didn’t tell Skylar that she, in the little time she was there, had had the time to try a lot of the options available, because it was not relevant, and because she sometimes could get a bit ashamed of her terrible table manners. Her cheeks turned into a pale shade of red as she thought about it, and she had to clear her throat and take a sip of coffee. Way to make a fool of yourself, she thought. “Ahem. Okay, that’s very helpful, thanks.” She wrote that down, and actually beamed as Skylar explained that Mrs.Lee worked at the Bottomless Booty. Still, something caught her attention, and she could not help but have a glance at the other woman’s ears. “Too much noise makes it hard for you to understand a conversation, is what you’re saying?” While it could also happen to most people, Agatha could understand that this was making hearing, or rather understanding impossible for Skylar. “You are being very helpful, don’t worry,” she promised, offering her kindest smile. Anything that was relevant was helpful, and she did not want the young woman to feel like she wasn’t being helpful.

Skylar caught sight of the way the detective’s cheeks warmed slightly and felt bad-- she hadn’t meant to say something that made the woman uncomfortable or self conscious. She just… she remembered being there and noticing that there were people dropping to the ground around her. That sort of thing had made it hard for her to do anything other than to run to her friends, to see if they were okay. “ Mhm, of course.” She nodded. As the woman asked what she meant, Skylar slid her hair back from her ears, showing her the hearing aids. “Mhm, I’m hard of hearing. My hearing aids, they help me, but it’s hard for me to parse things clearly when I’m in a big crowd. I can read lips, though, and that helps me catch things too.” She said, pushing her hair back in place. “I know what I heard though, I’m sure that she mentioned she worked at the pirate restaurant.”

“Oh alright,” she tilted her head a little to get a better look without having to lean forward and look like an ass. “Does it ever get uncomfortable?” Maybe it was like glasses, and you just ended up forgetting they were here after a while. Maybe not. Either way, she was interested in those. “Feel free to ignore my questions, you must get those all the time,” she gave a kind smile and nodded. It made sense that ambient noise could make things harder, and so, she was really glad that Pat’s place’s noise didn’t prevent the young woman from understanding whatever it was Mrs.Lee said. “I’ll pay that woman a visit then. She might have things to say too,” or maybe it would be a dead end, again. Her job could certainly get frustrating. “Okay,” Agatha nodded, “Was there anything else you saw there?” She glanced away from Skylar, fidgeting with the bandage on her palm. Earlier that day, she had managed to cut herself while trying to cut through leather with the wrong scissors. As much as she liked making costumes, she truly hated the amount of times it meant getting blisters and cuts. 

At the woman’s question, Skylar offered a slight shrug. Her hearing aids always hurt, but it was just part of wearing them. They sat heavily on her ears and the mold that sat in her ear wasn’t the most comfortable thing in the world. But, that was just how they were. It was better than wandering around in a haze that she couldn’t quite make out. “A little. But, that’s just how it is sometimes.” She nodded. When Agatha said she’d talk to Norma about things, a slight bit of alarm went through Skylar. “I-- not that this matters much, particularly if you’re going to be visiting her for yourself, but… I don’t think she had anything to do with it? She just seemed… normal odd. Not, poison everyone in the diner odd.” Skylar said. She wasn’t sure why she was defending this complete stranger, but… it didn’t seem fair if the other woman was going to have her actions scrutinized. “Mmm, no, not really. In the panic, there was just too much going on. It was hard to stay focused through it all.”

“... Skylar,” her eyebrows quirked up, and she couldn’t help a witty smile. “I need to talk to everyone who was there, she was going to get questioned either way,” her shoulders shot up with amusement. “I wouldn’t worry about her. If she is not involved with this, she truly has nothing to fear from me,” she promised. Grabbing her cup of coffee, Agatha glanced around the room. This place was really quiet at this time of the day, she thought. “That’s alright. There were a lot of people there,” she assured, “which also means that I can ask a lot of people what they saw,” Agatha didn’t want Skylar to feel bad for not knowing more, or being able to tell more, but sometimes you couldn’t control how others felt. “Those investigations take time, but with so many people present, I’m sure this will lead somewhere,” the thing was, it could lead her everywhere and nowhere all at once, but she didn’t tell Skylar about that. “Alright, I think I’m good then,” her face warmed up and she cleared her throat. “Again, I hope it’s okay to ask, but do you, by any chance, teach ASL ? Or would be willing to?” She mumbled the last bit and looked away. Asking for things was not really her forte.

“I… You’re right-- sorry.” Skylar said, immediately embarrassed. She didn’t mean to tell Agatha how to do her job, but still. She didn’t want people to get in trouble for no reason. But, the woman had a point. If she didn’t have anything to do with this, then it would all be okay. And if it wasn’t? Well, then Skylar had done the right thing. She was doing her best, to try and help. In whatever way she could, that’s what she wanted to do. She just wanted to help. As the detective finished up the questions, Skylar felt some of the tension fade from her shoulders. Just talking to a police officer made her really nervous, even if she hadn’t done anything. As the subject turned to ASL, Skylar blinked in surprise. ASL? Agatha… Oh! The dots came together-- this was the same woman who had asked her about lessons months ago. “Oh! Um, yes! Of course! Sorry, I, um, I didn’t realize you’d been the one who’d asked me about ASL lessons.”

“There is no need to be sorry,” she offered a kind smile and leaning back into her seat, grabbed her cup to help her swallow the piece of donut she had just put in her mouth. Just like there was no need to be sorry, Agatha felt like there was no need to worry here, but it was not her place to say. That woman was probably already stressed enough for talking to a police officer. Most people were, even though they never did anything unlawful in their entire life, and so, it felt nice to see that worried look leave room for something more positive, or maybe more neutral. “I… Yes, that would have been me. That was ages ago, don’t worry about it,” people had busy lives, she certainly had a busy life, and it was only now that she remembered mentioning ASL to Skylar then. “I mean, if you want, I don’t want to sound weird, or to impose, you know,” scratching at the back of her neck, she pursed her lips. Now was her time to feel a little bit worried. She didn’t really handle rejection too well after all. She was used to it, and she wouldn’t react, but still. 

“Still, I should have kept it on my radar. I’m usually better about following up on these sort of things.” Skylar said with a shake of her head. Sure, she’d had… a lot on her mind, but she hated that it came at the cost of helping out other people. That was the whole reason why she was in her job-- she wanted to help people. She wanted to help the Deaf community communicate with others, to make their voices heard, to be a part of bridging the gap between them. How could she do that if she wasn’t actively trying? She needed to… be better. To do better. Filled with resolve, Skylar glanced at the watch on her wrist, “Oh, no, please. You’re not imposing at all. If you have time, I could show you a couple signs right now? Just to give you an idea of what it’s like?” She asked, signing as she spoke. 

“You’re forgiven,” she gave the woman a amused wink, and brought her coffee to her mouth once again, finishing the cup. She wondered what was going on in Skylar’s head, for she looked like she was really upset about this. Maybe, Agatha hoped, her forgiveness would help Skylar feel better about herself. “Alright, great,” she nodded, showing her enthusiasm. However, as Skylar started to sign, the detective looked nothing but puzzled, and hypnotized. It felt as if she was trying to read foreign subtitles instead of listening to what the actors were saying in English. Skylar could have been saying anything that the detective wouldn’t have understood a thing. “What did you just say?” She asked with a genuinely interested smile. Raising her hands, she rotated her wrists several times, “f-y-i , this is the only sign I know so far. Perhaps I should start with greetings or… spelling names?” She offered, obviously eager now. She couldn’t tell if the other woman was enthusiastic about this, but she was thrilled.

At the woman’s words, some of the tension eased from Skylar’s shoulders and she nodded. The way Agatha watched her sign was a good thing-- most people who at least found it interesting to look at tended to do well. And, it seemed that she was honest about it. At Agatha’s words, Skylar nodded with a soft smile. This was her comfort zone, this was something she could do easily, something that felt like breathing with how second nature it was. She could teach Agatha ASL. “Yeah! That sounds like a good start. Why don’t we begin with the alphabet? I can show you how to spell your name,” She said. Settling into her chair, Skylar began to work her way through the alphabet. Maybe it wasn’t much, but this was something that she could do. This was something she knew she could do and that could help others. And maybe, one day, she’d be able to do more. 

[wirewitchviolet]

Abuse I’ve just had to sit with forever

Right now I can’t look anywhere without seeing people speaking up about abusive monsters in various positions of power and it’s really triggering a lot of PTSD for me about all the times I’ve been in positions like that where nobody has ever listened or tried to help so... I’m just going to rattle off all the ones that come to my head, anonymously, and I don’t know, if anyone who knows me wants to ask me about any of these and/or try to really do something to help, maybe come talk to me about it through whatever private channel we talk in sometimes.

Family stuff. There’s a lot, and there’s no real way to talk about any of it anonymously because I mean being members of my family it’s already narrowed down way too much.

Someone once put me in the temporary care of a woman who savagely beat me because her own children were making too much noise when they should have been asleep. Bad enough that when I went back to school I was almost ripped out of my home by child protective services on the assumption that’s where it happened. Oh and she also force-fed me rotten food with maggots in it. I ended up pretty sick as a result, lost a whole lot of weight, and ended up with a serious eating disorder that’s plagued me since. I did eventually get out of there but I don’t know that I’ve ever really conveyed the full extend of it.

One of that woman’s children had some sort of torture kink, very nearly killed me, did put me in the hospital from injuries, and might have raped me. Hard to say because I was like... 7? Hard to translate those memories now that I have the context and vocabulary. I tried to explain that to anyone who’d listen at the time but, again, I didn’t have the vocabulary and I don’t think it came across that like... ropes and tools were involved, not just fists. Never got into that with therapists, because the first one I had really loved playing gatekeeper with trans stuff and liked the “maybe you just think you’re a girl because of abuse as a child” line of thinking too much already. I think I heard he eventually landed in prison though, so that’s something?

The first job I ever had. Games website. I was too young to be working but nobody ever thought to ask about it, and my family needed the extra income to avoid homelessness besides. The owner of the site... was really into open sexual roleplay in workplace text chats. I was so young and weirdly sheltered that I didn’t even process that that was even a thing, and 90% of it went straight over my head, plus I was in a weird state at the time with the whole trans thing where oh yeah, if anyone’s doing any roleplaying stuff on the internet, I’ll be in the character of me-but-a-girl but everything is pretend here right? So... there was a whole lot of mounting and thrusting being described and it took a few years to sink in that that was not in fact about him pretending to be a knight with me as a horse or something. And there was also a lot of... failing to pay me for years of backbreaking work, outright stealing from me, and I mean, I was up until like 4 AM every night working while still in high school. So, yeah. that was a lot. Never told anybody about any of this. So far as I know he still runs the site and nobody’s ever confronted him about anything.

