#and maybe nobody will respond and this was just a letter out to the void

[youcalledmebabe]

pondering + seeking writing advice below

so. I wrote the webgott time loop. it was one of the most fun experiences I’ve ever had writing and I truly poured so much love and time and energy into it. it was one of those fics where the response almost didn’t matter because I adored it (and continue to! which I do not adore everything I’ve ever written lol) so much. I’ve always wanted to write a time loop and I was interested in exploring the aftermath of the mountain scene. how could they forgive each other after? how do you move forward? the popular characterization of that scene is that joe is the victim of a thoughtless web who couldn’t possibly understand what joe was going through. and I felt like there was more nuance there, especially considering it’s joe who keeps trying to talk to Web after. it’s joe who tries to get him to look back. and web won’t! my reading of the scene is that web is gone. they both saw someone else on that mountain and I don’t think either of them liked what they saw. but they might love each other anyway. so the fic was born.

and it’s gotten the most insane, rewarding reception of anything I’ve ever written. thoughtful comments, I’ve seen casual references to it on tumblr and Twitter, it’s my third most popular fic. authors who I love and admire and look up to have not only read it BUT commented on it. it’s all been so gratifying and I feel so lucky to have written something that struck a cord with people. write what you love is true I guess! but the issue now is that I feel I have peaked. lol. like maybe that was the best thing I was capable of writing, and now what? it’s all downhill from here? or is it freeing; I did it, I wrote something pretty good and will always have that to my name and now I can play around and write whatever because nobody can take that away from me. so I guess my question is: what do you do when you feel like you’ve reached the summit creatively? has anybody else ever felt like this before and how did you handle it? genuinely interested in other writers thoughts. lmk. and yes maybe you’re rolling your eyes and being like ‘wow she takes this wayyyy too seriously she isn’t even that good’ and maybe so! but I love to write. and just because it’s fic doesn’t mean it’s not art to me. so yes I take it too seriously ❤️

[simplydannie]

The siblings have done their time in prison… and now… they are released back from where they came… the under belly of Rageous. Life is different down here. More struggle, more loneliness… all they have is each other now. But their struggles follow them as they learn someone up top is still after them. And now the thug bosses of Under Rageous are all after them…But being poisoned by the Troll makes life a little harder.

Part 2 || Part 3

Security left them at the elevator. This was the only way to the underside of a Rageous… where the lower class… the nobodies lived. Those on top hardly batted an eye on what would happen down there. Each region had its own laws. Since Velvet and Veneer were originally from the under side of Rageous, well, they were being sent back… the laws there could deal with them.

…..DING…..

The elevator door slid open.

The siblings stood there in the silence. The sounds and lights of upper Rageous illuminated the darkened under Rageous cities… but it still wasn’t enough. They cautiously stepped out of the elevator… it closed behind them and went back up…. Here they were, back in square one.

All they were allowed to bring back down were a few belongings, and that was it. The siblings were completely de-glammed of their fame persona. Velvet still sported her high ponytail. Instead of her glittery outfits she settled for a red, oversized hoodie she wore over a skin tight black mini dress. Her heels were gone, instead she sported some black combat boots. On her wrist a pink crystal bracelet Veneer had gotten her years ago that the upper atmosphere of Rageous allowed her to keep.

The only one who seemed pleased to be out of his glimmer and glammed persona was her brother. Veneer still had his famous swooped up green hair. Like his sister, he also wore a red oversized hoodie and skinny wavy pants with black combat boots. He wore a purple beanie over his green hair… before their rise to fame, he’d always love to wear beanies… Velvet always hated it.

They stared into the dark silence of Under Rageous. Music and laughter could be heard far away. Velvet pulled up her hoodie and began walking in the direction they had instructed them too.

“Hey Vels wait!” Veneer called out as he grabbed his duffle bag running after her. She had ignored him all those months at the Mount Rageous Detention Center… she was still continuing to ignore him now.

“Vels….Velvet! Come on sis, how long are you going to keep ignoring me?” He called out as he followed close behind her. They walked into the main streets… still empty, voided of people.

“How about forever?….. Traitor.” She replied.

“That’s not fair! I had to do it.” He told her.

“No you didn’t you moron!” She pulled back her hoodie and turned round look him directly into his eyes. “We had everything Veneer! We were at the top!” She gestured to the lights above them…Mount Rageous. “Now we’re back where we started!”

“Just because we were on top doesn’t mean it was right. Didn’t you see yourself Vels? You were going mad! And our manger didn’t do anything to help us. She had us torture Floyd!” Veneers expression saddened… he missed the little Troll… unfortunately he never came to visit them… he never returned his letters. Veneer never blamed him, but he still felt hurt.

“And what now? We’re better off out here!” She exclaimed.

“No. But I have an idea. Maybe we could reach out to Floyd!” He said happily.

“You think he’ll have us back after what we did! What? You want to be a happy family gain?” She teased.

“… we could.” Veneer responded.

CLINK!

The sound of metal hitting the ground sounded in the distance…

“Maybe we should keep it down and just get home.” He said.

“Whatever.” She turned to keep walking.

THUD!

She walked straight into someone.

“My bad.” She said. Velvet looked to the see suspicious stranger she ran into. Pale skin, fawxhawk stringy black hair. When he smiled, he bared his sharp teeth… a popular cosmetic procedure done in Under Rageous… made them seem more menacing.

“Hey there gorgeous.” He hissed in a snake like voice. “Where you two headed?”

“Oh! We’re just going home- OOF!” Veneer began to speak until his sister elbowed him in the ribs.

“We’re just walking through. So excuse us…” Grabbing her duffle bag, she turned her brother around to walk the opposite direction. But in there way stood another Rageoun, same pale skin with dark pulled back green stringy hair. He wore some cyber type specks around his eyes….the two Rageoun thugs surrounded them. Veneer instinctively got in front of Velvet.

“Were they going to send us escorts?” Veneer turned to ask Velvet. She shook her head.

“We know who you two are. Heard who you were before your rise to fame, and now, well definitely somebody of high value now.” The sharp tooth Rageoun smiled.

“Didn’t you hear, we were frauds. Not really somebodies are we.” Velvet replied.

“Yeah well despite that, word is, someone up there is still interested in you two. They told my boss that they pay a really good price if we found you and brought you to them. Of course my boss says he’ll pay us double who ever found you. And what do you know, here you are.” He smiled a toothy grin.

The other thug grasped Veneer firmly by his arm, dragging him away from his sister. He struggled, trying to pull away. A dark vehicle was awaiting for them at the end of the street.

“Hey!” Velvet cried out as she reached for her brother. The sharped tooth Rageoun blocked her way.

“You can come peacefully or not. They didn’t care what condition we brought you in, so long as you were alive…. Kind of.” He laughed. He grabbed a Velvet by the arm pulling her along with him. Looking frantically about she grabbed the nearest thing that came in her grasp… a metal pipe.

SMACK!

She hit the thug behind the head. He cried in pain releasing her. Velvet quickly moved away. She ran towards the other thug who still held Veneer.

SMACK!

She hit the thug upside the head knocking him unconscious.

“You okay?” She asked as she helped up her brother.

“Well that’s a nice welcome isn’t it.” He said sarcastically.

“Let’s get our bags and AH-“ She was yanked by her ponytail and pulled backwards. Velvet smacked the light post hard, knocking the wind out of her, sending a pain down her back and head. Through blurred vision she could see her brother struggling with the sharp toothed thug. The thug was bigger, stronger… he had Veneer pinned to the ground. Velvet could see him pull something from the side of his boot…. A knife.

“I wonder how much that face will be worth if I marked it up a bit.” He said gliding the knife across Veneers face.

At that instant something overcame Velvet. Her eyes began to glow pink…. A sudden rush of anger…

“VENNIE!” Before she knew it was behind the thug.

SMACK!

She hit him.

SMACK.

She hit him again.

“DONT YOU EVER TOUCH HIM AGAIN!” She screamed as she kept beating the thug with the metal pipe.

“Vels!” Veneer screamed. But she couldn’t hear him… she was in a blind rage. “Vels! Please stop!… VELS IM OKAY!”

She stopped. Her breathing was heavy. As she calmed down, the pink around her eyes faded away… it was then she could see what she had done.

“…oh…my….god.” She murmured…. The thug lay there…beaten up… and motionless.

“Is he…Oh my gosh!” Veneer began breathing quickly, tears forming in his eyes, his anxiety kicking in. Velvet turned to her brother to try and calm him down.

“I don’t know what came over me… he was… he was going to hurt you Ven…. I couldn’t stop.” She turned back to look at the guys lifeless body…wherever they to came from, there had to be more.

“Veneer look at me. Veneer!” She grabbed his face looking him dead in the eye. “You’re going to have to trust me. Let’s get our bags and run. Just follow me.” She threw the metal pipe she had and grabbed her duffle bag. “Ven please come on!”

It took her brother a moment to recollect his thoughts… she was protecting him… that’s all she was doing… right? He quickly grabbed his duffle bag and took his sister’s hand. They both ran off deep into the under parts of Rageous.

They were alone. They didn’t know where to go, where to hide…and they were in trouble.

[celestle-m0th]

Okay okay so, I decided to try something new, I’ve made an oc for night vale now at the beginning yes backstory and all, but I thought that making one now so when I finish the podcast I’ll re make them given what I know then! And see how far my oc’s come and my style :) also yes I included the bathroom cat :3 I love him so so much!!!!

Art:

Backstory: star obviously isn’t human that much is clear apparently not to the people of night vale, star is a being that can shape shift it’s features I imagine they came to night vale given how it seems to be a hotspot for monsters and other worldly beings, and she got a bit confused on how humans are meant to look, they got the body part right for the most part, they saw a cat and went oh yeah humans have those big things(ears) on the side of there face and that’s why they look so funny(I struggle drawing human ears) they also got the calico spot colours from a calico cat, although the more I look at them they look like a human koi fish hybrid, they couldn’t quite figure out where the eyes are meant to be so they hang low and there not really eyes more like black voids, the reason why everybody thinks star is human and don’t question him as an outsider is because there was a star in night vale, an intern at the radio station actually but one day he didn’t come to work, he had been looking into the mayor and the council, maybe that’s why they seemed so nervous when star popped back up again mere days later? But it wasn’t star, the monster like being, had been looking for something to use as a base to form itself as human when it came across a young woman, long brown hair that almost looked to stick up on the sides in a point caught on something as it sat lifelessly in the car park near old woman Josie house, her body leaned against an old broken down car, blood seemed to drip from wounds on the face and bruises formed on the body large and small, a longish and white and blue dress ripped and bloodied hung on the girls body, her bag sat not too far, her ID read with the name star lunari(yes I finally gave her a cannon last name!!!!!!!!) so the being forced itself after her, a couple hiccups here and there with the hair seeming to defy gravity pointing up words like the hair that seemed stuck on parts of the car, and the calico like splotches on the body that where formed due to the misconception of the blood and bruises(all her calico spots are just where the blood and bruises where on the body) and she formed her clothes, “star” took the bag and the ID and nobody was any wiser, it was just like star had never left, nobody questioned the new look as more then a goth phase despite her not looking goth at all?them dam youths. The council and mayor seem very on edge when “star” is around although star just gives them a big toothy grin with all her very very sharp teeth. The only time “star” is ever questioned on her inhuman appearance is by outsiders, but all it takes of for one of the towns people to ask if she’s human and for “star” to respond “yes… I am human, I eat food… nom nom” and they quickly believe her and call the outsiders silly she just has a sunburn.

Anyways that’s my oc I’ll redesign her when I’m done with night vale or maybe if this ages well then I won’t who knows, also nick of background on how I came up with lunari as her last name, me and a friend I don’t speak to anymore where gonna start an Minecraft smp with some other friends, and we where gonna make a kingdom and name it lunaria(this was years ago) I loved my little pony as a kid and one of my favourite characters was princess Luna, so much so I named most of my oc’s Luna, my friend came up with the aria bit cause of the song this day aria(still slaps btw, third favourite character was queen chrysalis) anyways only remembered it when the friend was brought up(they did some shitty things) so I decided I still really liked the name and reused it but just got rid of some letters.

[prinzrupprecht]

To Live or Die

Chapter 3 - conscious of feelings

Please read the previous parts if you’re new! Click on synopsis and see all the chapters linked.

Synopsis

TW: hurt/comfort, a bit of angst

WC: 1013

A week had passed since you sent your response back to Souji. You had written the usual things to lift the awkward tension through the letter. You remember clearly what you had written before sending it. ‘I normally feel empty and still do since the war and how things left off. Things are okay, maybe not as great as before.’ You tried to be as vague as possible to not let your emotions out.

‘The new government had started trading rapidly with the westerners and opened a port cargo centre nearby. Business is the same and boring I guess. My uncle just rents dock space to private boat owners and sells equipment.’ Your hands were shaking while you wrote a bit about your new life while leaving out the crime that was circulating in the area to not worry him or Kondo. You loved how he used to worry about you. Things felt different as if a void accumulated in your heart.

Your closing statement was you saying how sorry you were for lashing out and that you wished him the best. ‘I’m glad you seem to be doing well yourself, I honestly should be the one to apologize for the things I’ve said before departing and regret it all. I hope we can move past it. I’m sorry again, Souji.’ You were unsure if you were honestly doing the greatest without him.

You were starting to regret sending the letter without hinting you wanted to be a family again like the old days. You sighed while sitting up in your empty room, you weren’t happy and were pretending to be.

