#and in any case it's masked pretty well by a rug

[sol-flo]

now that the house is being painted and i have a better frame of reference i'm inclined to believe the previous colors were like scientifically determined to cause woe and despair

[skyward-floored]

..... does Warriors successfully arrest his family? (Downfall IAU)

fearfully, - hero-of-the-wolf

@hero-of-the-wolf BUCKLE UP MY FRIEND!!!

Comes after the Ravio fic and the Warriors fic :) the first one definitely helps for context.

...

It wasn’t until dawn that anything happened.

Legend and Wind both stayed up all night watching for any threats, keeping a largely silent vigil. They camped out on the roof, watching all corners of the yard and street, and Wind didn’t sleep a wink, anxious and full of a shaky worry for everyone. Sky hadn't responded to any of their messages, which wasn't too unusual since it had only been a few hours, but Wind was worried anyway.

Malon and Four stayed inside and prepared for the worst, readying supplies in case a quick escape was needed, and still occasionally trying to contact Sky. Ravio pretty much just slept, mumbling hazily about low prices and pretty birds.

But when the first rays of sunshine poked over the horizon and Wind and Legend had still seen nothing suspicious, everyone relaxed a little. Malon brought out some food for them to eat, and the two of them took it gratefully.

Wind was still worried, but things seemed less scary with the glimmer of dawn on the horizon, orangey light warming his face. Legend looked a little more relaxed as well, and they began to eat, both feeling lighter.

Wind took exactly three bites of his bagel before he froze, staring out across the street.

A man stood in plain view from his and Legend’s standpoint, one who hadn’t been there before. The sun shone off his white and blue outfit like sunlight on a frozen lake, and a mask covered part of his face, but Wind knew immediately who he was and why he was here.

He just didn’t want to believe it.

“Legend,” he whispered, and Legend immediately turned and looked, the color draining from his face.

“Wind, go warn them,” he whispered, but Wind remained frozen in place, staring at Warriors. “Wind.”

Wind couldn’t make himself move, gaze locked on Warriors. His uncle didn’t move either, silently watching him and Legend, and even though the distance was pretty far, Wind almost thought he could make out regret on his face.

Legend’s elbow to his side snapped him out of his daze, and Wind scrambled down the roof and inside a window, almost wiping out on a rug as he ran.

“Malon they’re coming!” he cried, and he heard a sharp intake of breath.

Malon appeared around the corner as a harsh knock came from their front door, and Wind gave her a panicked look. The knocks quickly turned into pounding, and Wind heard a thud on the roof, along with a shout.

“Go wake Ravio,” Malon said, and Wind ran off into the living room. He was worried about Legend, but he knew he could handle himself. Hopefully.

The pounding on the door seemed to have already woken Ravio up, and his green eyes were looking fearfully at the door as Wind ran in.

“They found me,” he said in a panic, and Wind nodded.

“Yeah. You and us. But they'll have to fight to catch us, c’mon.”

“I can’t run very well like this,” Ravio said nervously, and Wind pulled his arm up around his shoulders, helping him stand.

“No problem, we’ll help you,” he replied, and winced as another shout came from outside. “Where’s Four?”

“He said he needed to do something,” Ravio said as they hurried out of the living room.

“He what?”

“I don’t know, he didn’t explain!”

Both of them yelped as something shook the building, and Malon suddenly went flying back from the front door, hitting the wall beside them with a grunt.

Wind shouted in alarm, but Malon was unhurt, quickly standing up with her fists raised. Wind looked at where she’d come from, and saw the door broken with a group of people gathered in the doorway, all dressed in dark colors and protective gear. He didn’t see Warriors anywhere.

“Malon Forester, you and all the occupants of this house are under arrest,” the one at the front said, and Malon’s face creased determinedly.

“I don’t think so. Get Ravio out of here,” Malon directed towards Wind, but before he could move, he heard a wild yell.

Four suddenly burst from the hallway, dressed in his super suit that he’d been wearing when he and Wind first landed here. It was bright blue though, and Wind wasn’t surprised when three other Fours ran out behind the blue one, all looking determined.

Blue threw himself at the group in the doorway, and the others followed, all yelling as they lit up their powers. Chaos reigned as the colors swept through the squad, and Malon pushed Wind to get going.

“I’ll help Four, go,” she urged, and Wind and Ravio hurried off towards the back door, trying not to listen to the yelling from behind them.

They made it to the door quickly, but Wind could see even more of the scary soldier-people rushing towards the house, and he quickly locked the door and shoved a couple heavy chairs in front of it for good measure. They... weren't making it out that way.

“Now what?” Ravio asked a little hysterically, and Wind suddenly remembered Malon mentioning something about an emergency hatch in the basement room he and Four had been sleeping in. She’d only brought it up briefly, and he’d forgotten about it in the rush.

“Downstairs, c’mon,” he urged, gathering some winds around them just in case. They were on the opposite side of the house from the basement stairs, but the shouting had died down a little, so he was hopeful.

They hurried back the way they came, Wind eternally grateful that the house had tough windows and good locks. It didn’t seem like any of the scary-looking soldiers had gotten in yet, except for the ones at the front door, but it sounded like Malon and Four were handling them.

Wind and Ravio rushed past the front door, and saw Malon and all four colors braced against it, Malon having replaced the door and now struggling to secure a lock on it. Wind set Ravio down for a moment, and shoved a heavy-looking table over to help block the door. Malon realized what he was doing, and briefly abandoned Four in order to help him shove the table, as well as several other heavy pieces of furniture.

“Will that hold them?” Green asked in an out of breath voice.

“Hopefully long enough for us to get away,” Malon replied as they finished, rubbing her shoulder a bit. Wind squinted at her, but he couldn’t tell if she was truly hurt or not.

“How are we getting out?” Red said in a somewhat panicked voice as the men on the other side of the door began to bang at it again.

“Basement,” Malon replied, then shooed them along. “Hurry.”

The Colors finally moved away from the door, and though the banging began to increase, the door didn’t budge, locked and barricaded as it was.

They rushed down the hallway, Wind almost dropping Ravio when he heard a window shatter somewhere. He cast a glance at Malon, and saw that her face was surprisingly calm.

Though maybe that wasn't too surprising. It seemed to Wind that she'd been expecting something like this to happen for ages.

“I gotta grab my bag,” Vio said suddenly, stopping in his tracks. The other colors stopped as well, and Wind looked back at the different colors of his brother. “All our bags, we left them in the kitchen, there's important stuff in there.”

“Go fast,” Wind said worriedly, and the Colors nodded and bolted away.

Wind heard another window shatter somewhere, and drew some wind tighter around himself, wiping his sweaty palms on his shirt. He really wished he'd at least had a nap last night. The lack of sleep only made his nerves feel even more shot.

“Where’s Legend?” Ravio huffed as they continued to work their way across the house. He was looking paler again, probably from the strain on his leg as well as the situation at hand. Wind couldn’t blame him.

“He was on the roof, I don’t know whe—”

“Right here.”

Legend flickered into view beside them, and Wind was glad he was used to it and didn’t shriek like Ravio did.

His alternate-brother looked a little ruffled, but unhurt as far as Wind could tell. Legend opened his mouth to say more, but Malon abruptly grabbed him away from the stairwell, some kind of energy blast hitting the wall where his head had been.

More of the armored men were coming from upstairs, and Wind blasted a gust at their feet, making them all trip and fall into a pile. Their group rapidly turned the corner towards the basement, and Wind started to believe they’d maybe make it out.

Then he saw Warriors standing in the hallway, blocking their path.

Wind stopped short, and Malon and Legend bumped into him, all three of them staring at the super in front of them.

“Warriors,” Malon began, firm, but soft regardless. “Let us through.”

Warriors looked at them, but his expression stayed the same, smooth and emotionless. “I can’t do that. All of you are under arrest. If you come quietly, this’ll be easier for all of us.”

“Easier for all of us? Or just for you?” Legend snapped, and Wind thought he saw hurt flash in his uncle’s eyes.

“Legend, Malon, I don’t want to do this,” he said in a quieter voice. “Please. Come quietly.”

“You know we can’t do that,” Malon said firmly.

“Dad wouldn’t want us to,” Legend spat.

Warriors flinched, but didn’t say anything in reply. He simply lifted his hands, frost forming threateningly on his gloves.

Nobody moved for several tense seconds. Legend glared silently at his uncle, Ravio looked nervously towards the door, Malon kept a steady eye on her husband’s brother, all while Wind watched and wondered what to do.

Warriors couldn’t be serious... could he?

Wind had only spoken to this version of Warriors once, but... he loved his family. Wind could tell that beyond a shadow of a doubt.

Why was he doing this?

Why was he working for the bad guys?

Footsteps came up behind Wind, and he turned to see Four run up, looking winded and shaky. He’d reformed into one for some reason, holding several bags in his arms, and Wind caught his shoulder. Four stumbled to a halt as he looked around at the situation, and frowned.

And then Warriors locked eyes with Four, and his face went white.

That moment of distraction was what they’d been waiting for, and Malon threw herself at her brother-in-law, successfully knocking him to the ground.

“Go boys!” she shouted, and they scrambled to obey, Legend and Wind grabbing Ravio, while Four ran behind. Legend ran ahead of them and flung open the door to the basement, hurriedly gesturing them inside.

Wind couldn’t help watch Malon grapple with Warriors, her eyes alight with protectiveness. He winced as she punched him, the two rolling around as they fought, and Wind gasped when Warriors’s hands glowed with ice and he tried to freeze her arms.

The soldiers Wind had tripped came around the corner as well, and began shooting more of the energy beams that Legend had narrowly avoided. Wind was a little surprised they didn't have bullets, but he supposed he shouldn't complain. At least being shocked wasn't as instantly life-threatening.

Four suddenly stumbled against Wind, having trouble with the ice rapidly coating the area. Wind grabbed his arm and ended up supporting him almost more than Ravio, Four still shaky from being split and struggling to hold onto the bags all while avoiding any blasts.

“Guys come on, we— Mom?” Legend said, his commanding tone suddenly slipping. Wind turned back to look again, and saw Malon with one arm pinned to the ground with ice.

Warriors was panting, blood dripping from his nose, and despite Malon getting her lasso around one of his legs, she hadn’t been able to pull it tight. Warriors stood and turned towards the basement door, his hands glowing again, and Wind hated the closed-off look on his face.

He raised his hands, but then Malon shouted, wrenching her arm free of the ice and yanking the lasso around Warriors’s leg.

He lost his balance with a cry, and Malon kicked him backwards, sending him sliding down the hall a bit.

“Boys, go now,” she said, making no move to join them as she tried to get the rope around Warriors’s other leg. He shot some ice at her again, and it froze some of her hair as she dodged.

“But Mom—!”

“I said go! That’s an order!” she shouted, cutting Legend off.

“We’re not leaving you here!” Wind said, wanting to rush to her side, but still supporting both Four and Ravio. He couldn’t even use his powers to help, the hallway too narrow and Malon and Warriors moving too fast for him to do anything.

Malon gave Wind and Four a complicated look, then threw open a closet door that opened into the hallway, blocking a shot from Warriors. The ice froze it in place, and Wind could hear Warriors trying to break through as energy shots rattled it, but Malon didn’t press the sudden advantage. Rather she used the brief break to look back at the four of them.

Her expression softened, and she locked eyes with Legend, his face pale and frantic.

“I’ll keep him busy, you four go ahead. The hatch downstairs opens with the triforce tap combination, you know it Legend.”

Legend’s expression looked like pure agony. “Mama I can’t—”

A loud crack came from the closet door, and Malon swept forward and grabbed all of them into a hug, even Ravio, and she quickly kissed Legend’s hair.

“It’ll be okay, honey. Go!”

She gave them all a pointed shove through the doorway as Warriors broke through the ice, and Legend shouted a warning. Wind caught a brief glimpse of Warriors standing behind her, his hands raised with grief on his face, and Malon slammed the door shut behind them.

Then the tell-tale sound of Warriors shooting his ice rang out, sealing the door shut.

“No!” Legend screamed, slamming his shoulder into the door.

Wind stared at it in horror, but he could already tell the ice was too thick for them to break through. The door was totally sealed off, thick ice sealing all around the edges, and even the sound from the other side was muffled.

Nobody would be getting through that door for hours.

“Legend we have to go,” Wind said in a shaking voice, hating that he had to be the one to say it, and Legend banged a fist against the door, breathing heavily.

“Mom!” he yelled, but there was no reply, only muffled shouts.

Four gave Wind a frightened look, Ravio’s expression pure shock, and Wind took in a deep breath as Legend slammed his fist against the door again.

“Legend,” Wind repeated quietly, and Legend gripped the door handle so hard his knuckles turned white.

Wind managed to brush a slight breeze over Legend’s head, meant to be comforting, and Legend stilled, only his shaking shoulders belaying his emotions.

“I can’t lose her too,” Legend finally whispered in a terrified voice.

“You’re not losing her. This isn’t over,” Wind said, choking back the knot in his throat. He had to focus, he could cry later. “We’ll get her back Legend, I swear, but we can’t let what she did be in vain. We have to go.”

Legend pressed his forehead to the door, and didn’t move.

Then he harshly breathed out, and leaned back, a murderous expression on his face.

“We’re going for Sky’s place. It'll be safe there. And then we’re getting her back,” he said in a harsh whisper.

Wind and Four both nodded determinedly, and Ravio gave Legend a light nudge, looking like he didn’t know what else to do. It was telling that Ravio had stayed quiet almost this whole time— Wind knew his version of him could be a bit of a chatterbox sometimes— but now it was like he just didn’t know what to say.

It could’ve been the pain he was in, but Wind had a feeling it was more due to shock.

“Come on,” Legend muttered, nudging Wind forward, and they all hurried down the stairs, nobody speaking as Legend opened the secret hatch, then closed and locked it behind them.

Nobody spoke as they crawled through the tunnel, Legend leading the way and helping Ravio with his leg. Wind glimpsed tears on Legend's face from the light of the flashlight, but he didn't say anything about them, knowing it wasn't the time. They needed to get away from here first.

Four finally distributed the packs so he didn't have to carry them all, though Wind took two because Malon...

Wind swallowed, and shook his dark thoughts away. They'd just wanted to arrest them, not kill them. Malon would be captured, but he had to hope she would be fine. Especially with Warriors there, he wouldn't let them do anything bad to her...

...Right?

An image of Warriors shooting ice at them with an emotionless look in his eyes shot through Wind's brain, and he held back a shudder, Four brushing his side.

Malon had to be okay.

She would be okay.

Wind swallowed again, and focused all of his energy on crawling through the dusty tunnel, not thinking about Warriors, not thinking about Malon, and trying his best not to listen to the quiet sound of Legend's tears.

(...)

Malon was silent as she was surrounded and handcuffed, though she still struggled and kicked like the horses she spent so much of her time with. Finally she was restrained though, and the man who was technically Warriors's superior grinned as he proudly announced she was under arrest for treason, participating in illegal ventures, aiding and abetting known criminals... the list went on.

Warriors held her silently while the man prattled on, and glanced at the basement door, still frozen solid. He tried not to let the hope show on his face, but he was overwhelmingly relieved inside.

He'd given Legend and the others some time. His nephew may hate him now, but it was worth it.

Malon stumbled suddenly on some of the ice, and Warriors automatically caught her, her head ending up rather close to his.

"Thank you," she whispered, so soft Warriors thought he'd imagined it. She gave him the smallest of nods when he looked at her though, and Warriors returned it, his throat tight.

She knew he'd helped Legend get away.

The man finally finished his list of alleged crimes, and Warriors prodded Malon to her feet as gently as he could manage while still putting on a show. She didn't resist, and they marched out of the house, Malon with her head high and undefeated.

I'm sorry Time.

[techtakesoff]

Have you been requested Page of Hope yet? Love Jake, and I also classpected my favorite blorbo as Page of Hope, but would like to see your analysis on the classpect, too! (The blorbo is Luffy just in case you were curious. I am mashing my special interest with my hyperfixation over here)

I also love Jake English.

The Page of Hope

Wowza, such a wonder that Mod Dirk likes Jake English, like that's a real shocker to me, Junior.

Page - one who serves their aspect, or serves through aspect for themselves.

Hope - control over positive emotion, and hope itself.

The Page of Hope is one who serves Hope, or serves through Hope for themselves.

The opposite of a Page of Hope is a Rogue of Rage.

To start off, I will say that Pages of Hope are often lost in their own minds of grandeur, and while that might not always be rugged Aussie boy adventuring, it's an example of how they utilise escapism from a dire situation that might be putting them under a lot of stress.

Pages often think that they have a lack of their aspect, and ones of Hope are no different. They might put up a cheery facade, but that is a coverup because a vast majority of the time, they feel utterly hopeless about their situation and seek any sort of escape from it, even if that constitutes ignoring their issues.

To anyone who knows how to read them well, or even just people who like this sort of thing, they can tell right away that the Page of Hope's whole mask of a facade is utter bullshit, but actually separating the Page from this bubble of theirs is difficult.

And because of this, it will hurt more to rip someone out of their safe space than it will to work with them on it, but I wouldn't pitch it out of the ballpark to go to say that the Page likely has had an experience just like that. It's only natural.

Pages of Hope aren't all delusions of better times and whatnot, they are pretty smart, smarter than most people think. Part of wearing a mask is while you might have parts that are rough from wear, some of it really does seem like your face.

And Pages of Hope are like this. While some parts of their everything might be obvious bullshit, other parts are not. Hope players are uniquely in tune with those around them, and are determined to make the most of every situation.

With Pages of Hope, they have downright fierce determination, and with this they can achieve absolutely anything if they really want to, freaky Hope powers aside. They genuinely possess this motivation, and a lot of people look past it because all they see is an idolised version of them.

So while the Page of Hope should definitely work on seeing their own situation for what it is and begin to face it head on, they are compassionate people who do not deserve to be harmed about whatever problems they certainly collected throughout their life.

[prittyvenus]

The medium and the nameless ghouls

Case File 006-7 Sunshine file Becoming Part of the Clergy

Sara whines up in hot water from her superiors after ratting out her former boss about his mishandling of her cases. The Director gets her a job in the clergy after she gets laid off from the district. Without the help of William and Detective John Stevens at her side, how would she handle her new assignments on her own?

Sara and William woke up early in the morning to pack his things. "You got everything?" William nods and yawns. "I know. Your school is a one-hour drive. I will make a quick breakfast when my dad gets up."

"Okay..." William yawns.

As they head to the main hall, they see Alexander fixing his tie in the mirror. "Dad, you're up."

He spots Sara and William. "Uh, yeah. I have to help the officers find Bishop Johnathan. They couldn't find him last night."

"He probably still disguising himself as a masked ghoul," Sara explains. "You need to leave the eye patch off. It might help."

Alexander looks at Sara. "Let me guess, our family name has an influence here." he finishes fixing his tie.

'Well, pretty much." Cowbell sits up from the couch. "Where's Phil?"

They all look at each other. Sara shakes her head. "I don't know. He wasn't with me." Cowbell ears lower.

Sara grabs the keys to the cop car. "Going somewhere?" Alexander asked.

"I have to take him to school. It's an hour's drive from the clergy."

"I'll take him." Alexander grabs his keys. They head to the clergy parking lot. William and Alexander go inside his car.

Sara goes to William. "Listen, there will be a chance that cops will be looking for me. If that happens, call my dad." She calls out Alexander. "Dad, can you give him your phone number?"

"Sure." Alexander and William take out their phones. "This is my personal number and my work number." William copies his phone numbers. "In fact," he points to his work number. "call this number and put it on speaker."

"Why?" William asked.

"It's the number for my work cell. I will pick it up immediately and tell those officers off. They can't intervene in an attorney's case without a warrant." Alexander smiles.

"I get it." Alexander rubs Williams's head and starts the car.

"Be careful, you two." Sara steps back.

"We will." William waves goodbye as they drive off. Alexander puts on some music as they reach the gate. "Do you think she will be okay?"

"She'll be fine. I hope that the ninth district doesn't come after our family." Alexander waves at the ghouls. They open the gates. "Did you eat something?" he asked as he drove off.

"No," William answered. "She was going to cook something quick before you got up."

"I see. I'll take you to a fast-food joint." He drives to a drive-thru and orders breakfast sandwiches for them to eat. They soon get to the school. Alexander managed to find a parking space. "Now remember, if any of the officers come up to you about Sara. Call me, and put the call on speaker. I want to hear what they are saying."

William got out of the car. "Got it. I'll let you know right away." They both waved goodbyes. William met with his friends and headed to the school. Alexander started the car and drove back to the clergy.

Sara went to Terzo's bedroom. She sees Terzo and Phil sleeping in the bed. Omega was in his underwear, looking for his pants. "Oh, I'm sorry." Sara closes the door. "Cowbell is looking for Phill. He's waiting downstairs."

Omega goes next to the bed and wakes up Phil. "Cowbell is looking for you. You have to get up."

Phil gets up. "Fine. I'm up." He yawns. He crawls out of bed. Phil sharpens his claws on Terzo's carpet.

"Dude, not on the rug!" Terzo wakes up from Omega's yelling. "Terzo is going to be pissed if he catches you." Phil smiles and continues scratching the carpet.

Terzo grabs Omega's book from the nightstand and throws it at Phil. The book hits Phil's behind. Phil ran off the carpet. The tired Terzo gives the hand gesture to Phil and then slams his head back on the pillow.

"Is everything alright?" Sara asked behind the door.

"Everything's fine!" Omega yelled.

