#and i love that i might confuse some people with this

[circeyoru]

Love Trial = Requested

The Requests

[Sung Jinwoo x High School Ex-Lover!Reader]

Sung Jinwoo. The Hunter who was praised for his bravery and selflessness, the Hunter who was the embodiment of Cinderella, and the Hunter who was hailed as a hero no matter where he went and how he acted. All because he acted for the good of the people around him, be it former foes or strangers in another country, he protected all. He was humanity’s strongest shield and sword against the dangers of the monsters within the vile Gates.

Yet to you, his shining image was clouded with the shadows that surrounded him. In your memory of him, one stood out more than the rest, more than the good deeds he’s done, more than the joyous memories you made with him.

“I’m sorry. Let’s break up.”

His words pierced your heart and body like no other. The shield you held over your heart was long gone and the walls you built around you long crumbled, all because of the knight in front of you. You can’t say you didn’t expect it, you have and mentally prepared yourself, still… It hurts oh so much.

“I understand. I wish you happiness, Hunter Sung. May your days be nothing of smiles and content.”

And you turned and left to hide your tears. Even knowing that Jinwoo would one day leave you because he was stronger now and would have more and better choices, you craved—clung—to the fantasy that he wouldn’t leave you behind after everything that you’ve done for him. You drank till your body couldn’t handle and your bartender friend called in your reliable friend from back in your college days. You cried in his chest. Why? Why weren’t you a Hunter as well? You could have done more! More for your dearest lover! Maybe then, you wouldn’t be abandoned. 

That night was agonizing to live through. It was the worst day of your life. Perhaps, you were in love with the idea of love. You and Jinwoo did fall for the other over some silly comment and gossip from your classmates, then you started seeing the other differently. You two thought they were right and loved each other like actual lovers. How immature of you. Look what that led you?

It took some time, but you recovered with the help of your college friend. He helped more than you could ever thank him for. If he weren’t such a workaholic or that heated up then maybe your heart could have been swayed. Still, you knew for a fact; that you couldn’t—wouldn’t—be in another relationship any time soon.

When the world appeared to be coming to an end, you stared out your apartment window and sighed. Jinwoo must be saying his final farewells to his loved ones; his mother, his younger sister, that brother of a Hunter Jinho, and his new lover Cha Hae-In. It didn’t ache as much now than before when you thought about their official relationship and Jinwoo moving on so quickly while you took your time recovering. Now, you were fine with the time you had for yourself.

Your phone rang and you picked it up without a thought, a voice spoke from the other end. “World’s ending, thought I should check up on you.”

“How nice of you.” You chuckled from your end and retreated back into your apartment and away from the window, “Aren’t you busy with your guild affairs to call me?”

“I can still rest, can’t I? Here I was being nice and now I’m scolded.” You hummed, knowing the man from the other end heard it loud and clear. There was a pause before he continued, “Any regrets? Might as well say it since the world is ending.”

“Why should I tell you?” You meant it as a tease since you two have been close and shared a lot with each other. Way more that people could have confused you two as lovers at some point.

“Think of it as a goal for your next life. I wish we had our silly friendship and that there were no more beasts to fight off so I could work.”

You remained silent for a while. What would you wish for? What was your regret? You glanced over to a corner, you know it was because of the lighting that there was a shadow, but you couldn’t help but be reminded of a certain someone. Your lips moved while your eyes were glued to the shadow, speaking your mind, “I regret having let down my guard for him. I wish… I never met him.”

Whether it was the heavens taking pity on you or cursing you, you can’t tell. The moment you woke up, you were back home and alive. The only difference was that you have shrunk. No. That’s too light of a term. To be more specific, you have turned back to a child. It made no sense whatsoever that it was a dream. A dream too realistic since you could feel the clothes covering your body and the wind against your skin, even smell the familiar cooking of your parents. Not to mention, eat it!

You accepted it as reality when a week passed and nothing changed. You figured that you were reliving your life due to regrets. Or maybe a lot of people had regrets so everyone is reliving their lives right now. Yet you were the only one who seemed to have remembered anything about Hunters and Gates. Well, the moment you realized that, you shut up and said it was all a dream to anyone you asked, a child’s fantasy is wild after all, so none was the wiser. 

First things first, though, you had to avoid being in the same high school as Jinwoo. Easy enough as you had another school that was much closer to your apartment now. It was so easy for you to change your future since you were the only one that know what would happen. Cha Hae-In is Jinwoo’s fated lover, so at some point, they’d meet each other and fall in love. No surprise, but you want to be away from that drama.

“Dear! Can you get the door for me?” Your mother’s shout brought you out of your musical trance.

“Yes, mom!” You placed your violin down and hopped onto the couch. Your footsteps pitter-patter through the floor. You reached the door and opened it, knowing the metal fence as the outer door was closed to protect you in case of an attempt at breaking and entering. “Who is it—?!”

The bright red hair and the matching red eyes, you recognize them anywhere. The boy in front of his parents smiled with his head bowed to give his greetings. “Hello! I’m Choi Jong-In, your new neighbour. I’ll be studying at XXXX Middle School if you want,” His closed-eyes smile softened as his eyelids opened again to meet your shocked gaze. “We can walk to school together.”

Words seemed to have been sucked out of your mouth as you stared at the boy. Your parents had come to the door and welcomed the boy inside while you were still in a daze. In the past, you had never met Jong-In this early; you met him when you two were in college and Jinwoo in high school. Perhaps because you avoided meeting Jinwoo, now you met Jong-In. Well, you can’t complain. It was a good change.

“What a coincidence! We go to the same school.” You smiled back and introduced yourself. He repeated your name, and a wave of nostalgia washed over you. And so started your friendship with your former best friend from your past life.

.

. 

.

As time passed, days turned to weeks, weeks turned to months, months turned to years. There were no such things as Gates or Hunters or even mana. Everything was just perfectly normal, just as you pleased. You momentarily looked up from your phone at the cluster of people before you stared up into the sky. Your eyes widened as you caught sight of what appeared to be a Gate in the sky. Even after a few moments, nothing happened, and no Hunters were awakened. You couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief.

You passed by an ice cream shop and wondered if you should grab a cup of ice cream while waiting for your friends. Your attention was taken away when your phone buzzed and you looked down once more to see what the notification was about. Ah, your friend’s here.

You walked away from the shop and entered the crowd, entirely missing the boy who rushed out of his seat from the window table and tried to catch you. You heard your name being called out, and you went in that direction, finding the redhead waving his hands in your direction. You chuckled and went over to him. “Hey.”

“Hey to you too, let’s get out of here. It’s so crowded.” Jong-In placed his arm around your shoulders and led you away from the crowd. 

When you look back up at the sky, nothing happens, and the crowd starts to disperse. As you and Jong-In chatted up a storm, ignoring the chatter around you two, you also didn’t notice how the boy had stared at you longingly with guilt and envy in his eyes while the shadows around him twisted and swirled, reflecting his conflicting emotions. 

.

.

.

“Have you heard? That running star, Sung Jinwoo, is going to this college too!”

“I heard! I also heard he’s still single too!”

“You think I got a chance with him?”

“No way. I heard he’s a heartbreaker! Even Cha Hae-In’s no match for him.”

“Aw… That’s crazy.”

You stood up and moved to another seating area with a deadpan emotion. After finding a good seat, you sat down and returned to whatever you were doing on your phone. Up until now, you had been able to predict what happened since that was the point in time that Jinwoo went to become a Hunter. Basically, since high school, you were on your own. You managed just fine because the moment you weren’t in the same school as Jinwoo, it was the same as you never having to meet each other. Even better as it saved you from heartache and unnecessary emotions.

Still. You were beyond confused as to why Jinwoo wasn’t together with Cha Hae-In when they were so lovey-dovey in your previous life. There’s no way you heard it right. Gossip is just that, gossip. It’s never true, and even if some parts are, the majority of them are twisted to match whatever the listener and speaker want to hear or know. 

The students in the lecture hall suddenly squealed as they all whispered about the newest student who came in. You glanced up and huffed with a smirk, watching with a teasing look at Jong-In, who was called by men and ladies alike. He was popular, after all. He came to your seat and gave you that gentlemanly smile, “Come on, you free to go now?”

��Geez, not sure. I feel like sitting a bit longer.” You taunted shamelessly.

You watched as his eye twitched and his smile widened dangerously. “Don’t be such a tease. You know we’ll be late for lunch.”

“Lunch is a whole few hours long; we can afford to be late for a few… say… 30 minutes or so?”

At your words, Jong-In immediately started packing your belongings for you, strapping your bag over his shoulders, then pulling you out of your seat and dragging you out of the hall. People all cooed in your direction, some even whistled. 

You let him do so until you two were in a more secluded hallway when you spoke up. “You know I was just teasing. Who told you to be so popular?”

“And here I thought having you around me would ward off people…” Jong-In sighed, finally letting you go of your hand. “Sorry for being rough.”

“It’s no big deal.” You shrugged and took back your bag. “So, the confessions are still sky high?”

“Not sky high, but still a number of them.” Jong-In fixed his glasses, raking his hair with his fingers, “Seriously, I just want to focus on my studies and get started on my work!”

You and Jong-In have been close and the best of friends, in the past and current life. In both lives, he was basically married to work, or study at the moment. Jong-In had no want for romance, and you avoided the whole romance thing, so both of you came to the agreement of being a fake couple to ward off other people. Since you two were close enough to do what couples do without feeling romantically attracted to the other, well, nothing like kissing but hand-holding and hugging was acceptable.

Jong-In looked over to you, who was still very much unaffected and chill about everything. The winds seemed to pick up when his words escaped his lips. “What will you do if Sung Jinwoo finds you when I’m not around?”

Your eyes darted to his before you blinked and looked out the window, “I doubt it. Let’s just say I have a strong feeling that he’s making a mistake if he does come to me.” You smiled at Jong-In while your eyes seemed devoid of light. “I’ll just direct him to the right one.” You blinked and, like a switch, returned to normal. “Why the sudden question?”

