#but also I’m so terrible at texting so it’s just a double edge sword

[goodboy4femmes]

I hate texting first for fear of bothering them but I’m SO needy for attention

[obeymeluv]

Signs they Love You (Pt. 2)

This semester is almost over and while the teacher is a bit disorganized, I have a semblance of breathing room. I thought I’d pop this out real quick and maybe something smaller. Baby-related thing still pending. I want to do it, just not quite enough time yet.

Part 2 has Asmo, Beel, and Belphie.

Belphie’s is not long AT ALL because...well, it’s Belphie. And it’s me. I’m so-so with Belphie.

Asmodeus

For once, his charm and sin is a double-edged sword

Yes, he’s very experienced and has had many lovers--many splendid little things over hundreds of years--but how to make it unique? How to tell you?

Asmo is very calculated in how he flirts, from what he wears and what he plans to say. He personally believes every relationship should be special. No repeated dates unless both people have a preference for it

So when he decides he likes you, the first thing he does is pull out this BIG ASS BOOK he’s kept for centuries and leafs through it to see what he’s done before

 No, it doesn’t matter that 99% of these dates were AGES before you were born. He’s checking the list because YOU DESERVE A SPECIAL DATE!

He’s secretly hoping you’ll get some of the many hints he’ll be dropping, but consulting the book is also a good idea for an official first date

After two weeks of shopping with you, taking spa days, trying to weasel his way into more cuddles, Asmo decides it’s time to pull out The Book idea because you’re not getting it

You’re just distracted by his beauty to see the fact that he’s trying to flirt. It’s fine.

This date idea requires the big guns (really only Diavolo, but he needs Lucifer to get to Diavolo). He’s setting his plan into motion, trying to sweet-talk Lucifer into taking him by Diavolo’s castle but Mammon overhears

The second-eldest is very unimpressed, DARES to mock him while sipping noisily on a soda, and just asks him why he doesn’t tell you straight up.

“Because it’s a stupid, tasteless idea.” Asmodeus scoffs and shoos him away like an annoying little thing as he amps up the charm and resumes his conversation with Lucifer.

“Bet it’ll work.” is all he hears Mammon murmur.

“Look,” Mammon shrugs. flicks his eyes to Asmo and then just nods his head towards you as you come around the corner into the dining room. “You just man up and say, ‘Do you--SMFF!”)

Asmo has never strangled anyone to death but today it might happen

Or he’s going to break this new six inch heel off in Mammon’s mouth (or his ass)

With Mammon sufficiently strangled (or choking on his soda, he’s not sure which) Asmo, plays it cool (barely) as you pass through to do something else (thank god!)

Highly amused, Lucifer agrees to help him

By the end of the week Asmodeus has a cute greenhouse picnic planned. Only Satan and Lucifer know

He’s pretty scarce around the House of Lamentation, even turning Solomon down once or twice, but it’s all worth it for the set up. He even bought special flowers

Barbatos escorts you through the winding greenhouse that almost seems lush and trim enough to be part of the Royal Gardens. He stops just before a manicured arch of flowers, the walkway studded with garden lights, stepping stones, and beautiful roses

He goads you forward, sending you on your way. The little roses perk up and explode into gorgeous blooms

And they’re talking?! One of the notecards say they’re a Devildom brand of rose--a mimicrose. The flower acts like a recorded, hiding a secret message, and blooms when it’s delivered to the right person

Your face lights up a gorgeous flattered color as you make your way down the trail compliments popping up every step

Asmo’s waiting at the end of the arches, looking like the cat that ate the canary with his catered spread. Sitting pretty on the classic checkered blanket.  

You only kind of hear the last rose confess--Asmo’s voice going quiet and shy as he swears he really, really loves you

The demon in front of you seems very far from that shy voice but you catch the tinge of pink on his cheeks. He saunters up to you and says something witty about how only he could be perfect for you, and that only perfect him could set all this up!

You two have a cute, quiet date with little cakes and finger foods

Diavolo sends Lucifer a text with a blurry photo saying he ‘photobombed’ you two, but doesn’t realize he has to be in the photo for it to count. Lucifer still thinks it’s a cute picture

Beelzebub:

It takes Beel a while to come around to the fact that he might like you

Not because he doesn’t like you, but because he’s equally comfy being friends. Friends are fine, too.

Even as a friend he still gets that giddy rush when he holds you, that flood of warmth when he impresses you, so for a while he thinks he has the best of both worlds

When that balance starts to feel threatened, the realization creeps in

Then he realizes there’s no going back and if he doesn’t say anything, you get caught up with other people and he’ll miss you. You just won’t be around as much anymore!

 When someone on the Fangol team starts getting a little too curious and close, the red flags go flying in Beel’s mind. He needs to tell you and tell you now!

Probably doesn’t have an extensive dating history and is, in general, the best sweet boi, so he’ll ask around for ideas. The second someone suggests a cupcake message or cake message, he’s done. No more ideas! That’s the best one!

To put his feelings in it, Beel decides to make the cupcakes himself. He buys enough to make 3 or 4 dozen cupcakes because he anticipates stress eating at least two batches

And the ugly ones. Can’t give you ugly ones!

He takes full advantage of Asmo or whoever getting you out of the house, throwing on a little apron and getting to work. Belphie supervises, occasionally scolding him

Beel eats a few cupcakes more than he’s supposed to and decides to draw frosting people so the space doesn’t feel empty

His frosting spelling isn’t that great. One of the words look weird. More than one, actually

Trying to write over it just makes extra frosting, unreadable globs

Beel eats that one, then realizes he messed up some of the topping, so he smooths it out and tries again

Belphie plays wingman, fully aware of his brother panicking over presentation and trying to spell (and not squeeze the life out of the frosting bag), and writes little love messages on the wrappers

It’s stuff he’s heard Beel say in his sleep for at least a week.

Beel resigns himself to a mash of cupcakes that are kind of readable and way less than what he planned to have. He doesn’t know Belphie’s done a gradual bait and switch of the cupcake liners since he’s eaten just as many as he’s made

You see a smiley face and the frosting people and it’s enough to melt your heart

Beel is speckled in flour and frosting (he’s got crumbs on the corner of his mouth), and he looks adorably awkward in the apron. He’s so nervous he’s in his demon form, wings buzzing frantically behind him.

It’s like he wants to take off and make nervous circles around you.

He stutters out an awkward ‘I like you’ and mumbles other things. Belphie, who’s curled up under the prep table, grumbles out ‘READ THE LINERS!’ before snuggling down again

You and Beel go on a cute little hunt to pick and read the wrappers, splitting cupcakes with each other.

At the end of it you’re very full and very happy. And Beel’s extra delighted because you smell (and taste) like cupcakes.

Belphegor

Does he like you like you, or just like the fact that you don’t bother him?

In his book, you’re not terrible. Not annoying. You don’t wake him up on purpose, and you seem to get along with Beel.

Not bad, right?

Maybe this means he just doesn’t have high standards?

He knows he wouldn’t mind napping with you. Maybe that means he likes you?

One night, when he’s hit that ‘slept all day’ high and he’s awake and thinking it over. He asks Beel about it because who else would know him better than his twin?

Then he learns. OH BOY DOES HE LEARN!

Apparently he talks about you in his sleep? And he blushes? CUDDLES THE PILLOW?

Beel is hardly worried about the threats, the finger pointing in his face, and the way he’s bobbing his head like a bull about to charge. It’s just standard little brother things! Very cute!

Belphegor feels bad and a little unworthy to date you. His sin is very taxing and he spends a lot of the time napping. Is it really a good idea?

It’s a heavy issue to think about, and he dreams.

Belphegor has always believed that dreams are a way for you to work out the issues you have when you’re awake, so he’s not surprised to dream about you

The dreams are so vivid, so heart-warming, and he’s so happy. It’s all about you and him--snippets of dates that he can’t completely see. He’s not sure where you’re at or what led up to the moments, but they’re all a happy, quiet cuddle that gives him more energy than he’s felt in a while

He knows, then, that he should at least ask you. When he gets his next burst of rested energy, he’s going to confess

Belphegor’s nearly scared straight out of bed when he sees you tentatively approaching it. He musters up enough concentration to hold a conversation and is VERY embarrassed to find he basically called you here

Almost like a subliminal message, or sharing a dream, you just simply had to come and tell him about the adorably awkward dream. It was very cuddly and kind of put you in a cuddling mood

Belphegor’s got a major case of sleep brain but it sounds like YOU actually just confessed

Plays the big card--go big or go home!--”If you like me, get in the bed.”

Realizes about 3 seconds later how that sounds. Is very embarrassed and wants to hide under his blankets and die. 

He’s already wormed under them and is firmly cocooned (so he doesn’t have to look you in the face or see if you stay) “You know...if you like me. Want to cuddle and stuff...like a couple...”

He feels your weight spread out along his bed and scoops you up like a blanket monster. It’s like being swallowed by a fitted sheet, blanket coming at you from all sides, and you both laugh about it.

Belphegor is a big fan of the private cuddle pile

[homestuckexamination]

Purple pros are in bold text

Purple Signs are the workaholics of the sign classes. Ambitious and driven, they have a very specific path in mind to reach the pinnacle of their field, and will work tirelessly toward it. However, if their practical brains convince them that their goal is unrealistic, they may be slow to trust anyone with the secret of their true desires. They are often very funny, their wit veering toward the dryly macabre. Their fatalism can be incredibly humorous or terrible, depending who you ask. Purple Signs are usually the people who will say out loud what everyone else was thinking but was too nervous to mention. They are very stubborn, and once they’ve made up their mind about something, whether it be a restaurant choice or a political affiliation, it is difficult to change. They have trouble admitting they were mistaken, and also that they are upset. An oft-repeated phrase of the Purple Signs is, “It’s fine, don’t worry about it.” They will let arguments fester rather than face them head on. In love they tend to be strictly monogamous and fiercely devoted, ready to pledge themselves to a person the same way they do their goals-utterly, and without reservation.

Hiveswap blood+aspect test

Like the other blood castes, these descriptions are patterned after archetypal/stereotypical traits associated with each Zodiac sign. For example, I relate to at least over half of these, sometimes some others, and one that doesn’t really describe me. The stubborn part is a double-edged sword. Being hard-headed makes you determined, on the other side, foolhardy. Dark comedy also isn’t for everyone. 

A lot of these traits can be found in the Makaras, actually.

Oh huh I actually forgot Castes also had descriptions. Fiercely devoted is good but Strictly Monogamous is kind of just a neutral trait. Similarly, I’m not sure being a Workaholic is necessarily good! And while conviction can be good, being too stubborn about certain things can also be detrimental. So a lot of it is very context-dependant.

[lycorogue]

Love Square Fluff Week: Part 4 - Comfort

Yup, I’m late to the party for this, but I was determined to participate in @lovesquarefluffweek so I’m just expanding it to Fluff Month and chugging along. At least I’m past the half-way point now.

You can read the full chapter below, or check it out on AO3, on FFN, or on DA

Playing House

Summary: Adrien finally has a day to spend with his friends, but Marinette can't join in on the fun because she has to babysit Manon. Alya thinks they can do better than that....

Word Count: 5093 Rating: General Audience Spoilers: Major - Miracle Queen/ML Season 3 finale spoiler,  Minor - Sandboy spoiler, Puppeteer 2 spoiler, and Startrain spoiler Love Square Side: Adrienette Romance Level: Sweet Friendship

“What do you mean you can't come?” Alya whined into the phone, she then turned it to show Nino talking to Adrien past her shoulder.

“Sorry, Alya. You know I would love to do nothing more than hang out with you guys – especially Adrien,” Marinette dreamily cooed, “But I'm watching Manon again, and after that whole Puppeteer incident, I should probably make sure she gets my full attention this time.”

“But Adrien is actually out of the house.” Alya dropped her voice so he couldn't overhear her, and practically hissed through the video call.

“I know,” Marinette whined. “Trust me, I want to, but I really can't.”

“You need to learn how to say no, girl, and I don't mean to me.”

Marinette gave a half-smile. “I know, but Mrs. Chamack really needed me. What was I supposed to tell her, that she couldn't go to work?”

“Marinette!” Manon whined off screen behind her. “Play with me!”

“Coming. Sorry, Alya, I have to go.” Marinette waved goodbye before ending the call.

Alya pocketed her phone and walked back to the boys.

“Alya? Something wrong?” Nino walked over, reaching out a hand for hers.

“Nothing. Marinette won't be joining us. She has to babysit again.”

“But-” Nino gestured towards Adrien. Alya simply held up a hand and shook her head.

“That's a shame.” Adrien glanced down at his phone, wondering if he should call Marinette, or maybe text her to let her know she'd be missed. It was a bit of a double-edged sword though, as he knew well. It always made him feel better that his friends missed him when he couldn't hang out, but it also made him realize what he was missing out on. He couldn't rub salt in the wound on her.

Alya elbowed Nino and nodded over towards Adrien. “Yeah,” she said with a hint of mischievousness. “It really is a shame, isn't it?”

“Yeah.” Adrien nodded, and then began retreating from his friends, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, have fun, you two.”

“Wait. 'Have fun'? Where are you going?” Nino asked.

Adrien thumbed behind him. “Without Marinette hanging out with us, I figured maybe you two would want to make this into a date or something. I didn't want to intrude-”

“No way!” Alya hooked an arm around Adrien's and dragged him forward again. “We're friends too, aren't we? What, you can't hang out with me without Marinette around?” She winked at him, making him laugh.

“Sorry. I didn't mean to imply that we aren't friends. I just thought-”

“Dude, you're out of the house! We can't let an opportunity like this to slip.” Nino took Adrien's other arm, and the couple playfully pulled Adrien along with them. “So, what should we do?”

Alya's phone buzzed. She pulled it out and stared bewildered at it. “Another video call from Marinette?” She opened it, and saw Manon's face fill the screen. The Dupain-Cheng's living room was a blur behind her as the girl sprinted around it. Off screen, Marinette yelled for Manon to give the phone back.

“Alya?” Manon chirped when she noticed the video call was answered. “Alya! Come play with us!”

“Manon?” Alya held the phone out for the boys to also see it, shrugging. “Why do you have Marinette's phone?”

“She's no fun. I'd rather play with you- hey!” Manon had slowed down enough for Marinette to catch up and snatch the phone back.

“Sorry, Alya. Ignore us. Have fun, okay?” She gave a sheepish grin before turning to scold Manon as she hung up the video call.

“Wow. That looked rough. I feel bad for Marinette.” Adrien knit his eyebrows, wondering what he could do to help this time.

“Sorry, boys,” Alya pulled away from them and took a few steps backward. “Looks like she really needs my help. I'm gonna have to flake.”

“We could help,” Nino offered.

“Nah, you two have a guy's day or something. Nino, I'll catch ya later?”

Nino nodded, and Alya blew him a kiss goodbye as she started jogging over to Marinette's.

“Is that what having a younger sibling is like?” Adrien cocked his head to the side, sincerely curious.

Nino shrugged. “My little dude can be a handful at times, but Manon is a ball of energy on a whole new level. Frankly, it's like Alya's little sisters were training for her to be able to handle Manon. She's amazing with kids, isn't she?” He looked vaguely in the direction Alya had jogged off.

“I feel bad that there isn't anything we could do to help Marinette. She looked really stressed in that video call.”

Nino smirked, then tried to fix a poker face a second later. “You wanna head over anyway? Manon seemed manageable when all four of us were watching her, and I bet Marinette would love the help.”

Adrien lit up. “Yeah! Let's go. We have to make the most of me getting out of the house, right? So might as well hang out with as many friends as I can.”

Nino gave a nod, and the two of them started jogging after Alya.

 ~o~o~o~o~o~

“Manon! Manon, no! Manon, put that down before you break it!” Marinette raced after the five-year-old, leaping over her family's sectional in order to scoop a box out of the kid's hand just before it was dropped. Sighing out relief for saving the little treasure box her mom kept on the bookshelf, Marinette stood on her tiptoes to place it on the top shelf in order to try to keep it out of Manon's hands.

She then dropped the box herself when a knock on the door startled her. Luckily, she was able to juggle and catch it at the last second. Breathing out another sigh, she walked over to the door, box tucked under her arm.

“Alya?” Marinette blinked a few times, registering who was on the other side. “Nino? A-Adrien? Wh-what are you all doing here?”

“Marinette,” Manon whined, “who is it?”

“It's me, kiddo.” Alya walked in and knelt down with arms open, waiting for the leaping hug Manon inevitably gave her.

“Uni! You came to play!” Manon giggled as Alya lifted her up and spun her around real quick.

“I told you that you didn't need to come here.” Marinette stared wide-eyed as the boys waved and walked in after Alya.

“We know, but we figured we'd help you out with this little demon,” Alya teased in a baby voice, booping Manon on the nose and causing the child to squeal with delight.

“You needed help, and it seemed more fun for us all to hang out and help.” Adrien placed a hand on Marinette's shoulder and gave her the softest smile. She nearly melted.

“Thank thew- Tank you!” Marinette cringed. “Thank you, I mean.”

Adrien laughed. His adorable, eyes closed, shoulders shaking laugh. It took all Marinette had to not swoon. As her body softened she nearly dropped the trinket box again. Startled back alert, she caught it and once more attempted to put it on the top shelf so Manon couldn't reach it. She stretched as tall as she could on her toes, her finger tips balancing the box on the front edge of the shelf. Adrien stepped in, rolled onto his toes, and easily pushed the box onto the shelf, his hand lingering between Marinette's for a moment.