"Phil, hurry up. We have to meet with Sierra and start preparing her welcoming ceremony." Cowbell yelled.

"Who the fuck is Sierra?" Omega Asked.

"It's Sara's new name. Sara is joining the clergy as Sierra Emeritus." Phil grabs his clothes and puts them on.

Omega finds his pants and puts them on. "Oh, yeah. That's right. She's part of the bloodline." Omega finds a clean shirt and puts it on. "I'll take her to the Sisters Quarters first. She has to be in uniform before the tour around the clergy."

Phil opens the door and sees Cowbell with Sara. "She's joining the clergy?" Cowbell asked Phil.

"Yeah," Phil nods. "she's joining the clergy under witness protection. The name Sierra Emeritus is her clergy name."

"Welcome home, Sister Sierra." Cowbell bows to Sara. He grabs her hand and kisses it. "I am at your service if anything." He leaves the hall.

Omega goes to Sara. "You're ready to go?" Sara nods and takes Omega's hand.

They teleport to the laundry room. One of the sisters flips out. "What the hell?" Another sister started yelling. "You should not be here. Get out!"

An older sister enters the laundry room. She smiles as she sees Omega. "Omega." She goes over and hugs Omega. "Welcome back. How have you been?"

Omega hugs her back. "Hey, Prime Mover Maria." Maria makes baby noises as she squeezes Omega's cheeks. "Sa, I mean Sierra. This is Sister Maria. Prime Mover to your uncle, Secondo."

"I remember you." Maria points to Sara. "You were the one who said. You finally got your wish, grandma. When the phantoms appeared."

"Yeah, those phantoms are my grandparents. Papa Primo and Prime Mover Elizabeth." Sara explains.

"She's here to take over for Sister Lucia," Omega whispered to Maria. "Do you think you can settle Sierra in?"

She put up her hand. "Say no more. We will do anything for the bloodline."

"I guess..." Sara and Omega follow Maria out of the laundry room to the fitting room.

A group of tailor ghouls looks at Maria. "Ghouls, we got a new girl. Her Name is Sierra Emeritus. Primo's granddaughter."

The tailor ghouls wag their tails. One of the ghouls drew a pentagram on his chest with his finger. They face an old picture of Primo in his red Papel entire. They start their prayers. After their prayers, they faced Sara. They grab the measuring tape and take Sara's measurements. A ghoul takes notes and hands them to another ghoul. They picked out the fabric and gave the fabric to a seamstress. The seamstress makes the patterns on the fabric. She sowed the patterns together and made a nun dress in Sara's size. The ghouls take Sara and the dress to the back.

"Hold on, hold on," Yelled Maria. "Let us do it." Maria and the seamstress take Sara to a back room and let her try the dress.

Sara comes out of the back room with the dress on. She twirls around in the dress. The ghouls get teary-eyed. Sara goes to a long mirror and checks it out. Sara notices a long gap on the sides of the dress.

"Oh, don't worry about that." Said the seamstress. "You'll get an underskirt with the dress."

Sara takes another look at the dress. "Um... Do you think you can make another one? But with pants underneath." The seamstress and the ghouls look confused. "To keep the perverts from looking under."

The ghoul lowered their ears. "Gregory..." They said.

The seamstress got embarrassed. "Good thing you were informed in advance. I tell you what, I'll make you another one. It's going to be a jumper instead of a dress."

"Thank you, ma'am," Sara told the seamstress. "I appreciate it."

Maria asked Sara. "If you and your cop friends can take care of Gregory for us. That ghoul has been a handful. Especially us women."

"How do I find him?" Sara asked.

The seamstress explains to Sara. "Oh no, he'll find you. Gregory will scream before he goes between your legs and snaps a photo with his camera."

"Got it. I may want you guys to make a report to the higher-ups." They gasp at Sara. "I mean an equivalent to Human Resources or the council. People in charge of the clergy."

"Oh..." The ghouls said under their breath.

"I get what you are saying," Maria told Sara. "The clergy has some outdated Policies. Even Sister Imperator doesn't want to update those policies."

"That's not good." Said Sara. "There has to be some changes."

Maria told Sara. "I agree with you." She helps Sara out of the dress and gives it to the seamstress. "Let us take you to the jewelers next. You get to pick your color gems to go with your Grucifix."

"Oh no," Sara holds her chest. "I left it on Grandma's vanity."

"I'll get it." Omega teleports to the mansion.

"He'll meet us at the Jewelers." Maria takes Sara's hand. "Come on, after the jewelers. We got to go pick up your makeup kits."

"I get to wear makeup?" Sara surprisingly said. "Like makeup that can kill a man twice?"

"Well, if you want to go that far? That's fine by me." Sara claps her hands in excitement.

Sara and Maria meet with the jeweler. "Where's your Grucifix?" The jeweler ghoul asked.

Omega shows up behind the girls. "Got it. It was on top of your grandfather's vanity. Not your grandmother's." He hands the Grucifix to the Jeweler ghoul.

"Hm... Have you been with a ghoul when this was given to you?" The jeweler asked.

"Yeah, Omega was sitting on my left to me, and Phil was standing on my right of me." Said Sara.

The jeweler ghoul uses an eye-sized magnetifying glass. "I see... You have an attraction to spirit energy from others." He takes a closer look at the Grucifix.

"Yes, my grandparents are Primo and Elizabeth," Sara told the jeweler ghoul. "I even have her philosopher's stone." The jeweler ghoul drops the Grucifix. "Omega, do you have it?"

"Yes, I do." Omega goes into his pocket and pulls out Sara's stone necklace. Omega gives it to the jeweler ghoul.

The jeweler ghoul goes to the back and returns with a bowl, a small container of ink, and some tissues. "I remember when Papa Primo came to me with this stone." He puts the necklace in the bowl. "He told me to put a little surprise on the gold rim." He looks at Sara. "Do you know what it is?"

Sara replied. "The secret message. My grandmother told me about it. She said she doesn't remember where it was. Because it was so long ago. But it made my grandmother marry my grandfather."

The Jeweler ghoul pours the ink on a worn gold part of the necklace. He dabs the tissues to remove the access ink. The names Elizabeth B. Emeritus and Francisco Emeritus appeared on a gold band.

Sara placed her hands on her mouth and cried. "Those are my grandparents." Sara wiped her tears. "Omega, take a picture. I have to show this to my dad." Omega looks at her. "He has to know." Omega shrugs and pulls out his phone. The jeweler ghoul holds up the stone. "Make sure you get a close-up of the names." Omega zooms in on his phone and snaps a picture.

Omega shows the photo to Sara. "Is this what you're looking for?"

Sara takes Omega's phone. She gets teary-eyed. "Yeah," she sniffles. "My dad is going to be happy with this." She gives Omega his phone back.

The Jeweler ghoul gives Sara a clear Grucifix. "Omega, keep your distance from her," he warned Omega. "We don't want any interference." Sara held the Grucifix, and everyone stood back. The Grucifix changes from clear to blood red with a hint of purple. "I knew it! She's a chimera! She's her own twin." Sara stood in shock. Looking at the Grucifix changing its colors again. The blood red is changing to a dark magenta. "Don't worry about it, my dear." The Jeweler told Sara. "It doesn't matter if you are born of both bodies. You are still you. No matter what."

Sara gives the Grucifix back to the jeweler ghoul. "Thank you. I appreciate it." Her left eye turns white, then back to brown.

"Good luck, and welcome home." The jeweler ghoul's tail wags rapidly. "Don't worry about the stone. I'll have it fully restored."

"Keep the names on. I want to show it to my dad." The Jeweler ghoul nods and goes back to work.

Maria takes Sara to the Sibling dormitory. "Siblings, this is Sierra Emeritus." All of the Siblings look at her. "She's Primo and Elizabeth's granddaughter."

"Are you that cop from the mansion?" One of the siblings pointed out. "Um... Sara, I believe."

"Shit!" Sara said under her breath. Maria looks at Sara. "Look like the cat's out of the bag." Sara took a big breath in and out. "I'm under witness protection. I ratted out the superiors in the ninth district to the Department of Investigations. My dad is a district attorney from the Department of Justice."

"That's bullshit." one of the siblings said.

"I don't think it's bullshit." said a female sibling. "I heard on the news that a solo officer gathered evidence against the corrupt officers in the ninth police district."

"Thanks for the credit," Sara muttered under her breath. "Detective."

"That was you!" Maria points.

"Just to let you know. It's true, the blood relation l has with Primo and Elizabeth." Sara activates her white eye. "The director helped me get a job here. He changed my name to Sierra Emeritus. I'm not going to lie. I miss my maiden name."

"Sara Emeritus is your real name," Maria said. "Are there any more people with the bloodline?"

"I have a sister and a brother. They chose to live by their adopted name, Dickson." The sibling laughs. "Yeah, I know it's stupid. They're both married with children of their own. I'm the only one that got divorced."

The siblings looked at Sara. "Who divorced you?" The ghouls showed up.

"I divorced him." The siblings gasped. "A lawyer called me the day before the wedding. He informed me that Juan Santos, my ex-husband, was having an affair with a 14-year-old girl and got her sick." The siblings and the ghouls gathered closer to Sara. "I arrested his ass on our wedding day."

"Wait, you didn't go through with it?" Sara shakes her head at Maria.

"No, he was being sued. I can't help him. He fucked around with a child and found out that he was going to prison. That man is no good. I should have listened to my dad about him from the beginning."

Maria placed her hand on Sara's shoulder. "You made the right call. What happened on your wedding day wasn't your fault. You did what you had to do. He cheated on the wrong person. Your ex had it coming. Don't blame yourself for something you don't have control over."

Sara smiles. "Thank you for the advice."

Maria smiles back. "Let's go to your room, Sara. It's on the upper floor."

Sara follows Maria. "It's Sierra, Sister Maria. I'm under witness protection. Remember?"

Sara and Maria take the stairs to the second floor and take the hall on the left. Maria shows Sara the door with the number 215. "This is your dorm room." She opens the door and smells cigar smoke filling the hallway. "Who's been smoking in here?" She goes inside and opens the window. "I'm going to have a word with the Siblings." She goes to the hallway. "I'll be right back. Make yourself at home." She closes the door.

"Welcome, glad to see a new face." Sara looks around the room and sees another soul fragment of Terzo lying on the couch in his underwear. He picks up his cigar and smokes it.

Sara takes the cigar and puts it out. "If Omega was here, he would have been disappointed."

Phil knocks on the door. "Sierra, it's Phil. I got your things."

"It's open." The door opens. Phil and Omega enter the room with Sara's things. She holds up a cigar and points to the couch. "Omega, tell your boyfriend. There's no smoking in the dorms."

Omega looks at the couch and sees the soul fragment. "Phil, here's another one."

Phil takes a look and sees Terzo in his underwear. Phil holds his nose and shakes his head. The four spirit fragments leave Phil's body. "Ci scusi."

The four grabbed him from the couch and took him to the bathroom. They were punching and swearing at the fragment in the bathroom. They came out and dragged him to Sara. "Chiedi scusa a tua nipote!"

"I'm..." The phantoms of Secondo and Primo stood behind Sara with Disappointed looks on their faces. He got on his hands and knees. "I'm so sorry! It won't happen again!" Secondo smirks as he and Primo fade away.

Phil looks at Sara. "I'll take the soul fragment back to the mansion. Here are your things from Master Primo's bedroom and office."

Sara takes a look at her luggage. "Did Detective Stevens take my electronics?"

"All but the laptop." Answered Phil.

Sara checks her bags and finds the laptop. "This isn't my laptop." She opens it and finds a sticky note reading. "Sorry, I want to keep tabs on you. This is a clean laptop. I kept your old laptop for evidence. The suit against the ninth district is going to be ugly. Johnny."

Omega got curious. "Who the fuck is Johnny?"

Sara closes the laptop. "John Stevens. The detective I was with."

"Oh..." Omega lifts the soul fragment from the floor.

"No, allow us. Amore mio." One of the fragments told Omega. They took the fragment Omega had and fused themself together as a purple ball of energy. Phil pulled the energy ball into his body. His body glowed purple. Sara's left eye shows visions of a pentagram flashing between another fragment of Terzo sleeping in darkness and a ghoul in costume looking down at a balcony in the artifact archives.

Sara grips the left side of her face. She tried to hold herself steady as she felt light-headed. She opens her eyes and sees herself on the grass of the clergy cemetery.

She gets up and finds a small mausoleum. She felt herself going inside it. She sees a crystal orb and a woman standing in front of it. The woman was wearing a black veil that covered her face and body.

"Daughter of the first one." The woman moved up, showing her elderly hand. "Come to me..." She pulls off the veil and shows her blank white eyes. "I need you!"

Sara wakes to a blinding white light flashing in her eyes. "She's snapping out of it!" Sara's sight returns to normal. She sees Sergeant Jackson and Dewdrop looking down on her with a flashlight.

case file close case file contents

[musicaldaydreams]

Gonna be a little bit of venting/covid talk under the cut. ^^; I just need to get this out into the world. And maybe there's an off chance someone sees this who knows more than me. (TLDR if anyone knows of updated information on Covid that is neither "sweeping it under the rug" nor "everyone is doomed forever" please throw it at me.)

There's not any easily-accessible information that's kept up to date anymore and it's kind of killing me. I hear some doctors (mine) say "It's still not something you want to catch, but symptoms are generally milder and the risk of serious complications is low. It's acting very much like a flu these days" and I hear other doctors saying "If you catch it even once, even mildly, your body is severely messed up, and we don't know yet whether it's for life or not. It's a plague and anyone who catches it is a ticking time bomb for serious complications afterwards." And I don't know what to believe, how scared I need to be, so I just default to "terrified, all the time". (Existing health OCD meshes so well with it. >.<) Especially since I had it back in October (a mild case, I think) I'm just constantly on ultra-high-alert. If my sinuses are a bit irritated, or my face feels warm, or i get a slight headache, I'll have a huge anxiety attack. If a muscle hurts a bit I worry it's a blood clot and have a huge anxiety attack. I cross stores to avoid passing someone in an aisle, and if I can't, I hold my breath and get very anxious.If someone coughs in earshot of me, every muscle in my body tenses up and I feel sick. I always wear an N95 mask and socially distance in public, but the lack of information means I'm just constantly 2 seconds away from breaking down in severe panic at any moment. I don't know how likely I am to catch it again before I can get my next vaccine (3 months from now, apparently. It's terrifying.) I don't know how much danger different groups are in. My risk evaluation skills are completely broken and I'm pretty sure I'm more terrified/paranoid now than i was even at the beginning of the pandemic. At least then I knew what was going on.

[blackrosesandwhump]

Whump Prompts Collection

Tag me if any of these inspire you! I'd love to read the result. :)

Asphyxia/suffocation:

Whumpee joins an exploration mission that’s being sent into a place where the air is toxic, so he has to wear some kind of breathing gear; the environment and discomfort cause him to lose his mind and rip the gear off, exposing him to the toxic air and damaging the equipment. The others on the mission have to make an awful decision on who to save.

Denied air, then forced to exercise: muzzle your whumpee or otherwise reduce their breathing ability, then force them to exert themselves. For example, whumper could tape whumpee’s mouth shut, then make them run laps until they pass out. Or force them to wear something that reduces their oxygen intake, then do rigorous chores. Imagine a whumpee on their knees, scrubbing the floor as they struggle to breathe, then passing out on the damp floor amid the cleaning supplies. Such a pretty sight for the whumper to behold…

An airless chamber: whumper has a specialized room that’s been sealed to be airtight, perfect for particularly stubborn whumpees, or even just whumpees that are fun to torture. A couple of minutes in that room, and they emerge weak, gasping, willing to submit just so they don’t have to suffer the horror of suffocation again. And then there’s that one whumpee, the one that won’t break no matter how many times they’re shut in that room. Because it’s not what happens to them that will destroy them, but what happens to the people they love…

Claustrophobia:

Whumpee is tossed into a coffin with their crossed arms bound to their chest and their ankles fastened together, then left there for hours in silence. Claustrophobia sets in and whumpee panics and cries out.

Whumpee is confined to a tiny closet and forgotten while whumper is attacked. Whumpee is discovered by the attackers much much later, completely traumatized.

A is injured and needs to have a brain scan. They start to panic at the idea of being enclosed in such a tight space. The only person who can help calm them down is B, and B is not allowed in the room for whatever reason. Then A sees B through the glass and B’s smile and thumbs-up is enough to help them feel better.

Whumpee is forced to wear an iron mask as punishment. The mask can only be unlocked and removed by someone else, so they’re stuck for an entire day (or however long) unable to speak around the bit in their mouth and also short of breath.

Whumper knows about whumpee’s dislike of anything touching his face and forces whumpee to wear a mask that completely hides his face whenever he’s in whumper’s presence. Eventually the mask becomes part of whumpee’s identity.

Curses/magic:

Hero is given the gift of a scarf. What he doesn’t know is that it’s actually a gift from the Villain. He also doesn’t know it’s been cursed and will strangle him when the time comes. It won’t kill him, though—it will keep him just alive enough for Villain to interrogate him.

Hero is chained up in a dungeon. His chains are cursed so that every struggle causes more chains to coil around him. Villain enters the dungeon to find him completely wrapped in chains: around his neck, across his mouth, restricting his chest. Villain is amused and decides to leave Hero like that for a while longer.

Hero’s weapon is cursed so that every use weakens him for a period of time. The more he uses it, the more it weakens him each time and the harder it is for him to recover. Eventually his body begins to fail from how much he’s wielded it, but he won’t rest because he’s too fixated on using his weapon to its fullest potential.

Miscellaneous:

Whumper knows that whumpee is deathly afraid of buzzing insects, so he slathers whumpee in something sticky and sweet and ties him up so he can’t wipe it off. Then he leaves whumpee outside to be tormented by insects until he’s hoarse from screaming.

Whumper ties whumpee up, but not too painfully and not to torture them; no, this time whumper is going to draw all over whumpee’s skin, to let them know who they belong to now. They’ll be whumper’s canvas, whether they like it or not.

Whumper is given a drug that induces hallucinations and is bound to a chair and left in an empty room for hours…whumper returns to find whumpee bloodied from straining to escape and delirious with fear.

Whumper knows that the rescuers are on their way, so he slices whumpee up just enough to cause him lots of pain, then rolls him up in a rug and dumps him in a corner where the rescuers won’t think to look. Whumpee’s only hope is to make enough noise that they investigate.

Alternately, whumper binds whumpee up and gags him so he can’t move or cry out, then tosses him in a corner as above, so that whumpee can only listen as his rescuers pass by without even knowing he’s right there.

Whumpee has been kept underground for as long as he can remember. He’s never seen sunlight, only fire. The earthquake nearly kills him, but he manages to survive. The sunlight on the surface sends searing pain through his entire body, starting with his eyes. He’s blinded, crippled with agony from the overwhelming light. A human voice breaks through the pain: “We finally found you. Welcome to the surface, whumpee!”

Non-human whumpees:

A fae whumpee is exposed to rain that’s been tainted with iron from an iron factory. The water burns his skin like acid. The whumpee has his chemical burns covered with bandages, but the bandages can’t take away the pain…

Sunlight equals torture. Whumpee knows this all too well. After all, he’s a vampire. But whumper has tied him up in a place where the sunlight is intermittent. Every few minutes, the torture stops and his skin can heal a little…but then the sunlight hits him again, and it’s excruciating.

Whumpee squirms as the sun blazes down on them, panicking because they’ll suffocate as soon as the water in the fountain dries up. They need water to breathe. All merfolk do. But whumpee is chained up and can’t escape. Whumper laughs as whumpee tries to get free. “My little fish out of water. I’ll let you go…as soon as you let me harvest your scales.”

Aerosolized poison for inhuman creatures: poison your whumpees with aerosolized versions of the substances that most afflict them. For example, whumper (maybe a hunter in this case) traps the werewolf whumpee in a chamber rigged with canisters of aerosolized wolfsbane. Or whumper could poison a fae whumpee with an iron-based gas. (Not sure how that would work. Just thinking on the spot here.) Imagine the inhuman whumpee trying to survive by wearing breathing protection, then having it ripped off when whumper attacks them.

Weather/environment:

One of whumpee’s regular tasks is to take care of the garden, which they don’t mind, as it allows them to spend hours outside, away from whumper. They dread rainy days because it means they’re stuck in the house with whumper and can’t escape outside. It’s been storming for days and whumper is in a particularly nasty mood, which means that whumpee is about to suffer even more, and they’re already not in good shape…

Caretaker is desperately searching for whumpee in the rain, but whumpee is nowhere to be found. The rain is getting worse and worse and caretaker is about to give up…but then they spot something in the grass. It’s a leg. No, a whole body. Whumpee’s body. Whumpee is unresponsive, their eyes glazed, their skin ashen. Caretaker sees that they’ve just about drowned from exposure to the downpour, and it might be too late…but caretaker is going to save whumpee, no matter what.