Used to try to play various RPGs with some people in this extra niche-y game space. Sort of the first place I was ever read as a woman without offering anyone “corrections.” And... there was just this one guy who whenever he was GMing had some weird creative excuse for my character (usually the only woman in the party) to... be raped and/or impregnated just all of the sudden and totally out of left field. Which everyone was OK with somehow. And when he wasn’t GMing he was all over my character of course. Never really spoke up to anyone. I just left one day.

Ended up... in the inner circle of someone very famous. Mostly famous for being a victim of abuse. Which is why I ignored... every single red flag there is that someone is an abusive person and taking advantage of everyone around them. They controlled every aspect of my life for years. Had me do a whole lot of work for them, place myself in real physical and psychological danger, regularly. Directly asked me to severe ties with most people in my life. Install kill-switch sortware on my laptop for their piece of mind that none of our conversations would ever be seen by anyone, while also making me talk only in privately managed chat services where they logged everything and my screen wiped at regular intervals, and insisting I use an untraceable alias in it. All of this I was constantly assured was for my own safety as much as theirs, somehow, and that I was their most valued friend who they would keep safe, start paying a huge salary to soon, as well as help secure me a safe place to live and get properly started on medical transition stuff that I was unable to do in the increasingly unsafe place I was living at the time. I could keep going with this, but again, I don’t want anyone playing guessing games. Eventually, as serial abusers do, this person got sick of me, cast me out, and said presumably unspeakable things about me to everyone in that social circle, because everyone quite promptly cut all ties to me without a word. I once mentioned some small fraction of this publicly in defense of... multiple people attempting suicide as a result of this person’s abuse, and it was made very, very clear to me that this is not someone I will ever be able to safely speak about in public.

Another person who is very famous, with ties to abuse prevention stuff, added me to a blacklist to kill my career prospects and then kinda put a hit out on me on a neo-nazi website, but I’ve written about that incident. Nothing happened as a result of speaking out aside from the violence I was already being subjected to ramping up and more people cutting ties with me. Oh and those who didn’t are still quite friendly with her.

Several women with ties to... dangerous people randomly got it into their heads several years ago that I posed some sort of threat to someone I am told they “feel very protective towards” and... unleashed a hell on me unlike anything I have ever seen. I have spent the past 6 years now dealing with death threats from far right terrorist organizations who in some cases have very sizeable body counts, and those groups don’t scare me anywhere near as much as these people. Anyone else I have seen them paint a target on completely withdrew from the internet their careers and any sort of public life to try and stay off their radar. I have had multiple people privately confide in me that they had been threatened never to speak to me again before proceeding to make good on that. I have individually thrown myself at the mercy of every single one of them, explained that I have absolutely no ill will towards any of them, and had never even heard of this person they’re “protecting” before they started coming after me. Nothing has worked. They’ve never stopped. I’m legitimately afraid someone connected to them is going to murder me some day, and I don’t know what to do. I’ve confided in all of maybe 3 people about this. One might be dead, one is a total hermit, the third briefly tried supporting me, received threats, and promptly retracted everything, replacing it with a fire and brimstone speech about how I am an evil monster who tricked them. I have regular nightmares about this, and collapse into a shivering heap just seeing any of their names mentioned.

I... spent a good deal of time in social contact with a person I have been told I need to be friends with to advance in a career I would like to pursue. While doing so, he sabotaged a project that was fairly important to me, and I saw some him mistreat someone else in ways I find quite disturbing, but that’s her story to tell and not mine. I don’t feel comfortable around him, and have no real choice but to give up on those dreams. Haven’t really discussed this anywhere. The sort of work I can get would definitely vanish completely if I did.

The sort of work I can get also involves working for a variety of companies with people very high up the ranks who have seriously harmed a number of people I consider to be very good friends, in ways that in some cases include sexual abuse, and I... really would prefer not to ever work for anyone employing such people now that I am aware of this.

Yet another famous person, but one who I feel perfectly comfortable naming, Graham Linehan, used to follow me on social media with a level of enthusiasm that could arguably be better referred to as stalking. Then later he joined some extremist anti-trans hate group and rose to the top pretty quickly. And some years after that, it finally sank in that worshiping a trans woman while also leading a group of people bent on killing us all, so he has been very loudly and very publicly rambling about his hatred for me specifically. I don’t really have to speak up about this one because he’s doing plenty of that on his end, but I do have to note that while this famous person terrorizing me hasn’t really earned me any sort of public defense or sympathy, it has encouraged a whole lot of people to invent an alternate timeline of events where I am directly responsible for him being a bigot, leading to me getting dangerous threats from both horrible bigots and people who claim to hate horrible bigots but have suspiciously poor aim.

Hey speaking of celebrities, one of the stars of Firefly used to regularly send me photos of violently distended testicles. One of the stars of Star Trek once posted something encouraging millions of social media followers to attack me and left it up for a weekend. One of the producers of World of WarCraft once threatened to sue me for libel and went on a big PR tour about it, speaking on podcasts and such, and so many fascists pretending to be journalists have dumped so much crap on me...

And not to long ago in something of a wacky mixup, someone ELSE rather famous, who does diversity consulting no less, confused me for someone else and cut loose with a horrific bit of hate and gossip and throwing me under the bus, and misgendering me, saying random harassers baselessly calling me a pedophile were probably onto something. Privately told a handful of people about that, because I thought she was a friend and that was so heartbreaking, but anyone I told is just pretending not to have seen it.

Someone was once offering me help because I was in a dangerous situation, financially. I explained that things had been extra hard since coming out as trans. Suddenly he goes from helpful and concerned to just... violent. Screaming a me, openly trying to chase me out of the space we were both in. I reported this to the proper people. They tried talking, he left. The whole community mourned the loss and wondered who could have driven him off. Still doesn’t feel like a safe place for me.

I don’t really know why I’m bothering with all of this. Nobody is actually going to help. I’d say nobody is actually going to read this, but I’m sure plenty of people who hate me will to see if I’m talking about them and use it as justification to make things worse. Plus some people I’m not talking about I’m sure. I get plenty of that all the time.

Nothing ever helps and you can’t ever win. If you try to keep the abusers appeased by not outing them, the abuse never stops. If you try to speak up, their fans and friends treat it like declarations of war and pile on. If you just try to be there for other people when they’re being abused, you get singled out as a “troublemaker” and added to hit lists and black lists and... nothing works.

I don’t want a lot out of life. I want to know I have enough food, and have a place to live where I’m not at risk of dying from either temperature extreme, a bathroom, enough room for my book shelves, a bed, a couch, a dinner table, and a yoga mat. Maybe a space where my cats can run around a little enclosed semi-outdoor area for the fresh air and sun. I want to be able to deal with my medical problems. I want to see and talk to friends sometimes. If I’m really greedy, I’d like to have all that for a particular friend too who I’m constantly worrying about dying of poverty. And I’d like to be able to work on games. Maybe play them sometimes. Maybe watch things.

And that’s the really messed up part. Because abusive people and people supporting the structures of abuse always say they just want to focus on getting work done, or having fun, and it’s a lie. What’s most important for them is perpetuating abuse. They could just stop, or get rid of the people doing it, and the rest of us could live our lives and everything would be fine. But no instead we have to drop everything and make sure no woman anywhere feels safe enough to even breath.

[carrotsofavonlea]

Anne of Hogwarts

Chapter 5: Anne and Gilbert fall out...again

[AO3]

Anne returned to Hogwarts for second year with an optimistic view. Her first year could have gone better, but instead she decided to focus on the good things. She'd made friends with fellow kindred spirits, Diana, Cole, and Ruby. Even her fellow Gryffindor Albus seemed to be a kindred spirit, but she wasn't quite sure yet if they were indeed kindred or just friends.

And Gilbert Blythe... they'd called a kind of truce, that now any rivalry was pure academic, but it was also good natured. Were they friends? She wasn't sure.

She didn't think of him immediately as a friend, but when he'd fixed her ankle she admitted to herself that maybe he could potentially be a friend. They'd tried to put it behind them, and start afresh in the new year, but now she was on the Hogwarts Express, it seemed easier said than done.

It had only taken 5 minutes before Ruby brought up the boy in question.

“Do you think Gilbert has grown more handsome over the summer?” She excitedly grabbed Diana's arm. “I think he will, oh I can't wait to see him.”

Anne shook her head and looked down at the copy of the Daily Prophet. She was trying to get more involved in the wizarding world and it's current affairs.

About 10 minutes into the journey, Albus and Cole knocked on the girls’ compartment door. Albus’ arms were full of sweets from the trolley, and Cole was carrying both their luggage.

“Look at this teamwork.” Albus proudly said as he sat down next to Anne, dumping the sweets on the table.

“Team work?” Cole tried to shove Albus’ trunk into the carrier on top. “ I did all the heavy lifting.”

“I'm too short to reach the top?” Albus shrugged, passing out a chocolate frog to everyone.

Anne had never had a chocolate frog before, and when she opened it, the frog leapt out.

“Catch it!” Diana pointed, and Anne jumped out of her seat, lunging forward before it hopped out the window.

“Who'd you get?” Albus nodded to the card in Anne's hand, his mouth full of lemon sherbets.

Anne looked at the little picture. It was a gruff looking man with a beard, he wore red robes and held his sword proudly. “Godric... Gryffindor ? The founder of our house?”

Albus looked at the card but wasn't impressed. “Oh, yeah. I've got 3 of him.”

Anne didn't care, she was still getting used to all the magic and the history. Something that seemed so normal to Albus was still new and exciting for her.

“One day,” he said, stuffing in another lemon sherbet. “One day, I'm going to be on a chocolate frog card.”

“That'll be the day.” Cole said under his breath. “And I'm going to be minister of magic.”

“You could.” Anne looked between both of them. “Why can't you? If you follow where your passions lead you, I think you'll go far.”

“You're so wise.” Ruby said. Her hand was frozen on the way of eating a sherbet from Albus. “You should have been Ravenclaw.”