“Like I said,” he teased, “it looked like you needed help.”

Marinette broke eye contact, blushing a little as she thanked him.

“No problem. Just, ya know, don't forget to ask for help sometimes, 'kay?”

Marinette shared a private laugh. “Ya know, you're not the first person to tell me that this past week.”

“Then maybe you should listen.” He gave her a small shoulder bump with his own, then gestured for them to get back to Manon, who was currently trying to fight back against two Tickle Monsters.

Adrien instantly jumped in to tag Alya out as he also began tickling Manon's belly, causing the girl to squeal and giggle.

“What on earth happened here?” Alya pointed to the little kitchenette covered in flour, some dough splatter, smears of frosting, and a small tower of dishes. “You had a battle against the Cupcake Kingdom or something?”

Marinette rubbed the back of her head, sheepishly laughing as she shrugged. “I thought I could keep her occupied by teaching her how to make cookies.”

“So you gave Manon sugar?”

Marinette shrugged.

“Girl, girl, girl.” Alya pinched the bridge of her nose as she shook her head, a small grin stretching across her lips. “How do you keep getting babysitting gigs? I love ya and all, but you're kinda terrible at it.”

“I know.” Marinette folded in half in defeat, causing Alya to chuckle.

“Girl, it's fine. We're here now and-”

“Oh no!” Nino called out in melodramatic terror. “I've been betrayed!”

Adrien and Manon slowly stalked after Nino before chasing him down and trying to tickle him instead. The way Adrien crept up on Nino reminded Marinette of the nightmare version Sandboy had created, and she shuddered slightly.

“Come on!” Alya didn't seem to notice Marinette's temporary unease as she grabbed her best friend's hand and dragged her to the group. The five of them had a massive tickle fight for the next ten minutes, the players each switching between Manon's and Nino's sides, depending on who tickled them last.

Eventually tickled out, and a bit exhausted from all the squealing and laughter, they all collapsed on the sectional. All of them but Manon, that is, who recovered after a few deep breaths.

“That was fun! What's next?” She bounced over to Marinette, grabbing her hands and tugging.

“Next?” Marinette whimpered, and scanned the room for the living room clock, checking to see when Mrs. Chamack should be back. “Two more hours,” she muttered under her breath, but unknowingly loud enough for Alya to pickup.

“What do you want to do next, you little terror?” Alya knelt beside Manon, tapping her lap to catch the girl's attention.

Manon rambled off a long list of crazy activities, from watching a PG-13 movie to riding a pony to meeting the real Jagged Stone to defeating a villain with Ladybug and Chat Noir to swimming in a pool of chocolate pudding.

As Manon rattled off her To Do list to Alya, Adrien glanced over at Marinette. Her eyes were closed, and her head rested against the back of the sectional. Her chest slowly rose and fell, as if she were meditating. The poor girl looked exhausted.

Nino caught Adrien watching Marinette, and glanced over himself. Almost instantly, he tapped Alya's shoulder and nodded over at Marinette as well. Alya kept chatting with Manon, keeping the girl's attention on her as Alya quickly stole a look over at Marinette.

“That all sounds amazing! What a day!” Alya indulged Manon as she stood up. “You think we can fit it all in before your mom gets back?”

As Manon was distracted by the mental calculations on how much time they had for everything, and potentially narrowing her list a touch, Alya mouthed over to the boys 'did she fall asleep?'

Discreetly, Nino leapt over the back of the sectional, and walked around to Marinette. He leaned in close, whispering her name. She simply gave a soft moan back. He nodded at Alya, who silently chuckled.

“Hey, Manon. It's super nice outside. Wanna go play in the park for a little bit?”

“Yay! Park!” Manon bounced up and down before turning to Marinette. Then she abruptly stopped. “Marinette?”

“Looks like Marinette needs a couple of minutes, but you and I can still play in the park right? Maybe with Nino too?” Alya again knelt so she could talk softly in the girl's ear.

“But Marinette's supposed to be watching me.” Manon scooped up Marinette's hand and gripped it tight, causing the three teens to hold their breath; waiting for Marinette to bolt awake. Instead, she gave a little snore and sleepily squeezed Manon's hand back.

“Come on, Manon,” Alya coaxed. “Marinette's tired. Your mom won't mind, and wouldn't you rather be in the park? Marinette can join us once she wakes up.”

“Um.” Manon looked up at Marinette, then over at Nino and Adrien. Both boys smiled and gave reassuring nods. “Nino is coming too?”

“Yeah, little dudette.” He held out his hand for Manon to fist bump, which she gladly did.

“And Adrien?” Manon looked up at him with doe eyes.

“Sure.” Adrien smiled.

“Actually,” Alya rebutted, “Someone should stay here and start cleaning up. Adrien, do you mind doing that?”

“Oh. Yeah. Sure.” Adrien's smile stayed, but he felt like he was getting ditched.

“Great. Manon, why don't you pack up your backpack so we have all of your toys, okay?” Alya gave the girl a gentle push on her back, and the five-year-old skipped away to gather her things. Alya then turned back to Adrien. “Thanks. You're a lifesaver. We really need someone to stay here with Marinette. That way you can let her know where Manon is – and that she's safe – when she wakes up. Also, that way someone can text us if Manon's mom gets back before we do.”

“Okay. I can do that.”

“And don't worry about the kitchen if you don't want to clean. We just need someone with Marinette is all.”

Adrien's smile turned sincere. “Nah, it's okay. It really does look like Marinette needs help, and I'm happy to.”

“I knew you would be.” Alya gave Adrien a quick air-kiss by each of his cheeks. “You're a prince.”

“Alya!” Manon pulled on her hand.

“Okay, munchkin.” Alya scooped the girl up in her arms and headed for the door. Nino held it open for the girls, and rested a hand on the small of Alya's back as she passed. “Thanks again, Adrien,” Alya called past her shoulder, and Adrien couldn't help but feel like those two were playing house with Manon, and he was playing babysitter with a passed out Marinette. The thought made him laugh as he waved the couple off.

Behind him, Marinette gave a soft, satisfied moan, and slumped further into her seat. Adrien blushed a little at how adorable she looked. As careful as he could, he cradled her head and gently lowered her so she was laying across the cushions. Looking around, he found a throw blanket and draped it over her. She gave another satisfied moan and curled tighter under the blanket.

She truly looked exhausted. Adrien wondered what else she had overburdened herself with, and why she didn't seem to have learned anything from when he helped her make flowers. It made him think of Ladybug and her new responsibilities as Guardian. He wondered how exhausted she must look without her mask.

“You two are two of a kind,” Adrien joked as he brushed some stray hair out of Marinette's eyes. Sleepily, she rolled her head to follow his fingers, nuzzling his hand. It instantly stilled him. He watched her sleep for a few seconds, musing about how relaxed she looked right then. It was like when they were traveling to London together; one of the few times she didn't seem stressed out around him. Before he realized what he was doing, his hand was on her back, rubbing small circles through the blanket, trying to soothe her further. He didn't even know he was wishing for another soft, happy moan until one escaped her lips.

He stayed kneeling beside Marinette, softly rubbing her back, for a little while, hoping the comforting touch would keep her lulled in her sleep. She looked like she needed as much as she could steal. As Chat Noir, he understood how precious sleep could be.

Roughly twenty minutes after Alya and Nino left with Manon, Adrien's feet finally started to lose feeling, and his shoulder softly ached from the angle he was holding it to rub Marinette's back. Giving up on his impromptu task, he instead rocked back into a seated position, his back against the sectional, and his head nestled by Marinette's abdomen. He simply glanced out the window, enjoying the clouds drifting by, and the sound of Marinette's slow, heavy breathing behind him.

It wasn't what he was picturing when he found out he had an afternoon to spend with his friends, but he was happy all the same. There was something about being near Marinette; being able to help her, being in the same room as her, having someone besides Plagg nearby – nothing against the kwami or anything.

As if the magical being could read Adrien's head, Plagg poked out of the teen's shirt. “Psst. Adrien. Are we gonna do anything? I'm bored and hungry.”

“Plagg! Stay hidden! What if Marinette wakes up?” Adrien hissed back.

“At least start up the TV or a game or something? Even I can only catnap for so long. It's so boring.”

“It's not boring. It's nice. I feel relaxed here.”

“Can you at least get me some food?”

Adrien looked over at the kitchenette. He probably should help clean it up the best he could while he was waiting; help Marinette further. Maybe he could also find something little that Plagg could swipe without anyone noticing, that way he could save the camembert slice for if they had to battle an akuma.

He walked over to the sink, looked around for a minute, found a washcloth, wet it, and started wiping down the peninsula counter top. While Plagg complained about it being too sweet for his tastes, he still licked up the blobs of frosting and raw dough, just so he had something in his belly.

The counter was nearly clean when Marinette again moaned from the sectional, this time a deep and long one as she woke up.

“Manon?” she called out in a daze.

“She's at the park with Alya and Nino,” Adrien informed her as he continued his wipe down of the kitchen.

“Okay,” Marinette yawned and curled back under the blanket for a second. Then everything registered, and she leapt up, flinging the blanket off her. “Wait, she's where?” She whipped around, and saw only Adrien still in her apartment with her. She was alone with Adrien. Adrien had seen her passed out again. Adrien was washing down her mess in her kitchen.

“It's cool.” Adrien hadn't seen her freak out, too busy focusing on a particularly caked on portion of the counter. “You looked like you really needed a rest, and Alya and Nino are great with kids. Alya said you and Mrs. Chamack would be cool with them taking Manon for a little bit.”

“Wh-what are you doing?” Marinette stiffly marched to the counter, dumbly watching Adrien as he rinsed off the washcloth and attacked the splashes of dough that managed to spray across the front of the refrigerator door. As he walked over from the sink, he plucked one of the remaining cookies off a plate.

He held it up and glanced past his shoulder at Marinette. “Is it alright to have one?” She numbly nodded, so he popped it in his mouth. “Mmm. I don't think I'll ever get over how good your baking is.”

“A-Adrien.” Marinette held herself up against the counter as she rounded it. “Why are you cleaning?”

“Hmm?” He paused to steal a glance over at her before shrugging and getting back to scrubbing down the refrigerator door. “Oh. Alya wanted someone to stay here to make sure you and Mrs. Chamack knew where Manon was. Going to the park was her idea, so clearly Alya couldn't stay, and it made sense for Nino to go with.”

“Yeah, but-” Marinette gestured towards the refrigerator.

“It needed to be cleaned, right?”

“Right.” Marinette drew out the word. “But why are you cleaning it? It wasn't your mess.”

“I don't mind.” Finished with the door, Adrien again went to the sink to refresh the cloth. Marinette jogged up behind him, her arms out to the side to block him when he turned around. “It's okay, Marinette. You looked overwhelmed, and I had nothing better to do. It's not that big of a deal. Friends help each other, don't they?”

“You're too kind, Adrien.”

“It's not that big of a deal, seriously. You'd do the same.”

“Yeah, well, I'm awake now. I can finish this.” She held her hand out for the washcloth.

Adrien rebutted by opening the cabinet he got the cloth from, and gestured to a few others stacked inside. “Or, we can clean it together and get done faster?”

“Adrien, no. You're a guest. This is too much. I can't ask you to do this.”

“You didn't ask. It's not too much. And I want to spend time with you anyway, so we might as well spend time doing this.”

“You- you want to- with- with me?”

Adrien cocked his head to the side. “Is that so surprising? We're friends, aren't we?”

“Yeah.” Marinette moved past him, a bit defeated, and picked up a washcloth. “Friends.”

They were silent for a little while, each picking a different corner of the kitchenette to clean. Adrien wondered what he said wrong. Marinette focused too hard on the word 'friend' and all its implied meaning.

“Okay, well, thanks for helping with the kitchen.” Once the surface areas were cleaned, Marinette collected Adrien's washcloth from him, and rinsed them both off in the sink before putting them to the side to be washed. “You can go ahead and find Alya and Nino. I'm sure you'll have more fun with them.”

“I'm having a good enough time here.” Adrien sidled beside her and picked up the dish soap. “Besides, we still have these to clean, right?” He began filling the sink, and squirted far too much soap into it, the bubbles already starting to froth up the sides of the basin.

“Adrien!” Marinette giggled as she snatched the soap from his hands. “What are you doing? That was way too much!”

“Oh.” Adrien looked at the sink nearly filled with suds within those few short seconds. “Sorry. I never actually did dishes before.”

“So you thought you'd start with mine?” Marinette was too focused on the task of decreasing the bubble surplus to remember who she was talking to. There was a playfulness in her voice that Adrien rarely was on the receiving end of, and it skipped his heart for a second.

“Here. Let me help.” With a mischievousness twinkle, Adrien scooped up a handful of suds, and smacked them in Marinette's face.

She gasped at the attack, giggled, and scooped up her own handful to throw at Adrien. He ducked, swooped around her, scooped up more suds, and went for her face again. She squealed like when they were in their massive tickle war, and ducked below his arm, throwing her hands up to stop him. The suds ended up plopping on her head, and she again gasped.

Her eyes narrowing, she dove for the sink, dodging Adrien's attempt to block her. She threw soap at him, but he shielded himself with his hands. It was now Adrien's turn to go on the offensive, but the sink water had risen higher than he realized. When he scooped up the handful of soap he ended up splashing Marinette instead. She retaliated, grabbing the sink hose and spraying him with a few squirts.

The two teens laughed as their battle continued, only stopping when Marinette noticed that the sink was about to overflow.

“So much for helping you clean up the kitchen.” Adrien wiped his face dry as he looked around at the water and soap bubbles pooled on the floor.

“Yeah, I think we got a little carried away.” Marinette turned off the water, then pulled out a towel and dropped it to the floor to sop up the puddles.

“It was fun, though.” Adrien knelt down to take the towel from under Marinette's foot, and began to run it across the tiled floor to help clean again.

“Yeah. It was. Thank you, Adrien.” Her cheeks flushed, and she whipped around towards the sink to hide her blush. Humming to herself, she began washing the dishes.

Adrien sweetly looked up at her as he finished his chore. There were only a choice-few times that Marinette seemed so relaxed around him. Well, around him him, she was fairly chill around Chat Noir him. It was always amazing when Marinette let her wall down; when she allowed herself to just be comfortable around him. He always had the best time with her when she was like that.

Nino would always be his best friend, but even around him, Adrien felt a sort of obligation to act a certain way. He had to focus on what it was like to be a “true teen” and follow Nino's lead whenever he pointed out how sheltered Adrien was. It was hard to tell Nino that there were parts of his life he was actually fine with. His BFF would just argue back that it was because Adrien didn't know any better.

Alya was also cool, but she was so high energy. It was actually a little exhausting trying to keep up with her sometimes. Plus, she always seemed to have a hidden agenda whenever they hung out. Adrien didn't hold it against her, and in fact found it part of her that he loved, but it could be a bit much. He had to have his guard up at all times around her, for fear that she'd catch a whiff of him being Chat Noir.

Kagami was also an amazing friend, but she was just as sheltered as he was. Whenever he was with her, he felt like he had to be purposefully rebellious to help show her how to have a good time. A way for them to break away from their overbearing parents. She also was too focused on what was considered 'noble' or 'proper' and seemed a bit judgmental when he wanted to just play video games or talk about comic books. Kagami certainly was not the friend to talk pop-culture with.

Marinette, though? Adrien could truly be himself around her. She didn't seem to ever really judge him, or see him as a rich shut-in, or try to pry into his life. She just let him be whomever he was. He could be serious, or goofy, or straight-laced, or a little rebellious, and she ran with it. It was almost like being Chat Noir, even out of the mask.

Better, actually. Even when he was Chat Noir, he had to be a certain way. Marinette proved that when she laughed at him crafting beside her. He had to be in superhero mode most of the time. The only exception seemed to be when his heart was broken and Marinette let him just be sad with her.

There were no such restrictions for Adrien when he was out of costume and just with Marinette.

“Here.” He pulled out another towel from where Marinette grabbed the first one. “Let me dry them.” He held out the towel for Marinette to place the mixing bowl in.

She studied him a moment, her lips lightly puckered and her eyes soft. Dark circles still hid under the now smudged cover-up, but she looked a bit more refreshed than she was before. Accepting the offer, Marinette placed the bowl in the towel cradle, then picked up the next dish to clean.

As Adrien dried the bowl and placed it on the counter for Marinette to put away, he watched her work. There was certainly something almost serene to her quietly splashing in over-soaped dish water, the warm glow of the setting sun casting orange rays through the window in front of them. She handed one of the mixer beaters to him, then got started on another one.

“Adrien?”

“Hmm?”

“Thank you. It means a lot that you spent your day away from home helping me babysit and clean up. You could have done virtually anything, but you chose this.”

“No problem, Marinette. I'm always happy to help you. Honestly, sometimes I think you take on too much.”

She snorted a little laugh. “You're one to talk.” She gave him a playful side-eye before refocusing on rinsing off the other beater and handing it to him.

“True, but it's different with you, I think. People depend on you so much. I just worry that you put too much on your shoulders. You can tell people no, you know, if you're overwhelmed. You can also ask for help.”

Marinette froze, her hands hovered above the soapy sink basin, watching Adrien carefully as he finished his drying and placing the second beater beside the first in the mixing bowl. When he turned back to her, she jumped and got back to washing out the measuring cups.

“Something wrong?”