Whumpee is locked up in a tower that’s crumbling into ruin. Whenever it rains, the roof leaks and puddles of water form on the floor. They can’t escape the damp and are left to try to protect themselves with whatever they can find in the tower. After a bad storm, whumper comes to get them, only to find that whumpee has gotten dangerously sick from the cold and wet and needs help. But whumper refuses to call a doctor…

Usually prisoners are kept in the dark. This time, whumpee is kept outside in a wooden cage. Their only relief from the sun comes at night…but night is when whumper lets them out to torture them. And every time whumpee is thrown back in the cage, they can’t escape from the heat and light. A cold cloth on their bruises would be heavenly. But they can only dream about it as they wait for nightfall…

Whumpee is barefoot and lost in a pine forest. Cold and exhausted, they can only stumble forward in the dimming light, feet scratched and bleeding from stepping on countless pine needles. And whumpee has nothing except the shirt on their back to bandage their feet…

While hiking alone, whumpee slips and falls down a small cliff, gashing their side on a sharp rock. Exhausted and bleeding, whumpee can only lie in the gathering darkness and hope someone comes looking for them. To distract themselves, they start reciting all the song lyrics they can remember. As they’re slipping into unconsciousness, they hear a strange echo of the song they’re humming. It’s caretaker, blasting the song as they search for whumpee in the dark.

A thunderstorm hits when whumpee doesn’t expect it, when they’re out on a walk to clear their head and don’t have shelter. Lost in the driving rain and hail, whumpee has no choice but to shelter in the first place they find: an abandoned shed. The next morning, caretaker finds their bruised and soaked body in the one place they hoped whumpee would never find.

[jisungful]

abandoned.

summary :: breaking into an old abandoned elementary school isn’t always the best idea.

pairing :: chenle x gn!reader x jisung (platonic)

genre :: horror/thriller

warnings :: all characters are kind of dumb (first person to die in a horror movie type beat), breaking and entering, implied serial killer!au, murder, blood, descriptions of gore, psychotic actions, character death, all that stuff :D

word count :: 2.4k

a/n :: as I was writing this, I practically scared myself D: also the ending is kinda rushed but oh well

The end of the school year was supposed to be fun, full of surprises, and that one surprise was Chenle clinging onto you like a koala with a tree. Up to this point, you hadn’t thought of how much of an interesting boy he could be--but him giving you physical affection? You could never believe it.

Chenle let go of you before saying, “Come to the library with me and Jisung,” His hair was messy, as well as his uniform shirt. You assumed he just went around hugging other people besides you. He grinned at you, “We’re planning to do something fun as a celebration for the last day of school! Let’s go!” He grabbed your wrist tightly, but not enough to cause circulation loss, at least. You began contemplating whether or not it was a good idea to follow suit of the boy, knowing him. Nonetheless, you were curious.

You both arrived at the library, seeing Jisung already sitting at one of the tables reading a comic. Sitting down in front of the boy, he closed the book once he felt your presences. He greeted with a small smile, you and Chenle doing the same. “Alright listen,” Chenle started, clearing his throat before broadcasting the plan aloud, “We’re going to go to my elementary school—but with a twist.” He grinned before continuing, “It’s been so long since I’ve been there, so it’s abandoned now and I’m pretty sure no one monitors it anymore. Although... it is still intact so we need to break in.”

“Woah, wait, we are not going to break into an elementary school.” you cautioned.

Chenle rolled his eyes and rested his palm on his jawline. “It’s not like it’s haunted or anything. As I said, no one monitors it anymore--you guys just aren’t fun.”

Jisung clasped his hands together before letting out a sigh, “I thought you were joking at first and just wanted to go and play on the playground or something. But seriously?” He shuddered slightly, subconsciously flipping the pages of the comic he was reading earlier. You nodded at him before returning your gaze back on Chenle. All that was written on his face was smugness.

“We have to try it once. Think about it! It’ll be fun, you know? It’s like in movies, we just have to be cautious of our surroundings.” Chenle assured.

You can’t believe you’re doing this. You really can’t. It was 3 fucking am and you decided it was a great idea to go along with Chenle (out of everyone else in the world) and his plan to break into his old elementary school just for fun.

You packed your backpack with a few essential items: a flashlight, a few bottles of water, a baseball bat, and a crowbar. You kept it unzipped at the top so they could all fit, keeping your phone in your spacious hoodie pocket. You put on a mask and a beanie to keep yourself covered in case of security cameras. You put on your backpack, adjusting to the heaviness. If you were being honest, you had this rush of nervousness flowing through your body, the fear of not knowing what will happen to the three of you once you break in and enter the abandoned building. Nonetheless, you head to your front door to walk to Chenle’s house as the three of you decided to go to beforehand. Step by step, your body grew warmer as anxiety rose. It hadn’t hit you that you’d never done this before--you were always the type to stay in and not go out doing reckless activities; but here you are, doing that exact thing.

Immediately as you stepped on Chenle’s rug that was placed in front of the door, it opened, him now in front of you. He moved aside for you to enter the place. “You got everything?” He questioned and you nodded. “Jisung’s not here yet, so I guess we have to just wait.”

You both sat on his leather couch, staring down at the empty mug with thoughts roaming your brain. It wasn’t breaking in that was scaring you--but the thought of getting caught and living with the guilt that you had done something illegal was. Attempting to engage in conversation, you spoke, “How did you even come up with this idea?”

Chenle chuckled lightly, fiddling with the watch on his wrist. “It just came to my head out of nowhere, I guess.”

Hearing the sound of knocking on the door, you stood up abruptly, Chenle following after. You both headed to the front and opened it for Jisung. “You have everything, right? We should go now.” Jisung nodded and let out a breath he was previously unknowingly holding.

You three went inside of Chenle’s car, with Chenle driving and Jisung and you seated at the back. You took off your backpack and placed it on the floor of the car, the weight removed gave you sudden relief on your shoulders. Jisung plugged his phone into the aux cord and played soft, lo-fi music to soothe the nerves that were getting to you unknowingly.

You sighed, laying your head on the headrest of the car seat, looking out the window. It was a rather peaceful night despite what you were going to do in a couple of minutes—stars beginning to deem visible across the vast, dark sky, with only a few cars passing by in which you could count with your fingers. That was when you felt eyes boring into the back of your head, and you turned to see Jisung staring at you. You furrowed your brows and muttered a ‘what’. “I’m nervous, Y/N,” he breathed out, fear clearly laced in his voice.

You bit your lip. “It was Chenle’s idea, we can blame him for all of this.” you joked.

The elementary school definitely does not look as you expected--before coming, you imagined it to be completely abandoned, having growing moss on the walls, windows that were broken or punched, or even having “caution” tape around it. You guess it only happens in movies. But this school looked almost normal, for some reason, with only overgrown trees around it as the leaves fell on it. You let out a soft sigh, relieved that it looks fairly approachable and safe to go into.

“This is crazy, it’s been so long since I’ve been here. Let’s go!” Chenle beamed. You looked at Jisung for a moment, giving him a reassuring smile and a nod before putting on your heavy backpack and exiting the car as he did as well.

The three of you stood outside of the back door of the building, looking around for any suspicious cameras though found none. You pulled your mask up further before checking on Chenle and how he’s putting up with his attempts at opening the door. “I can’t find any key,” he grunted. You offered him the crowbar that was hanging off your backpack, and to your luck, it worked on opening the door. Jisung let out a surprised sound as he stood behind you.

The back door led to the gym in which you stood. It was empty, except for the lone basketball that sat in the middle of the vast room. The lights didn’t work, so you came to the conclusion that it would be best to use your flashlights, instead. You followed Chenle as he was the only person that knew the way around this place. He went toward the door which led to the hallway of the school, which connected to the many classrooms. The atmosphere felt terribly dismal, and it didn’t leave you with a good feeling. You couldn’t help but focus on the smell that hadn’t been freshened up for years.

“This is my 4th-grade classroom,” He slid open the door and across the room were sprawled out desks and chairs--it was like a forest, avoiding all of these objects just to get to the other side was like a journey in itself. In the back of the room were stapled class pictures of old students and teachers on a corkboard. Chenle desperately searched for the photo with him in it, searching across what seemed like around 10+ photographs. “Ah, here’s me!” He said, gesturing for you and Jisung to come to him. He pointed to his 10-year-old self, shining a flashlight on it to show it clearer. “It’s crazy how it’s still here.”

“You were cute,” Jisung commented.

“Are you saying I’m not cute now?” Chenle scoffed jokingly. He removed the photo from the corkboard and shoved it neatly into the small pocket of his backpack, thinking of showing it to his parents later today once he figures out a good enough excuse to where he found it.

You yawn, eyes getting tired minute by minute, second by second as you continue your journey throughout the huge school. You entered room 3B, which seemed like a music room—chairs stacked in 5’s, music sheets laying on the scattered desks, posters of musicians and guitar and piano chords on the walls begging to fall down to the ground as the tape holding it up collects dust. A piano lies near the corner of the room and Chenle sits on the bench that stood in front of it. He plays a mellow tune as you and Jisung look at all of the instruments that were isolated in a metal storage cabinet. You take out a recorder and try to remember the notes of the infamous ‘Hot Cross Buns’—however your memorization skill isn't the best and you end up with random noises. Jisung laughs at your attempt and you laugh back, putting the instrument back to where it was placed. You head towards Chenle, who was heavily concentrated on playing the song that was on the sheet on the music desk. You listen to the pretty sounds until he stops for a moment.

“It sounds beautiful,” you say.

Chenle chuckles before standing up and ruffling his hair, “I know, I’ve been playing practically since birth, you know?”

You both stood there, the moonlight reflecting on your skin through the thin glass. You turn your head, “Where’s Jisung?” You had thought the boy would follow you when you were walking toward Chenle—but he didn’t. There was no third shadow moving alongside yours and the boy beside you; the atmosphere grew cold. You beckoned Chenle to come with you before walking towards the classroom door to once again enter the hallway.

“Jisung! Are you an idiot? Where are you?” Chenle shouted out loud but there was no voice that followed. A curse word was muttered, you begin scrambling out of the music room to find the 5’11 boy that suddenly vanished into thin air. You knew how afraid he was during the car ride here and you never thought you would leave him alone like this. You stuck by Chenle’s side as you searched through most of the classrooms in the building.

No sign.

You were startled as you unlocked the door to the janitor’s closet, shining your flashlight down the stairwell that was somehow built in the tiny room. “Chenle, come here,” you beckoned. He rushed to you quickly; his eyes widened once he saw what was hidden inside the room.

“I’ve never seen this before,” he chuckled, “Maybe Jisung went in here, but for what?” You shrugged at the boy’s assumption, furrowing your brows before stepping in. Jisung was always curious about the world—you might think it’s his first life and he’s fascinated by every small detail that the universe could give him. Though, you would never expect that he would be curious about this particular stairwell.

A horrid smell hit you both once you reached halfway down the staircase. You muttered a curse word, “Fuck. It smells rotten in here,” Chenle agreed, nodding at you. You continued your way down to see Jisung’s body lay flat on the floor like a ragdoll. You took in a sharp breath as you quickened your steps down to see six other bodies lay in front of him. You rapidly shout out the boy’s name as you frantically attempt to shake him awake, wishing in the back of your mind that he hadn’t ended up like the bodies that were obviously sitting beside you.

Jisung groaned, sitting right side up as he held his head. “What happened to you?!” You question, helping him stand up. He looked around the room once more before taking two steps back when he watched the dead bodies lay on the floor.

He shook his head rapidly as his hands held onto your wrist. “I-I just saw that and I don’t know what happened but…” he shut his eyes. “I should’ve stayed with you guys. I’m so so so sorry.” You hear footsteps nearing you, both of your heads turn to the sound.

“Jisung!” You yell out. You froze once you see crimson flow out of his neck. Your eyes follow the holder of the knife’s arm to his face slowly. You stared with wide eyes and raised eyebrows. “Chenle, what the fuck are you doing?!” you breathed out.

Chenle tilted his head back with a slight close-lipped smile, enigmatic. Your eyes filled with tears as you watched Jisung’s blood drip, his arms holding onto what he thought was his best friend. “It’s so fun doing this!” he giggled, eyes crinkling through his smile. He pulled out the knife before quickly stabbing it back inside Jisung’s neck. “Is little Jisung whimpering? I’m just playing with you!” His psychotic laughter soon filled your ears and your breath quickened once you watched as Chenle stabbed him in the stomach laying on top of Jisung, a dark red pours onto the floor steadily. You wanted to look away but your body could do nothing but be full of shock.

Chenle’s head jerked toward your direction. You gulped as he stood up to walk toward you with an innocent smile. Once he cornered your back to the wall, he dragged the knife covered in blood along your jawline. You winced as the sharp blade cut through your delicate skin, you clutched onto nothing making your knuckles turn white. “P-please…” you whisper.

His smile dropped once the knife entered the side of your torso. “Now, you two can be with me forever.”

[gravesightings]

The slashers reacting to someone who isn't fazed by gore and blood. Something like the slashers walking into the house covered in blood and the s/o is all like "Don't leave blood stains on my carpet, thank you very much."

changed it up a bit per slasher if that’s cool with you. loved writing this by the way. thanks for requesting!

slashers reactions to: a s/o unfazed by gore and blood

Asa Emory / The Collector

...you’re not screaming your head off? he was sure you’d leave him right then and there when he had slit an intruder’s throat right in front of you.

would you like to see his collection? beware my dear, it’s not for the faint-hearted! watches for your reaction with great intensity. do you still love him? are you positive?

tests out just how much violence you can witness before you crack. unfortunately for you, asa might have forgotten to give you a head’s up beforehand.

was he threatening you...? it’s hard to tell. he doesn’t seem to want to hurt you though. all the displays of violence were presented to you almost. was he showing off, then?

once he had even brought you along to a victim’s home (fully-rigged) to watch him work. when you dismissively asked him what he wants for dinner after the whole escapade he’s left stunned. oh, he’s definitely keeping you.

Billy Lenz

bad billy, stupid billy! he’s done it now. why did you have to walk in at the worst possible time? now he’ll be all.... alone...? y..you’re still here?

approaches you cautiously and makes sure you haven’t gone in a trance of some sort. when he realizes you’re of sound mind (sorta?) he still has trouble comprehending it.

oh well. billy’s not gonna try too hard to understand you. he just knows you’re okay with it and that’s more than he can possibly ask for. now, would you let him cuddle you? please?

the stains bother you more than witnessing the murder? this little piggy makes his head hurt. if it means that much to you he’ll change and then you two can cuddle, right? right?

basic hygiene aside, attic man is full-on lovestruck. you smell nice and you don’t scream at him? he’s hit the jackpot! would keep you with him for as long as possible.

Bo Sinclair

“huh. you’re all sorts of fucked up too, aren’t ya?” just.. take it as a compliment.

if you previously weren’t on body-retrieval duty, then congratulations! now that bo’s sure you won’t freak out over a corpse, he’s gonna put you to work.

things are turning out great for him! less work and less bullshit. thank god. now.. how good are you with a crossbow?

if you aren’t actually up for some murder, he’ll begrudgingly teach you how to dress wounds instead. “gotta pull your own weight somehow,” he’d say.

this gross ass man would wipe some of the victim’s blood on your face while you’re patching him up just to tease you. he’ll even laugh at you as he does it. (that’s just his way of being friendly.)

Brahms Heelshire

struggling to understand at first. run him through this again - you’re mad at him for ruining the rug and not for disemboweling a man in cold blood?

doesn’t believe you in the slightest. prepare for some bloody shenanigans! uh-oh, it seems he accidentally got all messy when he was getting rid of the body. would you please clean him?

you’re scolding him for ruining his clothes? are you not about to throw up? .....have you finally lost it? oh god no, what has he done?! immediately starts checking you whilst still in the bath.

no, don’t swat him away! please tell him you’re alright! did you hit your head perhaps? was it psychological damage? he’s not qualified for this!

once he’s past the manic state, he’d still look at you weird from time to time. this is a huge relief for him but ...really? he got this lucky with you? are you sure you didn’t hit your head?

Bubba Sawyer

so hear this: it’s been people... all this time. that’s the secret to good chili. cue bubba nervously shuffling behind you, mentally preparing himself to pick you up and lock you in his room in case the others start attacking you.

“huh. you don’t say,” ....everybody’s surprised at this point - even grandpa sawyer! after a moment of silence there’s a lot of hollering and yipping. bubby found himself a keeper! how lucky!

this has literally never happened before so bubba himself is pretty shocked. the rest of the family is just about ready for an impromptu celebration though! tonight’s special guest: you!

unless you’re against being a cannibal, you’re sure to have lots of fun! if you are - well then, be prepared for an unfortunate demise. (bubba would be upset, but he wouldn’t go against his own family.)

immediately accepted by the entire family. the gore doesn’t bother you and you love bubba as he is. what more is there to ask? actually, maybe do some chores too.

Jason Voorhees

how long have you been standing there? jason immediately drops the victim, frozen in place and silently pleading with you not to run away.

when you reach out to wipe some blood off of his mask he tenses, but he’s too afraid to make another move. were you... cleaning him? after you had just seen him crush a man’s head with his bare hands?

very emotional. if you ask him if he’s hurt - there goes his heart. it’s gone. it’s yours now. smile at him and he might actually fall to his knees. a huge weight had just been lifted off his shoulders.

incredibly relieved. all this time he’s seen himself as a monster but you? what has he done to deserve you? he’s so thankful.

still keeps you away from the gore as much as possible but it’s more of his overprotective side taking over. now that he’s sure you aren’t afraid of him, he’ll be so soft with you.

Jesse Cromeans / Chromeskull

not shy about his job but makes sure you have little to no involvement in it. impulsively comes home blood-soaked one night just to test you.

your reaction, or lack thereof, has him fascinated. merely tilts his head at you when you warned him about making a mess. cheeky.

sees it as an open invitation to be more himself around you. but he’s not about to drive you over to where his victims are just to show off. (as tempting as it may be.)

starts off as subtle as possible. bartender asking for your number? check it babe, his head’s on the floor now. you discover very quickly that being subtle is not one of his many talents.

his kills may be messy but jesse himself is a very well-groomed man so you don’t need to worry about him embracing you whilst covered in gore.

Michael Myers

did you just yell at him for tracking in blood? are you serious?

mikey here would be confused enough to actually listen to you for once, kicking his shoes off by the doorway, eyes fixated on you as you rush to clean up the mess. how odd.

beware this man’s morbid curiosity. the gears are turning in his head as he approaches you, babbling on about fresh clothes or something of the like. mikey suddenly decides he has selective hearing.

his hands shoot up and you freeze immediately. he cups your face in his hands as he stares you down, his touch disturbingly gentle.

it would have been endearing if not for the fact that he was actually wiping his bloody fucking hands all over your face. there’s not a hint of emotion present and yet, you feel as though he’s having fun.

Thomas Hewitt

ah, shit. why did he have such horrible timing? he stops dead in his tracks in front of you, freshly out of the basement where he had been working on the meat all day.

this is it. this is the part you leave him, realize how much of a monster he is. any moment now, you’ll start screaming bloody murder. he’s--

“you want some sweet tea?”

huh? did he hear you right? when he doesn’t respond, naturally you repeat yourself. sweet tea? you’re offering him sweet tea? he’s in shock. maybe he needs to sit down.

he stares at his hands, then down his apron - all blood-soaked and disgusting. then he looks back up at you, offering him a cold glass of sweet tea with a smile. nervously clears his throat before taking a swig.

the loud beating of his heart is distracting. why is it so hard to look you in the eyes all of a sudden? he’s glared at many people before, no problem. ah yes, the mortifying ordeal of falling in love.

Vincent Sinclair

anxiety powerhouse vincent would slowly back away, blood-soaked and apologetic. don’t look at him! he doesn’t deserve your love. he-- ....oh, the floor?

quickly runs off to clean himself, dodging all the furniture best he can in his flustered state. did he hear you right? you were worried about the floor?

checks back to see if he’s made a mess. if so, he’ll clean it up himself. just sort of stares at you in confusion for the rest of the day.

the next time he kills someone in front of you, he’s cautious. when you respond the same way he’s visibly relieved. thank goodness. vincent is a lot more relaxed around you now.

begins to make a conscious effort to be as clean and efficient with his kills as possible. it would take some time to adjust, but now he’s much more dangerous.

[fragileizywriting]

New fic is out for this AU!

pairing: Cat!Marinette / Ladybug!Adrien (Lady Noire / Misterbug) word count: 3,247 chapter: 1/1 rating: G summary: “You make me feel safe and wanted.” “You are wanted, little kitty.” “You know what I meant.” “I meant by me. You are wanted by me— and I know you know that— but I want to repeat it anyway. I always want you to be happy here.” AO3 | Start AU Here | Previous Fic in AU

“Kitty?”

“My mom.” It’s all Lady Noire can reply through all of her sniffles. She curls up tighter into a ball on the couch, pinching her eyes shut to the point it hurts, curling up her arms and legs and tail and head so that she becomes a single black smudge on the couch. A stain. Just simply a stain. “My mom. Always my mom. It was my mom again.”

Her head hurts. It’s foggy and full of cotton, so stuffy from everything. She’s grateful for the shade in his room that gets darker and darker as the minutes tick by, casting the space in total darkness, so that way he doesn’t have to see how miserable she is.

It must be horrible to have to live with an east-facing window. Her plants would love it. Her eyes, though, not so much.

She grabs for a decorative couch pillow above her head, swiping it and hiding her face, giving her even a bit of reprieve from the light.

Adrien sits down in front of her on the couch. She hears the noise of his pajama pants crinkling as he sits cross-legged on the rug underneath the coffee table, hears how he drums his fingers on his thighs, and hears how slow and steady his heartbeat is. He’s always so steady. Always so firm and anchoring to her. Even if the world continues in its attempt to rock her boat and tip her over and submerge her. Adrien always holds on for her when she’s too tired and too scared and too lonely to do so. “I’m sorry, kitty.”

“Her idea of comforting me is by telling me to be stronger. Whatever it is.”