A finger of his pointed behind you, “Because he’s coming in this direction and I don’t think it’s a coincidence.”

Note: First part out! This request has been sitting in my inbox for a while, sorry it took so long. As you could tell, I had other stories and stuff to do. But it's out! Thoughts, everyone?

Circe Y.

My Works: MASTERLIST

[chococara25]

Thanksgiving

AU where Buck woke up, thinking about Tommy and decided to cook for Thanksgiving, baking crusty pecan pies & pumpkin pies, delicious green bean casseroles and sweet potato gratins, cheesy cauliflower cheese with turkey bacon bits, creamy mashed potatoes and the classic stuffings.

After done with baking and cooking, he realized he had no one to give it to (Everyone would just give him weird looks if he brings everything to potluck Thanksgiving dinner, plus they had forbid him from cooking) and wondering if he should donate to the homeless shelters cos at least someone can sleep warm with a full stomach when Lucy Donato texted him out of nowhere complaining how everyone is swamped in calls all day long and how hungry they are including Tommy, who came in to cover someone's shift and EPIPHANY!! He can just give them to the 217 AND check on Tommy at the same time.

He starts to pack everything before separating some food into different containers and stick a sticky note on each of them. He then unload the bread loaves and cookies he had been making for the past week into a basket cos waste not, want not right?

Tommy coming back from a weird call involving some idiots trying to make turkey barbacoa in their backyard when he saw everyone gathering around the dining table, stuffing their face, moaning about the delicious food and praising the cook.

He was confused till he turned around to see Evan of all people staring at him, unruly curls and dark circles under his eyes.

"Hey. Lucy said you guys haven't eaten all day." Evan looked awkwardly at him.

(At the corner of his eyes, he can see Lucy slunking off guiltily, carrying a whole pie and weird a plate of cupcakes with her)

Evan looked as if he wanted to say something but looked away, his lips twisted unhappily. He pushed a bag full of containers and a basket full of bread and cookies at them before running away.

Tommy hid in one of the closets, checking the bag and basket, its contents each marked by a sticky note.

The Banana Loaf - "Everytime I think of calling you, I baked instead. Now my fridge is full but I'm still thinking about you."

The Snickerdoodle cookies - "Jee asked where cool uncle Tommy was. She misses her tea party partner."

Vanilla and raspberry mascarpone loaf cake - "I can't stop thinking how you would enjoy all the cakes and pastries I made for the past few months."

green bean casserole - "I still have your clothes and I kept wearing them to sleep cos its the closest thing I have to you because I have a hard time falling asleep without you holding me in your arms"

Carrot cake loaf - "I saw a helicopter today at work and I wonder if it was you flying it. We never did have that flying lesson."

cauliflower cheese - I'm sorry I never told you I love you when I really do. I love you and I missed every single minute the moment you walk out of my life.

pecan pie - I'm sorry I said the wrong things when I asked you to move in with me. I'm sorry I too much in the end for you and drove you away."

pumpkin pie - I'm sorry you felt pressured but I didn't lie, I really admire you and your confidence made me feel safe, being with you was like waking up for the first time from the lightning coma, I could breath again and you were the one who set me free.

sweet potato gratin - "You said you were my first but not my last. Tommy, you might be my first boyfriend but you definitely my last."

stuffings - "You are my beginning and my forever happy ending. I have no interest in looking for a different happy ending if you're not in it."

By the time he reached the last container, his eyesight were blurry with unshed tears.

Brownies - "Can we try one more time? I'm not ready to give on us."

Tommy was startled when the door to the closet swung open, Captain Pruitt looming over him with a plate of pecan pie in her hands. "I saw firefighter Buckley earlier when he dropped off the food. I don't know what's going on between the two of you and why both of you decided to break up, but Kinard, that man looks as if he still in love with you."

She panicked as Tommy burst into loud tears, holding the container of brownies to his chest.

Evan was cleaning up his kitchen, he was too tired and too emotionally wrung out to stay for the Thanksgiving dinner other than dropping off the last two pies for everyone to enjoy.

He frowned when he hear the doorbell, wondering if Maddie is going to stage another intervention on him when he opened the door, before staring in surprise.

Tommy was standing in front of him, still wearing his flight suit, holding the container with brownies and the sticky notes in his arms.

"Can we talk?" He asked with hopeful eyes.

Evan pulled him into the loft, closing the door behind them.

[eldritch-spouse]

I'd like to send a formal apology to Morell, Obie and Zizz for how quickly and effortlessly Tristalis was able to steal their spots in my heart.

Like low-key, Tristalis sounds like the best choice out of all your characters regarding like romantic situations. It could be because we haven't been exposed to his darker traits, but it just seems so far like he's just so sweet but confused regarding like human customs. I just want to cuddle up with him and smother all three of his heads with love and affection.

and the fact that he makes stuffed animals? My biggest comfort item and like just a big love language of mine? As soon as he gives me that stuffed animal on that bus I'm here blushing and crushing immediately.

How would Tristalis react to a romantic interest who gets all giddy and flustered when he gifted them the stuffed animal. Like they're immediately smiling all wide and hugging the stuffed animal to their chest? Just absolutely fawning over it, even tho he can't understand anything they're saying he can practically see the hearts in their eyes.

He's my husband now, he's got no choice- he's gonna be walking down the aisle in a wedding dress by next week. >:(

[Imagine getting mogged by Tristalis rsrsrs. He can be decidedly scary, but he's more permissive than a few of the monsters here.]

Tristalis has had positive reactions to people who see his plushies. Many have come up to him to buy them without the monster even having to do much of anything except rearrange them in public. He's flexible with prices, but not someone who can be scammed easily- Because, even if he's not well-versed in surface customs, he knows the basics of plenty of currencies. Sometimes a child will try to trade a plush for something rather inadequate, and if Tristalis is in a good mood, he'll just give a plush away for a bag of candies.

The only adult Tristalis has ever given plushies to is you. And Lords, does your reaction have him glowing.

He'd been scheming which one you might like best, mostly based on what you were wearing or the color of your eyes and hair. To know that he hit the nail right on the head has him sighing audibly. The Starbeast may not be fluent in your language, but the beam of your smile and the shine of your eyes is all the answer he needs to clap to himself in happiness.

The problem here is that Tristalis is excitable.

He sees you hugging the stuffed plush to yourself and suddenly wants to ramble, mixing words up in an attempt to talk, to let you know more about his crafts.

At some point he just gives up on words altogether, all three heads bobbing occasionally with glee as he shows you other plushies, gives you skeins of yarn to feel and even requests your opinion on possible designs he poorly sketched (drawing is not in his deck of skills, for sure).

Depending on how receptive you are to Tristalis' attention, he may get immediately sidetracked and just follow you around like a lovesick puppy. He can even make smaller things if it guarantees you'll look at him with the same amount of awe you did before.

[mc-lukanette]

"Luka, do you believe in soulmates?"

Luka nearly stumbled after that question left Marinette's mouth. While conversation was common between them on their walks - regardless of if it was a walk to go somewhere together, a walk to find inspiration, or a walk to simply walk - he hadn't expected a topic like that.

Just about anyone wouldn't, actually, not when a vast majority of the population had soulmate marks. Luka himself sported one, as did Marinette.

He looked to her for clarification, but her gaze was distant, drawn up towards the sky like it might give her whatever answer she was looking for. Wanting to consider her question seriously, he asked, "Are you talking about destiny?"

"No ...maybe?" Her brows furrowed and she appeared just as confused as him by her own thought process. Throwing a hand out in exasperation, she tried again, "We're chosen. That's the idea, right? Because someone, or the universe, or something did it?"

"Yeah?" He supposed that was accurate even if he didn't know himself. No one could ever agree on the true cause and evidence was nonexistent, so it was largely left up to interpretation.

More religiously-inclined individuals would call it a God giving people a sign of their all-knowing nature, or giving their approval of two people being together. Depending on one's view, that theory ranged from being about a holy entity asserting their omnipotence to being about the most powerful shipper to ever exist trying to pair up the population to their liking.

For others, it was just a force of the universe, whether a conscious one or not. The way the marks changed as cultures did could answer questions about that, or it may only add them.

Some theories left it down to the individual: that people were magical or that their souls called out and found another, which ultimately manifested in a soulmate mark.

Luka didn't know, and it wasn't something that kept him up at night. The pondering of why soulmate marks existed and what they truly meant held about as much weight to him as why some random person on the other side of the world chose to eat an apple instead of an orange that day.

Of course, it wasn't always like that. There was a time when he was younger when he looked at the mark near Marinette's elbow, listening to her ramble excitedly about who her soulmate might be and what kind of person she hoped they were, and he felt jealous. He'd loved her knowingly for years, probably loved her unknowingly even longer, but he was happy.

In a way, not being her soulmate meant that she had no incentive or suggestion to be close to him beyond enjoying his company. That alone held great value to him, and he liked the simplicity: importance to someone without need of a fancy fate tattoo slapped on at birth to show for it.

"Ugh," Marinette groaned, running both hands down her face. "I get a headache whenever I think about it. It doesn't make sense."

"Which part?"

"Mm..." She pouted. "The good part?"

He still wasn't following, though he did like hearing her talk. He was happy to be her black-and-blue rubber duck if she needed it.

"Everyone thinks that soulmate marks are soooo great," she continued with an edge to her voice, waving her arms wildly, "but they don't always think about who, or what, or whatever's behind it! What if it—"

"Look out."

Luka caught a glimpse of what was about to happen just in time, reaching out to grab her shoulder and pull her back, the honest-to-God cream pie that'd fallen from above splattering on the sidewalk below. He looked up to lock gazes with the person who'd appeared to either accidentally drop or knock it over, but they were already ducking back inside in embarrassment.

Giving a quick glance at her shoes to confirm that the pie didn't get on them, his eyes went to her face next. "Are you okay?"

She didn't answer, staring solemnly at the dessert on the ground, though that may have not been entirely accurate. It almost appeared as if she were looking at things all around it that weren't actually there.

He knew then what was happening in her mind before she spoke again.