It has been a week since you sent it and you were honestly unsure if he even wanted to respond back and maybe it was for the best.

~~~ Okita’s POV

When he saw that you had responded back, a joyful feeling exploded in his chest but he was nervous at what you had written back. He still didn’t hesitate to open it but what he was feeling was a gratitude relief to your new custom life. Yet, something else felt dissatisfying about how you weren’t curious about him as much as he was with you.

He liked how clean your handwriting has always been which was about it. He wanted some kind of reassurance that you still cared a lot for him as he did for you.

Did you move on? The question sent his mind into turmoil. He wants you to be happy no matter what, but with someone else? He doesn’t know how well he would take that. He remembers the day before he left how you begged him to run away from the war and to be with you forever like how you two wanted. Yet, things could’ve changed. He was clinging onto hope that you still wanted to be with him.

Kondo had left him alone since Souji requested to be left alone to think. He wondered whether it was worth sending another letter back or did you not care anymore. Why didn’t you say you missed him? Did you miss him? He was mad at himself for how things were between you two. He crumpled the piece of paper with frustration.

Souji decided he wasn’t going to send another letter back. Instead, he decided that he would go down there to the port of Yokohama to see you in person. He didn’t want to give up on that possible future with you. Maybe he felt a bit hopeless over it.

Kondo would likely support his decision and accompany him because your uncle was a great friend of his. Yet still, he was unsatisfied with many things. The loss of many of his friends and Kondo is suffering with keeping his dojo due to taxation and nobody wanted to train at the Tennin rishin-ryu due to the ban on katana’s, but you’re allowed to still have dojos for other martial art purposes. He wanted to help Kondo out as much as possible to keep the dojo since it was his home.

Souji didn’t want to say he felt more alone but things certainly felt more different.

Kondo had returned later that evening from a long day of work and meetings to check on him since he was worried. He wondered what the letter had said to put him in such a foul mood. Yet, he was very calm and wanted to give him space if that’s what he needed. Souji was sitting outside holding one of the stray cats. “Oh, you’re back.” Souji smiled back at Kondo. It was like he was different.

“Hmm, ya.” Kondo crossed his arms and stared at the kids playing across the street.

“I have decided what I want to do.” Souji turned his head to look at his father figure.

“You have?” Kondo’s eyes were closed. He already knew what he was going to say.

“Ya, I want to see her. Even if it’s just one time and if she tells me to leave afterwards, I’ll have my answer. I just— I just want to know something,” Souji stumbled his last sentence. He did want answers to a lot of things whether he mattered to you still.

“I see… was this something you want to do alone?” Kondo would have to work around their schedules to find a time to go down to Yokohama. It would be an 8-hour walk on foot.

“If it’s possible, I’d like for you to come with me.” Souji smiled up at Kondo. It would’ve been hard to say no to him since he cared a lot for him. Even Kondo was wondering why you’ve never returned as well. He took and raised you both without hesitation.

“Give me a few days, I’ll tell the boss something came up and we can go down there.” Kondo placed a hand on his shoulder to reassure him that he wasn’t alone.

Souji was a bit nervous to know the truth as to why you were avoiding him. Even the letter felt forced or so he hoped he was wrong.

Proceed to the next part

➤ Chapter 4

[dancingamongstdust]

Creepypasta Scenarios - First Meeting (Part 3)

I’ve opened requests now, if anybody is interested. Here’s the post:

Requests

Lost Silver

As stupid as it sounds, the game didn’t scare you.

It had started as a joke, something passed around your friend group after it had been discovered. The cartridge was just a janky version of a Pokémon game that was apparently spooky and so, everybody had taken turns messing around with it. They all said creepy things started happening but nothing too bad.

When it was your turn, you had been fully expecting something out of a horror movie. Instead, you had gotten a game that just had audio cut offs and weird notes warning you to stay out. It wasn’t all together scary.

You mentioned this to the next person you gave the game to in your friend group and they had laughed, saying it would probably ring true for them also.

But for some reason, your ally didn’t manifest.

Less than two days later, they practically threw the game at the rest of you and ran away sprouting things about curses. After that, the appeal of playing it kind of went away.

Nobody wanted to buy it and apparently throwing it out wasn’t a suggestion. So you ended up getting it.

Curiosity soon got the better of you and you booted up the game again, really sure that it would do something absolutely crazy but it never did. It ran like it always had with only that one file being completed.

So you deleted the file.

And nothing happened.

The next day, when you booted up the game, the file had simply returned as though you hadn’t deleted it in the first place. A similar thing occurred the next time. And the next.

Eventually you gave up and just started your own game. There, everything ran like it was meant to and you were beginning to think that your friends had all been imagining stuff. Maybe their paranoid got to them or something like that?

But eventually, the nightmares started. And they were bad.

You couldn’t remember exactly what happened during them. They were a swirling mess of games and glitches, horrible things spelled out in letters and blood covering everything. You would always wake up right when they seemed to be coming to a pivotal point. You’d find yourself dragged into a graveyard and then you’d wake up screaming

It was awful. You hardly got any sleep during them and they seemed to haunt you every night, keeping you up until the early hours of the morning.

But the worst only came when you didn’t wake up.

When you were dragged to the grave and looked down to see the ellipsis where the name should be. A punch to the gut that reminded you of what the game file was called. A confirmation of what was causing this dream.

You stared at it for ages before your eyes drifted up and you met his gaze. He was covered in blood, it leaked from every orifice and limb. It stained his dirty clothing even worse.

While you were staring, the world seemed to distort even though he didn’t. The game world melted away and your bedroom slowly reappeared.

It wasn’t until you saw car headlights move past your window – casting awful shadows across the room – that you realised you were no longer dreaming. He wasn’t a figment of your imagination.

The temperature in the room plummeted and you began to slowly reach for a weapon of some kind. He turned to look at what you were watching. His head tilted to the side and a glitch raced across his body before he vanished into thin air. Flicking on the lights didn’t show him hiding or cowering.

Perhaps your friends weren’t crazy after all.

Masky

“You know, if we had been a little more patient, none of this would have happened,” your sibling lectured. “We could be relaxing inside the car without having to worry about a bloody flash flood coming down from the sky.”

You shoved their back, forcing them to stumble a little as they went through the door. “Chances are the river’s going to burst its banks anyway. We would have been stuck in traffic for hours because the bridge is blocked off.”

“At least we would have been dry,” they muttered, running their fingers through their hair. “And not trapped inside an abandoned building.”

You rolled your eyes and made your way over the rubble to settle down on a camping chair. “Don’t even start. This place has been a hangout for my friends and I for ages. There’s never been a single problem bigger than a few spiders.”

“Till a landlord shows up,” they scoffed.

“Then we’ll move to the forest,” you joked. “I’m sure there’s a good bear cave we can use.”

“I’m going to be an only child,” they said, rolling their eyes. Still, they made their way over and sat. “How long do you think we have until the storm dies down?”

You relaxed back into the chair and smiled up at the asbestos-filled ceiling. “From the sound of it, a while.”

It wouldn’t have been the first time you had taken a nap in the building. You were scared of giant cockroaches coming to eat you once. You had gotten used to it since then but this time when you woke up, you were uneasy.

Glancing around, nothing was out of the ordinary. Your sibling was snoring in the chair next to you and outside the rain was pounding the roof.

You sat upright. Sometimes was definitely wrong.

Pulling your phone from your pocket, you got up from the chair and began walking as quietly as you could through the house. It had always been tiny and practically void of furniture, but the few rooms provided ample hiding spots.

Nothing but rubble was in most of the rooms but, in what you presumed had once been a bathroom, you found a person.

He had his back to you but when you pushed the door open to peer in, he spun around, his hand flying to his side. He was wearing a white mask, dark features etched onto it, and an orange jacket. A dark stain ran up the right side of it, emanating from under his hand. The oddness of his clothing made you immediately back away from the door, finger twitching on your cell phone in case you needed to call for help.

The two of you stared at each other in silence.

You were lost about what to say or do. The stain on his jacket was spreading and the more you stared at it, the more you became convinced it was blood. “Are you okay?” you finally managed to ask.

It took him a while to respond but then he nodded. The mask was unnerving you. You didn’t like not being able to see a person’s facial expressions.

“I don’t mean to pry or anything, but it really looks like you’re bleeding,” you said. “And quite badly. I can call for an ambulance or something although…” you turned your attention to the window behind his head. “I’m not sure they’ll be able to get anywhere with this weather.”

He stepped backward. “I’m fine,” he said, so soft you barely caught it. “I thought this place was abandoned.”

“It normally is,” you answered. “But we had to avoid the storm. I’m guessing that’s why you’re here also?”

“Yes,” he responded.

You waited or him to say something more, but all you got was silence. He had moved further away and now he had his back against the window. Part of you wanted to turn around and go back to your sibling but you were unsure about turning your back on the strange man.

The mask made you scared he could stab you or something.

Somebody calling your name made you turn your head on instinct. Your sibling must have woken up and realised you were missing.

Quickly, you turned back to the man, but he had disappeared. Rain spat through the now open window.

Nurse Ann

Everybody always warned you about exploring old buildings. They would yell about how many things could injure or kill you. Stray animals, drug addicts, old equipment, and all that. You had heard just about every warning imaginable. Ghosts were pretty commonly mentioned also.

But killer nurse was a new one.

“Come on, just give me a little more information,” you nagged. “I’m going there whether you’re with me or not so you may as well just tell me what you’ve heard.”

Your friend (and partner in crime for most ventures) groaned. “It’s not much. They just say that she guards the place and if you get too close, she’ll run you off with a chainsaw. Some people have died from injuries they got while there. Let’s just give this one a miss, alright?”

But you were not in agreement at all.

“Maybe she’s cute though,” you teased.

They didn’t find that funny and you didn’t push them to come with you. So later that evening, you snuck in by yourself.

The hospital was old with crumbling walls and smashed windows. It was hidden from the public by means of a tall barbed-wire fence and a substantial distance of open garden. Nothing too extreme for you and definitely worth the potential items you’d find inside. When hospitals went under, they often left tons of awesome stuff just scattered around.

You’d never sold anything you found in your abandoned building dives. They were more collectables than anything else but they meant quite a bit to you.

There weren’t any signs of crazy nurses as you approached the place. Nobody came running at you with a chainsaw at least. You didn’t even find evidence of squatters who could sometimes pose some danger.

After deciding it was safe enough, you lifted yourself through one of the windows and began to explore.

Honestly, it was creepy. Everything was way too old to be worth collecting and there were too many unidentifiable stains for your liking. The water damage was bad. It looked like the ceiling was there for aesthetics only and several rooms creaked too much for you to comfortably cross them.

And that was even without the awkward feeling of being watched.

You told yourself that it was just superstition but you couldn’t shake it. Every few seconds saw you looking over your shoulder in anticipation. It distracted you from keeping your eye on the path in front of you and the loud crack reached your ears too late.

The floor gave out and you fell through. Your shoulder hit some kind of metal object as you landed in the room below. Painful shocks ripped through your body and your head knocked against the floor with a heavy thud.

Stars danced in front of your vision and you raised your hand to the top of your head. Blood coated your hand when you lowered it to look.

Shit.

Shakily, you tried to pull yourself up but quickly found that your arm was too sore. Instead, you pulled your phone from your pocket and sent off the emergency text to your friend.

The world faded to black not long after that.

When you woke up next, you were in your room with a bandage wrapped around your head. You had felt like absolute crap but still gotten up to thank them for the save. They had nodded and warned you to be more careful, happy that you had been outside the hospital so they didn’t have to look for too long.

Before you could even think about how you had crawled there, they asked how you had managed to do your own stitches so nicely.

Puppeteer

Your camera was on 10% battery.

Grumbling, you shoved it into your bag and cursed your past self for forgetting to put it on charge. In order to get the best sunrise photos, you had found yourself waking up earlier and earlier. It was tiring but it was worth it… most of the time.

You just hoped that at least one of your pictures was usable but you could only check on them once you got home.

The streetlight above your head flickered as you walked past. It wasn’t unusual but when you were the only person awake for miles around, it was awfully creepy.

Putting your hands into your jacket pockets, you continued strolling back home. The neighborhood had never been dangerous and despite living in the area for your entire life, no incidents made you want to stop walking around at night.

Deciding that you wanted to take a precautionary shot, you headed for your neighbour’s house first. They had an arch covered in jasmine flowers that made for some perfectly safe photos and they never minded your presence.

After making your way there and getting a few photos, you were treated to the fright of your life when their began howling and barking. It wasn’t aimed at you but you didn’t like the noise regardless.

As you rounded the corner of the house, planning on racing back to your own home, you encountered the dog’s target.

A man – cloaked in the darkness and barely illuminated by the streetlight – opening one of the windows with ease. Irritated by the dog, he didn’t notice you until your finger twitched around the shutter of your camera. There was a flash.

His head snapped up and you screamed.

The man’s complexation was literally grey. He wasn’t just ill, he was the colour of storm clouds. Golden eyes with no pupils glared at you and froze you in place. Whatever he was, this man was the furthest thing from human.

Your scream woke your neighbors. The sound of movement began coming from inside the house.

He abandoned the window, stalking towards you. The air tingled like it was expecting a lightning storm. Golden tendrils grew from his fingertips and shot towards you. They had you pinned in an instant.

You struggled against them and opened your mouth to scream again but they wrapped around your head, forcing your jaw shut.

This was how you died… tears spilled down your cheeks at the realization. You were going to be an unsolved murder. All you hoped was you got a good picture of him.

Your neighbor’s front door opened and great dane let out an ear-splitting bark as he raced toward you.

The man, or creature, or monster, or whatever he was, released you to face the dog. He let it approach before vanishing into a cloud of smoke as its jaws reached him.

“What was that?” the timid voice brought you back into reality.

“It was trying to get into your house,” you said. “I screamed when I saw it and then it grabbed me.” Your voice changed to a whimper as reality hit you. You nearly died.

The small child of the house came over to hug your leg. “I’m sure Puppet didn’t mean to scare you,” she said. “He always comes to visit but he doesn’t like it when people make noise. You shouldn’t scream when you see him again.”

You made eye-contact with the parents and they wore expressions of horror at their daughter’s words.

“Puppet?” you asked in a small voice.

She nodded rapidly. “He says he stops by because he likes watching people. I think that he’s watching us all right now! But he can hide in the shadows too well.”

“I’m going to go and call the police,” somebody said.

You weren’t all too focused. The feeling of being watched grew heavier and you clutched tightly at the camera in your hands.

Slenderman

You couldn’t tell if they were being serious. You hoped that they were joking. They weren’t genuinely going to…

“No,” you stated.

The two younger children both turned to look at you simultaneously. Guilt flashed across their faces as though they weren’t aware you were listening. It was as though you were asked to babysit them because you didn’t pay attention. These two should have realised that by now.

“Do you think all the stories are true?” the boy asked. “I think that they are. One of my friends said she saw a huge dog in the forest and then it ran away after eating a whole cow!”

“No way!” his twin sister shouted. “Dogs don’t eat cows, so it can’t be true!”

You put on your best intimidating expression and crossed your arms. “I don’t care if they’re true or not. There is absolutely no chance that either of you are going to go running off into the woods with bears, wolves and all kinds of other creatures.”

The two children glanced at each other and bolted for the tree line before you could grab their shirts.

Thankfully your legs were longer even if they had a head start and you managed to catch up pretty quickly. Once you caught the boy and picked him up with ease, the girl dashed behind a tree.

“Can we please just leave?” you asked nicely. “If we forget about the forest adventure thing, I promise I won’t tell your parents and I’ll get you ice cream.”

The boy was trying his hardest to get out of your hold. You were starting to think babysitting didn’t pay enough.

“I don’t want ice cream,” the girl said. “I want to go and find a unicorn.”

She darted off into the forest and you let out a deep groan. Shifting the boy’s weight over your one hip, you started walking after her. If you wanted to give chase via running, you would have to put the kid down and trust him to follow or stay.

It was obvious that wasn’t happening.

It didn’t take you too long to find the girl. Mostly because she had stopped in the middle of a weird grove in the trees. She was just staring off into the dark shadows beyond it.

As you approached her, static popped in your ears. You shook your head in an effort to displace it but the closer you got, the louder it became.

The child in your arms whimpered, clutching his head.

You softly called her name and then it appeared. It was a man-like monster, standing just in the shadows of the trees. Easily over 7ft tall and insanely thin with no facial features. Your heart jumped into your throat and your stomach tied itself into a knot.

Without taking your eyes off it, you reached out a hand and fumbled around until you grabbed the girl’s shirt.

The static was getting louder and louder. You tried to shut it out as you started moving backwards, tugging the child along after you. She wasn’t willing to move her legs. She was entranced but whether by fear or magic, you couldn’t tell.

And then it was much closer.

You stumbled in fright, letting go of the girl’s shirt and landing on your ass. The boy fell on top of you but scrambled away and hide in the bushes within the blink of an eye. You sent a silent prayer to him to run back home to the other adults.

Once again, the creature was stationary but now the static was growing to such a volume that you could imagine your ears were starting to bleed.

You reached out for the girl again slowly, but something wrapped around your leg and yanked you into the air.

It took almost a full second for you to realise that the screaming ringing in your ears was you. Whatever was holding you tightened and whipped your body through the air. It was like your leg was being ripped away.

Then you were falling.

It was some feat of luck that you managed to twist your body, so you didn’t land on your head. You lay there for a while before something poking your back made you unbury your face.

The twins were staring at you with wide eyes and the monster was nowhere in sight.

“What was –“ you couldn’t finish.

“Slenderman,” they said in perfect sync.

Splendorman

Another stop…

You couldn’t help yourself. Every time you walked past one of the posters fluttering lightly in the wind you had to stop and stare at it.

A few days ago, your dog, your beautiful and sweet puppy, had disappeared from your house without a trace. The missing posters were depressing reminders that he wasn’t home. It hadn’t taken long for your mind to spiral into the negative thoughts about how close the road was.

Damn your coworkers. One of the had suggested the road in the first place and while they hadn’t intended anything malicious, it was definitely not helping your fears.

The dog had been with you through thick and through thin… if it was dead, you may as well have lost a close family member.

Hanging your head, you dragged your eyes away from the poster and kept walking.

People bumped into you, but it was your fault. You refused to look up in case another poster distracted you. Getting home before the sun set was your only focus now.

You had tried going out and searching in all the places where your dog once spent time to no avail. Always willing to try again, you chose to drop off your bags and head out later that evening when you ran out of distractions.

As you walked through the gates in front of your house, a gust of air gently messed up your hair. A gust of wind suspiciously similar to a laugh.

Your logical mind told you it came from the street, but something made you stop in your tracks.

The walls around your property towered. There’s no possibility that somebody could be in your garden. To try and scale one of the walls, they would have been in full view of your neighbours who would have undoubtedly called the cops.

“You’re sad,” the wind whispered before you could brush off your suspicion.

Spinning wildly, you searched around for the source. You backed up until your entrance gate was behind you. You could run down to the main street with ease if you could just get your fumbling fingers to unlock things.

“Don’t run,” the wind said, this time blowing from a separate direction. “I promise I’m not going to hurt you. I just wanted to know why you’re upset.”

Is this what going insane was? Nobody around and the wind was talking to you. You had always feared losing your mind and now it was happening.

“I’m real,” the wind said. “I’m hiding because I’ll scare you if you see me.”

“I’m going mad,” you muttered, shaking your head. “If this is somebody pulling a prank on me I swear….”

The wind quietened for a bit and then it picked up again, ruffling your hair as it spoke. “If I show myself, it’ll prove that you’re not going crazy, but I don’t want to make it worse by frightening you… you’re so sad already.”

“I lost my best friend and people have been telling me he’s most likely dead,” you hissed. “Obviously I’m not in the best mood. Now I’m losing my fucking mind and talking to air.”

The atmosphere around you dropped, like it does moments before lightning strikes. You glanced at the sky in confusion. As expected, no clouds in sight.

You lowered your gaze and a 7ft tall creature covered in bright polka dots stood in front of your house.

Once you screamed, it disappeared.

“I’m sorry,” the wind said. “I knew I would scare you, but I had hoped it would show you that I’m not imaginary. I’m just trying to help.”

The gate finally opened behind you and you stumbled backwards through it, your heart sitting in your throat. A monster was in your house and it was probably going to kill you. Spinning on your heel, you took off full speed back towards the main street.

You were fully expecting it to give chase now that you hadn’t fallen for its claims of harmlessness but it didn’t.

Instead you reached the main road and only got a few strange looks because of how much you were shaking. Nothing followed you.

The wind picked up once more. “I’ll try and help,” it promised.

People walking around you should have heard it as well but none of them so much as blinked.

Ticci Toby

While you had been told that a noise limit for the forest existed, your laughter refused to cooperate. It rang through the trees and probably chased off all the animals nearby. A picnic out in a national forest was a fantastic way to reconcile with nature and to scare it all away.

With eleven people in your picnic party, chances of any creatures coming into view were already slim though so you didn’t worry too much.

“We didn’t bring nearly enough fruit,” you muttered as you dug in the basket.

“Excuse you, I brought a whole watermelon but you ate it,” somebody answered your grumble. “If you want fruit, it is spring. Go and forage for some berries.”

You snorted. “Yeah, right. I’m going to go out by myself in the middle of the one season where bears are irritable as fuck. I know I sometimes act a little impulsively, but I don’t exactly have a wish to die at the claws of a grumpy teddy.”

Your friend leaned towards you. “Is that so? What if we split into teams and made a bet? Loser has to take a dip in the river.”

“A bet?” you asked. “I’m interested.”

She grinned and snapped her fingers. “Okay, there are eleven people so I’m feeling groups of two with one impartial party as a judge. We should be fine if we make enough noise and stick within close vicinity to each other. See how many berries we can gather?”

Tipping out the picnic basket’s contents, you smirked and pushed it into her chest. “Oh, I hope you brought a swimming costume.”

Everybody teamed up with ease and grabbed one of the many containers lying on the blanket. You headed out with your partner and gave a wink to the other teams. All you needed was to find one good bush first and you had it won.

“We should split up,” your partner said. “Cover more ground.”

You nodded. “We meet up back here once we’ve found a good bush,” you agreed. “And we shout if we find any animals.”

Obviously, your plans hadn’t involved losing your footing almost directly after the two of you split.

Tumbling down the small hill, you tried your hardest to protect yourself from the bushes as you went through them. At some point, you lost your basket and by the time you had finally rolled to a stop, you had no idea where it was.

Grumbling, you stood up and started searching until something dark caught your eye. Thinking it was your basket, you made your way over.

The clearing you walked into housed a scene you could never have imagined.

A dead bear lay slumped against a tree, its fur being what had caught your eye earlier. A hatchet buried in its neck was spilling blood onto the floor around it. All that hardly compared to the man leaning against a tree.

“Oh my god!” you exclaimed. “Are you alright?”

His head immediately snapped up, allowing you to see that he was wearing a mouth guard and a pair of goggles. Blood seeped from between his fingers where they clutched against his chest, but he hardly noticed. A hatchet was hanging from his belt.

Suddenly, you were wishing you had kept your mouth shut.

He stared at you blankly for a while, an occasional twitch minorly affecting his body. Reaching up, he took off his mouthguard. “I can’t feel any pain,” he said. “So, I’m fine. Why are y-you out here? The hiking trail is far.” He struggled with one of the words, seeming to hiccup a little on it.

“I was searching for berries and I slipped down a hill,” you answered. “Are you sure you’re okay? It looks like you got into a fight with a bear. Your shirt is all bloody.”

“I did fight a bear,” he laughed, gesturing to it. “I won.”

Your eyes grew wider. “I think you should get to a hospital. What’s your name? I can call somebody for you and we’ll get you medical attention.”

“Toby,” he said. “That’s my name. What’s yours?”

You gave him your full name and pulled out your phone. “My friends are close by,” you said. “Don’t worry, they’ll be here to help soon.”

When you raised your attention from your phone, he had disappeared and so had the hatchet from the bear’s neck.

Trenderman

Work was hard. It made your feet ache, it made your back click and crack, and it felt like the problems would never end.

Would you give up working in the fashion industry? Not a chance.

Your boss walked past where you were calming down an irate customer over the phone and dropped the keys to the front of the building in front of you. “Close up for me,” she mouthed as she left.

Nodding, you moved them to the side of the desk where they couldn’t be lost.

Once you had finished calming the customer, you glanced around to check how many people were left in the room. Three still working and one in the process of leaving. You were technically going into overtime at this point, but you didn’t mind.

There was a reason you were promoted so quickly.

“We need to set up cameras!” one of the floor managers snapped, storming into the office. She marched straight over to your desk and glowered at you. “I put this request in a week ago.”

Scrolling through the documents, you quickly opened the file. “I see but it looks like it’s been bumped due to a shipment malfunction, I’ll flag it. What’s the problem?”

“Customers or members of staff are moving items around and throwing things out without warning. We need to catch the culprits!” she snapped.

“What has been thrown out?” you asked. “I’ll add it into the information.”

The woman started listing quicker than you could type. “I’ve found crocs, toeless thigh-high boots, bellbottomed jeans, coloured faux fur jackets, luminous lipstick, w-necks, and jeggings all in vast numbers in the trash can. Every time I put them out on shelves, they disappear again.”

It took everything in you not to snort. “I’ll mark this vital.”

She stalked off and you went back to inputting the shipping requirements. You were meant to be organising what was coming in for the latest line and subtly omitting anything that wouldn’t sell well enough.

Slowly but surely, your co-workers trickled out of the office after finishing off their daily tasks. You kept going, trying to make sure you could have a longer break the next day.

Finally, when the sun had already set, you relented and started getting ready to go home.

You sung as you finished packing up for the day. Being the last one in the building (thus having to lock up) made you a little more confident as you danced around getting everything together. You slung your bag over your shoulder and happily trotted over to the door.

It made you so happy that your boss entrusted you to be the last one around. She was so hyper-protective of company secrets that you were proud of yourself for winning her over.

Your talent with people was something you attributed to dealing with painful customers.

As you passed through the store-part of the business you stopped to rearrange a mannequin. Every morning when you came in, you always noticed something had been changed with this specific one. You figured you could move something small and see if it would be a good place to set up a hidden camera.

Though you weren’t expecting it to suddenly grab your arm.

“You may be one of the few workers here with good taste, but I advise you don’t try and change my outfit,” it said. It didn’t have a mouth, but the words rang in your head, nevertheless.

You screamed and pulled away, tearing your arm from its grip. Shelves were knocked over and clothing was sent flying as you tried to escape.

The mannequin just watched you as you fumbled madly for the door.

The glass rattled in the frame from how hard you slammed it shut behind you. You sped off down the street, moving faster than you ever had before. You collapsed on your lawn by the time you reached the house, taking deep breaths.

Nothing had followed you. Everything was okay.

With shaking fingers, you dialed your boss’ number and told her you would be taking a sick day. There wasn’t a chance in hell you were going anywhere near there again.

Not to mention the mess you made… you were definitely getting fired.

[infinitegalahad]

YOUR PROMPTS ARE OPEN!!!! 🥳🥳🥳 im so excited this time has come! you know i'll probably send a few but for my first i'd like to request #'s 33 and 50 from the fluff prompts with my dear shifty, of course. mucho love 2 u!

A LITTLE PIECE OF HOME

Summary: Before your childhood friends Popeye and Shifty are shipped out, Popeye brings his new camera and decides to make some last minute memories. 

Word-Count: 1.9k 

Prompts: “can i keep it, the photo of us?” and “look at me.”

A/N: pearl, my love, my life-HI! your little request was beyond fun to write! this piece is short and sweet in (hopefully) all the right places-anything for you! shifty is our sweet sunshine boy and it was a pleasure to write for you. i hope you request more prompts soon my love-thanks you for being there for me. your messages always brighten my day. i hope you enjoy ❣️✨ 

Masterlist | Send In A Prompt!

It was the perfect day outside. In Virginia, it felt like summer all year round. But today was different-it was absolutely gorgeous. The sun shined bright as the heat burned down on your exposed shoulders with the sun making your skin become pink. The day seemed too perfect for it to end so soon.

You, Darrell, and Robert had been friends since the three of you were in diapers. You all grew up in a small tight-knit town; living down the same dirt road that went for miles on end, going to the same Sunday church and packed diner for pancakes and milkshakes, walked all over the train tracks, the three of you were conjoined at the hip. Wherever they went, you went with them.

Robert was the one who brought the group together. In second grade, Robert and Darrell had been playing during recess one day and saw you, sitting all by yourself with tears coming out of your big eyes and your hair and dress all covered in dirt. Darrell saw you and ran over. He didn’t know you, but he hated seeing other people sad-so not only were you crying, but Darrell burst into loud sobs, followed by Robert. When you had stopped crying, Darrell and Robert took you to their little play corner and got wet clothes, rubbing the dirt from your face. The boys in your school had been teasing you and kicked dirt in your direction, messing up the outfit your mama had made for you. While Darrell attempted to “make you pretty” again, he asked for your name and asked if you had any friends. Once you told him your name and that you had no friends, he said that he and Robert were your new friends from now on.

And they truly were.

Now the three of you we’re in your twenties-still living in that small town in Virginia. Each of you had changed in appearance. Popeye grew into his round-face, his thin hair receding, but his dimples and slurred accent still remaining the same. Shifty, well to you-he was handsome. He hadn’t changed one bit, but every day he got even more handsome to look at it. He grew from the sweetheart who cried with you in second grade to the boy who offered to take you platonically to prom since nobody was “in their right mind” to do so. The boy with the sun-tanned skin and comforting smile was your best friend and the love of your life. But how could you tell him? Almost every girl wanted him. Bless their hearts, but he was too shy for his own good-and so were you. Considering your experience with men, you decided it was best if you and Shifty would stay friends. The two of you had done some for nearly a decade. But as you got older, it got harder to contain those feelings. Whenever you looked at him, you felt like you were going to throw up your heart.

The three of you all believed that you would live in this town for the rest of your lives and until you were all old and real adults. But that all changed in an instant.

Robert and Shifty had signed up for the Paratroopers and we’re being shipped out to Toccoa early next morning. They had broken the news to you last night at Shifty’s house with his poor Ma, breaking into tears. Just like his ma, Shifty’s big eyes began to burst into tears, which made everybody cry. Whenever he got emotional, it always reminded you of a younger and more innocent Shifty, the one that never missed a single shot and loved nature. Your one, true friend who you could tell anything to, the one who knew your small quirks and deepest secrets. The one man that you loved more than anything in the world that was now slipping through your fingers.

In that very field you sat in, you stayed silent most of the time. Shifty had his rifles slung over his shoulders, donning light blue overalls as he and Popeye walked around, casually conversing about being Paratroopers. You hide behind the tall grass, slowly picking the petals off of a bright daisy, muttering to yourself. You watched his every move; his lips moving with a smile, his smooth skin glittering in the sun, and his chocolate brown hair becoming golden in the bright sun.

You had become so lost in your own little world that you didn’t even notice Shifty, standing right next to you. He poked your shoulder and saw you looked up with a confused face, progressing your surroundings.

“Y/n? You okay?” He asked, bending down with his hands on his knees. “You’ve been awfully quiet.”

You looked up and subtle smiled to cover up your sadness. “I am, Darrell. Just a little sleepy.”

Darrell held out a free hand in front of your face, “Well, you wanna with me just a little?

You silently responded and took his hand, which lingered for longer than you wanted it to. His hands had been so worked, his skin remained as soft as silk. His fingertips finessed against your palm. The two of you walked side by side as you walked side by side, the sounds of the wind blowing through the tall grass filling the silent void.

Darrell was a little concerned by your quiet behavior. You were normally very energetic about him and Robert, but you were as silent as a mouse today. It was your last time truly with him and for Robert for one month, one year, who knew how long they would be gone for. Darrell maybe would never see you again, the small town the two of you grew up in, your bright smile. He wanted to see that every single day; whether that be waking up to you in the morning or having a little piece of you overseas.

Darrell was very in touch with his emotions, unafraid to conceal them. His ma always taught him to be honest, and that’s what he did best. So when you were down, he had to fix it before it was too late.

“Y/n?” He said in a low tone, turning over to see you, unresponsive as you looked down at your fiddling hands. You were hurting, and it broke his heart to see what. “Can you tell me what’s bothering you?”

You were unresponsive as you kept your eyes down, your hands scrunching with the fabric of your flowy skirt. He had done nothing wrong-he never had done anything wrong to you ever. But it was hard to think that the next time you would hear from Shifty-it could be a military letter and announce that he had died a hero. Just another number in a never-ending war. And that you, a fool, never confessed how you felt to your childhood best friend.

Darrell stopped in his tracks and let out a soft sigh, tenderly grabbing your forehand to stop you as well. His free hand moved to the edge of your chin, gently tilting it sideways so you would make eye contact with him.

“Look at me,” Darrell politely requested, his voice shaky.

You followed his request and looked at him, seeing that he was fighting back tears. You weren’t the only one, which made you feel relieved and even sadder.

“Oh Darrell...you know if I start with my waterworks, you’ll be followed’ after,'' You remarked and let out a dry chuckle, masking the incoming tears. It was too late and a stray tear escaped from Shifty’s eye, his pink lips quivering as he was speechless.

Just like you had stated, two tears came from your eyes as you used a finger to wipe him away. “Told ya’ so. Look at us, just little kids.”

Darrell rested in your palm, rubbing against it like a cat would with a pillow. “Like it was yesterday. I remember washing the dirt from your cheeks so I could make you look pretty again. Don’t know why I ever said that-you still are pretty.”

You patted his cheeks as you lead his hands down into your own, squeezing them. Darrell and you stood in the open field, hands tangled with each other, the wind blowing against you as the grass tickled your bare feet. Not only did the humidity make you feel warm, but so did the growing heat in your cheeks.

“How do you tell someone you love them?” Darrell casually questioned to break the silence that was growing in the wind.

A smile crept on your face, “Just like your ma would say, you just gotta be honest with yourself.”

“Well, I think I love you. No, I don’t think. I know it.” Darell declared, holding your hands close to his chest. “I wanted to let you know. I didn’t wanna ever tell you.”

You tilted your heart and let out a dreamy sigh. “Oh, Darell...I…”

The sudden click and flash of a camera before blinded you and Shifty. You squint your eyes as they burned with flashes of white light as Shifty pulled you into his chest, his hands protectively resting on your lower back.

It was just Robert, holding his brand new camera over his eyes, his thin eyebrows raised and mouth wide open in shock. Instead of reacting, Shifty and you stayed close together, both red in the face along with Robert.

Robert took the photo out of the camera and shook it, tucking it into Shifty’s pocket. You opened your mouth to speak, but Robert beat you to it.

“I’ll leave you lovebirds to it,” Robert said as he turned around, walking away in a hurry, “I’ll see ya at the Power’s for supper-I hope.”

Once Robert had left, Shifty dug his fingers into his pocket to retrieve the photo. You leaned against his chest and observed the photo. Robert had caught the two of you in the middle of your confession, hands tangled as your eyes met. Both of you had smiles on your faces-and Darrell looked amazing-even if he was in black and white.

“That’s not a bad photo of you,” You complimented as you leaned into his nice smelling chest, “You looked handsome.”

“And you looked pretty-but you always do.” Shifty shot back, planting a kiss into your face. He observed the photo and then looked down at you to compare, a big smile appearing on his face like a child on Christmas morning. Shifty had found his answer, and it was not only right in front of him but in his fingertips.

“Can I keep it, this photo of us?” Darrell said in your hair as he shook the photo, “When I need a piece of home. I’ll give you my whole heart, anything you want, darlin’.”

You nodded your head, “Yes, you can. You don’t need to give me anything-but can I ask you something?”

“Yes, darlin’. Anything,” Darrell stated as he looked down at your adoringly. He looked like he wanted to give you the whole world in that moment, If he could have, he would have.

“We only got a night left together for a long time. Can we spend it all together? Just one night?”

Shifty flashed his bright smile and kissed each knuckle on your hand, leaving a small mark. “Yes ma’am.”

Once Shifty had neatly stored the cherished photograph of you into his breast project, the two of you grabbed each other's hands and walked down the gravel road, back to the Power’s residence for supper. You leaned against his shoulder, letting him lead you. Whenever Darrell had gone, you would follow along. You knew your last few hours together were short, but if it was your last time ever seeing Darell-you wanted to make the most of it.

[dreamiesdotcom]

carpe diem | n.jm

summary: You both are the only people in the world, and it is be true; maybe it is. Maybe it isn't — maybe you don't need it to be. It feels real, so it is real, and even if you are lying to yourself as you say it, nobody has to know. Carpe Diem. Seize the day. Make the most out of the present moment. Trust the angel to say to you the filthiest of lies he's held on his tongue. Fall in love with Na Jaemin.

word count: 2689

a/n: yo :') me has been inactive but this has been requested based on this and I always thought that this blurb is too vague to understand, so here I thought 'why not?' because, you know, yOu gOtTa sEiZe tHe oPpuRtunIty (to procrastinate) (really tho) (i wrote this in one sitting but only bc i procrastinated it for a day and five hours)

Carpe Diem. Seize the day. Make the most out of the present moment. Sit inside your local library as soon as it opens, don't leave your favorite cafe until it closes at noon. Read aloud poetry, write excerpts on tissues, leave it for another person to see. Fold paper stars. Hang neon moons. Run barefooted on forests or just around your room, stargaze or just look up the sky. Wear your heart on your sleeve. Have your heart broken. Be completely in love with your best friend.

To be at the brink of sleep is the saddest and happiest feeling you can feel when it's late-night; to know that you're finally going to be able to rest, to remember why it is that you struggle to do so anyway. The clock glares 3:34 a.m and it's the time where your demons ring the loudest, sharp murmurs drowned by muffled sobs. Your phone jolts you awake when it vibrates.

From: Jaem ^^

You up?

It should annoy you, really, but it doesn't. By the time you're done typing, you're already reaching out for your jacket and your purse.

To: Jaem ^^

I don't quite seem to know... am I?

It's a numb feeling that you get when you meet him outside. Jaemin looks wonderful even in his hoodie, his hair a mess he didn't bother fixing. He's beautiful, and it's tragic because you just want him to leave. That's all you can think of when he smiles and cups your cheeks, "I can't sleep. Stay up with me?"

When he stares at you like that, he sees the answers he wants but he remains trying to look unassuming — an image of pure, honest, and genuine innocence; a lie he often makes. You close your eyes to hide, soaking up the lovely feeling of being able to breathe; Are you underwater? Are you jumping along with blue skies? Are you in Neverland? You aren't really sure— you couldn't care less that you're uncertain which and where to compare this feeling to. His gaze softens, "You are so, so pretty. Can I kiss you?"

He traces his thumbs against your cheeks, and it urges you to look and see but you're so afraid of what you'd find behind his mask. It doesn't matter anyway, not when right now, it's only Jaemin and you existing. All you could think of is that if you try hard enough, if you imagine real hard enough, it will be true. That you could live in that thought — you both are the only people in the world, and it will be true.

Maybe it is. Maybe it isn't — maybe you don't need it to be. It feels real, so it is real, and even if you are lying to yourself as you say it, nobody has to know. Carpe Diem. Seize the day. Make the most out of the present moment. Trust the angel to say to you the filthiest of lies he's held on his tongue.

"Of course," you would have almost begged had he not asked. "Of course you can."

When you can’t let yourself fall but you do anyway, when you can't admit to wanting someone fully, when you're three steps away from safety so you build walls to guard you — when you aren't brave enough to dream, when you pretend not to yearn, when you end up wanting less, what you do is lie. You lie. You lie although wanting less hurts, and wanting less is unstable, and wanting less just makes you want to want more.

You lie.

"I have never been," he gasps and then smiles as he yet again presses a warming kiss against your lips, "so desperately in love."

You lie when you don't dare want — at least, that's what Jaemin does. It's okay, though; it is, because you will always allow him. Because you will always let him. Because you can never deny him. Because you will always want what he wants, too. You ignore the bile coating your mouth and head home with cold fingers.

###

Is love even ever sane? When you think about it, nothing really is. Rewrite that: is love even ever safe?

Jaemin has gravity, and all it does is keep you from running. You try to walk away to save yourself but you can't; you try to show him how cold your heart can get but the ice melts when his fingers run down your spine. His eyes glint in the dark. Unfold for me, it seemed to say, the taste is bitter but chase it. Chase it anyway. And you do. You chase it.

Perhaps it's not love. Perhaps it's just you. Whatever the case, all of it boils down to one conclusion: you're in danger.

"Jaemin?" You call, the both of you lost somewhere in the middle of highs and lows of sharing a deep, passionate, and confusing kiss. You smile sweetly and cup his cheeks when he responds with a smile just as saccharine, and you whisper, "I hope you think of me."

He makes a confused but endeared sound, and you laugh a little.

"I hope you think of me all the time and it fucks you up."

Somehow that makes him want to kiss you more, and who are you to deny him and how are you going to do that when he's on it now and it's all you ever wanted? Chase it. Chase it. Chase his lips when it leaves yours because you are his hostage but he is trapped. Chase his lips because this might be the last time and all you want is to be his ghost, to be the name he calls for even when he's with someone else, to be the only one he feels even when others touch him. Chase his lips until he puts pressure on your waist so that he could go back to the shore, breathe a fresh set of air.

Jaemin runs a hand through his hair, catching his lips between his teeth as he prepares himself for sincerity; it seemed like a lie, but it doesn't go away long enough that you know it's true when he nods — "You fuck me up all the time."

###

"It's two a.m and I'm on my fourth coffee because, you know, Carpe Diem!"

You grimace, "Stop using Carpe Diem to excuse your stupidity."

Jaemin doesn't laugh, but he flashes that half-smile he knows drives you wild. The cafe is quiet as it holds no one but the two of you, the barista and the student at the counter — the sound of coffee brewing fills the void of your silence, but it's quickly muffled out by Jaemin's sudden chuckle.

"Might mess around and kiss you." He rests his chin on both his palms, caught in a reverie and actually thinking about it. He sighs dreamily, "The ultimate Carpe Diem."

"Dumbass." He laughs more at your bemused tone, but you don't. It's not funny. "What, you think I'm easy? What am I to you, 'min?"

It's an unnecessary outburst. You could let him have you just like always and it will be done, it will be over, you can forget it. You could let him kiss you just like how you want it and you could move on with the moment but for heaven's sake, you don't want to. It is an unnecessary outburst, but God, this unnecessary is so needed at the moment.

"Tell me." Your breath hitches in your throat as you whisper, "I want to hear what I know directly from your lips. Tell me."

Tell me you don't love me. Tell me that you're just lonely. Tell me that I am nothing but an anchor to hold onto when it's midnight and you're way too cold to be warm. Tell me all the cruel things you refuse to say because maybe what I need so badly is to see you be the liar I know you are.

"There are things that we don't need to say out loud."

A shiver runs up your spine at his smile, and you look away. Genuine is not what you need, but at the same time what you need is the truth — for him to be cruel — so that you could run, so that you could have a reason to run, so that you could convince yourself that you have a reason to run. You have been too willing to bend to his needs, to lose sleep, to lose yourself; what you need is to have a reason to try not to love him, which is to say that you do.

"And sometimes, those things are all that we need to hear so we stop being confused." You return his fond gaze, fingers moving to caress his cheeks, "I'm done trying to guess if you want me because you love me or you're just with me because I'm convenient."

Sometimes you wonder why it is that he has to lie; why does he need to tell you things he doesn't feel? But oh, on some days, you feel like he's not lying anymore. Those days hurt the most. Everything hurts with Jaemin. Everything is painful and beautiful with him.

You shut your eyes, fists clenched — "I'm going home."

At the end of it all, you know that one of you is bound to be either the bomb, or the casualty.

###

"Open the door or you'll have to buy a new one tomorrow," is the threat that makes you let your best friend in even with a heavy heart. To be fair, the door is a beautiful one. You kind of think it's not worth getting the hardest question at the moment, though, when Donghyuck finishes his glass of water and suddenly asks; "Love letters can only keep your heart beating so long, what is so difficult to understand with that?"

He has a way of being blunt, and mostly it's not the best attribute he holds. Donghyuck has been careful with you in all aspects except the thing about Jaemin; he hates him with all he is, and that is odd because your best friend used to love the other. They had dance class together and were even in a team together until you two started hanging out and Donghyuck left; to keep you away, he said. He's no good for you, he said. It was everything but fair but you understand. Dance is one of Donghyuck's many dreams and if he quits it for this reason, you think it's pretty valid. Unnecessarily overdramatic, but still valid.

"I said, what is so difficult to unders—"

"None!" you hiss. "Heaven, Hyuck, none at all! Do you think I'm dumb? Of course, I know that!"

"Then why do you keep holding on?"

Why.. Would it disappoint you less if I tell you that at this point, I don't even know anymore? Because I do know, but the reason is probably better unsaid.

"It's all I have," you whisper, feeling smaller and smaller as time passes. You bite your lips to stop your sobs, "It's all he could give."

"All he wants is to break your heart."

"Then he got what he want," You wipe away your tears. Donghyuck laughs coldly; it's the last thing you need and it runs you over like a car on full-speed, washing over you like cold water. The sad song thrums in your veins. "He gets what he wants every second of the day."

He doesn't even need to ask, but I'll give him the entire world. If I can not give him the entire world, I would give up my whole being. Why would you think that I wouldn't let him break my heart every breath I take?

"He tells you he loves you because he can't accept those words as things he wants to say to Jeno — he does to you everything because he can't admit to himself that it's all he wants to have with Jeno." His brows furrow, "He's in love with Jeno and he can't accept that. He's with you because everything would be easier if he was in love with you instead, but he's not, and he's lyin— why can't you see that?"

But you can see it, it's about as clear as day. It shines above you like the sun and it touches you like ice against your skin, it's a book laid down without all the other riddles. You don't know why you stay — maybe it's his laughs, or his kisses, or his company, or your feelings. Maybe it's everything all at once.

"People see what they want to see," your voice breaks alongside your heart. "Perhaps, I am blind with him, Lee Donghyuck."

###

There's a place where reality is a bit altered and it's everywhere with him.

Maybe it was his bright eyes. Maybe it was his voice. Maybe it's the way he was your home someway; with him it's lightweight, with him it's all happy and too perfect for the both of you. Maybe it's his lies and the way they tangle almost seamlessly, perfect enough that it seems real.

There was a time back then, a faraway memory. The first time you two slept side-by-side, he laid beside the window, and the moon casted pristine shadows on his face. His hair was blonde then, and you both loved and hated the way it fanned like a halo as he laid against the silk-covered pillow. He was sleepy, and you do not know if the moment was meant for you, but it was also the first time he kissed you, and he asked you if you wanted him to love you more.

Yes, you said, testing the waters. Yes, you said, because it is what you want.

He laughed then and he opened his eyes, holding galaxies and untold stories; feelings that are yet to be put into words. "But I do know that I love you too much now, and it would ruin me to love you any more. It would break my heart if it beat for you faster. Do you want that?"

At that point you knew that it wasn't you he's seeing in his head, but yes, you still said, trying to know more. Yes, you still said, because maybe if you pretended hard enough, it will be true. It will be for you.

Jaemin's skin was akin gold, his lips reminding you suspiciously of cherries. "Good," he whispered with his voice something that should be God forbidden, addicting and sticking to you like remnants of honey, "I want that too."

That was place number one; that specific moment in his bedroom that changed your world for the best or the worst. This is place number two, standing somewhere unfamiliar, with him the dullest star you've ever seen. Only three months have passed when you ghosted him and you think he could qualify as a stranger, but he's all too familiar even when he's so... so different. Jaemin's eyes are tired, his skin pale. His smile remains radiant and smug, as blue as his dyed hair, worn in that kind of lazy way he always does.

He laughs, "Missed me?"

You shake your head, "No."

And with that came a step, and with that step you let the truth burn your throat in a manner so similarly strong and unpleasant as your first drink. You step on your feelings, the real ones, and you keep your gaze indifferent. The words echoed in your head as if to taunt you to say them, and you thank the moon that before you could, he crashes his lips with yours.

Carpe Diem. Seize the day. Make the most out of the present time. Run around in circles, pick your poison, pin wildflowers to your hair. Open a book and hide behind it. Adore a hopeless flame — know that you are running out of forever, be a ticking time bomb. Let this be good, maybe not great nor sweet, but let it be good and temporary. Know that someday you'll need something more than the blurred lines between lies and reality, feelings, or just the need for company. Fall in love with Na Jaemin.

[mcgrillzdumpinc]

Meeting with Masks

Summary: Nie Huaisang is beyond excited when he is invited to a Jin party including Carnival masks.  He doesn't expect to catch feelings at the party, but it's not so bad. Written for day 7 of SangCheng Month - First Meeting!

ao3 link

Pairing: Sangcheng, mentions of NieYao Rating: T Warnings: Mentions of queerphobia Word count: 1811

“The Jin invited us to a party.”

Nie Huaisang looks up from his phone just as Nie Mingjue tosses a letter on the dining table.  The envelope is crisp and cream, the flap decorated by gold filigree.  Nie Huaisang pulls out the invitation, which matches the envelope perfectly, and reads.  The party is actually a ball being hosted at the main Jin mansion, intended to celebrate Jin Zixuan’s twenty-first birthday.  Dress code is formal, drinks will be served, blah blah blah.  What really interests Nie Huaisang is the text at the bottom of the invitation, several font sizes larger than the main text and bolded to emphasize its importance—

Bring a Carnival Mask!

Nie Huaisang lets out a low whistle that quickly turns into giddy laughter.  “Da-ge!  Update the scoreboard!  The Jin are less crappy than the Yao now!”

“Because of the masks?” Nie Mingjue guesses very correctly because he is the best big brother ever.

“Yes!  Oh my god I’m going to have so much fun making your mask, da-ge!  Do you want to go intimidating?  Sexy?  Mysterious?”

“All white,” Nie Mingjue replies as he takes a black dry-erase marker to the scoreboard on the refrigerator.  “This party is stupid, anyway.”

“Booooo!” Nie Huaisang declares as he stands up, arms thrown into the air in protest.  “You’re boring!  The most boring da-ge!”

“I still get ass,” Nie Mingjue says with a smirk.

“Gross!!!!!”

