#clearly so unused to not having to do everything by herself

[sugaredrhubarb]

one thing about me is that i will be falling asleep to videos of men (who only show their hands) explaining their niche hobbies or skills. miniature building? vintage toy restoration? sheep shearing? farriery? drain clearing? lock picking? logging? oh baby!

[tooclevertobehappy]

Hidden in plain sight Part.2

TRIGGER WARNING: Mention of blood and injury

Clara was worried. She thought she had done a good job hiding her issues over the past few weeks, but Ingrid's visit to her house yesterday and the text she sent afterward showed that maybe she hadn’t done as well as she thought.

She’d been there when Ingrid came, hiding in her room and nursing new bruises. They had been the whole reason why she canceled dinner that night—knowing she wouldn’t have been able to hide the pain that inhabited her every move.

That’s what worried her the most. She’d done so well hiding it so far, and the possibility of it all coming to light terrified her. She couldn’t handle the thought of her teammates finding out, of them looking at her differently—like she was a shattered mirror, ready to break at any time. She wasn’t fragile.

Clara had handled everything thrown at her so far: her mom leaving, her father’s descent into drinking-induced madness, the bruises, the cuts, the pain. She had gone through it all and stood tall in the face of it. She would not allow them to see her as weak.

So, she went to training, already dressed in her kit to avoid changing in front of her teammates, armed with a dozen excuses, ready to handle Ingrid’s inevitable questioning. But Ingrid didn’t ask questions. She didn’t even come to talk to her. She stayed in front of her locker with Mapi, giving Clara only a small smile when she came in—nothing else.

It confused Clara even more. She had come into the changing room ready for war, only to be faced with peace. She didn’t know what to do.

She stayed in front of her own locker for a few minutes, trying to figure out a new plan of action for the day. After a while, she sat down and put on her football boots, her eyes darting around the room every few seconds to make sure no one was watching her before making her way out to the pitch.

Her first mistake was allowing herself to relax after avoiding questioning. Her second mistake was getting lost in her thoughts while walking out. The third and fatal mistake was walking headfirst into Alexia as she exited the facility.

The blonde captain reached out to steady her before Clara could topple them both over. Grabbing her by the shoulder, Alexia was so concerned with staying on her feet that she missed the flinch of pain on Clara’s face when her hand tightened on her shoulder.

“You okay, nena?” the captain asked.

“Y-... Yeah, I’m alright,” Clara gasped out, the words barely escaping her.

Clara wished she could smack herself. Her voice was raspy, unused to speaking so much. She knew she had made another mistake when Alexia’s brow furrowed, her eyes scanning every inch of Clara’s face.

Clara could feel her stomach drop. If she had been worried about Ingrid and Mapi finding out, she was terrified of Alexia. The captain was known for not dropping issues until she fixed them, and Clara did not want her to find out about her situation.

“Are you sure? You seem... off?” Alexia demanded.

“Yes! Yes, I’m good, fine, all good!” Clara exclaimed, her voice more frantic than she intended. When Alexia raised an eyebrow in disbelief, Clara added, “I worked on my homework a little later than usual yesterday. I’m just a little tired.”

Alexia surveyed her from head to toe, a frown etched on her features, clearly unconvinced by Clara’s explanation. But with little time before practice, the captain was obliged to let the matter go for now.

“Let’s go before we’re late, nena,” she said, placing a hand on Clara’s back and leading her toward the training field.

The two walked in silence, taking in the last few minutes of peace before the chaos of training. Jona had planned for them to face off in an 11 vs. 11 match to work on set pieces for their next match against Valencia.

Clara didn’t like this type of training. Everyone was rowdier than usual, all obsessed with winning and claiming gloating rights until the next match. She liked playing with the team but wasn’t overjoyed about facing them on the pitch.

Though the players usually tried to be more careful not to bang her around due to her age, the inevitable collision was always a concern.

She took extra care to stretch longer than usual, more aware of the general ache in her body, being careful not to injure herself so close to a game. Caro joined her, as the two usually stretched together, appreciating the last few minutes of quiet before the storm.

If Caro noticed Clara taking longer to stretch than usual, she didn’t say anything, but Clara could feel her eyes lingering on her when they joined the rest of the team.

The training went well. They practiced passes, took shots on goal, and Clara felt confident that, like always, she had managed to fool them. She even felt a little proud of herself.

But the dreaded 11 vs. 11 match was next. While Clara was confident in the team she was in, she wasn’t sure she could keep up. Normally, she would run circles around everyone, her youth granting her more stamina than her older teammates. But now, she was hurt and tired, and all she wanted to do was sleep.

The bruises littering her ribs pulled at every movement she made and rendered her unable to pull in as much air as she usually could, she found herself straining to stay concentrated as the rough stop and turns she made as she ran seemed to pull at every bruise and cut she had.

Still, she powered through. She even managed to chip the ball over Cata’s head and received a few head pats from her teammates for it. They all congregated near the goal, waiting for a corner to be taken. Though Clara wasn’t small, she wasn’t the tallest on the team, but she had a knack for heading the ball when no one expected it.

As the ball left Mariona’s feet, Clara jumped between her teammates and headed straight for the ball when she collided with something. She was pushed off her intended path, still in the air, and fell back, hitting her head directly on the goalpost. Silence overtook the pitch as the sound of Clara's head banging on the metal post seemed to ring through all of them.

For a few seconds Clara felt nothing, her eyes could barely stay open and all she could see was a blurry mess of colors, then came the pain, like a fire spreading over her head she clenched her fists, and the only sound coming out of her ended being a small whimper before her beaten down body had enough, and she felt herself slip into unconsciousness.

The whole team stared in horror at Clara’s body sprawled on the ground. The noise her head made when it collided with the post froze everyone in their place.

The trainers that were stood a couple of dozen feet away stared running, grabbing medical equipment as they went, calls for an ambulance could be heard as they approached.

But none of the players moved, all staring at Clara laying still on the ground as if moving would make the horror real.

Finally, Ingrid snapped out of her stupor and rushed to her, sliding on her knees next to Clara, her hand hesitantly reaching out to her shoulder.

“Clara? Can you hear me?” Ingrid frantically asked.

“Nena? Come on, open your eyes for me,” Mapi added. Ingrid didn’t know when her girlfriend had joined her, but she was now kneeling on Clara’s other side, holding her hand.

The small striker didn’t answer, remaining limp on the ground. When they finally managed to get her on her back, they were terrified to see the blood covering Clara’s face marring the usually joyful traits on her face, making her look younger and smaller than she truly was.

They were soon joined by the trainers, who wasted no time pushing them away from Clara. They carefully cleaned her forehead, revealing the gash responsible for the alarming amount of blood. They wrapped her forehead in gauze, shone a light in her eyes, and tried to get her to regain consciousness, but to no avail.

After a few minutes, the decision was made to immobilize Clara on a board and transport her to the hospital for a brain scan to rule out further injuries. The team stood back, watching as Clara was put in a neck brace, lifted onto the board, and strapped in before being taken away in the ambulance that had been called as soon as the trainers noticed she hadn’t gotten up.

Even though Clara was no longer on the field, the team stood in silence for a few minutes, staring at each other, wondering how everything had gone wrong in just a few seconds.

Ingrid was holding Mapi’s hand so tightly that the defender wondered if she would still have a hand by the time they let go.

Jona understood that there was no way practice could continue after Clara’s fall and dismissed the team for the day.

Ingrid and Mapi rushed to the changing room, hoping to shower and change quickly so they could head to the hospital. Neither of them was comfortable with the idea of Clara being alone and unconscious in an unfamiliar place.

On their way there, they ran into Alexia, who seemed to be rushing as much as they were.

“You’re both going to see the nena, yes?” she asked, more ordering than asking. “I’m going too, as soon as I’m showered. Leave her stuff here, and I’ll bring it to her as soon as I’m done talking to Vicky and Esmee.” While she too wanted to check on Clara, she had to make sure the other youngsters on the team were okay after witnessing the injury.

Ingrid nodded and continued dragging Mapi to the changing room. As they quickly showered and changed before getting in their car, Ingrid couldn’t help but let her mind wander to the what-ifs.

What if Clara was seriously injured? What about her brain? Why hadn’t she woken up on the field? She couldn’t help but wonder if things would’ve gone differently had they checked on her in the changing rooms, but Ingrid didn’t vocalize those thoughts aloud, knowing Mapi’s tendency to overthink and panic. But the way her hands gripped the steering wheel left no room to question how worried she was.

After what felt like hours but in reality was only about half an hour, they finally arrived at the hospital and rushed into the emergency room. They went straight to the reception and gave Clara’s name.

They exchanged worried glances when they were told to wait for someone to come and get them. Worst-case scenarios sprang to mind as they sat in the waiting room. Finally, someone called their name.

However, it wasn’t a doctor or nurse—it was a police officer.

[drdoofenfaithcreatingchaos]

This is a really specific request so it's absolutely fine if you don't feel comfortable doing it but protective Liam standing up for his autistic gf to her dad or older man family member who keeps being willfully ignorant and making comments

Support||Liam Lawson x fem!autistic!reader

Word count—769

Liam’s patience finally snapped as the older man—her father—leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms with a smug look on his face. The latest comment had been the tipping point.

“I just don’t get why everything has to be so complicated with you,” her father said, his voice dripping with condescension. “You make a big deal out of nothing, and it’s like… people walk on eggshells around you. Life doesn’t work like that.”

Liam glanced at his girlfriend, who sat rigidly beside him. Her eyes were fixed on her lap, her fingers twisting anxiously around the hem of her shirt. He could see the tension in her shoulders, the way she was trying to shrink into herself, and it made his blood boil.

“Enough,” Liam said, his voice firm and steady.

Her father raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

“I said enough,” Liam repeated, standing. “This isn’t okay. And it hasn’t been okay for a long time.”

Her father leaned forward, clearly affronted. “Listen, young man—”

“No, you listen,” Liam cut him off, his tone sharp but controlled. “I’ve sat here all night listening to you talk down to her, dismiss her feelings, and act like her autism is some kind of inconvenience for you. And I’m done with it.”

Her father blinked, clearly unused to being challenged. “I’m not being dismissive. I’m just saying she makes things harder than they need to be. Back in my day, people didn’t have all these labels. We just got on with life.”

Liam let out a short, humorless laugh. “Right. And how’s that working out for you? Ignoring reality doesn’t make it go away. It just makes you blind to it. Autism isn’t a ‘label.’ It’s part of who she is. And what you call ‘making things harder’ is just her trying to exist in a world that wasn’t built for people like her.”

“She’s fine,” her father said dismissively. “She just needs to toughen up.”

Liam’s voice rose, his frustration spilling out. “She’s already tougher than you’ll ever understand! Do you have any idea how much courage it takes for her to face people like you every day? To advocate for herself when people constantly dismiss her? You’re supposed to be her family. You’re supposed to support her. And instead, you make her feel small.”

“Liam…” his girlfriend murmured, tugging at his arm. Her voice was quiet, but there was a waver in it that broke his heart.

He turned to her, his expression softening. “No, you don’t deserve this,” he said gently but firmly. “You’ve been putting up with this for too long, and it’s not fair to you.”

Her father threw up his hands. “Oh, come on. I’m her father. I know her better than you do. She’s just being dramatic.”

Liam’s jaw tightened, and he turned back to the older man. “You don’t know her better than she knows herself. And if you think this is ‘dramatic,’ then you haven’t been paying attention. She’s told you what she needs. She’s told you how to support her. And every time, you’ve ignored it. Do you have any idea how much that hurts her? How much that undermines her?”

Her father opened his mouth, but Liam didn’t let him speak. “You think you’re the authority on her life because you’re her dad? You’re not. She is. And it’s about time you started listening to her instead of dismissing everything she says. Because if you keep this up, you’re going to lose her.”

The words hit like a hammer, and her father’s bravado faltered. For a moment, he looked genuinely unsure of himself.

“She’s not asking for anything unreasonable,” Liam continued, his voice quieter now but still firm. “She just wants to be understood. Respected. Loved for who she is, not who you think she should be. That’s not coddling. That’s what family is supposed to do.”

The silence in the room was heavy, broken only by the sound of his girlfriend taking a shaky breath. She looked up at Liam, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Thank you,” she whispered.

Liam turned back to her father, his tone softening just slightly. “You still have a chance to fix this. But it starts with you admitting that you’ve been wrong. And it starts with you trying. Really trying.”

Her father looked down at his hands, clearly uncomfortable. For the first time that evening, he seemed to be grappling with Liam’s words.

Liam reached for his girlfriend’s hand, intertwining his fingers with hers. “You’re not alone in this,” he said to her softly, his voice filled with quiet determination. “Not anymore.”

[seramilla]

(Have fun with Carmilla’s response!)

Lute fidgets with the mane feathers that had grown from her neck. She stayed in her room thinking about what Emily said with a scowl for weeks.

“Forgive myself…what a joke…why should I forgive myself?…”

The end of her hair brushes across her shoulders as she sits up. She throws the covers off and glares hatefully at her digitigrade. She isn’t even sure when they changed but she stopped caring. It’s just one more thing to add to the pile of things she hates about herself. She hops off the bed and immediately regrets her decision unused to her new legs. Lute loses her balance in an instant and snarls at herself for being so pathetic. She forces herself to get up and uses a bedpost to get used to her new balance. A few steps around the room and she’s as good as new…in a manner of speaking. Lute has always been highly adaptable to survive no matter what, sadly enough. The familiar faint sounds of steel clashing reaches her ears. She perks up at the prospect of a training room. Lute cracks her door open and peeks out finding an empty hallway. She silently slips out and closes the door behind her then follows the sounds to their source only to find the overlord and…and Vaggie. Lute slinks into the room unseen and stays out of sight.