Diana looked down, and Anne noticed her uncomfort.

“Diana?”

She raised her head and smiled, just like her mother had instructed her. Brave face, stiff upper lip. “It's nothing.”

Anne reached across the table and lightly touched her hand. “You can talk to us.”

Diana nervously looked around before sighing. “I see how smart and wise you are...and I keep thinking that's what a Ravenclaw should be. I'm not as smart as you, I'm not as good at magic. I shouldn't be Ravenclaw. I don't belong anywhere.”

“You know that's not true.” Cole also reached across and rested his hand on Anne's. Ruby placed her hand over Cole's, and the Albus followed suit, placing a hand over Ruby's.

“The hat doesn't make mistakes.” Anne smiled, “I was reading about sorting, and it says the hat sorts you not necessarily what traits you already possess, but what traits you value. But none of that even matters because you belong at Hogwarts, no matter what house.”

They leaned across the table to meet in a group hug. And it was then that Anne knew these friends were going to be here for life.

The welcome feast was a lot more fun now Anne was a second year watching the first years being sorted. No fear, no worry, she could just sit and chat with her friends.

Anne was looking around the room, but her eyes landed on the Hufflepuff table. It was ever so briefly, but long enough for her eyes to meet one Gilbert Blythe. He held her gaze with an intensity that hadn't been there last year when they were “rivals”. And just as quick as it had happened, she pulled her gaze from his and looked back at the sorting.

“Anne!” Gilbert pushed his way through the mass of students leaving the Great Hall. “Anne, wait!”

She sighed and cast a sympathetic look at Albus, who carried on to the Gryffindor common room by himself.

“Gilbert.” She nodded politely, trying her best to remain indifferent.

“How was your summer?”

“It was good, I helped out Marilla and Matthew on their farm. There was an awful case of gnomes in the garden. How about you?”

He stiffened ever so slightly, “Oh, it was... alright. I'm just...glad to be back. It's good to see you Anne. Really.”

His smile reached his eyes, and he nervously shoved his hands in his robe pockets. It was as if she'd brought him some kind of relief.

Anne looked up at him, noticing how much taller he was since she'd last seen him in June. It wasn't fair how boys seemed to grow double speed, while she hadn't grown an inch.

“I should get to my common room.” She burst out when she realised she'd been staring at him. “I mean, I don't want detention on the first day.”

Gilbert nodded, “Of course not.” he waited a moment before adding, “May I walk you?”

“Won't your prefect mind?”

He shook his head, “Hufflepuff is a little more... relaxed than other houses.”

Anne envied that. Sure Hufflepuff had a reputation for being the useless house, but it seemed more like a family than other houses. She loved being a Gryffindor and wouldn't change it for the world, but she couldn't help but wonder what it was like in other houses.

They walked up the moving staircase, and Anne pretended she didn't notice how tightly Gilbert was holding on to the rail when it started moving.

When they'd reached the corridor that lead to Gryffindor common room, they heard a loud crash followed by shouting that sounded an awful lot like the Gryffindor prefect.

“PEEVES YOU INSOLENT FOOL!”

Anne looked over at Gilbert, but he was holding back laughter at the sudden outburst, his lip quivering slightly.

A moment later, the infamous Hogwarts poltergeist, Peeves came floating down the hall, singing some song to himself about pianos.

But he stopped singing when he saw Anne and Gilbert together.

“Ooh!” He shrieked. “Two lovebirds? Out on an evening stroll?”

“Peeves!” Anne shouted.

“A Gryffindor and a Hufflepuff, most unusual pair.” He laughed, more of a high pitched cackle than a laugh.

He continued to sing a song about Anne and Gilbert but the two began to run away down the corridor. The poltergeist got bored and moved on to his next victims.

They rounded the corner and saw the Gryffindor prefect, that had just shouted, with his hands on his hips, explaining to Headmaster Dippet why exactly there was a broken piano on the floor.

“It was that blasted poltergeist sir. He conjured up a piano out of thin air and nearly dropped it on my head.”

“We've tried for centuries to get rid of him.” Dippet looked at the piano, resigned to the fact that Peeves was here to stay. “But there's just nothing to be done.”

“Evanesco.” he waved his wand and the bits of piano disappeared as if they'd never existed.

He smiled to Anne and Gilbert and went on his way. The prefect looked at Anne as if to hurry her up.

“I should go.” She looked back to Gilbert. He seemed...off somehow. She couldn't explain it, but there was something more artificial about his smile.

But he didn't give her a chance to question him, nodding politely as he stepped back from her. “Have a good evening, Anne.”

Ruby was beside herself during break the next day. Anne, Diana, and Albus had found her and Cole in their usual spot in the clock tower courtyard.

“Ruby what's the matter?” Diana immediately offered the girl her handkerchief.

Ruby delicately wiped her nose, “Poor, poor Gilbert.”

“What happened to Gilbert?” Anne said quickly. “I mean, why are you upset?” She didn't want to seem too interested in Gilbert, even despite their new status as “friends”.

Ruby sniffed again and Anne resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She loved her friend dearly, but sometimes it could be frustrating when she wouldn't actually tell you what was the matter.

“Didn't you hear? About his father?” it appeared that even Hufflepuffs were not barred from gossip and rumours.

“I knew he was sick but...oh Ruby did he…?” Diana gently placed a hand over Ruby's, the blonde girl nodding sadly.

Anne felt her stomach drop. She'd never even asked him about his family. She just assumed he was from a perfect home.

“Gilbert is an orphan now. Poor, sweet Gilbert.” Ruby started sobbing again.

Anne knew all too well about being an orphan. Granted, she'd never met her real parents, but she knew what it was like to feel so alone in the world. No doubt that was how Gilbert felt. That must have been what was plaguing him.

“Anne where are you going?” Cole shouted when Anne suddenly burst into a sprint, leaving her gold and red scarf behind.

Albus bent down and picked it up for her, stuffing it into his satchel. “We have history of magic next, I'll just give it to her then.”

“If you can stay awake.” Diana managed to make a joke.

“It is my firm belief,” Albus said with a small, cheeky smile. “That Professor Binns will be teaching that subject even as a ghost. Alive or dead that man will carry on.”

“I should think half his students will be ghosts by now.”

They were laughing again, the moment of mourning for Gilbert faded away. They were lucky to not be troubled with such things. Anne however couldn't carry herself far away enough.  Her mind was racing, her heart aching. How truly awful it must have been to lose someone you love. One day they were here, the next they were gone forever. How could life be so cruel?

She made her way to the library, somewhere quiet where she could think. But there he was, alone?

She thought he had so many friends, she often saw him with the other boys in the courtyard. But not today.

He seemed to be studying, but she quietly walked over to him and sat down. His eyebrows were furrowed and his hair fell into his face as he made notes on a bit of parchment.

“Gilbert?”

He looked up, his face softening when he saw her. “Anne.”

“I...I heard about your father.”

Gilbert took a deep breath as if to steady himself. Once again that soft expression had hardened, he wasn't quite himself. He wasn't Gilbert.

He didn't speak so she carried on.

“I'm sorry to hear it. But let me tell you from my own personal experience that being an orphan isn't so bad.”

“And you would know?”

“Well, yes. My parents died when I was a baby so I never really knew them. But at least you're lucky that you have memories of your father.”

“Lucky? I'm lucky ?” he laughed incredulously.

“Compared to me, yes.” She clenched her fist. She was just trying to help but now he was talking to her in a way he never had before. How dare he? Just when she thought they were starting to be friends.

He shook his head, pain in his eyes. “And why is this about you?”

Anne froze. Why all of a sudden was he being rude?

“It's...it's not but...I was only…” she stuttered. “I was trying to help.”

“Forget it.” Gilbert looked down at his book dismissively.

Anne stood up abruptly, her chair scraping along the wooden floor loudly. The librarian shushed her, but Anne didn't care.

She took one last look at Gilbert and stormed out the library.

Anne marched to the empty common room, kicking the arm chair. “Fine. Don't listen to me Gilbert Blythe. It's not like I have extensive knowledge on being an orphan!” She muttered to herself.

Just yesterday she'd gotten on so well with Gilbert, but now all of a sudden he was acting rude. Well fine. She'd given him his chance. It was a mistake to think they could have been friends.

“Anne Shirley!” The Gryffindor prefect entered through the portrait hole. “Classes are beginning and we can't afford to lose more house points because you're late.”

“Then what are you doing here?”

He put his hands on his hips. “One of my prefect duties is to check the common room to make sure students like you aren't skipping lessons.”

“I'm going! I'm going!” She held up her hands and was ushered out of the common room. Her angry rant about Gilbert would have to wait.

[italicwatches]

Megalobox - Episode 10

Let’s get into this. It’s Megalobox, episode 10! Here we GO!

-Under a red moon, Fujimaki gives Nanbu a simple order. Tell Joe everything, and bring this to a close. Speaking of, Joe steps out to come take a piss…And Nanbu’s forced to admit that their real fight is over, all while Fujimaki just listens to the torture and pain he’s putting them through…

-Opening.

-Flashback. That day in the restaurant, when Nanbu made the oath to get into Megalonia…And Fujimaki wasn’t interested in some bight dream. Fujimaki pushed Nanbu even harder that day, past the easy bluffs and the noble dreams and into something darker…

-So Nanbu’s forced to admit his real bluff. It wasn’t getting to Megalonia. It wasn’t even winning Megalonia.

-It was throwing a match at Megalonia. Turning the hopes and dreams of the entire fucking slums into Fujimaki’s profits, and burn the idea of a better tomorrow into ash. Making enough profit off of everyone back home trying to show their faith in the local kid done good, that it would wipe Nanbu’s debt.

-Joe, of course, realizes he never had Nanbu in his court, not really. Not with any idea of taking it to the top. You were ALWAYS looking for your cash-out! Nanbu tries to counter that this was the only path where either of them survived, and look, you’ve got the ID. You’ve got the rankings. You drop this last time, and they’re free and clear! Just a quick detour. Just put the headset on, one more time…

-Joe clocks Nanbu across the fucking jaw, throws the earpiece to the ground, and stomps it to dust. You’ve only ever been looking for yourself. The last time he played your game was in the fucking pits, Nanbu. Never again. Never again. Nanbu snatches up Joe, trying to convince him that they’ve got no other path, that they’re a pair of frauds with no hope of legitimacy, that all they can do is survive…

-Joe’s not interested in hearing it. He’s not even mad, he’s just, disillusioned. Utterly and truly. He just gets on his motorcycle, riding off…And leaving Nanbu to deal with a horrified Sachio. And, worse, a satisfied Fujimaki, who makes something very clear…If Joe doesn’t throw his match, all three of you are dead. The rain begins to fall, full of fury…

-And Joe, in the dark and bitter rain, rides against that desert cliff one more time.