~~~

Thankfully, the Jin (probably only Guangyao) had the foresight to send the invitation a few weeks in advance, so there was plenty of time for Nie Huaisang to research Carnival masks and start making one of his own.  To Nie Mingjue’s great pleasure, there was even a mask that fit his boring requirements.  So on the day of the ball, the Nie brothers arrive in hand-made and impeccable masks.

“Do you think anybody will recognize us?” Nie Mingjue asks as he readjusts his cape.  Yes, cape.  Nie Huaisang made him a bauta mask and Nie Mingjue, in his full jock-nerd glory, decided to wear the full historical garb, tricorn hat and cape and all.

Nie Huaisang rolls his eyes.  In contrast to his nerd brother, Nie Huaisang has opted to dress a little slutty in tight-fitted dress pants, a crisp white shirt unbuttoned to the middle of his chest, and black corset vest.  His neck, fingers, and wrists are decked out in green and gold jewelry, all polished to shine in the light.  He’s decorated his white mask in a similarly lavish fashion—gold lips, black eyes, gold and black filigree at the sides and top, and below the eyes is a series of gold hexagons that lead into teardrops.  “I hope not,” he responds to his brother.  “It’ll be way more fun surprising people.”

Together they walk up the many, many steps into the main Jin mansion.  After temporarily removing their masks to prove their identities, they slip inside.  The foyer is already alight with revelers, most of them likely entertainment hired to hype up the guests.  It’s only 7 p.m., after all, and only a select few people would be this drunk so early into the evening.  Unless the food or drink is spiked, in which case Nie Huaisang needs to find out for himself before he lets Nie Mingjue have a taste.

“Be careful with the food,” Nie Huaisang advises as he takes a glass of champagne from a passing waiter.

Perceptive as always, Nie Mingjue replies, “A-Yao knows the diet my doctor recommended.  He wouldn’t poison me.”

Maybe in the past he would have, but Nie Huaisang is pretty sure Jin Guangyao has a more vested interested in his Nie Mingjue’s health now that they’re dating.  Hopefully.  It’s hard to tell when it comes to the Jin.

“Still, be careful.  Yao-ge could’ve missed something.”

Nie Mingjue stares at him.  Even beneath the heavy mask, Nie Huaisang knows his brother is giving him a disbelieving look.

“You never know!” he defends as the duo reach their destination.

The ballroom is massive, large enough to house the entire population of a small town during a natural disaster.  True to pompous Jin nature, Jin Zixuan is seated at the far end of the ballroom on a stage.  Nie Huaisang knows it’s him because of the way he sits—the body posture of somebody who absolutely does not want to be there.  Twenty-one years and the poor guy is still not used to the way his family does things.

Nie Huaisang can sympathize.  He’s pretty different from the rest of his own family, too.

“I’m going to go find A-Yao,” Nie Mingjue speaks up over the orchestra music.

“Okay.  Make sure he taste-tests your food!” Nie Huaisang exclaims as he raises his mask to take a sip of champagne.

“Shove off!” Nie Mingjue scolds good-naturedly.

Nie Huaisang waves off his brother before heading into the crowd.  Looking around, there’s nobody he immediately recognizes.  There’s one guy in bright red wearing a plague doctor’s mask that keeps catching Nie Huaisang’s eye, but he quickly decides that tonight is not the night to bother with the crazies.  It’s generally good advice to follow when in Jin territory.

In time, Nie Huaisang finds himself a wallflower.  He’s not the most easily sociable person.  Friendly, sure.  But he’s never been good at approaching strangers.  He would have gone up to Jin Zixuan, but Nie Huaisang has no idea if the guy would lose it the second he saw a friendly face.  Which would be an entire headache if that did happen.  So, wall.