She watches them from the shadows on the balcony, eye glowing like a creature at night. She’s never seen Vaggie look so happy since…well since ever. She can admit to herself that she’s jealous of how much happier Vaggie is down her despite what she had done to her. She can adm-

A familiar spear pierces the column beside her head making her freeze.

“Vaggie! I’ve told you n-”

“Someone else is in here *watching* us!”

Carmilla raises a brow and looks as Vaggie leaps up letting her wings out and flies to her spear.

She recognizes the shape hidden in shadows and stares in surprise. She hadn’t once expected to see the beast out and exploring her home.

Lute panics seeing Vaggie closing the distance AND Carmilla spotting her and scrabbles away on all fours sticking to the shadows. How humiliating and fitting for her. She’s been reduced to nothing more than a lowly animal in her reactions. She slows a bit thinking to herself that maybe it’ll be over with if she lets Vaggie catch her.

Lute peers over her shoulder only to yelp as her cheek is cut and seconds later gets tackled to the ground. She instinctively hides her face behind her disproportionate arm and whimpers.

Vaggie sneers at the demon spying on her and her ma-mentor.

“Who are you, what do you want!?! Stop hiding your face and talk!!”

Lute flinches at the tone and softly whimpers out a quiet apology.

“Speak up! And show me your face!!”

Lute slowly lowers her arm unable to meet Vaggie’s eyes.

“…i’m sorry, for everything i have ever done to you…”

She forces herself to lock their gaze.

“…I’m so sorry for forcing those extra drills on you, for forcing those errands on you…”

She swallows hard.

“…I’m sorry for cutting out your eye…and tearing off your wings…I’m sorry for killing your dragon friend…for-”

Vaggie’s laughter makes her freeze.

“I’m sure you are ‘sorry’…Lute.”

She flinches at the disgusted tone used on her name followed up by a scoff.

“You’re just sorry for what you’ve become and probably think apologizing will fix this. Well it doesn’t matter because I’m NOT going to forgive you. Heaven CLEARLY knows you don’t deserve forgiveness since you’re down here now. Oooh how the mighty have fallen.”

Lute stays quiet looking up at her.

“Nothing to say?”

Lute struggles to find the words making Vaggie scoff.

“That’s what I thought.”

Vaggie grabs her spear and turns to leave when Lute grabs her. She turns to yell at her to let go but the words die in her throat at the sight of an empty eye socket mirroring her own.

“I AM sorry Vaggie…I DO mean it…I don’t want or need you to forgive me. I NEED you to know I am SORRY…”

Maybe it the desperation in her voice or the pained self loathing in Lute’s remaining eye but she relents and nods.

Lute lets go of her just as Carmilla arrives and a new wave of panic fills her soul. She could tell what kind of bond these two had. A mentor and apprentice…as well as a mother and daughter. She wasn’t stupid, it was like how Adam had been like her older brother…not that it mattered anymore he was gone…everything she had was gone. She scampered away before the Overlord could say anything, retracing her path back to her delegated room. She closes the door and hides beneath the bed hoping the overlord will leave her alone, that Vaggie won’t explain what that was about. The mane of feathers on her neck stands on end as the door slams open dashing her hopes. The woman is pissed…but who hasn’t been with her lately? The feathers flatten accepting her fate as the bed is flung away. Her hollow gaze looks up meeting furious red orbs.

“You better start explaining yourself you pequeña perra vil, or I will send you to Lucifer personally.”

“I…I’m sorry I-“

“What I mean is-“

“It’s because-“

She tries over and over again and again but chokes up every time. How can she began to explain it to CARMILLA FUCKING CARMINE, the former angel that fell protecting the identity of her lover that happened to be the EX HIGH SERAPHIM SERA? She knows she’s pissed at her. Who isn’t? She’s hated herself for so long for her preferences, believing she was fucked up and WRONG for just liking girls. She remembers the first time she told Adam and how he slapped her. She never brought it up again. She buried EVERYTHING deep down inside and hated it, hated that part of herself because her mentor the person she thought she could trust told her she was wrong and disgusting for it. Lute tries to explain all of it but it hurts too much and cuts so deeply into a VERY old and forgotten wound that has been festering inside her far too long. She keeps trying to tell her wanting to tell SOMEONE…but she keeps choking up and gagging on the words she was trained to hate and revile.

Carmilla stares at the broken beast looking up at her desperately trying to explain itself to her.

Lute pounds her fists against the floor furious she can’t speak her own truth. So she starts small.

“…i hate myself…”

Carmilla rolls her eyes at the obvious but freezes as the creature continues.

“…i have for so long…i’ve hated what i am for so long now i don’t think i could ever see myself as anything ELSE than how i look now…”

Carmilla’s breath hitches in her throat. This reminds her of the way Sera sounded when she spoke of how guilty she felt about their love they had for each other.

“…I remember the first time I shared my…my preference…with my mentor…I thought I could trust him…”

The overlord’s heart sinks.

“But then he was yelling at me…screaming that I was wrong. Adam slapped me over and over again until I rejected what I am. So there must’ve been something wrong with me. I’m a mistake…then I thought…maybe if I am really good and do exactly what I was made for it’ll fix itself.”

The broken black and gold eye looks at her desperately wanting to be seen and heard for once.

“It didn’t so I tried harder and harder…then Vaggie joined the ranks. We were close once friends, sisters…I think I wanted to be more but I couldn’t because that would be WRONG. I was jealous of the praise she got. Adam praised her so much…it’s not fair.”

Lute grits her fangs.

“I denied liking her like that and SHE got praised for being herself. I was so mad at her and myself. So when I caught her sparing that sinner, something broke. How does that SINNER get mercy when I DON’T? I saw red and lashed out. I-”

Carmilla watches her grab the feathers on her twisted arm and tug.

“It’s all I’ve known…but I’m so tired…so tired of it all…pain makes it numb for a bit. Emily says I need to forgive myself but I’m just a mistake. Mistakes don’t deserve forgiveness. That’s what I was told. I can’t forgive myself.”

Lute looks up at Carmilla feeling so raw and so exposed, wanting…she’s not even entirely sure what she wants anymore but she knows she doesn’t want to hurt anymore. Tears blur her already ruined vision as she looks at the floor and starts to wail. She’s exhausted from countless years of feeling so angry and hating herself. Lute is certain she can’t have what everyone around her has. Maybe that’s what she wants? Probably but no one would ever want something like h-

She flinches away feeling a large hand between her wings and gently rubs her back. Then looks up at Carmilla deeply confused as tears stream down her face.

Where Carmilla had seemed about to tear her a new asshole when she came into the room a moment prior, Lute flinches under the fallen angel's touch, and drops face-first onto the floor in a prone position. She has never felt lower than she does now, so her position on the ground should mirror that. She's fully prepared for the overlord to slap her, punch her, strangle her, or do any number of horrible, painful things to her body. It would be exactly as Lute deserves, and couldn't possibly be worse than anything she's faced thus far down here.

Except it is...so much worse. Carmilla kneels over her, still looking so much taller and larger-than-life, simply leaning down on her knees above Lute. The hand between her wings doesn't move to inflict pain or serve justice; Carmilla's large claws just...lie flat on her back for a moment. Even through the fluff around her neck, Lute can feel all the distilled power flooding through Carmilla's body, waiting to be let loose at any given moment. An angel of Carmilla's former status always has that air about her. Even if she weren't lying prostrate on the floor, Lute knows not to make any threatening movements in her presence, if she values her head.

Which she doesn't, but that old training and instinct of hers still wants to keep her alive, despite everything. She knows even less of what to make of Carmilla when that hand actually starts to move, stroking Lute's back in a comforting motion, ruffling the feathers like one might the hair of a child.

Wait, is Carmilla Carmine trying to COMFORT her???

"One thing about being in Hell..." Carmilla begins, intentionally stroking the feathers at the top of the wings on Lute's back, "...is that mercy and forgiveness are the rarest commodities down here. There aren't enough souls you could possibly pay for that. Emily has all but offered it to you on a silver platter. The only thing you'd have to do is reach out and take it. Oh, if we were all so lucky."

Lute sniffles some more, and hides her face in the floor so Carmilla can't see her crying. Carmilla continues to stroke the wings on her back and the feathers around her neck. Lute might think she's doing it to mock or taunt her, but there isn't an ounce of mirth in the overlord's voice. Not like when she'd barged in a moment before.

"Yeah, on the condition that I forgive myself first!" Lute explains, just running through her head again how ridiculous that sounds. "It's not just Emily I've wronged. Her, Sera, Vaggie, and even you! It's not my place to forgive myself of that! And it's not her place to say that's all I'd need to do!"

"Yes, you're right," Carmilla hums, looking off into the middle distance, staring at the wall above the tossed-over bed, pondering Lute's statement. "Each person you've wronged will have to set the conditions for how you can make it up to them. That's how apologies work."

"I don't deserve forgiveness, anyway. I don't want it."

"So you're just going to give up?" Carmilla asks. "Stay in this room until you starve to death?"

"Why not?"

"Because we both know you're better than that," Carmilla states bluntly, halting her rubbing of Lute's feathers long enough to lift the girl's chin to look at her. She holds Lute's chin firmly in her grasp, forcing her to look at her.

"That your body went through such a drastic change is proof positive that you have much to atone for. You're capable. You wouldn't be here if that weren't the case. Satan knows I went through the same when I was thrown down here. I may never get my wings or halo back, but honestly, at this point, I don't care. I kept fighting. It's all I knew before, and it's all I've ever done. I never gave up. "

Tears stream down Lute's face again, and with Carmilla holding her chin firmly in place, she can't hide them anymore. "What if I'm done fighting? Fighting, and competing, and trying to be better than everyone else...look where it got me."

"That's your choice. But wallowing here in your own filth won't be much of a life. And I simply won't condone it. I'm not going to let you self-immolate under my roof, upsetting Emily, and reversing all the growth and progress that Vaggie's made. I will not sit back and let you sabotage that for them."

"Fine, then I'll get out of your fucking hair! I didn't want to be here, anyway!" Lute yells. She turns around, until she's got her back and the bulk of her wings facing Carmilla, and curls in on herself upon the floor. She starts sniffling more into the sanctuary of her knees, drawing them closer to her body, and feeling sorry for herself again, trying to give Carmilla the hint that she wants the overlord to leave her alone.

"Just go away. Please," Lute whimpers, wrapping her wings around herself, as if that will let her hide. "Just let me die."

Lute probably wishes she hadn't said that to Carmilla so quickly, because suddenly, that clawed hand that had been so gentle with her before suddenly grabs her by the scruff of the neck, pulling, and lifting her off the floor. Lute screeches and kicks, tail thrashing this way and that as Carmilla mercilessly drags her out the bedroom door by her thick neckline of feathers. She scrambles, but Carmilla holds fast. There's no way she can escape, being as weak as she is.

No! Lute screams in her own head, unable to speak due to shock. No, I didn't mean it! Please! Please don't throw me out! Don't throw me away! Emily...Vaggie...please, I need to--!

The wind is temporarily knocked out of Lute as Carmilla tosses her on the ground, and the bestial angel yelps as she lands on her tattered wings, which are still sore and inflamed from where she'd been extracting feathers before. A bright light is blinding her from above, and she whimpers before turning over, covering her face with her claws.

"Oowww..." Lute seethes between her teeth, rubbing the sore back of her neck where Carmilla had grabbed her. "Fuck!"

It's happened. Carmilla has thrown her out, leaving her to the bright, blinding light of the Hellish sun. Lute starts to cry again, trembling all over at the implications of what she's just done...now that she's all alone...

"Lute? Carmilla, what's going on? Why is she out here?"

Vaggie!

Lute's eye shoots open. It's still difficult for her to see anything, what with being thrown out of that dark, dank room and into the light so suddenly, but that voice is unmistakably Vaggie's. She doesn't sound too pleased to see Lute again.

Lute's eye struggles to adjust to everything around her. She realizes she's not outside, but actually under the blinding bulbs of the training room she'd spotted Carmilla and Vaggie sparring in earlier. From this angle, all the lights look like miniature suns. They are painful, too harsh on her new demon eye. She turns over to try and get up, and collapses again, whimpering. She's still not used to her own feet.

"It seems this one wants to die," Carmilla says matter-of-factly, standing there behind Lute with her arms crossed, clearly unamused. "Seems rather adamant about it, in fact. Since it appears you two have a score to settle, I thought I'd let you do the honors."

"WHAT?!" Lute and Vaggie screech at the same time. Lute swings her head around to look at Vaggie, with her hair tied up in a rather elaborate ponytail, wearing the same battle outfit that Odette and Clara always used when salvaging her and Adam's weapons.

Satan, the two of them really have changed, haven't they? Lute thinks. But the trajectory of that change could not be more different.

"Carmilla, I already told you!" Vaggie insists, looking at Carmilla with something resembling anger and frustration. "I didn't kill her during the battle, and I'm not going to do it now! Death is too good for her!"

"And why is that?" Carmilla asks, still looking like she couldn't give a damn.

"Because...she's hurt so many people! Hurt Charlie! I'll never forgive her for that! She needs to suffer for it!"

"And how much suffering is enough?" Carmilla continues. "When her body is no longer recognizable? When she's let herself starve to death, or is killed out on the street? How much more pain and atonement is necessary before it makes things right?"

Vaggie looks down at the pathetic jumble of feathers slumped on the floor in front of her. She holds her spear at her side, fist clenched tightly around it, as if she wants to shove it directly through Lute's still-beating heart. Lute doesn't think she'll ever get used to Vaggie's eye looking at her that way. She had cared for that eye's owner, once upon a time...and then she'd ruined everything, for her own selfish means.