He pauses. “Do you… do you want to talk about it?”

“It— it doesn’t matter. What I was upset about in the beginning is gone— I’m more upset at my mom now. Tell me how your day was first.” Because it’s always better to ask first about others than talk about her own problems. She doesn’t want to think about it for so long. If there’s any chance of forgetting about it, even for a little while, she’ll be happy.

And Adrien knows this. He knows this, because he knows her, and knows that her changing the subject is a cry for help. A flag upside down, calling out in distress. She’s sinking. It hurts. She’s injured. It shows. The silence is enough to make her remember the turbulent storms that made her cry in the first place, causing her to coil tighter, causing her to coil smaller, all in an attempt to get rid of the noise in her head.

He puts his hand on her head.

The hand at her scalp is soothing, and still damp from the shower— her lashes flutter when he gets a purr out of her, even if it’s a little watery. “My day was okay.”

“What did you do today?”

“I had school,” he shrugs a bit, jostling the hand that pets the soft parts of her ears. She knows about school. She’d spent the entire day boring a giant hole at the back of his head, chewing on her tongue like it was personally causing her grief, doing her utmost best like she always does to not accidentally tell Adrien that she’s the superhero that vaults through his bedroom window every afternoon. “Nothing, really. No extracurriculars for me today, either.”

She knows that, too.

She’d asked him at school.

He’d managed to stammer out a whole sentence to her today. To Marinette today.

He doesn’t have a problem talking to Lady Noire. But Marinette is an obstacle that he genuinely can’t conquer, no matter how many times she tries.

“I just came home and did homework and went to take a shower and suddenly…”

“And suddenly I’m here crying into your couch. I’m sorry,” she tries to fill in the gaps when he struggles on what to say next. “I’m always showing up with some kind of problem, aren’t I?”

“I don’t mind. You know I don’t. I love taking care of you— you’re my best friend. You know that, right?”

She does. Of course she does. That’s why it hurts so much.

“Some hero of Paris I am, huh?” Oh, she sounds bitter. “Showing up at a civilian’s house crying about personal life?”

“Hey,” he whispers, with something stern in his voice. “Stop that. Don’t talk like that— that’s not nice to yourself. You know you’re allowed to have problems outside of fighting Hawkmoth.”

And that’s it, really. That’s what gets another round of tears to freefall down her cheeks, but they come out sideways because she’s laying on her side— she can’t feel the tears track down on her black hexleather mask, but she knows she’s crying. She knows there are tears sloping across the bridge of her nose and joining with the tear pattern from her other eye, because she can feel how wet the whisps of her baby hairs feel against her ear when the tears finally get there. “I wish I didn’t have this.”

“Oh, kitty— I’m so sorry—”

“My mom just wants what’s best for me,” she feels herself get smaller and smaller, hiccuping hard enough for her to jump. Will she disappear? She wants to. Can she? Will Adrien let her? Probably not. He has a habit of wanting her to be happy, even when she wants to do nothing but disappear forever. “But we get into arguments about what that is all the time.”

“I know.”

“How I should be trying harder in school.”

“Yeah.”

“How I should”—she pauses, trying to think of something, anything, to fill in the gaps—“be trying harder to balance my civilian life and superhero duties.”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, kitty.”

“How I need to be better. How I need to stop crying. How I need to do everything except what I’m doing now, because it isn’t enough.”

“Kitty…”

“She wants me to succeed, but instead of comforting me, she keeps adding more stress onto my shoulders by telling me how I should be dealing with my problems instead. And it hurts. And it’s painful. And I’m lonely. And I can’t do anything about it.”

“You have something you can do. You can stay right here with me. You can stay right here until it feels better. All of it. Everything.”

“It’s hard being a superhero,” she whispers. What an understatement of a lifetime. What does she choose to talk about first? What does she pick to say? “I don’t know how Mister Bug does it without breaking down.”

“Maybe he does. Maybe he struggles just as much as you do.”

“I don’t know. It’s hard to imagine that. Do you think he’s okay?”

“Well, he’s just a human. Just like you are. He has problems too, doesn’t he?”

“I can’t picture Mister Bug having problems. I should ask him.”

“I don’t think you need to,” Adrien shrugs. “I think he already knows how much you care about him.”

“Then, should I be going to him and telling him what’s wrong? Do you think he’s upset, knowing that I choose to talk to someone else about my problems?”

“I think he’s happy that you have someone you trust,” he whispers, damp fingers tracing the shell of her hexleather ears. She can’t feel it like her normal skin, because it’s a magical suit, but the little triangles at the top of her head twitch as if they’re sensitive to touch. “I think it makes him feel content, knowing that you go to someone you like and talk about your issues instead of bottling them up.”

“Love,” she corrects. “Everyone knows that I love you.”

“Love,” he repeats back to her with a smile. “Right. Yes. I think it makes him feel good, knowing you go to talk to someone you love about your problems.”

“The whole world knows, you know. Even Hawkmoth knows that you’re my best friend. People talk about it on social media all the time. We’re a pair. We’re a duo. We’re a matching set.”

If only people knew just how close the two of them actually are. Selfies taken on the street when either of them finds each other, pretending to act like simply a celebrity finding another celebrity on the streets of Paris, instead of being two best friends.

“We’re a team,” he whispers.

“Team shark.”

“Exactly,” he talks even softer. “We’re a team, little kitty. You and me.”

“Because no jaw is too strong,” she replies.

“No smile is too full of teeth,” oh, there’s a smile in his voice.

“And no mouth is too wide to keep me away from you. Never. No Akuma. No Lady Noire’s mother. No stupid photoshoots that they pencil you in at the last minute. No world-ending apocalypse that Mister Bug and I have to fix every month. Nothing will keep me from you.” They settle into a silence that is only partially filled with her sniffles and the occasional wipe of her mask with the back of her hand. It’s a shame she can’t feel his fingers on her back, following the lines of her spine like she knows he’s doing— but it’s the sacrifice she pays up in order to stay protected from Akuma battles.

“Nothing will keep me from you, either. No nightmares, no Akuma, no fangirls that drive me crazy.”

She listens to the silence, opening her eyes to the darkening room, watching the sky outside his floor-to-ceiling windows start to orange and purple. It’s such a pretty sight, watching those clouds drift lazily by as Paris turns into a sight reminiscent of a dream. No wonder he doesn’t draw the curtains closed. Or maybe he just wants his room accessible to her at all times. “You know, sunshine, my uncle said that if I bottle up too many emotions I might start to break things.”

His eyes look like stars, looking at her in alarm and worry. “Like, you’re going to get violent?”

“No! No. Never. Not really. You know I wouldn’t.”

“Oh. Wait, then I don’t understand what you mean.”

“It wouldn’t be my choice. It would be just like a misfire of my powers.”

“A misfire?”

“It’s kind of like a protection, or a last-resort. When I’m so stressed out that my body just goes into self-preservation, making sure that it’s impossible to take my miraculous ring in case I’m indisposed.”

“Oh. I never knew this.”

“It’s to stop me from getting Akumatized.” As if the explanation makes this any better. “But it’s still not a good thing. Self-preservation is a pretty selfish thing to happen.”

“What”—she watches him lick his lips, as if he’s trying to choose his next words carefully—“what does it look like?”

“How do I explain this— it’s kind of like— uhm. Do you remember that movie we watched?”

“We watch many movies together,” he snorts, scrunching his nose into something silly when she cracks a smile.

“Come on. The one with the wizard.”

“Do you know how little that narrows it down?”

“The one with the demon.”

“Oh boy. Remind me not to join any charades groups with you— we’d lose every round.” The two of them snicker at each other.

“Okay, it’s the one where the woman who falls in love with—” she pauses. “A guy.”

“Wait a minute. What were you going to say?”

“Just some guy.”

He narrows his eyes. “Some guy you really like.”

“He’s okay.”

“What’s his name?”

She twiddles her thumbs. “Howl.”

Recognition sparks in those beautiful emerald green eyes of his. “Oh. Oh. The love of your life, yes. I’m aware.”

“He’s not—”

“Yes he is.”

“I’m not—”

“Don’t bother lying, little kitty. I know why you love rewatching the movie with me, you little gremlin.”

“The music,” she argues, feeling her cheeks heat under her domino mask. “The atmosphere. The flowers—”

“The magician boys,” Adrien grins. “Howl especially. Admit it. You have a thing for blondes.”

“I— I do not. Anyway,” she tries her hardest not to grin back. If only he knew. If only he knew that she’s not thinking of Mister Bug when he says that. “Shut up. Stop looking at me. Stop it.”

“Am I right? Am I?”

“You’re harassing me.”

“It’s not harassment, it’s endearingly interrogating.”

“I’m moving on! I’m moving on from this topic!” She paws at him when his mouth twitches hard, trying to keep his laughter out. “Do you remember when Howl got so upset that his hair changed color?”

“And there was goo coming off the walls?”

“Yeah! Exactly! The room was shifting super weird and goo was dripping everywhere? Something similar happens with the black cat miraculous when they’re super upset.”

“Similar? Or do you actually make goo?”

“Just similar. I’m not a gooer.”

“Are you sure?”

“I promise, I’m goo free.”

“How free of goo are you?”

“Pretty gooless.”

“I don’t want to see you all gooey,” he ducks his head, smiling at her with a quirk of his mouth like he always does when he’s teasing. “I don’t ever want to see that happen. Ever. And it’s not going to happen, because you and I are a team, and team members don’t turn into goopy sludge.”

Does he know how much that means to her? To hear the words out loud that he doesn’t ever want to see her get to the breaking point where her miraculous powers start to drain and create vacuums in the air around her? That he’s willing to do whatever it takes to make sure that she never gets to the stage where she breaks windows and concrete and whatever surface it is she’s standing on— whatever object she’s holding?

Her smile is so watery.

So, so watery.

“What? The concept of a jelly Lady Noire too strange for you?”

“Anything that isn’t my kitty in her normal and natural form is too strange for me,” he shares a smile with her, those beautiful green eyes looking at hers. “But don’t worry. If it ever gets to that point where you’re a gelatin, I’ll love you. Even when you’re gooey.”

“Gross.”

“And oozy.”

“Ew.”

“And goopy.”

“Ugh. Why do I sound so disgusting?”

“I’ll love you even if you’ve turned into a slime.”

“Watch out, Hawkmoth. Slime Noire is here. Even though I don’t actually turn into slime physically, I am emotionally. Try taking my miraculous now.” They share laughter hard enough to hurt in the spaces between her ribs. His laughter soothes an itch that is somewhere next to her heart— it’s a warm and gentle balm. She loves him. She loves him so much.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he tells her when she finally picks up her head from the couch, wiping at her eyes, smiling down at him. He has to crane his head up to look at her from where he is, sitting on the rug, but it doesn’t look like he minds it. “I’m glad you showed up, kitty. It’s lonely without you here.”

“I like coming here.” As if she even has to admit it. As if he doesn’t know. The only reason why she doesn’t stay permanently in this room is because of all the plants she’s populated her room with. And, of course, the whole problem that Adrien doesn’t know her secret identity. Hard to take a shower in a hexleather suit. It’s not like she would be able to move in and be able to use the bathroom. “You make me feel safe and wanted.”

“You are wanted.”

“You know what I meant.”

“I meant by me. You are wanted by me— and I know you know that— but I want to repeat it anyway. I always want you to be happy here.”

“You already make me feel happy. Always.” Oh, she can feel how her cheeks stain harder underneath her hexleather mask. “I know your house is quiet, but— when I’m here with you— it doesn’t feel so overwhelming. Being in my house makes everything so loud. So many cousins asking me to help them. So many aunts and uncles begging me to cover their shifts or go do errands. And my mom—”

Well.

“You don’t have to do any of that here.” He lifts his arms up, offering himself for a hug when she cuts herself off and starts to think about it all over again. She slips off the couch quick enough to startle him, planting a knee at the side of his hip and another between his legs and crushing his broad shoulders into a hug. His fingers find a way through her braid, just like always, massaging a certain spot on her scalp that makes her eyes role and see stars. “You don’t have to do anything. I want you here.”

“You’re just trying to make sure I don’t turn into Goopy Noire.”

“Maybe I like the idea of being able to save the citizens of Paris from a sludge,” he laughs so warmly into her shoulder. “Being a superhero of my own. Who knows. Or maybe I really do care about you, kitty.”

“What a weirdo.” Oh— her voice is cracking.

He doesn’t mention it. “God, I know. Caring about my best friend is so stupid these days.”

“Yeah. Who does that?”

“People who love one another.”

“Wait. Are you admitting you like me?”

“Don’t tell anyone. No one will hire me for modeling gigs if they found out about my secret.”

“You know what? Just because of that, you’ll be the first one to get consumed by my goo.” She dissolves into laughter so hard that the both of them tumble backwards on the rug from how much the both of them shake, grinning at each other like the idiots they are, snickering and poking fun at each other.

“Ew,” Adrien manages to say at some point during their laughter. “That sounds disgusting.”

“It’s the price to pay.”

“What price? What am I paying for?”

“No idea. But it’s the price you’re going to have to pay,” she wheezes out between snorts, peeling away from their hug just enough to make eye contact.

He can’t see her as well as she can see him. It’s dark now, and it’s way too dark for human eyes to see in his room. She can see him in perfect clarity, of course, because her miraculous allows her to see in the dark as if it were still daytime— so she gives herself the luxury of looking at him without him pulling a face or teasing her.

Just a little snippet.

Just a little indulgence.

Just a little moment that is hers that she won’t share with anyone else.

And yet, it’s as if he knows what she’s thinking about anyway, like he can read her face in this much darkness. His thumb rubs circles on her domino mask, wiping away her tears and her worries and her problems with that smile he only gives her. It’s not his Agreste smile. It’s Adrien’s smile. Toothy and stupid and silly and his— he’s not self conscious about himself in front of her. He never is. “You’re important to me, little kitty.”

“You’re important to me too, Charming,” she wiggles her toes in her boots before tackling him into another hug that makes her feel all warm and fuzzy. “I love you.”

“I love you too. Always. Every day. Gooey or not.”

AO3 | Start AU Here | Previous Fic in AU

[notveryglittery]

battle weary

summary: he was supposed to have cried until he couldn’t anymore, put away all of his problems, and go about the next day like nothing had hurt him at all. wc: 2,850 / ship: platonic prinxiety (roman & virgil) warnings: lots of hurt feelings, mentions of manipulation and lying, brief questioning of one’s existence. lmk if i need to add anything! author’s note: y’all have @blinksinbewilderment​ to thank for this one. i was supposed to write roman-centric royality hurt/comfort first!! no biggie, though, this was pretty cathartic :) thank you @sleepless-in-starbucks​ for beta reading!

spoilers for “putting others first”!!!!  read on ao3 

— — — — — — — — — —

Roman’s head was so full of confusion and pain and swirling thoughts, he was sure he’d fall over from the dizziness of it. A dull ache was beginning to spread throughout his skull, reminding him of how hard he’d tried — of backtracking on insults and stumbling over opinions and attempting to fix what he’d broken. He could barely sift through what they had discussed. Selfishness was okay sometimes, Patton had sided with Deceit, they’d gone to the wedding for nothing. Roman had given up the callback, had ruined their chance at a breakout role, for nothing.

Tears stung hot at the corners of his eyes. He wiped them away, frustration bubbling up his throat, threatening to spill out in sobs or… or screams or curses or something, he didn’t know, he didn’t know if he wanted to know. Roman finally moved from where he stood, the spot he’d been rooted to since he sunk out, since Thomas lied about Roman being his hero, since Patton lied about loving him, since they both ignored Deceit manipulating and using and lying to them, to him. He barely made it up the stairs, each step feeling higher as he climbed, the intended destination of his safe and quiet room feeling harder and harder to reach.

He hadn’t even realized he’d passed Virgil’s door until it was opening and his voice was breaking through the fog Roman was losing himself in.

“Hey, Ro, c’mere.”

Alright then. Showtime, apparently.

Plastering on a smile and standing up straight, he squared his shoulders before turning to face Virgil. He looked tired but relaxed, purple plaid pajama pants on to match his hoodie. He must’ve been in the middle of a project because his hair was pushed back with a headband. Before Roman could ask what Virgil required of him, his hand was taken and he was pulled across the threshold. The room was considerably brighter than usual with the setting sun casting rays of light through the window, where the spider curtains had been tied back.

Virgil guided Roman to the bed, where he sat him down, before going to retrieve something from the closet.

“Not that I don’t appreciate your company,” Roman began, managing a genuine yet sarcastic tone, “but I am… quite spent from filming today. Will this take long?”

“Depends on how cooperative you are.” Virgil said, backing out of the closet and carrying something rather large, hidden under a blanket.

Cooperative. Hah. Roman allowed himself a bitter smile. He’d been cooperative all day and look where it had gotten him. “Very well,” he agreed, scooting over when Virgil sat down beside him.

Virgil handed the box over to Roman and removed its cover. The Disney princess wrapping paper had to have been from years ago, dug out of storage just for this. He glanced at Virgil, who looked like he might be shaking from nerves — it was hard to tell, though, whether they were the good or bad kind.

“What’s this?” Roman asked instead of opening it.

Virgil seemed confused by the question. “What’s it look like? It’s a gift. Duh?”

“I haven’t done anything to deserve it,” Roman said, frowning.

Virgil’s brows furrowed. “Well, not that you need to do anything to deserve a present every now and again, but… Okay, it’s for today’s episode. Is that a good enough reason?”

Roman’s grip on the box tightened a little. The sound of crinkling paper grated on his ears. That just made it worse. He’d blown up at Thomas and Patton, he’d laughed at Deceit’s name. Of course today’s episode wasn’t a good reason.

“I don’t think I can accept this.” Roman held the box out for Virgil to take back.

Virgil didn’t look annoyed or frustrated with Roman’s denial, which felt unfair. Everybody else was already mad at him, what was one more? Virgil took the present and set it on the floor before he pivoted, pulling his legs up onto the bed, and facing Roman.

“Alright. What happened today?”

“Nothing,” Roman answered immediately.

Virgil narrowed his eyes. “Let’s not invite anyone unwanted to my room, okay?”

Roman doubted Deceit was even paying attention to any lies in the Mindscape. He was probably too busy living it up, celebrating his acceptance, relishing in the glow of approval from Patton and Thomas.

“I led our chat to the trolley problem and sorta put the lives of Thomas’ friends in danger. Surprised you didn’t feel that one.” How could he have done something so stupid? Especially after they all knew Thomas didn’t take well to putting Joan in harm’s way.

Virgil folded his arms over his chest. “Locked myself in here and kept very busy to avoid it all.”

Roman wasn’t sure how Virgil could have possibly not noticed the trashing of the living room and Patton’s boss battle, but he wasn’t going to question it. “Deceit took Logan’s place, again. Did a better job of it this time.”

Virgil tensed.

“Said how the way he manipulated me in the courtroom was just a prank. Funny. Wholesome.” Roman couldn’t be sure if it was a miracle or a testament to how well an actor he was that kept his voice steady. “I suppose I shouldn’t put words in his mouth. He probably just didn’t realize what I was saying. Clearly, for Patton and Thomas to agree with him, he can’t be as bad as I’m making him out to be.”

“Roman,” Virgil interrupted, tone edging with panic before he took a deep breath, which Roman unconsciously mirrored. “Back up. Hold on.”

Getting up from the bed, Virgil went shuffling through his drawers before pulling out his old jacket. It was folded neatly. “Outta the costume,” Virgil demanded, “we’re getting cozy.”

Too tired to argue, Roman freed himself of the constricting top and pulled the hoodie on over his undershirt. Virgil unceremoniously shoved a bunch of stuff onto the floor and settled at the head of the bed, with his back against the wall. He gestured for Roman to join him.

This was definitely on the list of things Roman didn’t deserve. … Still. The hoodie seemed to carry with it feelings of protection and determination and while he was sure he hadn’t earned being cozy, much less anyone to be cozy with, he didn’t quite have the energy to disagree. Not anymore. So he sat himself beside Virgil and took to breathing deeply while Virgil started talking.

“If anyone is familiar with being tricked and lied to by that snake, it’s me. I fell for it. A lot. He was crueler, when we were young. If…” he paused. Roman felt him move but he didn’t look, in case Virgil wanted some privacy. “If he’s got Thomas…” He huffed. “Thomas and Patton on his side…”

“We went to the wedding for nothing.”

“We went to the wedding to support Lee and Mary Lee.”

“Yeah, and Thomas was miserable and angry and regretful. Because of me.”

“Now, wait—”

“He lost his chance at fame because I sentenced him to the wedding. I gave up my dr— his… our dream.” Roman swallowed, trying to dislodge the lump in his throat. “In the act of selflessness. Because going to the callback was selfish and bad. I… I wanted to go to the callback. More than anything. Which makes me selfish and bad. Which means I don’t deserve gifts or to be cozy or to have a seat at the table or—”

Virgil’s arm shot up, looped around Roman’s neck, and yanked him down. The startled noise in response was muffled by the pillow he found his face shoved into. He adjusted, realizing that his head was resting now on a cushion on Virgil’s lap. Virgil sunk a hand into Roman’s hair and began combing his fingers through. He shifted so that his neck and back weren’t quite as uncomfortable in this new position but stayed put otherwise.

“I’m not trying to stop you from saying what you want or need to,” Virgil began, keeping his gaze at a spot on the far wall. “It’s just that you were magnifying. Princey, sometimes we’re told one thing for so long that anything that opposes it default becomes wrong. And then we find out that that isn’t true. It shakes everything else out of place.” He took a moment to brush the bangs out of Roman’s face. “It’s a lot to handle, much less if it’s coming from someone you trust.”