-The next day, the three established Megalonia competitors are doing a press conference. One that Joe was supposed to be at too, but he isn’t showing…Also, side note, Burroughs speaks in pretty solid English, that makes me think they got an actual native speaker to do his lines.

-Joe finds himself at Abuhachi’s, with no other place to go. And it’s not like he’s upset to see Joe here, but what happened, kid? You get lost or something?

-…Yeah, lost is a good way to put it.

-While in the slums, Nanbu comes and finds Sachio…Who’s disgusted with Nanbu. But Nanbu pops the hat right off of Sachio’s head, and knows exactly who you are, kid. The son of a freelance engineer. A guy who got fucked by Shirato, and who took his own life…

-As far as Sachio’s concerned, Shirato killed his dad. His mom, without cashflow, got sick. Couldn’t afford a doctor. Died a year later. He lost everything…And when he saw Joe, he, he thought, maybe they could…And then YOU RUINED IT ALL! Nanbu just picks up the spare clothes he brought, and starts walking away…

-They end up at a fancy party after the press conference. …Things are different now, Sachio. If you want your revenge…She’s right there. Out in the open. No security. The CEO of Shirato. He passes the kid a knife, and, if you want an eye for an eye…Take the eye.

-Sachio’s real, fucking, close to doing it, too, to racing in there over the fence and attacking Yukiko…When he sees her talking and playing with a pair of kids. A pair of kids about his age. Had things gone a different way, he’d be right there next to them. Of course he would have. But now…

-…He can’t do it. All he has in him, is believing in Joe. …They both bet on Joe. They both put it all in. But that leaves Joe as the only man who can decide how this ends.

-Back under the bridge, Joe’s burning some steam on the bags…And Nanbu, at the party, gives Sachio another path. Leave the knife, kid, and come on.

-To Yukiko’s doorstep, where Nanbu’s got a request for her. His most absurd yet. …He needs you to keep this kid safe. A dishonest man wants him dead. And, to be blunt…Your company put that kid in this position. Your people led to his father’s death, his mother’s death, and him ending up a rat in the slums. You owe him.

-Yukiko counters, that she could just force an exchange. She could make Joe withdraw from the tournament. …Nanbu wouldn’t be too unhappy if that happened, at this point. At least it would be the first honest thing he was ever part of. But no. He knows you. You’re not going to do that. And, besides…This is the last you’ll be hearing from him.

-Nanbu’s gonna disappear. The only question for him is whether it’s on his feet or in a box. Either way, none of you are ever going to see him again. He passes Sachio an ID card, and then he’s gone, a single wave goodbye…

-Megalobox, Round 10: The DIE is Cast

-To MEGALONIA! The opening salvo is on, and the crowd is going wild! It’s the biggest tournament in the history of the sport! Yukiko’s doing her rounds with the upper crust, when her assistant has something for her…A full internal audit was done. And the integrated Gear’s immunosuppressant system was not acquired on the up and up. The boy’s claims are legitimate. His father was stolen from, and their company profited from it.

-Speaking of Sachio, he’s alone in a dark room, just staring at that photo on the inside of his hat…He drops the ID card in there too, ramming the whole thing back on his head as, despite himself, the tears start to fall…

-The first match is on! Yuri is up against The Spider, Pepe Iglesias. The second ranked boxer in the world, straight out of Mexico! And his opponent? Yuri. The king of kings! The world champion! Number one in the entire world, representing Team Shirato!

-Both men enter the field, as Yukiko watches…She’s got every intention of seeing this through. But she does make a quick request…Get every single fucking name who was involved in that perversion of justice. Every last person who helped steal a man’s work from him and take his livelihood, and life, away. They will be dealt with. …Oh she is pissed.

-And of course, all eyes are on this first match…Joe’s way in the back, watching, and even down at the bar, Nanbu drowns his sorrows as people watch…

-The match is on, as Spider’s tricks become obvious. He’s incredibly flexible above all else, and light on his feet, which lets him dodge and pull off tricks that hardly any other boxer can deal with. Even Yuri can only hold his own, not actually get any ground, as both men test each other…

-Round two comes fast, and both start trying to actually claim some momentum in the ring…With Spider managing to get the first solid shot and draw blood! But that just snaps Yuri awake hard, as he goes all out…Spider throws another punch, but he just comes into the man’s guard like a ghost, and uppercuts him cold, before a followup left hook! Spider hits the mat, and even the commentators can’t even see it until they go back to the slow-mo footage!

-The count hits ten, and the match is called! Yuri claims his first victory in Megalonia!

-After it’s over, Joe’s out by the rider with his motorcycle, full of heavy thoughts…When a dog comes up, all eager to see him. Yuri’s dog. The two men end up standing there, chatting…Joe’s changed, since the last time they really interacted. He’s seen Yuri is the real deal, and he’s got some legit respect for that match. That was a hell of a hook you finished with!

-Yuri tries to play it down. The ring is the ring. You win or lose. That’s all. Everyone has the same two chances in front of them. …Why are you fighting bare, Joe? Why Gearless?

-…If he’s honest? It started as a bluff. A gamble. A way to get people to be willing to fight him, and to get the newspapers to actually give a shit about a man at the bottom rankings. But the more he’s gone, the more it’s about…Pride? Honor? Maybe t’s just the thrill of knowing he doesn’t have anything helping him, and doesn’t have anything holding him back. It’s just his own two hands out there, just his own speed and skill protecting his life.

-And he wants to see how far he can take it. This isn’t about proving something to anyone anymore, Yuri. He doesn’t want to get in the ring with you to, to take back something from that night in the pits. He wants to see how far he can go, and test himself. Against you, against the best…Joe just wants to see the heights he can reach, pushed by someone that strong. But what about you? What makes you step into that ring?

-…A dream. A single, simple dream. Someone believed in him, Joe. Someone pulled him up from the dark, all for a dream. And he wants to see her dream come true. That’s all there is to it.

-While Nanbu, drunk off his ass, stumbles back to the houseboat…Fujimaki treated him to a drink, and chatted with him about the old fable of the frog and the scorpion…As across the city, Joe stares into the water, Sachio looks out the window of his home slash prison, and Nanbu slumps over under the bridge, thinking of a scorpion’s nature…

-The next morning, Joe leaves Abuhachi’s, having received a fresh earpiece…And Abuhachi asked him, plain and simple. Who should he really bet on, tonight?

-Credits.

Fuuuuuuuuuuck

[ramblinganthropologist]

Inktober Day 18 - Bottle

Summary: Acting is hard enough, especially when there’s fight scenes involved. Briala was ready for that punch to the gut, but not for what came after. Events from the night before bring on a whole new headache. Man, this is why she hates method actors.

---

There was nothing like band practice after filming to remind you just how fucking exhausted you were. Everything hurt, and that was putting it mildly. Even the parts she didn't have hurt. How the hell did she get a phantom ache in a limb she never had?

“You ok over there, Bri?”

Briala turned, muscles twinging. The bassist from her band, a short dwarven woman, had left just as she did. She managed a smile, but even that hurt.

“Just... worn out. We're doing a lot of action shit on set lately.”

Why did Avery Hawke have to be so goddamn active anyway? Briala spent half her time in costume climbing onto her costar like she was some kin of shoulder gremlin. When she wasn't doing that, she was running around in prop armor that probably weighed as much as the real shit, going through telegraphed fights and getting her ass kicked. To say she was tired... tired wasn't even the right word for it. She was fucking wiped.

“Don't break your vocal chords, we need you ready for Sunday.” The dwarf patted her on the back. “Get some rest. You look like shit.”

“Gee, thanks!” Briala stuck out her tongue as her band mate disappeared into the night. “Asshole.”

Sighing, she kept walking. It was a short distance to where she lived, and it wasn't like people knew her on sight yet anyway. There were plenty of elves with brown hair and blue eyes anyway – maybe they didn't have as much metal in their face as she did, but it took the heat off. It wasn't like she was a certain seven foot tall Antivan who couldn't avoid people if his life depended on it. For that, she was glad to be short; it was probably the only time in her life she was.

She was also thirsty. Practice had taken it out of her. However, much to Briala's displeasure when she made a grab for her water bottle, the condensation caused it to slip out of her hands. She swore as it smacked hard into her foot and rolled away.

“Oh come on, do I seriously gotta run some more?”

Groaning, the elf broke out into a slow jog to catch her water bottle as it rolled away thanks to the slight hill she had been standing on. At one point, it rolled out of her sight. However, the great thing about being elven  was being able to see in the dark. There it was, half hidden by a trash can it had bumped up against.

Sighing in relief, she reached down to grab it. “Now I'm even thirstier.”

Off went the lid, and into her mouth it went. However as  the first mouthful went down, Briala's eyes widened and she spat it out onto the ground. Rust and salt filled her mouth and made her want to throw up. But she didn't. She swallowed, and man did her stomach not like that. At least once it tried to get it up, but she kept it down.

Spitters were quitters.

“Gross... those fuckers must've messed with my bottle when I was in the bathroom.” Scowling, she unscrewed the lid and dumped it into the nearby sewer. “I'm gonna get them for sure the next time I see them. Now I've got this damn taste in my mouth and I'm still thirsty.”

Pouting a little, Briala returned to her path of heading for home where there would be plenty of not fucked with water for her to drink. After that, it would be another night of sleeping like she was dead, then filming in the morning. Lather, rinse, repeat.

---

B: Yo, whoever fucked with my bottle last night is a real asshole.

Nobody had answered her text in the group chat before Briala had to put away her phone. Into the hidden pocket of her prop armor it went. Hopefully when she got her ass beat, it wouldn't get knocked around. She really didn't want to have to redo this scene because modern technology reared its ugly head on the streets of Kirkwall during a street brawl.

“Don't kick me in the kidney this time, ok?” Malcolm was also in armor and waiting for her to climb on up. Briala didn't quite have Avery's legendary technique worked out, but she did well enough. Up she went, and soon she was sitting on her costar's shoulders. In a few seconds, she would be launching straight into the fake fight and then it would be go time.