But then Lute is surprised when Vaggie's eye softens. For whatever reason, the other former Exorcist's entire tone shifts when she looks back up at Carmilla, and sighs heavily.

"It won't," Vaggie says finally, throwing her spear onto the hard floor of the training room with a clang. "Nothing will. It won't bring back the people we killed, Sir Pentious, Dazzle...it won't make our bodies the way they were before. Violence just begets more violence."

"So what will you do, then, mija?" Carmilla asks. It is not lost on Lute how softly and affectionately Carmilla asks that question of Vaggie. How much love and understanding she provides for this angel, one who is not of her blood; not even her own daughter. But whom she's taken to claim as her own, just the same.

Vaggie smirks. Not in the hate-filled, disbelieving way she had before. It's more mischievous and playful, like when she and Lute had been about to spar or go out on the battlefield together.

"I guess I'll have to beat the will to live back into her, like you did for me," Vaggie chortles. Carmilla smiles. "Come on, Lute...let's see if you still got it in ya."

Fucking Satan, Lute thinks, what in the fucking Hell does Vaggie have in store for her, now?

[catsharky]

Wanted to post these separate from my Art Fight post because I spent too long on these references (really just Fallstreak's tbh) to keep them hidden away on the AF site. Also cause I love these guys and I haven't really talked about them much on here.

So for anyone who was curious about the previous art I posted of these OCs, have some actual information about them!

Nell

Full name Abnell Roache (will also accept 'Nella', but loathes being called 'Nelly'). A health and safety inspector for an interstellar cargo company, Nell becomes stranded on an ocean planet when the ship she's auditing- the ACS Endurance- experiences a catastrophic engine failure and tears itself in two.

Adrift on an endless alien sea with no guarantee of rescue and little emergency food, she has to survive with the help of Bas: an (illegal) AI inhabiting the chassis of her life pod's survival assistant. With her only goals being survival and finding any other survivors, she's unprepared to find herself making humanity's first contact with another sapient species; an alien biologist named Fallstreak who has also found himself trapped on the planet. 

She's thrilled to learn about Fallstreak and his people, as well as teach him as much as she can about humanity, and if she has an immediate, massively obvious crush on the tall faceless alien? Well, the only other person there to complain is Bas. Which he does. A lot.

Bas (Pronounced 'Baz')

An illegal AI inhabiting the chassis of a life pod survival assistant (though to clarify, in this universe all true AI are illegal because they require a human brain scan to be made and that's a legal rights nightmare). After years of only knowing his 'father', Richter (the engineer aboard the Endurance who purchased and programmed him), he boots up to find his home destroyed, his father dead, and himself in the company of a total stranger; Nell. 

He has a lot to deal with: keeping Nell alive, figuring out how to interact with someone other than Richter while also mourning his death, and acting as a middle-man/interpreter between Nell (who he has rapidly developed what seem to be romantic feelings towards) and Fallstreak (an alien biologist who's captured Nell's interest without even knowing what he has). 

And to top it all off? He has a text-to-speech Australian accent.

Fallstreak

An alien biologist with a bio-mechanical body, named after the cloud formation (look up 'Fallstreak holes', they're neat!) that most closely resembled an event that occurred on the day of his birth.

Extremely curious and wants to learn everything about his two new companions, as well as share his knowledge with them. Verbal language is all but entirely unused by his species, however, so the language barrier between Fallstreak and Nell+Bas is a large one. Thanks to Bas' assistance, he's able to understand spoken communication fairly well, and speaks (in very broken sentence structure) by vibrating the membranes in his gill openings, resulting in a voice that sounds somewhat like early English vocaloids; understandable but clearly not a natural voice.

Living a fairly solitary life isn't uncommon for his species, and he hasn't had the opportunity to experience romantic interest before, so when he meets Nell and begins to fall for her, he's more than a little confused (oblivious) about what his emotions are doing. Unfortunately draws some jealous ire from Bas as a result, but is pretty oblivious to the AI's attempted rivalry. 

--

All three of these guys are from a WIP comic called The Rive that I hope to finish some day. I have most of the story figured out, and quite a bit of it scripted and ready to go, I just need to actually draw the damn thing.

[beatricebidelaire]

She thought she was holding it together.

After all, she sort of expected this. She hoped she was wrong, hoped that things won't come to this stage, hoped that he wouldn't make choices that led to this, but deep down, she always suspected that this was - not exactly inevitable, but definitely not unexpected.

Sure, he has always been volatile in some way. Dangerous. But people say that about her, too. The chaotic twins, sometimes they call them, even though they aren't actually siblings and they actually look nothing alike. Still, he's the closest thing to a brother that she's ever had. Even now, after all that he's done.

The vileness of some of the crimes stuns even her, even if she thinks his betrayal is not that surprising.

Then again, she did kill his parents first. For a mission. She understands the reasoning behind the assignment, knows where it's coming from. The Count was becoming too dangerous. Sometimes she wonders if she's still allowed to judge O for what she's been hearing about him after what she's done, and yet -

She does, at least for some of those. Hypocritical as it might be, but she does. The unnecessary cruelness - was it always there?

It had been, brimming underneath, and she thinks she's always known that. She also thinks he would say that she's equally cruel - but she isn't, she's ruthless in some regards, maybe, but that's different. That's just steeliness. Efficiency. Capable of getting things done. But she knows he would just laugh at her. His eyes mocking and knowing. "We're cut from the same cloth, B," he would say.

She loved him like a brother.

Not anymore, but the bond is still there. Always there.

She hates him and misses him and still remembers their childhoods, the lawn of his backyard, their apprenticeships, the forest, their theater years, their everything. Ever so clearly. Her partner in crime, except now he's committing worse and worse crimes that she didn't realize he was capable of.

Beatrice is holding it together, at least on the surface. She has to. They're all worried about her, the one who'd known him the longest, the one closest to him. The one who fired the dart.

Beneath the well-kept together surface, she feels like she's falling apart.

She doesn't miss him, she just misses who he was, who she was, their childhoods, the more innocent years. But she can't let anyone see this. She has to be brave, to be strong, to be a volunteer.

She is absolutely keeping it together, which is why she's lying on the sofa of a locked room alone, hiding away, because that's what keeping it together means - that no one sees this side of her. If the light is not switched on, that's simply because it's cooler this way. Makes her feel like she's in some movie. This, she thinks, is cinema. (She is very clever.)

Then the sound of keys turning in the lock interrupts her misery, and the door swings open because some hotel managers are absolutely rude and will take it upon himself to check the supposedly locked and unused rooms that Beatrice has decided to hide in without informing anyone.

"Beatrice," Frank says.

"This is - method acting." She says, immediately, sitting up.

He turns on the lights. She hopes she doesn't look absolutely wrecked, or if she does, she hopes she looks like she's acting, that it's all just a performance.

He sighs. "It will ..... hurt less, eventually." He pauses. "At least, if you keep yourself busy."

Frank, in contrast with Beatrice, actually does have a brother who switched sides, Beatrice knows. Suddenly, the pretenses don't seem so important. At least, temporarily, she can allow the mask to fall.

"Explains why you're a workaholic," she mutters.

He rolls his eyes, just a little. Then he sits down beside her, and after a moment, she lets herself fall onto his lap unceremoniously, burying her face against the sofa. "Frank," she says, quietly. "How do you deal with this?"

"As I said, work."

"That's so you."

"I know," he sighs.

They're quiet for a few moments, and he adds. "J keeps a few bottles of brandy at my office. I'm sure he wouldn't mind if we opened one."

[thebiggerbear]

Only Ever Holding Onto You - Three - Same Old Shit

A/N: Personally, this is one of my favorites so far because I love Poppernak dearly but also I wanted to delve into the reader a bit more. This is unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine.

Warnings: a ton of shit (literally)

Word Count: 7114

Series Masterlist

Series Taglist: @deans-spinster-witch; @rieleatiel

You cursed quietly when you stepped in dog shit yet again. You took a deep breath to center yourself, knowing there was nothing you could do and that you would have a good hour or two of cleaning every single tread on the sole of your shoes when you got home to make sure all of the fecal matter was gone. For now, grass and a piece of cardboard that Poppernak hopefully had in the back of his car that could double as a floor mat would have to do. You opened your eyes and surged forward…right into another pile of dogshit.

“Motherfuck,” you hissed as you felt the familiar squishy feeling under your foot and the smell predictably wafted up to assault your nose. This place was a goddamn minefield!

You should have known, seeing the state the house was in as well as the makeshift garage. Not to mention the elderly age of the owners and the large lawn mower that clearly sat unused if the yards of rust covering it was anything to go by. This land hadn’t been worked in a long time; how could you expect that they would clean up dogshit where it remained hidden by grass that was long enough to wave with each passing breeze? Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Pops very carefully moving forward on his chosen pathway, obsessively checking the ground before he took a step. It just hit you that there could even be snakes in here and you could be walking through their damn living room. Son of a bitch.

“Hey Pepper Snaps, be careful! There could be snakes,” you called.

“I wasn’t thinking about that but now I am. Thanks, Y/N.”

You may have rolled your eyes and hoped he stepped in the next pile of dogshit instead of you. 

“Did you find Goldie yet?” An old man shouted from behind you.

You turned around to see Lee Knutson, a man in his eighties, watching you from his porch along with his wife Marilyn, also in her eighties. Both of them owned this property and they had placed a call to the police reporting their dog Goldie as missing. They were frantic and because Helena PD loved to pass calls like this onto your department from time to time, here you were, looking for a dog in a place that could double as Jumanji to appease an old couple who loved their dog more than life itself. Hoyt had passed the call onto you with a smirk, saying “You’re an animal lover, right, Y/L/N? Why don’t you and Pop take this one?” Based on her passive aggressive comment, you knew she was still holding a grudge about your calling the Feds in on the Avuna Pharmaceutical case. You knew she had it in for you before that but now, you knew she was doing everything she could to make your life even more of a living hell as punishment. Especially when Beau publicly backed your play; that just made her burn even more. 

Having no choice other than to send Pops alone, you found yourself entering the previously uncharted wild jungle of Helena, Montana, with him right behind you. You both were wading through shit and a yard that looked like it could double as an apocalyptic landscape because you’d had the audacity to try to do the right thing in a case where all parties were concerned. Something that from what you’d heard, Hoyt would have most likely done herself back in the day. You knew deep down though that her fury at you had more to do with Beau refusing to bust your ass than the Feds getting involved. You had decided that you would let it continue to be her problem and just do your job, like always. But damn if you had imagined it would get this bad. You supposed you should be grateful she hadn’t sent you and Pops into a dangerous situation where you might not escape unscathed, like exchanging fire with a perp, though the smell that smacked you in the face when you turned to face the old man had you almost wishing she had. You’d take anything else anyday over this crap.

“Not yet,” you yelled back. “But don’t worry, Mr. Knutson, we’re still looking!” You hoped you sounded more hopeful than you felt. 

It really had been a shitty week, pun fucking intended. 

The morning after the very weird night you’d had at The Boot Heel, Beau wasn’t in the office. Madge told you he had simply called out, claiming that he was taking a few vacation days, and that he knew the department had things handled. You thanked the woman and frowned at Beau’s closed door as you passed. 

You had texted Beau the night before when you arrived home as he had asked you to, and he wished you a good night, letting you know he was safely home as well (he knew you too well). That had been the last time you heard from him which wouldn’t be that strange if he had shown up for work. You forced your worry back down and told yourself you were fretting over nothing, this spike in nerves you had was just a remnant from the previous evening. Your compass was most likely still recalibrating. Beau was fine, everyone and everything was fine, he had a right to take his well-earned vacation time especially since he never really took a day off — you were overreacting. But just to be safe, you texted Emily to check in. She got back to you within a few minutes, letting you know that she and her mom had a full day planned since they now had time to start painting their new home that they had moved into a few months back. 

Carla had been ready to leave Montana after Avery’s death and Emily’s abduction scare but Beau thankfully had talked her into staying, for Emily’s sake, for his sake — all of their sakes. As soon as Carla sold the property she had shared with Avery, Beau helped her and their daughter move into a new home in a closer neighborhood that she was able to get a good deal on. You knew Beau had been relieved when Carla agreed to stay and you had as well, for him and for you. There was no way you wouldn’t try to follow him back down to Houston if he had gone, especially not when Hoyt might take his place where she could make your life miserable full-time and on the county’s dime. Just like she was already doing this week.

Emily promised to send you pictures of the finished product and you wished her luck, telling her to call you if they needed a hand once your shift was over. Em and Carla were fine; that just left Beau.

Before you could type up a text to check in with him, a quick meeting assembled that you had no idea had even been planned. Hoyt took charge and completely dismissed you, laying down the law for the next few days. She would be distributing calls and deciding who to dispatch. Which you found awful funny because that was bound to create issues with the system Beau already had in place. Madge looked slightly put out until Hoyt wrapped an arm around her shoulders and told her she would need the older woman’s help. You watched the entire scene unfold, arms crossed and leaning against the doorway, smirking and enjoying the show. It didn’t surprise you in the least when she approached you and Pops last with your assignments for the morning, a triumphant grin on her face.

“A couple of calls came in late last night that I’d like you two to follow up on.” She handed the sheet of paper to Pops who took it and scanned it quickly. “You don’t mind, do you, Y/L/N?” 