“Huh?” Marinette didn't look at him. She kept her eyes on the dishes as she rinsed, blindly handed off to Adrien, and started up the next measuring cup. “No. Nothing. Just- I've been told that before too.”

“By someone smart, I'd wager,” Adrien fought to hide his smirk. Didn't matter. Marinette still wasn't looking at him.

“Yeah. Yeah, perhaps he is.” She didn't want to chance adding in 'and possibly very dumb too' despite feeling it strongly. Instead, she reveled in the fact that she was helped twice that week by super sweet guys, and that one of them was the boy of her dreams, helping her clean dishes. Maybe life wasn't as out of control as she once feared when she got the Miracle Box transferred to her possession.

If life consisted of quiet evenings alone with Adrien, doing stupid little chores, Marinette would be more than happy. Adrien would be too.

@discoveringmiraculouswriters

[angeme8een-blog]

Casualties and Survivors

CHAPTER 1: AIRPORT LOUNGES AND FIDGETING LEGS

The romanticisation of airports has made life more difficult for travellers. It has permitted such overwhelming, not to mention unnecessary, public display of affection that inconveniences those who just want to methodically get from one country to another. Case in point are the hipster lovers who refused to detach their lips from each other, causing quite a ruckus at the drop-off lane. The already noise-polluted terminal air got more chaotic as several cab drivers started honking and yelling expletives at the tanned brunette and her blond lover.

“These young people know no manners anymore, aist!” Mr. Yang expressed his irritation as he scratched the side of his head. Brett wanted to give a cheeky response but he caught himself in fear of being given a proper lecture. Showing your dad how sassy your mouth is on a terribly hot day is a formula for disaster, and Brett knew well enough not to further rile-up his dad when his Chinese accent has already come through. Besides, he was just 30 seconds away from getting out of his dad’s 1997 Toyota Corolla. Might as well keep his thoughts to himself.

“Bretty boy, where is Eddy, huh?” his dad asked as he parked the car on an open drop-off spot and turned on the hazard light. Brett unlocked the passenger’s seat and began collecting his things while responding “he’s probably near. He told me his mom wanted to personally see him leave, unlike the last time we went on tour.” Mr. Yang helped Brett carry his luggage to the curb and onto a trolley before giving his son a hug.

“Now you go with my blessing. Be very good and kind, especially to Eddy. Call your mom from time to time, okay?”

“I will, dad. Thanks again for dropping me off. You should go back to the car before security decides to clamp your tire”

“Aist! I’m an old man, they should show respect!” Mr. Yang scratched the side of his head once more before going back to his car. Brett waved a final goodbye before he pushed his trolley towards the entrance. Once inside, Brett brought out his phone to check-up on Eddy.

“Bro, where you at? I’m already in line for security”

“Bro, please don’t kill me but I’m going to have to take the next flight out tomorrow morning. My sister went into labor five minutes after I left my house. We had to go back home to fetch her because no one else could drive her to the hospital. So now I’m here with Ma and we’re rushing to Queen Elizabeth’s” Eddy explained.

“It’s been 9 months already!? Damn, I totally forgot that Belle was pregnant” Brett slapped himself in the forehead.

“Dude…how could you have forgotten? Have you seen her tummy? It’s like she swallowed Pluto just after NASA announced it’s no longer a planet”

“I fucking heard that Eddy Chen!” Belle’s voice erupted in the background, prompting Brett to move his phone away from his ear.

“I’m sorry” Brett heard Eddy whisper to his sister. “Just hang in there, we’re about 10 minutes away from the ER. Now shush”

“Anyway, bro, so yeah. I’m really sorry about this” Eddy said.

“No worries! Just be there for your sister. Also, tell Belle I said goodluck! Wait, is that the appropriate thing to say to someone who’s about to give birth?”

“I’m not really sure but I think that kinda works. Update me when you’ve landed, alright? Don’t have too much fun without me. Also, practice!” Eddy said before hanging up.

Brett gave a small chuckle as he pocketed his phone. Leave it to Eddy to still be roasting his sister while she’s already in labor. The man’s sense of humour and quick wit are truly remarkable, not to mention unparalleled. Even Brett recognises the indispensable role of Eddy’s creativity in the growth of their channel. He concedes that most of the comedic content in their videos are products of Eddy’s ingenuity. There’s never a dull moment when Eddy’s around, and that’s why Brett is slightly disappointed that he would have to fly solo in his trip to the States. Just thinking about the long hours of sitting down and getting arse cramps every hour or so is already enough to bring Brett to a state of despair. Country hopping is fun, going from one city to another is too, but the actual travel is what really takes a toll on Brett’s energy and mood. He hates every single minute of it, especially the long wait in the airport. There are always way too many people, way too much noise, and way too much walking to do. He’s a musician, for Pete’s sake. His physical activities are limited to five minute walks (usually less since he spends most of his time indoors anyway) and the occasional Lingling workouts that push him over the edge. Just getting through security was enough for him to break a sweat.

After passing through the first round of metal detectors and the x-ray machines, Brett proceeded to the check-in counter of Qantas. It was a long wait before his turn so he decided to check on the ticket sales of their tour. Only two performances in the last city in their itinerary have not sold out yet, but he’s positive that it will eventually. TwoSet’s popularity suddenly grew during the first two weeks of January which the pair did not really expect. The abrupt spike in the number of views per video, not to mention reaching 2 million subscribers much earlier than expected, made the duo ecstatic and grateful beyond words. But their growing fame was a double-edged sword for it meant more work for both of them. It didn’t help that Eddy made a promise to their fans that once the channel reached 2 million subs, Brett would drop his Tchaikovsky recording. And so he had less than a month to perfect the popular piece before he finally performed it during the livestream they did last February. More than a million of the Lingling wannabes from all over the world watched him play the same piece he performed during his debut in 2012. It was nerve wracking, but it was pretty exciting too. Performing for his fans have always brought Brett so much joy, and he will gladly do it until the time when he physically can’t anymore.

“Sir? Please” the voice of the ground stewardess urging Brett to come forward to the counter broke his stupor.

“Sorry” Brett apologised as he handed his ticket. He was loading his luggage on the counter when he heard a pleading voice at the counter next to his. He decided to get a glimpse at the commotion, noting how disheveled and desperate the woman looked and how equally impatient the ground stewardess was becoming. Brett then abruptly withdrew his stare when he and the woman accidentally caught each other’s eyes. Brett continued to load his luggage so it won’t seem too obvious that he was eavesdropping.

“I’ll take any open seat. Please” the woman begged. The fatigue in the woman’s voice was evident, and Brett could not  help wondering if she was hungover or she just came from baby-sitting seven toddlers all at once.

“I’m sorry, madame. But so far the flight is fully booked. If you want, there’s another plane coming in at noon. I can book that for you” the passenger service crew explained.

“No, no. That would be too late. But please, if ever an opening comes up, please do notify me. I’ll give you my number” the woman said as she started scribbling on the piece of paper that the lady behind the counter gave.

“Mr. Yang, here are your boarding pass and your luggage tag. By the way, you received an upgrade courtesy of the airlines. You can use the Business Class lounge while waiting for your flight” the lady smiled at him as she handed Brett everything he needed. Upgrade? Brett thought to himself. That’s weird, specially since the other lady just said the flight’s fully booked.

“That’s generous, thank you” Brett said gratefully. “Oh, by the way, my friend Eddy Chen was supposed to fly with me but he won’t be able to make it because of a family emergency” he added before leaving the counter. Brett internally cringed at what he just did. He knew for a fact that the airline could not possibly use that information. They had protocols to follow when it came to cancellations. Aside from that, it was a really random thing to do.

Well, not random. Brett thought. You just wanted to help the panda-eyed woman without being to obvious. Damn she was tired. And damn, was I really obvious though.

Brett decided to shrug off that awkward incident by texting Eddy while he walked towards the lounge. He did not get any reply right away so he figured that his best friend was probably still attending to his sister. Upon arriving at the lounge and finding a spot to sit in, Brett decided to do some work. After he finished, he went to the bar to get something to drink and eat. He was munching on his crisps when he got a text from Eddy.

Bro, update our fans. Was supposed to do it but I totally forgot. And I reckon they’re not really interested in seeing a bloody head emerge between my sister’s legs yeah?

Jfc Eddy, you could’ve spared me the mental image. But yeah, yeah. I’ll do it.

Brett opened their instagram account and started going live. He once again thanked their fans for all the support they have shown, and then proceeded to update them about why Eddy was not with him at the moment. He was doing a mini Q&A when it was announced on the PA system that his flight is going to start boarding passengers in 15 minutes. Brett bid their fans goodbye, pocketed his phone, and left the bar to go back to where he sat before. He was ten steps away from his seat when he noticed that someone else was occupying the chair near the window. It was the same woman from the other counter, the one who was desperately pleading for a ticket.

Lucky her. I guess she did get what she needed after all. Brett muttered to himself as he sat himself in the sofa facing the woman. He placed his violin on his left and his carry-on luggage on the floor before bringing his eyes back to the girl near the window. She was holding a book open in front of her, though it appeared that she wasn’t really reading it. Her hazel eyes stared blankly at the pages of Sara Borjas’ Heart Like A Window, Mouth Like A Cliff as she bit on her left thumb.

Is she nervous? Brett wondered as he continued observing her.

He brought his eyes to her hair and noticed how it was haphazardly wrapped around a bun on top of her head, and it seemed like it would unravel itself at any moment. She was pale for a person who lived in Australia (summer is just about to end after all), but her cheeks had a little bit of red in them.

Is she ill? Has she just cried? Brett pondered. He continued staring at her as if she was a specimen in a laboratory.

Brett noticed that her right leg, which was crossed over her left, would not stop fidgeting. It would slow down from time to time but the shaking did not cease. Sometimes her free hand would slide down to her lap and she would start tapping it in sync with her fidgeting leg. There were instances when she’d bring her head up from her book and her eyes would almost lock with Brett’s, but he was quick enough to avert his stare whenever she was on the verge of moving her head. It was as if they were playing a game of hide and seek, except that no one was really seeking because only one was playing and he wasn’t even playing it well. He was just there, in plain sight, in open space, staring and ogling with no particular purpose. Just staring. And wondering.

Like a creep. Aist. Brett huffed as he realised how wrong it was to be people watching. Well, not people watching in general. Just the one. More aptly put, person watching. Or stalking he thought if I’m going to be honest with myself.

Brett’s slow descent into his own thoughts was interrupted once again by the PA system. His flight number was called, and its passengers were informed that they were to board in Gate C7. Since Brett got an upgrade into business class, he had the privilege of being accommodated first. Not to mention not having to walk all the way to Gate C7 because the airline lounge had a direct jet bridge that connected to the Boeing 787-9 which would carry hundreds of passengers from Brisbane straight to New York. Brett collected his things and walked towards the airline staff who collected his boarding pass and assisted him to the plane. He was greeted by the plane crew once he entered, and was directed to his seat.

“Would you like me to put that away for you?” The stunning flight attendant gestured to his violin.

“Would it be possible for me to keep it on my side?” He asked.

“Of course, Sir. I’ll just fetch some straps to keep it in place. I’ll be right back. Make yourself comfortable” she smiled before leaving for the cabin.

Brett immediately took a selfie and posted it on instagram. He messaged Eddy about the upgrade and teased the latter of leaving the duo to become a soloist. Eddy immediately replied with a picture of him with tears in his eyes. This made Brett laugh but also feel a twinge of melancholy at the same time because bantering with his best mate was way better in person than doing it digitally. Moreover, Brett started engaging in creepy recreational activities because of Eddy’s absence, and it was so out of character for him that he gave an internal scream.

Thank god that’s over Brett told himself as he inhaled deeply and settled himself in the plush window seat. He sent last minute text messages to his friends and family before he turned off his phone.

“Excuse me sir, here are the straps for your violin” the flight attendant from earlier returned with a pair of 13 inch black straps which she handed to Brett. He gave a slight nod and mouthed a thank you while receiving the straps. He then  proceeded to secure his violin to the side. Brett was about to close his eyes when the woman from the lounge entered and stopped at the chair beside him. She whispered something to the flight attendant who was assisting her before she took her seat.

Not again. Brett muttered to himself as he once again stared intently at the woman. He couldn’t take his eyes off her and he did not know why. She wasn’t exactly a head turner, but she had this aura about her that piqued Brett’s curiosity.

Curiosity. That’s it, I’m curious. That’s exactly the reason why I can’t look away. Brett thought.

There’s a story, surely there’s a story behind those tired hazel eyes. There must be because no one looked like that, like she carried the weight of the entire world on her shoulders, but at the same time radiate (but only minutely) a different, more positive energy.

Independence?

Brett guessed.

Gratitude?

Fulfilment?

Success?

It’s like he was playing charades with Eddy again, only this time the other person was a complete stranger and he can’t communicate, much more confirm, his guesses. He looked at her more intensely as he searched for more clues about the type of person that she was. First, he looked at her hands to check if she might have callouses similar to his. She had some, but it was on the wrong places. She was not a musician. Maybe she was a writer, or an architect. Brett was not able to come up with a proper conclusion as to her profession, but he decided that whatever she did had something to do with using her hands.

Second, he considered what she was wearing. She was just wearing tight jeans, black boots, and a plain knitted white sweater. She had no accessories nor any other apparel that would help her battle the weather once they land in New York.

Unless she has one in her carry-on. But I highly doubt that. Brett thought. He did not see her with any luggage at the check-in counter, nor in the lounge. She only had a big tote bag with her which she also declined to be placed in the overhead compartment. Brett inferred that this trip was a product of spontaneity, or panic. It really could go either way. But what was obvious was she did not plan this through.

Brett slowly lifted his sights up to study her face once more. But what happened next caused him to feel a rush of blood to his cheeks. She was staring at him. She saw him staring at him. And now their eyes were locked at each other and Brett did not know what to do.

Fuck.

[whyamistillwatchingtheseshows]

TayNew, Someone You Loved! MAKE ME SUFFER!!!

Tay understood growing apart. As an adult, that’s the shit you have to learn. It’s the mind-numbing pain that no one warned him about. That ache when someone who had always been there is gone, no not just that. They’ve disappeared. Tay had once said, “Time will tell.” Here’s time and what it did: That closeness changed, it became awkward. Tay didn’t like to use the fans as his source, but hell, they were an observant bunch. He and Newwie used to FaceTime for hours before. Now, it’s a text that says hey. It’s stupid small talk. Six years and a friendship could be barely salvaged. They’ve been through that dance. The will they, won’t they? Tay looked at his phone. No messages. Tay was busy doing promotion shoots for his show 3 Will Be Free, but usually, Newwie was blowing up his phone. Nothing. 

His co-star Joss appeared beside him. “What’s up?” He noticed anguish on his friend’s face.

“Nothing,” Tay took a deep breath. “Want to practice?” 

“Practice what? I’m sure we all have modeling in the bag,” Joss laughed. Tay had completely forgotten what he was doing and where he was. That’s how far his mind drifts, back to the what ifs, to a time where nothing had to be defined and they just were. Joss noticed Tay clenching his fists. “Whoa,” he placed a hand to a shoulder. “You calm buddy?” 

Tay gave him a death glare and Joss held up his hands in defense. “Okay, okay. I’ll back off.” Joss left him there. Tay felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He excitedly looked at it. Why had he expected it to be Newwie? That guy was probably with this supposed girlfriend, with someone other than him. What’s that drowning feeling? It’s as if you’re breathing but drowning at the same time. His phone vibrated again and this time it was Newwie. 

He opened the text: Are you busy? 

Doing a photo shoot. What’s up? Keep it simple. It’s not a declaration of love. It’s not, hey, I love you. Come back to me. Tay Tawan you’re fucking 28, why are you acting like a 16-year-old? 

I was wondering if you could help me. Shit. With what? 

Sure, what is it? 

Can you come shopping me with? Oh, this is good. This is closer to the way before. 

Yeah, when? 

Sunday. I need to buy a gift for my girlfriend.

Tay almost threw his phone across the room. He hit himself on the head with it instead. 

Um, Sunday? Sorry, I’m busy that day. We’re lying. Okay, but it hurts to be near him. It hurts to be away from him, what a fucking double-edged sword. 

__

Tay appeared before New. He was surprised since he was told by his friend that he’d be busy. 

“You came anyway? Change your plans?” New asked him. 

“Yeah, I figured you either really couldn’t choose or you needed my money. Hmm,” Tay managed to joke with him. 

“I thought I was the bank to you,” New raised an eyebrow at him. 

“Eh, uh, yeah, whatever. What are you getting?” 

“Oh, she likes knick knacks. Something to put on a shelf and display. Since she likes dolphins I was thinking of something with that.”

Tay suddenly realized this was a bad idea. It was going to be endless drivel about her. It’s not that he was jealous. No, okay, maybe it’s a part of it, but Tay felt like he’d been tricked. The wool over his eyes. That’s what he gets for letting his guard down. Sure, it was unintentional and New has no clue how he truly feels...yeah, this was a bad idea. 

“Where shall we start?” Tay’s heart nearly jumped out of his chest when Newwie hooked his arm. 

“I have to go.”

“Why?” Newwie whined. “We don't hang out like this anymore. Come on,” he shook against Tay’s side. “Aren’t I still your P?” 

“You’re someone I love and I can’t help you buy gifts for someone else.” The confession spilled out of his mouth before he could stop it.

“In a mall?” New shook his head. “All right, we’ll have this talk.” 