"What if it doesn't care about you or thinks you're a joke? What if it gave you a soulmate just for a laugh?"

Marinette had never had good luck. Having known her since they were both kids, Luka knew that for a fact. He'd become so used to it that anticipating and preventing whatever insanely unlucky moments he could was like muscle memory to him. His body simply felt the signs and acted on its own.

Thus, her conclusion didn't come as anything strange to him, however depressing it sounded. The thought that there was some higher being taking delight in... whatever this was, it didn't sound impossible.

Cautious with suspicion of what her answer may be, he asked, "Did something happen with him?"

He normally wouldn't say anything about that relationship, nor do so much as to speak the boy's name. After countless times of watching Marinette lamenting some perceived failure that was, more often than not, either terrible luck or the universe personally spiting her, he stopped bringing it up. It made her miserable to talk about it and he had a dog in the proverbial race, so it was convenient for both of them if he kept quiet.

No matter how much he wanted and also didn't want to know how it was going or if any sparks were flying, that was her business and he would only pry if he felt it necessary. Most of what he knew was simply that she had seen the soulmate mark by accident and her soulmate had yet to see hers.

"Ha," she scoffed, turning her face away from him. "Nothing happened, that's the problem."

She went to keep walking, not feeling right standing in the same place on the sidewalk, and nearly stepped in the fallen pie before he caught her shoulder again. She tossed him a grateful look and they continued their walk side-by-side.

"I just wanted to get to know him better! Isn't it normal to want to know what your soulmate is like?" She huffed, face pinkening in shame. "But any time I try to talk to him, it all comes out wrong and it doesn't make any sense, and not even in a way that makes sense!"

She held her hands out, feigning holding a box.

"And the other day, I put a box of my parents' macarons on his desk with a note on it, but Chloe took it and told him they were from her! He even bought it!" She stopped talking, squinting at nothing as she turned to him and corrected, "Her story, not the macarons."

He nodded along and let her continue.

"Anyway!" She faced the sky with a glare, fists tight against her chest. "Like Chloe would ever be caught dead in my parents' bakery. She wouldn't even take the time out to buy a gift herself unless it was for herself!"

He chuckled, though there was sympathy too. He couldn't imagine what was crazier of a thought: that Marinette's parents would sell to their daughter's bully, or that someone would be unaware enough to believe such a story in the first place. The macarons couldn't have been that good.

Head tilted up towards the sky, she clasped her hands together behind her back and sighed. "Maybe my standards for guys are too high, or I'm missing something about soulmates. That's why I asked." Eyes drifting towards where her partly hidden mark was, she grumbled, "I don't think it's a coincidence anymore that it's where my funny bone is..."

Luka hummed, a question lingering in his mind but not one that was relevant to hers: in all of his knowing her, she'd never dated anyone, so he couldn't imagine where her "standards for guys" had come from, but he thought better of saying it aloud.

Turning his head to look at the rest of the world, so far removed from the little bubble they'd crafted for each other, Luka took in their surroundings: the pigeons flying overhead, the cars passing by, and a couple having snacks at a table outside a cafe. His lips twitched at the latter sight as a thought occurred to him.

"Do you remember when we were kids?" He met her confused gaze. "My favorite Jagged Stone song was Bottomless. I thought it was the deepest song I ever heard."

Marinette snorted, a delightful noise that he always loved hearing. "And when he got asked what it meant, he said..."

With a dramatic groan hearkening back to the emotions of his childhood self, he lamented, "That he was hungry when he wrote it."

Her chest heaved as she snorted again, putting a hand over her mouth as she tried to contain her laughter. It was all in good fun and he had fond memories of her comforting him at the time as if the revelation had destroyed his psyche, wanting to protect his innocence.

"I was devastated," he half-joked as he slipped his hands into his pockets, "but then I realized that it didn't matter."

Her laugh cut off with a choke, shocked by the statement. He didn't blame her, as he'd never really expressed the thought to anyone before.

And Luka Couffaine, not caring what Jagged Stone had to say about his own song? Unheard of.

"It didn't change how I felt about it, or what it meant to me," he explained. "Just because he was the one who made it didn't mean I had to see it the way he did."

Marinette was smart, and he could see the parallel clicking in her head. His thoughts on Jagged's song were much like his thoughts on his mark, or soulmate marks in general, in that he couldn't care less about anyone else's theories or ideas about them. Maybe his mark genuinely meant that the person with a matching mark was destined to be with him, or the exact opposite. Perhaps it was a warning about someone he could never get along with, or there was no person at all who matched his mark.

But he knew how he felt. He knew what he wanted, and it had nothing to do with a nonconsensual tattoo he had on his neck.

"What about you, Marinette? What do you want your mark to mean?"

They came to a crosswalk, the warning sign flashing red. Stopping along with her, Luka's hands fell back to his sides as he waited for Marinette's response. Her gaze was locked to her feet, which shifted against the sidewalk while she mulled over her answer.

"...I don't want it to mean anything. My life's already complicated enough without thinking about what I'm supposed to do about it," she decided. "I don't need a soulmate either, just something simple: someone to talk to, someone who comforts me like I comfort them..."

"I think that sounds great." He beamed, charmed by the promised simplicity.

She continued, voice quieting, "...someone to go on walks with."

...Wait.

She gripped the bottom of her shirt with the hand furthest from him, tangling her finger in the fabric. "Someone to hold hands with..."

Then he felt it. It was the lightest of touches, but he knew with certainty the feeling of her other hand's knuckles brushing his. The way her face pinked at her cheeks only supported that.

It was a question in the form of physical contact: Do you want this? Is this okay?

Without having realized, Luka had fallen into the trap of assuming everything about soulmates without meaning to, contrary to his own opinion. Marinette had put so much weight onto it when they were kids that he didn't dare to imagine anything else but that she wanted them romantically.

Had she really just wanted to get to know them? Or had she wanted him to be sure that she wasn't interested in them first? Was that why she'd asked him in the first place? To know whether it would matter to him or not?

A car driving by, causing wind to rustle their hair, brought Luka back to reality. Not wanting to be misunderstood for even an instant, he took her hand in his and brought it to his chest, holding it there so she could feel his heartbeat.

She gasped, but didn't pull away, staring at their joined hands in awe.

"What else?" he asked, sending every implication at her through his tone.

"Ah—" The pink on her cheeks spread further along her face, but she still answered, "S-someone who will touch my face, like..."

She trailed off, lost for a way to describe it, but Luka needed no further instruction. Taking a single step to be even closer to her, he raised his free hand. Fingers bent, he glided the backs along Marinette's cheek, a pleasant heat coming off of it.

"Anything else?"

She opened her mouth, paused to swallow, then gave him a hopeful smile. With only a hint of shyness this time, she requested, "Kiss me."

He did, his hand going from her cheek to the back of her head as their lips met. Cars continued to pass by, but he couldn't hear them over his heart pounding so loud he could feel it in his skull.

"Lu—" Marinette started to say, but whatever it was must not've been more important than kissing him. She tightened her grip on the hand he'd been holding, the other pulling at his jacket to keep him close.

As if he would've ever gone anywhere but right in front of her. The mere thought baffled him.

When they pulled away, hands still intertwined, it took Luka a few seconds for the world to come back into focus. The crosswalk sign signaled that they could walk now, but he couldn't say for sure whether it had done that recently or if they'd been kissing for so long that they'd missed a prior chance to cross. He couldn't bring himself to care either, not when she held his hand like it was something precious.

She smiled gorgeously at him and tugged him along. He followed after her eagerly, silently wondering if she had any further "requirements" that he could meet.

[hotvintagepoll]

Sid James (Hell Drivers, Carry On Camping, Carry On Doctor, Three Hats for Lisa, Bless This House)—Sid James has the kind of scrungly face that looks like a guy has spent his youth boxing but now breeds canaries. Yes, he became legendary as the kind of bloke who is always happy to eye up the ladies and pull a fast one on the system, but he could also do terrifying gangster and comforting dad who might grumble a bit but will always be there for his family.

Conrad Veidt (The Cabinet of Dr Caligari, The Man Who Laughs)— oh my god look at him in Caligari. I specifically said that he's from this because him as Cesare is just. MMMMM. he's so wet and sad and scrungly. and little. he's like a kitten left alone in a dark alley except he's also killed people (not his fault). something wrong with him (Cesare). as for Conrad himself. oh my god look at him... them big ole eyes and the walk of some fucking thing creature

This is round 2 of the contest. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. If you're confused on what a scrungle is, or any of the rules of the contest, click here.

[additional submitted propaganda + scrungly videos under the cut]

Sid James:

Conrad Veidt:

I mean just look at him. The wet cat energy. The ghostly eyes. He did the monster mash before anybody. Where would we be today without him, he even has one (1) song on spotify. I regularly forget he's dead and wonder what his next movie will be. He slays in any role. The Ultimate Skrunkle.

He's the ultimate scrungly to me, the basis for many of our scrungly guys today. he's so skinny and pale and he wears so much eye makeup

He was THE bisexual goth tumblr sexyman of early film. Seriously the old timey Tumblrinas would send him fanmail about wanting him to choke them. He inspired the designs for the Joker and Jafar,and was nicknamed the “Demon of the Silver Screen” for his horror roles. His first wife divorced him for crossdressing. Hitler sent him hate mail for speaking out about antisemitism. He really loved his wife and told the Germans to go fuck themselves when they threatened his job if he didn’t divorce her for being Jewish. Just look at me and tell me this guy isn’t scrungly he’s like a personification of the emo kid from Horton hears a who

[cw the below clip depicts assault/abduction and could be scary for some viewers]

[igglemouse]

Lets start this day with some big news! Our little Flora is officially too big for her crib which means she's grown some! They do grow fast, don't they? It's almost hard to keep up!

Just look at her! My little princesa! She's wiggling and cooing and happy as can be and what else is there to say? I'm soaking in the moment with her and have little else to say. I just feel so lucky and fortunate and I know I keep saying this but all my love is for her right now!