Your smirk widened. She was clearly challenging you, practically daring you to say something. Beau had made it plain to her and the department often enough that you and Hoyt were equal in his eyes. Neither of you had authority over the other one. He told you later when it was just the two of you that he had done that out of respect for your career and experience thus far but also to give you a leg to stand on when it came to Hoyt. He understood that she worked hard in her position as undersheriff and he wasn’t trying to take that from her but he wanted you in the department working with him and he wasn’t going to demote you to make that happen. You were more than appreciative of his willingness to not only take you on and keep you with him but also to make sure you didn’t go backwards in pay or in your career. You found out later he had even taken a slight pay cut himself when he brought you on board, which you duly chastised him for later, not wanting him to sacrifice anymore than he already had. The response he gave you was a simple wink and his usual boyish smile. 

So Hoyt and the department knew where you stood, something the blonde was testing right now because Beau wasn’t here. The department didn’t give a crap if she took advantage and lorded it over you as long as it wasn’t them, and she expected you to either fold or go running to tell Beau or something along those lines. She clearly didn’t know you at all if she expected any type of reaction she was trying to get out of you. Your grin matched hers. “Not at all.”

Her blue eyes narrowed but then you could see the triumph in her smile, thinking she had won some imaginary victory over you. “Great.” You pushed the urge to roll your eyes deep down, knowing that if anything happened with the department over the next few days, the responsibility was on her alone, officially. Unofficially, you’d keep an eye out during Beau’s absence and not let everything turn to complete shit.

Your smile grew so much that your cheeks started to hurt.

Hoyt began to say something else but before she could get a word out, your phone started ringing. You pulled it out of your pocket and the name on the screen sent your heart into overdrive. “Excuse me. I have to take this.” You didn’t wait for Hoyt to respond or Pops, but one quick glance confirmed she had seen the screen as well. The glare she was currently gracing you with was the glare to end all glares. You ignored it and stepped away as planned, hearing her snap at Pops to make sure you didn’t stay on the phone too long and to get out the door, before storming away.

This time, you did roll your eyes, and you picked up the call.

“Beau?”

“Mornin’.” He sounded okay though his voice seemed a little more gravelly than usual. You attributed it to the early hour. 

“Morning. You okay?”

He cleared his throat. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Just taking a few days.”

“Long overdue,” you agreed.

“Yeah,” he sighed. 

You glanced around and lowered your voice. “You really are okay, though? You’d tell me if something was wrong… Right? Like you coughing twice or asking me to take the pineapple slices off the pizza to indicate you’re being held against your will.”

He let out a laugh and that made you feel lighter than you had a moment ago. “I’m good, Y/N, I promise. Pineapple on pizza? How in the hell is that a pizza topping? I still don’t get it.”

“You would if you would ever try it when I order it.”

“I will never eat that crap. Who puts fruit on pizza anyway? Besides you?”

“A lot of the population in fact. That’s why it’s so popular,” you teased him.

“I’ve lost all hope for society.”

You finished taking a sip of your coffee. “Really? You’ve been working this job now for two decades and a yellow and very delicious fruit put on pizza is what finally did it for you?”

“Fruit doesn’t go on pizza, Y/N. I’m not having this debate with you again. Not this early,” he groaned.

“The trick is to get it without the sauce. That’s how I order it. It’s only weird tasting when the sauce is added into the mix.”

“If there’s no sauce, then how is it pizza?”

You snorted. “Pizza is all about the cheese.”

“And the sauce. Without sauce, it’s just bread and cheese.”

“Which incidentally are two of the most important ingredients for pizza.”

You smiled in victory when an exasperated sigh came down the line. “Okay, you win. So how do I get out of this conversation that’s happening against my will? Do I sneeze twice or ask for extra cheese?”

“Ha ha. You called me, remember that.” In your peripherals, you noticed Pops signaling to you and pointing to his watch. You nodded and held a finger up. Yes, you knew Hoyt couldn’t wait for you to go out on your crappy call list for the morning, and add more to it during the day most likely. Her pettiness could wait a few more minutes. Guaranteed, this was going to be the best part of your day and you weren’t giving it up that easily. “So, what are your plans for today? Have any or are you just taking it easy for the day?” 

“Actually, I’m gonna head over to Carla’s and help her and Em out for the day.”

A small smile settled onto your face. “Em will be really happy to see you.” And both she and Carla would be happy to have the extra practiced hand no doubt. You almost wished you could join them, to help Emily prank her father by rolling paint all over his clothes if for nothing else.

“Yeah, it’ll be good to see her, too. I didn’t get much sleep last night so I spent a lot of time thinking. About work, about life and…everything, and that’s why I took a few days off. I’m gonna try to convince Em to go camping with me over the weekend. I want to spend some time with my daughter before she graduates and goes off to college.”

“Don’t worry. You’ve got some time before that happens,” you murmured soothingly. You knew this was something he worried about, he’d told you often enough. He felt like he was losing time with Emily, that the window he had was closing more and more with each passing day. That feeling only ramped up after Em had been taken hostage. You couldn’t blame him; for the first few months after, you’d hugged Emily a little longer and a little tighter whenever you saw her, something she endlessly rolled her eyes at but kindly allowed you to do each time.

“Not much.”

You bit your lip, choosing to ignore Pops who appeared in front of you, frantically gesturing behind him. Rolling your eyes, you turned to the side, lowering your voice further. “I think it’s a great idea. I’m glad you’re doing this, taking some time for yourself and to spend with Em. To hell with everyone and everything else these next few days, you hear me?”

“Yes ma’am,” he chuckled.

“And if anyone calls you from the department, I will personally run over their cell phone with my car. Twice.”

“About that…”

“Beau,” you growled in warning, walking away from Pops who was dogging your every step.

“That’s why I’m calling you. I’m not taking any calls from work for the next few days, especially if I get Em to go camping with me. I don’t want any interruptions and I trust that you and Hoyt will have a handle on things while I’m gone.”

You pressed your lips together, hating to lie to your best friend, but it was important for him to take this time. He never willingly took time off and you knew he needed this time with Em, even before he said anything. And for him to have come to this decision so suddenly, you knew he meant it. There was never a single second that Beau hadn’t made himself accessible, day or night, for anyone in the department. So for him to go radio silent intentionally for any period of time, he meant business. “Understood,” you agreed.

“But, Y/N, saying that…I do want you to call me if anything pops up that you think I should know about.”

And there it was, the caveat. “I’m not calling you, Arlen. Like you said, we’ve got this.”

“I mean it. I’m only available to you, Y/N, no one else. I trust your judgment and I know you’ll filter out most of the white noise. But also, if you need anything…you call me.”

“I appreciate that but we’ll be okay,” you reassured, quickly stepping into an empty interrogation room and shutting the door on Pops. You managed to wedge a chair underneath the knob before he could try it, smirking in satisfaction when the door failed to give way and he started knocking instead while calling your name. “And listen, I don’t want to intrude on family time but if you do need a hand with the painting, I can always drop by later, repaint everything you did, take my pineapple pizza I’ll definitely be ordering for a job well done, and go.”

“Hey! I know how to paint!”

“Yeah, you also told me you knew how to cook, too.”

“I can grill,” Beau snapped.

You heard the chair beginning to budge and you pressed all of your weight against the door, trying to prevent Pops from opening it. “Uh huh. I think the charred left corner of your deck would beg to differ.”

“Wow. That was one time and everybody was okay. When are you gonna let that go?”

“Whenever you allow me to call in some hot Helena firefighters next time to put out the fire and let me watch rather than making me extinguish the flames myself with a fire extinguisher I luckily had in my car that day. I was cheated out of muscles and sweat and big, big fire hoses that get everything wet….all that water pressure—”

“Ah, ah, alright, alright. Stop. Bad images in my head. Never coming out now thanks to you.”

You couldn’t help but snicker. “You deserve it. Now, seriously, go enjoy your time with your daughter and leave the department to us. If you need help later or if you just need anything, give me a call.” Pops was pushing against you and you were ashamed to admit you were losing the battle. Your feet were sliding against the floor as the door struggled to open, the chair having been lost some moments ago.

“Thanks. I guess I’ll let you go so you can get to work. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Okay,” you struggled to get out. “Have fun. Give Em a hug from me.”

“Copy that. And Y/N?”

Pops finally pushed into the room and you had no choice but to abandon your post or be flat up against the wall. “Yeah?”

“Be careful out there.”

Pops was hunched over catching his breath, glaring up at you and pointing to his watch, mouthing “Hoyt”. You smiled sweetly down at him. “You know me. Always am.”

You hadn’t heard from Beau later that day but it was just as well. You had had the day from hell just as you’d expected. You settled down on your couch in the comfiest clothes you could find and binged Real Housewives of Dallas. You normally couldn’t stand these types of reality shows, but this one had grown on you and always provided the perfect distraction. That and Floribama Shore. Beau had been present for at least the first two episodes of the latter to which he stared over at you in disbelief, promptly got up to grab a beer, and told you that he didn’t know you. And you replied back that you didn’t mind as long as he was willing to bring a perfect stranger a beer from your kitchen.

While you were indulging in your comfort show, Em had sent you pictures of the painted rooms as promised. It looked good and you liked the colors she and Carla had picked out. You broke into hysterics when one picture had Beau posing in front of a perfectly painted wall with a smug smirk and holding his arms out proudly. Beau was so lucky you didn’t have the password to the department’s website; you would have uploaded the picture so fast it would have made Poppernak’s head spin. Another picture showed a great selfie of all of the family. You liked that one, all genuine smiles and plenty of paint all over every single one of them (Em obviously had taken your suggestion and started a paint fight, you were so proud), Emily posing in the middle between her parents. It was nice to see them enjoying themselves, especially after the year they’d had. 

You knew it hadn’t been easy for Carla to choose to stay in the same area she and her daughter had experienced so much trauma in; she had told you as much. It was important to her to keep what family she had left together, that’s why she initially wanted to move back to Houston. But when Beau had convinced her to stay, she did it to keep Emily’s family together though it cost her quite a bit personally. You did everything you could to help, leaning into the friendship you used to have with her back in Texas. Not to mention Carla and Cassie had also formed their own sort of friendship thanks to the mutual links of Beau, you, and Emily. There were quite a few times Denise had mentioned to you that she and Cassie had stopped in for tea when Carla was still trying to sell the old property. You all provided as much support as you could, to let her and Emily (and Beau by extension) know that they weren’t alone here.

Your phone chimed with the arrival of a new picture. This one had you bowled over with laughter for the next two minutes. Emily had taken a selfie of her and Beau making horrified faces at the camera, an open box of Hawaiian pizza next to them, the pineapple clear as day on top of the cheese (sans the sauce as you had ordered). Emily had added in text: “Thanks for the pizza…I guess?” You rolled your eyes, smiling, and texted her back that it was pizza and if she could get her dad to eat a piece, she absolutely had to record a video and send it to you. She sent a winky emoji back with a thumbs up when a new message came in from Beau.

You shrugged and quickly typed out a reply. 

You snickered at the emojis he sent in response. Beau didn’t usually do emojis, that had to be Em’s influence, and you sure were getting a kick out of it. 

Satisfied that you had more than made your point about pineapple on pizza being superior, you snuggled down into your pillows and started another episode of Real Housewives. Seeing location shots of Dallas intercut with the episode caused a little pang inside your chest. Perhaps that’s part of the reason you tolerated such a dramatic show. You had only been to Dallas once or twice but still, the images reminded you of home and it provided a tiny salve for your heart, something you needed after such a rough day. Smiling when you were flooded with happy memories, you slowly closed your eyes and you were out like a light before Leanne and Brandi could start fighting for the umpteenth time over who betrayed who while Stephanie watched from the background looking torn.

And the rest of the week had been just as rough. You had come to refer to it as Hell Week between you and Poppernak. Hoyt made sure to give you the worst calls she could pull from the list each morning, either giving them to you directly or giving them to Pops knowing you would join him so he had backup. And you were pretty sure she had Madge dispatching any bullshit calls to you both during the day. Truthfully, it was starting to wear on you a little but you refused to show any trace of it to Hoyt or anyone in the department. That’s exactly what she wanted and you’d die first before giving that spiteful little blonde one goddamn inch.

Poppernak had even mentioned something one afternoon as you rode about an hour outside of town for a new case. It wasn’t his norm to make comments on the ongoing conflict between you and Hoyt, choosing to cruise in neutral territory instead, but that’s how much of a fucked up week it had been.

“Man, what did you do to piss off Hoyt this time?”

You shrugged a shoulder. “I was born, I guess.”

He chuckled nervously and shook his head, turning his gaze back onto the road. “Or something.”

“Or something,” you echoed. 

You hadn’t heard from Beau in a couple of days except for a single text message to let you know that he had convinced Emily to go camping after all. He asked if everything was going okay and you assured him that all was well. It was a lie of course but you refused to tell him the truth. You were a big girl and you could take care of yourself. Besides, you chose to meet Hoyt’s petty bullshit with indifference. 

And now you here were, schlepping through three foot long grass like you were on a fucking safari, looking for some old couple’s runaway dog and finding every conceivable pile of dog shit for you to plow through. Pops was whistling and calling out for the dog in his area and you were pretty sure he hadn’t moved any further since you warned him about potential snakes. Normally, you would have rolled your eyes and planned to tease him later about his apprehension, but in this situation, you couldn’t help but think that he was the smart one. You kept surging forward blindly, hence the crap all over your shoes. 

You had made it a few more feet when suddenly a dark head popped up not that far from your position, startling you and making you gasp. Your eyes went wide when you realized what you were looking at. Was that a…wolf? A goddamn wolf? 

Poppernak called out the name of the dog, and the wolf’s head snapped in his direction. You were stunned, but you still had enough presence of mind to call over to your partner albeit calmly so as not to startle the animal in front of you. “Pops! Shhh.”