“I want us back to the way before. Even if it was fan service, I liked how we were during the filming of our food show.”

“Not all of it was fan service.” The confession was out of New’s mouth before he could stop it.

“Don't give me hope, if there is none, New.” Tay was using his serious voice now. New chuckled. “I’m leaving,” Tay suddenly said. New didn’t know how to stop him.

__

New’s girlfriend laid against his shoulder. That made it difficult to stalk Tay on Instagram. He scoffed to himself. Wow, what a terrible boyfriend. Thinking about someone else while the other is right there. Great, good on you, New. His phone buzzed. A text from Tay. 

Can we talk? 

I’ll come over. 

New ran out of the building and to his car before his girlfriend made any objections. You really are a terrible boyfriend to her anyway.

__

“Tell me you remember Valentine’s Day?” New wasn’t expecting to be prodded with such a loaded question right from the beginning. 

“How could I forget?”

“So none of those feelings are there any more? Because this someone else crap came out of nowhere. I was getting used to us. I was getting used to the way we argued but loved each other. I was getting used to the way you got frustrated when I didn’t clean up my mess. By the way, it’s an organized mess. It just gets that way and then I-”

“Then you get pissed off and clean it up. I know,” New smiled. “You are the King of Procrastination.”

“Am I? I feel like a hardworker.”

“Who will do a lot of things last minute. Generally, everything still turns out all right.”

“Let’s go back to before. To the days where I don't feel helpless, lost and aching. Come back to me, Newwie.” 

This would be the hardest thing that New has ever done. He couldn’t believe he was doing it when it happened, but he just left. Tay stood there staring at the door. Then he banged his fists against it, choking back tears. He slumped to the floor, his head hitting the door a little too hard. He grimaced, but that pain was nothing. That was minimal compared to that feeling of going under, the numbness. The ache. Tay didn’t know, but in the hallway New had slumped to the floor against the door as well. He couldn’t face that conversation while also being with someone else. If Tay went any further, New would make a mistake. A mistake, a tempting mistake... New’s mind drifted to Valentine’s Day. Tay’s lips against his, and it was only the two of them in the world. Nothing else mattered. Where’d that go? When did he want someone else? Why did he want someone else? When did he become so afraid of his feelings for Tay? 

Tay also now understood that ache. It was the ache of wanting someone to save you. Wanting someone to hold. Wanting someone to be the cure for the pain. Tay never thought it wise to rely on someone that much, but he gave his all to Newwie. There was a time when Tay was never that outspoken or that animated. He learned to open up because of Newwie, even though, it didn’t seem as if they learned anything from each other. They’d earned the reputation of being the “Queens of Banter.” They didn’t care about the title. They owned up to it because if anyone knows Chess, the Queen is the most powerful player. Tay chuckled at his own thought. Then he heard scuffling outside the door. He jumped up and opened it. 

New fell back onto the floor. He looked up at Tay. A hand was offered to help him. New took it. Hands still being held they stood there staring at each other. Tay was going to lean in for it. He was going for it. All or nothing. New denied him by turning his face. 

“Patience,” New told him. “There’s a girlfriend I have to speak to first.” 

“Don't fuck with me because I won’t be able to handle that.” 

“I’m not fucking with you. Just give it time.” Tay didn’t like to give things time. After all, time eventually bit him in the ass. He held onto his anger a moment then let out in a deep breath. The anger shouldn’t be directed at Newwie. It really wasn’t his fault. 

“One kiss?” Tay begged before New could actually leave.

“No.”

Tay huffed. “Fine. I’ll just wallow then until you sort it out. Tonight?”

“My oh my someone needs to calm down. No, it won’t be tonight. But soon.” New wrapped his arms around Tay’s neck for a hug. Tay melted into it and New had to fight his way out of his grasp. 

Soon. One word changed everything.

[fandomcathouse]

SSDD - Ch1 All Hands on Deck

AO3 - Written by Me & @lynxtigerwritings

Tags = AU Canon-Divergent / Canon-Typical Violence & Behavior

Pairings = Vergil-OFC / Dante-OFC / Nero-Kyrie

Note - READ LOVE’S SACRIFICE IT’S V PROLOGUE - Pairing V/OFC

If there was one thing Vergil was thankful for, it was that even when he was severely poisoned he could not only feel the presence of the Yamato but also his son. He was also thankful they were in the same place, making it so much easier to focus. Wrapped up in his cloak, shivering even when he was dripping sweat from excursion and fever, he picked his head up when he heard the voice of a sweet girl.

“Hey you two! Dinner’s ready!”

Vergil’s brows pinched together. Was that Kyrie? It echoed from the garage up ahead, the door halfway open. He’d be able to duck under it. That was where the source of the energies was, too.

He wasn’t one to swear, not like Dante or even Nero, but fuck his whole body was shooting white-hot pain all over every step he took...Goddamn Stolas’ for sicking his poisonous plants on him, going after him from behind...All because of Abaddon...

“You, uh...you need somethin’?”

When had he gotten across the road?

“What...hungry? Heh...in luck...food’s ready and Kyrie...too much.” As his vision doubled, most of the sentence was distorted. The sound of clanking reached his ears. That was definitely his son’s voice, and that had been Kyrie after all. Nero had said her name so sweetly...had their relationship developed further? How long...had he been away?

Vergil slipped under the garage door and slowly stepped closer, breathing heavy. His mind was wavering...Focus! He needed to tell Nero he needed help.

“Hope...loud talkers...a pair of those...” Nero had stood up and paused whatever he was saying, but now he was closer Vergil heard him more clearly, “...see somethin’ ya like?”

A blue glow alerted Vergil, feeling the energy of the Yamato spike. When had his son’s arm become demonic?

“You a demon?” Nero growled, obviously on edge now.

That wasn’t what he wanted and he lifted his hand, skin showing grey and veins black in the light. Suddenly desperate he worked his throat and rocked on his heels as he lost his balance, “Nero…”

“Nero! The food’s getting cold! What’s-” Kyrie was immediately cut off.

“Call Dante!” Nero shouted as he swung himself forward. The voice sounded...but it couldn’t. When the robe fell from his face, Nero’s eyes widened and then narrowed. His father looked as though he had aged terribly. The black veins were sucking the very life out of him, and it looked like it was slow acting. Nero knew not a thing about poisons. He only knew how to point and shoot. Kyrie might have something in the home to help slow it down further, but an actual antidote would have to come from Dante, if the demon hunter even knew what the poison was. If this could be cured. “Hey. Father.” His skin was flecking at his very touch, as though he were crumbling to dust.

He slowly pulled the robe back on, trying not to let it rub too much on his father’s skin and hoisted him up. “We’re going to get you upstairs.” He told him seriously. “Kyrie’s calling Dante, I’m sure and we’ll get you better.” As better as they possibly could. “Alright? You gotta stay with me ol’ man. That’s your job right now. You got that? Stay with me.”

His voice needed to work goddamn it but all he got for a second was a chest-rattling grunt to show he was listening. Any other circumstance he would consider this humiliating, and every jostle, as accidental as it was, hurt like a bitch. When he was finally set down on a bed - at least it wasn’t a couch - he reached and grabbed Nero’s arm, choking out, “Yamato...the...power will...” he hissed as his whole body shuddered in a shiver yet a bead of sweat went down his temple, “Slow..it...down...” he finished, feeling incredibly weak and he hated it.

Slow it down? Nero looked at his arm where the Yamato was sealed away. Dante was going to fry him. The Yamato would practically call out every demon from their hiding spots, but what choice did he have? He reached into his palm and pulled the sword out, covered in blood and his arm falling limp from use, Nero had gritted his teeth so finely it was amazing he hadn’t screamed from his own pain. “What do I do?”

Instead of wasting breath, Vergil took it from him and promptly pressed it to his chest where it pulsed with energy. It felt good to have his sword back in his hands, and it when he was able to finally suck air through his teeth and into his lungs instead of fighting for every breath, he relaxed into the bed. Eyes fluttering back open, they were a lot clearer now. Everything still hurt, the poison was still creeping, but he didn’t look or feel like he was going to die in the next heartbeat. “In answer to...your question,” he swallowed hard, throat dry, “Check with...Kyrie. The poison is...from Stolas’ plants. Another demon.” Not being able to articulate his words properly irked him to Hell and back. At least he got his point across.

Nero got up onto his feet. “I got it.” He told him as he walked out of the room. The girls were around the kitchen table looking grim.

“What was that about?” Nico asked clicking her tongue and folding her arms.

“Poison from Stolas.” Nero looked over at Kyrie who was holding the phone. “If that’s still Dante tell him that. I bet he had a few ideas.”

“Do you know who Stolas is?” Kyrie asked the seasoned hunter on the other end, her hand pressed over her heart in worry, “Nero learned that’s where the poison’s from.” Noticing he was holding his arm and it wasn’t as bright, she tilted her head, silently asking if he was alright.

Nero nodded and gave Kyrie a trade-mark smile but he listened for Dante’s reply.

“Looks like I gotta call Lysander. Now to hope that one of them picks up the phone. I’ll be there shortly afterward. Not sure if it’ll help, but holy water might ease it a twinge. He’ll be in a hell of a lot of pain but it’s better that than to bite his tongue and die.” Dante sighed on the other end before hanging up.

“Holy water until help arrives. Do we have any?” she looked at Nico who tended to keep stock of their supplies, then to Nero, “Somebody named Lysander’s going to hopefully be here.”

Nico shrugged, “I might have some but you might wanna make another batch Kyrie just in case. I’ll go down to my van. Be back in a snitch.”

X

“Yo! Sis!” the younger Lysander sister shouted to the void that was her apartment with Charlotte, “The world must be ending, Dante’s called! Asking about plants. That’s your shtick.”

Charlotte blinked from reading. Quietly the older sister closed her book and dig into the mess of papers where her own cellphone was. Three missed calls. All from Dante. Oops. “What about plants?!”

Yvette came from the hallway, phone to her chest so she could talk without getting mixed signals, “Some douchebag demon named Stolas?”

“Ugh. Where?” Charlotte asked as she got up from her desk and went over to her closet. Better drag out the big guns. She reached up and pulled a large oak case that jiggled and clinked ominously. “We’re gonna have to go fast meaning you drive Vet.”

Pale green eyes lit up and she put the phone back to her ear, “Text me the address, would you? On our way now.” If she had the address then that’d make it easier for Charlotte to input it into her GPS and give her directions. Honestly, she was giddy with the thought of getting out of the house and driving. Sure it was dire circumstances, but meeting new people was always fun, and if it was Dante asking for help then part of her knew they were a few steps shy of having a hunt.

“Sure thing,” Dante said, “Tell your sister she’s shit at having a phone.” It was a nice little jab. “See you.”

Not even five seconds went by before Yvette’s phone dinged with a text for the address. Charlotte hauled the big case up and over her shoulder. The rattling increased tenfold. “Following you out the door kiddo.”

X

Honestly, falling asleep was a horrible idea. Vergil was lucky as hell to even open his eyes again. All he remembered last was little concerned Kyrie -my how she’d grown- soothing him while Nero not only made him drink a shot of holy water but apply it to some of the wounds from his skin flaking.

What brought him to consciousness he wasn’t quite sure. All of a sudden he felt Dante’s energy, and drawing near was the presence of what he could only guess was a witch. A rattling noise echoed in the hallway before the door was eased open. Reflexively he gripped his sword, but the sight before him threw his guard off. Straight strands of brown hair spilled over the woman’s shoulders, and as she turned on the light to see what she was doing he was sucked into deep green eyes that reminded him of staring into a forest.

Heaven and Hell combined, he must be really off his game, poison be damned.

Charlotte didn’t miss how he reached for his sword. A part of her wanted to be cheeky about how that sword wouldn’t do much against her and he was delusional, but she kept her mouth closed. This poor man was going through hell. She placed the big case on the ground and kicked it open. It unfolded itself to show so many different kinds of vials in many different colors.

She carefully sat on the edge of the bed and slowly telegraphing her moves to pick up his arm and looked at the black veins. “Holy water?” She mused. “Fast thinking.” She looked up at the man who was on the bed.

“Can he be saved?” Dante asked, folding his arms against his chest.

“He can be,” Charlotte said soothingly and turned to Vergil. “Stolas did this? It’s a new kind of poison. Taking demonic energy and transforming it into literal poison.” She turned away and started to sift through the vials. She hummed a tune softly under her breath.

Such a lovely sound...Vergil closed his eyes briefly before he shifted, “Dante, Stolas got me...in the back. Starting at...the source...might help.” Which of course meant he had to take off his cloak, jacket, vest, and possibly his shirt. “Normally wounds...heal closed. This one...did not.” Which of course meant it had been festering.

Dante walked around the bed and helped Vergil turn around once they got him out off the complicated outfit. The odor was terrible and Charlotte clicked her teeth.

“What the fuck, dad.” Nero hissed when he saw the damage that was on his father’s back. He hadn’t wanted to leave his side, but holy…

“Stolas didn’t really know the safe word here.” Dante grimaced.

“Lets…” Charlotte started to pull her hair back into a makeshift bun. “Yvette I need gauze and warm wet towels.” She lowered herself so Vergil could hear her. “How steady is your grip? I can give it to you orally and you take it yourself or I find a different method.”

“Either holding the yamato...in a death grip...or not at all,” Vergil admitted with a sigh, feeling even colder than before but at least the cool air on the back of his neck where he was drenched in sweat was relieving. He heard the creaking of the door as this ‘Yvette’ left the room to get what was asked of her. “What other methods?”

“One method is that I administer it through a kiss, another is that I open that wound of yours and try to see if I can’t get it to take through the bloodstream. I can even have you sit up and I pour it down your throat if you’d prefer.” Charlotte listed.

“Won’t even consider taking you out to dinner Verg.” Dante teased, though the worried edge on his voice betrayed his feelings.

Nero rolled his eyes. He’s been there. He’s done that. “I’m going to help Yvette find the towels. It’s crowded in here.” He knew his father didn’t want to display too many weaknesses to too many people. At least the Lysander woman was trying her best.

“I was thinking...the same thing,” Vergil nodded to Nero in appreciation and he released a long breath when his son was out of the room, leaving the three of them. Even the Yamato pulsed a little bit when he thought about her kissing him and he shook his head in spite of the ache, “Sit up...pour it.” Lifting his hand to his brother he grit his teeth when Dante grasped his wrist and hauled him up, his body lurching to the side only to be caught by the woman. Her touch set him on edge, but not out of distaste. “My shirt. I’ll bite it.” Whatever it was she gave him to cure the poison was going to make him scream.

“I can knock yo-Okay then.” Dante had to admit it was nice that Charlotte didn’t even try to persuade Vergil to do the other thing. She uncapped the vial. “Brave man.” She set the cap to the side and she scooted a little closer to Vergil. She knew this was going to hurt. He was going to drink it, it was going to taste vile, he was going to hate it and when it was also poured on his wounds with the towel and gauze he was either going to pass out or scream loudly enough to wake up the neighborhood. That shirt of his was going to get torn, undoubtedly. She swirled the vial three times in either direction and looked at Vergil squarely. Like two warriors on opposite sides of a battle. “You can swear at me, I know I’m the bitch in this scenario.” Without further ado, she helped him drink it.

Vergil expected the taste and covered his mouth as he tried not to cough and spit it out, squeezing his eyes shut and swallowing down the bile and the liquid. In the nothing that followed he grabbed his shirt, twisted it and when the first pangs of something made him double over he shoved the cloth in his mouth in time to feel burning.

Yvette returned with the items Char asked for in time to see Vergil slam his body back onto the bed which creaked ominously at the abuse. Screaming into the wad of his shirt while his hands gripped the edges. Yup. That shirt would be pieces by the end of this. “Lotty,” she whispered to get her sister’s attention, holding up the wraps and towels, “Anything else you need help with? Holding him down when you wrap him?”

Charlotte looked at Vergil who was panting, Dante was gripping his brother tightly and they both looked at each other before Charlotte shook her head. “No.” She said after a moment. “I think once we get this done, we can take watch. Make sure it doesn’t get worse or continue to spread.”

“Sounds like a plan, how long does it take?” Dante asked, carefully loosening his grip on his brother so that he could reposition himself. Charlotte carefully took the things from Yvette.

“Twenty four hours, if not a little less since he’s half-demon.” Charlotte determined. “The wound on the back is what I’m worried about most. It’s been infected and reinfected. Actually, Yvette, shove my case a little closer to the bed.”

Huffing mostly at the weight of it, Yvette did as she was told and cocked her head when Vergil screamed again, back arching and if it wasn’t for Dante she’d fear he’d snap his back in two, “I’ll get you another cloth for his forehead, a basin while I’m at it. He’s drenched.”

“You sound like a peach,” Charlotte said as she shifted through the vials a little quicker this time before picking one up. She unrolled the gauze and started to drip some onto cloth and leaned in uncomfortably close to get the wrapping around. “At least,” Charlotte said dryly, “I’m wearing a bra for this.”

Dante appreciated the humor. She was as much in an uncomfortable position as his brother and he was grateful that Charlotte knew how to work swiftly as she did carefully. His brother still writhed in pain and agony, but he still kept a firm grip so he wouldn’t ruin more of her handiwork. “This is going to take all night.” He sighed.

“I’d much rather he scream and punch than to go still and iced,” Charlotte said bluntly. “Yvette can hold him down as well as you can, but I’m pretty sure I’m pushing limits as I am.”