It’s been at least thirty minutes since he finished his champagne and he’s not feeling even slightly drugged, though.  So that’s good news for his brother.

Just as he’s considering finding the buffet, a stranger joins Nie Huaisang at the wall.  The stranger is tall, at least 8 centimeters taller than Nie Huaisang, and cuts an intimidating figure with broad shoulders and large hands.  Their loose, black hair is long, falling to about their shoulder blades, contrasting starkly to the orchid purple button-up shirt they wear.  The waistcoat they wear is a darker purple with black buttons.  Slung over their right arm is a formal jacket that matches the waistcoat.  Interestingly, their choice in bottoms is a pair of orchid purple pants, with the left side covered by an ankle-length black skirt.  Nie Huaisang finds himself smiling at that detail—as a person who’s still questioning, he can appreciate a challenge to the gender binary.

He looks up to meet the stranger’s eyes.  The stranger is looking back at him with a lovely pair of brown eyes.  It’s a shame that the rest of this handsome stranger’s face is hidden by what Nie Huaisang would call the creepiest of the traditional Carnival masks—a moretta.  Pitch black and perfectly round, it’s like a void has replaced the rest of the stranger’s face.  In the bright lights of the ballroom, Nie Huaisang cannot see any ties keeping the mask up, so the stranger has opted for the traditional way of wearing the mask—a button between their lips.  Even if they can talk, they have rendered themself effectively mute.

Still, though.  Nie Huaisang likes a challenge.  He introduces himself with a bow.

The stranger bows silently in return.

Nie Huaisang laughs to himself.  “Are you enjoying yourself?” he asks.

The stranger rolls their eyes.

“Yeah, Jin parties are like that for me, too.  They care way too much.”

The stranger raises their champagne glass, as if to say Cheers to that.

Nie Huaisang finds himself smiling.  “You know, I really wasn’t expecting a moretta mask, of all things.  It’s unique.”

The stranger doesn’t respond.

“Not a bad thing,” Nie Huaisang clarifies.  “But I’m curious.  Join me for a trip to the buffet?”

The stranger nods.  Nie Huaisang offers his arm and, after slipping on their jacket, they take it.  Together, they leave the crowded ballroom for the crowded hallways and manage to get themselves lost a few times before finally finding the buffet.

“Why the hell would they put it so far away from the ballroom?” Nie Huaisang grumbles as he moves to wait in line.  He hears the stranger laugh.  “I hope you remember the way back.  I’m terrible with directions.”

The stranger reaches up to remove their mask.  Underneath the void is a strikingly handsome visage, with sharp cheekbones and shapely lips.  Nie Huaisang very much wants to ravish them immediately.  “Don’t worry, I do,” they say with a rumbling, deep voice.

“Fuck you’re sexy,” Nie Huaisang utters with absolutely zero forethought.  Realizing his mistake, he slaps a hand over his mask’s mouth.  “I’m so sorry!  That just came out!”

The stranger looks equally flustered, their eyes avoiding Nie Huaisang’s as they mumble, “It’s okay.  You don’t seem like a creep.”

“I promise I’m not,” Nie Huaisang says as he removes his mask.  “Which I know sounds exactly like what a creep would say, but scout’s honor!  Not a creep!”

The stranger stares at him for a long second before saying, “You’re not so bad-looking yourself.”

Nie Huaisang manages to hide his fluster by announcing, “I better.  It took twenty tries to get this eyeliner right.”

The stranger snorts.  “Jiang Cheng, by the way,” they introduce themselves.

“Oh, shit.  You’re pretty important, huh?”  The Jiang hold a near-monopoly in all water-based trade in and out of their city.  Nie Huaisang’s parents have pretty regular contact with Jiang Fengmian and his wife Yu Ziyuan in the interest of not losing some important trade negotiations.  But, last he heard, Jiang Cheng was the Jiang’s son.  “Can I get your pronouns?”

“Any,” Jiang Cheng answers.

Ah.  “So the moretta mask is pretty symbolic, huh?”

“I’m out as genderfluid, but I’m not supposed to talk about it,” Jiang Cheng tells him with a notably flat affect.

Nie Huaisang frowns.  “That sucks.  I’m still questioning, but my family is pretty supportive.”

“My siblings are, too.  Supportive, that is.”  The duo reach the banquet table.  Nie Huaisang receives Jiang Cheng’s mask as the other starts preparing two dishes of food.  “My parents are trying, but you know how some people take queerness these days.  Anyway, should I not refer to you with he/him?”

“I’m still comfortable with those pronouns,” Nie Huaisang easily responds.  “Oh, get me some sausage.”  Jiang Cheng obliges.  “Honestly, I might just be on the gender-nonconforming side, but I’m not sure yet.”

Jiang Cheng smiles.  It brings an ethereal softness to their features that Nie Huaisang would love to kiss.  But he keeps his hands to himself as the two of them reach the end of the buffet table and hurry to find a spot to eat.  “It takes time,” Jiang Cheng says as they trade a plate of food for their mask.  “Hey, after this, want to dance?”

Nie Huaisang offers them a smile in return.  “Absolutely.”

[porkchop-ao3]

A Thrill I’ve Never Known (Chapter 34)

The Gilded Cage

We’re off to a party at the mayor’s house! I hope you like this one, guys :)

(All chapters tagged with #ATINK and also posted on Ao3, username PorkChop)

-

I regretted my decision to sit by the fire almost instantly. I'd made some oatmeal for breakfast and had wandered over, thinking the area was void of people; awake ones, anyway, Javier and Lenny were curled up asleep under the shelter opposite the log I'd chosen. I'd already committed to sitting there when I realised that Micah was there too, lounging under the shelter next to it, I hadn't registered him due to his stillness and silence, but when he moved to pull a drag from the cigarette he was smoking, I saw him. He was watching me, his face neutral, though erring towards a glare if I focused on the slight narrowing of his eyes and the way he did not look away when my eyes met his. 

"Morning, Micah," I said curtly.

Micah didn't answer, continuing to stare and smoke across the fire. His silence drew on, the crackle of the fire and Javier's quiet, occasional snore my only answer. My gut churned and I tried to focus on my breakfast, forcing it down, knowing my sudden loss of appetite didn't mean I wasn't hungry.

"I'd appreciate it if we could be civil," I said quietly, then took a mouthful of oatmeal. 

Micah scoffed. "Is a man not allowed to sit quietly and enjoy the morning peace without being accused of not being civil?"

"Sorry," I shook my head, not looking at him. 

He went quiet again, but after a while, he sighed. "Just so you know, I ain't sad. I ain't over here wallowing, feeling sorry for myself over you."

"I didn't think you were."

"You really ain't that special after all," he shrugged and I smiled to myself, thinking back to our conversation at the Parlour House where he'd said the exact opposite. I wasn't surprised he'd been saying it to butter me up.

"I know."

"Morgan's welcome to you," he muttered, flicking his cigarette away and standing up, strolling past me, "enjoy your breakfast," he added snidely. 

I looked up at him and watched his back as he left, his hand hooked on his belt, his gait slow and self assured. Conflict was not something that I enjoyed, but I found myself getting irritated by that stroll of his. I sighed and shook my head.

Footsteps approached from behind, and I looked up in time to see Arthur stepping over the log before sitting down beside me. He was carrying a letter in his hand, his eyes cast down towards it, a slight frown marring his brow. He didn't say anything in greeting. 

"Hello," I said curiously, and there was a pause before he responded distractedly. 

"Hey," he said, then after a moment he looked up at me, then handed me the letter.

"What's this?" I questioned, looking down to the bottom of the page where the letter was signed off. Mary.

"Mary's contacted me again. She's in the city, apparently, wants to see me again," he told me. 

I quickly skim read her letter, wincing at the words on the page, wondering why on Earth Arthur had given it to me. It was full of hopeless pleading, speaking of change and how Arthur could not seem to do it, how he could not be a man. She wanted his help again, it appeared, she begged. I handed it back to him when I was done, finished off the last of my oatmeal, all the while feeling Arthur's expectant eyes on me. 

"Well, she sounds like she's in a tricky situation of some sort. You gonna help her?" I asked, finally looking at him. He stared blankly for a moment.

"I don't know, I was sort of hoping you'd tell me what you thought I should do," he laughed a little. I raised a brow, unsure how to respond to that.

"Mary is your… friend. I can't tell you how to deal with her. I know last night you said you ain't had to do much thinking for yourself, Arthur, but this is one of those times you're gonna need to practice," I chuckled.

"I can't just go back to her, can I? Not when I'm with you. That wouldn't be fair. I ain't thought of her in ages, darlin', and I'm gonna get tired real quick if she's gonna keep seeking me out whenever she needs someone to do her dirty work," he grumbled, shaking his head and smacking the letter with the back of his hand in distaste. 

"Then don't go," I shrugged. His face contorted, my answer obviously not sitting right with him either.

"That's what I should do, ain't it?" He murmured, mostly to himself. He stared down at the letter, rubbing the dip below his bottom lip with the tip of his thumb. 

I watched him for a moment, then took a breath. "I won't be mad if you want to see her."

"I don't want to see her," he was quick to correct me, "but that don't mean I feel content with tossin' this letter and ignoring her. That wouldn't be right."

"Then go!" I laughed, though it wasn't full of humour. "Arthur, it's up to you. I can understand your decision either way, she ain't exactly making things easy for you."

"I'll go. I'll go and you'll come with me, you can meet her and we'll tell her about us. Like I said last time, maybe if she sees I've moved on she might feel contacting me asking for help all the time is inappropriate," he said. 

My lips parted, my heart thumping uncomfortably in my chest, eyes widening. Arthur didn't notice.

"I told her last time I couldn't drop everything for her and she needed to look elsewhere if she wanted an errand boy, that didn't sink in, clearly. So I guess it's come to this," he continued shaking his head, "she don't seem to understand that she puts me in a difficult position when she sends me letters like this, it pulls me right back to when she and I– it just don't feel good."

I dropped my focus to the glowing cracks in the wood of the campfire, trying to settle my anxiety, taking slow, quiet breaths. I saw Arthur look towards me from the corner of my eye, then heard him sigh.

"And it ain't fair on you," he added, then tossed the letter into the flames right in front of me, making me jump. 

For some reason I flinched, almost going to grab the letter out of instinct as if it had been an accident, but I caught myself. I turned my wide eyes to him.

"I'm sorry, angel," he whispered, "I'm not going. I shouldn't even think twice about it when I've got you I should be focusing all my attention on."

"Arthur, you don't have to be like this for me," I shook my head and he reached for my hand, cupping it between both of his, stroking the back of it with his palm, "she was your fiancé," I added.

"You knew about that?" He frowned, then shook his head dismissively. "Yeah, she was. Until she decided to call the whole thing off and marry some other feller, spitting on everything she and I had together." 

"I'm sorry," I breathed. 

"Well," he sighed, looking guilty, "it was a little more complicated than that. I weren't being totally fair, neither of us were innocent, we hurt each other. Anyway, I'm trying to move forward and build something with you, I refuse to let her make me keep one foot in the past, Lord knows I did that for too long." 

"If you're sure," I said, though I felt a little guilty being the reason he wanted to ignore her letter. It was Arthur's decision, though, however he made it.

"I'm completely sure," he lifted one hand to my cheek, stroking his thumb across the top of my cheekbone. He moved in to kiss me once. "I miss that hotel room already. Things were nice there, just me and you," he whispered when our lips parted, only for him to kiss me again right after.

Arthur tilted his head, deepening the kiss. All of my guilt and worry ebbed away, my heart rate slowed to a pace that was only elevated because of excitement, not anxiety, it thrummed more pleasantly in my chest, fluttering like the butterflies in my stomach. It was just Arthur and I, like nobody else existed for those moments. It didn't occur to me once where we were, until I heard a laugh. 

Arthur and I immediately broke away from each other and looked towards the noise; Javier was in the process of sitting up, just woken up, looking between us. 

"Don't let me disturb you," he teased, smirking, then got up and left us to grab himself some coffee. Regardless, Arthur and I put a little distance between us. Just because we weren't worried about keeping our relationship quiet anymore, it didn't mean we were going to start ramming it down everyone's throats. 

"Did you speak to Hosea and Dutch about the mayor's party?" Arthur asked after a short stretch of quiet. 

"Oh, yeah, well I spoke to Hosea. He said he'd ask Dutch, but he thought it was a good idea; said we'd look a little more upstanding if we had a lady in the group," I grinned, and Arthur chuckled.

-

Dutch took some convincing – mainly the work of Hosea – but eventually he came around to the idea of having me attend the party. There were conditions, however, we were there to work, to find leads, not simply to get a taste of high society life. He said it to me as if I was interested in that sort of thing, I told him not to worry, I'd already been working on my persona and a plan to seek out something worthwhile. He also warned me not to distract any of the other men while they were looking for their own leads, and that one almost made me roll my eyes. What did he take me for? 

So, all of us – Dutch, Hosea, Bill, Arthur and I – headed to Saint Denis to get ourselves cleaned up for the party. We went to the tailor's and each bought a new outfit for the occasion; I ended up in a ball gown the likes of which I'd never worn in my life. It was a salmon pink off-the-shoulder thing with a gathered, satin, wrap-around style bodice and wide skirt with more gathers at the front, the fabric lifted to reveal a layer of lighter pink satin underneath trimmed with lace. The dress was adorned with ribbons and bows and a ruffle on the bust that made me look more endowed than I really was, helped along by the corset that went with it that did an excellent job of pushing my breasts up till I could practically rest my chin on them.

Heading back to camp before the party saw me surrounded by the girls, Miss Grimshaw and Mary-Beth worked together to do my hair while the others (excluding Sadie, who was decidedly not interested in the ball and Molly, who was decidedly bitter that Dutch hadn't asked her to come) spoke excitedly about what a ball at the mayor's house might be like. I was nervous by the time I was ready and the sun was on its way down, and we were all piled into a stagecoach together on our way. 

I was crammed in between Bill and Hosea, sat opposite Arthur and Dutch. Hosea was talking about how he used to attend balls quite often, and I was surprised until he revealed it was more about pick-pocketing than anything else. We all shared a laugh.  

"Remember, we're here to make contacts. So, no pick-pocketing, no cons," Dutch began, looking to me before continuing, "well, loosely speaking. You see an opportunity to set something up, go ahead, but the point is we don't wanna attract any attention just yet."

"What sort of contacts we trying to make here?" Arthur questioned, shaking his head and seeming amused by the whole thing. 

"I guess we'll find out when we get inside," Dutch laughed, "we're heading into a party at the mayor's house where the guest of honour is the worst crook in town. Rest assured, Arthur, we're bound to find something."

I laughed, looking down at my hands, twisting a ring around that Tilly had lent to me for the occasion, taking a breath to calm my nerves.

"When we get there, Arthur and I will go in and reacquaint ourselves with Bronte, you fellers, go find somewhere quiet and we'll meet you out there. And you, my dear," Dutch continued, and I looked up when he addressed me, "you head into the party and start mingling. Use your womanly charm to get us some information about something we might be able to steal, some poor feller worth robbing, anything."

"Womanly charm," Arthur chuckled, but it seemed a little tense, "what's that supposed to mean?"

"It means a feller's more likely to trust an attractive young lady – or better yet, try to impress her – with some information about how well he's doing for himself, than he is a mean lookin' tough guy such as yourself," Dutch explained in a low voice, "and that is information we might be able to use."

I felt my face heat up at the way Dutch referred to me as an attractive young lady, especially when all the men in the coach turned to look at me at that moment precisely. Arthur's eyes stayed on me long after the others turned away.

"It's a fair point," Bill said. Arthur shrugged then looked back at Dutch.

"Fair enough. Now what am I doing?" Arthur asked.

"We'll figure that out once we get inside, we're here."

We arrived outside of the house, a beautiful place lit up and alive with the sound of music drifting onto the streets from what sounded like the garden around the back. We all climbed out of the stagecoach, and Bill awkwardly offered a hand to help me down after scrubbing it against his trouser leg, since he was the one who climbed out before me. I took it and thanked him, and he was quick to let go as soon as I was down safely, acting like it never happened. I chuckled to myself, and came to walk beside Arthur who was waiting for me. 

"You ready for this?" He uttered to me under his breath. A smile lifted my lips and I gave him a look of reassurance.

"Ready or not, we're heading in. We'll be fine," I told him, looking him up and down in his suit. 

Christ almighty, Arthur in a suit, now that was a sight I could get used to. He looked incredibly handsome, his hair slicked back with pomade, his beard freshly trimmed to a short, neat stubble. 

"You certainly scrub up well," I purred, and Arthur opened his mouth to speak, but was quickly distracted by one of the gentlemen standing at the front gate, greeting people. 

"I'm afraid the mayor doesn't allow guns at official functions after last year's incident," he was saying. Hosea and Dutch handed over their holstered weapons, and Arthur turned to do the same. 

My heart stopped and I glanced around nervously, wondering if I could get away with it or if it was worth the risk of keeping quiet. One of the gentlemen looked at me, raising a brow as he noticed my nervousness, and with an awkward cough I turned away from the group. I could feel their eyes on me as I – as discreetly as I could – lifted the hem of my skirt, gathered up my petticoats, and reached underneath to retrieve the revolver I had strapped to my thigh. I sheepishly handed it over, gaining a number of surprised looks.

"Well, a lady needs to be able to protect herself, don't you think?" I chuckled tensely, and eventually they all shrugged it off. 

"I suppose that's rather sensible," someone said. 

With that, we were ushered into the house. I fell into step beside Arthur, who was looking at me with an amused smile and lidded eyes. I flushed and chose not to say anything, feeling his hand go to the small of my back as we climbed the steps to the house. 

Hosea, Bill and I broke off from Arthur and Dutch when they went to meet Signor Bronte. Arthur had explained before we left that he was the one who'd invited us here, and he just about ran part of the city. He was also the one who was holding Jack, but Dutch had sucked up to him enough that that wasn't a problem… apparently. I personally found it very odd, but it wasn't my place to say anything.

I headed into the party just as Dutch had instructed. I stepped out of the back door onto the veranda that looked out across the garden. I took a moment to familiarise myself with the place; there were people everywhere, all lavishly dressed of course. There was a gazebo with a band playing right in the middle of it all, a huge fountain further up ahead. The garden was split up with raised planters bursting with exotic looking foliage and flowers, between which were various paved areas where the guests converged, all around buffets and candle lit tables. Lights were strung up above, bathing the place in a low glow, bright enough so you could make your way around but dark enough to maintain a strangely intimate atmosphere.

I hadn't been to any balls before, but I had to say, the place looked impressive even to me. 

I descended one of the sweeping staircases that curled around into the heart of the party, immediately being offered a glass of champagne by a gentleman holding a tray full of glasses. I gratefully took one, having a sip, my very first taste of champagne. I had to say, I wasn't all that impressed, though I drank it anyway to calm my nerves and give me a little more confidence. 

Glancing around the place, I honestly didn't know where to start. Looking for leads; I knew my objective but once I was faced with the prospect of carrying it out, I almost regretted coming. Luckily, I needn't pluck up the courage to make the first move to anyone because a man approached me, casually sliding in beside me, nibbling on an hors d'oeuvre of some description. 

"Good evening," he greeted me after finishing off the last bite. He was a tall, skinny man with a gaunt face and deep set eyes. Very pale skin dotted with freckles and bright orange hair slicked into a graceful sweep across his forehead. He was wearing a suit not dissimilar to the one Dutch was wearing… or any of the other men for that matter. There really was only so many ways to wear a suit, it seemed, rather boring compared to the variety in the women's gowns. There were some show-stoppers, for sure.

"Hello there," I replied, turning to face him. 

"Pleasure, the name's Michael," he offered his hand to me and met it with my own, he gave my fingers a gentle squeeze.

"Jemima," I told him. 

"Jemima," he repeated with a nod, "what a God-awful farce this is, don't you agree?"

"Oh, I'm afraid I just arrived. I haven't quite been here long enough to draw any conclusions," I laughed. 

"Darn, I was hoping I'd find someone to stand and complain with. You know, I'm only here because my social climber wife was invited. Yes, she's rather friendly with that man who makes the ugly hats, what's-his-name," he looked to me for an answer and I could do no more than stare blankly at him, "Wasp. What an awful name."

"Never met the feller," I shrugged, clearing my throat and scanning the place for an excuse to escape.

"Well I assure you he practically owes his living to me, with the number of hats my wife owns. You'd think she wanted to open up her own shop. And the size of some of them, I'll have to buy a second home just to keep the damn things," he tutted, shaking his head. "Anyway, she fits right in here, but I just can't stand these sorts of things."

"I suppose it's not for everyone," I mused.

"Right, she was stood talking to that man over there for twenty minutes when I left her to it. Some nonsense about art, he's a dealer or something, was trying to sell her some crap from Italy that I'll end up paying for, no doubt," he grumbled, gesturing to a gentleman now standing alone, picking at the buffet. 

I watched him for a moment, thinking. 

"That woman'll be my ruin, I'm sure of it, bleed me dry," Michael said under his breath, and I looked at him with raised brows. He caught my eye and sighed, "sorry, I've been hitting the champagne hard since we got here, I've said enough. I'll leave you to it. Have a pleasant evening," he said monotonously, then skulked off.

I noticed Arthur pouring champagne for a group of ladies nearby and smiled, then wandered over there. He grinned when he saw me, and topped up my glass. 

"Thank you, sir," I said, and he shook his head in amusement. 

"What did Dutch say about distracting the fellers?" He teased me. 

"I'm distracting you? Why I'm just saying hello," I nudged him, sipping my drink. "How is Mr. Bronte?"

"He's…" he began, trailing off as he struggled to sum the man up, "well, I'm just glad you haven't had to meet him."

"Oh, that bad?"

He made a humming sound. "Who was your new friend?" He gestured in the vague direction of Michael. I laughed and shook my head.

"An unhappily married complainer, was about my take away from the conversation," I told him, "but, he gave me an idea, so it wasn't all bad." 

"Yeah?" He looked at me, intrigued.

"Yeah," I smiled, "what about you?"

"Well, I need to speak to the mayor," he said, nodding over towards the fountain where a group of men were standing, one of them must've been him, though I couldn't tell you which one. 

"Oh! I'll leave you to it, then," I rubbed his upper arm, pausing to feel the muscle there when it captured my attention, before turning to leave. Arthur caught my arm before I could walk away. 

"You look incredible. Just thought I should tell you that," he said under his breath.