“What was that, Y/N? I didn’t catch that. You see something?” He yelled back, making you grind your teeth together.

You carefully raised a hand in his direction to get his attention. “I need you to be quiet,” you carefully enunciated as you watched the wolf staring you down. “There is a wolf in front of me.”

“I’m sorry, did you say a wolf?” Poppernak cried out in a mix of disbelief and alarm. You bit your lip to keep from screaming out at him to shut his trap like you desperately wanted to. The more loud sounds that were made seemed to agitate the wolf and you were right in its sights. If you somehow survived this, you were going to give Pops a serious talking to. If you told him to shut it out in the field while working with him, he needed to shut his damn mouth, no questions asked, case closed.

“Pops, stop making so much noise. You’re pissing it off,” you said as calmly as possible.

“What do you want me to do?” Pops chose to loudly whisper instead. “Should I call Animal Control?”

The wolf bared its teeth at you and growled. Great.

“Don’t think that’s gonna help.”

You watched as the animal tensed and coiled in a backwards motion, almost as if it was getting into an attack position. Your instincts warred with one another; you wanted to reach for your gun to protect yourself but you also didn’t want to make any movements that might pose more of a threat. From the continued growling and its yellow-eyed laser focus on you, it was obvious you were already considered one.

“Y/N,” Poppernak stage whispered to you. “What do I do?”

“I don’t know,” you whispered back. “They didn’t cover wolves in training at the academy.”

“I don’t know, either.”

“You’re from around here, Pops. How the hell do you not know what to do?”

“Hey, they didn’t cover this in training here, either. That’s why we have Animal Control.”

“Pops!”

“Okay, okay. Whatever you do, don’t look it in the eyes. I think I remember my grandpa telling me if you do that with a bear, they’ll take it as a challenge and it’ll make them want to attack.”

The wolf growled at you and coiled back further, making you let out a nervous breath. “It’s a little late for that, Pepper Snaps.”

“Hang on, Y/N. I’m coming.”

“No! Stay where you are!” You yelled out in shock, wincing when you realized your mistake.

You saw more teeth and heard another growl. You decided the hell with it, and slowly moved to grab your gun. This thing was going to attack you, that was obvious, and while you’d rather it just turn and run in the opposite direction, you had to defend yourself. At that very inopportune moment, your phone vibrated in your pocket and your head snapped up, gasping when you noticed the animal ready itself to spring at you. This was it; you were done for. One of your last thoughts was that you hoped your being mauled by one of the apex predators of Montana finally lit a fire under Beau to prompt him to action and he ripped Hoyt a new one for sending you and Pops out into the fucking wilderness with no backup or protection.

“Goldie!” The old man called out from the porch. “Here, girl!” He’d obviously given up trusting that you and Poppernak would find his dog. Based on the wolf in front of you, you had a feeling you knew where the missing pet had gone. 

Almost as if it heard that thought and it had reached its limit on irritation, the animal growled and sprung forward at you, making you surge backwards and cry out as you fell promptly on your ass, right into several piles of dogshit you had somehow missed before. You held an arm up in front of your face as a last defense and closed your eyes, anticipating the feeling of those sharp teeth you had seen and the ensuing pain.

“Y/N!” Poppernak shouted. You could hear him running towards you. “I’m coming!”

 Much to your surprise, the pain didn’t come. The impact didn’t even happen. Your eyes snapped open in time to see a tail whooshing past you. In shock, you watched as the wolf broke into a run towards the house. 

“Pops! It’s heading towards the house!” You managed to get out. “The Knutsons!”

“Oh shit!” Had this been any other time, you would have laughed in surprise at Pops’ cursing; he never cursed. But this wasn’t any other time. “Mr. Knutson, get in the house! Get Mrs. Knutson and get inside! NOW!”

You went into a panic when you saw Lee make eye contact with the animal and instead of grabbing his wife and fleeing into the house as Pops instructed, a huge smile broke out onto his face and he held his arms out. “Goldie!”

The wolf increased its speed and you pulled your gun, jumping to your feet and running as fast as you could, Poppernak not too far behind you, both of you thinking the same thing: Lee was old and his eyesight might not be the best. He probably believed he saw his dog running towards him and being overwhelmed with relief, he didn’t think anything of it. He probably hadn’t even heard Pops’ yells too well, either, but even if he had, he’d probably think the deputy was mistaken. He was seeing his dog returning home to him. There was no way you were going to match the speed of the animal, it was going to beat you to the Knutsons, but you were determined to try. You just hoped you got there in time enough that the injuries wouldn’t be too bad. 

You heard the wolf bark as it jumped onto the porch, right at the old man. “Get back, sir!” Poppernak yelled next to you. Your lungs and legs were burning, but you pushed yourself to pick up speed and gave it all you had, making leaps over little objects that littered the portion of the yard you were in to give yourself more momentum.    

But to your surprise, the wolf stopped right before colliding with Lee, and instead raised up on its hind legs, placing its paws on his chest. “Shit,” you panted out and pumped your arms to help you move even faster. The wolf’s tongue was hanging out in between barks and you were close enough now to hear it let out a few cries, too. But thankfully, it didn’t attack Lee, or Marilyn when she got up and hurried over, the smile on her face mirroring her husband’s. It also didn’t bite Lee as he petted its huge head.

“Goldie! Where have you been? We’ve been so worried about you!” The wolf barked in the man’s face, making him laugh.

You and Poppernak came to a halt right in front of the house and began to raise your guns to porch level and stopped, thinking the older couple was still confused. “Mr. Knutson, be very careful,” the deputy warned. “Don’t make any sudden movements.”

Both Lee and Marilyn glanced down at you in confusion. “What do you mean?” The former asked.

“Mrs. Knutson, carefully step away, slowly,” you added. You were still working out in your head how you were going to get Lee safely out of the way and how you could scare the wolf off so you wouldn’t have to shoot it. Poppernak could then call Animal Control and get them out here so the Knutsons would be safe. Catching a whiff of yourself, realizing it was actually wolf shit you had been trekking through this entire time, you even entertained the thought of looking into getting someone out here to clean up the property for them.

Marilyn’s brows furrowed. “Why? You found our Goldie!”

“Ma’am, that’s not Goldie,” Pops calmly stated, both of your eyes still centered on the large animal who growled in your direction.

“Yes, it is!” Lee insisted.

“Sir,” you began. “I’m afraid it’s not.” You really didn’t desire to tell these people that their beloved dog was gone, most likely killed by the predator in front of them, but that was something you could worry about after everyone was safe. 

“It is too Goldie! Watch!” Lee glanced down at the animal, forcing it to make eye contact. “Goldie, sit!”

And to both yours and Poppernak’s shock, the wolf jumped down and did just that, looking as docile as any well-trained pet. 

“Good girl,” Lee praised. “Now, lay down.” The wolf again did as the old man instructed, wagging its tail.

You and your partner exchanged a mystified look; had the Knutsons been feeding a wolf this whole time? And now it was following their commands? How was this even possible? Just when you thought you’d seen everything.

Lee began to laugh. “Oh, I see. You think she’s a wolf from the wild, right?” 

You failed to see the humor and swiftly nodded, still keeping your eye on the animal. “She’s not?” Poppernak asked in disbelief.

“Oh my Lord, no. Goldie here is a hybrid. We’ve had her since she was a pup. Got her from a breeder. So you can relax now and put those guns away. You’re making her nervous.”

Poppernak slowly placed his back in his holster but you simply lowered yours. The wolf may now be watching you in keen interest, tongue lolling out of its mouth and panting heavily, but you still remembered how aggressive it looked back in the yard when you came across it. You weren’t blindly trusting what the old man was telling you; you needed proof first.

“Mr. Knutson, when I asked you what your dog looked like, you told me it had black fur and yellow—”

“Eyes,” Lee finished for you. “That’s why we call her Goldie. They’re beautiful, aren’t they?”

One glance at the wolf confirmed the rich gold staring back at you. 

“But when we asked you the breed, you said it was a mutt, half King Shepherd. Not to mention it was about to attack Y/L/N here.” You gave a subtle nod of appreciation to your partner at that last little mention. Both of you were trying to desperately make sense of this odd situation. Especially since you asked for a photo of Goldie and you were told you didn’t need one since she had to be lost on the property somewhere, possibly hurt or dying. It wasn’t like her not to come home by nightfall; her being missing for two days straight, she was in trouble. Their urgency overrode your attempts to get a visual of the animal you were looking for. You’d even tried to persuade them to supply you with a photo anyway but Lee had been adamant, which is exactly why you and Pops had been making your way through the endless yard.

“That’s her dog half. And a hybrid is a mutt,” Lee mused, smiling down at his pet. “I know she’s big and scary looking but I assure you she’s harmless. You probably just scared her is all. She doesn’t care for trespassers and she’s a little wary of visitors.” Marilyn nodded along with him.

You looked over at Pops who gave you a shrug, unsure of how to proceed. You let out a heavy breath and slipped your gun back into your holster, your gaze landing back on the wolf who laid her head down on her paws, almost as if she was trying to look innocent of the accusation that had just been made against her. Your eyes lifted to her owner when a thought hit you.

“You got her from a breeder, you say? Surely you’ll have papers for her then.”

Lee scratched at his head. “We do, somewhere. It’d take us forever to find it but, hey! You ask the sheriff or Miss Hoyt. They know Goldie, they know she’s legal.”

Your jaw tensed at the mention of the undersheriff. You knew she was saving the worst calls for you to go out on and you had accepted this week was pure hell that you would get through no matter what, but this…this was just plain vindictiveness at its best. Now the smirk she’d given you when giving you this call made sense, along with her insisting Animal Control wasn’t needed when you mentioned it and the Knutsons were a lovely old couple that just needed a little hand holding since they didn’t have anyone else, their kids and grandkids having long ago moved out of state.

“Y/L/N, the dog is probably somewhere in the yard and they don’t even know it. It would mean a lot to them if we respond to let them know we’re taking it seriously. Just go out there, look around, whistle a few times, and if the dog doesn’t come running, then tell them we’ll put flyers up. Open and shut case, trust me.”

You weren’t a violent person by any means. You could certainly hold your own in a fight but that wasn’t the way you preferred to resolve things. But if Hoyt were here in front of you right this second, you would have decked her.

You glared over at Poppernak who was gaping over at you. He seemed just as surprised as you so that made you feel slightly better. At least the whole department hadn’t been in on this. You gave Lee a curt nod and turned to head back to the car, more than done for the day, when you heard a loud gasp from behind you.

“Oh, honey.” You spun around, thinking the worst only to find Marilyn holding a hand over her mouth, her gaze intent on you, while Lee appeared to be struggling to hold in a laugh. You knew it before she even said it. “You are just covered in…in…”

“Dog shit,” Lee finished for his wife and burst out into laughter. Goldie began barking excitedly, almost as if she was trying to laugh along with her owner. She ignored the glare you sent her way and kept on barking. You glanced down and you were indeed covered in the excrement. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Pops hold a closed fist up to his mouth, making a sound that suspiciously sounded like a chuckle and taking a step away from you. You scowled over at him, daring him to join in the laughter. The chuckle morphed into a sudden cough mixed in with a throat clearing, his expression turning sheepish.

Marilyn didn’t laugh, though. “I have some baby wipes,” she offered.

“Thank you,” you grumbled, not able to inject any gratitude into your voice just then. You hoped you didn’t sound too rude. Baby wipes were certainly better than nothing. 

“Of course. I’ll be right back.” Marilyn hurried inside the house and you couldn’t help but continue to glare at the dog who watched you intently, tongue hanging out, not a care in the world, and a gleam in her golden eyes that confirmed for you that she found your predicament just as entertaining as her owner did. You shot her a ferocious glare as you worked to get your jacket off carefully with Poppernak’s help. Seeing the excrement now caked underneath your fingernails, you left out an irritated huff. Hell week indeed.

A/N: This was the image I had in my head of Goldie btw (black fur, yellowish eyes):

This is a full on wolf but definitely the look could fit the hybrid I think, depending on genetics and the dog breed of course.

dividers by @firefly-graphics

[apollobar]

Everything That is Left: Chapter 2

Chapter 1: Here

CHAPTER 2: ECHOES OF SUSPICION

Nightmares tend to slink their way into her mind like a snake. Silent and eerie as they slither against thoughts and memories, looking for a place to sink poisonous fangs. Tender spots too irresistible for an opportunistic reptile. Lucy has become no stranger to these types of intruders, often meeting them in the shadows of sleep. And tonight, if she allows it, she knows they will meet her again. The events of recent days primed and ready to welcome guests inside her head. So, instead she stays awake. A choice that leaves no door for nightmares to slip through.

In an effort to keep exhaustion at bay, Lucy does her best to occupy her mind. She begins by counting the leaves that hang above her. It is too dark to see what sits beyond the jungle, past the tree line where she lays. So she focuses on the plants closest to her, the glow of moonlight making it possible for her to sketch out the shapes of stoic branches dressed in green. For each leaf that she tallies, she twists the piece of seaglass around in her hand. Her own version of a click counter. 210, twist, 211, twist, 212… But then the wind comes and rustles the leaves like feathers and the whole thing has to begin again. 

Lucy goes like this for some time until finally surrendering the victory to the breeze. Bushes sway in celebration and her eyes close briefly, the tug of sleep enticing and seductive. Her bones have turned to stone thrown into wet concrete as Lucy sinks deeper and deeper into herself. Something slinks against her mind in anticipation and in a sharp moment of realization, she jumps to her feet. Panic trembling through her arms and pushing out the remnants of fatigue. 