“You know his pride.” Dante huffed a laugh. “I didn’t realize that was infamous.”

“I have my own honor code I abide by. It drives Vet up the wall. Ask her. One time she legit threatened to shoot me over it I kid you not.”

“Oooh boy, you’re his type.” The younger twin snorted, but then had to double his grip again at another wave. “I’m a little worried about putting him on his back or even back on his stomach.” He admitted. “I don’t feel like he can handle that.”

Charlotte didn’t blame him for that line of thinking. But Dante couldn’t hold him all night long and while Yvette did offer to help, Charlotte wasn’t sure if it’d make things better or not. “We have to. We’re better off keeping him from rolling off the bed than we are to restrain him. That’s wasted energy and effort.”

“Logical and precise.” Dante let out a breath. “Okay then.”

They helped each other to get Vergil to lay down, but the moment that they got him back onto his stomach, it was a hell storm. It was agony for touch, for the skin to be pulled and soon enough that antidote would stop burning and it would be numbed, hopefully drugged. Hopefully. His back needed to heal, and him writhing around wasn’t helping. She didn’t doubt that after the first hour, she’d have to change them again.

“I’ll tell Nero we’re taking watch shifts and let Vet know that too. If you’re hungry, I’m sure Kyrie can heat up whatever dinner they were having.” Dante offered as he slowly got himself untangled from Vergil’s grip and body. “She feeds an army and then some, it’s no hassle.”

Charlotte sighed, “Sure. I can’t work on an empty stomach and if there’s room to share, I’ll take it.”

“Awesome. Keep an eye out, you get first watch,” Dante patted Charlotte’s shoulder before heading down the stairs to let the group know what was going on.

“Should’ve let ‘im punch me,” was the barely audible whisper when he was well out of earshot, voice too hoarse and literally cotton-mouthed after his tattered shirt was gone.

Charlotte looked down at Vergil. “At this point in time, I don’t think you’d even know what a punch feels like.”

All he did was hum and Yvette came back in with the cloth and basin she promised a while ago, “Dante told us. I’ll bring your food up when it’s ready, yeah?”

“Sure.” Charlotte looked over at Yvette, “By the dresser thanks.” She let out a low sigh as she started to make herself comfortable on the side of the bed. “I’m good here.” She assured her sister.

“Hmm, I’m sure you are,” Yvette gave her a sly wolfish smile and easily danced away when a pillow was thrown at her, ‘kekeke’ing and tossed it back before leaving her alone with Vergil until she brought food.

“Should’ve shot her, but I don’t know if that’s worth a bullet or my sanity,” Charlotte muttered darkly as she pushed the pillow against her stomach, glaring heatedly at the door. She waited for a moment, in case her sister decided to come back. When it was clear, she set the pillow to the side and went to the basin. The water was lukewarm, which was nice. She dipped the cloth in, and wringing it out before going back to Vergil and gently swiping it across the back of his neck and his forehead, humming soft.

Sleep had nearly claimed him before he felt her gentle touches and picked up on her sweet humming. It was the same tune from before and something he didn’t cater to often, curiosity, nagged at him. Perhaps later he could ask. Instead of releasing another little hum to answer hers, Vergil heard a different noise. With his body so numb, it took a second to realize it was coming from deep, deep in his chest. Not quite human, either. If he had any strength left to care, he would be embarrassed as hell his demon was purring and trilling.

Charlotte heard it. She heard it and it made her pleased. She didn’t know much about hybrids, let alone half-demons. Yet she knew that the demons had their own little purrs and noises that they made. Animalistic as they were, they were sometimes more human than humans. To know that hybrids and half-demons could do the same thing as a regular demon, well...that was going to be her secret to keep. She hummed in tune with the purring and trilling as she wiped away the sweat, and cooled his body down. She didn’t stop humming when she put the cloth back into the basin and went back to settle on the side of the bed. She certainly didn’t stop humming until he was nice and knocked out.

[kinetic-elaboration]

May 14: Retreat

I’ve been thinking about what a weekend devoted to writing would look like. So far my weekend devoted to cleaning (a considerably easier task) is only going so-so. Forcing myself to sit and write, or work on writing projects, will be much harder, and I’m feeling pretty pessimistic about it. Also, I wanted to take a five day weekend to do it, but I’m running out of time when that would be feasible. Next week... sure does exist, but I took a day off yesterday, the week after that is Memorial Day weekend, and after that we get into June, and I’m planning to take a solid week off sometime that month.

At this point I am thinking of splitting the difference with Memorial Day weekend. It’s already 3 days, if the plan goes badly, at least I didn’t waste any vacation time, and if it goes well, I can still get a lot done. (Big if.)

The problem is, of course, that I am scared, and also out of practice, and that I will always avoid doing anything I even sort of don’t want to do, no matter how much I know it will be good for me etc. I can’t rationalize myself out of this terrible habit. I just need to magically have self-control.

I’ve been thinking of a few potential tricks or things that might be helpful, for example I would obviously have to get up/get started at some kinda decent hour. I might work through breakfast, since eating breakfast always makes me want to do nothing immediately after, and I’m considering maybe... setting soft deadlines. The thing is that deadlines can be double edged swords, and part of the point of a writing-devoted weekend is that time is infinite, and I don’t need to rush in any way. But I do want to go out for walks and of course I need to do stuff like eat and shower, so--perhaps something like that.

In terms of goals... I feel I do need to articulate them better.

First, I’ll be working on the SGAU. That’s really the most important thing.

Second, I do have that outline/summary document I made the last time I bothered to think about this fic at all, and my first specific priority is filling it out. I think it will be really helpful. I also think it’s my best entry to actually organizing my thoughts here, especially after so long a hiatus.

Third, I need to make sure I’ve typed up all my remaining notebook notes. I think I’ve gotten 90% of them but I really need a complete set to organize stuff properly.

Fourth, I want to do a total re-read of what I have, and maybe some edits or at least marking places that will need edits.

Fifth, it would be awesome if I could actually do some more writing, add to the draft text itself. Nothing else matters if it doesn’t lead to words-on-page. I’m most worried about actually writing, so while I think that it would be jumping into the deep end to try even throw away stuff, but I’d like to feel like I’m working up to it.

Sixth, I think I should try to do some free writes or other (comparatively) low-stress scenes, just to practice actually writing and to prove to myself I can. Nothing that will really distract from the SGAU, but just little things here and there.

Overall... I’m just nervous. I’m nervous about wrangling myself. Because that’s the thing--I am the enemy here! My own brain is the thing at war with itself, wanting one thing but doing another. Desiring something and then sabotaging it at every turn. Making everything harder than it has to be, constantly.

You wouldn't know it but I actually do love this fic, I do want to continue the universe of it, I do want to see it to completion. I do think I’m a good writer. I do think I can do it, though I have no idea how to get from here to the place where such creation is possible.

[slip-a-dip]

Why I get defensive

When people are like “All men..”

So, Something I’ve noticed is this whole like, Gender role debate is spreading to two a double edged sword, It’s slicing both sides, cutting all of those who wield it. Like, If you talk shit about ones gender, then expect people who identify as that gender to defend themselves.

I see post all the time about how people shit on “All men”, Usually pictured with Text about how a man wrongly mistreated them, or a screenshot of messages where the man is really sexually explicit or also Misogynistic. It’s disgusting and I agree that you should be appalled and express what you’ve experienced because that’s not right..But please, Please stop saying ALL MEN. Or another big one

“Ugh, Men.”

Like, It’s starting to get to the point where I’m ashamed of my gender identity because we’re just so fucking terrible. Like, I just want to be Male who loves everyone and is proud of himself, Please stop blaming the Gender, stop blaming all men.

Thank you

[cvenir]

here i am to introduce EIGHT characters that i actually thought i had already introduced lmao set me on fire !! but yay, take a look under the cut! ofc eventually proper bios will hit my pages and their tasks will expand much more on my children! as always, pinterests and songs are linked if u wanna go a lil deeper

just kidding i drafted that when i was aCTUALLY gonna do 8 but thankfully tea says she won’t accept me until i post 2 intros so yOU SHALL RECEIVE 2 RN and 8 later <33333 gotta keep y’all on your toes heh also i wrote niall’s in my journal on the plane so like... it’s not great (literally just bullets of sentence fragments) but wtvr that’s what bios are for amirite

NIALL O'DONOGHUE looks an awful lot like TARON EGERTON. HE is TWENTY-EIGHT and while they're ASTUTE, they have a tendency to get pretty ARDUOUS. You’ve probably seen them around Kola listening to DON'T WANNA FALL IN LOVE by KYLE (ok his pinterest is incredibly unfinished look away)

v conflicting mix of soft and hard

king of suppressing his lowkey intense feelings

kinda awkward around others due to the fact that he spent his entire life reading, writing, and studying –– he rarely interacted with other people as a kid and this mostly continued into his adult life

sweet soft boi has a double masters in medieval and renaissance studies and french and romance philology; he’s working on his phd rn while interviewing to become an assistant professor at kola university

grew up w a single mom (never knew dad) and had no siblings so his childhood was even lonelier :////

so like mad libs = his bff :’(

well mad libs and the shoulder flashlight he invented for late night reading (shoutout to amy santiago)

v soft and passionate heart

loves intellectual discussions like my boi has v strong gemini/virgo/mercury influences –– and a libra (or taurus i haven’t decided yet) venus so waTCH OUT

takes friendship v seriously (love u grant <333 @mcnuggcts )

buttt he can be a giant asshole sorry i don’t make the rules

v organized and particular

and scared of getting close to people bc he’s so used to being alone ugh my son!!

but once you get in there you’ll see he’s a good guy like rlly is he just has a bad temper sometimes and can barely express any emotion but anger half the time :///

ISLA VARGA looks an awful lot like ALEXIS REN. SHE is TWENTY-TWO and while they're SAGACIOUS, they have a tendency to get pretty MACABRE. You’ve probably seen them around Kola listening to COOL GIRL by TOVE LO. 

so i’ve played isla before n i’m v sorry to do this but i feel hella lazy so i’m sORRY but here comes a fucking huge wall of text don’t look at me and don’t feel like u have to read it ://// all the triggers i tagged apply to her; she’s p dark so seriously do not read it if you think she will make you uncomfortable!!

to preface, isla is like the embodiment of all of the seven deadly sins, and i molded her a lot after amy dunne (scary, i know) and april ludgate (mostly amy tho april is just deadpan like she is –– when she’s being herself, that is), as she is an incredible pococurante yet perfectionist who borders on sociopathy

soooo this will make sense later but her real name is actually brigid (father’s surname idk) which she now uses as her middle name

so isla’s dad is a fucking rockstar !!! badass right. she’s half-siblings with hadley ( @ofadorations ) and colby ( @shtbgs ) but she actually never met her mom, something she’s not too pressed about

bc she was cute as a button, family friends decided to get her into the entertainment business as a child star almost as soon as she could walk –– she did it all, acted, modeled, danced, sang, she was literally hollywood’s little starlet and she hated every minute of it. the entertainment business loved who they created, but that girl was never her and it weighed deeply on her psyche.

when she was twelve, she decided to fake her own disappearance because she was fed up with everything –– she cut her hair to her ears, dyed it brown (and has continued to do so ever since) and sneaked her way to nyc hoping no one would recognize her

well someone did, and they happened to be a member of ruthless and organized mobs of the city –– in return for keeping her concealed, she pledged her devotion and became one of their most skilled and lethal honeytraps in the business (WHICH IS ABSOLUTELY TERRIBLE BC THEY MADE HER START YOUNG I AM SO SORRY FOR WRITING THIS IT JUST PLAYS HEAVILY INTO HER CHARACTER)

along the way, members inevitably died –– people she was sworn to care for –– many times before her eyes as well, which only lead her to realize she enjoyed witnessing all sorts of death, even those of people she was supposed to “love”. emotion was almost nonexistent in isla’s childhood, a trait that bled into her character development.

she began to idolize the gang and its power, something she now craved. still, isla was doing a great job of portraying herself to those around her as a rosy, meek, baby-doll, when in actuality she was a child full of hate who would soon blossom into a young adult of the same tone. she became even more obsessed with death, fantasizing about it as if her unusual thoughts would make her less afraid when it came for her. 

eventually, as she grew older, she was accepted into the higher ranks of the mob; this couldn’t have made isla more content. the macabre girl was honored that someone else noticed her genius, the way she could predict things, assess situations, manipulate people to do her bidding. it was only right that she was initiated into a society that praised her for such harshness

but, as all things do, her time in the gang ended after ten years and isla did what she does best: disappeared. she’s relocated back close to home, kola california, and it’s only a matter of time before people and the industry realize just who she is

if she’s acting like her true self, she behaves like a negative, eldritch layabout who likes to watch others suffer (sounds extreme, i know). however, she rarely lets anyone see the real her, and instead accepts various facades in a big game –– the darkness is truly her personality, she’s not faking her cold demeanor. this image enables her to mask her true potential and the fact that she is unflaggingly loyal and cares about those she’s close to.

if i had to give her a label, it would probably be the pococurante (which is defined as: an indifferent person. possibly they’re bored, jaded or even been hurt. either way, they tend not to get attached to things and don’t show much enthusiasm, whether that’s on the outside or the inside, too)

on the other hand, she could be accurately summed up as an arcane, as she’s an enigmatic mystery and she prides herself on being a puzzle that several people have failed to solve. there are many sides to her personality; in some aspects, she’s very much an aesthete considering she spends a great deal of her time taking putting together outfits, so she has a very defined fashion sense and typically dresses like a princess half the time, which is very ironic considering her dark personality. she truly is so GLAMOROUS (and this is why i love alexis for her) and she works that mean girl, hard soul aesthetic while serving looks and also able to come across as incredibly sweet, which is perfect for her multiple personas. she’s a stunner, with both her appearance and personality; as much as she is indifferent and would prefer to fly under the radar, wherever she goes people always want to ask questions, making her into this intangible concept that everyone wants to define.

people will recognize parts of her as if they’ve seen here in another life, and because of her ostentatious, puzzling, and spellbinding personality, she’s unforgettable. on the other hand, she’s also something of a virago, due to the fact that she can be incredibly feisty when angered; but it takes quite a lot to actually set off her fuse, as she’s good at controlling which emotions she shares. for the most part, she is incredibly blasé and even-tempered. additionally, she’s is a bit of a picaro because her primary aim with her life at this point is to be independent and liberated from any and all attachments to other people. mostly, though, she’s is nothing more than a girl who’s afraid; of what, she still can’t decide.

all in all, she’s so much of everything that she isn’t quite certain of her own identity. her character is one shrouded in secrets and shadows yet alluring and sensual. but, lbr, most of all she’s just deadass terrifying. one of her defining characteristics is her desire to make things happen for her through her own abilities and determination. obstinate as all get out, she doesn’t like to own up to making mistakes so she tries to prove that she’s almost invincible to them bc she doesn’t wanna let anyone see her vulnerable, or she doesn’t want to let someone down - this refers only to those that she’s actually close to. due to her apathetic nature, all she really wants to do is let most people down – people she finds boring and useless – and have some fun because of it. however, when it comes to people she truly has allowed herself to care about, her deepest desire is for their happiness because they must be pretty damn special for making her give a shit.

still, because of her evasive tendencies, she almost always does ruin things for herself and for others, even when she actually cares. she’s like a double-edged sword; when she finds something worthwhile, she sees so much beauty and potential in it, but she’s got a midas touch. whenever she wants to obtain it or pursue it, her involvement makes everything fall to ashes, and she is afraid of her own influence. despite her tendency to run away, once she latches on and decides to be truly loyal, she’ll be devoted in such an extent that she would undoubtedly kill for them.

she can be a loudmouth whenever she actually decides to speak, constantly fabricating outlandish stories and even going off like a deranged person, but beneath her caustic and frightening exterior, isla is rather pensive. on the occasion that she chooses to offer legitimate advice, it’s usually very elaborate and composed. still, she doesn’t want people to know about capable she is, or how intelligent she can be, so she hides her rare brilliance with a tough exterior and stoic personality.

idk if you can tell but i like diving into the specifics of my character like their star signs and stuff so i searched an amy dunne mbti and tweaked it bc it really helped describe her even further! she’s a intj !

introverted intuition (ni): isla sees everything around her in a world of symbols, of metaphors, and of potential. her narration will continually be littered with predictions, with ideas about how things are going to be and what will result from this or that. despite her brashness that some may assume is impulsivity, she is a planner, anticipating new “problems” and seeking to rectify them with her own twisted brand of justice. she tries to work everything into her overall system of understanding, of her big ideas about how the world works, including her take on her various false identities she possesses for her previous job as an escort but also to mess with the minds of others around her. she’s always disappointed by how the real world is never as good as the way she imagined it; she is perfect and nothing else can catch up with her expectations.

extroverted feeling (fe): despite her aloofness, and rather lack of any sort of emotional bearing, empathy, or any sort of true feeling, isla is conscious of how others’ perceive her, of the image she’s created, and of how key that social perception is to her success, even if it’s just in her own imagination. she restrains her real opinions in order to adapt to her environment, as she’s somewhat of a chameleon, only a few have had a chance to catch the true witch beneath the crown. she’s the mistress of change, easily altering her identities in order to better fit in with new people, should the situation require it. she’s easily devastated when she reveals her real personality to others, as in the past, some that she’s left truly see her have refused to accept her twisted true-self. even though she is wholesomely selfish and self-seeking, isla is very people-focused, and applies most of her intellect and analysis onto general people-based functions, that may she can have the confidence that she has clearly manipulated and analyzed every aspect of her environment, as she needs this to feel in control.

introverted thinking (ti): as mentioned, isla is highly analytical, always trying to see the why of a scenario, what’s behind human behavior, which turns her attention to psychology and manifests in her flair for anticipating the thoughts and actions of those around her; she is so obsessed with understanding why people tick that she looks past her own slighted judgment, as she herself could easily qualify as a sociopath/psychopath. she’s always trying to fit in any new experience, or piece of information, into her pre-established system of facts, and as such is rarely ever surprised. despite her apathy and lack of care for her life or how it progresses, she’s highly organized and loves to make checklists, arrangements for the future, and methodically ticks of her obligations, one by one. while her emotions and feelings are significantly suppressed, and even nonexistent, she makes up for that human trait with a very powerful mind, one that is quick to learn and adept with languages, memorization, and logic. however, she doesn’t want anyone to know just how brilliant and quick she is, as it’s her greatest asset, thus explaining why she chose not to be a member on the intellectual team.

extroverted sensing (se): isla tends to respond her physical environment with fierce analysis, as expressed in her intellectual capabilities. she’s almost incapable of living in the moment, contrary to how people suspect she is, considering she portrays herself as impulsive and cunningly excitable. in reality, though, even when she’s crossed off everything on her checklist, she’s almost incapable of relaxing, or enjoying the world around her, as she doesn’t find things that other people find beautiful. she struggles the most with the physical side of her plans, even though she is a very physical individual. she is very open with her body and indulges with the lusts of the flesh, as she sensuality is at the same level as her wickedness. along with this, isla craves for the environment that houses her figure to be pleasant and organized, and can’t stand when things are out of order.