A smile burst across my face, "thank you, sweetheart." 

Arthur smiled at the nickname, sliding his hand down to squeeze mine, his eyes turning soft and warm and lovely. Before I could get carried away, he let me go, and we each went our separate ways so we could get on with our jobs. I walked towards the man Michael had pointed out to me as an art dealer, flashing him a little smile and waiting for him to smile back before committing and closing the distance.

"Hi, lovely to meet you, Jemima Jones," I introduced myself, offering my hand and having him shake it. 

"Leighton Pleasants," he said in an English accent, then glanced down at my attire, "what a lovely dress."

"Oh, thank you. It's brand new for the occasion, I couldn't resist spending a little money once I knew I'd be coming to the mayor's house," I giggled, and Leighton's smile widened, "speaking of, I heard you are a collector of artwork, or something along those lines?"

"Ah, yes, something like that. I have rather an impressive collection if I do say so, though a lot of the buying I do is for the purpose of passing it along to those who will treasure it. Do you have an interest in art?"

"I suppose you could say that. I enjoy filling my home with work that the guests can enjoy, I host a lot of parties, you see. I bought a painting on the recommendation of a dealer in Paris a few years back and ever since then I've been hooked. The looks on people's faces when I unveil a new piece!" I touched his arm and gave a happy sigh. "Truthfully, I know nothing about art, but my guests often do. I'm always on the lookout for new and exciting work."

"Oh, really? Well, in that case I believe I might be your new best friend."

"Or I may become yours," I flashed him a mischievous grin and watched as he chortled. 

"Well, I have a new shipment of artwork coming in from Italy, due next week. It's certainly new and exciting, it's by this up and coming artist–"

"Oh, save the sales pitch until I'm seeing the work," I cut him off, "how do you do business, Mr. Pleasants? Do you have a gallery nearby?"

"Actually, I tend to hand pick artwork for my clients and bring a selection to their home, let them display the work in their desired location to really give them a sense of what they're getting," he explained, making grand gestures with his hand at something in his imagination appearing right in front of us. 

"Oh, well, that's certainly a personal service," I hummed, pursing my lips, "but I think I'd prefer to see everything you've got, especially this new shipment. Don't you have a gallery?"

"Well, I have a building that I keep all of the work in, though it's not so much a gallery as it is a warehouse," he admitted, wearing a hesitant expression, "a private building in the city for security purposes, it's not a pretty place, but it is highly secure and the artwork is kept safe and pristine for potential buyers."

"Oh, I don't mind what the building looks like, just the art. Perhaps you'd allow me to visit? Just give me a time and the place and I won't be any trouble, I'd just like to have a look," I bargained, but he didn't look enthusiastic, he frowned and chewed on his lip. 

"I'm afraid I can't, the building is very secure and there is a lot of money's worth of art there, it's not that I believe you're untrustworthy, I just cannot bring clients there. It's more my partner's rule than my own, you understand, don't you?" He apologised, and I let out a sigh, pouting glumly. 

"Fine, I get it. Can't be too careful, I suppose. Well, what if you do what you normally do and bring me some paintings to look at? If you don't mind, I'd rather view them at a hotel, so my husband doesn't find out I'm spending all our money again," I laughed, and he visibly relaxed. 

"I suppose I can manage that," he nodded, smiling at me, eager to keep me keen, "what sort of art are you after?"

"How about you bring me that Italian work? I'm not too picky, if it's new and popular, I'm all for it," I suggested.

"Well, in that case, I think you'll be very pleased."

"May I ask that you bring the work to the Saint's Hotel in Valentine? I know it's a bit of a ways away, but trust me, it's closer than my home," I chuckled.

"Valentine? That's no problem at all my dear. The paintings will be arriving in Saint Denis next Friday, so perhaps we could set the viewing up for Saturday morning?" 

"Evening would be better for me, I think," I pondered. The roads would be quieter, I thought.

"Evening it shall be, then. Shall we say six o'clock, next Saturday, at the hotel in Valentine?"

"Absolutely!" I offered my hand to him again and he shook it. 

"Wonderful!" 

A moment later, a loud bang rang out across the sky. I was a moment away from ducking for cover, but I saw the burst of light in the air above us, a shower of colourful sparks, followed by many more. Fireworks!

"How beautiful," I breathed, mostly to myself. 

The sky lit up with explosion after explosion, everyone stopped in their tracks and watched the display. Sounds of awe surrounded me as the crowd enjoyed the beauty going on overhead. Part of me wished that Arthur was standing next to me so we could enjoy them together, I wondered if he found them as pretty as I did. 

It occurred to me then, as I enjoyed that small moment of peace where I didn't have to think of anything but the celebrations going on around me, that it was my birthday. I'd honestly forgotten. I smiled to myself, figuring that attending a fancy ball, never mind the purpose of doing so, had been a memorable experience for a birthday to say the least.

-

"I've never felt so awkward in all my life," Bill was grumbling once we were all back in the coach heading back to camp after the party. He carried on muttering about how awful the party was, much to my amusement. I kept quiet, though, only smiling to myself as to not rile him up further. I'd spotted him ambling about the place in his too short pants, wondering what to do with himself. He was a fish out of water in that place.

I realised Bill had stopped complaining when Arthur handed a piece of paper to Dutch, who's eyes seemed to light up at whatever it was. It seemed like we'd come away with a few decent leads; Hosea might've found a bank to rob, Dutch mentioned a trolley station and a poker game on a boat that could be of use. I waited until we were clear of the party to explain my findings, and Dutch didn't hesitate to ask me what I'd been doing as soon as there was a lull in the conversation on the way home. 

"Did you find anything of interest, my dear?" He asked casually, he almost sounded as if he wasn't hopeful.

"I believe I did, if you have a couple men free next Saturday evening," I began, and Dutch raised his brows with intrigue. 

"Oh?" 

All four men looked at me interestedly. 

"I got talking with this art dealer, I arranged to view some paintings. He's bringing them up from Saint Denis to Valentine, so my thinking was you fellers could intercept somewhere along the way and take them off his hands," I explained, looking between Hosea and Dutch in particular for approval, "preferably without putting a bullet in him," I added.

"Paintings?" Hosea repeated, then gestured to Arthur, "Seamus'd know what to do with those. You could take them to him."

Arthur nodded thoughtfully.

"I think they're worth a fair bit," I told them, and Dutch hummed.

"Not bad," he appraised, then glanced at Arthur, "could be one for you and Lenny. Maybe one more."

"Take John with you," Hosea suggested.

"Alright. Well done, I knew you'd make yourself useful," Arthur smiled at me, and my heart fluttered with pride.

[screensirenfic]

Black Leather - Chapter 33

We all arrived at Joyce’s house around the same time; Jonathan rushing in first to place an unconscious Will on the couch, and I was beginning to wonder what exactly happened in that lab.

They were meant to be helping the kid; not hurting him, but something about staring at his limp body just lying there made me feel sick.

Maybe it was too much of a reminder of Sara.

I tried not to think of her too much; her cute little pigtails and bright blue eyes painful to picture, even now.

The memories of the hospital were worse; her pale sunken cheeks, her head void of hair; looking more like a Holocaust victim than the bouncing, smiling little girl she used to be.

That’s one of the reasons we’d been so eager for Eleven to grow her hair out; the short stubble still too close a trigger of long evenings in the hospital, faking smiles and holding back tears because she couldn’t know the truth.

Dad had been on the phone for the last half hour, yelling down the line at what I guessed was was army, though clearly not getting anywhere.

They didn’t believe him.

Fuck; who would?!

This shit was crazy and I was the one living it! It didn’t matter if you were a cop, or a scientist, or the fucking president himself; nobody listened when you started with crazy talk.

“Hey.” Steve pulled me from my thoughts as he propped himself against the wall next to me.

Funny how he always seemed to know the right moment to cut in, just before I dragged myself too deep into my thoughts and risked drowning in them.

“Hey.” I replied; not really feeling up for conversation, but grateful for the distraction anyway.

“You feeling alright?” He asked; that soft concern in his voice overly familiar by now.

“Yeah; I’m fine. Why wouldn’t I be?” I tried to fake a smile, but it fell flat.

Probably didn’t matter anyway; Steve could always see through those.

“You seem a bit quiet...” Steve continued with his angle; turning his body so he could face me and look at me with those deep thoughtful brown eyes.

“I’ve got a lot on my mind...” I admitted with a harsh laugh, because it was true as of late. Between El and dad and Billy and now all this shit, my mind was fit to burst.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” He asked; always to lend a sympathetic ear to me, no matter what the problem.

“I’d... rather not.” I brushed him off, though the slightly downtrodden look on his face hurt me more than it should.

He was only trying to help, and God knows I could really use someone to talk to about all this bullshit, but that couldn’t be Steve.

He was too close to the centre, and I couldn’t afford to get him hurt.

He meant too much to me for that to happen.

“Let’s just go wait with the kids...” I offered, pushing up from the wall and walking into the kitchen, because all the sullen faces in here were beginning to get to me.

———————————————

The kids were gathered at Joyce’s kitchen table, looking more like depressed pensioners, than what had previously been overexcited children.

It was almost sad; really. What had started out as one of their fantasy adventures made real, had turned into another grown up nightmare that they just wanted to wake up from.

The tallest kid; Mike, Nancy’s brother I think, got up from his seat, walking over to a cardboard box of what looked like junk.

“Did you guys know that Bob was the original founder of Hawkins AV?” The kid asked as if it was common trivia, and not the total out-of-the-blue question it seemed to me.

“Really?” Lucas responded, taking his eyes off the kitchen table to watch Mike pick up a weird cube off the top of the box.

“He petitioned the school to start it and everything. And then he had a fundraiser for equipment.” Mike replied with newfound enthusiasm as he turned back towards us.

“Mr Clark learnt everything from him. Pretty awesome, right?”

The kids all nodded in halfhearted agreement, like me; clearly not on the same page as the lanky tween.

“We can’t let him die in vain.” Mike stated, launching into what I already knew through experience was a hero speech to rock the ages.

“Well; what do you wanna do Mike?” Dustin snapped; for once being the one to offer sense in all this.

“Alright; the Chief’s right on this. We can’t stop those Demodogs on our own.”

“Demodogs?” Max repeated, expressing the confusion we all shared.

“Demogorgon - - Dogs - - Demodogs. It’s like a compound. A play on words—“ Dustin clarified as if its the most obvious thing in the world.

“I mean; when it was just Dart, maybe…”

“But there’s an army now.” Supported Lucas, and I began to wonder when middle schoolers became such nihilists.

“Precisely.” Agreed Dustin; these two back to being best buds again.

“His army...” Mike stated; a dark sense of realisation crossing his face.

“What do you mean?” I asked, picking up that the tween leader just had one of those rare lightbulb moments.

“His army.” Mike repeated with weighted words, despite the confusion of the rest of the party.

“Maybe if we stopped him; we can stop his army too...” Mike suggested perhaps the simplest of solutions.

So simple; a child had actually come up with it.

So simple; it might actually work.

———————————————-

For two fully grown responsible adults, and four less easily defined teenagers to be following the plan of a bunch of thirteen year olds; we must be desperate.

I mean; it wasn’t like it was a bad plan. We use Will to get to the Mind Flamer... Flayer... thing. If I thought of it in a military sense; it was actually half decent.

A round of interrogation with a good helping of good cop, bad cop; it all seemed pretty solid.

Dad had to work out the kinks, but for the first time tonight; I could breath a sigh of relief, because for once; the whole world was resting on somebody else’s shoulders.

We’d prepped the shed as a impromptu interrogation chamber; the small dark space surprisingly indistinct beneath a layer of newspaper and duck tape.

Of course; I wasn’t to sit in on the interrogation.

That privilege went to family and close friends; with the exception of my dad, because someone here had to know what they’re doing.

Instead I was sat in the house with Nancy, Steve and the kids, trying not to feel like sitting ducks whilst the looming threat of possible annihilation hung over us.

Steve was working on his baseball swing, sweeping his nailbat in wide arcs as if fending off some invisible enemy.

“You alright there? You look a little tense?” I asked; noticing the tight rise of his shoulders as he made each swing.

“I’ll feel better once I know those things are dead.” Steve replied without a hint of his usual humour, and if Steve was somber; we must really be in trouble.

“If he finds out where we are; will he send those things after us?” Max asked, sounding genuinely nervous for the first time tonight.

“He won’t find us.” Lucas assured her with far more conviction than he had any right to, and I was reminded why young love was so foolish; always making promises you can’t keep.

“Yeah; but if he does...” Max continued her train of thought; fear clouding her mind from all reassurances.

“Judgement day.” Lucas stated ominously, and I tried not to dwell on the truth in the statement, knowing all too well the odds we were up against here.

—————————————————-

Twenty minutes of thumb twiddling later; I was really starting to believe this whole plan had been a dud and it was time to start packing our bags and moving to Nebraska.

Then dad walked in with that steely look of determination in his eye, Joyce and Jonathan following close behind, and I knew they’d managed to crack the kid.

“What happened?” Dustin asked as dad snatched a sheet of paper off the wall, before taking a seat at the kitchen table.

“I think he’s talking. Just not with words.” Dad replied, scribbling a series of dots and dashes on the paper.

“Hey; what is that?” Steve asked; reaffirming he was the slowest in the group.

“Morse code.” We all stated, silencing him as my dad began to translate the code into English.

“H - E - R - E...” Dad stated as he wrote down each letter; the red crayon nearly bending with the force he held it with.

“Here.” Mike read; triggering a series of looks between Joyce and Jonathan.

“Will’s still in there. He’s talking to us.” Dad clarified; the meaning of that sentence finally striking home.

It worked!

The kids’ fucking shitpile of a plan worked!

And with it; we were gonna kill this monster for good this time.

[edmund-valks]

What Lies Beneath... the Barn

“Wait, if you can think of that, why do you need me?”

Ilandreline brushed dark hair back from her sweat-slicked brow, carefully pouring molten metal into gear molds.  “Because I can only do the calculations, not the actual magic.  Also I would prefer to be able to validate it before I get my friends sucked into terrifying cosmic voids.”

She was really glad for this setup, even more glad that nobody seemed to notice she’d built a basement into the barn using a disintegrating arcanodrill while they’d been off engaging in weird things like “commerce”, whatever that meant.  Not that she didn’t know what the word meant, but.  Is my internal dialogue supposed to be this bad?  No, it’s not.  Maybe you’re not as smart as you hoped.  Fair.

“Anyway,” she said aloud, setting the fresh gears to quench, “you’re the only one I know who even cares about my planar work, much less understands how to use it in this fashion.  You already made it better, remember?  That second letter of yours?”  She spared a glance for the other elf, trying to gauge her reaction.

Perched on a corner of her workbench, the diminutive ren’dorei was… blushing?  Either that or suffocating; her cheeks were flushed a soft violet rather than her whole face, so presumably it wasn’t asphyxiation.  “Well, I mean, anyone could have if they-”

“If you finish that sentence I’m going to hit you with a wrench.”

She stopped so fast her teeth clacked.

The Fence Macabre’s resident -- whether they knew it or liked it -- engineer continued.  “If anyone could do it, then I’m a fool for not having done it myself, and I’m pretty sure you didn’t just call me a fool.  And second of all, no, they couldn’t have, so stop trying to downplay your work.  You’re smart about this stuff and you’ve got a unique perspective.  You’re a valuable colleague and I’d love for you to be a co-author when I publish this theory.”

More colour rushed to her cheeks, making Sentua look something like a blueberry.  Poor thing!  Whatever the ren’dorei had done to themselves, it had really screwed them out of any fashion choices they may have liked beforehand.  Red and gold just… didn’t… with that complexion.

“I… would like to be published with you, thank you.  Are you sure- Wait, of course you are, otherwise you wouldn’t have said it, right?”  She took several deep breaths.  “Sorry.”

Ila shook her head.  “Don’t worry about it.  You about studied up, ready to try out the first one?”

“Um.  Let me take one more look at the diagram and re-check the math.  Then I’ll go over the runes again.”

“Sure thing, take your time.  I got a bunch of these brass bastards to make anyway.”  Anyone from the Fence who wasn’t her was unlikely to have any idea why she was making multiple copies of something that was already built.  That was probably for the best.  Nobody else really seemed to appreciate the old grandfather clock the way she did.

While she worked, her visitor did exactly as she’d said she would, tracing the structure they’d slowly developed using extraplanar theoretics combined with several known nexus points.  If they’d had access to a superior medium (who wasn’t also wholeheartedly opposed to their purpose), maybe they would have been able to determine if it was going to work without having to craft a prototype.  But what would be the fun in that?

Well, it would certainly involve less child endangerment.

Hey!  That’s not fair, she’s an adult!

...In human years, yes.  How old is she?  Twenty?

Twenty-three?  Give or take a year.

This is wildly irresponsible parenting!

I’m not her parent!

Good point.  It’s really irresponsible of them to let her hang out with someone like us.

No kidding!  What are they thinking!

“Okay, I’m getting started now.  Try to keep quiet and stay over there.  I’m… not sure what this is going to look like when I get it going.”

That made two of them.  Ilandreline very casually moved behind a thickly armoured panel she used in case one of her iron molds exploded.  “Righto, let ‘er rip, Senny!”

Despite her youth, she sure looked like she knew what she was doing.  Having grown up around an assortment of arcane manipulators (as well as normal manipulators), Ila could usually follow spellwork as it happened.  She was utter rubbish at it herself, but that was why she’d done theoretical work.  That way she never had to prove anything except on paper.

The interweaving runic designs began flaring to life, unexpectedly nightblue with pinpricks of starlight within them.  A brief peek without her goggles in place confirmed that wasn’t a trick of the lenses, it was the Real Deal.  Since she had no idea what it meant, if anything, the sin’dorei kept waiting and watching.

A subaural thrum filled the air, slowly building intensity.  Sentua seemed unbothered, continuing to do… whatever a wizard did during a lengthy ritual.  Concentrate or something.  The vibration became more sensible until it started to feel like her teeth were going to rattle from her skull.  Then it stopped and things got weird.

When your family was exiled due to a misunderstanding involving the regular sacrifice over centuries of sentient beings to dark powers, you grew up with a different baseline for weirdness from others.  As a result, this wasn’t the weirdest thing Ila had ever seen, but it was certainly up there.  She pulled her goggles off to see with the tainted vision that same “misunderstanding” had gifted her.

Portals were opening and clothing, like mouths made of eyes, evaporating as soon as they formed.  A loop made of itself (what?) turned outside-in until they disappeared inside it.  Eyes of darkness flared against the backdrop of interminable void within one of the gaping portal-maws and she felt uncomfortably seen.  Maybe I messed up the math after all.

A crackle of power flared through the starlight rune-circles, drawing constellations like the antipodal counterpart of what she’d seen in drawings from Ulduar.  This was a place she recognized, but not in a way she’d experienced it before.  There was the old, familiar whisperings, comforting as ever, slipping over and through her being with their gentle rubberiness.  The sensation of being watched, as always, and knowing what was heard wasn’t her own thoughts; just another day looking at what the authorities of Silvermoon had called “the wrong side of things” when they’d been exiled a couple hundred years back.

The ache in her jaw was new, though.  And… getting worse.  Something was affecting the pressure in the room.  Maybe I should open the door up to the barn, help equalize it?  Ilandreline tried to move but her body wouldn’t respond right.  She tried to talk but nothing came out.  The air felt like molasses, though, and it started to… ooze… into her open mouth in one of the more unpleasant sensations she’d ever encountered.

This is definitely bad, this is going to keep increasing until we pop like overfed ticks.  It wasn’t a comforting thought.  She’d die like she’d lived, though: making bad decisions with dangerously undertested experiments.  Her jaw was being forced wider and wider, until it felt like it was going to pop out of its socket.  Then something did pop and there was a roar like an entire storm’s worth of thunder if it was packed into a giant’s sneeze.

Wetness -- blood?  Probably! -- trickled from her ears, but she could close her mouth again.  She did so, gingerly, rubbing at it.  “Faoh,” she mumbled, unable to make real words quite yet.  Her brain didn’t want to form them, her mouth couldn’t.  She blinked far too often for several minutes before recovering enough to replace the tinted lenses through which she typically viewed the world.

Sentua was still standing, looking… mostly normal.  Maybe slightly dazed; half catatonic?  No more than that, maybe only a quarter.  But she was also grinning like the cat who’d eaten a smaller, weaker cat to gain its feline prowess.

“Ah wubna!” she said in triumph.

“Fwah?” was Ila’s response as she stuck her little finger into an ear, trying to pry loose the inability to understand.  It came back covered in what was definitely blood, possibly with a little extra something she didn’t want to think about too closely.

The ren’dorei worked her jaw a bit, then tried again.  “I did it!”  The words formed right that time, managing to get through the sticky haze in Ila’s ears.  “I don’t know if it worked, but it went off just like we expected it to.”

“Hleva nuhs!”  Frowning, she slapped herself once, then a second time, harder.  Wiggling her jaw from side to side, she formed the words very deliberately.  “Ve...ry… nice.”  Moving over to where the first pocket watch -- more staggered, really, as if she was quite drunk -- Ilandreline examined it.  It looked right.

She turned it just so, opened a back panel to look into the mirrored surface there, checking behind her.  And sure enough, just as she’d hoped, there was the leering grin of a lurking specter, axe poised and with a hungry look in its eyes.  “Hey, fella!  Good to see you again.  We made you portable.”  She laughed, gave a wink that the cursed entity could never see.  “Look out, world!  The Fence Macabre has portable curse detectors now!”

Her new partner came to look over her shoulder and practically jumped out of her skin.  Sentua glanced hurriedly back to the real world then into the gleaming silvered expanse.  “This… this is what you were trying to do?”

“Absolutely!”

“But… why?”

Ilandreline just stared for a moment.  She didn’t understand why people kept asking that.  It was clearly a great idea.  “Because why wouldn’t you want to be able to see what kind of horrific spirits are lurking in an area?  This is a much more portable form of the curse, one that can be replicated multiple times using the demiplanar transpositionalities we derived, augmented through a series of linking and magnifying matrices.  So long as I keep at least half of the original gears in the grandfather clock, I can use the rest to create portable horror viewers!”

Sentua stared at her for rather a long time.  It got awkward.  Eventually she shrugged, though, which was probably for the best.  “Well, as long as you’re happy and it works, I guess that’s good enough for me!  I think I’m gonna go home and sleep, though, if that’s okay.”