From her new position she notices, more clearly, the sea of bodies laying around her. Fourteen people. Fourteen survivors from a total of a hundred and fifteen passengers who boarded the small cruise across the Pacific Ocean. John sleeps a few feet away from her, and she watches as the softness in his features twist and change to something Lucy knows too well. Dreams morphing into sinking ships and ink black oceans. And a surge of guilt rushes through her veins. It was Lucy’s fault they were all on that ship in the first place, coming at her insistence to go on a vacation together. Her need for some time to connect and relax together as friends rather than just coworkers. And now, because of her, they were in danger. If she could take it all back she would. She would go back and throw away that stupid brochure like Tim told her to do in the first place. A pang stings the back of her throat at the memory and she forces herself to swallow it down. Regrets are useless now, she tries to remind herself.

Ripping her eyes from her friend, she scans the area desperate for something new to take her focus. In answer, a piece of silver shines over to her left, and she smiles with gratitude as the sinking rock in her chest slips away for now. Walking over, sand crunching under foot, she discovers the remnants of the group’s lifeboat supplies. Piled together against the boat in a makeshift pyramid, left to be used later on. She picks up a hatchet, still glinting of silver soaked in moonlight. It’s one of two identical tools, each about the size of her forearm and with an unused blade still sharp to the touch. Lucy is careful as she lifts it. An item originally so easily bought at a home goods store, now promoted to a title of preciousness and necessity. 

Kneeling, she gently lays the hatchet across the ground away from the pile of tools, the other one soon following and finding a new home beside it. She’s slow and tender with each object she picks up and moves it, cautious not to harm anything as she separates them one by one. The world is quiet as she works. Muffled by the stillness of early morning, and a warm pink tint that begins to spread across the earth. Once each one is spread out before her, she rises and surveys the treasure of items, dusting sand off her pants in harsh strokes. 

Two oars, one compass, two hatchets, a dipper, four flares, one flashlight, one signaling mirror, a jack knife, one set of fishing tackle, five thermal blankets, and a first aid kit. 

Lucy scans the items again.

And then again.

A familiar wave of concern and suspicion ripples through her and she pokes her head inside the lifeboat. Her calloused hands brush and slide along the crevices of the boat before circling the raft as she kicks up and pushes the sand around it. When the boat comes up empty and nothing new is unearthed from beneath the ground, Lucy forces herself to take a deep breath as her hands push her hair back from the scalp. 

Something is missing.

----------------------- 

The camp has begun to rise and Lucy watches as each castaway wipes a terrible night’s sleep from their eyes. Groups have naturally started to gather together in the early dawn. A few people have started to scale the rocky coast for driftwood, walking up towards the stone cliff that sits a few hundred yards beyond. Some of them even venture tentatively into the jungle for dry kindling, careful and unsure of what kind of wildlife lurks within. From her seat next to the lifeboat she can see a group of three men on her left. They sit in a triangle, arms dangling over knees as they lament over injuries and sand fleas who snuck bites throughout the night. One of them, Jared, nurses the arm that he dislocated in the chaos days ago. He adjusts the makeshift sling she remembers Tim  made for him the first night on the boat from a belt. He plays it cool in front of the others, Steven and Henry, as they talk. But every now and again, Lucy will notice how his fingernails will curl into his palm and the color drains from his face with every accidental touch or brush from a harsh wind. 

A little further on, another but more familiar group of three stand tall and huddle together in deep conversation, bound by a benefit of shared history. A history that Lucy shares as well, and draws her in from her spot on the surf, pulling her towards them now. It has been an hour since she discovered the items missing from their supplies, and since then a ticking clock has begun. Taunting her in the back of her mind with a tick tick tick. News like this is not something that will stay quiet for long.

Even from a distance, Lucy can make out the shapes of her friends. Angela’s hands are expressive as she talks, moving along with her. Tim crosses his arms across his chest in firm contemplation, and John wipes a sweaty hand down his jaw. An air of seriousness engulfs the discussion, but then again, all conversations have felt serious these days. When she reaches them, friendly eyes catch hers in recognition, but are too engrossed in their conversation at the moment to go beyond acknowledgement. 

“...inside the jungle! We can’t rule out the possibility that there is something or someone out there that could help us.” Angela continues, Lucy only catching the tail end of her response.

“What about rescue? I’m not sure packing up and leaving is our best strategy here,” John argues, his tone level but stern.

“A few of the others have already started on figuring out a signal fire, but John we can’t just sit here.”  Her voice has started to rise, desperation and truth ring in her words, and the men are silent as she continues, “It was a miracle that our lifeboat even survived that typhoon. Rescue may not know we are even alive. And even if they knew to look for us, who knows how far we were taken! They may not know where to start looking.”

All night, as Lucy counted leaves and organized supplies, Tim’s assurance of rescue from the day before rang in her head. His confidence at the time had wrapped around her like a blanket, providing a comfort she ached for. And as the night wore on, his words would float through her mind. Rescue is going to come. The whole time, she half expected–hoped a helicopter or rescue boat would shine a spotlight onto their camp, announcing the promise of safety. Lucy sneaks a glance at Tim, and she wishes that she hadn’t as all his comforting conviction falters with the fall of his chest. A knife twists into her fostering fear, and the air is cold on her neck as the semblance of yesterday’s comfort strips away. There’s a beat, and Tim finally speaks up.

“So what’s your plan?” He asks.

“I can take a group of two or three of us. Take one of the hatchets, some of the rations, and scout the area while the rest of you get a decent camp and signal fire going. We can walk the shore, and see if this place is as deserted as it looks. At the very least we may find fresh water or some fruit trees.” 

“As great as that plan sounds, we have a problem,” Lucy interrupts, pushing the fear down and seizing the opportunity. Angela’s eyebrows knit together and looks over at her.

“What do you mean?” She asks, and before responding, Lucy takes a moment to tentatively take in the rest of the camp. Everyone was bound to find out sooner or later, but until some sort of solution can be prepared, it is probably best to keep the amount of people in the know small. The men are a ways back now, a few standing to dust off the sand and move on to somewhere new. After a moment, she concludes no one else is close enough to hear without straining, but Lucy lowers her voice anyways.

“The rations are missing.”

“What are you talking about? We had enough for at least three more days,” Tim counters, lowering his voice along with hers to a harsh whisper.

“I know, but I’ve gone over the supplies a hundred times. They’re gone.” 

They all share a look, and Angela takes a few steps back to run a hand through her hair processing the information.

“Are you sure an animal didn’t take them in the middle of night?” John offers, always prepared to give the benefit of the doubt first. 

“I mean it’s possible,” Lucy says as she shifts her weight on her feet back and forth, “but the area was absent of any tracks and nothing else from the pile was touched...” Her voice trails as the other possibility hangs in the air like smoke. An unsaid accusation that seeps into the conversation, lingering and present. 

“God damnit,” Tim swears and leans in, “have you told anyone else?”

“Not yet, I figured it was best to keep it quiet until we came up with some sort of solution.” Lucy responds and earns nods of agreement. They are all quite close now, leaned in with low voices. The beginnings of a plan forming amongst the four of them. John and Tim suggest a stake out throughout the day and next night to see if the thief is brazzen enough to take something else. Angela proposes an investigation to weed out a suspect. But none of it seems to matter as chaos is carried up from the beach.

Lucy whips her head around, following the yelling and out near the lifeboat she sees them. Two men, Steven and Henry, who moments ago were lounging on the beach together, now entrapped in a shouting match with each other. It takes one second and a single push for their words to blend into something physical and fall to the ground in entangled limbs. She doesn’t think before charging after them, the others following right behind. Steven is taller and stronger than his opponent, his build lean with sturdy arms giving him enough edge as he hits Henry. The sound of knuckles hitting skin crackles through the air. A few feet away Jared calls for help, his shoulder stopping him from making any meaningful intervention.

“Knock it off!” Lucy commands as she reaches the fight, her voice landing on deaf ears. Steven’s hands are a blur as he continues to hit him and Henry tries his best to block what he can, pushing his arms up in front of his face. Lucy digs her fingers into Steven’s shoulders, and Angela steps in to pull Henry out of the way. She rips at his arms and as he swings his elbow back, he accidentally makes contact with Lucy’s face, smacking her backwards. The pain is sharp and the taste of iron fills her mouth. The new sensation startles Steven as well, as if he was unaware of her presence the whole time and he jumps back startled. Only now comprehending the crowd that has gathered, filled with wincing expressions and unease. Angela takes the moment to help bring Henry to his feet and John grabs Steven to restrain more than steady him.  

“What the hell is going on here?” Tim demands as the two men struggle to catch their breaths. Chests heaving up and down between charged glares. 

“Ask him! He’s a fucking lunatic!” Henry yells, as he spits out a mix of blood and sand. 

“Don’t act like you don’t know! You’re the one who ate the rest of the rations and left us here to starve on this rock!” Steven shouts back, and John’s grip on him tightens to hold him back.

“I told you it wasn’t me!”

Steven scoffs, and Lucy goes to shoot Tim a knowing look, only to find him already watching. His gaze trained on her since the fight, and she can feel something wet trickle down her chin. The bickering has grown irritating as the men continue to shoot remarks at each other. Steven convinced of Henry’s guilt, and Henry stern on his stance of innocence.

“You know maybe it was actually you who–” 

“Cut it out!” Lucy interrupts, her patience evaporating as she wipes the blood from her face. Her voice echoes as she speaks, “You idiots are forgetting that we are not the only living things on this island. It’s far more likely that an animal came to our camp last night and stole it!” It was a possibility that she dismissed earlier, but at this point the truth offers only contempt and suspicion. Useless feelings blocking any progress towards actually getting rescued.

“An animal that leaves no crumbs?” Steven mocks, and a few members of the crowd huff in agreement.

“Fine! Let’s say it was Henry! How is kicking the crap out of him going to get any of it back?” A flash of guilt floods Steven’s gaze as he glances at Henry. Most of his punches landed on his arms causing fresh bruises to scatter his arms, and neck. Lucy seizes the moment to continue, “We were going to run out of rations sooner or later. If we're going to survive, we can’t be turning on each other at the first sign of trouble. We haven’t even gotten a proper fire going or a shelter to block out the wind! We have bigger problems to be dealing with than throwing around baseless accusations!” 

Lucy’s speech rings around the group like a bell. All the bravado from earlier cleared away to defeat.

“So what do you propose that we do?” A blonde girl from the crowd speaks up and everyone turns to Lucy for an answer. One that she isn’t sure she’s prepared to really give at this moment. She takes in a breath as she searches for what to say, searches for a plan that could set them on the right track. The silence is stretching on for too long, and Lucy can feel the group’s doubt and fear inflating with every second she stalls. At last she sees Angela and recalls the conversation she walked in upon mere moments ago. With a nod in her direction, Lucy finally says,

“I believe you had a few ideas.”

____

Thank you to everyone for the support on the first chapter! I was really touched! Unfortunately I could not get this chapter out as fast as I hoped, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless! You can also follow me on Ao3 @apollobar !

[taiblogcomics]

The Tim Has Come to End It

Hey there, canned nacho cheese. Well, here we are. It's finally time. By the end of this review, we will be done with Avengers Arena. Won't that be nice? There will be no more Child Murder Island. No more bad Hunger Game ripoffs. Arcade will probably get punched again. Anyway, let's get into it so we can get out of it~

Here's the final cover:

...which is just the first cover again, but more! Seriously, does this not encapsulate the whole series in one neat summary? Reusing the first cover might seem thematic, but then you remember it was also a Battle Royale homage. And it really digs deep into how few original or even good ideas are even in this story. Bad from beginning to end, just like the series~

So we open with Apex sitting in Arcade's chair, once again reminding us she's totally not a monster, you guys. You know, as she sits in Arcade's chair, going over his list of unused tortures (man-eating insect swarm, sentient typhoon, napalm winds) and admiring his restraint in not using them constantly, like she would have. Everything went to shit even with his hands-off approach. And as Apex continues to admire Hazmat exploding, she mocks Deathlocket, frozen to stare at the screen, as liking to watch. No, not a monster, not at all...

As nuclear energy continues to pour out of Hazmat, she begs the others for help. And luckily, Chase revives enough to notice her, and shouts loud enough to get everyone's attention. And to their credit, they do stop fighting once they see Hazmat about to a splode. Reptil turns into a giant crocodile and scoops her up in his mouth, rushing out away from shore. And then the detonation happens. Clearly you're supposed to believe they're both dead, but the comic has established that if it doesn't show their life meter at zero, they're not. So way to undermine your own tension, comic.

Continuing to demonstrate her non-monster personality, Apex screams at her TV, like any rational person or let's play fan. Don't be sad, you idiots, press the advantage! Yeah, not a monster. So she figures she has to do everything herself, running her finger down the list of torture options. And thus, the insect swarm is released, the ocean and sand both start to come to life as creatures to attack them... Cammi passes Chase back the Darkhawk amulet, and Nico breaks out the old Runaways catchphrase: "Try not to die!"

While watching this, Apex Not-A-Monster goes over to the paralysed Deathlocket and begins waxing nostalgic about how the hardest one for her to kill will be Deathlocket herself. After all, who wants to deliberately break their favourite toy? And that's when Locket swings around and punches Apex in the gut, shouting she's not a toy. And unlike Apex's proclamations of being not a monster, I believe Locket on this one. She continues to beat on Apex, and Apex begs her brother and other self, Tim, to give her back control.