[ryouverua]

Flashback light! Flashback light!

I just love the animated sequence a lot okay

Aaaw Tsumugi don’t ruin my fun D: Besides, we already missed out on the last one! Which... actually raises an interesting question. If these are being released sequentially, are we going to have a weird gap in our memories because the last one was broken? I guess it depends on how it works - maybe it’ll just bring back the memories that were next in line to be released anyway...

Well, I wonder if Tsumugi has a valid point though. 8′D The flashback lights are probably double-edged swords if Monokuma is giving them out like candy.

... With that said I guess I’m still wondering if all of the memories are theirs? I’ve played around with the ‘they’re regular high-school students who’ve had their memories written over/modified with the memories/identities of Ultimate students who died in the past’ - could at least make a decent jab at the somewhat ‘cyclical’ vibe I’m getting along with the life-and-death/resurrection and escapism theme... And considering there was that ‘Ultimate Hunt’ that showed them being hunted down by an unknown group and that Rantaro seems to have done this before.

Actually with that said, with the reveal of Kaito being sick - that actually... maybe fits in with this a bit. They would do a whole medical exam before accepting someone into astronaut training (forged papers aside lol) and considering the game we’re in, I’d be pretty surprised if this wasn’t a terminal disease he had. So how could he still be the Ultimate Astronaut without a clean bill of health? Well, if they picked up some random kid off the street and gave him the memories of the Ultimate Astronaut without checking for something like that, something that he clearly doesn’t remember - that would make quite a bit of sense, wouldn’t it?

But enough speculating, we have a return guest!

............. Hm.

That is.......... probably a lie, huh.

Damnit Miu, why have we been on the same wavelength so much recently?!

Oh come on, there’s no way that’s going to work -

KAITO I LOVE YOU BUT YOU GOTTA PUT YOUR GREY MATTER TO GOOD USE OUTSIDE OF SPACE TRAVEL

I just have this image of Kokichi with the controller just pressing ‘fast forward’ on the normal pre-flashback light dialogue -

“Come ooooon guys I get it! Blah blah blah dangerous blah blah blah memories blah blah! SHOW ME THOSE SWEET CHEEKS, SWEET CHEEKS!”

Remembered.....?!?!

Unrelated but did he just say talkin’ omg...

YEAH I’M PRETTY SURE THAT’S A BAD THING

So these were definitely the meteorites brought up in Kirumi’s video. And everyone watched that, right? So this shouldn’t be huge news to anyone but uh, apparently it is! Okay! Shit that’s one way to move past the first two games A BIT DRASTIC BUT OKAY

Oh that is not good. We... just got our first glimpse of the mastermind’s potential motive, huh?

THERE IS NO FUCKING WAY THINGS ENDED WELL YOU SWEET SUMMER CHILD

Oooh, new yellow text!

Which I suppose Kirumi would have been helping with...

Could it be because.... the plan required 16 Ultimate talent students? Maybe? but then the ‘Ultimate Hunt’ happened and those students were killed, hence the group funeral? Maybe??? Which is why we have 16 students that may have had to become the original group chosen to save everyone?? I am cramming my square peg theory into a round hole AND IDGAF ANYMORE

Oh fuck we’re not going to find out Miu is part of that cult are we - like it triggered our memories of the world-ending cult for us in general, but she’ll have some sort of connection to it and basically unlock a whole different set of memories for her - ?!

PSYCHE

.... was that just a red herring or is that actually foreshadowing 8′\ Gonta isn’t the only one waving red flags this chapter...

Himiko’s got her priorities straight.

Yeah, see, this is where I’m stuck too. I have theories on all this stuff but they don’t... really... fit together? False memories/identities of dead students (and perhaps them even attending the funeral of the actual students they’re imitating??) - that fits up to the whole ‘getting talents at the beginning of the game/funeral scene, and that feeling I can’t shake about how random/unwanted their talents are to most of them. It can even work with the Ultimate Hunt!

But then the meteors/them being in space or on a spaceship right now, and them being isolated from the outside world makes sense when you consider the meteorites and Kirumi talking about a terrible event she needed to escape to take care of, to protect the citizens of her country. It also makes sense about having the ‘Prime Minister’, an astronaut, an anthropologist, an inventor, a robot and even an artist and musician, along with all of those libraries and other areas containing information/things of human historical significance. You want to have not just kids with potential for a space mission/leadership (... I guess Supreme Leader can technically go there too??) but students representing arts and technology, who can keep those things going. With that said... the only way I can mash that together with the first idea is that the original set of talented children died? Maybe hunted down, aka the Ultimate Hunt, so they found these kids instead??? But even then, some of the talents get a major side-eye like... cosplayer can maybe work as seamstress and I suppose an assassin works as someone cool under pressure/willing to do things that need to be done, but a magician? Really? 

I’m definitely still missing some pieces of the puzzle, and that piece is definitely the mastermind’s role in this. .. Are we going the route of ‘the mastermind is part of the world-ending cult’ then? How very VLR of you

Ah right, that’s true... Ultimate Academy, and not Hope’s Peak, right?

Anyway, at least we’re only in Chapter 4. oTL It’s not like I’m out of ideas or anything - I’d hardly call the rambling from earlier being stumped - but nothing is clicking quite... right for me yet.

Man as much as I joke that I relate to Tsumugi and Shuichi, Kokichi and I have been on a bit of a similar wavelength too. 8′D That’s something I never thought I’d say, and yet here we are...

Hm... is that a good or bad thing?

Anyway, Kokichi seems hell-bent on pissing Kaito off. Which does make sense, actually! They’re officially the strongest personalities in the room and definitely have the most leadership potential. 

Kokichi why are you calling me out like this

RADICAL-9 OR HINAMIZAWA SYNDROME

............ OKAY KODAKA I GET IT YOU’RE FRIENDS WITH THE CREATOR OF THE ZERO ESCAPE SERIES

Kaito stop smashing the 4th wall open

FUCKING LMAO THAT’S THE MOST PRESSING ISSUE YOU HAVE KAITO?!

Oooh, looks like we still have shades of Angie’s council left over. That... could be a hint, maybe? About susceptibility to cults? It could turn out that someone who was willing to go along with Angie’s council was just as easily swayed by the world-ending cult...

[toonstarterz]

BECAUSE I’M NOT POPULAR, I’LL READ WATAMOTE: CHAPTER #130.2

When a series like Watamote needs to conclude an arc, there’s a delicate balance you need to take between developing the characters and keeping the status quo. As well as deciding how far on either side of that spectrum the characters should fall on. Question is, who will be affected the most by this Disneyland escapade in the end? 

Chapter 130.2: Because I’m Not Popular, The Field Trip Will End (Part 2)

One of most admirable (and frightening) traits about Nemo is how socially savvy she is. Now I wouldn’t say she’s terribly manipulative to the point where she’d feed Tomoko snacks just to be reciprocated later on. Her forethought isn’t that good. But she has a good memory, which makes it very easy for her to twist social conventions to suit her desires right in the moment. 

Take a shot whenever gritted-teeth Ucchi appears.  

I’m clapping right now.

I can see two reasons for Nemo’s refreshingly surprised reaction. One, she probably just expected Tomoko to go along with it, considering how unconfrontational the girl usually is around her. And two, for the first time, Tomoko was right on the nose about her motives, to the point where Nemo might not have fully realized it herself. Being called out is a rare experience for Nemo, and it makes her dynamic with Tomoko skyrocket with potential now that the latter is almost on equal footing with her.

Oh, Tomoko. Smart as she is, she’s still naive when it comes to recognizing how people view her. Can’t exactly blame her, though. Tomoko has always had this implicitly low self-value as a friend, so it must be difficult for her to comprehend that there are people now who are emotionally attached to her. In these situations, she tends to assume the selfishness in people first, never realizing the sentimental value of material goods.

A part of me worries that Tomoko’s desire for some easy money is indicative of how she views her future career options...

It’s telling that we don’t see Yuri’s face here because it signifies just how meaningless it is to Yuri that her keychain matches Nemo’s. In this case, a lack of visual reaction actually says a lot as opposed to a reaction we can see.

It’s sweet that Katou is close enough with Okada that she already knows the latter will agree to join them. 

Shakes my head in disappointment.

You’d think that with Yuri asking her if she knew her name, Tomoko would have caught on to how important it is that she call her “Yuri”. But, nope. Perhaps old habits die hard, or that Tomoko simply has an incredibly high standard for calling people with an affectionate name. Currently, Yuu is the only one with that “privilege”, and “Nemo” lacks delicacy. The way I see it, the hierarchy for Tomoko is Last Name → Face → First Name, with Yuri still square in the middle.

Yuri taking the path of least resistance, as always. Many others would’ve gone out of their way to find their friends, but that would require a level of proactive closeness that Yuri hasn’t internalized. She’s getting there, but seeing as her social stamina is probably very low at this late in the day, this is all she can do.  

I lost count of all the cute Yoshida pics we were blessed with during this arc.

I’m assuming that someone must have vouched for Yoshida’s absence, as I’m sure Ogino wouldn’t have just let a student go missing. Also, the idea that Yoshida packed a blanket just for this occasion is so adorably diligent of her.

Poor thing.

Is Yoshida actually making her plushie wave at the fireworks? I can’t take much more of this...

At first, it didn’t make sense to me story-wise for Nemo to go looking for Yuri instead of Tomoko or Yoshida, but as was suggested by Tomoko, Nemo’s moves are almost always calculated. If she went out to look for Yuri, she must be looking to accomplish something.

She says “Not really.”, but knowing Yuri, and her inability to be upfront about her feelings, as well as being generally polite, I don’t think that’s true. She most definitely feels closer to Yoshida and Tomoko than Nemo, but one thing we’ve learned about Yuri is that she refuses to look needy. 

Nemo being Nemo, is far too intuitive for her own good. 

After chapters upon chapters of mixed signals revolving around Nemoto’s motivations, we finally get something definite, and it honestly puts all of her passive-aggressive actions in a whole new light.

Knowing that Nemoto has always had these thoughts even when she was hiding them I feel is a lot more organic than her being upfront because some outside force, a.ka. Tomoko suddenly changed her. It emphasizes her autonomy and makes it easier to sympathize with Nemoto, which was much needed in my opinion.

Thing is, Nemoto is also walking a fine line between being honest and being rude, and at this point, she could easily tip over to the latter if she isn’t careful.

This is such an impressive facial expression because it’s loaded with personality, especially in the eyes. The gradients in her pupils reveal a raw honesty, as if we’re seeing Nemoto’s true, undisguised self for the first time. It’s unnerving to be sure, and a bit dangerous, but she still has the highlights, which radiates a degree of safety should Yuri fall into the abyss by answering her. 

Would you trust this face? Y/N?

I’m so proud of Yuri here. It’s incredibly easy to be all “No, I don’t hate you.”, or “What makes you say that?”. She gave a straight-to-the-point, un-sugarcoated reply, even when it could potentially put herself in a negative light in the eyes of Nemoto. It’s reassuring, knowing that Yuri isn’t afraid of being judged for her less-than-pleasant traits, but at the same time, it’s also put her at a disadvantage when it comes to making friends. 

Nemoto laying out the whole truth about never talking to Yuri is exactly what I meant when I said her upfrontness is a double-edged sword. By itself, it seems unnecessarily harsh, but it becomes acceptable as context for what Nemoto says next. 

The next few dozen chapters are going to be a riot.

Nemoto’s reasoning fascinates me because if you think about it, she really has no obligation to be friendly with Yuri. Part of Nemoto’s character is that she likes to talk in a way that doesn’t always hold her accountable. I don’t think it’s intentional, just that in her mind, having a mutual friend makes it an inevitable destiny that they’ll be talking a lot with each other. And while there is some truth to that, it does give off an eerie premonition that if Yuri does end up hating her, it’s not going to stop Nemo from doing what she does. 

But for now, it’s good to know that Yuri is considerate enough to affirm that she doesn’t hate her...for now. 

I wonder at what point will calling Tomoko a “moron” or “idiot” be considered affectionate rather than incisive. Or maybe it already has...

Seeing Yoshida be so sincerely gracious is a rare sight that should be appreciated while it lasts.

How ironic. Usually, it’s Minami trying to drag Mako around to wherever, but now it’s Mako doing the dragging. You’d think Minami would be more comfortable with a large crowd, but then you remember that it's being connected with others that Minami craves, not random strangers. And seeing as she only has Mako by her side now, all this waiting around must make her feel antsy. 

Great view, huh Ucchi? Something tells me she ain’t talking about the fireworks. (I’m almost certain she persuaded her five friends to go see the fireworks as her excuse for when she “coincidentally” bumps into you-know-you.)

I spy with my little eye, a Lethal Chef we haven’t seen for quite a while!

The Power Trio!

It would be a grievance of the highest caliber if I didn’t include a shot of the Magic Kingdom at the end of such a splendid arc. 

Mako’s little wave to the rest of the group I feel is important when establishing the dynamics that have been set. Even though she’s Yuri’s best friend, Mako doesn’t have the sort of relationship with her that Tomoko and Yoshida have provided. The Power Trio have a history that Mako wasn’t a part of. But that’s fine, because it works both ways in that Tomoko and Yoshida won’t ever play the role Mako does. So even if Mako isn’t with them in this instance, her waving back at them indicates that she’ll always be an honorary member of the Kyoto group.

And of course, we couldn’t possibly end this arc without everyone’s favorite ninja stalker, Emiri Uchi. 

If I’m not mistaken, Ucchi’s claim that “It’s so pretty,” holds much more meaning in a Japanese context. The words she uses in the original text doesn’t actually designate that it’s the fireworks she’s talking about. So if you wanted to, and I’m sure many people have, you could say that she’s talking about Tomoko. Additionally, her specific dialogue alludes a statement commonly used in manga to imply a romantic confession. 

Yeah, that’s right. Ucchi just called Tomoko “pretty’.

...

..

..

internally screams.

Those glossy emoji eyes had me rolling for a good five minutes.

Much like Mako, Ucchi’s last-minute cameo here is reflective of her role in the story thus far. Despite having increasingly more screentime, Ucchi’s presence in-universe towards the other characters is ancillary. She doesn’t really register on any of the girls’ radar, other than her own group of course. But even though Ucchi has always been two steps behind everyone else, she will never be left behind.   

Let me try my hand here:

Yoshida: Today was freaking awesome! I–

Mako: ...

Yuri: We couldn’t spend the whole day together, but I–

Ucchi: They were all a bunch of disgusting creeps, but still I–

Nemo: Thanks to Kuro and everyone else I–

Everyone: Had a lot of fun!

I’ve seen countless manga end their chapters with some variation of the characters’ saying how much fun they had, but I’ve never seen it quite like this, so props for that Nico Tanigawa. It’s really effective this way because it emphasizes the girls’ individual characteristics while still letting them share the same, emotional takeaway. It’s also the inverse order of the speakers at the end of chapter 125, further establishing the Disneyland trip as a full-circle experience they won’t soon forget. 

To end off this glorious arc, I’d like to say what I feel the Disneyland setting says about Watamote and its cast. Call it a corporate monster, but Disneyland is a universal excursion. If you can go, then you will go at least once out of a sense of obligation. The people who go there are definitely not all the same. You’ll have hardcore Disney fans, families who are just there on a trip, and others who didn’t even really want to be there. But whatever the reason, you’re pretty much guaranteed to have some degree of fun there, and that’s exactly what Tomoko and the others represent. As lonely, violent, popular, kind, mean, or fucked up as you are, we are all in the same boat, and that’s exactly the human connection which as helped Tomoko, and the series in general, come this far.

Thank you for joining us at The Happiest Place on Earth.