“Don't have your kidney where my foot is.” Briala grimaced as she held her stomach as a passing pain made her wonder if her appendix was about to go nuclear. It left her soon enough, but she made a note to check it out later. “Anyway, get ready. It's almost go time.”

It was a long way to the ground from Malcolm's massive shoulders. Add in the fact she'd be jumping off... and well it wasn't as if she was afraid of heights, but damn if Avery Hawke hadn't been an extra little bitch. They had told her when she signed on it be pretty active, but this was just ridiculous. Plus, what with her stomach and all, she could already feel the urge to throw up returning. Hopefully it wouldn't be on her costar – he wouldn't like that. Plus, retake and all that.

As she said – really wanted to do this in one shot. There was only so many times she could launch herself off a full grown man in one day.

The director called action from off set, and then there they were in the middle of Kirkwall's Lowtown, circa 9:31 Dragon. Just as it was written on the script, the gang advanced. Behind them was a tied up elf – Hawke's cousin. From where Briala was sitting, they looked quite realistic. Then again, from where she was sitting she could also see where the Velcro was.

It was a toss up sometimes.

“Didn't think you two would actually show up.” Head bozo, actually a pretty chill guy, pointed his finger at them. “Alright, now drop the 20 sovereigns and back away. Nobody has to get hurt today.”

Up on Malcolm's shoulders, Briala smirked and leaned hard on her Ferelden roots. “Oh, I think you gave up that option when you tied Eth up. Now, if anyone doesn't want to go see the healer, I'd advise you to leave now.”

They didn't, of course. Instead, one of them took a choreographed step forward. Then came the sword, fake, swinging straight at Malcolm's midsection. He blocked with his staff, and that was her cue. In the blink of an eye, Briala stood, made a grab for her prop sword, and in one jump launched off her costar's shoulders just as he pulled his staff back.

The prop swords met – sound effects would be added later – and the grunt she had been tasked to land on fell back as promised. He cushioned her fall, but there was still a mild ache in her ankles. Still, off she went, shield now on her arm and ready to go.

“Have it your way then!”

The fight was now on – team Hawke vs team assholes. Every time Briala's sword was hit, she felt the vibrations all the way through the arm she had. Instead of wearing her out like it normally did, she felt even more ready to go. She leaned into the weird adrenaline rush – might as well. The next part hurt. It was written on script she got punched in the gut by an opportunistic gang member. No cushioning made it much better.

The dull thump to her gut dropped her to her knee. She wasn't seeing stars, though. Something was bubbling up in her stomach like she was about to throw up. It wasn't vomit, though – her entire body felt hot, almost as if it was boiling in her prop armor. The overhead lights weren't doing this as she managed to rocket up, both feeling and not feeling the sensation of pain at the same time.

Kick that guy's ass.

That was what her instincts said – choreography evaporated from her mind. Instead she just launched forward with more speed that she had ever felt in her life. Her prop sword might have been fake, but it still probably hurt when she smacked down with all her weight.

“Cut!”

Briala didn't stop, not until Malcolm grabbed her moments later. The guy on the floor had a bloody nose, a black eye, and looked absolutely terrified. He wasn't the only one – she was struggling hard, instinct screaming kick that guy's ass.

It wasn't until she saw her own reflection in Malcolm's fake armor that she realized something was wrong. Her pupils were dilated and a red tinge had taken over her eyes. When had her incisors been that sharp either?

Her costar carried her off stage past stunned crew and cast. He eventually plopped her down far away from the fight, keeping close should she try to bolt for it. Briala just sunk down against the wall, energy spent. Whatever had gone on was over now. The pain was back too.

“Oww...”

Malcolm shook his head as he sat down so they could have an actual eye to eye conversation. Otherwise, she would have been looking at his belly button. He gave her the once over, lingering on her face. His eyebrows knit together, but he said nothing.

Briala rubbed her sore gut to lessen the pain. “He got me good.”

“You got him better. He's lucky you didn't break something.” Malcolm was still looking at her. “Did you drink anything weird?”

Huh.

The smaller actor's mind felt like soup right then. Higher reason was kind of out of the picture. However, she heard the words 'drink' and 'weird' which were enough. The image of the night before struck her almost as hard as the fist.

The bottle.

Working out words was a little easier with time. “My water bottle tasted weird last night after it got away from me. I had to dump it out before I went home.”

“What did it taste like?”

The answer came not from words but a dull realization. Sometime during the fight, Briala's teeth had bit down hard on the inside of her cheek. It wasn't a bad bite, but it was hurt enough to bleed. It was that same salty, rust-tinged flavor she had experienced the night before, and it was enough to make her head snap up.

Red eyes, sharp teeth... shit.

“Shit. I think someone gave me blood.”

Malcolm nodded, no doubt coming to the same realization. “Dragon blood, to be exact. Didn't think you could still get that today, but your little power play out there says otherwise.”

Briala's stomach rolled, and it wasn't from the punch. She wasn't a mage like Malcolm, but she knew enough about her character's life to put the pieces together. Part of why she had to be such a crazy asshole in a fight was that Avery Hawke was a reaver. While she didn't understand how it worked, something about drinking dragon's blood and being in pain triggered the rush of strength and adrenaline that made the champion's fights so dramatic.

Now she understood those passage in Avery's diary about the sudden surge that had pushed her forward in her most deadly fights. If she was right... she swallowed past the lump in her throat at the thought. Well, it wasn't good.

“Guess I'm gonna need a trip to the healer after this, huh?”

Yeah, for a blood test. Hopefully in the Digital Age they had somehow figured out a test for reaver that didn't involve an orderly being punched. Still, Briala couldn't worry about that now. There was an asshole out there with dragon's blood who apparently had a hard on for giving it to people. Was she the only one? Or was there more out there?

Man, she really didn't need to think about this now. Her head hurt enough without being victim zero of a reaver creation spree. Talk about taking method acting a step too far. Her only hope was that the effects were temporary. After all, she had only had a little bit... something like a permanent boost should take more.

At least... she hoped so. That was how it worked, right?

[calleo-bricriu]

Names

(( Another clean-up of a post that turned into a nice conversation. ))

"Pick up the Astarte; I want to see if it does anything."

“The one that’s-?” Grindelwald already knows the answer, of course. His fingers stretch out, and there’s a moment of hesitation before he so much as touches it, let alone takes it in hand. The moment he does, there’s an involuntarily intake of breath.

“Neat!" Calleo didn't appear the least bit surprised despite the exclamation, "Not strictly useful as I can tell you it’s not going to cast anything, but it is interesting that it’ll adjust its shape.”

“He’s a handsome fellow; I’ve never seen him quite this close before,” he murmurs. “No, no, I would not ask him- I have a great deal more respect than that… can you feel this, Vögelchen?”

“Ask me what? And yes; I can pick up just about anything from that wand. Dropped it down a flight of stairs once and could actually feel it. Not pleasant. Not painful, just not pleasant.”

“I could no more give it a true order than I could you.” Grindelwald’s grasp tightens subtly, though it isn’t the Wand he’s looking at when he murmurs “Poor darling!” and presses a kiss to the place where it curves.

“Oh, it’s not as though I threw it down the stairs–or that I fell down them with it, and it’s blackthorn, it’d take more than stairs to even ding blackthorn.”

“Very true.” Grindelwald’s attention seemed to still be more on the wand than on its owner.

“Also, in case you’d forgotten, we’re in the same room and that’s a wand, not a microphone. I can hear you.”

“All the better to whisper sweet nothings to.”

“That reminds me, though, about what time did you first notice your hands start to ache? That’ll be two out of the seventy.”

“First?” Grindelwald pauses to think, “…shortly before the end of the war. Perhaps a year.”

“Shouldn’t be too tricky,” A chipper response but, then, that was hardly uncommon for Calleo, “just kind of a variation on dealing with stress fractures and general inflammation. Stop talking to my wand and hand it back to me.”

With a regretful sigh, Grindelwald does so. “And the hair?”

“Go ahead, just don’t make me look weird. Weirder. Basically, don’t do anything that’s going to necessitate I visit someone to not look like I had some kind of weird slip-up with a cutting charm.”

“Also, you’re not going to eat it are you?” Calleo turned briefly to look at Grindelwald again, “Because I once had someone tell me they wanted to eat my hair and it was legitimately one of the most unsettling things anyone has ever said to me.”

The look Calleo receives for this is indescribable. “No. And it’ll only be noticed if you try to tie it back; I intend to take it from the nape of the neck.”

“Never hurts to be certain, does it? Because the one time I don’t ask is the one time either of those two things is bound to happen, isn’t it?”

“Fair enough. Although I like to think that even at my worst I’m not quite that mad. Now hold still, my dear.”

“Another name that isn’t my actual name, I see. Or, rather, hear," Calleo commented, somehow managing to sound both amused and a bit dry,  “Out of interest, exactly how many pet names do you intend to assign to me before you run out and are stuck using my actual name?”

“Frankly I’m shocked you didn’t try to make it one of the terms of the earlier bargain. Moreover, don’t underestimate me. It’ll only drive me to be creative.”

“You do whatever it is you want to do,” Calleo’s shrug was almost dismissive, “and just remember how easily I can switch it on and off and what a bit of an–interesting display you put on in the same situation.”

Grindelwald responds with several suggestions, none of them remotely palatable, and tugs a good deal more than necessary before using the knife. It just barely grazes the skin. He knows what he’s doing- but then again, of course he does. “You take the luxury of your admirable self-control entirely for granted.”

“Perhaps, and I can continue to do so for the time being. You won’t get what you want until I get what I want.”

“And if my not getting what I want is for the best?” Grindelwald’s face is utterly unreadable.

“Well, ultimately, that’s your call to make, isn’t it? I’m not going to force you into that sort of thing.”

“I didn’t think so.”

“It’d be objectively terrible of me to do that,” Calleo explained, “At any rate, you never did answer awhile back when I asked you what your issue with using my name is. So, what is the issue with it, exactly? It can’t be a ‘squirrel’ level thing.”

“I can’t imagine why it matters to you so much,” Grindelwald snaps. It’s a lie and they both know it.

“You can. And I still want the answer.”

“Listen to me.” Grindelwald is seething the words through his teeth. “You should never have come here to begin with, just as I never should have been locked away here. Yes, you hear me right! I should have been destroyed that night forty-five years ago, destroyed like a dog.” His knuckles are white, stark white.