“Yeah, absolutely.  Get your rest, that was probably pretty draining.”  She grinned, squeezed the young elf in a one-armed hug.  “And be proud!  You did great.”

“Thanks!  I… don’t know if replicating a curse into multiple other objects was what I thought I’d be doing, but at least it confirmed our theories.”  She grinned weakly, then stumbled off to the designated teleportation corner, keying one of her completion-tokens to zap her back home.

Ilandreline kept turning the pocket watch over, chuckling.  It didn’t tell time worth a damn, but she didn’t care about that.  It had worked.  And she was going to be published again for that work, damn it, preferably somewhere that would absolutely irritate her parents to no end.

Truly, she was living her best life, and it was all thanks to the Fence.

[puttingfingerstokeys]

[untitled]

Nanowrimo day 17 Featuring Dante from the Devil May Cry(tm) series, and Vergil Dark fantasy, horror, demon...shit? Devil May Cry, violence, hell stuff, implied nonconsensual stuff Unfinished and unedited

“Ya think we did the right thing, Verg’? Leavin’ the kid behind like that, I mean…” Dante wasn’t the kind of man who doubted himself often. His decisions were, in general, ironclad. At the very least, he was an individual of particularly steely character and was more than content to live with his mistakes. He was even content to live with others’ mistakes. 

“Yes,” came the short, sharp response. To Vergil, there was no other option. Hell was not a place for a young man with a family. He did not know the girl, but he understood that Nero was very fond of her. Leaving Kyrie behind would have devastated her. Humans are fragile creatures, he mused coldly, forgetting conveniently, at least for the moment, the he was half human himself. It was easy to forget that here in this dark place of discordant energy.

It was a plane of lightless eternity, stretching out in all directions. Walking one way often yielded other terrain, but nothing remotely resembling something alive. Pools of blood stood stagnant where a puddle might have been in the human world. Blood rained from the sky above, which looked at times like the vaulted ceiling of a massive cave and other times resembled a vast expanse of void. 

As lonely as it was, they were always being watched. Once the Qliphoth had been destroyed, the demonic attacks had all but subsided and the brothers found themselves hunting the beasts for sport. They ran at the very sound of the twins’ voices. It was becoming monotonous. 

“Just ‘yes’? No monologue?” 

“Did you want one?” Vergil’s patience was perpetually wearing thin. Dante knew this damn well and prodded every chance he got. He loved getting a rise out of Vergil, seeing the color appear on sharp cheekbones and the set of his handsome jaw. It meant the guy was alive and that he could feel. That he had always been able to did not escape Dante; it was not for himself that he did this. Vergil needed to know and remember that he, too, was a half-breed, more than capable of feeling loss and love and everything that came with being a living, breathing being. 

Despite what he had done, Dante had long since forgiven him, regardless of whether or not the man had asked. Dante knew he never would and so was not waiting for it. He had simply resolved in his mind to let it all go, to toss it aside like so much chaff that simply did not matter in the grand grinding wheel of their lives. He was just glad to be with Vergil. 

“Okay fine,” Dante conceded, shrugging and lifting his arms to arch his back and stretch as they walked the lonely, empty plains of the demon world. 

The ease of his concession had Vergil on edge almost instantly. Dante never gave up like that. There had to be something more to it. He was always playing games. Each movement was part of an elaborate dance step that only Dante himself seemed to know and he was not sharing. Vergil never would have admitted to anyone but himself (and even that admission was skeletal) that his brother had always enraptured and fascinated him. 

“You’re giving up…?” Vergil was poking the hornet’s nest now, but his own incessant curiosity would not allow him to leave well enough alone. They were alike in this, yet another fact he would never admit to anyone, and it chafed him something fierce. That he could not control it only served to further irk Vergil. 

“Yup,” responded Dante, popping the final letter for extra emphasis. “You clearly don’t wanna elaborate, so who am I to prod?” 

You always prod! Vergil’s mind screamed. Through sheer force of his not inconsiderably willpower, Vergil managed not to say a word and grunted instead, nodding minutely as if utterly uninterested in Dante’s lack of interest. This, too, was part of the game. How long could each brother hold out? Who would emerge victorious? Everything was a contest between the two of them. Everything.

Overhead, the “sky” or whatever it was, rumbled with a hollow, metallic sort of intonation. The blood rain was incoming. Vergil disliked the feeling of it on his skin and clothes and immediately scanned the area with a practiced eye for some clue to the direction of a cave or even a feeble outcropping underneath which they could take shelter. A tug on his elbow alerted him that Dante had caught sight of such a place and indeed, when Vergil turned his attention, Dante was already jogging that way.

The rumble resounded again, sounding more like a growl than any kind of storm. Vergil ducked into the cave opening just as the first red, stinking droplets began to fall. He grimaced and crouched near the entrance, watching it fall across the seemingly uninhabited landscape. This was nothing like he remembered it, but then, maybe it was because he was with Dante. The demon world had a tendency to shift, depending on the mental state (and physical state) of its occupants. Perhaps he was seeing this version because he was not actually dead. The theories were endless, but right now, he had neither the desire nor the equipment to test them. Instead of bothering with it, therefore, Vergil settled back, propping Yamato on his shoulder and turning his attention to Dante, who was similarly enraptured with the strange scenery.

The cave itself was supremely dark, though not terribly deep. Given the demons’ fear of them, it was unlikely to be occupied. That was all the better for anything that might have wanted to live here, because Dante and Vergil would have made quick work of it. 

“Last time I was here, it was a whole lot hotter,” Dante said, as if speaking only to himself. Vergil’s brow rose. 

“You were here?” 

“Well, if here is the demon world or whatever… and if it’s the same one every time, though I’m really kinda startin’ to doubt that right about now…. Then yeah, I was. It was probably twenty years ago, though.”

Vergil wondered how someone like Dante ended up here. They had made war upon each other in a nexus-like half-plane, essentially within the hellgate bridge created by the Temen-ni-Gru around thirty years prior. Between then and now, Vergil had spent all of his time here, save the last month or so. He, therefore, should have been the authority on the demon world and its denizens and manifestations. He was not. 

“I barely remember it, honestly,” Dante added after a moment, in a tone that suggested not only did he remember it vividly, but it plagued him whenever he closed his eyes, haunted his nightmares, and infected his waking world when he wasn’t otherwise occupied. Vergil did not press. He was the last person to judge based on that. 

“You followed something in, I’ll assume,” Vergil supplied. This coaxing manner was rather in the same vein as Dante’s prodding. It had a similar result, in general, anyway. When he saw Dante nod, he knew he had struck some kind of chord. “A demon, or…”

“I don’t know what it was, Vergil,” the response was sharp, harder than Dante had intended and he withdrew a moment with a mumbled few words that sounded like “it doesn’t matter”. Vergil laughed through his nose, the sound muted by the rain outside. Nothing Dante had experienced in this horrid place could have possibly held a candle to the torments Vergil had suffered. That was a matter of time spent here, rather than opinion. But Vergil was not about to play pain olympics with something that clearly distressed his brother. Any other time, he might have mocked and jeered, in his way, but right now, that felt… wrong.

“You’ve gone willingly into the demon world twice,” Vergil pointed out. The Temen-ni-Gru had not been fully submerged, as it were, and whatever Dante had found during his battle with Mundus had been similarly positioned, a sort of Hell Lite. Mundus had been trying to push through, in all fairness, so Dante had not been forced to immerse himself. That was fortunate, because the area where the demon king Mundus held court was far worse than wherever the Qliphoth’s branches had been positioned. This place was a paradise, all things considered. 

“So have you,” Dante pointed out, his tone softening from the defensive, choked timbre it had taken on when Vergil tried coaxing a story or two out of him. That he was so reticent to share said all that was needed on the subject of how much it had affected him. Dante’s fearless, indomitable spirit had shone through just about everything life had thrown at him. Clearly this was just a step farther than he was able to push himself. Everyone has their limits, Vergil reasoned, I guess he does, too.

It was a strange thought, considering his insufferable twin was… well, insufferable, incorrigible, and constantly ready, willing, and able to dog Vergil’s every movement. He guessed that, in a way, he had invited this attention upon himself, given his propensity for causing havoc, not least of which had been his mad grab for power, planting the Qliphoth and siccing it on a city full of strangers. He did not think of them as innocents, however; even now, they were merely faceless nobodies. Dante would not change his mind on that, either.

Point of fact, it had been finding out he had a son which had called a halt upon his machinations. Vergil had suspected nothing. It had been V, whose humanity had shown him the life that Dante had built and the impact he was having on the world, carrying on Sparda’s legacy of protection for the humans, who had planted that seed of doubt and hesitance in his heart. Dante had driven the final nail into that particular coffin by telling Vergil who Nero really was. 

“You really get around,” Dante jested, chuckling and watching the blood rain fall outside. It was forming puddles already, sticky, coagulated things which stunk something fierce. He thought he would become accustomed to the smell eventually, but he never did. Blood stank, plain and simple.

“Did I?” Vergil’s tone warned Dante not to push, that he knew what the man was doing. Dante figured it was tit for tat and if Vergil was going to tease at his time in the demon world, it was only fair he should do the same of Vergil’s most sensitive subject. Of course, it was really only a guess which led Dante to conclude that this was such a sore spot, but if he knew Vergil at all (and he absolutely did) he was about to hit the proverbial nail on the head… repeatedly.

“Sure,” Dante reasoned casually. “I mean sometime between playing Gilver and stuffing a giant tower in the middle of my city, right?”

He was referring, of course, to Vergil’s time on Fortuna which had somehow produced Nero. Dante was curious about this, as he suspected, was Nero. The kid, however, had not had time to ask his father about it and Dante suspected that, rough as Nero was, he was too tactful and maybe a little too stubborn to simply bring it up.

“I acquired knowledge of the occult and the book which Arkham carried that detailed the formulae and necessary items to raise Temen-ni-Gru,” said Vergil, his voice taking on a clinical coldness. He was shutting down, Dante could sense that much. He reached out and patted his brother’s thigh from his position across the small cave. 

“Hey, dude, relax… Like I said, we were all young, once, right?” This, he meant with sincerity, his way of raising a white flag. Curiosity was pushing at him, but his adoration for Vergil was winning out. Dante was simply glad to have the man back after all these years. When it did come to blows, he wanted it to be for a better reason. 

Vergil’s gaze was sharp for a moment before he closed his eyes and turned his head to face the cave entrance. Hollow thunder resounded overhead and the world flashed with whatever passed for lightning in the realm of demons. Only when his sight was completely diverted did he open his eyes, a faraway look in them Dante could not see, but which might have broken his heart. 

“I don’t remember it.”

“You don’t… what?” Suddenly, the hand on Vergil’s thigh was tight. Dante’s mind had immediately leapt to the worst set of circumstances. He released his grasp only when Vergil’s gaze returned to him and he finally saw that look of melancholy. Dante drew back and crossed his arms, as if to protect himself. 

“Did I stutter?”

“No, but… Listen I…” There was a prime opportunity for a reference to Vergil’s lack of alcohol tolerance, but Dante wasn’t even going to attempt that. It felt wrong. One accidental drunk night did not sound like Vergil.

“There are gaps,” he said, “in my mind… things that weren’t convenient for me to know. Mundus removed them.” The delivery was simple, and all the worse for that simplicity. Vergil did not dress anything up, did not elaborate. He merely stated fact. “Our childhood has been… edited. I assume whatever happened on Fortuna was, as well, because there was no… woman.”

[cartierswift]

—invisible (lrh)

* for sophie *

—

you didn’t understand. everything was fine. more than fine, actually. things were perfect. you met luke when you were just 16. he was 17 and travelling the world with his best friends and you were just a junior in high school. it was a cool day in amsterdam. the leaves were changing colours, and you were sitting on a park bench absolutely clueless that you were about to meet the love of your life. luke, trying to avoid the pestering paps managed to get away for a few minutes and catch his breath on the same bench. instantly, he noticed the way your brown hair caught lighter in the sun and darker under the shade of the tree, he caught notice of the way your lips turned up after every lyric ended, but mostly it was your voice. the way you sang as if you weren’t in the middle of a park, the way his chest tighten everytime you sang a word. he knew right then and there that it was you. you were the one for him.

“pretty chilly here isn’t it?” he said, looking over to see if he caught your attention. you did a double take around the area, confused as to why someone was disturbing your alone time. the moment your brown eyes caught his blue ones, you melted. you were at a lost for words. his golden blonde locks were messy with last nights slumber and his plump lips were glistening. you were a sucker for lip rings.

“i guess. you get used to it eventually” you smiled back.

“is that so? i guess i’ll need to come by more often.” his eyes never leaving yours.

“i guess so.” you didn’t know why, but you were nervous. you wanted to make a good impression on this boy. you wanted him to remember you.

“maybe i can get your number? you know. so i can have a reason to come back.” he said a bit quieter. you nodded and typed your number into his phone refusing to give in to your nerves. after you were done, you couldn’t help but give him a big smile. you were proud you were able to attract someone good looking and you knew that this was going to be something special.

“i’m luke.”

“sophie.”

—

after that, everything else just fell into place. you and luke stayed together through everything. scandals, hate, tours, and everything else in between. you graduated and moved to LA to be with him. you couldn’t imagine your life without him. everything was perfect. the days consisted of football games on the TV, painting and then repainting the bedroom walls, helping luke write music, basically doing everything together. you went on tour with him, you got along great with the boys. nothing could ruin what you guys have together. some people say that if it’s meant to be, nothing can make them leave. and you agreed there was no force in the world that could take luke from you or you from him.

however, something in 2017 changed. the once happy relationship you guys held was crumbling. luke was snapping faster than usual, you were left in bed every night with an empty space holding on to your pillow to try and fill the void he left you with. your dreams filled with all the happy moments. the beautiful colours of your relationship were fading to grey and luke simply didn’t care. after every fight, he turned his back and walked away. you wouldn’t let it go though. you gave up everything to be with luke, you sacrificed a huge writing career to live in LA, your parents didn’t understand and you had left amsterdam with nasty words in your heart for them, your friends were limited to the boys and their girlfriends and a few from back home that didn’t understand what you and luke had. you had given up so much and you were not going to let it go to waste. your love with luke was special and you knew it. something else was going on behind the scenes.

then it got even worse. luke wouldn’t even leave his bed. his once happy self had completely diminished, he began to push you and the boys away. at this point you knew that something was wrong and it wasn’t your relationship. you called luke’s mom and she had told you the hard truth that luke had tried his best to hide from you. when luke was 12 he was diagnosed with clinical depression. the gene had run in the family and luke had inherited it. there was no explanation as to why. sometimes he just got sad and he needed space. it was all about patience liz had told you. so you listened. you held onto luke at night, you would kiss his shoulder and you would mumble an “i love you” or an “i’m always here baby”. and he would whisper the same words back. you thought things would get better after some time but three days later and things were still the same. luke refused to eat or interact with anybody. the boys would come over but they wouldn’t get anything out of luke. even the fans noticed that luke wasn’t the same, he went online even less and would rarely stop to take pictures when fans caught the rare glimpse of him outside. everybody was worried and what was even worse is that they were blaming you. most of them said you were probably abusive, others said that luke had become miserable in your “pr relationship” none of it was true and it only hurt luke even more that he couldn’t find it in him to defend you because he feared the fans finding out about his depression.

days turned into weeks and at this point you were begging luke to go back to his therapist, but he refused. he said these things happened all the time to him. but you knew it was more than that. things like this happened but not to this extent. you knew he needed help. you decided to take matters into his own hands and told luke you were going to go out and grab some lunch with calum. something regular as you two were very close. luke didn’t mind, but as you said your byes he held you just a bit longer than usual and his kissed lingered a bit more. you figured it was him just trying to reassure you that he was fine. you told him you love him and then made your way to the cafè to meet with calum. when you got there, you told calum everything. how hard it has been on him, but you even cried and told him how hard it has been on you. that you didn’t understand, that luke was everything to you, that you wanted to help but that you didn’t want to pressure him. calum comforted you and soaked in every word. luke was his best friend and he felt this just as hard as you did. so after 2 hours of discussion you and calum had come up with a plan to bring a therapist to luke next week. it was all you guys could truly think about. you bid your farewells and you promised you would text him when you arrived safely.

when you go to your door, something didn’t feel right. you opened the door to your home and immediately knew something was wrong. you called for luke but there was no answer. now you knew for sure that something had gone wrong, luke always responded to your arrival. it was the one thing you held onto everyday. your rushed to the bathroom door and you burst in, not caring about what the situation behind could be. you wish you hadn’t. you wish you had opened with a bit more caution. right infront of your eyes was like, but it wasn’t luke. all you could see was his body on the floor and the a container of pills clutched in his palm. you fell to your knees, shaking him with one half while you dialled 911. you could only pray that you weren’t too late. in his other hand you found a few notes. the first page read:

“sing this when the time is right. i love you sophie.”

you flipped to the next page and it was a song written by luke, you can tell by his handwriting right away that it was recent, his letters having a little bit of a tremble to them. on the top of the page the title was louder than any other word on the sheet: Invisible.

—

the time had come. a sea of black before your eyes. hundreds of people had filled the church, and there were more waiting outside. it had been weeks since the incident, but you still didn’t understand. how the love your life just slipped between your fingers? how he thought he was alone? the boys tried to comfort you in any way that they could. but they knew nothing would ever fill the emptiness luke had left you with. most days you couldn’t get up from bed, most of the time it was ashton who was shoving food down your throat. most nights calum had to sleep in the guest room because the nightmares had become too much to handle by yourself. and it was michael who had checked you into the hospital when you broke down, and lost all the air in your lungs while you begged god for the love of you life back. the doctors said it was trauma, you walked in on your boyfriend dead. others say it’s for attention. but you knew what it was: devastation. luke had only managed to pass his sorrow to you and thousands of others. as people went up one by one and said their words about luke, there wasn’t a dry eye in the room. you were holding onto calum as your sobs shook your entire body. you couldn’t go up there anymore. you couldn’t save luke, it was the boys who deserved to sing his song. his final words to everyone.

but the boys knew what luke wanted. he wanted it to be you. he wanted you to be the one to sing his explanation. the song was written for your voice and nobody else’s. so when it was your turn and when everybody’s wet eyes turned to you, you swallowed your sadness and told the crowd everything. how you and luke met. how he gave you this feeling of electricity. how even on your saddest days he found beauty. how you still can’t find it in you to believe that he’s gone. you still think this is all some sick joke. you told them what his note said. that he claimed he was gone along time ago. that most nights even though you held onto him, it was still him and his shadow and everything he did or said that he regretted. that he didn’t know who he was anymore. he just knew he didn’t want to be here anymore. that he was sorry and that he knows he’s loved. but what he also knows is a type of sadness that he can’t find words for, all he can really say is it’s the time that grabs onto your chest and makes you feel things you don’t ever want your worst enemy to feel. he wants the band to keep going. he knows they won’t but he wants them to give the fans everything in them. most of all, he wanted to let everyone know that the fans were his anchor. he’s sorry he disappeared but they never left his mind and they will never leave his heart. he hopes that nobody ever feels the way he did. he writes about love and tragedy and that once you find something you love, don’t let anyone take it away from you ever. he writes about the love of his life and how you would take the pain away and put it on your shoulders. he wants to tell everyone they now officially have a guardian angel.

“and in luke’s final wishes,” you take a deep breath. this is for luke. this is for luke. this is for luke. your eyes catch the band, a reassuring smile on their faces. “he’s asked that i perform his final piece of art.” you look up to the ceiling, you know he’s sitting on a cloud with his tongue out teasing you about being nervous. “come on sophie, don’t be nervous loser.” he would tease if he could.

“ladies and gentlemen, this song is called: Invisible”

[agirlwhowritesfanfiction]

I was sitting in my room eating a slice of pizza when all of a sudden…

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Word Count: 5207

Warnings: Deceit, Near Death (nobody dies I’m not that mean lol), Falling, Kidnapping, Snakes, and uh I think that’s it

Who are you?! What is this?!: Hi! So this was a creative writing prompt for school and I just thought ‘hmmm, i’m new to tumblr what do I post to show what I can do...how about this one!’ I hope that this was the correct story to choose to introduce myself! <3 I’m kind of on a creative block right now, however, I’ll still post stories I have written in the past before. Hope you enjoy!

I was sitting in my room eating a slice of pizza when all of a sudden, a dizzy feeling hit me. It was slight a first, and I continued on eating, but soon it was full on nausea. I dropped the slice on my plate and put down my pencil as I gripped my forehead. I watched my pencil roll off my table and slowly travel across the floor of my bedroom. As it traveled, a figure entered my peripheral vision, and I quickly glanced upward as I felt myself fall to the floor. The figure smirked and waved at me as everything went dark.

"Patton, could you pass me a napkin?"

"Sure thing, kiddo!"

It was about 6:30 pm, and me, Virgil, and Patton were eating dinner. On the table were plates upon plates of pizza, garlic knots, and breadsticks. Usually, I did not partake in such unhealthy meals, but Patton had convinced me to join him and Virgil after we finished our most recent video. Roman had declined and traveled to his bedroom.

You see, me, Virgil, Patton, and Roman are not human. We are aspects of one human; Thomas Sanders. I am Logan; Thomas' logical side. I usually am the one who makes sure Thomas is up to date with information, and I keep him on task. Patton is Thomas' morality; he helps Thomas make the best choices in life, and he also is the Thomas' heart. He encompasses' all of Thomas' feelings. Roman is Thomas' creativity; he gives Thomas' new ideas on videos to make. He also is Thomas' self-esteem, and he frequently helps Thomas out with romance. Then there is Virgil; Thomas' anxiety, the fight-or-flight reflex. There is more of us, but I'd prefer not to mention them. Especially...

Anyway, all of us make up Thomas Sanders; famous Youtube and Vine star. After Vine 'died' (as Virgil said, but it doesn't make sense since a phone app cannot physically die), Thomas moved onto Youtube, where he compiled a following of approximately 2,800,000 subscribers.  After that, he introduced us in a series called "Sanders Sides" (per Roman), and his channel grew from there.

"I wish Roman ate with us more often! He's been so stressed out recently with all of the videos we’ve been doing..." Patton mumbled, pouring me another glass of water.

"That prep needs a rest," Virgil said as he picked at his pizza with a fork, "He's going to break soon if he doesn't stop."

"I agree. Perhaps we should check on him?" I asked. Normally, I wouldn't have tried to encourage such a task, but recently I had seen Roman's mental state deteriorating. He seemed more tired, his smiles seemed faker, and he lied much more often. He tried to pretend he wasn't, but it was very obvious.