[mk-otro]

RP Advice No One Wanted: CONT’D

I wrote this six years ago. It was about roleplaying villains, but due to roleplay (or RP) circumstances I've encountered lately, I’ve made the mistake of revisiting it. The fact I still roleplay somewhere on the internet is surprising in itself; I haven't been fully persuaded to quit altogether just yet. Key words, there.

So here's a few additional RP-related bits of advice -- maybe some repeats of what I've said before, but all still relevant:

Concerning IC Character Portrayal and Development

I still stand by the fact that researching and reviewing canon is key to staying true to the character in question, especially if it's a villain. If a villain is serious, then be serious. If the character is bombastic? Be BOMBASTIC. If they're freaking terrible, go be terrible. HOwever, if there's enough wiggle room for personality you can slip in stuff that you think fits into the situation they currently find themselves in. As I've said before: a well-rounded character is a good character.

(This can also fall in with playing heroes and good guys. Take away the titles and it's really all the same concept.)

“But what if canon materials differ from each other? What if there are contradictions?” To that I say find the most prominent traits and work in what you can. (This probably goes for American comics since they're notorious for retconning their storylines every so many years. THERE'S JUST TOO MUCH, STOP)

Of Course, Development is A Whole 'Nother Monster

In-Game (or In-Character/IC) Development is like a double-edged sword. It's good to have a character progress from where they first started, it may not always turn out for the better. Sometimes the progression can get worse. Still, development shouldn't be drastically shifting every time Something Happens. It's a lot more haphazard, like the rings on a tree stump. Or something like that. What it shouldn't be is a consistent pattern of ups and downs.

For instance, a character can be really stubborn until something breaks that streak. Or, as another example, a character acts cowardly until they decide they need to step up and hold their ground. To have a character bounce back and forth between these changes messes up the progression.

Trying to balance out the effects of the scenarios can be exhausting unless you really know what you're doing with the information you have at hand. But no matter the changes, the core of the character should still be, y'know, identifiable. Distinguishable. If the changes are too extreme and you can't recognize who the character is supposed to be, then there's something wrong.

A character not changing at all is also something wrong. Maybe not wrong, but it feels...weird. I'm not sure how to describe it. Flat? Two-Dimensional? Same diff?

And Now Something A Little Different, But Still Relevant To The Topic of RP

I know RP isn't Serious Business ™ , but I find it crazy that people get very emotionally-involved on both the IC and OOC sides of text-based games. Not that being emotional is a bad thing; too much of it, on the other hand, can put a damper on everything that goes into playing fictional characters in fictional settings. So, some things to keep in mind:

- If you want to play with others, ask. If you have an idea for a scene or plot, that's even better!

- Common Sense says Communication is a Two-Way Street. You can ask for RP. They can ask for RP. If you want to do it, you accept. If not, then you decline politely. Same thing for goes for them. Not that difficult.

- While it's good to have fun, make sure you're all having fun. It's not fun when only one person reaps the rewards. Everyone has a part to play. If you're not the one running a scene, thank the people who do. They put a lot a work into it.

- No one can force anyone to do anything they don't want to do. Usually people are good at hashing out stuff for RP fun times, but there are some people who like to place their personal agendas on the unsuspecting without their full knowledge. You have to remember PEOPLE ARE PEOPLE, with real blood and guts and a brain and everything squishy. They're just like you! Not every detail will be agreed upon! That's just how it is! Talk it out. Brainstorm. Compromise if you have to! But if the answer is no, accept it and move on.

- Nobody wants to be That Person who harasses others because they didn't get their way. Unfortunately, some people either aren't socialized properly to understand 'no' as a statement and need more explanation for why they were refused. Others just don't take 'no' for an answer, which makes them Trash for undermining the reasons laid down in the first place.

* (In case there is no Moderator or Staff figure present to notify about a player behavior, it would be good to promptly end all communications with them. Anyone who is uncomfortable and Done ™ with such behavior is allowed to cut things short.)

- - - - -

So TL;DR; Some more guidelines to RPing that aren't THE guidlines but are good things to keep in mindSHUT UP, MK, you're not my mother, who needs to READ on a text-based game anyway-- I'M SHARING MY EXPERIENCES WITH YOU BECAUSE I WANT TO I'm too old for this.

RP is tiring, but it can be fun if you let it be! But if you ask to do something without putting in the effort, or ask why x is happening and what it has to do with anything, then I have to ask you one question in return: Why Are You Even Here?

[howardschatzphotography]

"Peter Dinklage, Actor."

Blog #227  10/17/17

I have blogged recently about the actors Elizabeth Moss and Terrence Howard, who came to my studio to be photographed doing a kind of improv for my monthly column in Vanity Fair. Here I’ll add the remarkable actor Peter Dinklage, famous for his central role in Game of Thrones. He came to be photographed for my book Caught in the Act. As was usually the case with actors’ portraits (as it is with most of my portraiture), I began by interviewing Dinklage, to learn more about his work, and to give him time to get comfortable with me. (His revealing and thought-provoking interview is near the end of this missive.) I then suggested scenes and asked him to create characters to act them. The writer and my frequent collaborator, Owen Edwards, helped develop and write the situations.

Hearing his mother’s unusual sounds, a toddler opens his parents bedroom door and sees what looks like his parents desperately wrestling.

Here, the actor was asked (directed) to play a brand new middle school teacher, confronting total chaos on his first day in a fourth grade class.

On the 405 Freeway in Los Angeles, you’re cut off by a busily texting driver in a Chevy suburban.

There have been burglaries in the neighborhood. It’s 3 a.m., someone is moving around downstairs; the landline is dead, and your cell phone is in your car.

At the family supper table with your wife and children. Your 15y/o daughter defiantly announces she’s pregnant and “can’t wait to be a mother.”

At a Justin Bieber concert, the “Biebs” has just pointed at you, a tween girl, and beckons you onto the stage.

A three-year-old declares that he hates everybody, and that there’s no way he’s going to his room for a time out.

A bunny-level skier unwisely decides to run the diamond slope, sees a tree dead ahead, and has no idea how to turn or stop.

“To be! Or not!! To be!!!” A desperate young actor in a way over the top audition for a the lead in “Hamlet.”

At a crucial bowling match, you, the team captain, have just dropped your ball on your foot.

After a lifetime of seeing hundreds of cartoons about people slipping on banana peels, you’ve finally seen someone actually do it.

Interview:

Peter Dinklage:  I don’t know if I had had the wisdom to own my size at an early age, I just shut down as a teenager and got angry. I didn’t have a sense of humor about it that I should have had. I found that later, and maybe had as a kid, but I just didn’t have it anymore. I just got bitter. I like the outcast community. No matter how famous or handsome an actor is, they are at their core a bit peculiar, because the profession is odd. In my 40’s, I still wake up going, “why do I do this for a living?” But then it has such beauty to it and I remind myself why I love it. But I think if you’re a little intelligent, you do question it often, or the good actors usually do find it a bit foolish. What else are you going to do? It’s a passion. I know a lot of young actors who are very successful in their 20s who are great people. Some people know how to deal with it. I actually thank God I was lucky to get a modicum of success and a career later in life. I don’t know how I would have dealt with it if it came in my early 20s when I was acting the fool. You know, I don’t know what I would have done with that money. I don’t know what I would have done with that recognition. I think it’s dangerous. When you get older, you’re a little more centered. I’m working, but it’s a double-edged sword. I obviously can’t play the roles that I wish I could. I still struggle too, but there are a lot of roles for dwarves in fiction for some reason and I seem to be getting work from those roles. I don’t know why some people have more choices than others. I don’t want to be cynical, but there are some really lucky actors out there and there are some actors that are so much better that are really struggling. And it’s just luck. A movie role is very solitary. There’s so much money at stake and there’s such pressure; you have very little time and you have to be so prepared. It’s a director’s art form and I love that. Also there aren’t enough artists anymore; the Fellinis and the Kubricks of the world have been replaced; it’s all about the actor. And it wasn’t about the actors in those movies; it was about the director and I loved that. As an actor myself, it can be terribly boring, the time spent on set, unless you’re with an entertaining group, because you’re just waiting around most of the time. I love the filmmaking process, but the day to day….. people think it’s romantic and great, but it really is the opposite. It can be very tedious. And there are moments, little gems throughout the day – hopefully you get one a day – moments of truth and a great take and hopefully the director will pick that in the editing room. But it can be boring. Theatre on the other hand is alive and you are in on the process a lot more and you have more control as an actor because you are delivering the final result. And it’s being with other actors in one room all day long hashing it out and then presenting it. It’s a very different beast. From an actor’s point of view, I enjoy theatre in terms of craft and films I enjoy because of the intimacy of it, and because I’m such a movie fan that I love waiting to see what the director will do with it. There’s acting before Brando and acting after Brando. He was all about sex. It was man, woman, … everything he did was, like, he’s going to fuck somebody. A lot of actors lead with their head and they start to overthink things. I think it’s better to lead with your groin than your head. We’re sexual creatures and I think all the great plays are charged to different degrees. You can’t deny the sexuality of acting. Obviously there are other things at play, but that’s a base. It informs I think, how you move. I wish that I could fake it better. … I don’t know how these very good actors cry on a dime. I want to know their secret. For those emotions to come up, I need my environment to be really real and scary. I’ve worked on some films and theatre where you get to that level and it’s beautiful, but I wish I could fake that level. A lot of actors can, really well, but I just can’t. I’ve never been able to. Oftentimes with films there’s a pressure, you should be able to do that at the drop of a hat. I wish I could. Every job you get better I think, hopefully; working with actors that are listening and don’t let you off the hook. And there’s a reason why the great actors are great, the really amazing ones, because they really listen. Unfortunately, that’s rare because people are very wrapped up in their performance. Just because you had a great experience making a movie doesn’t make the movie any good. The Station Agent, that was both a really great experience because it took so long to get that movie made and we were all in it from the beginning. That was a sense of accomplishment. And, finally, people saw it, more people saw it than we ever dreamed were going to see it. I think I’m so critical and I catch myself just being down on my acting too much, maybe because I’m a perfectionist. With acting specifically I want it to be amazing all the time and, so, I’m tough on myself when it’s not perfect.

I left time to create a portraits. He was so much fun and enthusiastic about collaborating with me that there were many images I felt worked wonderfully. Here are a few.  

Thank-you, Peter.

[daily-yoificrec]

June 2017 Rec Roundup

Top ten list for fics that were updated/posted in the month of June that I recommended! I say top ten, but they’re listed in no particular order. 

Bc I’m so busy, I chose to post w/o additional comments. but all of these fics are ones I highly recommend as must-reads, and even ones that are wips you should def give a try. 

1. if this be error by alykapedia || Rated T, 7.8k (WIP)

Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, But bears it out even to the edge of doom. If this be error and upon me prov’d, I never writ, nor no man ever lov’d

Yuuri Katsuki wants nothing more than to retire back to the country and busy his days with managing his family’s declining finances. At twenty-three, he is facing his fifth season in society unmated and with no prospects in sight.

At least until Lord Viktor Nikiforov makes him an offer he would be foolish to refuse.

“It is a truth universally acknowledged that an unmated omega in possession of a not-inconsiderable dowry, is in want of an alpha.”

JFALKJDA;FJS;LA THE PRIDE AND PREJUDICE ECHOES. This isn’t a p&p au though, it’s a regency au, but still that first line had me right away. This has an absolutely delightful beginning, with background offered and hints of worldbuilding throughout. The interactions are lovely, the setup is lovely and just

just

♡✧( ु•⌄• ) super duper fucking recommended wip to follow

just read it oh my god (⌯⌅⌄⌅)

2. boy next door by wingchestr || Rated E, 4.8k

“Hi, welcome to the Green Bean,” Yuuri says, in the way that’s become something of a joke between them. “What can I get for you today?”

In which Viktor buys way too much coffee from the cute barista at the coffeeshop on the corner, and Yuuri has a terrible crush that Viktor never, ever needs to know about, and somehow it all works out in the end.

Really cute a/b/o and coffeeshop au! The author’s other fics are amazing, so I have really high expectations for this one. Yuuri and Victor have great chemistry.

3. What it feels like to be Loved series by tothebatcave53 || Rated M, 19.4k

Being blinded by love isn’t a bad thing, unless it blinds Victor to all of Yuuri’s less than subtle hints about being a dragon.

Comment: I love!!!! This series!!!!!!!! Really funny and really fun to read, with touches of worldbuilding and wonderful interactions between Yuuri and Victor. I reread the entire thing when I saw the fourth part go up. Magic realism is great, dragons are fuckin A, and I’m very weak for the idea of Yuuri hoarding Victor. The affection is just wonderful.

Heck. Read it please.

4. can’t count the years by counterheist || Rated T, 4.8k

A local magazine features Mila’s as the best breakfast spot in town one year after it opens. The opposite page is devoted to a pie shop Mila has heard of, but never been to. Easy as Pie gets a paragraph of text and three photographs. One shot is a slice of blueberry pie, another is of hands kneading dough. The last one is of a woman with long, dark hair and olive-toned skin holding an armful of large blue ribbons. Sara Crispino, the caption reads, owner and baker at Easy as Pie holds all six of her National Pie Competition blue ribbons.

Mila drives over the same day she sees the article, as soon as the breakfast rush ends.

Pls read this if you love saramila bc it’s so good and there aren’t nearly enough saramila fics in this fandom. There’s also side vicyuu! But seriously, read this for diner owner Mila and pie master Sara. I really love the dynamics built between everyone, especially Mila and Victor’s friendship.

5. learn to love the skies I’m under by LinneaKou || Rated M, 11.3k (WIP)

The day after the Sochi GPF banquet, Katsuki Yuuri disappears without a trace.

The day after the Sochi GPF banquet, Viktor Nikiforov finds a stray poodle and takes it home with him.

These two events are, oddly enough, connected.

Comment: Sadder than one would expect. The premise isn’t unfamiliar, as it’s inspired by another fic (which the author lists, and I’ve read) but the author still executes it really well. Expect feelings when you read this, no matter how soft some things may seem.

6. kiss and cry in the corners of my castle by unexpectedtrash || Rated G, 6k (WIP)

Yuuri only wanted to go back home to Hasetsu, where the ocean was warm and life was mundane and comfortable. Take it back, he wanted to beg. I never asked for this gift. Magic was a double-edged sword, and with Voldemort advancing, Yuuri wants to turn tail and run.

Only, Yuri might have a thing or two to say about that.

Comment: There are A Lot of Hogwarts AUs, but this one is setduring the events of the Harry Potter books themselves, and I love how it’s kicked off. Slytherin Yuuri vs. Umbridge, Angry Badger Yuri Plisetsky, and this makes me very excited about how they’re going to integrate the characters with the story.

7.Night is Young and the Music’s High by opalish || Rated T, 3k

“Best press conference ever,” the Japanese Nationals silver medalist says when asked. “Ten out of ten, would medal again.”

“I would die for Katsuki-kun,” Minami declares, with terrifying sincerity.

“He doesn’t need a shovel talk, he needs another gold medal. And that’s something I never thought anyone would say about Victor Freaking Nikiforov.“

“Freakingevich,” Yuuri corrects him officiously, adjusting his glasses. He’s been studying.

And:

“Well, it won’t affect me,” Victor says dramatically. “Not when I’m just Breakdancing Sensation Yuuri Nikiforov-Katsuki’s unnamed but spectacularly beautiful husband.”

“You’d better be Figure Skating Legend Yuuri Nikiforov-Katsuki’s unnamed but spectacularly beautiful husband,” Yuuri mutters, vowing to never dance in public ever again.

Beautiful hilarious characterization, dialogue that has me cackling, just in general this fic has me throwing it as a rec to various group chats as well.

Ten out of ten, would read again. 

*zooms off to do just that*  ≡ = -└( 。 >ω<)┐

8. a covenant with a bright blazing star series by seventhstar

The A/B/O Regency marriage of convenience AU no one actually wanted.

In which the reclusive and highly respectable Lord Yuuri Katsuki is offered fifty thousand pounds if he remains married to poor, scandalous trademan’s son Viktor Nikiforov for a year. Desperate for funds, he accepts.

It’s only one year, after all. What’s the worst that could happen?

comment: I am, admittedly, slightly confused as we still don’t have the background yet but so far this series is great omg. The vicyuu relationship promises to be great, the Pride and Prejudice influences make me bounce excitedly, and this is certainly a series to stalk if you don’t mind A/B/O fics.

Pride and Prejudice influences, people. tryyyyyyyy iiiiiiiit

9.  Driving Mr. Katsuki by CullinanKatsudon || Rated M, 13k (WIP)

Yuuri Katsuki gets into Victor Nikiforov’s car, mistaking it for his Uber ride…and Victor doesn’t correct him.

Comment: Oh my god this au and this fic are ridiculous but holy hell, the author has me fuckin invested as yell. I’ve laughed and pitied Yuuri and facepalmed at Victor and this fic is just a ride. Super duper fucking recommend, it’s hilarious and brilliant and I just. I laughed so hard.

10. cancel your reservations by renaissance ||  Rated T, 5.4k

Yuuri is a college student conducting private fencing lessons for a handsome, rich, and mysterious student. Viktor is not learning to fence because he does medieval reenactments.

ak;ljdskafl;jsa; I saw this prompt floating around only a few days ago, and the author’s executed it so damn well. Yuuri and Victor hit it off amazingly, Yuuri is amazingly oblivious to something other than Victor’s romantic overtures for once, and this is 10/10 recommend would read again.