“Do you know what’s become of every woman and man I’ve ever loved? You’re such a fucking clever boy. Those that history remembers you’d know. Those that it doesn’t…”

“I consume them. I destroy them. Whether I wish it or not. I will not. Consume. You.”

“Mm.” Theatrics. Not that Calleo had expected anything different, “Well, I did come here, and you were locked away; that’s the unchangeable reality of the situation, isn’t it?"

"And you’re right, you won’t consume me, because if you actually believed that that you would, you wouldn’t have been able to stop yourself from doing it. I’d have been dead or worse long before now.”

“It sounds a bit to me like more like a mechanism of self-defence and a fear that if you get too close, I’ll just leave--one way or another--and that’s something I really should have properly asked for a chat about instead of being slightly horrible about it with–everything, really; my behaviour the past few weeks has been completely inappropriate and I apologise.”

Grindelwald shakes his head, wordless, uncomprehending. “Mad. You’re mad.”

“You–can see inside my mind, it’s a bit patchwork in places, but it’s not cracked.”

“Look, this is a discussion that we do need to continue at some point but, if you’d rather not now, I completely understand; if you’d prefer, I can wait for you to bring the topic up again.”

Grindelwald’s face is in his hands now. “I would give… so much… if it only meant you would understand.”

“I do understand.” It was less a protest and more a statement of fact, “Completely. I know what you are. I knew what you were before I came here. I was and still am acutely aware of various very real risks involved by continuing to come here. You can see what a brilliant deterrent it all was,” a vague, slightly sarcastic gesture to the cell in general.

“I’ve seen you when you’ve been arguably at your weakest, I’ve been around those few times your mind has slipped and helped to get you on steady ground again, I’ve seen and felt you all but shatter right in front of me, you’ve been in every corner of my mind, and let’s not forget the thing with the blood earlier. One could easily make the case that you’ve already consumed me, and I’m still just. Fine.”

The old man reacts as if he’s been struck in the gut, the breath knocked out of him completely; he shuts his eyes tight. Parts of him are beginning to tremble like a storm gathering before it breaks. “Please,” is all he can say, although he mouths another word. “Please.”

Calleo sat in front of him–on the floor of course, why wouldn't one sit on the floor in a room full of furniture?–leaning in both to wrap his arms around Gellert’s shoulders and to rest his forehead against the other’s, “I much prefer my interpretation, Gellert, and it does meet the definition the metaphor. You are enough.”

It’s torn from him in the space of a single, brutal instant, "Calleo."

Calleo drew back and smiled, “I knew it’d sound lovely in your accent. And you’ve got what you wanted; I can still make you chase me a bit first if you like, though. Oh–and before I forget, would you like a little splash of that red to get involved first?”

Grindelwald makes a sound like a dying thing, dragging the other man back to crush their mouths together. First things first, then all else in good time.

[johhhhhhnintheusa]

Hollywood

I've somehow managed to get a cold in 30 degree heat, so there's been a lot of resting and little else in recent days.

That and watching the World Cup. Because British.

Either way, there's a fair amount to catch up on. I've been in LA now for a week and a half, longer than I've spent anywhere on my travels.

There might be a fair few people reading this to whom staying in hostels is an alien concept. To those people, it's unusual for someone to stay in any one hostel longer than a few days. Normally a week max. So staying here this long means you see a lot of people come and go.

I've shared a room with Australian actresses (yes I know who, no I'm not saying who here), northern English labourers, Austrian strip club enthusiasts, and one person who sleeps almost constantly. I will call her Sleepy. More on Sleepy later.

It's definitely a eclectic cast.

Blimey, so I'm just now realising how many things I have to write about. So here are a few observations about this mad place and where I've been.

Firstly, my hostel is on Hollywood Boulevard itself. To the initiated, that's where the walk of fame is, with all the stars on the sidewalk.

Remember the game where you'd walk on the pavement and try not to step on any of the cracks? Well that's how I was to start with, with the stars. I religiously avoided stepping on any of them. It kind of felt...I don't know...disrespectful to step on someone's name. Didn't last long mind you.

A few things struck me about the walk of fame: for one, it's reeeeeeally long, there are so many stars, some for people long dead who I've never heard of. Second is that there are actually quite a few empty ones. In retrospect this makes a lot of sense, so there's room for the inevitable next big thing. But this has created a lovely little cottage industry of people offering to put your name on a star in gold coloured foil for a price. And yes it's every bit as fake and tacky as it sounds. The last thing is something that I'm sure only affects me and my stupid brain.

Picture the scene, John Tyson is an up and coming actor. He's got a profile in Forbes magazine, he's had a string of affairs with impossibly attractive supermodels, he's on the short list for a Golden Globe but he hasn't yet made it onto the Walk of Fame.

And then he walks along that famous street.

And he looks down.

And he reads the star below him.

It says Donald Duck.

Donald Duck? DONALD FREAKING DUCK!?

He's a duck! Also he's not real! He doesn't even wear trousers! How does he get a star and I don't!? Did I mention he's a cartoon duck!?

I'm going to have stern words with Hugh Jackman this evening at our weekly Scrabble game.

I understand Mickey Mouse having one, I understand Snow White having one. But he's not even the best cartoon duck!

It's ok, I'm fine. Let's stop taking about it.

One of the other things about the boulevard is it's a popular place to hold movie premieres.

They held the premiere for Ant Man and the Wasp, Marvel's 908th film, the day after I got here.

Red carpet and everything. Security everywhere. Fans camping outside to get a glimpse of that cheeky chappy, Paul Rudd.

But you see, staying in a hostel above this madness gives you an advantage: elevation. We could see everything and everyone from the second floor.

When I say we, I don't include myself. I can't say I really understand the whole celebrity thing. They're just people who more people have seen.

I mean it's only Paul Rudd. He's funny, don't get me wrong. And he seems like he'd be fun to hang out with.

Oh and there's Evangeline Lilly, I liked her in Lost. She was in the Hobbit too.

Ooo Karen Gillan's here...

Wait when did I get to the window?

So yeah I suppose there's a pull to this rubbish I'm not immune to either.

Earlier that day, I'd taken advantage of probably the best part of hostel living: I signed up for a group activity with other people here. It's hands down the best way to meet new people.

We hiked to the Hollywood sign, past the fancy houses. The views California has are maddeningly gorgeous and you can see the entire city from the top of the hill, behind the sign. Inexplicably there were at least six Brits there at the time I was there, making us the dominant force there. We get everywhere, we're like rats.

After that, our little group decided to try and find a Korean BBQ place. I'd never been to one before so didn't know what to expect.

What ended up happening was a monumental flare up up my hatred for the tipping system over here.

I've been over this before so I won't rehash it here. I'll just explain what this place was like.

The first major difference between this place and a normal restaurant is that they don't cook the food. Each table has a hot plate on it. They bring you bowls of uncooked meat and you cook it yourself. That is the only service they perform, other than bringing out the bill.

A bill, which they decided to include a 15% tip on without telling us. That by itself would be enough to melt my ordinarily easygoing British sensibilities into molten rage. But are you kidding me?

You brought us meat. That you put in a bowl. Explain in what universe that warrants tipping?

I recognise that some people dine out for an experience. But the primary reason is because you don't want to cook yourself, or you want something you wouldn't normally make yourself.

And obviously I didn't get the tip removed. I'm British, we're not normal people. How can I get angry about it later if I fix it at the time? Be rational, please.

Later, we decided to go out drinking, which involved going back to the hostel to get changed. It's about 7pm at this point.

Myself and Germanna (Nope, better without context) went back to our room and, naturally since it's early evening, we're not being quiet.

This makes Sleepy deeply unhappy.

She gives me the dirtiest look I may have ever experienced and rolls back over to continue her eternal slumber.

We get changed. We go.

Long story short, we end up in a gay bar, I remember dancing on a podium. Let's move on.

At one point, around midnight, I realise most of the people I came with have disappeared.

Something to know about me, my patience for clubs is famously thin.

My idea of a good night out is surrounding myself with interesting people and chatting to them over alcohol.

Clubs are where conversation goes to die.

You spend the evening either screaming in someone's ear, screaming over a bar for an overpriced drink, or just generally screaming at the generic EDM being played.

So when even the possibility of conversation has been taken away from me, it very quickly becomes apparent that I don't want to be there.

So I left.

The next morning I wake up to find Germanna's bed empty. This is strange since I didn't think she was leaving that day. Sleepy (surprisingly) is sleeping.

Later that day I run into Germanna and she fills in some gaps for me.

Turns out she came back at around 2am. She had something to eat and then tried to sleep. Sleepy decided this was the opportune time to apparently play loud music.

She asks Sleepy to turn it down. Sleepy calls her a bitch and threatens to kill her.

A calm, measured response, I'm sure we can all agree.

So she changes rooms. The day after, Sleepy is moved to what I can only assume was her own room since we still saw her around.

To be clear, a raging argument, including at least three people and death threats, happened  within centimetres of my head. And I slept through all of it.

Clearly, I'm the man you need in a crisis.

What else happened...oh I continued the trend of buying tickets to see British bands who aren't big in America at stupidly low prices. This time it was Years and Years. Though this time I actually got to SEE the band.

And I met a couple of gay guys in the crowd who also thought I was gay. Must be a California thing.

Although perhaps insisting on maximum sass in the Hollywood sign photos maybe influences people's perception of me. Who can say?

[horrorkingdom]

Creepy pasta 🍝

Mary

Allen hurriedly gulped down the last of his milk when he heard the doorbell ring.

“Mom! Chad and Mike are here, I’m leaving for school,” he shouted at the ceiling of the kitchen. He grabbed his backpack off the counter and headed for the door.

“Wait!” His mother rushed down the stairs, half stumbling in the process, stopping him just as he grabbed the door handle. She looked haggard and a worry line creased her brow. Red rimmed eyes gave testament to the fact that she had been crying for some time. His mother absentmindedly adjusted Allen’s scarf with a nervous, shaky hand. “Remember to hurry straight home today, okay?”

“I know, Mom. Mary’s coming today.” At the mention of Mary a choked sob escaped his mother’s throat. Not wanting to see her so distraught Allen tried to cheer her. “Look, why don’t I just stay home today?” he ventured.