Virgil sighed and looked down at Roman. He smiled, only slightly. “I know it’s hard to be open about your feelings. You’re really good at hiding behind a mask.”

Roman bristled, denial on the tip of his tongue. “You would know.”

Virgil’s hand stilled as he grimaced.

“I’m sorry,” Roman said hurriedly. Panic raced through his veins. “That was out of line.”

Sighing, Virgil continued scratching gently at Roman’s scalp. “No, you’re right. It was a big secret to keep from Thomas for so long.”

“I guess… At least he’s had some time to think about it. Since all this happened and distracted him,” Roman offered.

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Yeah, thanks.” He tugged a strand of Roman’s hair. “Back on track. You need to let us in, Ro. I’m guessing you had a lot to say when they pulled the rug out from under you?”

Roman hesitated, guilt squeezing painfully around his heart. He closed his eyes. “You could say that."

Virgil waited patiently.

"... He told us his name."

There was a long stretch of silence. So much so that Roman was afraid to even breathe.

"You laughed, didn't you?"

"I… yeah. And he. He compared me to…" Roman brought his arms up, pressing the heels of his hands against his eyes.

Virgil jolted, as if he were going to get up, but the weight of Roman's head on his lap stopped him. "He did what?"

A part of Roman was flooded with relief at the anger in Virgil's tone. Another part of Roman broke into pieces at the reminder that Thomas and Patton hadn't even tried to stand up for him.

"He may have had a point."

"Absolutely the fuck he did not." There was an electricity in the air now, as if Virgil's emotions were sparking off of him. "Sure, you laughing at an act of vulnerability isn't great. Comparing someone to everything they try not to be, that's… What the fuck?!"

"It's okay," Roman tried to say but the words got stuck, his throat closing up around them, as tears leaked unbidden from his eyes despite his best efforts.

"Ah, no, listen—" Virgil nudged Roman's hands away and then lifted him back up, cradling him against his chest. "You can cry, Roman. That's alright."

It wasn't, he wanted to argue, but shielded here from the disapproval of those that mattered to him most, and the crushing weight of failure, and the terror of not even knowing what the point of his existence was anymore… Virgil's arms held him close and tight, safe from harm, even if just for a few minutes… His shoulders shook as he sobbed, though hardly a sound came out.

Roman wasn't sure how long he stayed like that for but by the time he pulled back from Virgil, the room was considerably darker and the sky outside the window was black.

"Better?" Virgil asked, handing him a box of tissues.

"I don't know," Roman responded, voice hoarse and tone defeated. He wiped his face dry. "I don't think so."

"Might have a couple more bottles to empty, then."

"Pass."

Virgil turned on the bedside lamp. Roman flinched at the artificial light.

"I think the next step here is talking to Patton."

"I don't want to," Roman whined, not unlike a petulant child that didn't want to speak to their parents after being grounded.

"I'm not going to make you," Virgil promised. "You need to decide what happens first. Breaking down those walls between right and wrong, good and bad, with Patton? Apologizing to Janus for reacting the way you did but expressing clearly to him the damage he caused from the way he's treated you in the past? Opening up and trusting Thomas with your insecurities?"

"Can't I just go back to debating healthy sleep schedules with Logan?"

"You know he'd agree with me and send you right back to making this decision."

"Could you…" Roman hesitated, fidgeting.

Again, Virgil waited patiently. Roman wondered how he’d gotten so lucky. For all intents and purposes, he was supposed to have gone back to his own room to wallow in his misery and confusion. He was supposed to have cried until he couldn’t anymore, put away all of his problems, and go about the next day like nothing had hurt him at all. Instead, Virgil had diverted his course completely, and now he wasn’t alone while trying to put himself back together. It was… relieving. And terrifying.

“Could you… be with me? When I talk to them?”

Virgil grinned. “I’m proud of you for asking. That couldn’t have been easy.”

Roman thought that sentiment alone might tip him over the edge again, but he managed somehow to not burst into tears anew.

“I can do that, yeah. I’ll hang out on the other side of the room with my headphones on but I won’t actually listen to any music. That way, if you need help, you can call for me, and I’ll hear you. Is that okay?”

Roman nodded, not sure that he could keep his voice even if he spoke.

“I know there’s still a lot to unpack. I’m not saying that you are bad or wrong, but I think everyone involved in that conversation did and said some things that were bad or wrong. Obviously, I wasn’t there, but I can imagine things got heated and that you weren’t the only one to leave feeling bitterly, jittery, and not very glittery.”

Roman cracked a smile. “Patton turned into a giant frog monster.”

“What?!” Virgil exclaimed with a rough laugh. “Okay, wait, let’s go to your room. We’re having a sleepover tonight and you’re going to tell me what the hell happened earlier.”

Roman lit up, looking genuinely happy. Virgil’s heart ached, realizing how long it’d been since he’d seen such real emotion on Roman’s face. “Can you get snacks? There’s edible cookie dough in the fridge.”

“Yeah sure but don’t expect me to encourage your sweet tooth again after this,” Virgil teased, getting out of bed and helping Roman up too.

Roman picked the box up off the floor, clutching it to his chest. “Can I still have this?”

“Duh,” Virgil answered. “Go get the pillow fort set up, I’ll be there ASAP.”

Virgil opened the door, checking that the hall was clear, before gesturing for Roman to step out first. Before they could part ways completely, he caught Roman by the shoulder.

“I’m… really proud of you, Ro. You didn’t have to tell me anything. You’re willing to make amends. That’s pretty damn cool.”

Roman wanted to ignore the warmth blooming in his heart from such sincere praise but after everything else, it would have been hard to. He gave Virgil a tremulous smile. “I’m glad we’re friends. Thank you for looking out for me.”

A moment of silence followed and then they both took a step back from each other.

“Snacks. Edible cookie dough. Got it.”

“Pillow fort! I’ll even let you pick the first movie.”

Arriving in his room alone gave Roman a moment of pause. There was still… so much… that he had to fix. He took a deep breath. His time with Virgil, however, was a reminder that he wasn’t truly alone and that with enough time, patience, and support… Things could… things would get better.

[arrow-guy]

Talk to Me

Original request from @scrawlingwithstyle: Here's a request I've been sitting on for a bit. ClintxReader; Clint is deaf and most people rely on his lipreading skills, but Reader knows some ASL from when her family thought her autistic younger sibling would never speak (they became vocal close to seven years old). They have secret conversations across the room, thinking no one else on the team understands. . . . They're wrong. Adjust however you like!

A/N: Okay, it’s taken probably close to a year to actually get around to this, but i kind of breezed through writing it? And it was a whole bunch of fun to finally put down in a document. I didn’t change much about your request, but I definitely added to it, and made it a little romantic? Idk if it’ll come off as romance, it’s kind of goofy (it’s Clint, there needs to be a goof somewhere.) I really hope you like it, though!!

Page dividers by @carryonmyswansong

Pairing: ClintxReader

Word Count: 5.5k

Warnings: None

“Are you sure about this, Bruce?” I ask. “Ross let me go as soon as you went AWOL. I haven’t worked with people like this in years.”

“Of course I’m sure! You were the best back in the day.”

“Back in the day,” I laugh. “You make it sound like we’re ancient.”

“We’re not as young as we used to be,” he says. “But that’s the point. You’ll bring some much needed experience to the table.”

“But I’m not a spy and I definitely don’t have any powers.”

“Trust me, (Y/N), superpowers are not all they’re cracked up to be, and both spies have long since ceased their spying activities.” I cock one eyebrow and he laughs. “For the most part.”

“Saying a spy stopped being a spy is like saying you misplaced the hulk.”

“Ah, very true.”

“I’ll do it, though.”

“You will?”

“Well I can’t very well leave you to fend for yourself, now can I? As it stands, I’m already a shitty friend, working together can’t hurt things.”

Bruce grins and grips my shoulder. “I’ll see you Monday, then.”

I roll my eyes, but can’t fight back my smile. “Do I need to pack a bag, or will I be allowed to go home at the end of the day?”

“Not sure yet. Might as well bring a change of clothes and a toothbrush just in case.”

“Alright, then. I’ll see you Monday.”

“I can’t believe you actually pulled it off, Banner,” Stark says. “You wrangled a counselor for the team?”

“What,” I say. “Like it was supposed to be hard?”

Bruce laughs and reaches out to place his hand on my shoulder. “I’ve known (Y/N) for just about as long as I can remember. I’m sure she’ll be a good fit.”

“As long as you can remember, huh?” I look past Captain Rogers and find a sandy haired man. He grins when I meet his eyes. “Just how long?”

I bob my head from side to side. “Somewhere between twenty years and most of our lives.”

He whistles. “Pretty long time, then.”

“Mhm.”

Bruce clears his throat. “I’m sure (Y/N) wants to see where she’ll be working, so I’ll just show her to her office.”

Everyone in the boardroom waves and Bruce leads me out of the room. As soon as we’re out in the hall I sigh and bow my head, finally able to let my shoulders relax.

“That was a lot.”

Bruce chuckles. “Trust me, it’ll either get worse or stay exactly the same as time goes on, depending on who you’re talking to.”

“The blond guy who spoke up, that’s Hawkeye, right?”

“Clint Barton, yeah.”

“Will I be seeing much of him?”

“I’m not sure. I don’t really know much about the guy. He seems pretty happy-go-lucky and stable most of the time, though.”

“Huh.” I shrug and hitch my bag a little higher on my shoulder. “You never know with some people.”

“True. I’m sure you’ll deal with him at least once more after this. He’s the curious type.”

“I guess I’ll have to look forward to that, then.”

Bruce hummed in agreement and leads me to the elevator bank and takes me down to what will eventually be my office. He gives me a basic rundown of the facilities and shows me which restroom is closest to my office. I ask for a baseline reading on everyone on the team and Bruce rattles off what he’s noticed about the main five.

“Steve will most likely drop by to make small talk, but it may take some time for him to open up in any way that counts. Tony will joke about therapy, but once he warms up to you it’ll be impossible to get him to leave.”

“Oof, that bad?”

“He’s long-winded.”

“Then I guess I’ll have to enforce appointments with him when he starts to take interest.”

“Probably wise.”

“And Natasha?”

“I doubt you’ll see much of her. She has her ways of working through her issues on her own.”

“Do they involve murder?”

“Don’t know, and I don’t care to.”

“Got it. None of our business. I’ll let her come to me if she needs anything.” I plop down behind my new desk. “What about Thor?”

“Who knows. He shows up when he wants and tends to be a pretty jovial guy.”

“Ah. Is there anyone else outside of the tower I can expect?”

“Wanda, Sam, and Rhodey will be around from time to time. If Steve has his way, Bucky will move in at some point, and Wanda is currently in the process of moving into the tower, so you may see her more after that. I’m not sure how often she’ll drop by. She’s fairly private due to her powers.”

“Energy manipulation, right?”

He nods. “That, and other mind tricks.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“But that just leaves Clint, and we’ve already gone over what you can expect from him.”

“It doesn’t just leave Clint, Bruce.” I fold my hands on the desktop. “I expect to see you in here at least once a week. Ideally twice.”

Bruce scowls. “(Y/N), you know how I feel about that.”

“Yeah, well, I listen to your opinions on that stuff when I’m just your friend. Now I’m your therapist, and you’re going to listen to me because I know what works for you. So I expect you to get your pasty ass in here when you’re scheduled.”

“You’re making appointments for me now?”

“Until I’m sure you’ll come to me on your own, yes.”

He rolls his eyes. “Fine. Send me the schedule. I’ll see you at my appointed time.”

“Wonderful.” I relax my shoulders, letting my professional mask slip. “Thanks for this, Bruce. I mean it.”

“I know you do.” He cracks a smile. “You’re the only person I trust to get to the root of our issues.”

“I appreciate that. I’ll try not to let you down.”

“Believe me, (Y/N), if anyone’s gonna let me down, it’ll be the team.” I laugh and he heads for the door. “I’ll see you later. Good luck with your first day.”

“Thanks, Bruce. I’ll see you later!”

“So, (Y/N),” Tony says, spreading out on the couch across from my chair. “What’s your deal?”

“My deal?”

“Yeah, what makes you tick? What motivates you to try and heal the fragile minds of the Avengers?”

“I’d say a decent paycheck is a pretty good motivator, Mr. Stark.”

He seems disappointed with my answer. “Is that it?”

“Well, that, and I want to make sure Bruce is doing alright. He’s struggled with therapy in the past, and I want to make sure he’s getting the kind of help that he needs.”

“I see.” He presses his lips together and folds his arms. “You’re not even curious about the rest of the team?”

“Of course I’m curious, but nothing discussed in this tower will be shared with anyone outside. I take my patients privacy very seriously.”

“You sure you don’t just fear for your life?”

“Living in New York, I fear for my life constantly. That doesn’t mean that I’m worried about getting merced if I get a little loose lipped outside of work.” I sigh and lean back in my chair. “That being said, I won’t be sharing your confidential information with anyone you haven’t specifically given authorized access to your records.”

“Huh.”

“Yeah. It’s almost like I’m a professional, right?”

He smiles. “I’m really starting to like you, (Y/N).”

“Then I guess I have a lot more of this to look forward to, then, don’t I?”

I laughs and hauls himself up from the couch. “We’ll see.”

I make a note of his response in my open document. “Sounds like a tentative yes to me, Mr. Stark, and I’ll be here so long as you deem my services necessary.”

He nods and exits my office. He leaves the door open.

“How are you liking it here so far, (Y/N)?”

“It’s been quiet, Captain Rogers. It’s a bit like pulling teeth trying to get anyone to make use of their resources.”

“I guess it would be. We’re a relatively private bunch.” He pauses a moment. “And, please, call me Steve.”

“Right, Steve. Is there anything that I can do for you today?” I ask. “It’s entirely alright if you just want to make small talk.”

“Oh, well, uh…” He awkwardly clears his throat and shifts uncomfortably on the couch. “I guess I just wanted to get a lay of the land.”

“I understand.” I glance around my office. “I should probably bring in some art and plants. Make it a little less sterile in here.”

Steve laughs. “That might help.”

I smile. “Maybe an area rug?”

He shrugs. “Whatever you think would be best.”

“I appreciate the creative freedom.” I close my laptop, set it to the side, and settle back in my chair. “Is there something on your mind, Steve?”

“No,” he says quickly. He immediately looks conflicted. “I… well, kind of.”

“Feel free to speak. Nothing you say will leave this office.”

“You hardly know me.”

I shrug. “I know how stressful this environment can be. And, while your team is very good at what they do, they’re also the ones who are causing your stress.”

“I don’t know if I’d say that.” I watch him chew the inside of his cheek. “I guess I’m just concerned that things might not get better, even when Bucky’s moved in.”

“Why’s that?”

“I don’t know. I’m worried that it might not be a good fit for him, or that the team won’t accept him, or that he might not even want to be around me.”

“Those are all valid concerns. Have you mentioned any of this to him?”

“God no. I don’t want to stress him out more than I already have with all of this moving business.”

“I might suggest bringing it up. He might be having similar worries himself, and, as helpful as it is to work towards what’s troubling you with me, I won’t be able to settle your nerves.”

“Maybe you’re right…”

“If nothing else, it might open up a new line of communication between the two of you, which couldn’t hurt.”

Steve stays for another hour, just talking. When he leaves, he asks if I want the door open or closed. I don’t give him a definite answer and he leaves it open, just a crack. I laugh and start on his profile.

Someone knocks on my door and I glance up from my paperwork to see Clint standing in the doorway.

“Mr. Barton,” I say. “I was wondering when I might see you.”

He shrugs. “Here I am.”

“After two weeks, I was starting to think you were avoiding me.”

“If I was?”

“Then it’s none of my business.”

The corner of his mouth lifts in a smile. “I like that answer.”

I rise from my desk and gesture to the couch. He raises his eyebrows, but takes a seat anyway. I sit across from him and watch as he tries to decide just how he should sit. In the end, he leans heavily on his knees. Nothing about him is relaxed.

“I’m starting to think Bruce was wrong about you.”

“What’d the green bean tell you about me?”

“Nothing concrete,” I answer. “He just mentioned that you seem to have a positive outlook on things most of the time.”

He snorts. “Great.”

“Mmm, I see. It’s a facade, then?”

He frowns and presses a finger to his right ear. “Could you say that again?”

“I said, it’s a facade, then?”

“Sometimes.”

I nod. “Interesting.”

He barks out a laugh. “Yeah, interesting.”

I watch him look around the room, examining the art on the walls and the stacks of paper on my desk. When he turns his head to the left, I notice his purple earpiece and something suddenly clicks. He tilts his head to the side when he sees me staring.

“What?”

“Would it be easier if we signed?” I ask, signing along as I speak.

He looks surprised. “You sign?”

I laugh. “Yes. My little brother is on the Autism spectrum. When he was a kid, he was almost entirely nonverbal. Mom taught him sign, and the rest of the family learned along with him.”

“That must’ve been really nice for him.”

“It was nice to be able to communicate with him when he couldn’t vocalize what he wanted to say. He eventually started speaking when he was about seven, though.”

“And you still held onto the signing skills?”

“Of course! It’s not like he just, bam, started talking. It was a long process, and he still has nonverbal days sometimes.” Clint starts to actually smile and it warms my heart. “It’s come in handy in my particular line of work too. Deaf and hard of hearing folks need counsellors and therapists too.”

“Which brings the topic of conversation back to me.” He shakes his head and leans back against the couch and signs, “You’re a tricky one, (Y/N).”

“I’m not tricky!”

“Then what?”

“I’m accommodating.” I speak again, but continue to sign along. “You don’t have to tell me everything, or anything, really. But I’m here to help, if you need me.”

“Thank you.”

“Of course, Clint. Any time.”

“Seems like you and Clint are getting close,” Bruce says.

“I don’t know what you mean, man.”

“He’s in here all the time, (Y/N). There’s no way Barton needs therapy five times a week.”

“It’s not always about therapy, Bruce. I strive to make my office a safe space where everyone knows that they can speak freely. He knows that he can come here and chill out without worrying about the rest of the team.”

“Barton doesn’t really worry about anything, though.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that.”

Bruce stares at me, eyes narrowed, and snaps his fingers. "You like him."

I roll my eyes. "I do not like him, Bruce. And you're not even here to talk about Clint, you're here to work on yourself and managing your stress levels."

He rolls his eyes. "I'm sure there's something we could talk about aside from me."

I sigh and hold my head in my hands. "I've been here for two months. I haven't been around long enough to form anything more than tentative relationships with the rest of the team. I'm more concerned about whether or not they can open up to me than I am with my love life."

“Right,” Bruce clears his throat.

“Thank you.” He looks thoroughly ashamed and I have to laugh. “I appreciate the interest, but it’s just not something that you need to worry about.”

“No, I understand.” He smiles and shrugs. “I guess I just miss having that easy rapport with you.”

“I mean, we still have that, Bruce. It’s just not something that I want to talk about in the workplace. It’s one thing to shoot the shit over lunch on a Saturday, it’s another to discuss my patients with another patient, all of whom are my coworkers.”

“I didn’t think about it like that.”

I smile. “It’s fine. Did you want to pick up where we left off on Tuesday?”

“Yeah, sounds good.”

“(Y/N)?”

I’m startled by the woman in the doorway. “Ms. Romanoff?”

She shakes her head and steps into my office. “As long as you’re not a government official, it’s just Natasha.”

“Ah, right.” I sit a little straighter in my chair. “What can I do for you, Natasha?”

“Clint’s said you’ve helped him a lot.”

“I don’t know about that. We just talk. He does all the helping.”

“I figured you’d say that.” She moves quickly across the room and takes a seat on the couch. “I’d like to talk to you, if you have the time.”

“Oh.” I scramble up from my desk to sit across from her. “What about?”

“I need help working through a recent case.”

“Are you sure I’m qualified for that?”

“Well, you said Clint does all the helping. Maybe what I need is a sounding board.”

“Fair enough. Where are you caught up?”

Natasha rattles off the details of a recent mission. I do my best to follow her, but she loses me when she starts explaining the intricacies of a piece of Hydra technology they discovered. Eventually, she perks up, almost looking like she wants to jump up from her seat and run from the room.

“I think I’ve got it.”

“That’s great!”

She calmly gets to her feet and walks to the door. “Thank you, (Y/N).”

I shake my head. “It was my pleasure.”

“Even so, you helped me.” She flashes me an unexpected smile. “I appreciate that.”

“It’s not a problem, Natasha. I hope that we can speak again at some point.”

She nods and heads for the door. “I’ll see you around.”

In the hall I hear, “Oh, hey, Nat.” and Clint pokes his head in soon after.

I smile. “Hey.”

“Hey.” He leans in the doorway and folds his arms. “What’d Nat dump on you?”

“Doctor patient confidentiality, Barton,” I say. “I can’t tell you.”

His arms fall to his side and he dramatically slumps into the room. “I thought you trusted me!”

I laugh. “I do trust you, Clint. But it’s not my information to give.” He drapes himself across the couch and grins at the sight of me fighting back my smile. “If it were, Bruce would have full access to what we talk about in our sessions.”

“That’s private information, (Y/N)!” He laughs. “I see your point.”

“Good.”

“Did you want to grab lunch later? That weird little cafe down the street started serving some kind of coffee burger.”

“Ugh, and you want to eat that?”