I would have played with her a little more but I think all that growing wore her out, as it tends to do, so I would let her have her nap and whip up a pizza! Pizzas are easy to make thankfully and this one will just be a regular classic pepperoni as you can't go wrong with that. I think I do make a pretty good pizza pie! That's amore!

I think the scent of pizza brings Pascal to the kitchen but when he arrives he's looking a little sad. I admit, the frown on his face makes me forget for a moment that he's been oogling models in his spare time and I can't wait to offer my emotional support.

"What's wrong?" I ask, putting aside his wandering eyes for just a moment. I bet it has something to do with futbol, usually if he's sad that is why, but I can't ignore one significant difference about him. "You umm, forget to shave?"

"That's just it, my razor broke and I might have to go out like this," he looks so disheartened even as he rubs the new beard that now adorns his face.

"You look great! In fact, I'd say keep it!"

"Well, if you say so."

I can't help but chuckle at how dramatic he's being. "You look fine either way! Actually, I think it suits you! You're a daddy now and it matures you some."

"I guess it's not so bad..." he mumbles although the frown on his face doesn't budge. I remind him that there is fresh pizza in the kitchen so if that doesn't make him feel a little better than I don't know what will.

I've decided not to bring up the model oogling just yet. Eventually, yes, but right now I just don't feel it is the right time. I've thought a lot about it last night but I want to keep those thoughts to the side, not let them consume me. He's a man. I know, that's a poor excuse, but it is also the truth. It is also the truth that really I'm still very very very much into him and that right now is enough for me to set it aside and give him the benefit of the doubt.

Instead, my mind drifts to bigger things, longer term things, another baby kind of things and maybe, hopefully, a proposal. Yeah, the big M. I can't help but wonder when it will happen or...if it will happen.

I'll be honest, I probably would've spent the rest of the night overthinking about Pascal's liking history on Simstagram but the moment I see Flora's little face it grounds me completely. She's the result of our passion and love and I won't throw that away on a whim. Feeding her, holding her, playing with her reminds me of what truly matters.

Oh! She loves to hiccup! That makes her a hiccuper? It's the most adorable thing, it's a squeaky little sound and whenever she does it she almost looks confused as if she's asking 'did I do that?' and I have to remind her to have manners! A little lady doesn't go around hiccuping at others after all!

And I love her so much that I am taking her everywhere I go in my little carrier. Thankfully, she's a quiet one and she's pretty calm about being carried around. Only wriggling and cooing here and there and hopefully taking in what will hopefully be her home for many years to come.

Oh! Also, as I'm out and about, I notice that people are recognizing me? Nothing major, a few waves and hellos along with my name "Frida!" and I can't help but wonder is it from my food stand or me new growing SimTube channel? Either way, it does feel nice to be noticed! There's even a fellow food stand chef who offered me a free hotdog but I had to decline because Flora started to whine and flail, her way of wanting to go back home I think.

Oh, and Pascal did spend time with Flora after he came back from a game. I SWEAR she was giving him the side-eye. I might have ummm vented to her about the traveling eyes of men. Not that she could understand a word I've said but maybe, just maybe, she picked up on it in my tone...or it could be she's unsure of him because she really doesn't get to see him too much, he's always working, after all.

Meanwhile, in the poorer part of town, Sara and Simón were curled up together in his humble trailer. He had called her over saying that there was something important they needed to discuss but it didn't end up being much of a conversation. Instead, he simply asked for her loyalty and her love.

She wanted to, she wanted him to be the one, Watcher how she wanted to. He could be her escape, her distraction, her addiction, her everything, how she wanted every bit of that, but she knows oft times the heart doesn't get what it wants. The brain though, the brain can be a lot more realistic with its desires.

"I know what you are," she said suddenly, the realization blowing past her like a chill breeze. Her hands roamed his chest, the tips of her fingers searching for something, reassurance, maybe? The mystery of him perhaps, the missing puzzle piece that would make this thing between them work.

"I know you'd figure it out," his reply was quiet and his voice heavy. He wasn't shocked. He wouldn't deny it or talk her out of it. He couldn't run from his past like Frida because he had become his past and now as he looked at Sara he wondered if she could ever be part of his future. If she should. The danger he could put her through..."So, what do you think?"

"I don't want this to end," she decided, the words surprising even herself. Maybe, just maybe, he was worth the risk. Love is always worth the risk...

Frida Varela - Next Episode 9.5

[eatmeeraw]

never tell anyone anything ever. never tell anyone anything again.

Escapism.

summary: you’re in her friend group. you two have been close for months and you slowly fell in love with her more and more. you suspected the feeling was mutual because of how attached she was, how she behaved like you two were together, until tara began detaching and avoiding you, not showing up for you nor your friends anymore…

category: angst, hurt/comfort, fluff at the end.

warnings: swearing, idk if my writing is good sorry if it disgusts you, avoidant attachment everywhere, venting, alcohol usage, smoking, dissociation (r doubts she’s alive). portrayals might not be 100% canon. might not be completely proofread. there are mentions of tara’s trauma with amber and some behaviors she has because of it.

word count: 4,9k.

A/N: first fanfic, kinda nervous. i hope everything is okay and some people are going to like this. ethan and quinn aren’t ghostfaces in here, but the group knows they’re siblings, anika isn’t dead, and they’re all still in the friendgroup with the core four. ghostface isn’t present. tara is a bit of a emo who actually lags and denies everytime she feels emotions here. Error 404 kinda thing, but as the fanfic continues she gets better.

you are settled on the couch, your body sinking into the soft, cold, and miraculously still clean cushions, their fabric feels good against your skin, making your muscles relax. you could hear the voices of other people overlapping each other furiously, and smell the scent of alcohol, coca-cola and tobacco mix in the air.

you inhale just because you need to, you didn’t appreciate such strong smells, but you could handle it. you always handled it.

the room is large, but not too overcrowded, making the party feel a little bit less dangerous.

groups of friends are chatting around you, some people are dancing, you could catch some of the guests kissing or directly, shamelessly, making out, the sounds of their lips meeting, their spit, and everything else almost makes you nauseous.

the dim and warm hues of the lights are hitting you and the others, and the music in the background isn’t too loud, but loud enough to set the atmosphere and make people move to the rhythm of the sweet, animated music.

you luckily aren’t alone: sam, chad, mindy, quinn and anika were around you, on the couches, making short and light conversations. not everyone in the group was in the mood for partying, like sam, who was blankly looking at the ceiling, jaw clenching sometimes. you can see especially chad go around and try to flirt with some people, entertaining himself after the disappointment he had with tara. unrequited love always hurts, and you know it all too well. he isn’t the only one disappointed.

mindy and anika are creating the conversations mostly, quinn following them and playing their game every time, ethan, instead, her brother, is extremely silent, looking around like a lost puppy who couldn’t understand how to have fun. he always has been so weirdly shy.

you are lost in your thoughts, until anika talks again. « oh! have y’all seen tara? sam, any news? » before tara’s older sister could talk, chad opened his mouth. « she didn’t even show up tonight…weird. » « yeah, she hasn’t been around lately. didn’t even text back these days. i sent her a message about tonight’s party and she left me on seen…rude » mindy explains, looking at the ground, crossing her arms. you can hear a hint of anxiety in her voice.

« i mean, she has been through a lot- » ethan talks, surprisingly, but his sister interrupts him. « it’s not like her to disappear like that, but…i dunno. » she shrugs, now fidgeting with her fingers, suddenly serious again.

you drown in your bitter thoughts again, as you hear the others talk. their sentences a echo in the room of your fears and your indescribable confusion, making you feel slightly hazy even though no alcohol is flowing in your veins.

« y/n? » quinn calls for you, but you don’t reply, completely zoned out. « y/n… » another time, and this time you look at her, frowning as to invite her to go ahead and say what she needs to say. « when was the last time she replied to you? » she asks, and you grab your phone to check the chat. you scroll up, because ten or more messages were sent by you during those days where she fully disappeared. a worried you. a worried you that was still there, lingering, being the skeleton of your essence. « two weeks ago. »

and the question was asked to everyone else in the friend group: they all hadn’t heard from her since a week ago. they stare at you, and your breath hitches in annoyance and paranoia, as you are the center of the worst type of attention possible. you were sure it was your fault, you probably said something that made her get icky and disgusted, like always. you softly tremble in your seat as they discuss how, maybe, something was going on with you, and then sam talks, interrupting the endless, useless gossip that was gravitating in the air.

« can i talk, now? » she asks, crossing her arms tightly on her chest, head tilting slightly. ethan nods, and she continues her sentence. « she’s okay, just stressed. she’ll return. » her posture was tensed, her jaw just persistently clenched every time she’d close her mouth. you knew something was up, you knew she knew. anika sighs, and everyone nods, except you.

as the context of the conversation shifts, making the previous calmness of your friends come back, you stay there, you remain where everyone was investigating heavily on the girl you always loved.

you just felt the urge to cry: she’s so dear to you, the love you feel is like an eternal explosion, butterflies rising and falling inside your stomach, a soft hand grasping your heart: her hand. when you first started liking her, everything was smooth, like an oiled surface. the feelings were unspoken, no kiss was given, but, oh, how her eyes would sparkle every time you entered the room, every time you joined a conversation, every time you simply passed by.

her cheeks flushed, her softness being between your hands, she was malleable and weak for how much she seemed to care about you but you loved her the way she was. her hands loved to be in your hair, or on your cheeks, her fingers would perfectly interlock with yours, and her arms found comfort encircling your waist or neck.

but, still, at some point, she chose to act like you were dead, like right now.

are you dead? you aren’t sure, you can bet that your heart is beating still. you try to re-focus on your friends, whom you hear giggling in the background, giving one another the entertainment they needed in a similar party.

« so…what’s up with that guy you fucked, quinn? » mindy teases, giggling afterward, making the others gasp. quinn squints her eyes, you see it as a little detail that you actually appreciated about her. but, god, if she, sometimes, was annoying. especially when you were in tara’s apartment and you could hear continuous moans in the background while you were trying to have a normal conversation with tara, or with sam.