“You can’t, honey. You know the rules,” she managed to squeeze out, fighting to quell even more tears. “Now hurry and go.” With that she gave Allen a quick hug, and opened the front door with a sharp jerk, much like yanking off a Band-Aid so as not to prolong the pain. With a forced smile she ushered Allen out into the cold. As she shut the door behind him her sobs returned unbidden. She collapsed against the door, unable to support her own weight. She slid slowly to the floor, the whole time murmuring through her tears, pleading, “Please don’t forget…please don’t forget…”

***

The brisk fall air sent an immediate shock to Allen’s system. He pulled his coat tighter around him, watching his breath curl away in wispy tendrils before turning his eyes to his fellow 3rd grade buddies.

Mike was wearing his usual cocky grin and the ever present glint of mischief was in his eyes. He was the trouble maker in the trio, and as such he was always up for an adventure. By rights of being younger (“Only by a month!” as he was always quick to point out) he was the defacto second in command behind Allen.

Then there was Chad. The kids at school had many names for Chad. They ranged in creativity from “Stupid-head” to “Chard the Tard”, but they all expressed the same point. Chad was slow. Allen’s mother had once told him the technical term for it. To the best of Allen’s recollection it was “high function-something idiot something”. The kids at school chose to focus on the idiot part. What mattered the most to Allen and Mike was that of all the people in Willow Falls, Chad was the most sincere, the most innocent. They took care of him like a younger brother.

“Chad…your shoes are untied again, man!” Allen cast an exasperated look towards Mike. “Why didn’t you help him out?”

Mike, looking hurt and indignant at the same time, responded, “I tried, but you know he only lets you do it.”

Allen let loose a sigh that clearly stated how heavy the burden of the world weighed on his shoulders and bent to tie Chad’s shoes.

“Loop once, loop twice, and it all looks nice!” Chad sang his shoe tying song as Allen went about the work. “Friends to the end,” he rhymed again once Allen had finished. Most people found Chad’s chosen manner of communication irritating, but to Allen and Mike it is was one of his more endearing qualities.

“Chad buddy, you really need to learn to do that on your own. I might not be around to help next time.” Allen’s gentle admonishment was met with a warm smile and enthusiastic nod of Chad’s head. “Alright, Triumphant Trio, off to school!”

“I’m not a fool, I go to school!” chimed Chad as he fell in with the others.

Together the three youngsters made their way down Birch Lane heading for Willow Falls Grade School. Willow Falls was a quaint little town, no more than 100 families, and thus the walk from Allen’s house to school was relatively short. The boys made good time, all the while chatting about whatever it is that interested boys of their age. Chad would chip in with a well-timed rhyme causing all three to laugh. Considering what day it was, the boys were in rather high spirits.

“…and that’s when I pulled her hair!” Mike was in full story telling mode as he regaled his two friends with his latest misadventure involving his neighbor Sally. Arms swung and hands gestured to emphasize every point by pantomiming his actions. Despite the cold, he was working up a nice flush in his eagerness to relate the tale. Allen listened intently, nodding sagaciously. Chad, not fully grasping all the nuances of the story, took his cues from Allen. “Then she got this weird look in her eyes and started leaning tor-,” Mike stopped talking abruptly.

Allen looked up to see what had made his friend pause. He saw it immediately. They were coming up on the gate. The malice emanating forth from the gate was so evident that even Chad was able to recognize it.

“Chad hate bad gate,” he stated in a choked whisper. Both Allen and Mike nodded their agreement to Chad’s simple assessment, but words failed the other two boys. This was The-Gate-That-No-One Opened. Standing 8’ tall, the gate loomed over any who passed by it. The truly intricate details that went into the ironwork were only visible upon close inspection, most however, never got that close. Even Mike, the brave one, would not come within more than a few feet of it. The hinges on the gate had long since rusted, and the gate had looked ready to topple over for years. But it had not. Instead it maintained its constant vigil, forever standing sentinel to that which was behind it.

On the other side of the gate a worn cobblestone path ran straight for 15’ or so before rounding a bend and disappearing behind the giant hedges. No one knew exactly where the path lead, for on the other side of The-Gate-That-No-One-Opened was The-Park-That-No-One-Entered. Located in the geographical center of Willow Falls, the true name of the park was lost in the annals of the town’s history. In the middle of the massive park, rising above the hedges and sitting on the crest of a hill, stood the willow tree. Some quirk in the lay of the land made the willow visible from anywhere in town while the rest of the park lay shrouded in secret behind the surrounding hedges. The town founders had likely seen the tree and named the town after it. That was just speculation of course, just as it was general consensus that the path behind the gate most likely led to the willow tree.

With an unspoken agreement the boys hastened their steps, eager to escape the unnatural silence and icy dread that overcame all who crossed the gate’s path.

“Maybe we should just go back home today.” This from Mike, the brave one.

“No, we have to go to school,” answered Allen. “You know the rules. We all do.”

“Yeah, but…” he let his protestation trail off and instead turned his attention to stepping on every dead leaf that came within reach of his feet.

“School’s the rule,” Chad intoned with his head hanging and hands in his pockets, the walking picture of dejection. The boys continued down Birch Lane.

***

It had been another typical day at WFGS. At recess some of the other 3rd grade boys had devised a new game. They thought it would be funny to stuff a sock down Chad’s pants and try to get him to chase his “tail”. Chad, always hoping to please, had gleefully complied. Misunderstanding their teasing laughter for encouragement had caused him to try all the more enthusiastically. If there was one talent Chad did have, it was his ability to completely focus on one task to the exclusion of all else. This only lent fuel to the laughter as he doggedly spun in circles, determined to catch the sock. Mike and Allen were quick to intervene. One of the boys was sporting a growing black eye where Allen had punched him. Mike, fresh from the principal’s office (“My second homeroom,” as he liked to call it), already had his name on the board.

“At least it wasn’t Pin the Card on the Tard again.”

“Yeah,” agreed Allen. “Hey don’t look now, but they’re at it again!”

Ignoring Allen’s advice, Mike whipped his head around just in time to catch Sally and her group of friends peeking his way. They quickly ducked their heads back together and returned to hushed whispers laced with intermittent giggles.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with Sally,” Mike said with a look of consternation on his face. “Ever since yesterday she’s been acting weird and looking at me funny. Maybe I-“

Mike was cut short as the 3 chimes of the P.A. system declared an upcoming message from Principal Ladsen. Ms. Shoemaker, with her stern hair bun and horn-rimmed glasses immediately set to shushing everyone. Due to what day it was, quiet and attention were quick in coming. The eyes and ears of the twenty-three nine year olds in her class were focused on the loud speaker in the corner. The same was true for every classroom throughout WFGS.

Some slight feedback was followed by a hiss and a pop, trailed by Principal Ladsen clearing his throat. Finally he began to speak.

“Alright everyone, listen up,” he commenced rather unnecessarily. “We all know what day it is, so I need you all to go straight home. Don’t dally in front of the school, or stop on the playground. As soon as the bell rings, in about 5 minutes or so, you children get right back to your houses. That’s all.” Three chimes indicated the message was over.

The principal’s proclamation had set a noticeably somber mood through the halls of the school. In the back of the class, a small, timid hand raised slowly in the air.

“Yes, Stewart?” Ms. Shoemaker was slightly taken aback to actually have some form of interaction from the normally withdrawn Stewart. “What is it?”

“Ma’am, um…if it’s so important we go home right away…I mean…um…why can’t our parents just come pick us up?” His voice quavered quite a bit.

“Because,” she said around a sad, understanding sigh. “It’s not allowed. You all know what the Town Charter says. You know the rules, straight home.” As if to help punctuate her answer, the bell chose that moment to ring. She had to raise her voice to be heard over all the scooting chairs. “Now remember, children! Straight home!” Her voice had become shrill as it chased the children out the door, “Don’t forget!”

***

The halls of WFGS were eerily quiet. The chattering and general hubbub of an entire school’s worth of youngsters were replaced by grim looks and muttered whispers quickly hushed. The clatter of hundreds of shoes was supplanted by hesitant, slow steps, heading for the exits. Allen and the other members of his threesome followed along swept up in the silent, inexorable tide. Even Chad seemed to pick up and reciprocate the mood.

No one stopped at the playground. The usual groups did not gather at their usual spots. The hopscotch area was forsaken, children walking past it without a second glance. The words of the principal were heeded. The children had been trained well. They were prepared for this day. Within 5 minutes the school yard was completely deserted. The only sound came from a squeaky swing as the wind slowly pushed it back and forth.

***

The Triumphant Trio turned onto Birch Lane. Few words passed between them. Heads ducked, a few furtive glances exchanged. Every now and then a chilly fall breeze would whip around them, carrying a few leaves across the sidewalk. Other than that, the boys walked in silence.

Almost as if they could sense its presence, and all of the same mind, the boys crossed the street in order to skirt the gate. Despite his better judgment, Allen risked a glance. In the distance, on the hill, the willow tree danced in the wind. Its massive low hanging branches skipped across the ground. Allen imagined that he could hear the branches clacking together, even over this great distance, and to his young ears the noise sounded like macabre laughter. It gave Allen the impression that the tree was eager, full of glee for the upcoming events.

A shiver ran itself along the length of Allen’s spine, and he quickly jerked his gaze back down, staring at the pavement as he placed one foot in front of the other. He wished he hadn’t looked.

Soon, not as soon as they would have liked, the trio were outside Allen’s house. The air had already grown noticeably colder, and the light was starting to wane, fading faster than usual. Shadows of streetlamps and trees began stretching across the pavement, long skinny fingers searching, searching.

Mike, the brave one, barely looked at his friends as he gave them a perfunctory wave. He quickly turned on his heels and high-tailed it to his house across from Allen’s. Allen couldn’t blame him; he felt the urge to run home himself. He turned his attention to Chad.

“Alright, buddy. Remember, head straight home, okay?”

“I won’t be late for my dinner plate!” Allen couldn’t help but smile despite the situation.

“Straight home, Chad.” Chad gave Allen his usual grin and enthusiastic nod before turning and heading home. His house was at the end of Birch Lane, on the other side of the curve, just out of view. For a while Allen stood and watched, torn between walking his dear friend home and heading home himself. He had just made up his mind to escort Chad when his attention was drawn by a frantic banging.

He turned and looked at his house to see his mother pounding hectically away on the window. When she saw she had his attention she began forcefully gesturing, and the look in her eyes left no doubt about her intentions. Allen regretfully put all thoughts of chasing Chad from his mind and bounded up the stairs to his porch and into the safety of his home.