And while Locket beats Apex down and aims her cannon at her, she's actually not a monster. Apex shifts back into Tim, and Tim begs Locket to shoot their shared body and end it. He can't wrest more control from Apex than this, all he can do is basically keep her clamped down and beg Locket. After all, if she doesn't take them out, then Apex will take control back and end her instead. It's a big dilemma, and both of them are begging and screaming, and the comic isn't going to do us the courtesy of showing that conclusion immediately~

The rest of the kids are still fighting, but not for their right to party. And then, very suddenly, it all dissolves. Everything falls to pieces and the fight stops. From out of the ground, Locket rises in a blue sphere of energy and a blood-soaked T-shirt. She did the deed. Arcade's fled, Apex is dead. It's over and they can leave. But before they can do that... They have to get their story straight. Chase thinks they should just tell the truth, but Cammi points out that even if folks believe them, they won't take it seriously because they're kids.

And that's when Hazmat rises out of the sea, free of any radioactive glow. She proposes they tell them nothing. Nobody gets details, because if they do, then Arcade wins. And thus does it end, with a Sun Tzu quote about treating your soldiers like your children, as the various heroes round up the survivors--even Darkhawk and Reptil are shown being recovered--and the news reports on the terrible actions.

Sixteen super-teens kidnapped and held for 30 days, by person or persons unknown. And while certainly the sick bastard who did it to 'em is responsible, so are the adult superheroes who "failed" the kids. Surely they're as much to blame, rant the TV pundits. And safe in a classy hotel, popping champagne and uploading the first of his videos to the 'net, we get one last glimpse of Arcade's horrible smirking face as the comic ends. While he's not getting direct credit, everyone's still talking about what he did. He won.

Let’s start with the most important thing. This series was started to kill off a bunch of teen superheroes. Never forget that. Be they the established ones--Mettle, Red Raven, Juston and his Sentinel--or a bunch of OCs made up for this story--Kid Briton, Nara, Apex/Tim--don’t forget their names. Much like our old review of Heroes in Crisis, don’t forget the side-characters who died to bring you this awful story.

That story’s still worse, by the way. At least the plot of this one was conducted by an actual villain. In the stupidest, most contrived way possble, but at least it’s not a story that exists to commit character assassination. Just literal assassination. This story’s awful, but only on the same level as the New 52 Teen Titans reboot. Which, come to think of it, also had a terrible Hunger Games ripoff as part of its plot. That’s essentially what this is: the Culling from Teen Titans stretched out to a full series.

Anyways, we picked apart the whole range of reasons why this series sucked over the course of the review, but let’s summarise. Arcade was turned into an all-powerful god-mode villain and gets away with everything. The teens were not given any actual motivation to murder each other, and waste loads of time futzing around instead of being heroes. The story exists to essentially kill off some D-list teenagers, and that’s just not an enjoyable plot. And much more!

Hey, while we’re here, did anybody notice my little game with the titles? To really ensure you don’t forget any of the kids who went through this, I put every one of their names into the review’s titles. 16 kids (plus one alter), 18 issues. The only one that didn’t get one was issue 7, because I didn’t want to dignify Arcade with the gimmick. Usually they were thematically involved with the given issue, either on the cover or doing that issue’s narration. And sometimes I had to shoe-horn it, like Red Raven’s. But it was a fun challenge.

Sadly, though, we’re not done. Because why should we, or these kids, get any kind of break? Oh yes. This god-awful mess got a fucking sequel. And we’re going to look at that starting next week. Won’t that be a scream~?

[iceiclehorned]

Continued from here

@nekasu

Not getting a reply from anything she had said did not surprise her. He needed time to decompress, and she understood that. Being stuck for hundreds of years in one place, alone and scared. Ei could understand it too well, only she had more power than he did during that time. She just refused to use it until now, which was shameful of an Archon. Now that her eyes had been opened … everything looked brighter for the future of her nation and her people. She would protect them at all costs and she would not dare to go back to her old ways now that she had matured. Though, it left her awfully behind during modern times …

“Come with me,” she gently spoke, releasing him from her grip and instead holding his hand and guiding him through Tenshukaku. There was a room that had clearly been unused for a long time. A bedroom. When Tenshukaku had been built initially, Ei still had her physical form. Of course, as she no longer had one and stayed inside the Shogun, she could simply recover any lost energy there. Though, she had found that sleeping was still comforting. “Here.” Her hand remained attached to his, leading him to the bed. “It … it isn’t used. Occasionally, I will allow someone to come in and clean the place, so it is not… dirty.” Hygiene was important to Kitsune - at least, Miko seemed very fussy about it.

“You may use this room to rest.” Her plan was to leave him there to rest, but something was nagging in her being to stay beside him longer. The mere sight of him was in stark contrast of who he used to be. Guilt loomed over her once again, her gaze desperate to meet his. “Do… do you need anything?” She queries him almost hesitantly. “I can get some of the staff to bring you tea, or a hot meal… we can get the room all warmed up for you.” Ei simply wanted Neka to feel as comfortable as possible. She had a lot to make up for herself. So she would start now.

However, she was aware that there would be a chance that Neka could always change his mind about fighting her in the future. Part of her dreaded the day that could happen, another part of her wanted it pushed aside. It brought back too many memories of her old friend, Mikoshi Chiyo. She had been tainted by a horrid beast after it swallowed her whole … and despite slaying it, it still resulted in a dramatic shift of who she used to be. The memories of her blade clashing with Chiyo’s came flooding back almost in an instant, the sky dark, clouds filled with rainwater and tears for the sight that beheld the sky while thunder struck innocent parts of the land. All the while her emotions pushed aside - although she could feel the pain in her heart as she fought - as she had badly damaged her friend; cutting off one horn and then cutting the arm she held her blade in clean off. It would be the last time she saw her dear friend. Her blade then stained with the memory of who that friend had become against her will.

Ei then released a sigh, goosebumps following. Despite not having a physical form anymore, she could still feel things as if she had one. It was never a loss to her to begin with. Her eyes refocused and she was no longer on a bloodstained battleground. Rather, she was back with Neka, in the room she had given him. Perhaps these memories haunted her more than she liked to admit. “Ahem…” her head shook. “Apologies. You didn’t happen to say anything, did you?” She decided to play it off dumbly, still recovering from the memory that haunted her heart once more.

[ducknotinarow]

[Ariel and Summer]

"It's just a little further, I promise."

Which was something Ariel had said at least four times now, as she lead Summer through the Tunnels, knowing these ones like the back of her hand. They're obviously unused, having been left abandoned for a while. It was perfect. Reaching a door, clearly made of random pieces Ariel had find, she pushed it aside and allowed Summer in.

Inside was, well, cluttered to say the least. In the dimly lit part of this closed off sewer tunnel, Ariel had covered every nook and cranny she could with all sorts. Random broken items, from glasses, to cups, to random toys that sometimes showed up. Corks, and screws, and pebbles, and well, anything and everything. If it existed, Ariel probably had it somewhere in her collection. Seashells she found were glued to the brick, or hung from string like stars in the skies - though how she even got up there to hang them was a question within itself. In the ceiling was a single grate, allowing beams of sunlight to wash in - the angle was perfect, allowing Ariel to lay on a bunch of pillows she had found so she could watch the sky without being disturbed,

"It's my collection," Ariel smiles, "I've got gadgets and gizmo's a plenty, I've got who's-its and whats-it galore," She says her words with a slight tune, "Oh, you want thing-a-ma-bobs Summer? I got at least twenty!"

It's clear this collection of human things had been going on for a while, and had no signs of stopping. Ariel clearly admired it, grinning,

"You can uhm, take some stuff, if you want?" Ariel offers, "I do love my collection, but I don't mind sharing..."

She moves to that little patch of the sun, sitting herself down, enjoying the warmth. Her smile faded a little,

"You're not going to tell anyone, will you Summer?" Ariel wants to double check, "I don't think dad will be impressed with my collection."

Oh, if only she knew.

| Muse Interaction

"Ari are we 'ike close yet?" Summer complained maybe for the third or fourth times, Summer had lost count a bit ago, feeling like see been walking through the tunnels with them for days at this point now. It been more about an hour but Summer's attention span could burn quick. And it was reaching that point since her cousin had told her about wanting to show her something

"It's just a little further, I promise."

Summer slightly pouted her lip Ariel had told her that for the fourth time now. Better than Pops 'We'll get there when we get there' she guessed but still. Summer looked around the tunnels she didn't travel them as much as her cousin did so to her it sort of looked all the same like an unending maze. Least till they finally reached something new! "Fuckin' finally!" Summer uttered under her breath as she jogged a little to catch up to Ariel's side now. As they made their way through the make shift door. Summer stepping in and letting eyes look around at everything they found to land on, she wasn't all that sure to start? A low wishlet given as she minded her step not wanting to crush anything below her feet by mistake. The light pouring in through the grate above made it so she could at least slightly make out a few stand outs in the mass.

Summer strayed over to a random pile of well to her, just looked like a bunch of random junk at best. There were broken glass shards, a cup. What she assumed was a cork screw? She had seen one at home before. It was pretty clear that Airel had been working on this for a while, but Summer didn't quite clock into why?

"It's my collection,"

"Collection?" Summer repeats back questioning this as a collection. But considering stuff she collected, it wasn't too different it just wasn't as on theme as Summers' collection of ticket stubs from games or trading cards of players. "Oh so it's jus' you 'ike human collection?" Having finally connected the dots. As she turned to find Ariel smiling brightly over this

"I've got gadgets and gizmo's a plenty, I've got who's-its and whats-it galore,"

Summer tilts her head and pursed her lips "why dose 'hat sound familiar?"

"Oh, you want thing-a-ma-bobs Summer? I got at least twenty!"

Summer was not focused at all on the objects being presented to her she could just a bout make out the music from how Ariel was talking right now. It was like some old faint pleasant memory but damn for the life of her she just could not. It was really bugging her now closing her eyes tightly a moment damn why did this all seem so familiar not quite daja vu? She could just about imagine a red headed girl she thinks dancing? Thoughts pulled away when his cousin goes to speak up again.

"You can uhm, take some stuff, if you want?"

"Uh 'ake somethin'?" She was more trying to gather her baring still trying to scratch that lingering thought in her head on why they sing song way Ariel was speaking was so familiar?

"I do love my collection, but I don't mind sharing..."

Summer just blows air out her mouth in a sort of raspberry like laugh, brushing the idea off as she gave a wave of her hand even "nah collection's are special Ari. OH if anythin' I can help ya wit' it! if ya 'ike I mean. I can' get a hold of things ya might not see where ya got most of this stuff after all." Following Ariel over as they made their way to the pile of pillows where the light from the grate was pouring over easily warming up the space. Summer joining her when she gets an idea "oh 'ike this!" she fished around he pockets a pulls out a mini hockey stick holding it over to her cousin "watch" see took the end off to reveal it was a pen smiling before she capped it and handed it over. Pushing it into their hand before she sat down beside them looking up at the grate to see the sun pout in around the metal. "Look real nice down here though." Summer observed as she looked around more at the many piles.

"You're not going to tell anyone, will you Summer?"

"uh?" Summer answered with not because she didn't understand but more because she felt it was just obvious that of course she wouldn't tell anyone about this place. "Course I wouldn' tell anyone." she still assures them despite that fact. "No one gonna get a word outta me no need ta worry 'bout that." She doubles down just in case it was needed to be said and made that much more clear.

"but why are ya worried about someone findin' out?"

"I don't think dad will be impressed with my collection."

"oh." was all Summer could think to say about that, after all everyone knew how her uncle Donnie could be. Always over prepared, a massive worry wort even more so when it came to her cousin. If he found out she been sneaking out topside, even if she was staying hidden and careful? Well yeah didn't take much to piece that all together from there. Neither of them seemed to know just how far off the mark they were when it came to the purple banded turtle of the group. " 'm sure he wouldn' be that upset with ya Ari? I mean he gotta somewhat understand after all 'ight?" She tries to reason a bit "but 'ike I said no one gonna get a word from me! I mean it they can torture me and nothin' about this place will be said! 'd sooner sell out my dad's on how gross and sappy they are at home." She soon pulls down a sleeve so to expose her forearm in case they need more to know this was safe with her "I mean it I'll make a blood oath or ya can burn my arm so ya know I won't spill. Dad always says a promise is important after ta all!" he might not have meant her to be this over the top about it thought. At least the sentiment should be coming across.

"Though I still say it's a cool collection ya got goin' I bet even Uncle Donnie would be a bit impressed how much ya gathered up on ya own, I mean sure he might get all panic 'ike he dose." Trying to copy her uncle now "you could have been seen by one of thise barbarians, by one of those humans!." Waging a finger at her cousin as she mocked scolded her only to laugh her self. When a thought hit her.

"Oh the little mermaid! 'Hats what ya reminded me of...." She trails off a second "wait is that why they call you that?" As is the big non mystery had finally be sloved.

[pigeonwhumps]

Registration

Sanctuary masterlist

Whumptober masterlist

Alt 5: ambushed

Thanks to @haro-whumps for the list of box boy positions (and position 5 in particular)!

Taglist: @littlespacecastle @whumpymirages

Anita takes Theo to be re-registered as her pet at the WRU.

2.8k

CWs: BBU, pet whump, collar, dehumanisation, 'it' as a pronoun for dehumanising, muzzle, Theo's fucky headspace, non-con nudity (non-sexual), caning, conditioning

Anita plucks the coat off the hook in the hallway and turns to Theo, who’s kneeling, eyes on the floor, grey beanie pulled down past his ears. It’s slightly too large but she hopes it’ll stop anyone else recognising him. They can buy a new one that fits today.

She bends down in front of him until he can see her, then reaches out and drapes the coat over his shoulders. He takes the hint and shrugs his arms into it, his eyes still confused – he’s very clearly unused to being kept warm, and she hates that. Hates everything she’s been able to gather about Theo’s treatment by his former owners. She glances down at the WRU sign language booklet, reminding herself of the signs – some for pets, some for owners. There’s some she’ll certainly never use.