« huh, we text here and there…he’s fine, i guess. » she shrugs, like nothing was important, like he was just a passenger, someone that existed in her space just to satisfy her stupid needs once, and then disappeared. « no second date? you’re slippin’, quinn » chad jokes, raising an eyebrow, a hint of startle on his face. sam, instead, wasn’t surprised at all. « no. i’d say i prefer variety. »

« what a shame, anika and i were searching for a couple to go to a double date with. » mindy affirmed, anika nodded in agreement, a little pout painted on her face.

you think about how sweet it would be, to go on their double date bringing tara with you. maybe you would end up in a lousy fast food, or maybe an elegant, cozy restaurant with all her favorite dishes. you sighed, shaking your head softly as you looked around. you gazed at sam again, she was lazily scrolling through her phone, always serious and tensed up.

you get closer to her, whispering, as everyone else is distracted. « ��did i do something? ». tara’s older sister looks up at you, and you see her turning off her phone as she pushes the tip of her tongue against the inside of her cheek. she takes a deep breath before replying. « no, she’s just…complicated. » she looks around almost as if she could be there, secretly listening to your conversation. « it’s not just you. give her space. »

you stare around, still disoriented, if not more than before. you decide to get up and walk towards the table that holds bottles of beer, pouring yourself a cup and tasting the bold, cold bitterness while it fills your mouth and goes down your throat, bringing you relief. you drink a little bit more before everything gets destroyed by something that you didn’t exactly expect.

you see tara, the friend group slowly walking closer to her, and you do the same thing, still holding the plastic cup, now as warm as your palm.

« hey, you made it. » her sister awkwardly says, waving a hand, and tara would just softly nod and wave her hand back. « WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN? » mindy screams and tara giggles, the nervousness was clear, she was avoiding eye contact with every single person in front of her like it would be a potential danger, like it would make the plague come for her body and soul. « we thought you went full hermit mode, dude. »

« i…didn’t think so many people would come. » tara murmured, looking down. felt off, like a withered rose, a rotten fruit, a bleeding pomegranate. tara looks at you, a strange spark in her eyes. you glance at her back, hesitantly, and you feel like death isn’t so bad, suddenly. you are hoping someone would show their guns and threaten everyone to have no mercy upon them in that exact moment. but no one saves you, saviors don’t exist, you remind yourself.

« hi. » she murmurs, forcing a smile.

« hi. » you reply, showing the palm of your free hand, waving it slowly, just a lazy move. she nods and goes away, showing a lack of interest in any sort of interaction between her and the group. they remain skeptical, and you just walk away again, gulping down every single drop of the drink you had in your cup.

a hour passes. you spend it by secretly glancing at tara, or at least trying to, since every time you would set your eyes on her, she would catch the opportunity to make creepy, long-lasting eye contact with you. you hate it, you hate it because you blush, and you can’t help but feel embarrassed by the slight, useless attention she gives you with so much nonchalance. after this, she is surely not going to talk to you again, you think.

the lights that once made you comfortable inside a house you barely knew the owner of, now make you irrevocably disturbed. too intense, too blinding, they would get in the way as you tried to understand what tara was doing, but it actually wasn’t much: talking to sam, looking around, scrolling on the phone, and grabbing drinks.

nothing to see. but everything to think about: many questions would torture your mind, and make your soul beg to leave your body at once. but what did you do? what made tara so distant? is it actually you that is the problem?

you stare at her again. this time, she was talking with mindy and anika, her expression cold, blank, like emotions were nothing to her but ants she could step on and kill with no hesitancy. she shook her head at them, and then looked behind them, at you. her big, brownish eyes scan you, her lips are slightly parted and her expression always neutral, but somewhat altered by something else, looking almost dubious or...scared?

you are the one that breaks eye contact, grabbing a pack of cigarettes that was hidden in the pocket of your jeans, going out of the party, not talking to anyone anymore. you feel too dizzy, too bothered, to even function properly, to even talk to someone without crumbling in a million pieces. you feel almost miserable, too. you have been desperately chasing something that, clearly, wasn’t meant for you.

she doesn’t love you, does she? your gaze hardens as you light up a cigarette with your lighter, looking at the emptiness of the dark night sky, the stars are barely visible and it was saddening. maybe you are like that to tara, too: barely visible, and not worth squinting her eyes for.

you are just a fainting star for her and it destroys you. when are people going to figure out you exist? you breathe, you are alive, are you not? are you dead?

you put your free hand on your chest, searching, looking desperately for the beat of your heart. as you find it you exhale loudly, and your hand becomes a clenched fist.

you feel it, why doesn’t anyone else feel it, too? you grab with force your cell phone from your pocket, scrolling through your new notifications fast, not even glancing at them with great attention. chad asked where you were, mindy called you. it meant nothing. you opened tara’s chat, scrolling up, gazing at the messages you two would send each other.

you smile bitterly, as the phone lights up your face, which was wholly taken by nostalgia.

a month ago

tara 💗: can u come over rn??

you: i don’t know, are quinn and sam around?

tara 💗: no

tara 💗: please? we needa watch the movie we talked about :)

you: alrrrr, coming

memories flash in front of your eyes, her apartment and the sweet scent of hers, the popcorns, her adorable giggles that would give you a reason to exist. you inhale deeply, your lips wrapped around the cigarette, and you almost choke on it as you hear tara’s voice.

« throw that cigarette. » direct, almost mocking, and you don’t look her way, avoiding to even acknowledge the fact she is talking to you. really a coward thing to do. you exhale the smoke, and you watch it get lost in the fresh air of the night.

as you get the cigarette’s orangish butt close to your lips, you feel a hand blocking your wrist, the other grabbing the cigarette by the white casing wrapping around the burning tobacco. you watch the youngest carpenter hurl the item on the ground, putting it out by smashing the heel of her shoe against it with great force, looking at you.

« what the fuck? » you mutter, your cheeks slightly red. is it the alcohol or her presence making you react like that? her cologne was slowly dominating the scent that the cigarette was producing, filling your nostrils, your lungs. you would exhale with great hesitation, aching for the perfume you missed for days.

you, in a rush, turn off the phone, putting it inside your pocket again. your chest feels heavy, your breathing is irregular and you can’t grasp again the control you had before checking the past messages.

« smoking is bad. » tara hisses, and you raise you eyebrows, skeptical by the reaction she has. impressed also by how smoothly she came, how you didn’t notice for not even a moment someone was lurking. you reply, your voice cracking mid-sentence, making you melt in shame: « also alcohol is bad, but i saw you drink with no shame tonight. »

« you did, too. » « so if i smash my head against the wall you’re gonna do it too? »

silence.

you take a deep breath, avoiding watching her in the eyes, you just can’t. confusion is even more marked now, and you bite your lower lip trying to take some of the frustration out of you, but it lingers still, it haunts you totally.

you feel played, like a light that gets continuously turned on and off. now she shows she cares, turning on that light, but those two weeks when the light was off? what did they mean? you can ask her, you have her right in front of you, and the alcohol, somehow, makes you bold, a brave girl confronting the cause of her fears.

« why did you disappear? why was i the first you ran away from? » you question with a shaky voice, and you see her expressionless face falter, turning into something more confusing. is the spark in her eye sadness, or something else?

silence, again. for a few moments, she just watches, as if she didn’t have a voice, as if she was trying to communicate everything telepathically to you.

then, she talks.

you see her hesitate, remain with her lips parted longer than needed, and you wonder what was she trying to cover. « why do you care? i’m here now, so. » she hints a giggle, you know tara is actively trying to ease the tension, somehow. but she’s failing, because your expression hardens more, your eyebrows furrow. « are you serious? » you almost bark.

you slowly feel the anger knock at the door of your throat, wanting to come out. still, you bottled up. still, you swallowed down the loath. you force your gaze to soften. « why do i care? how do you- shit »

you take a step ahead, turning slightly towards the nothingness that is seated beside you and making your shoulders face her for a brief moment. you cover your mouth, taking a deep breath against your palm.

« you think it’s that simple? you think it’s easy to see you walk away without saying anything? you’re my friend, i thought some bad shit happened to you. » you laugh nervously, you see guilt in her eyes as you glance at her, but also…disappointment. like she expected something more.

« fuck, i even talked to sam. you know how awkward it is. » you try to change the context of the conversation as you feel a part of you beg to let the fear out, all the worries she caused, all the paranoia you felt that kept you awake at night. the insomnia, the poignant thoughts that would keep you alarmed.

tara laughs, but it sounds fake, programmed. she slowly turns serious as she sees you not even hinting a smile. « i’m sorry, okay? i just needed space. » she fidgets with the hem of her shirt, almost painfully torturing it. you can see the regret showing, but being denied by tara herself.

« for what? what did i even do? » « nothing. » you huff, befuddled by her ways, she is making you feel like you are in an unlimited limbo. you completely lose it. some tears prick your eyes, you gaze at her almost like you wanted her dead.

« you know what? fine. » you bark, and you walk away with hasty steps, the silence from her was the strongest, most hurtful sound you could feel at this moment. the only thing covering it were your heels striking furiously the ground, until you stop.

your walk gets interrupted by a hand grabbing and squeezing your shoulder, and tara is panting. maybe you walked too rapidly, until now. you gaze at her, surprised and still confused, a tesr goes down your visage. your head is clouded, the alcohol you have inside your body isn’t helping at all.

« okay, i’ll- i’ll tell you. » she says, quietly, taking a deep breath in. you frown, her hand lingers, not letting you go, going down until it reaches your forearm, the grip tightening again, fearing you’d escape, exactly like she did. « i was…scared. » « of what? »

she freezes, looking down at the asphalt beneath your feet, tapping on your shoulder obsessively, reflecting, opening her mouth before closing it again.

a sigh. « i-i mean, you started treating me so w-well and i got- it was so- i didn’t…» « sorry, i won’t do it again. » you shrug, and she squeezes your arm painfully tight. your breath hitches, and as she notices, she lets your arm go. « it’s not what i meant. i…» she swallows hard, putting a hand on her forehead.