“(Y/N), it’s a coffee burger.”

“With all the heinous shit you put in your body, it’s a wonder you’re still alive.”

“If you think I’m bad, you should meet my dog.”

“Is that an offer?”

“Maybe.” He shrugs. “Guess you’ll have to stick around long enough to find out.”

I roll my eyes. “It’s been four months, Clint. If I haven’t run for the hills yet, I’m pretty sure it’s not gonna happen for a while yet.”

Something twinkles in his eyes. “That’s good to hear. I was worried I might scare you off.”

“If anyone were to scare me off, it’d be Tony.” I shake my head. “That man is a handful.”

“What happened to patient confidentiality?”

“Since when is Tony being a handful a secret?” He laughs and I relax in my seat. “But, yeah, I’ll get lunch with you.”

“Really?”

“Someone has to make sure you don’t keel over from physically eating coffee.”

“Oh come on! It’s not like they solidified the coffee and stuck it on a bun!”

“How do you know they didn’t? Maybe they turned the coffee into jello, passed it through a meat grinder, and threw it on a griddle.”

His face scrunches up in disgust. “Ugh, that’d just be burnt coffee.”

“I’ve watched you drink an entire pot of burnt coffee.”

“Desperate times, (Y/N). They call for desperate measures.”

I sigh and shake my head. ”I guess it’s fine, so long as you’re not addicted to caffeine pills.”

“Those don’t do anything for me.”

“That’s terrifying.”

He laughs, hauls himself up from the couch, and offers me a hand. “Shall we?”

“Shall we what?”

“Head out for lunch.”

“Now? I thought you said later.”

“It’s been like five minutes. It’s later now.”

I laugh. “I can’t just go now. I have an appointment with Steve in twenty minutes. We can leave after that.”

He pouts. “Fine.”

“Don’t give me that look, Clint!”

He sighs and trudges towards the door. “I guess I’ll just have to make a reservation for one thirty.”

“That’d be great.”

He flashes a brilliant smile before disappearing out into the hall. I shake my head and move back to my desk.

“That man is gonna get me in trouble.”

“I thought you said you weren’t involved with Clint?”

“I’m not, Bruce.”

“Then what’s this?” He places his phone on my keyboard.

I pick up the phone and find an article titled “Hawkeye’s New Flame, or Just a Fling?” pulled up. A picture of Clint and I at lunch the other day sits just below a paragraph speculating who I could be. I snort and hand him his phone.

“Clint and I went to lunch. That’s all.” I sit back and fold my arms. “What’s the problem, Bruce?”

“I don’t want you getting dragged into some kind of media storm because you work with us.”

“It’s one article!”

“There’s at least four more like it that I’ve seen.”

“I’m not worried about it, Bruce. Clint just went out for lunch and some pap caught us talking. That’s it. There’s nothing more to it, but I can’t stop people from talking.”

“You shouldn’t have to deal with it.”

“No one should have to deal with anyone plastering their personal life all over the internet, but you know what? I’d rather get caught out in public with Clint than Tony.” I laugh. “Can you imagine the shitstorm that’d kick up if that happened?”

Bruce tries not to laugh. “I guess you’re right.”

“It was bound to get out that the Avengers brought in a counsellor at some point. It’s better that it’s like this instead of some media outlet picking up a rumor and deciding that you’re all unstable.”

“Well…”

“I’m not saying you’re the most sane bunch, but that’s no one’s business but yours. Regardless, don’t worry about this. It’ll be fine.”

“Alright.” He pockets his phone. “You’d tell me if something was wrong, right?”

“Of course I would, Bruce. If something comes up, I’ll let you know.”

I sit on the floor of the gym and lift the collar of my shirt to wipe the sweat from my face.

Clint plops down on the floor beside me and tips his head to the side.

“Definitely didn’t expect to find you in here,” he says.

“What, I can’t work out?” I groan and lay back. “Ugh.”

“You okay?”

“No. I knew I should’ve just stuck to the treadmill.”

“What’d you do to yourself?”

“Weights.”

He laughs. “Why did you do that?”

“I don’t know. Is wanting to be able to lift a very large dog a good reason?”

“I wouldn’t say it’s a bad reason.” He lays beside me and props himself up on his elbow. “I could help you, if you want.”

“I don’t know how I feel about being all sweaty gross around you.”

He pokes my stomach and I laugh and shift away. “I don’t know, (Y/N), sweaty’s the new sexy.”

“Aw, that’s sweet.” I laugh and scrunch my nose. “Also kind of gross.”

“Sweet and kind of gross, I think you’ve pretty much summed me up perfectly.” I laugh so hard that I snort and he grins. “So, do you want help working out?”

I press my fist to my mouth to quiet my giggling. “If you’re willing to, I really would appreciate it.”

“Then it’s a done deal.” I thank him and his smile softens. “Sorry about those articles last week, by the way.”

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it.”

“I should’ve warned you, at least. I’m used to it, but you didn’t sign up for pap shots and gossip columns when you took this job.”

I scowl. “Honestly, Clint. If you’re not gonna read my lips, read my hands. It’s totally fine. I don’t care. I had a nice time at lunch. A few dumb articles won’t change that.”

“You mean that?”

“Well, yeah. I like spending time with you outside of all of this,” I say, gesturing to the tower in general. “With, y’know, no expectations of maintaining all of the professional bullshit.”

“Pretty sure you’re the most professional one here.”

“Thanks, I’m glad that comes across in the day to day, but do you understand what I’m saying? Like I genuinely do not care about what a shitty news outlet says. At the end of the day, the only opinions that matter are ours.” I sigh and settle on the floor. “Sorry.”

“Sounds like we’re not the only ones who need therapy.”

I hum. “Maybe I do.”

“No shame in it.”

I smile at him. “I know.” I sit up and get to my feet. “It’s getting late, I should head out.”

“You’re in tomorrow, right?”

“Yeah, I’ll be around till noon. I’ve got a wedding later in the day.”

“Not yours, right?”

I laugh. “No, definitely not mine.”

“Cool,” He smiles up at me. “Then I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Since when do we have staff meetings?” Clint asks.

“Since we brought on a counselor,” Tony says.

I frown. “I’ve been here six months and I’ve never been to any kind of meeting.”

“I’m going to ignore the fact that you brought that up and just keep moving with the meeting.”

I snort and shoot Clint a look. He laughs and signs for me to stop. I wave him off and turn my attention back to the head of the table.

Tony rambles on for about half an hour before Steve cuts in and the two of them start going back and forth. They bicker for twenty minutes before Thor swans in, greeting everyone with his bright, booming voice. I was stuck in my office the last time he was on Earth, so our paths never had a chance to cross. Steve takes a moment to introduce the two of us and Thor vigorously shakes my hand, unintentionally jostling me around the whole time. He takes his seat on the other side of Bruce and the conversation picks up again.

I catch Clint’s eye twitching in my peripheral when Thor speaks a little too loudly. I gesture to get his attention and he raises his eyebrows when he meets my eyes.

“You good?” I sign.

He nods. “Can’t pay attention to save my life in these meetings.”

“I’ve never known anyone to compliment your attention span.”

He mouths, “Oh, ha ha,” and I laugh.

“You’re mean, (Y/N).”

“And here I thought you liked me.”

“Never said I didn’t.” He grins. “The way things are going, I’d say you’re probably just my type.”

I shake my head and hide my smile behind my hand. “Stop.”

“Aw, you're cute when you're embarrassed." I flip him off and he laughs. “That's a compliment!"

I snort. “Pay attention, Clint.”

We manage to make it through another hour and, by that time, someone has turned off the lights and started giving a presentation. I fold my arms on the table and rest my chin on top and beg myself to stay awake through this meeting. I’m sure it’ll only be a little while longer.

Clint’s hand creeps into my line of sight and he taps the table to get my attention. I shoot him a quizzical look and he lifts his eyebrows.

“You still with us?” he signs.

“No.”

“It’s going longer than I thought it would.”

“I’m honestly about to fall asleep.”

“Aw, (Y/N), no.”

“This is how I go out. Avenge me, Clint.”

“No!”

“It’s your job. You have to.”

“But who will help me through the trauma?”

I cover my mouth to muffle my laughter. “I’d be dead, that’s none of my concern.”

He shakes his head. “And you call yourself my friend.”

Natasha clears her throat, startling me away from the conversation. I try to pay attention to the presentation, but I just can't wrap my head around what they're talking about and Clint easily distracts me again.

"Quick question."

Surprised, I sign, "Shoot."

"Would you want to go out with me?"

My brain stops working for a second. "Wait, what?"

"I said, will you go out with me?"

My heart hammers in my chest. "Like as friends, or on a date?"

He sighs. "We've been hanging out as friends for months now. I'm asking you on a date, stupid."

My face heats and I sit back in my seat. “Oh.”

He laughs. “Did I break you?”

“A little.” I frown.

“Just say yes!”

Startled, I glance up the table, only to find Natasha glaring at Clint and I. Everyone is looking at us and I suddenly want to disappear.

“What’s the problem?” Steve asks.

“I’m sick of watching the two of them flirt with each other,” Natasha says. “You’ve been mooning over each other for months. Just say yes and be done with it.”

“Nat, they haven’t said a single thing since the beginning of the meeting.”

“They’ve been signing at each other the entire meeting.” She looks directly at me and signs, “I see everything.”

“Sorry.”

“Just say yes.” She looks very pointedly between Clint and I. “You’d be good together.”

“I thought you said you didn’t like him!” Bruce says.

“That was months ago, Bruce. Things change.”

“Don’t be hard on her,” Natasha says. “Clint’s an acquired taste.”

“I’m just gonna, um…” I gesture to the door. “I’m just gonna go.”

I see Tony and Steve nod and I shove my chair back from the table and make my escape. The door shuts behind me, and I’m free. I sigh, relieved to be free of the weight of everyone’s eyes on me, only for the embarrassment of having my crush exposed to my coworkers to settle deep in my stomach.

I press my fingertips to my temples and walk down the hallway. “I knew he was gonna get me in trouble.”

I make the decision to just go back to my office. Maybe I can at least get some work done or, at the very least calm down. I turn as the elevator doors close and catch a glimpse of the conference door opening at the end of the hall. I shift slightly so that it’s not in my line of sight.

The elevator ride feels like it’s too long and I immediately flop down on my couch as soon as I’m in my office. I can't get comfortable and shift around until I'm upside down with my legs over the back of the conch, staring at the ceiling. I press the heels of my hands over my eyes and groan out of frustration.

“I left without even answering him,” I mutter.

The door suddenly opens and I freeze, pulling my hands away from my face, waiting for whoever it is to announce themselves.

"(Y/N)?"

"Clint?" I try to sit up and smack my head on the edge of the coffee table. "Shit."

"Are you okay?" he asks.

I rub my forehead and sit up a little more carefully. "I'll live."

He takes a seat on the coffee table and watches intently as I sit upright on the couch and face him. He reaches out and gently touches my forehead, only to jerk his hand back when I wince.

"Sorry."

"Don't, it's fine."

"Okay." He sighs softly and shuffles awkwardly on the table. He stills when I touch his knee and takes my hand in his. "I'm sorry about the meeting. I shouldn't have put you on the spot like that."

"Honestly, Clint, you don't need to apologize," I murmur. "I got flustered and then embarrassed when everyone else got involved."

"I know. I probably like pushing your buttons a little too much."

"That's not it."

"But I do push your buttons."

"Yeah, but only 'cause I let you." He smiles and I squeeze his hand. "But I'm a deeply private person. To have Natasha butt in like that, no matter the good she meant by it, really set me on edge."

"I had no idea."

"I don't feel like I have to keep everything close to my chest when I’m with you. You tease me, but it’s never from a place of malice and you know me well enough that you never take it too far.”

“I mean, you give as good as you get.” He doesn’t meet my eyes as he runs his thumb over my knuckles. “But still. I should’ve just asked in private, but you know me.”

“Yeah. You’re sweet, but kind of stupid sometimes. More than a little impulsive. And way too fond of coffee.”

“Aw, I thought that was endearing!” He smiles when I laugh. “The invitation still stands, but you don’t have to say yes.”

“What’re you talking about?” He meets my eyes and I shake my head. “I’m not about to turn you down. You haven’t introduced me to your dog yet.”

“Oh, I get it, you only want me for Lucky.”

“Mhm.”

He shakes his head and kneels on the floor in front of me. “Shoulda known.”

“I know, I’m pure evil.” He grins and takes my face in his hands. “I should be fired, right?”

“Without a doubt.”

I hum softly and lean forward to bump my nose against his. After a moment’s hesitation, Clint closes the distance between us and gently kisses me. I place one hand on his forearm and tilt my head to the side to kiss him back. He smiles against my lips and pulls away, his eyes flitting over my face.

“So… about that dog.”

I have no idea what would happen to them after that, but I’d like to think they’re having a great time, petting dogs and continuing to mess with each other, all whilst falling in love.

I’d love to know what you guys thought of this little one shot. Did you love it, did you hate it? Did you breathe out through your nose a little bc you kind of laughed but also didn’t? Be sure to like, reblog, comment, or shoot me an ask and tell me all about it!

If you’d like to be tagged in future fics, please let me know!

Tag list:

@ghostlyhamlet, @claws-of-vibranium, @creaturefeatures101, @buckysendoftheline, @imagine-assembling-the-avengers, @ptprocrastination, @1950schick, @amayasymone23, @arfrona-and-marvel, @ek823, @fanaticfangirl001, @furrywerewolfcollector, @kissofvenom922, @dawn-phantomhive, @fangirlwithasweettooth, @mairhof1, @starryeyesbadguys, @trap-house-homiecide, @buckywhitewolfbarnes, @kaepm981, @howdoesoneadult, @pcdmesamidala, @thefandomplace, @sian22redux, @skeletoresinthebasement, @lady-thor-foster, @jazzcutie, @gaytonystark, @geeksareunique, @nyxveracity, @breezy1415, @feelmyroarrrr, @darling-loki​, @lemonadeorange73​, @princess-unicorn124​, @hermionie-is-my-queen​, @tofeartheunknown​, @queenoftheunderdark​, @avengerscompound​

[simon-newman]

Newman’s Anime Reviews - Code Geass: Lelouch of the Rebellion

Hello and welcome again to the 2nd of my 2021 anime challenge review.

For February I’ve watched something that my friends were trying to make me watch for years.

It might actually be more than a decade that I’ve been putting this title off and they were quick to add this to my challenge list once the opportunity arised.

Were they right to recommend this title to me? Should I have watched this anime earlier? Those 10 years ago?

Perhaps. Still - I’m coming here with mixed feelings on this show. But… I’ll talk more about it in the review proper.

Today’s title is the 2006’s anime by Sunrise.

  Code Geass: Lelouch of the Rebellion

  Now where do I even begin with this show? What even is this? What the hell is happening?

Well…

The Empire of Britannia is one of the 3 major political powers in the world of Code Geass - ruled by the Emperor Charles zi Britannia they invaded the country of Japan 10 years before the start of the plot.

Their absolute military dominance thanks to the use of cool mecha has led to unconditional surrender of Japan which is now known as Area 11.

It is there that our protagonist - Lelouch - the young Britannian student plans to take his revenge on the Emperor himself for what he’s done to him and his wheelchair-bound sister. 

I feel that it is important to put emphasis on this last part here because this is the ultimate motivation for our MC. Something that’ll drive him forward no matter what.

He wants to create a safe world for his sister. That’s it.

Need to protecc.

  The question that remains is: How?

How do a teenage boy banished to one of the colonies is supposed to change the world and cause a major power shift?

We get first glimpse at his supposed skill almost immediately - with Lelouch easily defeating an adult player in the game of chess. Nothing much so far but it’s an indication of his real power “shown” later on.

Lelouch is a genius… Or at least this is what the anime tries to convey to us. He is clearly smart and a gifted strategist with lots of charisma and a penchant for theatrics.

However - this is still not enough. That’s why something happens to push our protagonist forward at this stage. In a weird turn of events, a run in with anti-britannian terrorists and a top secret research subject Lelouch obtains the titular Geass.

What is a Geass? It is a power gifted to an individual which in case of Lelouch allows him to give anyone he establishes an eye contact with a single command that this person must follow.

This is actually one of the tame ones.

  From there on Lelouch joins and reforms the “terrorists” into “Black Knights” - a Rebellion led by his alter-ego the masked man called Zero - and starts executing his plan to take revenge… I mean to make the world a safe place for Nunnally.

From there we follow Lelouch as his Rebellion grows while he himself learns the limits and drawbacks of his power and tries his best to hide his identity as Zero.

Initially the show is quite entertaining - especially when it comes to battle scenes where we get to see Lelouch improbable planning and tactical skills at work. As for the other parts…

Yeah… I should have watched this show those 10 years ago because right now the parts with MC’s school life just don’t do this for me… They really slow down the plot and while they do serve the purpose of establishing various plot-important details it’s just... 

Well the pacing sucks.

Without any breaks and just the action sequences the anime would be very much rushed but the break parts at school just go on forever, developing into trivial stories used to deliver some little bit of exposition or character development. The balance is off and the show doesn’t get better until the mid point…

Speaking of which…

Nice mountain you’ve got there...

  There’s a major shift that happens somewhere in the mid-point of the anime that is bothering me to this day.

Who is the bad guy?

It might seem like a trivial question to many.

Obviously it’s Britannia! With their world conquest, asshole Emperor, warmongering royals, discrimination of conquered nations they call Numbers (in case of Japanese it’s “Elevens”) and engaging in wanton destruction and genocide for no good reason. They’re basically the Nazis.

With the above in mind there’s nothing wrong with Lelouch being willing to use all means at his disposal to achieve his goals… Right?

Monsters need to be stopped.

That was kinda the thing until the Battle of Narita where the Black Knights’ tactics caused the destruction of a town.

Now - this by itself could have been used to drive the point home with the Rebellion losing a lot of PR. After all the town was in the JLF controlled territory, inhabited by the Elevens and stuff…

Well. You see - the creators of the show didn’t think that was enough and/or missed the opportunity.

First of all - there’s no PR backlash for the Black Knights whatsoever. Nobody cares. The Britannian are now leading the rescue and recovery operations in the area and… It’s just weird. Why would they suddenly bother?

Secondly - it suddenly turns out that the people in the enemy-controlled territory were… Britannians? SOMEHOW. This is made to inflict personal level suffering to MC and some other characters as one of the character’s relatives dies in the event.

Third of all - after this very point there’s a major change. We no longer get to see Britannians committing atrocities but do get Lelouch crossing line after a line in the pursuit of his goals.

I think the creators realized that to make it appear more grey vs grey they can’t show Britannians as complete monsters but… It really doesn’t feel to occur naturally here. Were the person in charge of Britannians change again? Yes - I could accept that they are a better person than the previous leader. It isn’t so. And even if it was it wouldn’t undo their previous actions and made the characters that stayed seem really inconsistent.

It’s a major turn off for me when consistency in storytelling takes a back seat for a point to be made.

Because Zero’s not edgy enough without it I guess...

  There’s also another kind of inconsistency here when it comes to battles.

The cool mecha used by the Britannians are… Well. In the early parts they seem indestructible until the plot demands they’re not.

At first it seems that only other mecha have the weapons that can affect them. Then we see that some weapons do work BUT it is only when MC is commanding the battle.

It’s a magic wand that removes the plot armor from Britannians whenever Lelouch is there and often gives them to the allies.

Often - being the key word here.

One good thing is that it doesn’t stick. Plot-important characters don’t die but they are not immune to damage either. The mechas often get wrecked and require fixing. Lelouch himself is subject to this quite often as he’s not an outstanding pilot like others on his side.

It is thanks to that aspect of the action parts that the anime is not becoming one-sided and remains entertaining. You’re drawn to it to see what’s happening because it’s not just another battle.

Yes... Really entertaining battles...

  I think it is becoming apparent what’s the issue here.

There are a lot of things done wrong with this anime. Things that don’t necessarily break it but I can’t just overlook them. Things that are putting me off. Inconsistency, bad pacing, weird editing where some scenes are cut extremely abruptly - as if to reduce time. 

There’s also the usual issue of geniuses written by people who are not geniuses. Lelouch brilliancy is only guaranteed by the fact that people on the other side will do something stupid. Some of his actions are not the brightest and some are just downright stupid and easily could lead to his downfall were his enemies to have half a brain. Or worse - one action is such a poor choice it simply falls apart on it’s own - and you could expect it to the moment “it” happens (is there a point in keeping spoilers on this show? I’m talking about Geasing Shirley).

There’s also the braindead Suzaku - a subject so controversial on the Internet that I’ve hesitated to touch it here and decided to only reduce it to a small paragraph.

Yes. Suzaku is an idealistic foil to Lelouch. He serves his purpose. BUT. His idealism is stupid - not by the virtues he’s holding but by remaining blind to what is happening around him. He wants to end the discrimination without using violence but the Britannians are killing Elevens for no reason whatsoever. Time and time again the side he’s on goes against his principles and he still sticks to them. It is becoming less and less possible to emphasise with him with each incidence.

Still - there was a certain charm to this anime. It was fun to watch and only getting better the farther in I’ve gotten.

Not including the school drama.

All in all the score I was about to give was still going to be pretty low at this point. The anime was decent but far too flawed for my tastes… That was when the last story arc started.

The pizza...

  I must say. The rug was pulled from under my feet.

Those events were really unexpected. Emotionally draining and yet entertaining as nothing before in this show.