Patton gasped, "We should! Oh, I feel bad for the poor kiddo! He has seemed so sad!" He leaped out of his seat and quickly started towards Roman's room. Virgil and I stood up and fled after him.

"Roman? Kiddo?"

Once Virgil and I got to Roman's room, Patton was already there, knocking on his door, "We just came to check on you! Hello?"

"Is he not responding?" I asked, walking up beside him. I cringed looking at Roman door. Ugh, so many Disney stickers. Who even needs that many?

"Yo, Romano! Open the door!" Virgil exclaimed, walking on the other side of Patton.

Nothing.

"That's... strange," I said, "Normally, he would have opened the door by now."

“This so isn’t fun to watch.”

The three of us jumped, and turned, “Deceit.”

“Oh, you know my name. Such an accomplishment.” He said, walking up to us. In the words of Roman, Deceit is a “snake.” He represents the part of Thomas that lies; he makes Thomas lie to himself. He first appeared in the “Sander Sides” series when he pretended to be Patton for the whole episode, and I feel ashamed to admit I didn’t realize it until the very end.

“What are you doing here?” Virgil snarled, his eyes glaring.

“I’m simply strolling by. Is there a problem?” Deceit said with a sly smirk as he leaned up against the wall.

“What did you do?!”

“Tisk tisk, Virgil, don’t always expect me to do something wrong. I’m not all bad.” Deceit said. Of course, that’s a lie; everything he says is a lie. I don’t even think he is physically unable to lie. I sighed, ignoring him. I quickly summoned a hair clip and put it into the keyhole. After a few moments, the lock clicked and the door swung open.

“When the heck did you learn how to pick a lock?” Virgil asked in wonder as I made my way into Roman’s bedroom; nobody.

“It seems like Roman is not here. This is odd…” I mused as I walked further into Roman’s room. I spotted the slice of pizza he took before he left for his room on his desk. I also saw a pencil in the middle of the floor. Patton, Virgil, and Deceit were still talking behind me, but I ignored them. Perhaps Roman is in the dreamscape, where all of Thomas’ dream take place? No, it’s only 7:00 pm, Thomas would not be in bed by now… Maybe he is with Thomas right now?

“What did you do with Roman?!” I turned around at the sudden shout to see Virgil pinning Deceit up against the hallway wall. Patton looked conflicted on what he should do.

“W-We can solve this without violence, kiddos!” Patton stuttered.

“What do you mean, ‘What did you do with Roman’? What did he say?” I asked, walking up to the two of them. Virgil turned to me.

“This disgusting piece of trash told me, ‘Oh, I didn’t do anything with Roman.’” He said with a grimace, and my eyes widened.

“I didn’t say that.” Deceit said, and I’m pretty sure Virgil would have punched him in the face if Patton hadn’t taken hold of Virgil’s hand. “Don’t be so aggressive, Virgil,” Deceit smirked, “I won’t tell you anything.”

Virgil glared, “Spit it.”

“I’m not the part of Thomas that makes him lie to himself. I’m not the one who lies to him and gives him negative thoughts. I don’t give Roman negative thoughts since he is not Thomas’ self-esteem. I didn’t decide to get rid of him altogether.” Patton gasped and Virgil strengthened his grip on Deceit, “What did you do to him?!”

“I didn’t trap him in the dreamscape.” Immediately, Patton and Virgil started running towards the direction of the dreamscape, and I blinked. As I started running after the two of them, I swear I heard a voice behind me say, “Bad luck.”

Usually, during the day, the dreamscape was empty. When Thomas is not currently dreaming, the dreamscape is simply an empty white void. However, once the three of us got there, it wasn’t an empty void. Instead, it was a lush forest; the latticework of branches creating a myriad of shadows on the leafy forest floor. A large castle loomed in the distance atop a dark hill. On one of the plethora of trees, a note was attached; ‘I didn’t tell Thomas to retire for the night early. You don’t have until the morning.’

“We have to save Roman in a world that looks it came out of a Disney movie with a cliche conflict that looks like it came out of a Disney movie. Great.” Virgil grumbled as he started along the gravel path that paved a section of the forest floor. Patton and I followed after him.

“How did Deceit even take Roman?” I asked after a while of silence (and the occasional, “Roman? Kiddo? Where are you?” from Patton) and the others looked at me. Suddenly, Patton gasped.

“What if it was the pizza?!” He worrying exclaimed, and I was tempted to roll my eyes before I stopped to think about it.

“It could be possible that Deceit somehow poisoned or drugged it,” I said, and Patton gasped, but Virgil just rolled his eyes.

“Seriously? How would he even do that?”

“He could have sprinkled some crushed up Flunitrazepam, an intermediate-acting benzodiazepine, onto his pizza, which may have caused him to grow weak and unable to move. You may also know Flunitrazepam as C16H12FN3O3, or the better-known slang term, ‘roofie’.”

“No!!” Patton said, covering his mouth.

“Stop scaring Patton!” Virgil said to me, and I raised an eyebrow. “I was simply supplying the information you asked for. Is there a problem?” I asked, and Virgil sighed, not saying anything. After a moment, he spoke,

“Even though Roman is a dramatic jerk, I still hope he’s okay.” Patton and I’s eyes widened in surprise. Normally, Virgil never said things like that, especially about Roman. Virgil turned around and glared, “Don’t you ever tell him I said that.” “Wouldn’t dream of it, kiddo!” Patton said happily, skipping ahead. After a while of us walking, I was starting to think nothing was going to happen, but then we came upon a chest of sorts.

“Oh! A box!” Patton exclaimed happily, running over to it. I sighed and rubbed the bridge of my nose.

“Wait! Don’t open it!” Virgil said, and the two of us made our way beside Patton. I took a better look at the chest and it looked like it needed a key.

“Seriously? We need to find a key? Where the heck will we find a key? Oh, let me guess, it’ll be on top of a magical rainbow guarded by unicorns-!” Virgil spoke, but before he could finish, I had already picked the lock and opened the chest. Virgil sighed and Patton jumped excitedly as we all looked to see a… bottle?

I confusedly took the bottle out of the crate and held it in my hands. It was clear, and inside was a blue liquid I could not identify. On the side of the bottle was the words ‘DRINK ME’ in bold letters.

“Seriously? Now we’re in Alice in Wonderland?” Virgil said as I took the cork out of the top. The liquid smelled strangely similar to blueberries.  

“...Should we drink it?” Patton asked.

“No!”

“Yes!”

Virgil and I looked at one another and he glared, “We’re not drinking it. It could be a trap.” He snatched the bottle out of my hands and put the cork back on the top, “How could you possibly think we should drink it?”

“It says ‘DRINK ME’ on it. Plus, we don’t know if it is a trap. It could possibly be something that could help us.”

“Why the heck would Deceit leave something to help us?”

“It could be that he assumed us to think it was a trap, so he assumed we would not drink it. For that reason, he could have made this drink good.”

“But Logan, we don’t know that!”

“Well, I think we should at least try it.”

“What if it’s a trick, and it does nothing?”

Virgil and I turned to look at Patton, “That… is actually a good suggestion, Patton. Thank you.”

Patton laughed, “No problem, kiddo! I just think we shouldn’t get worked up over it. Now come on, let’s go!” Then, he started skipping down the path, and Virgil and I followed.

“Ugh, how long have we been walking? We found that bottle like, ten hours ago!”

“It was two hours, forty-three minutes, and-”

“I didn’t mean it literally.”

“Oops. My apologies.”

“Roman?! Kiddo? Where are you?!”

By this point in our journey, I was growing tired, Virgil was beginning to become more stressed, and Patton was getting more anxious by the minute. There was still no sign of Roman anywhere, and we hadn’t even gotten to any major obstacles yet (besides a spider web which I quickly got rid of). Like before, I was starting to think nothing was going to happen.

That was until we heard a roar.

“What was that?” Virgil asked, and we all spun around, trying to find where the sound came from. I thought I would be able to recognize the sound, but unfortunately, I was unable to. I continued to glance around, trying to find the sound, when my eyes landed on the castle.

“U-Uh..” Patton and Virgil followed my gaze and their jaws dropped. There, perched on the topmost tower of the castle sat a dragon. A dragon. It’s purple scales glistened in the faint moonlight, it’s claws holding onto the tower in between its bricks. It’s glowing green eyes glanced around the forest, it’s wings adjusting to its position, trying to keep itself upright. The dragon also had a purple ‘witches’ hat on its head. After a moment more of the dragon looking around, it tilted its head, and it a flash, it was gone.

The three of us stood, shocked for a moment.

“Welp, that’s it, I’m done. Roman can save himself.”

“Virgil, no!” Patton grabbed Virgil’s arm before he could turn and walk away. I still stared at the castle, my mind reeling.

“Dragon witch...”

“What?” Patton and Virgil turned to me.

“It’s a dragon-witch. Roman spoke of it once before,” I looked at them, “It’s a combination of a dragon and a witch, to my understanding.” I sighed, looking at the castle again.

“And I think it’s guarding the castle.”

It was silent for another moment, “No!”

Virgil and I jumped, looking at Patton, “No! We’re not giving up! Just because some mean dragon is here doesn’t mean I’ll stop fighting! We’ll get Roman back! Now, come on!” Patton started forward again, and Virgil and I followed. There is no stopping Patton when he is determined.

The gravel and dirt shifted under our feet as we continued forward. It was nearing midnight, and I have to admit I was growing tired.

“Should we rest?” I asked the group.

“No. We need to get the Roman as fast as possible.”

“But, Virgil-” Before I could continue, we suddenly heard a… hissing? Suddenly, before we could react, a snake jumped from out of a bush near us, and Virgil barley missed being bitten. I immediately recognized it as a king cobra, the world's longest venomous snake. My eyes widened, and I took a step back. I spun around again as I heard more hissing behind me. We were surrounded.

“W-What do we do?!” Patton asked frantically.

“I-I am unsure. King cobras normally aren’t so aggressive.” Suddenly, one of the cobras started at us. Slowly, at first, but then it leaped right at me. I knew I didn’t have time to move, and I suddenly knew that would be the death of me. I’d die being bitten by a snake, and Thomas would never be logical ever again. I thought when people said your life flashed before your eyes, they were lying, but at the moment, all of my past memories flashed back to me. Of when I was first formed in Thomas’ mind, when Thomas graduated high school when Virgil first told us his name. I shut my eyes, and I heard Patton’s scream-

What?

I slowed opened my eyes when I realized I was, in fact, not dead and very much alive. I spotted Virgil in front of me, and in his hand was the uncorked bottle filled with the blue liquid. About a third of it was gone, and on the ground was a dead king cobra covered in blue. The other snakes quickly scurried off, seemingly afraid. I realized then that, whatever was in the bottle, was some kind of snake repellent. Virgil turned around to me, “Are you okay?”

“I-I’m s-satisfactory…” I said, still shocked by what happened. Patton seemed shocked as well, not having moved yet. Virgil nodded and turned around, and he continued walking.

“Why would Deceit give us a snake repellent?” I wondered, catching up to him.

Virgil shrugged, “Honestly, I have no idea. Stupid move if you ask me.”

“Maybe he was hoping we would drink it and die...” Patton mumbled. We were all silent for a moment,

“Now, should we rest?”

“I still think it’s a bad idea.”

“I don’t think we’ll even be able too…” Virgil and I tilted our heads and looked to where Patton was.

We had reached the castle.

The huge, wooden doors for the entrance looked old, the lock on them broken and nearly falling off. The grey bricks making up the castle held a multitude of scratches, and the tall towers at the top of the castle looked destroyed. I took a deep breath, and I opened the castle doors. It was a lot… quieter, then I was expecting. My footsteps echoed throughout the castle as I looked around. We seemed to be in some kind of lobby area, a staircase going off in two directions on the back wall and long hallways on the sides walls.

“You know, I was kind of expecting there to be a big dragon in here or something,”  Virgil said, and I nodded my head, agreeing.

“Should we split up?” Patton asked, and before I could say anything, Virgil shook his head.

“No. People who split up in horror movies always die. We have to stick together.” I found that reasoning quite silly, however, he still made a good point.

“I agree. We should explore the first floor first.” I said, and the other two nodded. The three of us turned to the left and traveled into the long hallway. When we got to the end of the hallway, we found ourselves in what looked liked to be a dining room. There was a long table, with maybe thirty or forty chairs, and on the back wall, there was a door with the word, “KITCHEN” on it. I suddenly had an idea and I quicked headed into the kitchen. When I entered, I saw the old pots and pans on an old probably not sturdy shelf. I saw some knives in a holder and I collected three. I turned around to see Virgil and Patton in front of me and I held out two knives to them, “Weapons. Even though the obstacles that we have faced up to the point have been absolutely ridiculous, that doesn’t mean Deceit is stupid. We need to be ready just in case something happens, and we also need to be wary of that dragon. There is probably an armory in here somewhere, but for the time being, take these.”

“Wow. Okay.” Virgil and Patton took the knives and we headed out of the kitchen and dining room.

I assumed correctly in thinking there would be an armory, so the three of us collected swords (for some reason there was no armor and exactly three swords). We explored the whole castle, and by the time we were in the last room, it was nearing 4 AM. I remembered Thomas told us that for the week he was going to wake up early to get more work done, so we only had around one hour left.

“Please be here, Roman…” Patton said under his breath as he opened the door.

And there he was.

“ROMAN!”

Roman spun around from inside of the locked cage he was in and his face brightened, “Oh thank goodness, you found me! Why did it take you three so long?”

“Wow, we save your life, and you’re asking why it took us so long. Thanks, Princey, We really appreciate the sentiment!” Virgil grumbled, but I could tell he was thankful we found him. I quickly rushed over to the cage and summoned another hairclip and I started to pick the lock.

“Wow, I didn’t know you could pick locks,” Roman said.

“How did you get captured?” I asked, ignoring what he said (I didn’t even know I could summon things until a few weeks ago, but here we are).

“Ugh, it was dreadful, I have to tell you!” Roman said as I opened the cell door and he stepped out, “That snake snuck into my bedroom and did something to my pizza! Pizza! Who would even do such a thing? Anyway, I collapsed and he brought me here. It’s so boring up here! I only have one window, and I can’t even open it! All I can do is look at these cell bars! It’s the worst! Anyway, how did you three find me?”

“Well, Logan nearly died, but overall it was pretty boring.”

“He what?”

I sighed, “What happened was the three of noticed your usual absence at dinner, so we went to your room. Deceit was there, and he told us he trapped you there. When we got there, we found a bottle that had the words, “DRINK ME” on it. Later, we encountered some venomous snakes, and one nearly bit me. Thankfully, Virgil threw some of the liquid from the bottle on it and it died, causing the others to scatter. We got to the castle, and then we found you.”

“Oh, that makes sense!”

Patton suddenly perked up, “Oh, Logan forget to tell you that we saw this really scary drago-”

RRRRRROOOOOAAAAARRRRR!!!!!

“What was that?!” Roman frantically asked, and suddenly the roof of the room crashed down on us. We all ducked, and thankfully nothing hit us. After the roof fell, we all looked up. Now, I forgot to mention earlier that the room we were in was actually at the top of the castle in one of the towers. The very top. So, that’s how the dragon-witch flew down and tore the roof right off. It started back down at us, and we screamed. Patton, Virgil and I held up our swords while Roman cowered behind us, him not having his.

“RUN!” Virgil screamed, and Roman did not hesitate to run to the door and head down the stairs of the tower. The three of us started to run after him, but before we could, the dragon-witch flew in front of us, making us unable to leave. All of us didn’t really know what to do. Roman was the only one out of all of us who could fight with a sword, and we had just told him to flee.

“We’re going to die, aren’t we?” Virgil asked, and at that moment I couldn’t help but agree with him. Suddenly, Virgil's eyes widened, and he spun around and faced the window. I had completely forgotten about it. I followed him and we managed to bust the window open with our swords. We looked out of it, and we knew that if we jumped we would instantly die if we hit the bottom.

“HEY!” Virgil and I turned around and we gasped. Patton was still staring up at the dragon, his sword still tightly grasped in his hand, “I won’t let you hurt my family! If you try, you’ll have to get through me first!”

“Patton, no!” Virgil shouted, but Patton didn’t listen. The dragon witch looked down at him and stared for a moment.

Then, it attacked.

It swung its claw, and Patton managed to get away with only a small cut on his cheek. Instead, it’s claw swung and hit the wall, destroying the side of the tower. Patton quickly lunged forward again, and he stabbed it in the stomach. The dragon witch screamed and Patton dropped his sword and ran towards us. The dragon witch swung again, taking a step forward, and Virgil managed to nick it’s claw slightly. I looked around the dragon and I saw there was enough room for us to get to the door. Virgil and Patton noticed too, and we all made a run for it. Virgil and Patton raced through the door, and I ran after them-

But then the door slammed shut before I could get through.

I immediately panicked and pulled at the doorknob, but I couldn’t open the door. My eyes widened and I spun around. The dragon witch was staring at me, looking ready to attack.

“Having fun, Logan?”

I glanced behind the dragon-witch and see Deceit, casually sitting on the broken wall. I realized he must have been the one to shut the door; I don’t know how, but he did.

“Let me go, Deceit.” I snapped at him, and the dragon-witch growled. I took a step back, and I bumped against the door.

“Sure.” He said, and he hopped down from the wall and strode over to me. He smirked, and he raised up his hand. The dragon witch growled again, and I then realized that he must have control over it. I looked back at him.

“Deceit, please let me go. We can resolve this if you just opened the door and let me leave.” I said, trying to convince him, but to no avail. I thought I may have heard faint yelling of my name, but I couldn’t tell with how loudly I was breathing.

Deceit laughed, “I’ll totally let you go, Logan.” Then, he walked past me, and with the flick of his hand, the door opened. I stared for a moment, This has to be a trap. Deceit only lies.

“Come on, Logan. The door is open. Just walk through.” He said, and I stood for a moment before walking to the door.

I felt a force pushing into my side, and I felt myself fly for a moment.

A-Am I falling?

I blinked, and I saw the top of the tower slowly become farther and farther away.

Yes, I am indeed falling.

I wasn’t too surprised, really. Deceit always lied, and there was a big gap in the wall just a few feet away from me. I should have known I would have been pushed off. The situation felt sort of familiar, very much like when the king cobra almost bit me. This time, however, I had a few seconds before impact. Time seemed slow, one second felt like an hour. I tried to think of something to do, but I knew I couldn’t do anything. I could summon a hair clip, but barely, so I wouldn’t be able to do anything bigger than that. Roman could of since he is creativity, but he probably was too weak. I was done for. I heard screaming under me, probably the others. I knew I’d miss them. I shut my eyes, and suddenly, I saw a flash of bright white light.

After a moment, I opened my eyes. A-Am I dead?

“OH MY GOSH, LOGAN!”

I saw three figures above me. I couldn’t really tell since my vision was quite blurred. Wait… Roman? Patton? Virgil?

It suddenly came to me, and if I was standing, I would have stumbled back from the realization: Thomas woke up.

When Thomas woke up, the whole dreamscape reset, and our positions did, too.

“Oh my goodness, Logan! Are you okay!? Please tell me you’re okay!!”

“W-What?”

“Oh thank goodness!” I slowly sat up, Virgil and Roman helping me. I vision finally cleared, and I could see the three of them clearly. They all looked terrified.

“Heavens, Logan, you nearly died! It was horrible!” Roman exclaimed, and Virgil glared.

“I think he knew that, Sir-Sing-A-Lot.” Virgil spat.

“I’m satisfactory, ” I said, standing up. I was still in quite a state of shock, so I didn’t bother to say anything further. I turned my head, and I saw the door to exit the dreamscape. Deceit was nowhere in sight (I didn’t know if I should be thankful or not at this fact). Patton saw where I was looking, “Come on, kiddo. Let’s get going.”

“You feeling any better?” Patton asked, and I took another sip of my water. We were back at the dining table, the food long since becoming cold. Once we exited the dreamscape, Virgil sunk down to tell Thomas what happened and the three of us went back to the common room.

“I’m fine,” I said as Virgil rose back up.

“What did Thomas say?” Roman asked.

“To say the least, he kind of freaked out. Because we were in the dreamscape, Thomas saw everything that happened. He told me that his dream ended right as Logan fell. I told him you and Logan were okay. He wants to talk to us all later.”

“Okay. I feel so bad for him! He must have felt so powerless!” Patton exclaimed, and the rest of us nodded, Virgil taking a seat at the table.

I turned to Roman, “How are you doing?” Roman blinked in surprise, slightly shocked to be addressed.

“I’m fine, nerd! I’m not hurt! Don’t worry about me.” He said, smiling. I suddenly remembered what Deceit told us before we went to the dreamscape; “I don’t give Roman negative thoughts since he is not Thomas’ self-esteem.”

“Roman, are you okay?” I asked, and Roman snorted.

“I just said that I was!”

“No. Tell me honestly. Are you okay? Because Deceit told us earlier that he gives you negative thoughts.” I knew I had struck some kind of nerve since Roman flinched and looked down. I could tell by Virgil and Patton’s that they remembered what Deceit had said.

“I-I..” Roman stuttered, and he finally sighed, “No. No, I’m not.” The three of us waited for him to continue. He sighed again.

“Once we started making videos for “Sander Sides,” we had to do a lot more work. I had to plan out things for us to say, I had to help Thomas design props and filming a video every month or two is draining. I was feeling really bad about myself, and once Deceit came along, it just got worse. It was harder to pretend to be happy, and I even considered ducking out a few times like Virgil did when he thought we didn’t need him anymore. I really thought about just not being creativity and self-esteem anymore, because if I left,” He laughed, “Well, what difference would it have made?”

I nearly screamed when Patton leaped across the table and tackled Roman in a hug, sending them both to the floor, “Oh my goodness, kiddo! I never knew! I’m sorry I never noticed! We love you so much!!” Virgil and I stood up and we walked over to the two of them once we stood up.

“Yes, Roman. Even if it doesn’t seem like it, we care. We think your ideas are amazing, and you do so much for Thomas.” Roman smiled a real smile for what looked like the first time in ages and he looked and Virgil.

He sighed, “You’re good… I guess.” Roman shrugged.

“Well, that’s the best I’ll get.” He looked at all of us, “Thank you. It means so much to hear that.”