« it’s that after what happened…» she stops, putting her hands behind her back. oh, you know it all too well. sam talked to you about it when she felt like you were close enough to them to deserve to know, more as a warning than a demonstration of closeness

she continues: « with…amber. i can’t risk again. » she hesitates before saying her name, almost as if her name was a forbidden word, a spell, a death sentence. it held weight, but she acted like she would show up if she said her name too many times. and the umpteenth confirmation is in front of you: she looks around, looking at the empty streets, checking to see if someone is watching. if amber is watching. « but i’m not amber, tara. » you remind her, crossing your arms.

« i know, but i’m scared. y-you’re so nice and she was too- you know, you know what she was doing to me while she was b-being nice. » she says one word after the other furiously, her voice shaky and unstable, cracking, and she says everything so slowly because sobs would interrupt every word in her sentence, obstacles full of emotions.

you notice tears going down her cheeks, and it makes you wonder when she started crying. you move your hands slightly, nervously, trying to not listen to the urge you have: cup her cheeks, wipe her tears. you just couldn’t, you feel like it would be too much.

« but i don’t want anyone else to hurt you » tara barely nods, fidgeting with the hem of her shirt again, her head tilted. « that’s exactly what amber used to tell me. »

you sigh, having no idea of what to do now, what to say. the young girl saves you, just by declaring something else. « besides…if you don’t kill, y-you’ll get killed. being close to me is a death sentence, really. »

« don’t say that. » you murmur, shaking your head, a shiver of pity runs through you like thunder. you hate seeing her that way. her voice is still there, but unstable. « the next one could kill you. i don’t want you to d-die. » she almost screams, holding up a hand to her neck, like she was choking on her tears. she cries, and she isn’t even able to interrupt her grief, her pointless grief that looks at the future with a negative eye. « who said there’s going to be a next one? » you ask, almost rhetorically, like it was sure the murders ended in woodsboro, and that would dare hunting down tara and sam another time.

not in my story, you think. not when there’s me. you would protect her, no matter what, and at the first suspicious murder happening close to her, you already know you would make whoever wanted to get in the way disappear, in one way or another. but you didn’t know the gravity of the situation, you never were a victim of the attacks, you have no idea how smart a ghostface killer has to be.

tara remains silent again, her silence, every time she would use it, was as bothering as a loud, earth-breaking storm.

she just sobs, and trembles, and you can’t hold back anymore. you wrap your arms around her, pulling her in a hug that you both needed, so much, and you get it, you do, because she wraps her arms around you like her life depends on it.

« it’s okay. » your lullaby of consolation makes her nod, breathing deeply between her sniffs. she tightens her grip, and you only desire to feel all of her attached to you, every limb touching yours. you feel content at the affection, but you want more, her lips looked perfect, smooth, and soft. you wondered how they would taste.

but you couldn’t fuck around and find out, not now. « i know you’re scared, but i’ll be here, okay? we’ll be fine, no matter what. just…please. please don’t run away from me again…i…i missed you, so much. » you whisper, your voice is a restless plead, and you almost break down between her arms.

« i missed you too. » « but…i’m confused, » you finally confess. she looks at you, waiting patiently for you to add context, something that can help her understand what struggle you had. you notice how she calmed down, how she doesn’t sob anymore, how very few tears would fall, compared to how much she was crying before. she looks clueless, and it made your sentence stop for a little more time than how much you programmed. is it just you who wants more?

« the days we spent together…what do they mean to you? » and the question takes a few moments to be answered, as her grip tightens around you, her eyes gazing at you rather than the emptiness of the place. strangely, no one is there, you two can hear the music of the partying flat even out of it, and it relaxes you more because you aren’t alone, you can say you need to go if you want to, if it gets too much even for you.

you wait still, and she sighs. « they’re special, obviously. » « but tara, there’s more. » you notice that as you speak and breath, cold whiteish air goes out of your mouth, losing itself in the space in front of you. is it really that cold?

« i don’t know what you mean. » she shakes her head, and you take a step back. her cheeks are flushed, her body is stiff and as she doesn’t have anything else to grab, her hands clasp roughly.

you falter, shaking your head softly. « it’s nothing. maybe i should head out, y’know, maybe mindy is still waiting f— » « no, wait. » her hands open, she shows her palms, and huffs. « i want to understand. how come there’s more? i don’t even know what that means. »

« you get incredibly close for weeks, you kiss my face, you hug me and struggle to let go, you treat me with…weird sweetness that i have never seen before, especially from you. you suddenly disappear because you’re scared that i’ll end up copying amber, then…you say that those moments are just special. that’s a meaningless reply to me— do you even care? » you vent, a hint of anger mixed with palpable confusion, and the words go out of your mouth faster than you wanted them to.

she widens slightly her eyes, raising her eyebrows. and you know she still isn’t understanding from what place you’re coming from, or maybe she understands? how confusing she is.

« what kind of question is that? i care »

you decide to go all in, your patience wearing thin, as thin as a blade of grass. « then why do you act like you’re in love with me? » you giggle nervously, maybe looking crazy in front of her eyes, maybe looking desperate. she locks eyes with you, and you go ahead and take steps towards the building, fearing her reply, fearing that everything you know is false.

« because i am, y/n » you hear her say from behind, and you turn around, frowning. you are suspecting that what you heard isn’t actually what she is trying to say, and somehow, even if you didn’t say anything, she gets it. « i said i am. »

« how did you— » « you always make that face when you’re lost. » she laughs, getting closer, and that phrase makes you hint a smile. she cups your face with her cold hands, and it makes you shiver, but somehow it feels emotionally warm. a blanket over your heart.

« so what do you think? » she whispers those words, her voice cracking with fear. you feel your cheeks gradually getting hotter and hotter, redder and redder. « i think that…i’m in love with you, too. »

you stop, and her gaze softens. yours does too. « i love you, tara. a lot. i thought you were disgusted by me or…you didn’t want me around anymore. but god, i’m so in love. » you calmly declare, her fingers brush against your cheeks softly, with tenderness.

« i could never be disgusted or change my mind about you, you’re pretty dumb. »

giggles echo in the air, and she leans in, her breaths quiver at the intimate closeness you both have now. everything fades out, and you both look at each other in need, in need for the physical contact you both are craving. she scans your face as your breaths intertwine, and then her lips found yours, after months of research.

it’s perfect, you kiss back without even thinking about it, like you were born for this: to kiss her, to have her with you. you cup one of her cheeks with your shaky palm, the touch is soft and warm, and her lips are too. no anger is held in the kiss, only the affection you both feel, gentle in its essence. your heart stumbles in its rhythm, and you fear that she can hear it beating erratically too.

she breaks the kiss hesitantly, and you don’t know how long the kiss lasted — seconds? minutes? — but it just made you even more infatuated with her. her forehead rests against yours, her brownish hues shining with satisfaction, her lips curled up in a soft smile. you can still feel those lips against yours, or maybe you simply want them to be there again.

but you’re fine, you finally are. there are things you both need to work on, but you know that, until you’ll have her, you’ll be content and wanting to be better.

« i promise i will take care of you. » you whisper, you can’t help but smile, showing your teeth.

« i will take care of you, too. »

[silly-trans-guy]

Okay you all are way too obsessed with Alastor being aroace in this fandom it's weird, first of all Alastor only confirmed asexual but Amir (Alastor's va) said that he was aroace but he corrected himself later on so he is still only confirmed to be asexual now even if you do head cannon Alastor as aroace don't push that on to everyone else cause some people don't because it's not confirmed so don't go saying under every Alastor ship post “oh but he's aroace” but also like aroace people can still date it's a whole spectrum it's LITTLE to no romantic/sexual attraction aromatic and asexual people can still date and have sex, now there is some people who might get the two confused as I've seen people say “but he's ace?” oh a ship post as an ace person I can confirm that asexual people can date asexuality is for sexual attraction not romantic attraction there is a difference love doesn't equal sex, okay so in conclusion aroace/aro/ace people can date and have sex so don't harass fans who ship Alastor with other characters just leave them alone if you see a ship you don't like DON'T CLICK ON IT, any way that's it for this class byee :)

[heartf0ul]

Shitty Hush and doc head cannons cuz I’m bored

- doc made hush a shittily made plush and it’s his favorite

- he thinks shoes are so fuckin weird

- he gets really sad when doc tells him to put on shoes or he can’t go to the store with them

- on that note hush loves going to the store with doc, he’s a little confused but he’s got the spirit

- has tried to lick snails

- loves little critters they’re so silly

- doc once let him watch cat videos on an iPad so they could get work done

- hush tries to copy some animals mannerisms to be more social

- loves watching story bots and was really sad when doc told him they weren’t real (like telling a kid Santa isn’t real sad)

- doc once made him a patchwork sweater and he wears it everywhere

- will pick up things he finds outside and put them in the pockets of his sweater

- doc gave him his own little corner with shelves for his collection

- doc brought him to the zoo and he had an entire conversation with a parrot

- loved the goats in the petting zoo but got unhappy when they chewed on his sweater

- autistic boy level shark lover

- watched a few videos of people doing their nails, got really excited and asked doc if they could do his

- doc tried their best and hush was ecstatic 

Uh the end

I actually had fun doing this so I might do more lol

@mokozroach

[closets-closet]

Dancer + StripClub Owner! Konig

Tell me this man wouldn’t love a good strip club.. Now what if he owned one.

I told yall I would be back, this is very half done and I’ll be honest it sat in my drafts for weeks! I might progress this more, it honestly depends how much yall like it.

Anyways, it’s good to be back, I love you all so very much.

You are the highlight of the shitty rundown club you danced for. You moved to gracefully, hypnotically as you danced around the cool metal pole. The music thrumming through the stage, money covering the area where you dance. Pushing and pulling yourself on the pole in the center stage. You reach your hand out, brushing the faces and hands of a few of the men that are closest to the stage, causing them to throw more money. When your song finishes, you drop to your knees to slowly and sensually scoop up the money, 10’s and 20’s that you stuff in your lace bra. All eyes are trained on you, the way your top pushes your breasts together, or how your stockings and panties cup your plush thighs. You raise back to your feet blowing a quick kiss in the crowd thanking them.