So many lines have been crossed in an instant - there was no return. Not anymore. Shit was happening and it was a spectacle to watch. Some men just want to see the world burn. Duh. I watched events unfold and I enjoyed it very much until the very end.

The end of a 1st season that assured I WILL watch the 2nd one when I find the time (I didn’t so that it wouldn’t affect this review).

All in all - the show’s grand finale is the high point that offsets all the problems I’ve talked about earlier. It is simply done perfectly.

And speaking of endings. It is time to finally end this review as well...

 Final Score: 7/10  

Status: Completed Season 1

Sentence: Lelouch vi Britannia commands you: Watch Season 2!

Previous: Kimetsu no Yaiba

[fallout-drabbles-n-stuff]

Sole loves Halloween and super looked forward to taking Shaun trick or treating when he was older, and they still want to take him even though it's post war. How would the companions (romanced) support Sole and Shaun?

(I had so much fun writing this! Thank you!! 🎃)

Cait:

“Alright little fella..uh, let’s do this.”

Cait had never gotten the chance to experience the quintessential Halloween as a child. Her parents certainly never dressed her up or brought her out for trick r’ treating..you know. So hearing you want to take Shaun out made her fall impossibly more in love with you, you were everything she ever wanted and then some. That being said, she still is pretty clueless- just going with the flow.

Curie:

“Awww, you look absolutely adorab- I mean, you look so spooky my little darling!”

If she could, she’d be the kind to take a million completely unnecessary pictures of Shaun and his costume- she was practically floating on air with happiness. She knew that “normalcy” was hard to come by for you, so she’d do everything she can to make celebrating perfect for you and your little one. Well, come to think of it, he was her little one as well. But that won’t stop her from making sure he doesn’t eat too much candy; she can’t have her little Shaunie getting a stomach ache.

Danse:

“Promise you won’t overdo it on the candy? Good, then by all means let’s get some candy, son.”

He’s a little rusty with this whole celebrating thing, the only memories he had being when he was very small in Rivet City and some kind soul taking pity and throwing some sweets his way. With that being said, he’s determined to make this the best damn Halloween he can for his child- seriously discussing with you just what was expected out of him. Also..you can count on him being #1 candy inspector.

Deacon:

“Ha, you’re in luck. I just so happen to be a master of disguise, come see and I’ll have you fixed up.”

As one could assume, Deacon was able to fabricate one of the best costumes you could ever dream of. Both him and Shaun were so excited, it made your heart melt. After the three of you went trick r’ treating, Deacon would suggest taking Shaun back to HQ so he could parade his little “mini me” around for everyone to fawn over.

Gage:

“Taking it would probably just be easier kid..but alright, but ya better split the spoils with me.”

He didn’t really get why Shaun wouldn’t just go and steal the candy when people weren’t looking. He even decided a plan for Shaun to steal from the other children while he stole from the adults..but, alas, his plans were foiled by you. Either way, he’d still go with Shaun to each and every door- shooting a glare to whomsoever didn’t give his boy an extra handful of candy. Afterwards, he’d take Shaun back out when you weren’t paying attention and throw eggs at the houses that didn’t give good candy.

Hancock:

“Dontcha fret bud, I can personally guarantee you that you’ll get all the candy your heart desires.”

Look, Goodneighbor wasn’t exactly a child friendly area but Hancock sure as hell would make sure that everyone got their shit together for this night. He’d even supply all the candy to each house, paying off any of his lovely citizens that might’ve not been willing at first...and then outright threading to shoot them if they still think it’s too “immature” or that he’s “getting soft.” Regardless, Shaun and you will be none the wiser and you’ll enjoy the festivities like a normal family.

Macready:

“Okay..uh, that one is Duncan...wait no, that’s definitely Shaun. Darn, maybe matching masks wasn’t a good idea.”

Luckily he wasn’t a stranger to dressing up an overly enthusiastic child for the night of Halloween. However..he was completely clueless when it came to doing it with two of them. For some reason you both thought it would be cute to dress the boys up in matching costumes..but the illusion of “cuteness” quickly ended when they both started to pull pranks on you and Mac, claiming to be the other one.

It was an eventful night to say the least.

Maxson:

“Are you sure he’s going to be safe? Oh, hey Shaun, you uh..that costume is superb. Have fun but please, stay close to me and mama/dad.”

He was so very anxious about letting Shaun leave the protection of the Prydwen. So much so that he deemed it necessary to have himself, you and a well trusted knight to follow Shaun around as he went door to door for treats. On one hand Maxson still remembered how much it sucked not being able to celebrate as a child, but on the other..he would die if something happened to his son. With that being said, as soon as Shaun is satisfied with his haul and is ready to go back home to the airship, Maxson will pull out a copy of an “ancient” book with all sorts of Halloween themed ghouls and creatures described within. Probably wasn’t the best idea, but Shaun seemed to like it.

Nick:

“Don’t you just look spiffy? Okay, as soon as we get back we can carve the melon.”

Having pre-war memories was a blessing in this case. Thanks to his knowledge, he was able to provide Shaun, his adoptive son, with the closest thing to a traditional Halloween that the wasteland would allow. He’d even decorate your little home in handmade paper bats and all that kind of stuff. When it comes down to trick r’ treating, Nick makes the perfect chaperone.

Old Longfellow:

“Don’t know how willing these folks will be giving out candy but..I’m sure I can find a way to inspire some generosity.”

True to his word, he used some..eh..”unique” methods to persuade the rugged islanders to play along. After all, there were some other children who desperately needed to focus on something aside from the impending danger of the fog. So, next thing you know your little plan to trick r’ treat ends up inspiring the whole town to delve into the festivities.

Piper:

“Aww, you two look so cute! Alright, remember only stay with us or the group!”

Perks of basically already being a mom to her little sister. She had Nat’s and Shaun’s costumes ready weeks in advance and already planned out a proper trick r’ treat with the other kids of Diamond City to participate. No worries, she’d be the cool kind of parents that lets their kids go with their buddies for Halloween....but she’ll also follow nearby. Just for reassurance.

Preston:

“Wow kiddo, that costume is terrifying! Hehe, come on, get your mom/dad..”

Like always, Preston is an absolute sweetheart. As soon as you made it clear how much this Halloween stuff meant to you, he made it his personal mission to make it special for you and his new adoptive son. After the trick r’ treating was done, he’d even build a little campfire and tell scary stories for shaun’s entertainment.

Sturges:

“Alrighty sport, I think you’re ready. Let’s go get your mama/dada and we’ll be on our way to getting us some candy!”

He hadn’t ever had a kid of his own to celebrate but back in Quincy..he had seen a couple carry on the tradition so he wasn’t completely clueless. He was actually just as excited as you were, even helping with making the costume and everything. You betcha your ass he dressed up as well, after all..his overalls closely resemble the outfit a bunch of the old pre-war horror movie characters you described.

X6-88:

“Shaun remember, the more we frighten them, the more candy they’ll give.”

He has a very loose understanding on what halloween is supposed to be. However he will never disappoint when it comes to making you and Shaun happy..so he’ll brush up on what makes sense...resulting in him dressing himself and Shaun in macabre costumes. A couple innocent candy givers may have passed out at the grotesque sight.

[itsnsfwalways]

Canyon Moon

A/N: WELCOME TO THE CANYON MOON FIC ! The chapters have to be split up and cut a lot shorter bc of sizing limits but I’m hoping you guys will still like it.

FIC MASTERLIST

WARNINGS FOR CHP. 1: swearing, mild drug use (weed)

CHAPTER ONE: the world’s happy waiting

The ocean has always been a calming place for you. Any body of water, really. The lapping of thewaves, the smell of salt, the course feeling of sand between your toes. It felt like home. So when you moved to Malibu, you found yourself lying on the beach until 4 am most nights, sometimes sleeping, but more often than not listening to music and writing.

Working as a songwriter for mostly just your friends, or as a fill in whenever someone wasn’t there, you were constantly writing. It was a lot easier to get deeper that way for you, not having to worry about sharing your secrets, and being able to mask it in other people’s voices. That being said, you had journals upon journals of your own songs. They were just for you, and occasionally your best friends, but it was something you were really proud of. After writing for the past 6 years, you’d like to think they were pretty good.

You’d gotten to your little spot around an hour ago, parking your pride and joy, an orange and yellow remodeled VW bus, which also functioned as your room most nights when you wanted to be out here, next to the sand.

The vibrant sunset had since dulled into a deep purple color, but it was still fairly light out. A small bonfire was lit in front of your blanket, keeping you a little extra warm even though it was still 70°.

Strumming your guitar, you moved away from the rock you were leaning against, a car’s headlights snapping you out of the haze you always got when you were out here. And also those two joints you had smoked already.

You raise your eyebrows at the fucking bright yellow Ferrari, hoping they were just stopping for a second.

Your prayers were ignored as a guy stepped out, a hoodie pulled over his head.

Shrugging your shoulders, you continue to play mindlessly, making up different melodies before creating a new one on top it.

Mr. Ferrari starts making his way over to you, which sends a flutter through your chest.

“Hey, just so you know, if you’re going to kill me, I’ve always wanted to die listening to Landslide by Fleetwood Mac,” you yell, grabbing your phone from your bag just in case.

The guy stops for a second and lets out a laugh.

“Definitely not trying to kill you,” he chuckles, and, oh, he’s British.

He comes closer and you come face to face with one of the prettiest people you’ve ever seen. Wearing a black hoodie with the words “Treat People With Kindness” embroidered on it, that’s cute, a pair of grey slacks, which you wouldn’t necessarily think of for beach attire, but he makes up for it by completing the look with no shoes.

“Do y’have a lighter I could borrow? Damn thing ran out and the gas station is just far away enough for it to be annoying.”

You laugh at that and nod, tossing him a random one from your bag.

“I feel that. I’m Y/N. Where you from?” You bluntly ask, because hey, he’s cute.

“Manchester, originally. Live near here now. You mind?” He asks, and you nod, scooting over to let him sit.

You’re hit with the smell of vanilla, leather, and just rich as he plops himself down, leaning against a rock a few feet away from you.

He points to your guitar, lips curled around the joint for a second before he inhales and asks,

“How long you been playing? Liked what you were doing earlier.”

You blush at this, barely remembering what you were doing.

“I have no fuckin clue. 14 years? Got my first guitar at 8 and fell in love.” You over exaggerated hugging your guitar, getting another laugh out of him, before you spit out,

“Oh, and thank you! I don’t really remember what I was doing to be honest. Just get in the zone sometimes. Do you play?”

He looks surprised at this, looking at you closely for a second.

“Uh, yeah, little bit. Been trying to learn more recently and kind of get my skills up.”

“Good for you! If you ever wanna play together, I’m literally always here. You sharing?” You smile, looking at his face in the orange light. His cheekbones are illuminated perfectly and you feel your throat go dry.

He nods and hands it to you, watching as you press the filter to your lips.

“What did you say your name was again?” You rack your brain and cannot remember him introducing himself.

“Didn’t. Harry, sorry that was a bit rude,” He mumbles, and you look at him funny.

“Are you like an FBI agent, Harry? Why so secret? And harassing young girls on the beach at night? With a fucking Ferrari? Come on, man, what’s your secret?” You tease, bumping your elbow into his side.

He laughs, shoving you with his shoulder lightly.

“Only harassing that’s going on is you interrogating me. But if I’m making you uncomfortable, I’ll leave right now. I should probably go, actually.” He rants, suddenly moving to get up. You turn your body quickly and lay your legs in his lap so he can’t move.

“You’re dumb. Secret, please?” You smile, blinking up at him.

He scoffs, shaking his head with a small smile, and pauses to run a hand through his hair. He takes a deep breath in before saying,

“I’m a musician, so that’s where the car and secret beach trips come in. I’m actually just starting to write for my next album, and I’m hitting a rut.”

“Oh shit, that’s what’s up! You’ll have to show me your stuff sometime. Sorry that I don’t know you, I’ve been living on the road for awhile so I listen to a lot of oldies. Plus, with hippie parents you don’t hear a lot of new music,” You explain, gesturing to your van.

He looks at you for a second before shaking his head, smiling to himself.

“What?” You grin, shoving his knee with your foot.

“You’re something else, s’all.”

“So I’ve been told.” A giggle falls from your lips as you lay down on the blanket, legs still in his lap, guitar now discarded to the side.

Looking up at the stars starting to form, you feel his gaze on you. Trying to figure out who this chick was, what stories she had, what witty remark was just past her lips.

“Question.” You say, propping your head up. Your hand finds it’s way on the back of your skull and you feel the blanket shift slightly underneath your elbow.

“Answer,” He responds with the same tone, tapping your knees with his fingertips.

“Would you wanna come with me so I can get a tattoo?”

He stops for a second and stares at you.

“Like, right now? You got an appointment?”

You grin and move off of him, ruffling his hair.

“Even better. I got cool friends.”

He takes his time packing up all your stuff, being as cautious enough to remind you not to cover the fire with sand in case someone stepped on it.

“This is my beach, Ferrari. No one comes here. Except handsome British guys, apparently.”

He looks up from the ground, where he’s stuffing your towel into your bag, and throws you a smirk.

“Thanks, baby. You’re gorgeous as well,”

“Blegh. Let me come introduce you to Sunflower,” you fake shudder at the pet name and he grins, pinching your side so he can laugh at your little jump.

You lead him over to your van, opening up the side door to show off your renovated home.

The entire thing was orange with white trim, big yellow sunflowers painted on the sides. The ceiling inside was painted a dark blue, the walls painted yellow.

A meditation rug was lying on the floor, a light brown wood flooring that matched the cabinets attached to the ceiling.

Your bed was all the way in the back, a simple white comforter on it. A mirror hung next to it, attached to the bathroom door. There was a small kitchen counter complete with a sink and a stovetop next to it. A small table folded out behind the drivers seat where a lounge area was located, orange cushions and fairy lights decorating the little couch.

All in all, it was a tiny fucking house in a car and you treated it like your baby.

“This is fucking sick,” he says, looking at the different artwork, posters, and decorations hanging all over the walls and cabinets.

“Thanks! Did it myself. Spent all summer working on it a few years back, I’m damn proud of it.”

There’s a pause for a second, trying to figure out how to best work this out.

“I’m cool to just leave my car here if you’re down to drive me. We’re going to one of my guy friends’ studio about thirty minutes from here,” you suggest, having a feeling Harry wouldn’t be down to leave his car here, no matter how secluded it was.

“Uh, okay. Should I be worried? Who knows what scoundrels you hang out with?” He teases, watching you go into the van to grab some things.

You glance back at him, laughing, before your breath catches in your throat. He’s since removed his hoodie and is left in a white tank top with small black print on the rib cage. Making a mental note to figure out what it says later, your eyes can’t help but drift to his arms. Illuminated in the car light, his biceps bulge as he rests his hands on the roof, leaning forward slightly into the car.

His tongue traces along his teeth, landing itself in his cheek as he watches you check him out.

“See something you like?” He asks, raising his eyebrows like he’s genuinely curious.

Your eyes flick back to his smirking face and you blink for a second, before responding with,

“Yeah, was trying to figure out what asshole uses a word like ‘scoundrel’ in 2018, what the fuck, Harry?”

He barks out a laugh and brings his fist up to his mouth to cover it, the other one coming down to hold his stomach.

“When you are done appreciating my humor, I need to change real quick. Spin around, please,” You come up from your squat and pull off your sweatshirt, not waiting for him to do that.

“Jesus, Y/N,” He exhales, spinning around and looking up at the sky.

“What? I gave you a warning,” you giggle, sliding your sweatpants down to slip into a pair of black volleyball shorts.

“By about half a second!” Harry exclaims. “You’re killing me.”

“Sorry, superstar, nobody is exempt from special treatment here.” You roll your eyes at yourself, what the fuck are you even saying.

“Mkay, you’re good.”

Harry spins around, eyes taking in your new outfit.

On top of your shorts was a giant Stevie Nicks shirt, one from her White Winged Dove tour.

“Shit, you might be a bigger Stevie fan than I am, and that’s saying a lot.”

“Fuck, you have no idea. My dad went to the fucking final show of this tour and met my mom in the crowd during Dreams. My mom made him play it when I was born because she swore Stevie brought me to them.”

You catch him staring at you and turn your head away, cheeks burning because you’re rambling and need to shut the fuck up.

He clears his throat and takes a breath before starting.

“Promise not to kill me when I tell you this?”

Holding your hand to your burning cheeks, you murmur,

“No.”

“Y/N!” Harry exclaims, finally coming in the van to tickle you.

“Okay, okay, I promise not to kill you,” You mock, waving your hands around.

“I was lucky enough to sing one of my songs with her along with Landslide and Leather and Lace.”

You drop your bag onto the ground as your jaw drops.

“Shut up. I don’t believe you.” You cross your arms over chest. “I don’t know if I’d be angrier if you’re lying or if it actually happened. Holy shit am I jealous.”

“Oh, I was crying onstage, losing my shit. She is, everything. Dreams was the first song I learned the words to, yknow? She truly is a magical being.”

“God. I’m definitely looking you up later because who the fuck sings one of THEIR songs with Stevie Nicks.” You sigh, leaning over to grab your bag and Doc Martens.

“Oh god.” Harry laughs, running a hand through his hair again, looking at you really intensely for a second.

“Not to sound like a dick, but do you really not know who I am?”

“I mean if you need your ego boosted I can lie?” You offer, before dropping the witty responses.

“But no, sorry. Like I said, I just.... don’t really listen to new music, and if I do it’s always my friends or some indie shit with an overused beat.” Harry laughs at that and you smile, yes, he’s not weirded out.

“Don’t apologize, please. I just, can’t be too sure, yknow? People like to use you, especially here. And you’re just a little too perfect to be true,” he sighs, pulling you closer to him by your waist.

Placing you hands on his chest, you look at him for a second before leaning forward and whisper in his ear,

“My tattoo awaits me, baby. Let’s go.”

He groans and leans his head on your shoulder, before letting you go and grabbing your bag for you.

Such a gentleman, you think to yourself, locking up Sunflower.

“Does your car have a cool name?” You ask, after buckling you, fingertips appreciating the rich black leather seat.

“Nope, but I’m good at nicknames. I’m gonna take a wild guess and say normal terms of endearment aren’t your thing?” He asks, making eye contact with you for a quick second as he puts his arm behind your seat before stretching slightly to look behind him as he pulls puts the car in reverse.

Looking up for a quick second, you remind yourself to breathe.

“You would be correct. Gotta use your brain if you wanna get me all jittery,” you tease, fanning yourself over exaggeratedly.

He gives you a side eye and smirks at you, popping a piece of gum in his mouth and raising his eyebrows, as if to say, game on.

“So where am I going?” He asks, starting to drive away from your special spot.

“Let us ask the oracle!” You hold out your phone like a trophy, before laughing to yourself and bringing up Google Maps.

Propping your phone up in the cupholder, you sit cross legged in just your socks in his seat, fidgeting with your hands for a second.

“I’m kind of intrigued on who you are now. What’s your story?” You ask, turning your head to look at him.

Harry glances over at you, eyes drifting to your bare legs for a second.

“Well, the short version, I guess, is I grew up in a little town in England with my mum and my sister, applied to X-Factor when I was 16, got put into a band called One Direction with four other lads, released couple albums with them until end of 2015. Then did a movie called Dunkirk, wrote and released my first solo album, and toured it. Just got back from tour about a month ago, actually.”

You look at him blankly for a second, and he shifts in his seat, removing one of his hands from the wheel to place it on the armrest.

“Holy SHIT am I unaccomplished,” you exclaim, hitting him in the chest.

“Hey!” he yells, but you cut him off.

“How many fucking albums is a couple? And how old are you, my god. That is impressive.”

“I’m 24, that probably should’ve been said before we’re alone in a car together. And 5 albums, in 5 years. Nearly killed us.”

“I’m 22. Damn, dude, that’s insane. It sounds like they horribly overworked you and I am hoping you were generously compensated and had a bit of musical freedom. I know how the music industry can be with boy bands.”

He nods for a second, licking his lips slightly, trying to figure out how to phrase his response.

“I’m not going to lie, there are some definite perks and I am so incredibly lucky to just be able to do what I love as my job.” His fingers find their way to his bottom lip, pinching it slightly. “It was fun, I mean, you throw a bunch of teenagers together and give them celebrity status? We were insane, and I enjoyed it. But.... it felt like I wasn’t a person anymore. I was just ‘Harry Styles from the boyband One Direction’.”

“I don’t necessarily understand but I think the fact that you came out this respectful and real says something. You seem to have your shit properly together, and, even if you don’t, you got back from tour two months ago! You deserve some relaxation. The world’s happy to wait for you to find yourself a little.”

Pausing for a second, you place your hand on his arm, squeezing it lightly before swearing,

“I hope you know I’m being genuine about not knowing you and latching on for fame. I’ll let your parents know my intentions with their son are all very pure.”

He laughs at that, glancing at you again,

“I appreciate you saying that. This life is wonderful, like I said, but it’s very stressful and puts pressure on every relationship. There’s always going to be stories or photos and rumors spread like wildfire.”

You shift in your seat, understanding that this was a very serious issue for him.

“Listen, I’ll let you know up front that that doesn’t bother me. I’ve dated musicians and know the life, I get it. I think you’re cool and that we could have a fun time experiencing real life together. But before we do that, you need to have fun and let everything the fuck GO. I’ll promise you right now, if you let me stick around, you’ll experience what life is. No fame or pining for success bullshit, no offense, but there’s no need for it. If you’re happy doing what you’re doing, no one can tell you you’re not successful.” Harry stops the car at a red light and fully turns to look at you.