After that, we all finally went to bed. The next day, we talked to Thomas about what happened and made sure to cut down on the work for Roman's sake. Once we got to the mindscape, we saw Deceit again, and we tried to talk to him. He didn’t listen, but Patton said he would come around sometime. That’s where we are now, really. We’re all doing better, we’ve all recovered from the incident, and as cliche as it sounds….

We are happy, and for now, that’s the only thing that matters.

[danganxastrologyimagines]

"How would the DRV3 boys react to their s/o dying, but soon find out that their commuted suicide because their were blackmailed by Monokuma, but the mastermind didn't want their s/o to win so they executed boys in their s/o's place and they are comforted by their crying s/o telling them that this wasn't supposed to happen?"

Okay, so this post is really long BC I had ideas again…Sorry about that! Hopefully it was worth the wait, and I hope you enjoy! TW: suicide mentioned (tag is Sui) -Mod Capricorn

Shuichi Saihara: -When Monokuma popped up in your dorm room to blackmail you, you didn’t know what the bear wanted. -Did it want you to kill someone? Well duh, the menace wanted anyone to do that. -But when it mentioned that if you didn’t kill within 48 hours Shuichi would die. That’s when you got concerned. -“Wouldn’t that make you the culprit?” You retort. -“This is my game! You have to follow my rules, including the one I’ve given you! Your punishment for not doing so will be losing your lovely detective!” He jokes. -Damn. So this was a rule then. -“Also, don’t be smart and talk about this to anyone.” It blurts out. “If you do, Shuichi will die for punishment of your decisions!” -You stared at the black and white bear, dumbfounded. -“Well, sleep tight!"Poof. The bear was gone. -You couldn’t sleep that night. You had to plan someone’s death. -After recognising that if you commit suicide, nobody but you would be the culprit, it was a decision. -You spend the day with Shuichi, making sure to enjoy your moments with him. -At night time, you started your plan.

-During the trial, Shuichi couldn’t believe that you had killed yourself. You had no motive. -He was trying to find someone that he could find guilty, but the evidence went against his weak arguments. -The poor boy was heart-broken. Why did you do that? -Once everyone voted for you, Monokuma shocked everyone. -"Well, since S/O committed suicide, we have no blackened!” Monokuma starts. “However, the motive was not made clear!” -Where was he going with this? -“It’s punishment time!” -When Shuichi is dragged away by Monokuma, everyone is shocked. Including you. -The detective knew he was going to die - hell, how could he even survive the murder mystery house punishment!?! -This is the end, Saihara thought.

-He wakes up to a void. -Was this the afterlife? It was very lonely. Silent. -That is until he sits up, looking around and noticing several familiar faces. -Then he notices yours. -Your face was stained from your crying, and the look on your face was one of surprise, and one of guilt. -“S-Shuichi…I-I’m so sorry.” You weakly splutter out. -“No, I’m sorry.” Shuichi responded, walking towards you. “wasn’t able to talk you out of your suicide. I hope you can forgive me.” He grows fainter and fainter with every syllable. -Your look of surprise overpowers one of guilt. -“N-no that’s not your fault! I had to do that!” You reply. “I did it to save you from monokumas punishment!” -Shuichi was gobsmacked. -You got blackmailed. -So out had to kill for him to live. -He had nothing else to say, he just enveloped you in a light hug, tucking his head into your neck.

 Kaito Momota: -you received a monopad with your motive video. -“Ladies and gentlemen, the much anticipated motive video for S/O, the ultimate…Something.” You roll your eyes. Really? “Kaito Momota is-” your eyes darted to the screen. -“-The first person that this average person has managed to bag! However, now there is a tough decision to be made! Them, or their boy toy!” -Your eyes lose all life from them. You knew what the video implied. -You chose yourself.

-“Shuichi, your my sidekick!” Kaito was accusing Shuichi of killing you. Why else would the sidekick be giving out evidence pointing to you offing yourself? -“Uh oh, Shuichi! It looks like the idiot is accusing you *again* of killing someone!” Kokicki snickered out loud. -“You were working with him! That would make sense! That explains why you have been so pally as of late!” Kaito pointed the finger at the duo. -“Kaito.” Maki interrupts softly. “We found a motive in their room.” -“Oh really? Maybe that was planted by the liar!” Kaito was seething with rage. Someone killed you, and he wanted to get justice for you. -Monokuma begins voting time. It was boring the bear. -The rest of the class voted correctly. -“W-What?!?” Kaito blurted out. -“I was trying to show you the motive video they received.” Maki admits. -“Ah, right! I’ll play that for everyone else to see!” Monokuma stated. -By the end of the video, Kaito is empty. -You gave yourself up for him to survive. -Before anyone knows it, Kaito was being thrown into a rocket.

-Kaito wakes up to a pair of arms grasping into him. The person was shaking. -Opening his eyes, he realises that it’s you. -“S/O. You didn’t have to do that for me.” Kaito highlights. -Tears were streaming down your face. -“I know I didn’t have to. But I wanted to. I wanted you to get out of the killing game alive!” You painfully confessed. -“I’m glad I’m here with you, S/O.” Kaito says. “There’s no other person I would rather be with.” -He pulls you into his lap, where you stay attached to him.

 Rantaro Amami: (I did this as a crush thing whoops!) -When you went to your dorm room for your first nights rest, a letter was waiting for you. -The message of the letter was that if you didn’t kill someone within 24 hours, they would kill Rantaro. -You were caught off guard by how quick Monokuma was to get you to kill someone. -So, you went for a suicide that was quick to do. The consequence was that this discovery would look like someone else murdered you.

-The trial was all over the place. -Half of the people were saying this was a brutal murder (with Rantaro leading the group), and the other half were arguing that this was a suicide (which was lead by Shuichi). -While you did choose a method of death that appeared to be violent, you left one clue behind that made sense to you being the culprit - considering your position, and the letter, it was concluded that you killed yourself for the mysterious avocado. -Rantaro was shocked. He didn’t think that he was enough of a reason for you to die! -When Monokuma is debating on who to execute, Rantaro volunteered. -Why? Because he couldn’t think of anyone else the public would have wanted to see gone.

-Rantaro woke up next to you. -He sits up, stretching, before nudging you awake. -Slowly, you opened up your eyes. -Panic. -Oh no. He was killed regardless. You couldn’t save him this time. -“Why did you do that?” Rantaro extended. At this point, he was looking at you with curiousity. -“I - uh. Well, mmm…"You hesitated. "Something about you was interesting.” You whisper. -Interesting? -“So you gave up your life because I was interesting…” Rantaro begins. -“That’s quite the inferiority complex you have right there!” He lightened up. -“I didn’t mean for you to get killed, I’m so sorry! I thought that you would survive!” You hushed. -Rantaro just smiled. -“Let’s talk some more.”

 Kokichi Ouma: -When you were happily walking through the campus with your boyfriend, Monokuma pops up. -“Aww Monokuma! Were you getting lonely?” He pouts. “Not that I would care either way!” -Monokuma didn’t acknowledge the supreme leader, the bear just handed you a note. -off Monokuma went to his next destination. -“Ooh wonder what that was!” Kokicki smiled. -You read the comment before he could look over your shoulder (maybe because you were likely taller than him…) -“Ahh it’s just a silly little comment! It doesn’t even make sense!” You laugh off.

-The next day, you were found on the ground. -He thought that someone had asked Monokuma to give you a letter to meet up at a rooftop. -He didn’t get why you would do that, but he was certain that he could get the culprit. -Throughout the trial, Saihara was beginning to suspect that you had committed suicide. -“Nishishishi! Silly Saihara! Don’t you know nothing was wrong?” Kokichi blurted out. “I mean, why would she do it when there’s much worse in this room?” He goes deadly serious. -“We wound this note in their pocket.” Saihara makes a note of Kokichi’s recognition of the paper. -“But what does that flimsy piece of paper even say?” Kokichi patronises. “Are you going to be caught off guard by-” -Maki glares at Kokichi. -“Read the note.” Maki blurted out. -“Kill, or Kokichi will die.” The boy stops smiling. So that’s why Monokuma didn’t say a word to you when they handed the paper to you. -Voting wraps up, and Kokichi is promptly punished without further discussion of the case.

-You’re on your knees. You couldn’t believe that he died that way. -That was because of you doing what you did. -You were knocked over by a small body, tackled into a hug. -“Oh my darling S/O! I so missed you!” Kokichi yawned. -“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for you to die like that.” You hold back your tears. -he turns you to face him. -“I know.” He’s serious. His face was plain in that moment. “I’m glad I can see you again. It was heart breaking to see your body in the state it was in.” He finished, tears streaming down his face. -Both of you are just looking at each other, crying out of the happiness that you both had each other. -“The only thing I’m angry about is the fact that you managed to convince me that the note was nothing!” He laughs, putting on his smile once again.

 Ryoma Hoshi: -It was night time, and you were walking outside alone. -You enjoyed the scenery when you didn’t realise that you were still in the killing game. -Unfortunately, this didn’t last long. -You saw Monokuma appear with a large envelope. -“Now don’t tell anyone about this, or it will happen regardless of what you do!” It giggled, disappearing around the corner. -You return to your dorm with said envelope. -tearing apart the package, you saw what accompanied the letter. -You had been given a letter, along with pictures. -The letter was basic enough with its message. But it added more comments, because the mastermind knew it would take more convincing for you to kill. -They knew you were mentally vulnerable, so they had given you pictures where Ryoma was clearly having fun with everyone else. -Everyone else but you.

-Ryoma went to the canteen for breakfast. He was looking forward to seeing you! -He sat down in his usual seat, waiting to see you again. -Everyone else turns up, and you still weren’t there. -Only then did he put two and two together - you were usually there before him. -He goes to your dorm, knocking before inviting himself in. -He sees your body. -The trial wasn’t memorable - you obviously did the crime yourself. -Ryoma didn’t vote - what was the point in voting? He didn’t want to live, you gave him something that nobody else could!

-You didn’t watch the trial. -Your intention was to rid Ryoma of his metal ball and chain. -“S/O.” Oh no. You were still a burden to him. -“Why did you do that?” He puts a hand on your shoulder. -“Because I know you wouldn’t love me.” You softly spat at him.“You were happier with everyone else, when I wasn’t there to hold you back.” -“That’s not true.” He’s struggling to say that without stuttering. “That’s not true at all.” You could hear the tears welling up in his eyes. -You turned around and clutched onto him in a warm hug, silently crying to each other.

 Korekiyo Shunguuji: -You were lying in your dorm room, staring at the ceiling because of the inability to fall asleep. -You hear a sound in the room you sit up to observe, and it’s Monokuma. -“Ah, awake I see! Great, now for the reason I’m paying you a visit” It gleamed. “Your Principal is not accepting of the relationship you are in with that boyfriend of yours. So now you have to choose - you or him?” -“And what happens if I don’t choose him?” You ponder. -“Well, he’s dead meat!” The bear laughs. “Who’s going to die tonight then?”

-Korekiyo was arguing with his sister at this point of the trial. -“What do you mean, ‘thing’?"He bellowed at himself. -"I mean that lover of yours. I will forgive you for cheating on me, my sibling. Just this once.” He retorted back to himself. -“What do you mean by that? I thought we established that we aren’t dating now, sister!” -“O-okay…” Monokuma stutters out. “lock in your…votes…” Monokuma was sweating. The bear didn’t know what was going to happen. -Korekiyo was fighting with his sister when voting, refusing to punch in any vote.

-He wakes up to frantic footsteps and hellish sobbing. -“Oh god, I didn’t intend for that to happen! I just wanted you to live!” You cry out, falling to your knees for forgiveness. -“Your act was truly beautiful!” He admits with confidence. “You gave up your life in an effort to save me!” He lightly pulled you in for a cuddle.

  Gonta Gokuhara: -You receive Gonta’s motive video. -Well, you thought so until you got a pop up on the video where it said that you had to choose you or Gonta. -“Make your choice!”

-Gonta couldn’t even understand what suicide was, so he wouldn’t even understand how you could be the culprit. -“Shuichi no take case serious!” Gonta roared across the court room. -“Gonta, We found this video at the crime scene.” The video plays, silencing Gonta. -Gonta couldn’t protect you. -He willingly took his execution. He felt that he didn’t deserve life if you lost yours.

-Gonta would more likely be the one apologising. -Before you could even say something, Gonta was apologising for failing to protect you. -In return, you explain the situation through your tears. -The interaction ends with the two of you holding hands, smiling at each other.

 Keebo: -You were in your room, getting dressed for the day ahead. -Knocks were at the door, and you thought it was Keebo. -“I’ll be there in a minute, sweetheart!” You called out. -You look at the door to see an eery message being pushed through. -“Kill someone, or your robot is gone.” -Okay, you could have just put down 'Keebo’ but thanks Monokuma… -You turn the paper to see a message explaining that you’re not allowed to tell anyone. -You knew what you were planning on doing, so you prepared yourself for your demise.

-When it was revealed that you killed yourself, Keebo became unresponsive. -The public voted for him to die. He prepared himself. -He died being crushed like a used piece of junk.

-Keebo spawned in a dark abyss, and he felt someone holding his hand, and the someone was sobbing. -“S/O is that you?” He asks, no emotions present. -You looked at him in shock. You couldn’t remember when he spoke to anyone like that. -“Please answer me.” -“I-I’m so sorry. I had to do it…"You drop your head down, scared of how he would react. -He strokes your hair. -"Please do not worry about the past! We still have each other, and that’s all that matters.” Keebo said, smiling. -You look up, reciprocating the smile.

[novelconcepts]

The Last Jedi was far from a perfect movie; the pacing was questionable, and a lot of it just didn't line up with TFA. That said, I actually really enjoyed it for what it is. My highlights under the cut:

REY!:

Literally everything about Rey. I love her Jedi training costume, I love her being dressed in gray shades, I love her boots. I love her training on her own when Luke refuses. I love the fact that she's still using her staff, and I love that she isn't afraid of the lightsaber--but that she doesn't hold it like most Jedi. She holds it like a girl who's learned to fight with a staff first. I love it. 

Rey's Murder Face (™). I love that she is so consistently brutal, that she's all gritted teeth and furious stalk. The grace in her fight scenes is nothing like what we’ve come to expect from a lightsaber; it’s what you’d expect from a cornered tiger. I fucking adore that she has a totally different fighting style

Really, this whole breakdown could be (and is) a love letter to Rey. Rey is my Absolute Fave, and while I spent a lot of the first watch-through nervous for what they'd do with her, it all played out well in the end.

Rey coming at Kylo Ren with so much malice. Rey, even so, trying to see both sides of a miserable story. Rey pulling a whole-ass Luke Skywalker in her "there is still good in him, I sense it, I can help him back"--and Rey, faced with a power-hungry boy who does not want to be saved, who only wants to burn the world down, slamming the door in his face.  

Because, see, this is what I wanted. No romance, none of that "she can save him and erase his terrible decisions" narrative, but a compassionate Rey--a Rey who, like Finn, did not grow up with friendship or love or family in her life, and still craves these things, and still gives these things freely. A Rey who could have grown up into a shuttered, broken human being, and chooses forgiveness first. Chooses the benefit of the doubt. Chooses faith in the best possible option...

...but is not so naive as to think she ought to stick around for a man who slaps down her offer for help. Rey sees his classic abuse tactics--telling her she is nobody, that nobody cares except for him--and walks away, and when he tries to get at her again, she closes that door tight. Rey is a compassionate soul...but it is not her job to save a man who does not want to be better. This is exactly what I would have hoped for her character.

Also, how much do I love that she sees Finn with Rose and does not narrow her eyes in anger, does not seem to view Rose as a threat. Her body language is soft. She is, despite all the gray space in her, soft. 

Poe!:

His jacket. I want Poe's new jacket so bad. 

Poe being a hotheaded idiot. Switching off the comms to keep doing what he perceives to be the right thing? SUCH a Leia move! How could she even be pissed? 

(Because she's got so many of those moves under her belt, and she knows better these days, that's why. Leia don't take no shit. Not from Poe. Not from the Void of Space. Not from nobody.)

Poe learning how to be a hero. Learning that heroes are not all sassing the bad guys and blowing shit up. Learning that your X-Wing is super cool, dude, but maybe the true measure of a hero--and a leader--is knowing how to sit back and listen and make the hard choices with no glory whatsoever. 

Luke!:

Speaking of taking no shit: Luke "Theater Is My Middle Name" Skywalker, looking at that lightsaber and just pitching it over his shoulder. Luke "Drama School Has Nothing On Me” Skywalker just going about his old-ass business of fishing and farming and leaping around this island like Rey isn't there. 

Luke, who admittedly had two less-than-stellar teachers, and manages to hold-my-beer them both. Luke. How do you manage these things, you beautiful grumpy bastard.

Luke's sassy half-assed attempts at teaching. Rey's Fight-Club determination. They are so perfectly matched for each other. I'm sorry we never got him leaping onto her back and forcing her to climb vines, but I guess you can't have everything.

Rey's Murder-Sunshine butting up against Luke's Former Innocence-Turned-Grizzled Guilt is just so...satisfying to me somehow. I know Mark Hamill wasn't thrilled with the road these movies put Luke on, but frankly, it works for me.

Also soft: Luke interacting with his sister after so long, after so much guilt and shame and running away. Luke and Leia, a bond stronger than all the distance in the galaxy. I loved that little moment between them.

As much as I loved Luke's entire third-act charade. His outfit, his not even bothering with the illusion of his green lightsaber--and why would he? Ben Solo saw that saber as a murder weapon--his perfect hair. His little wink, his sassy one-liners, his whole demeanor. I don't love losing Luke, but I do think the way he went out was clean. It was Ben Kenobi. It was Yoda. It was Classic Jedi of the highest order.

(And Yoda was a great little touch. I wasn't...a hundred percent sure about the puppet they used, but it was worlds better than the prequels!Yoda. And I always enjoy him sassily smacking Luke upside the head. Never gets old.)

Leia!:

I don’t have a ton to say about Leia--not because I didn’t love her, but because seeing her onscreen, larger than life and so, so wonderful, hurt my heart. Knowing that the finale was going to belong to Leia, knowing that she was going to have the light shining on her in the end, carves out such a loss. Leia was the first powerful woman I got to see on-screen. Carrie was incredible. I was so glad to see her in this movie, and I am so terribly sad we will not be seeing her again.

But: Force-user Leia? So here for it. So fucking here for it. Anti-mutiny Leia? So here for it. Leia telling Poe to get his head out of his ass? Give me more. 

And we’re all in agreement that she had a thing with Holdo, right? Right? ‘Cuz. Yes. 

(I also really loved Holdo, and I wish we could have seen more of her. Laura Dern is always a delight.)

Finn!:

Finn still trying to run away--but for a totally selfless reason this time. Finn waking up and thinking of literally nothing but Rey for the longest time. Finn, who has only just figured out what friendship and family and love are, and is holding on for dear life. 

In related news: how much do I love that every major character who runs across Finn—Poe, Rey, Rose--immediately wants to protect him with everything they have. This kid who was stolen from his family and brainwashed into Stormtrooper life is so loved by everyone he meets. My heart.

Finn and Phasma! Lowkey showdown of the movie. Him being so goddamn proud of being Rebel Scum after all the running of TFA is just so perfect.

Rose!:

Rose fits in so beautifully with the new kids. She's so clever, and has such a big heart. Her not even hesitating to hand over the last piece of her sister if it meant saving everyone. I mean. Really. Rose, you are a glorious delight. 

Not to mention the tongue-tied good cheer followed immediately by tazing the hero you were just so excited to meet. Talk about mood.

Domhnall Gleeson:

Not Hux; I don't particularly care for Hux in all his one-dimensional glory, although I do love how not-having-it he was about Kylo Ren announcing himself the new leader of the First Order. That moment where he's 100% ready to shoot him? Glorious. But other than that, I just love the way Domhnall carries the character. He manages to be so different than I expect.  

Honorable mention to that classic banter with Poe over the speaker system. Simple comedy is perfection sometimes.

Misc thoughts:

An unpopular opinion, I'm sure: I like that Snoke was taken out. I like that Kylo Ren rose to hold the mantle of Worst Dude in the Galaxy. I like that we got a character who, like Vader, was a boy to whom Bad Things Happened--and who decided to respond in the worst possible way.  

To me, everything about this movie was rooted in choice, in the power of choosing your path. Rey chooses to look into the dark, but still lean light. Finn and Poe choose to risk everything for the chance to save the Resistance. Rose chooses to give up her last tie to her sister for a cause she believes in. And Kylo? Kylo chooses to forsake Ben Solo. Kylo chooses the path of murder. The path of absolute darkness. Kylo looks redemption full in the face and raises his middle finger at it. He chooses not to be Anakin Skywalker--who overthrew his master to save his son--but to be his own man. Which is not to say he is a good man. He actively chooses not to be a good man. It makes him a very human villain. There is no universe in which a unilaterally evil character is more interesting than one with layers.

I like that this movie recognizes that moral grayscale is where the world exists. The Jedi failed because they pretended they were above human darkness. Rey represents genuine balance. I appreciate this about her. I appreciate that they let her do exactly what Luke did in Empire: go into the cave. Face your darkness. But, unlike Luke, Rey hasn't learned to fear her darkness. She simply uses it like a tool, and sets it back on the shelf until it's needed  again. She does not shy from a fight, but she does not recklessly murder, either. She is the middle ground.

Another possibly unpopular opinion: I like the idea that Rey comes from no special legacy. Now, it's very true that Kylo may have been lying to her about this, trying to coax her to his side; his playbook is full of abusive tactics, and this is a classic one. Personally, I like the idea that the Force was so desperate for finally achieving balance after all those ridiculous Skywalkers failed in the journey, and just went, "Fuck it. I'm making my own." Rey: Daughter of the Fed-Up Force.

That said, if he was telling the truth, and she did come from people who truly are not part  of the bigger story, people who really do not care about her...doesn't that make Rey being a strong, self-sufficient, incredibly big-hearted human so much more impressive? Rey did not come from parents who loved her, like Ben Solo did. She did not grow up with a Jedi Master uncle believing in her. She did not come from a long line of power and legacy. Rey was self-taught in every way. Rey was alone. Rey made dolls and scrounged helmets and learned to be a whole person all by herself. She's an excellent example of how you do not need a bloodline or a legacy to be an interesting, powerful person.

Chewie with the Porgs. Okay, listen. Listen. I know they're everywhere right now. I knoweveryone burned out on Porgs. But look: Chewbacca in the aftermath of his lifelong best friend dying, adopting these little bird creatures like a widower adopting a therapy animal to offset his grief? I am not made of stone, people.