Konig had arrived just as your set started, walking in past the security guards who quickly move out of the way. He seats himself among the crowd, blending in as best he can. Most of the people know of him, they recognize that tell-tale mask that obscures his facial features, making him unreadable. They fear him, so they give him room. He’s got his eyes trained on to your form as you dance across the stage, reaching out, fingers brushing against some of the patrons who eagerly throw their money at you. When your song finishes and you’ve finished collecting your money, the kiss you send out to the crowd sparks something with in him. You’ve piqued his interest, dangerously so.

You’re in the dressing room fixing up your makeup in the cracked mirror. Other girls rushing to make an appearance on stage, queuing their songs with the DJ, hushed whispers being shared between them about the boss being in. You delicately swipe the red lipstick across your lips pursing them as you examine yourself, paying the hushed rumors no mind.

He’s searching for you, stalking about the club, shaking off the other woman that try to cling to his arms. He whispers a few words to the DJ, inquiring about you. Wondering when you started, how often you preform, and what your name is. The DJ gives him a stern look before coughing up your information for a quiet 20$. A sinister grin spreads across his face, he’s got you.

You’re making rounds around the club, feeling your way around customers. Feeling how they stuff money in your top and under your stockings. You were such a sight to behold. He approaches you quietly, a large gloved hand resting on your shoulder.

“Aren’t you such a pretty thing” He leans and whispers against your ear sickly warm breath spreading across your face“Stuck working in a run down strip club leaving with a few hundred dollars a night?” A shiver quickly runs up your spine, his voice chills you to the bone. “I could treat you better” His voice hums, eyes blown wide as you take a step back every, hairs standing on end.

“I’m sorry?” You whisper, a hand coming to rest across the front of your chest, trying to hide the cleavage his eyes seem glued too. “If you keep talking to me this way I’ll go get the bouncer” You threatened voice meak, and quiet against the loud thrumming bass of the music

Konig lets out a sick laugh, his hand reaching out catching the back of your neck, pulling you impossibly close. “Get the bouncer sweetheart, see what they do.” He hums quietly as he pushes you to walk next to him, leading you down a hall of private rooms “You clearly don’t know who I am” he continues breath hot against your neck. Konig suddenly pushes you into a room and you quickly try to find your barrings, never seeing this room before your confused and lost.

The man reaches up, pulling his mask above his lips, the jagged scar that runs across them making you gasp.

“I’m so sorry” You whisper immediately “I wasn’t aware it was you.” You drop to your knees, head hung low as you plead forgiveness of not knowing the boss.

He laughs again, the sound of his belt buckle clinking together, then the sound of fabrics hitting the floor. As his boots thump against the floor infront of you “It’s okay Doll” He whispers a large hand pulling your chin making your eyes meet “You can forgive me how I see fit, and then you’ll come home with me. You’ll never have to work here again, live as my personal pet.”

How do we feel after this, it’s been awhile since I sat down to write and today felt good. I’m also working on a Thanksgiving Johnny post, I feel like he deserves it.

[21milespastblue]

this is pondering mostly onto myself but im little confused by the role of alternate universe powder in act 3. she serves to reconcile in ekko his perception of jinx, to remind him of how good she might have been, remind him of her potential in a way? a jinx that grew up far more supported and less spurned by the world is the best of every merit we've seen in jinx, her creativity and genius, her ability to connect, her compassion for the people she loves (however that may manifest).

something im seeing a lot of the online discussion about this to me is that ekko leaves, mourning somewhat this perfect life that could have been. i believe that as he makes the hard decision to leave that is definitely an aspect of everything that's going on in his head. but the greatest contradiction to me is that i don't think that ekko *personally* loved for alternate jinx. as much as i love me alternate versions of a character, im of the school of thought that loving this alternate person/version is the same as loving your own version. that's not to say that ekko didn't have any affection for her, he showed a great deal, but one can argue that these affections are as much a manifestation of his feelings for his jinx as they are a reflection of his feelings for alt. jinx. ekko's return and reaching out to jinx symbolizes that to me in a way; alt. jinx was a prompting to remember everything about her that's good not in spite of what makes her so complicated complex and difficult to categorize morally outside of grey but because of such. his jinx may have lacked the support that alt. jinx had in the wake of tragedy, may have had her life go to shit in a way that alt. jinx's life quite didn't--but he is reminded she is still very much capable of so much good, to be so much more than she thinks she is.

seeing that any universe i think that jinx is self-doubtful in a sense, not aware of how much value she truly has is an important aspect of the takeaways for ekko's dimensional adventure. aside from a display of his boundless determination and strength of character, ekko is able to fully realize the bulk of who his jinx is at her core. he tells alt jinx he "doesn't want her to change," thanks her for everything. at this point, i feel myself repeating the show; ekko monologues that in getting consumed in all the days the undercity wasn't, he forgot what it was, what it is--that same idealogy applies to his jinx.

to approach redundancy,

ekko: "I gave up on it. Gave up on you."

this was written to appease my own mind! and relate back to my earlier point that alt jinx simply reminds ekko of all the affection he used to and still has for his jinx. i think he loves her in the same way you may love any alternate version of someone you love, but he knows they are not the same. this is sort of response to all the people calling ekko the goat for leaving behind a perfect life with the girl he loves and the world substantially better (he still undisputably is!). but it's just a little different to me, not so much in that he's leaving behind this "perfect" jinx--she isn't his jinx and he's still very much leaving behind an almost ideal reality to his own--but that he's leaving emboldened to "save" our jinx. this relates back to what arcane asserts to be one of its major themes in the series finale. jayce languishes (platonic/romantic/3rd catergory love? sure! not love? no way) to viktor in a way that perfectly encapsulates it; "flaws" are irreparable and important parts of the people we love and are not barriers to love, but its cause. we love people because of who they are, warts and all, and not bc of what they lack.

TL;DR: i think that alt jinx wasn't supposed to be a "perfect" jinx for ekko to leave behind to show how badass he is (purely, still plays that role in some aspects), she's meant to remind him that his jinx, flaws and all, is worth loving and "saving." we love ppl bc of all their fucked up little bits and pieces not in spite of them

[thensocrates]

I loved the movie but I’m still a bit confused on the reason. Kitagawa didn’t hold a grudge, so was it the head of the Ooku causing the Mononoke? Did they clean the bodies out of the well?

ok I might be wrong because I had to rewatch some parts of the movie (AGAINNNNN(

but I think the reason which is described to be "the deep unresolved emotions/grudge that drive one into becoming a mononoke" for karakasa is Kitagawas emotions regarding her getting rid of her friend. She held no grudges against anybody but I'm guessing that she was increasingly getting more depressed ("I realized I was all dried out") because she realized that without anything to live for (her friend and all the possessions that she threw into the well for the Ooku) she practically had no purpose to continue her duties in the Ooku. Also the regret she feels for thinking her friend is irritating and regretting throwing herself away to the Ooku maybe?? (Like throwing her possessions away is symbolism for that idk this is just my interpretation) I think the cause of the mononoke was all of the emotions she felt during these times, then it solidified into an actual form when she killed herself.

Also I'm guessing it (the Karakasa) went after Utayama since she's kinda the one at fault for promoting Kitagawa to a higher rank which caused most of the problems and maybe her attitude towards the people in the Ooku led Kitagawa to get rid of her friend since Utayama probably deemed her friends personality/behavior as problematic. When Kon asks "what did you throw away?" Maybe it's referring to her role in helping Kitagawa ditch her friend

idk if they cleaned the bodies out of the well but to me they didn't (because of that one scene with all the decomposing hands)

btw just my theory since mononoke as a series has always been pretty ambiguous, so this is just my interpretation I could be 400% wrong pls don't take this seriously lolz (⁠･ั⁠ω⁠･ั⁠)

[beef-brisket]

Levi: Alright. Those are very valid concerns and issues, Adam. Relationships need work from both parties. It's not only damaging to your relationship with each other, but also with your daughter.

Lucifer listened. She's only six months old, how much damage could he really do?

Levi: Now, Lucifer. Why sex?

Lucifer blinked, not understanding the question.

Lucifer: Uh... why sex? I mean... look at him.

Lucifer didn't know what else to say. But he knew it wasn't a good answer when Adam rolled his eyes.

Levi glanced at Adam, then back at Lucifer, her hand, and he gave hardening.

Levi: What do you mean by that?

Lucifer: ...He's the first man. He's literally perfection. Who wouldn't want a night with him?

Levi: So... let me get this straight. You value the sex you have with Adam, the first man, over the marriage you have with Adam, the father or your child?

Lucifer tensed: ...That's not what I meant.

Levi: What did you mean, then?

Lucifer: I-I mean... he's amazing. I love him, why wouldn't I want sex with him? And I don't see a difference between Adam and the first man- he's both. Their both perfect and important to me- it's the same person! Adam IS Adam!

Lucifer chuckles and leans back, he smiles at Adam but it drops when he's not even looking at him.

Levi hums and writes a quick note: Lucifer. I'm sure you of all people know what kind of weight titles have. Do you think there's a difference between the king of Hell and Lucifer?

Lucifer: ...I mean... I'm Lucifer... who's also the king of Hell. Is... is there a difference?

Levi: Do you always feel like the king of Hell?

Lucifer: No. Sometimes... I feel empty and cold. Then, when I'm doing work, I feel stressed and fake.

Levi: Fake?

Lucifer: Like it's an act. I'm not put together or even slightly functioning. I'm just... a mess most of the time. I've never felt like a king. Not for thousands of years. I feel like a fraud. A lie. I demand respect, but I don't deserve it. There's no difference between the king of Hell and Lucifer. Their both pathetic. Both a lie.

Lucifer shrugs: I gave up trying to change that. There's no point.

Levi: There is a point. Your daughter. Both of them.

Lucifer froze and glanced to Adam. He was now looking at him, he looked sad but desperate.

Lucifer: I...

Levi: It's not just you, Lucifer. It's never been just you. Charlie is over two hundred years old, but she still needs you. Does she deserve the best version of you?