He exhales harshly before grinning. “You are a breath of fresh fucking air, Y/N. I think you’re going to change my life, if I’m being honest here.”

“Here’s hoping,” you grin.

A/N: THE OFFICIAL FIRST CHAPTER IS UP !!! I’m hoping you guys will come to love this fic as much as I do. I’ll try to find a writing schedule that works with you guys and my work schedule, so sorry if chapters take a little bit to come up. This is going to be a looooong fic, so buckle up, turn that old lover’s hippie music on, and enjoy !!

- lana <3

[alwaysthinkingoutloud]

Hannibal Episode-by-Episode Meta/Analysis: Episode 2, Season 1 (Amuse-Bouche)

Episode starts with Will dreaming about practice-shooting in a range, a place where he is actually allowed to shoot guilt-free. Where shooting is justified, just like the field. He seems to miss his shots though, resulting in shooting again and again. Just like he shot Garret Jacob Hobbs again and again, but was it because he missed his shot then too? It looks like he is trying to convince himself so, since the shooting target turns into Hobbs in the dream. And if he truly felt bad about shooting Hobbs and regrets doing so, why keep shooting him repeatedly even after hitting him in the dream too? Since he goes to the shooting range after the dream for real too, all of this has little to do with his being traumatized and a lot to do with him missing that feeling.

When in the Hobbs’ cabin, the first thing that comes out of Will’s mouth after seeing tens of antlers all over the room is a comment about how well this would fit in Evil Minds Research Museum. Despite being sarcastic, seeing a crime scene where teenage girls have been mounted on antlers and swiftly thinking that kind of thing to say may suggest that he deep down considers it as a precious and beautiful piece of art that belongs in a museum. Short after, we hear about the possibility that Abigail might be a suspect. For the first time, Will rules out that possibility and defends her blindly.

As soon as Will enters the classroom to give a lecture, the students start applauding. First, he says “thank you” and right after that, “stop that”. He does not know how to react but I do not think that’s because he does not know how he feels about it. It is normal to be applauded for saving someone’s life. So why to accept the compliment and then feel not comfortable about it? Maybe it is because, his initial thought was that the applause was not for saving a life but for taking one. And he gave in quickly and said thank you. Then he noticed this was not appropriate at all so he decided to tell them to stop.

When Alana and Jack comes to talk to Will, he states that he found the students’ applause for his ‘success’ inappropriate. Although he saved the life of Hobbs girl and many that could follow, he does not deem killing someone a success under any circumstances. Later in the conversation, we also learn that Will used to work homicide and the reason why he no longer does is that he was never comfortable pulling the trigger. No law enforcement agent is ever comfortable with it though, killing is killing. But sometimes the end justifies the means. So maybe he could never pull the trigger because he knew that if he did, it would lead him in a path that he could not come back from for many different reasons other than a normal person would have. But that is in the past now, he did pull the trigger. So for stabilizing this change, he is unknowingly pushed into the den of the lion: Hannibal’s couch.

The first thing Hannibal does is to rule out the formalities and responsibilities that having Will officially as a patient would bring along. He rubber stamps Will to keep his days full of crime scenes, ensuring the trigger for his instability as well as his requirement to come and see Hannibal. He wants to play Will’s friend more than he wants to play his therapist. So he does that by alienating Jack and making use of their now common denominator, Abigail. He uses the phrase “surrogate daughter”, reinstating the thought of Will’s responsibility of Abigail. A responsibility that may weigh as heavy as a father’s. By telling Will how he feels obligated against the girl, Hannibal hopes his declared feelings about Abigail to awaken the ones in Will. While doing that, Hannibal is not exactly trying to paint a spotless, pretty picture. He is combining what he wants Will to think and what Will wants to hear. While talking about feeling responsible for the girl, Will suddenly brings out the fact that Jack has doubts about the girl’s involvement in her dad’s crimes.  Hannibal not wanting Will to embrace Abigail only under the assumption of her total innocence, he is telling Will that he does feel responsible for Abigail and that it is also possible that she took part in her dad’s murders, implying he can be protective of Abigail and not be so sure about her involvement in the crimes at the same time. Almost to suggest that regardless of Abigail’s innocence or otherwise, she deserves to be protected. To be cared for. To be loved. If Will can protect and embrace a killer now, why could not he do the same again for somebody else?

“The mirrors in your mind can reflect the best of yourself, not the worst of someone else.” 

I listened to, read and repeated this quote of Hannibal tens of times until it lost all its meaning. What I think he is saying is that empathizing is about the empathetic as much as it is about the person being empathized. That, Will’s mind’s reflections of someone else’s cannot be truly detached from his own. That, Will’s own not-that-bad mind’s mental limits make it not possible to comprehend the worst of someone else to his limits. Because his identity is restrictive about what it is not familiar or comfortable with. But whatever he empathizes, it will be the best version there is for him. Because that will be within his mind’s limits and not restricted by anyone else’s.

Hannibal, in a conversation, suggests that Hobbs is Will’s victim. The use of the word ‘victim’ here is so deliberate since it brings a sense of guilt together, a sense of wrongdoing, an ill-intent. If there is a victim, there is a question of the justness of the act. But to kill a serial killer attempting to murder someone is not that kind of an act. There is no need of questioning the motive because it is so out there and it is okay. But Hannibal needs Will to question. He wants Will to think there may be an another reason or angle to what happened. Then he drops the bomb by asking Will if putting himself in the killers’ shoes and imagining their thrill is now harder, since he is now a way too familiar to the feeling and has very little space to estrange himself from it?

During the dinner of Jack and Hannibal, we learn that Jack is doubting the purity of Will’s mind. Hannibal, in return, calls the way Jack treats Will “delicate” while he is well-aware that it is not, encouraging it with an understatement. He does that while asking Jack if his doubts are about Will’s trustworthiness or the risk of Will breaking in the field, also insinuating that he finds Jack’s doubts unnecessary, but any answer Jack may give to that would promote either distrust against Will or would give Jack the idea that there is still more room to push Will.

Alana and Will meet each other in the hospital room of Abigail. Will suggests that Alana may be reading to a killer, while he is sleeping on the couch and practically in the same position as her. So if he is accepting the possibility but still is here, he may be submitting to that possibility too. Will is obviously trying to flirt with Alana and she kind of reciprocates it with trying to comfort him. She tells him that Abigail is a success for him. He replies saying that she does not look like a success. That, he does not feel sorry but good. He does not feel good because he saved her life, if that was the case he would call it a success. So there must be another reason to why he feels good. And the torment he goes through is of feeling good, not of feeling sorry. Good about a surrogate daughter who he orphaned in the first place and maybe good about killing her father too.

In the last scene of the episode, we see Hannibal playing his card open for the first time. He starts off by justifying feeling good about killing if the person being killed is bad enough. Will differentiating between good and just, Hannibal draws Will’s attention to that his coming to therapy is an attempt to convince himself that he feels good about only saving Abigail and not killing her father as well. Will objects saying if this was true, he would feel the same way about shooting Stammets too. Hannibal reminds him that he did not kill Stammets, so he cannot compare. Then, Will spills out that he is not even sure if he was not trying to shoot Stammets to kill. Hannibal pealing his person mask a little off, tells Will even if he wanted to kill Stammets, that would be understandable since he would do it anticipating the killer’s capabilities, boldly calling it “beautiful” even. Hearing his darkest fantasies he did not even admit to himself spoken out loud, almost with vanity, Will freaks out a little and changes the topic. However, Hannibal does not let him out that easy, not when he got Will right where he wanted him. He speaks clearly now, asks him if the reason he has been feeling down is that he killed a man, or that he killed a man and liked it. Finally, Will breaks and admits to feeling good about killing Garret Jacob Hobbs. Hannibal, then, swifts in with the simplest yet greatest justification of killing: that God does it all the time. That it is not about feeling good but about feeling powerful.

It is thought-provoking to consider how early in the series Hannibal actually reveals his tainted mind to Will, but it takes him a whole season and a too high of a number of obvious moves to see Hannibal’s real face that, it makes one wonder if he actually did see Hannibal’s face around this time, but his subconscious longing to be understood chose to sweep it all under the rug.

[jazminetoad]

In My Reality | Prologue

Hey, I was bored so I decided to start a fanfic series of the Tatsumi Brothers from Juuni Taisen. Yay

It’s a “Tatsumi Brother x Reader” story about how the Tatsumi Brothers enter the reader’s reality which kinda flips her world upside down.

So I just finished the prologue. If you guys like it or if I’m bored again, I’ll make the first chapter. (Click “Keep Reading” to read the story)

"[Name] get out of bed; It's 3 in the afternoon," my mom told me as she came into my room with fresh, clean clothes. I didn't have to look over to know.

Groaning, I removed my mask from my eyes then rolled over to face up at the white ceiling. The sunlight seeping in from the blinds caused my sight to cringe before it finally adjected to the light and I could see the grey walls lurking in the corner of my eyes. Arising from my queen-sized bed a yawn escaped from my mouth. My form reached over and placed my sleep mask on the nightstand, next to my water mug.

"Morning mom," I greeted her as she sorted out the pile of clothes on my dresser. Looks like she did a colour load, which means no pants to put away.

"Morning sweetheart. Can you put your clothes away before you come downstairs?"

"Sure," I simply answered as I slipped out of the cozy sheets I once was tangled in.

"Thank you. I'll see you when you come down," she stated, placing the last of my t-shirts neatly on the others. Afterwards, she wrapped her arms around the remaining clean, clothes that weren't mine, carefully balancing them as she left my room and closed the door behind.

The click of the doorknob echoed into my ears when my feet landed on the fuzzy rug. My eyes drifted their gaze to the plain black bodypillow wrapped in [f/c] blankets, reminding me of a burrito. It just had the colour for the case, no special Anime character on it. I wish there were one though; it'd make the nights seem less lonely to see my favourite character's face on it. However, a pillow is a pillow. Despite me using it as an illusion for myself it doesn't change the reality that when I hug it in my sleep or when I'm awake no arms will return my embrace.

A sigh falls out of my breath, my eyelids dropping in sync. I turned my head away from the lying pillow and dragged myself to the other side of my bed, towards the dresser that patiently held the clean clothes my mom put there. I opened a drawer, putting my undergarments away first then my socks. Once those were put away, I moved to retrieve hangers from my closet, passing by my desk and shelves as I did.

If you were wondering why I slept so late into the afternoon, well, it's currently winter break, so that means I can stay up late and sleep in late past noon. Sadly enough, it's January which means the break almost over, and that means school is standing around the corner, menacingly. Just the thought of it disturbs my mind as that reality tries to infect my thoughts.

I hate reality. I know not all of it is shit, but there's enough of it that makes me want to drown myself in the world of fiction. Whenever it's the weekend or breaks from school, I binge Anime, tv shows, YouTube, and movies, so that's the only thing on my mind. I then write or read fanfiction, there is the rare occasion I sketch something but I'm not good at art since I don't practice enough. By the time I return to reality after having my head stuck in my imagination for so long, I can barely focus without going back to daydreaming. Eventually, that wears off, and then reality is what floods my brain; I despise it but I know I can't be stuck in my fantasies forever. Luckily my friends provide that nice spot in-between for me, helping me stay in the real world but also let me discuss the fictional. Then there's also my bro.

"Yo sis," my brother's voice called from the other side of the door after his fist knocked on it. "You wanna continue Code Geass?"

My bro is the best. Unlike most siblings I know, we actually get along. He's also a big help in my life, one of the reasons why I haven't lost my mind. He makes sure I don't overwork & stress myself and reminds me to have fun and chillax. I love him for it, and he's practically my best friend. We aren't the exact same age but we were born in the same year, just a few months apart so we get to be in the same grade. He's the older one. He's also taller which means he can t-pose over me, and we reenact the meme; it's great.

"Yeah," I answered. "Just let me get ready."

"Alright," he replied before I felt the vibration of his footsteps grow distant from my room.

'Heh, if I had Takeyasu's ability, I'd be able to sense his movement better.'

I chuckle to myself at the thought floating in my mind as I put the final shirt away. My two favourite characters that I desired to be real was the Tatsumi Brothers, Nagayuki and Takeyasu. I love those two. Whenever I watched their episodes from Juuni Taisen, I always smile. They make my heart feel something that I never felt for any character before. I don't want to be cliche and say true love, but to me, that's what it feels like. I know they're fictional characters, so I won't get much out of it, but strangely enough, I'm okay with that. I can't imagine my heart belonging to anyone else. I do wish they were real, though. I even used my wish on the bracelet my friend, Meri-chan, got for my birthday one year, that they'd become real.

The bracelet was some urban legend. It was lime green and had a few beads on it. The legend goes that you make a wish and when the bracelet breaks, your wish has come true. 'Course, it's most likely a bunch of baloney but that didn't stop me from wishing that the Tatsumi Brothers would become real. I currently just wear the bracelet as an accessory since the wish probably won't happen, it's not like the thing is going to break anytime soon.

Grabbing my towel, my other hand opened my door. I slipped down the hallway and slid into the bathroom, my foot pushing the door closed as I put the towel on the towel rack. Hopefully, I don't take too long because we were left on edge on the last episode of Code Geass we watched. Well, I'll finish sooner than my wish coming true that's for sure, heh.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Okay bro but if you think about it, Lelouch-"

"[Name], I washed your school uniforms. Can you put them away while I start on tacos?" Mom requested from the kitchen, interrupting the Anime, my commentary, and reminding me that school is coming soon. "You too, [b/n]."

"Yes, mom," we both respond.

My brother picked up the remote and hit the pause button so we wouldn't miss anything. I pulled myself up from the plush couch, disappointment growing on me since I had hoped not to be interrupted until dinner was ready. Well, I guess I could let the disappointment wither away since it's Taco Tuesday, my favourite. I chuckled to myself as my feet reached the next level above the main floor and headed down the open hallway to my room.

My laughter died out upon seeing my seven school uniforms, five that were the regular female uniform and two that were gym uniforms. Unlike most students, I didn't like the idea of having to wash my uniform every day, so to make things simpler, I paid for six more with my own money. It was a bit irritating, using the money I earned from my summer job for this instead of getting something else. Still, my practical choice, so I didn't necessarily have to worry about my mom washing my uniform every night.

"Hhhhhh, why does school have to come back so soon?" I asked myself as I picked up one of the uniforms.

The uniform wasn't too special, a simple white blouse, a blue skirt, a blue jacket, and a blue & black striped tie. Students could decide if we wanted to wear tights, leggings, or shorts underneath the skirt as long as it was black or white. I wore leggings unless it was summer which I then wear shorts and knee-high socks. There are those girls that only wear thigh-high socks and panties under their skirt to which my nerd brain questions why. 'Course that's their choice, have fun with your ass cold.

A Discord ringtone made me resurface from my pond of inner thoughts. Becoming aware of my surroundings, I realized my friends Meri-chan and Kamida were calling on the Discord group chat we had. I could tell by the laptop I had open on my desk. I quickly put the uniform I had in hand on the rack with the others before sliding over and clicking the answer button that popped up.

"Yo, what's up nerds."

"Hey I'm not a nerd," Meri-chan protested. "I'm a cool kid."

"Meri-chan, we're all nerds here," Kamida stated before greeting me. "Hey [n/n], how you doing?"

"Eh, good I suppose but I could be doing better, Kami," I answered simply. "How's life?"

"Pretty chill but I got bored, so I decided to call you guys."

"Well, I'm just putting my uniforms away," I informed them and went to put the last uniform away.

"I sometimes forget that you have more than one," Meri-chan commented before I heard her gasp. "Hey, how 'bout we hang out tomorrow, we only have so many days before we have to go back to school."

"Oh, don't remind me," I groaned, hanging my head, then went back to putting the uniform on the hanger and walking over to the closet, hanging it up with the rest.

"That doesn't sound like a bad idea Meri-chan, we could hang out tomorrow," Kamida suggested.

"I'm down," Meri-chan quickly responded.

"Welllllll..." I hesitated, sitting down in the [f/c] spinning chair in front of the desk.

"[Name]."

"You see, I kinda want to stay inside my last few days..."

"[n/nnnnn]!" Meri-chan whined.

"Come on [Name], you know you can't stay cooped up inside forever," Kamida reminded me.

"I know," I grumbled, leaning back in my seat. "Fine, I'll come out tomorrow, but it's going to be after 2."

"2 am, geez [n/n] I didn't know you'd be willing to come out that early," Kamida joked.

"I meant 2 pm," I corrected.

"Okay," he chuckled as Meri-chan pipped in.

"But if you're late again, you're buying lunch this time."

"Okay, bet, but what if I'm not?" I inquired, my fingers tapping on my desk.

"Mmmmmmm," she hummed, seemingly to be thinking.

"It's fine I'll pay for lunch tomorrow."

"Alright, but don't use it as an excuse to be late."

"I won't," I reassured her. "Anyway, I'm gonna go watch a few more episodes of Code Geass with my bro-"

"You still need to watch Dragon Ball Z," Kamida interrupted.

"And you need to watch Juuni Taisen," I countered, emphasizing the "you".

"Yeah, yeah," he brushed it off. "Anyway, go have fun with your bro. We'll call again later on tonight."

"Alright, bye guys." I left the call and closed out of discord then proceeded to shut my laptop.

Kamida and Meri-chan were my two friends from school; we've known each other since childhood. 'Course Meri-chan isn't Meri-chan's real name, that's just a nickname Kamida and I gave her. Occasionally, they called me [n/n]-chan but not too often. Then there are times where we call Kamida, Kami-kun, but mainly Meri-chan does it out of spite since Kamida doesn't like it. Especially when Meri-chan does it in her kawaii voice. Those two are the only ones outside of family that have the same vibe I do, that's probably why we've been friends for so long.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Hey, you guys ever wish fictional characters could become real?" I randomly asked out of the blue, staring up at the white ceiling as I waited for my friends over the call to answer my question.

"All the time," Meri-chan answered.

"We know simp," Kamida smugly commented.

"Nuuu!" Meri-chan pouted while Kamida and I laughed. "Hey, if anything [n/n] is the simp over here, she's the one actual crushing on the characters."

"Hey don't call me out like that."

"Ha! She doesn't deny it," Kamida jeered.

"Okay, what about you and Android 21?"

"Ack-" Kamida blurted before muting himself, causing me and Meri-chan to giggle. A few seconds pass by before he unmuted himself. "Why are you asking this question [n/n]?"

"No reason in particular-"

"Are you sure it's not you wanting to talk about Juuni Taisen?"

"No- it's not just that. I just think fictional characters would make reality interesting."

"Right..."

"Meri-chan if you could bring someone from Juuni Taisen to-"

"My boy Uuma! You should know this by now."

"Bruh-"

"Well, it's either that or Usagi, and I rather be alive thank you."

"Who's Uuma again?" Kamida inquired, not knowing who was who quite yet since he hasn't watched the Anime.

"Uuma is the warrior of the horse," I informed him.

"Right," Kamida mumbled before letting out a yawn.

"You sound tired, go to sleep!" Meri-chan told Kamida.

"No, you go to sleep."

"Guys, we're all on the same timezone. If one of us goes to sleep then we all do," I stated. "It makes sense since we're all planning on meeting up tomorrow."

"I guess we go to sleep," Meri-chan said bluntly.

"Yeah, alright, goodnight guys," Kamida yawned.

"Night."

"Night guys."

With that, we each left the call. I, however, didn't fall asleep right away. I woke up late and the night was still pretty early, so I opened up the Funimation app on my phone. Scrolling through the list of saved Anime, most of which were halfway through since my brother and I are watching them together, I came across Juuni Taisen.

"Why not..." I muttered to myself as my finger tapped on the Anime and went right to click on episode 7, In Like a Dragon, Out Like a Snake (Part 1).

By the time I finished episodes 7 and 8, it was 2 am when my eyes glanced at the clock in the top corner of my phone. Sighing to myself, I leaned over and snatched my charger off the nightstand, plugging it in the wall before connecting the other end to my phone. Turning off my phone, I placed it on the nightstand and snagged my sleep mask, putting that on my head.

As I laid there on my bed, silence flooded the room, not a sound to be heard but my own breathing. Vines of sorrow began to grow on me as the feeling of loneliness came over me. I tried to pull myself out of the emotion, turning over and wrapping my arms around the plain bodypillow in an attempt to comfort myself. In the end, it only helped slightly. It didn't erase the pain because I knew there were no arms that would hug me back. A tear escaped my eyes before I pulled my mask over them, and a final thought appeared in my mind before I entered the dream realm.

'I wish I wasn't alone...'

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=

"Congratulations, Tatsumi {Ani|Otouto}, warrior of the {dragon|snake}!" Duodecuple exclaimed. "You are the winner of the 12th Juuni Taisen, everyone give yourself a hand!" The man started to applaud but soon stopped. "The antidote has settled in by now. You'll be fine."

{"Tch|Alright"} the Tatsumi brother simply responded.

"Now that you've won the Juuni Taisen, you can make one wish of your choice. Would you like to make your wish now, or would you like for it to be granted later?"

"In all honesty, when I arrived at the Juuni Taisen I wished for {nothing|money}, I didn't need anything else really but now that {I'm here|I had time to think about} I don't want to wish for {nothing|money}."

"Oh, do you have another wish in mind?" Duodecuple inquired the Tatsumi brother sitting in front of him, alone.

"Yeah... I wish me and my brother were never apart of the Juuni Taisen."