[devilsnwitches]

SSDD - Ch1 All Hands on Deck

AO3 <Link - Written by Me & @lynxtigerwritings

Tags = AU Canon-Divergent / Canon-Typical Violence & Behavior

Pairings = Vergil-OFC / Dante-OFC / Nero-Kyrie

Note - READ LOVE’S SACRIFICE IT’S V PROLOGUE - Pairing V/OFC

If there was one thing Vergil was thankful for, it was that even when he was severely poisoned he could not only feel the presence of the Yamato but also his son. He was also thankful they were in the same place, making it so much easier to focus. Wrapped up in his cloak, shivering even when he was dripping sweat from excursion and fever, he picked his head up when he heard the voice of a sweet girl.

“Hey you two! Dinner’s ready!”

Vergil’s brows pinched together. Was that Kyrie? It echoed from the garage up ahead, the door halfway open. He’d be able to duck under it. That was where the source of the energies was, too.

He wasn’t one to swear, not like Dante or even Nero, but fuck his whole body was shooting white-hot pain all over every step he took...Goddamn Stolas’ for sicking his poisonous plants on him, going after him from behind...All because of Abaddon...

“You, uh...you need somethin’?”

When had he gotten across the road?

“What...hungry? Heh...in luck...food’s ready and Kyrie...too much.” As his vision doubled, most of the sentence was distorted. The sound of clanking reached his ears. That was definitely his son’s voice, and that had been Kyrie after all. Nero had said her name so sweetly...had their relationship developed further? How long...had he been away?

Vergil slipped under the garage door and slowly stepped closer, breathing heavy. His mind was wavering...Focus! He needed to tell Nero...he needed to admit he...needed help.

“Hope...loud talkers...a pair of those...” Nero had stood up and paused whatever he was saying, but now he was closer Vergil heard him more clearly, “...see somethin’ ya like?”

A blue glow alerted Vergil, feeling the energy of the Yamato spike. When had his son’s arm become demonic?

“You a demon?” Nero growled, obviously on edge now.

That wasn’t what he wanted and he lifted his hand, skin showing grey and veins black in the light. Suddenly desperate he worked his throat and rocked on his heels as he lost his balance, “Nero…”

“Nero! The food’s getting cold! What’s-” Kyrie was immediately cut off.

“Call Dante!” Nero shouted as he swung himself forward. The voice sounded...but it couldn’t. When the robe fell from his face, Nero’s eyes widened and then narrowed. His father looked as though he had aged terribly. The black veins were sucking the very life out of him, and it looked like it was slow acting. Nero knew not a thing about poisons. He only knew how to point and shoot. Kyrie might have something in the home to help slow it down further, but an actual antidote would have to come from Dante, if the demon hunter even knew what the poison was. If this could be cured. “Hey. Father.” His skin was flecking at his very touch, as though he were crumbling to dust.

He slowly pulled the robe back on, trying not to let it rub too much on his father’s skin and hoisted him up. “We’re going to get you upstairs.” He told him seriously. “Kyrie’s calling Dante, I’m sure and we’ll get you better.” As better as they possibly could. “Alright? You gotta stay with me ol’ man. That’s your job right now. You got that? Stay with me.”

His voice needed to work goddamn it but all he got for a second was a chest-rattling grunt to show he was listening. Any other circumstance he would consider this humiliating, and every jostle, as accidental as it was, hurt like a bitch. When he was finally set down on a bed - at least it wasn’t a couch - he reached and grabbed Nero’s arm, choking out, “Yamato...the...power will...” he hissed as his whole body shuddered in a shiver yet a bead of sweat went down his temple, “Slow..it...down...” he finished, feeling incredibly weak and he hated it.

Slow it down? Nero looked at his arm where the Yamato was sealed away. Dante was going to fry him. The Yamato would practically call out every demon from their hiding spots, but what choice did he have? He reached into his palm and pulled the sword out, “What do I do?”

Instead of wasting breath, Vergil took it from him and promptly pressed it to his chest where it pulsed with energy. It felt good to have his sword back in his hands, and it when he was able to finally suck air through his teeth and into his lungs instead of fighting for every breath, he relaxed into the bed. Eyes fluttering back open, they were a lot clearer now. Everything still hurt, the poison was still creeping, but he didn’t look or feel like he was going to die in the next heartbeat. “In answer to...your question,” he swallowed hard, throat dry, “Check with...Kyrie. The poison is...from Stolas’ plants. Another demon.” Not being able to articulate his words properly irked him to Hell and back. At least he got his point across.

Nero got up onto his feet. “I got it.” He told him as he walked out of the room. The girls were around the kitchen table looking grim.

“What was that about?” Nico asked clicking her tongue and folding her arms.

“Poison from Stolas.” Nero looked over at Kyrie who was holding the phone. “If that’s still Dante tell him that. I bet he had a few ideas.”

“Do you know who Stolas is?” Kyrie asked the seasoned hunter on the other end, her hand pressed over her heart in worry, “Nero learned that’s where the poison’s from.” Noticing he was holding his arm and it wasn’t as bright, she tilted her head, silently asking if he was alright.

Nero nodded and gave Kyrie a trade-mark smile but he listened for Dante’s reply.

“Looks like I gotta call Lysander. Now to hope that one of them picks up the phone. I’ll be there shortly afterward. Not sure if it’ll help, but holy water might ease it a twinge. He’ll be in a hell of a lot of pain but it’s better that than to bite his tongue and die.” Dante sighed on the other end before hanging up.

“Holy water until help arrives. Do we have any?” she looked at Nico who tended to keep stock of their supplies, then to Nero, “Somebody named Lysander’s going to hopefully be here.”

Nico shrugged, “I might have some but you might wanna make another batch Kyrie just in case. I’ll go down to my van. Be back in a sinch.”

X

“Yo! Sis!” the younger Lysander sister shouted to the void that was her apartment with Charlotte, “The world must be ending, Dante’s called! Asking about plants. That’s your shtick.”

Charlotte blinked from reading. Quietly the older sister closed her book and dig into the mess of papers where her own cellphone was. Three missed calls. All from Dante. Oops. “What about plants?!”

Yvette came from the hallway, phone to her chest so she could talk without getting mixed signals, “Some douchebag demon named Stolas?”

“Ugh. Where?” Charlotte asked as she got up from her desk and went over to her closet. Better drag out the big guns. She reached up and pulled a large oak case that jiggled and clinked ominously. “We’re gonna have to go fast meaning you drive Vet.”

Pale green eyes lit up and she put the phone back to her ear, “Text me the address, would you? On our way now.” If she had the address then that’d make it easier for Charlotte to input it into her GPS and give her directions. Honestly, she was giddy with the thought of getting out of the house and driving. Sure it was dire circumstances, but meeting new people was always fun, and if it was Dante asking for help then part of her knew they were a few steps shy of having a hunt.

“Sure thing,” Dante said, “Tell your sister she’s shit at having a phone.” It was a nice little jab. “See you.”

Not even five seconds went by before Yvette’s phone dinged with a text for the address. Charlotte hauled the big case up and over her shoulder. The rattling increased tenfold. “Following you out the door kiddo.”

X

Honestly, falling asleep was a horrible idea. Vergil was lucky as hell to even open his eyes again. All he remembered last was little concerned Kyrie -my how she’d grown- soothing him while Nero not only made him drink a shot of holy water but apply it to some of the wounds from his skin flaking.

What brought him to consciousness he wasn’t quite sure. All of a sudden he felt Dante’s energy, and drawing near was the presence of what he could only guess was a witch. A rattling noise echoed in the hallway before the door was eased open. Reflexively he gripped his sword, but the sight before him threw his guard off. Straight strands of brown hair spilled over the woman’s shoulders, and as she turned on the light to see what she was doing he was sucked into deep green eyes that reminded him of staring into a forest.

Heaven and Hell combined, he must be really off his game, poison be damned.

Charlotte didn’t miss how he reached for his sword. A part of her wanted to be cheeky about how that sword wouldn’t do much against her and he was delusional, but she kept her mouth closed. This poor man was going through hell. She placed the big case on the ground and kicked it open. It unfolded itself to show so many different kinds of vials in many different colors.

She carefully sat on the edge of the bed and slowly telegraphing her moves to pick up his arm and looked at the black veins. “Holy water?” She mused. “Fast thinking.” She looked up at the man who was on the bed.

“Can he be saved?” Dante asked, folding his arms against his chest.

“He can be,” Charlotte said soothingly and turned to Vergil. “Stolas did this? It’s a new kind of poison. Taking demonic energy and transforming it into literal poison.” She turned away and started to sift through the vials. She hummed a tune softly under her breath.

Such a lovely sound...Vergil closed his eyes briefly before he shifted, “Dante, Stolas got me...in the back. Starting at...the source...might help.” Which of course meant he had to take off his cloak, jacket, vest, and possibly his shirt. “Normally wounds...heal closed. This one...did not.” Which of course meant it had been festering.

Dante walked around the bed and helped Vergil turn around once they got him out of the complicated outfit. The odor was terrible and Charlotte clicked her teeth.

“What the fuck, dad.” Nero hissed when he saw the damage that was on his father’s back. He hadn’t wanted to leave his side, but holy…

“Stolas didn’t really know the safe word here.” Dante grimaced.

“Lets…” Charlotte started to pull her hair back into a makeshift bun. “Yvette I need gauze and warm wet towels.” She lowered herself so Vergil could hear her. “How steady is your grip? I can give it to you orally and you take it yourself or I find a different method.”

“Either holding the Yamato...in a death grip...or not at all,” Vergil admitted with a sigh, feeling even colder than before but at least the cool air on the back of his neck where he was drenched in sweat was relieving. He heard the creaking of the door as this ‘Yvette’ left the room to get what was asked of her. “What other methods?”

“One method is that I administer it through a kiss, another is that I open that wound of yours and try to see if I can’t get it to take through the bloodstream. I can even have you sit up and I pour it down your throat if you’d prefer.” Charlotte listed.

“Won’t even consider taking you out to dinner Verg.” Dante teased, though the worried edge on his voice betrayed his feelings.

Nero rolled his eyes. He’s been there. He’s done that. “I’m going to help Yvette find the towels. It’s crowded in here.” He knew his father didn’t want to display too many weaknesses to too many people. At least the Lysander woman was trying her best.

“I was thinking...the same thing,” Vergil nodded to Nero in appreciation and he released a long breath when his son was out of the room, leaving the three of them. Even the Yamato pulsed a little bit when he thought about her kissing him and he shook his head in spite of the ache, “Sit up...pour it.” Lifting his hand to his brother he grit his teeth when Dante grasped his wrist and hauled him up, his body lurching to the side only to be caught by the woman. Her touch set him on edge, but not out of distaste. “My shirt. I’ll bite it.” Whatever it was she gave him to cure the poison was going to make him scream.

“I can knock yo-Okay then.” Dante had to admit it was nice that Charlotte didn’t even try to persuade Vergil to do the other thing. She uncapped the vial. “Brave man.” She set the cap to the side and she scooted a little closer to Vergil. She knew this was going to hurt. He was going to drink it, it was going to taste vile, he was going to hate it and when it was also poured on his wounds with the towel and gauze he was either going to pass out or scream loudly enough to wake up the neighborhood. That shirt of his was going to get torn, undoubtedly. She swirled the vial three times in either direction and looked at Vergil squarely. Like two warriors on opposite sides of a battle. “You can swear at me, I know I’m the bitch in this scenario.” Without further ado, she helped him drink it.

Vergil expected the taste and covered his mouth as he tried not to cough and spit it out, squeezing his eyes shut and swallowing down the bile and the liquid. In the nothing that followed he grabbed his shirt, twisted it and when the first pangs of something made him double over he shoved the cloth in his mouth in time to feel burning.

Yvette returned with the items Char asked for in time to see Vergil slam his body back onto the bed which creaked ominously at the abuse. Screaming into the wad of his shirt while his hands gripped the edges. Yup. That shirt would be pieces by the end of this. “Lotty,” she whispered to get her sister’s attention, holding up the wraps and towels, “Anything else you need help with? Holding him down when you wrap him?”

Charlotte looked at Vergil who was panting, Dante was gripping his brother tightly and they both looked at each other before Charlotte shook her head. “No.” She said after a moment. “I think once we get this done, we can take watch. Make sure it doesn’t get worse or continue to spread.”

“Sounds like a plan, how long does it take?” Dante asked, carefully loosening his grip on his brother so that he could reposition himself. Charlotte carefully took the things from Yvette.

“Twenty four hours, if not a little less since he’s half-demon.” Charlotte determined. “The wound on the back is what I’m worried about most. It’s been infected and reinfected. Actually, Yvette, shove my case a little closer to the bed.”

Huffing mostly at the weight of it, Yvette did as she was told and cocked her head when Vergil screamed again, back arching and if it wasn’t for Dante she’d fear he’d snap his back in two, “I’ll get you another cloth for his forehead, a basin while I’m at it. He’s drenched.”

“You sound like a peach,” Charlotte said as she shifted through the vials a little quicker this time before picking one up. She unrolled the gauze and started to drip some onto cloth and leaned in uncomfortably close to get the wrapping around. “At least,” Charlotte said dryly, “I’m wearing a bra for this.”

Dante appreciated the humor. She was as much in an uncomfortable position as his brother and he was grateful that Charlotte knew how to work swiftly as she did carefully. His brother still writhed in pain and agony, but he still kept a firm grip so he wouldn’t ruin more of her handiwork. “This is going to take all night.” He sighed.

“I’d much rather he scream and punch than to go still and iced,” Charlotte said bluntly. “Yvette can hold him down as well as you can, but I’m pretty sure I’m pushing limits as I am.”

“You know his pride.” Dante huffed a laugh. “I didn’t realize that was infamous.”

“I have my own honor code I abide by. It drives Vet up the wall. Ask her. One time she legit threatened to shoot me over it I kid you not.”

“Oooh boy, you’re his type.” The younger twin snorted, but then had to double his grip again at another wave. “I’m a little worried about putting him on his back or even on his stomach.” He admitted. “I don’t feel like he can handle that.”

Charlotte didn’t blame him for that line of thinking. But Dante couldn’t hold him all night long and while Yvette did offer to help, Charlotte wasn’t sure if it’d make things better or not. “We have to. We’re better off keeping him from rolling off the bed than we are to restrain him. That’s wasted energy and effort.”

“Logical and precise.” Dante let out a breath. “Okay then.”

They helped each other to get Vergil to lay down, but the moment that they got him back onto his stomach, it was a hell storm. It was agony for touch, for the skin to be pulled and soon enough that antidote would stop burning and it would be numbed, hopefully drugged. Hopefully. His back needed to heal, and him writhing around wasn’t helping. She didn’t doubt that after the first hour, she’d have to change them again.

“I’ll tell Nero we’re taking watch shifts and let Vet know that too. If you’re hungry, I’m sure Kyrie can heat up whatever dinner they were having.” Dante offered as he slowly got himself untangled from Vergil’s grip and body. “She feeds an army and then some, it’s no hassle.”

Charlotte sighed, “Sure. I can’t work on an empty stomach and if there’s room to share, I’ll take it.”

“Awesome. Keep an eye out, you get first watch,” Dante patted Charlotte’s shoulder before heading down the stairs to let the group know what was going on.

“Should’ve let ‘im punch me,” was the barely audible whisper when he was well out of earshot, voice too hoarse and literally cotton-mouthed after his tattered shirt was gone.

Charlotte looked down at Vergil. “At this point in time, I don’t think you’d even know what a punch feels like.”

All he did was hum and Yvette came back in with the cloth and basin she promised a while ago, “Dante told us. I’ll bring your food up when it’s ready, yeah?”

“Sure.” Charlotte looked over at Yvette, “By the dresser thanks.” She let out a low sigh as she started to make herself comfortable on the side of the bed. “I’m good here.” She assured her sister.

“Hmm, I’m sure you are,” Yvette gave her a sly wolfish smile and easily danced away when a pillow was thrown at her, ‘kekeke’ing and tossed it back before leaving her alone with Vergil until she brought food.

“Should’ve shot her, but I don’t know if that’s worth a bullet or my sanity,” Charlotte muttered darkly as she pushed the pillow against her stomach, glaring heatedly at the door. She waited for a moment, in case her sister decided to come back. When it was clear, she set the pillow to the side and went to the basin. The water was lukewarm, which was nice. She dipped the cloth in, and wringing it out before going back to Vergil and gently swiping it across the back of his neck and his forehead, humming soft.

Sleep had nearly claimed him before he felt her gentle touches and picked up on her sweet humming. It was the same tune from before and something he didn’t cater to often, curiosity, nagged at him. Perhaps later he could ask. Instead of releasing another little hum to answer hers, Vergil heard a different noise. With his body so numb, it took a second to realize it was coming from deep, deep in his chest. Not quite human, either. If he had any strength left to care, he would be embarrassed as hell his demon was purring and trilling.

Charlotte heard it. She heard it and it made her pleased. She didn’t know much about hybrids, let alone half-demons. Yet she knew that the demons had their own little purrs and noises that they made. Animalistic as they were, they were sometimes more human than humans. To know that hybrids and half-demons could do the same thing as a regular demon, well...that was going to be her secret to keep. She hummed in tune with the purring and trilling as she wiped away the sweat, and cooled his body down. She didn’t stop humming when she put the cloth back into the basin and went back to settle on the side of the bed. She certainly didn’t stop humming until he was nice and knocked out.