If Allen’s mother hadn’t gotten his attention in that instant, if he had just kept watching Chad as he rounded the curve, if he had looked a moment longer, he might have seen his best friend trip.

***

Chad had skinned his hands in the fall. It was okay, though, he fell often. He was used to it. His shoelaces had come undone again. They were the culprits behind his loss of balance! He looked around expectantly, waiting for Allen to tie his shoe for him. Then he remembered what Allen had said this morning. Allen wasn’t here to help him.

A fierce light of determination began to glow in Chad’s eyes. An idea began to formulate in his slow mind. He would tie his shoes himself and make Allen proud. With his giant grin on his face Chad eagerly set to work.

“Loop once, loop twice…”

***

Allen’s mother reached through the gap in the door and pulled her son into the house. She hugged him tightly. After she had satisfied herself that he was indeed real and home safely she pushed him out to arm’s length and glared at him.

“What in the world were you thinking?!” she demanded. “I told you to come straight home!”

“I was just going to make sure Chad got home and then I was going to run right back!” he protested.

“No Allen! No! You know the rules!”

“Okay, I’m sorry! I got it. Mary’s coming.”

***

Throughout the town of Willow Falls all the preparations for the night were the same. Doors were locked, curtains were drawn, and parents gathered up their children. They huddled together in whatever room they felt the most secure, hoping the events of the night would pass quickly. It was no different in Allen’s home.

He and his mother sat in the living room, lights dimmed. She hadn’t let him out of her sight since he’d gotten home. Every few seconds she looked his way, verifying he hadn’t disappeared.

***

Sometime between the late afternoon and dusk, Willow Falls changed. The cold deepened even more. Darkness seemed to envelope the town, bringing with it an unnatural silence. The wind slowed, and then eventually petered out altogether. No birds chirped, no squirrels squeaked. It was as if the town was a void, no sound, no movement, and at the epicenter of this lifeless black hole stood the willow tree.

In that dead, deafening silence, the town waited. In that silence, the heavy, oppressive silence, Time itself held its breath. And into that silence came a squeal. The cry of tortured metal reverberated throughout the town as centuries old rusted hinges were forced to grind against each other. On and on the sound came, setting nerves on edge and jaws to clenching. After an unbearable amount of time, the squealing thankfully stopped. The gate was open.

For half a heartbeat all was deathly still again. Then the whistling began. A slow haunting tune that carried on without end. A horribly unnatural sound that never paused for breath. It came under the doors, through the walls, found its way under pillows and through fingers, found its way in despite all efforts to keep it out. A ceaseless barrage of a nightmarish melody that searched out every soul, eroding strength and engendering despair. The whistling was the herald. Mary had come.

***

Allen and his mother clung to one another. Eyes were squeezed tightly shut against the terrible, incessant whistling. The tune blotted out all else, muted all thought, leaving only the desire to cower in fear.

When the first footstep was heard on their porch they both held their breath. Slow, even paces took the steps one at a time, not in the least of a hurry. One by one the heavy steps came closer to the door and stopped.

The knock came, causing his mother to jerk and let out a little scream. She squeezed Allen to her all the tighter, rocking back and forth, whispering “No no no…”to herself over and over again as if it were her mantra of protection.

Another knock, not at all ungentle, almost shy.

“Please…” came the voice, a little girl’s. “Please…let me in. It’s so cold, and I’m hungry.” It was a pitiful plea that tore at the heart.

A third knock.

His mother was in tears now as she pressed his head to her chest. “Just go away, Mary.” She quietly pleaded.

“Please, it’s so cold. I’m hungry.” A fourth knock. “Please…”

“Leave us alone!” his mother shouted, fear lending power to her voice. On the other side of the door came an infinitely disappointed sigh. The weighty footsteps turned and slowly receded back to the road, leaving them to their isolation. Allen and his mother shared a look that communicated much. They were relieved that their trial was passed, but they knew they were not the first, nor would they be the last.

The ritual was repeated again and again throughout Willow Falls. Always the timid knock, followed by a heart-wrenchingly pathetic plea for shelter from the cold. And always hungry, always so hungry. The whistling continued on.

***

Success! He had finally wrestled the tricky laces into a knot. Chad was extremely proud of himself, and he couldn’t wait to tell Allen. Chad stood with a rare smile of self-satisfaction. Few and far between were the moments when he accomplished something on his own.

It was then that he noticed the whistling. He had forgotten! His mother, the principal, Allen, they all had told him to go straight home, but he had tripped. He had been so focused on tying his shoes that he had lost track of time. His house was only two doors down. He could see his mother in the window screaming through the glass, willing him to get his feet moving. He could still make it home, he still had time.

He took a step. Too late.

“Please…” the voice came from behind him. He could see the despair in his mother’s face, hands clutched to her chest. She was sobbing. He knew he should run. He knew it, but he couldn’t make his body work. Fear paralyzed him. “Please look at me.”

“N-no…” he stammered. His heart raced in his chest. Tears flowed freely from his eyes, matching his mother’s.

“Look at me please!” the voice beseeched.

“I’m not supposed to. I should have gone home.” No rhyming now, he was too terrified. His eyes watched his mother through the window. Her face drained of all blood, her eyes rolled back, and she fell out of view. “Allen told me to go home. My momma is w-waiting.” By now his whole body was trembling.

“Look at me.” Not a plea anymore.

“Allen told me…” His slow mind, dimmed further by terror, barely registered the warm stain spreading down his pant leg.

“Look at me!” The final command sapped the last of his meager resistances. His body was no longer his own. He managed a few whimpers as he was forced to turn and look at Mary.

***

The whistling was different now. Still haunting, yet a subtle undertone was different. Something had changed.

Allen’s mother noticed it just as he had. She scooted to the window and pulled back the curtain just enough to peek out. She gasped, covering her mouth with her hand.

“Oh poor Martha!”

Martha? That was Chad’s mother! Panic filled Allen’s heart. Before his mother could react he yanked back the curtains so forcefully that they fell from the rods. There! Mary was just out of his field of vision, but he could clearly see the small inert form that was being dragged behind.

“Chad!” Allen beat his fists against the glass. “Chad!” Logic and reason were forgotten in worry for his best friend. He raced for the door, prepared to charge out into the cold. His mother was faster and tackled him from behind.

“No! Stop, Allen! You can’t help him, baby!” For a moment they wrestled around, but she used her superior weight to keep him pinned to the floor.

“I told him to go home! How did he forget?” Guilt and shame drained Allen of any energy he had left to fight his mother. “I should have walked him home! How did he forget?”

***

Somewhere in the middle of The-Park-That-No-One-Entered an innocent, simple-minded boy began to scream. It was a scream of anguish, a scream of terror, a scream of pain. The scream carried on until it was drowned out by another scream. This was the scream of tortured metal as the gate once again began its harsh journey. The whistling stopped. The gate closed, not to open for another year.

The wind began to blow, leaves began to skitter. Birds chirped and squirrels squeaked. It was as if Time began to breathe again and life returned to the dead void.

Somewhere another boy sat, lost within himself, lost to his grief. His eyes wide open, staring at all, seeing nothing.

“How could he forget?”

Loop once, loop twice…

Someone always forgets.

Credit To – The Fox God

[dracoskullonmain]

""Did you just... cut the cheese?"

This IS a one sentence prompt BTW, and it's not actual sin. I 'keep reading ' it because there are subtle refrenxes to sin, but no actual sin.

What follows is comedic content unsuitable for children dye to refrences of adult, viewer discretion is advised.

“Did you just… cut the cheese?” The incredulous giggling bubbling out of the bluenette’s lips high above him only served to confirm the blond model’s worst nightmares as he stilled from his seat below her.Everything had been so perfect up to this point. Chat had finally, FINALLY, convinced Ladybug after five long years to give him a chance, to actually go on a date with him. He’d pulled no punches for his Lady, reserving only the best restaurant, procuring the best articles to create two convincing disguises, and planning the perfect evening to show Ladybug how he truly cared. She accepted it all, allowing their little date to blossom into a full blown secret relationship. Sure it was rather difficult for Adrien to hide the fact he was dating Ladybug when he just wanted to scream it to the world, but it was just as enticing to keep it his own little secret. They’d been dating for months now, when they decided to try something a little more… unique. With a lot of planning, a great deal of lying, and some well timed excuses, they’d met up incognito at a hotel nowhere near where either of them lived, to have a fun night in. All the necessary precautions were in place from the pill to a condom, and whatever else the two could think of, and after a few drinks and a lovely dinner, they’d gotten undressed say for a cloth tied over their faces, and got down to business.Adrien would have been lying if he said he wasn’t nervous about it since it was his first time, but he hadn’t expected himself to be that nervous. He’d seduced Ladybug onto the bed, gotten her legs spread, and just barely managed to get a taste of her true essence when he felt it tear forth from his bowels. It had been so silent in it’s approach he hadn’t noticed a thing till it was already too late. Like the god of destruction itself, the silent assassin ripped free from his behind with no amount of subtlety, slicing through the air before leaving a dead silence in it’s wake. At first, Adrien prayed to any god who could hear him that it was just his imagination, but the muscles around his face began to quiver as an unmistakeable melodious tune threatened to slip from the sweet pink lips of the girl who’s fingers were still buried in his hair. That question only served as the final nail in the coffin of his libido. Ladybug started to rock on her hips, trying desperately not to ruin this any further, but the sounds were slipping out as Adrien’s face turned deeper shades of red with every noise she made. This was not how he planned this night to go at all.Looking away from her, his cloth mask slipping away from his face as he’d moved it to gain access, Adrien tried to offer some sort of excuse to pardon his actions, only to realize the room had gone dead quiet, the muscles of the girl holding him freezing. Had it truely been that bad of a moment? Adrien cast his eyes to the face above him, only to turn to stone as green eyes met panicked yet ecstatic blue in an awkward dance. A single name echoed in his mind, and not the name that slipped from her lips.“A-adrien?”—————————————————————————————————-I was gonna go a comical route and have it be a gas born akuma making everyone fart uncontrollably, but then i had this dream last night of a similar situation involving two completely unrelated characters, and just HAD to write itSO have some sin Squirrellygirlart, cause i know that’s what you were totally expecting outta this one~Send me a sentence and i’ll write a story in 5 sentences (Or more. probably more cause i cannot control how much i actually write)