Lucifer nodded, looking at Levi: Yeah, she does.

Levi: Does Avery deserve you at your best?

Lucifer: Yes. Yes she does.

Levi: Does Adam? Not, Adam, the first man. But Adam. Your husband. The father of your child.

Lucifer: looked at Adam: Yes, he does.

Levi: Then. It sounds like the king of Hell and Lucifer needs to change. For the better. And it's not just them you need to better yourself for.

Lucifer turned to Levi. He really hopes this isn't another pregnancy announcement.

Levi: You deserve it, too. Probably more than anyone.

That was even worse than a pregnancy announcement.

Lucifer: I... what? I don't... I've done... I deserve nothing. I don't even deserve Adam or Avery! Fuck- I don't deserve Charlie!

Levi: ...you deserve love, Lucifer. And compassion and devotion. Both of you do. But Lucifer. You can't change for them, if you don't change for you, first.

Lucifer glared: T-Then I might as well just throw everything away! Because I've done some horrible shit, Lizzy! Hell torments me every damn day! I deserve it! I can't change! How can I!? I deserve no happiness or love! I'm the Devil! The most hated fucking being in existence! Adam even said so!

Adam: Fuck you, Lucifer- that was years ago! Don't you think my opinion of you has changed!?

Lucifer glared at him: Obviously not, if we're here.

Levi: Lucifer. You're attacking him. And yourself. Enough.

Lucifer looked away. He was beyond annoyed and confused.

Levi: You have a lot of work, Lucifer. Not just kingly duties, but personal ones. I'm going to book you in for personal counseling.

Lucifer raised an eyebrow and eyed her: I'm doing personal counseling-.

Adam: Counseling from someone that's not your daughter, dumbass.

Levi: Adam, please. No name calling in my office. I know you're mad. But please try and keep it civil.

Adam rolled his eyes and looked away.

Lucifer: I... don't need counseling-.

Levi: That's what everyone that needs counseling says. Stay behind after this session, so I can organize it for you.

Lucifer felt that there was no way to fight this, so he nods.

When Lucifer and Adam exited Dr Levi's office, they waited for her in the lobby.

Lucifer: ...Great session, huh? I sure learned a lot! It wasn't as bad as I thought it would be!

Lucifer laughed awkwardly after a few seconds of Adam not speaking. Eventually, Levi walked out and got the payment ready. Lucifer watched as Adam paid and headed for the door.

Lucifer: I'll be there in a second, dove! Don't leave without me, haha!

Lucifer organized a few personal sessions, and Levi did a few for Adam to. She handed him three cards with their individual and group session dates.

He thanked her and walked outside. He looked around, and his heart dropped when he saw Adam had left.

Separation Trial

@beef-brisket @things-arent-what-they-seem66

Adam tapped his fingers against the table in a distracted manner. He had been there at the restaurant for a while now. Waiting for his...waiting for Lucifer. He needed to talk with Lucifer, he wanted to talk to him at home about it, in private. However, when he asked about meeting him, Lucifer simply nodded his head and said they could meet at this restaurant.

He didn't even take Adam’s idea at eating at home into consideration. Although the place Adam sat currently was upscale and nice it wasn’t what he wanted to do. This wasn’t where he wanted to have…the conversation. He sighed to himself as he saw Lucifer approach. He barely even said hello before Lucifer kissed him on the cheek before seating himself.

Lucifer: Hello my dearest, what’s going on? Why’d you want to talk at a restaurant? You know we could have talked over the phone. You made it sound so urgent.

Adam took a moment to keep his anger in check. Once again Lucifer wasn’t listening.

Adam: What I wanted to talk to you about couldn’t be said over the phone. It had to be in person. Lucifer we have been married for three whole years now.

Lucifer: Yeah I know, last week was our anniversary. Don’t you remember Addie?

Adam felt his breath hitch and he struggled to not cry then and there. Their third anniversary had been a disaster, he didn’t want to go into it. But Adam had would forever hate that day. It was what made him bring this meeting with Lucifer.

Adam: I do remember, and so should you.

Lucifer: But I literally just said that I

Adam: No, I’m talking about what happened that day. Can you please tell me what happened?

Lucifer was nervous at his husband’s harsh tone but answered him.

Lucifer: Well, I do remember that both of us were so busy, I with handling a fortis problem, then Charlie called and she needed some help with the hotel, and I didn’t get back till late at night. Oh and you had that concert of yours, by the way how was it? I don’t think I asked before.

Adam felt his eye twitch.

Adam: It was not JUST a concert Lucifer.

Lucifer: …Did something happen at the concert?

Adam: More like what didn’t happen.

Lucifer: Did no one applaud you? Were they booing you? Honey don’t worry your a great singer, you’ll bounce back.

Adam: No, there were no applause nor cheers. Because my audience wasn’t there.

Lucifer: Oh, Adam I’m so sorry.

Adam: You weren’t there Lucifer.

Lucifer: What?

Adam: You were not at my concert Lucifer, You were supposed to be there. Because you were meant to be my audience. Because that concert was going to be dedicated to you! It was supposed to be my wedding anniversary present to you!

Lucifer: But, but, but it’s not my fault if you don’t tell me in advance!

Adam: Lucifer I told you weeks prior about it. And you always said that you’d be there. But of course you lied.

Lucifer: I didn’t lie! Shit came up Adam this isn’t my fault. If anything you should have told me before I left that day! On top of that what did you expect me to do? Not do my duty as king. Tell the goetia to handle it themselves!? Say no to my own daughter, your own daughter, I shouldn’t have helped her at all?! Geez you can be selfish sometimes.

Adam’s eyes widened at that statement. He was shocked to his seat still. Then slowly he nodded his head in understanding. He was an idiot for ever even considering giving Lucifer a second chance. Taking a deep breath, Adam looked directly into Lucifer’s yellow, red eyes and said,

Adam: Lucifer, I want a divorce

[justsigma-bsd]

Everything Seems Small (From High Up)

Basically what happened after Sigma left the note and before Chuuya showed up.

Also me trying my hand at a different writing style-

TW for survivors guilt (I think), implied/mentioned starvation (it's small but there), a lot of injuries being mentioned and their causes.

@fukuzawa-armeddaddyagency may I perhaps interest you in seeing the aftermath of "lost one son to save another"? (ngl it would've probably happened anyway)

He doesn't remember how he managed to get there. The entire way is a blur. He doesn't remember how he managed to climb down, just that he somehow managed to slide down the gutter without falling.

In hindsight, he's more surprised he managed to hold on. His hand and arm ached from the effort of carrying his own weight, which the whole incident had reduced by quite a bit, but he barely cared. He just prayed that neither stab nor bite opened, and went on his way. 

Sure, both are wrapped tightly in bandages, along with pretty much most of his limbs, leaving pretty much all of the bites and stabs and cuts he'd endured hidden from prying eyes, but it'd be a pain to rewrap them all again... and he doesn't want to bother Chuuya with this. 

It's his own fault anyway, he dug his own grave, and now he may as well lie in it. 

His legs ached all the way, but he barely paid it any mind. He just walked and walked and walked, until he barely even knew where he turned left and where he turned right. He just had his destination in mind.

And his legs still ache, an hour later, when he's finally sitting where he'd wanted to go. 

He stares down, and for a moment he remembers falling from Sky Casino. Remembers the terror of thinking he'd die. Remembers the air whipping past his face, howling in his ears as if he'd been caught in a hurricane.

His legs, aching and stinging from bites that hopefully haven't started bleeding again, dangle down over the edge. He fidgets with his hands, plays around with the bandages wrapped around one of them. The bite underneath hurts as well. 

Everything hurts, if he's honest with himself. 

His legs hurt, courtesy of the dogs who'd dug their fangs into his flesh. 

His hand hurts, from when another dog bit it and dragged him back into his room- back to Mori. 

His face and arm and leg hurt from the cuts and stabs Other Kris had left on him. 

His knee hurts, and he can't remember that one clearly, but he thinks a bullet grazed it. 

His back hurts, from when he'd fallen down the stairs.  

His throat hurts, and he wishes desperately for the bruises to fade so he can stop wearing turtlenecks. 

He lets out a sigh and watches the city. From so high up, everything looks so... small. Insignificant. He knows his friends are down there. His family. His love... yet part of him think that maybe, just maybe, they'd be better off if he stayed here. 

He'd left a note. Granted, a very vague note, but he did... god, who was he kidding? Everyone's a mess right now. Everyone's in various stages of grief and dealing with it better or worse. Everyone's mourning, and what is he doing? Running from his problems. 

He lets out a breath, tears gathering in his eyes. 

It's his fault they're mourning. What was it that Fukuzawa had said? Ah, right. He'd sent Dazai to get him out. He'd weighed his options and lost one son to save another. 

He feels like screaming. Like crying. Throwing something, breaking something, tearing something apart and crying over that as well. 

It's his fault, start to finish. 

He'd started all of this with petty revenge that had been entirely pointless, and to what has it led? To Dazai dying. 

Fukuzawa should've made the right call. He should've left him to rot instead of sending help. He wasn't worth another's life. Hell, he isn't even an actual person- just some writing on a page. 

Karma was right. He's useless. He's useless and incompetent and he still doesn't know the reason- but he can see why he'd hate him. He wonders, silently, how many people hate him and are just too polite to say it to his face. 

It should've been him who died. Would've been better for everyone... or no, scratch that. He really just should've stayed in the desert. Less pain and suffering for everyone involved. He should've stayed away after Meursault, at the very least. 

... well, too late to prevent that mistake from happening. 

So he sits, high up above the city, and watches. Watches while everything looks so small and distant insignificant, and he silently wonders why he ever thought he could be a part of that without ruining it. 

[milolovesbmc]

This might be the first ever gruesome playground injuries fanart…

Close ups under the cut!

Flower meanings (from top to bottom)

St John’s wort: Superstition

Astragalus: “Your presence softens my pain”

Sweet brier: A wound to heal

Anemone: Sickness

[cerealmonster15]

[vibrating a little too fast] Do You Understand My Vision Yet