“Comfortable?” she signs, and he nods. Not that he’d tell her if he wasn’t. “Good boy.” She strokes a hand through his hair once, which he leans into, and then stands, shouting in Tamil. “Paati! I’m going out now!”

“Good luck! And don’t forget the shopping.”

“I have a list!” she replies indignantly.

“Well don’t lose the list then! I know what you’re like.”

Anita rolls her eyes and turns to Theo, signing, “Come.” Her paati’s always worrying, but they need to leave if they’re to make their appointment at the WRU.

Once outside Theo seems somewhat uncertain, clutching his teddy close, jumping as a car passes close to the kerb. She takes his hand, keeping him by her side instead of slipping behind her as he seems to be attempting to do. It’s only a short walk to the bus stop, and Anita spends most of it avoiding the curious gazes of her neighbours, feeling ashamed despite herself. Clearly they now think her the sort of person to own someone willingly. She wishes for a moment that Theo hadn’t been dropped off at her shelter.

Then she looks at the pet walking beside her, head down, shoulders hunched, and feels a pang of guilt. It’s not his fault.

When they reach the bus stop he kneels in front of her and she reluctantly pulls a leash out of her pocket, Theo bowing to allow her to attach it to his collar. She needs to buy him a more comfortable collar while they’re out today. Pets aren’t allowed out without a collar, so he really needs a more comfortable one than the plastic one he was delivered in. Besides, Theo won’t let Anita take his collar off, even at home.

Anita stands with Theo on the bus, keeping a hand on his arm to hold him steady. His eyes are focused on the floor so Anita can’t see his expression, but he’s trembling. Scared. Anita strokes his hair while the bus is stopped at a red light.

When they exit the bus in the town centre they make their way to the council building, Anita holding Theo’s leash loosely, both their hands covering it. Anita stops in the courtyard just outside.

“It’s okay,” she signs, unsure what other reassurance to give, and mouths slowly, “we’ll be quick.”

“Yes, mistress,” replies Theo quietly.

They enter the building together. The WRU offices are on the top floor, of course, and the lifts are both broken, of course. They make their way upstairs, Anita cursing her luck, pausing frequently so Theo can catch his breath. Finally they make it to the fifth floor.

There’s a receptionist at the desk and Anita and Theo walk up to her. She looks up from her computer as they stop in front of her, Theo immediately kneeling at Anita’s side.

“Welcome to the WRU, how can I help?” the woman asks in a bored voice.

“I’ve come to re-register my pet. I have an appointment at 11 o’clock?”

“What’s your name?”

“Anita Ranjit.”

The woman clicks on her computer a couple of times. “Ah yes. Do you have the paperwork with you?”

Anita swings her rucksack off her back and pulls out the thick stack of forms she’d been given by the shelter Theo had been supposed to go to. “Er, here. This should be everything.”

The woman on the desk flips through the paperwork, and Anita strokes Theo’s hair, trying to calm him. She still doesn’t understand why he needs to be here.

“This all seems to be in order. If you could just leave your pet here, someone will be along to collect it shortly.”

Anita starts, a well of panic opening up inside her. “What do you mean, he has to stay here? Why? How long for?”

“Just half an hour, madam. We need to run through some checks.”

“What for? What happens if I refuse?”

“It’s company policy. Either you consent to the check-up or you don’t see your pet again.”

Anita grits her teeth, looking helplessly at the pet kneeling beside her. “Fine. Just give me a minute to explain.” The woman nods curtly and she crouches down in front of Theo, who watches her closely.

“Stay here for half an hour,” she signs, saying clearly afterwards, “I’ll be back.” His eyes widen and he looks heartbroken. She hates this. He was only abandoned two weeks ago, and for her to leave him, now, in this place... she doesn’t know what he must think.

“It can’t take anything in,” says the receptionist suddenly, as if she’s just remembered.

“Right.” She enunciates clearly to Theo now, accompanying her words with gestures. “I need to take that for now.” Theo hands his bear over with slight reluctance, pleading with his eyes, and she signs an apology, swallowing back more reassurances because everything isn’t okay, he’s not safe, she doesn’t know what’s going to happen in there. All she can promise is that she’ll be back. Instead, she squeezes his hand and runs her other hand through his hair.

Footsteps approach and Anita looks up to see a stony-faced man in a WRU uniform. “We need to take it now.”

Anita pets Theo’s head one last time and stands. “You know he’s profoundly deaf, right? I don’t want him getting in trouble for not listening or anything.”

“Of course not, madam. We have its records.”

“Good.” She forces herself to hand over the leash and clenches her fists, digging her nails into her palm so she doesn’t snatch him back, run after them as they lead him away.

It’s only half an hour. Just half an hour.

“Shouldn’t have filed the paperwork at the WRU if you didn’t want a check-up,” the receptionist says, not entirely without sympathy.

“Wait. I didn’t have to do this?”

“No, dear. You think everyone who takes part in a private sale registers with us? We’d have queues around the block. You can update the details online.” She takes in Anita’s stricken expression. “Someone told you you had to?”

Anita nods. “The shelter. He was delivered to the wrong place, and when I contacted them they said I could have him for free, provided I registered him officially with the WRU within the next few weeks using the paperwork they provided. I didn’t realise that there’d be check-ups.”

“It’s mandatory for shelters. If they’re adopting out a pet they have to check their condition first, for insurance purposes. People sue. Inflict an injury themselves and then claim it was there already, that they were mis-sold. Used to be pretty common.”

“That’s sick.”

“Mm-hmm. I’ll print you out a leaflet about the WRU check-ups if you want to read it.”

“Thanks.” She hovers around the desk awkwardly as the woman clicks a few things, and the printer starts up behind her.

“That your first pet, then?”

“Yes.”

“We have lots of resources on our website, if you need anything. Here.” She hands over the leaflet and gestures towards a set of chairs in the corner. “Take a seat. You can always leave and come back for your pet later, but you don’t seem the type.”

“No. Thank you.” Anita sits down and starts reading the leaflet through carefully.

Most of it is the usual polished WRU spiel, but certain phrases jump out at her. Full physical and behavioural examination... owner details updated... free muzzle for those on our shelter partnership program.

Dear god.

What kind of a world does she live in, Anita wonders, where these things are just an accepted part of everyday life?

_

Theo follows the handler down the corridor, eyes down, hands behind his back. He doesn’t know what’s going to happen but Mistress said she’d be back. He has to believe that. He has to believe that he can continue being Theo, despite the uniform this man is wearing.

The handler leads him into a white-panelled room lit by bright lights with a computer in the corner and drops his leash. He signs for Theo to strip, and once Theo’s divested himself of everything but his collar, the handler attaches his leash to a hook on the wall.

“Position 1,” the handler signs, and Theo spreads his legs so his feet are directly below his hips, back straight, arms held out at 45° angles to his body. The handler nods in approval.

Theo stands perfectly still as the handler examines him, taking photos of his scars and tattoos with a small camera. He tenses when the man’s out of sight, each touch to his back almost making him jump. Then the handler gestures for him to open his mouth.

He has a chipped canine and another tooth missing, and the handler snaps on a pair of nylon gloves, forcing his mouth open wide enough to take photos. Theo doesn’t understand what they’re for, but then, he’s just a dumb pet, he doesn’t need to understand.

Once the examination’s complete, the handler commands Theo through his 25 taught poses, then through the rest of his signs and learned spoken phrases, testing his obedience. Then he signs for him to get into position five.

Theo gets onto his knees, face pressed to the floor, palms resting either side of his head. In this position he has no idea what’s going on, and although he doesn’t need to, it’s up to his owner and handlers what he knows, it still makes his heart pound faster, and he starts trembling, his body defying every attempt to stop it. He didn’t used to tremble, he knows, it started sometime with his previous owners. He hopes that doesn’t stop him going back to Mistress. She probably wants a perfect pet, and he’s picked up many habits over the years that mean he’s not.

Stupid pet. Thinking again. He shouldn’t think, he shouldn’t hope, he just needs to obey. It’s what he was made for. This is why nobody wants him.

A sudden pain hits his back, a sharpness fading quickly to a dull burn. It throbs when Theo’s pulled back to his feet, back straightening as he gets into position 1. It’s a cane stripe, he’s sure of it. It won’t scar, but it’ll hurt for a while.

As it should.

Theo stands perfectly still, watching the handler pick up a handheld scanner and pull his arm out towards him, holding the scanner over the barcode for a few seconds.

He watches as the handler types something into the computer. He’s not sure what, and he’s certainly not curious. Bad pet. What’s that phrase? Curiosity killed the pet. His old Master was fond of it. So he’s certainly not curious.

It’s cold in this room. Colder than he’s been for over a week, but not quite the bone-deep cold he used to feel sometimes, while being punished in his old Master and Mistress’ garage.

After a while, the handler comes back to Theo and unhooks his leash from the wall, signing for him to dress. He does so with relief. He’s being allowed to dress fully again. That means... maybe Mistress wants him back? She wouldn’t want to lose her clothes.

The handler is holding a black leather muzzle and Theo gulps. No. No no no. This is why he doesn’t speak, this is what it gets him, and he’d taken a liberty speaking around Mistress earlier, she clearly doesn’t like it. Bad, stupid pet, nobody likes him speaking and he knows that. He opens his mouth for the smooth, silicon bit, and the strap is fastened behind his head, leather strips just touching his cheek. The handler checks the fit, sliding two fingers under the strap at the back of his head, and even though it obviously isn’t too tight it feels it, claustrophobic and smelly and he’s struggling to breathe. He takes as deep breaths as he can, and isn’t fully aware of his surroundings as he feels a harsh tug on his leash, following it obediently. He realises vaguely that he’s being led back towards the reception area, and although his eyes are cast down he still recognises his Mistress’ boots, kneeling down beside her.

He can stay with her then. He feels a great sense of relief as she hands him back his teddy. He’s not being abandoned today.

_

Anita thought she was prepared to see Theo in a muzzle.

She was wrong. Oh, so very wrong.

After what feels like an eternity, Theo’s led back into the reception by his leash, a thick black muzzle obscuring the lower half of his face. He kneels down beside her and she presses his teddy into his hands, giving him a quick once-over. He doesn’t look physically injured, but he is trembling. It’s probably best to get him out of here first and then take the muzzle off.

She swallows a sob and nods in thanks as the man hands her the paperwork. Oh, god, he looks trapped behind that. Trapped and scared and, as she bends down in front of him and sees his eyes, so damn hopeful, if a little glazed. How he can be hopeful she really doesn’t know, but it makes her feel incredibly guilty.

She signs for him to follow her and holds his leash loosely between their joined hands as he stands, walking with her out of the WRU office and down the stairs. Once they’re outside she leads him around the side of the building to a patch of grass by the river. It’s too small to be called a park, really, but it’ll do, and she sits down, gesturing for Theo to join her. He kneels down in front of her.

“I’m going to take your muzzle off now, sweetheart, is that okay?”

Theo takes a minute to process her words, but then he nods, and she reaches forward, unclasping the thick leather straps behind his head. The muzzle falls off into her hand, and she drops it quickly, noting the thick, spit-covered silicon bit with disgust.

He barely speaks as it is, and he certainly doesn’t bite. Even if you were cruel enough to want to put a pet in a muzzle, why use a bit? It’s just senseless cruelty.

Theo’s eyes are filled with tears as they gradually become more aware. Anita feels a tickle on her own cheek and brushes it, her finger coming away wet. It’s just– it’s so unfair. Theo’s a person, and to treat him the way the WRU do is abhorrent.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’m so sorry,” she says, signing the apology haltingly too so Theo definitely understands it, as he trembles on his knees in front of her. “I didn’t realise they’d do that.” Theo twitches slightly towards her. “Hug?”

Theo nods, and she wraps her arms around him, careful that he can still see her if he looks up, keeping her hands on his back, where he can feel them. She feels her hoodie dampen as he leans against her chest.

She’s prepared to sit there for as long as he needs. Paati won’t mind if they’re a little later home with the shopping than planned.

How’s she supposed to take Theo to the Pet shop to buy a new collar after this, though? Will he be able to stand it?

Or will he think she’s going to muzzle him again? She has no idea what’s available to buy there, but it can’t be good, and Theo would think the worst even if he wasn’t so shaken.

She’ll sit here as long as he needs, though. As long as it takes for him to calm down. It’s all she can do, now. Maybe if she’d known about the check-up earlier, she could’ve found an alternative, or at least prepared him. Maybe if she was smarter about this, if she’d actually researched pet ownership properly after she got Theo...

Maybe, maybe, maybe. She shakes her head. Theo has no use for maybes now.

[slasherhaven]

howdy!¡,,, i love your writing👉👈. are u taking requests? if so could i request a (oddly specific) future s/o that is spared bc when they were unconscious and Luda was singing she called her mama so Luda decided to keep her bc "I've always wanted a girl" and so she finds herself having to interact and introduce herself to Thomas? If not that's okay dw!

Thomas Hewitt X Female Reader

I’ve Always Wanted a Girl

Word count: 2682

Luda May dabbed a cloth against the cut on your forehead, wiping away the blood. You had a pretty nasty fall, hitting your head and knocking yourself unconscious. 

Instead of having Thomas take you straight down to the basement, she asked him to lay you on the couch. You just looked so peaceful in your sleep, so she thought that she could at least take care of you a little while Thomas prepped the basement.

Luda May knew that you couldn’t actually be left alone, in case you woke up and escaped. So, she went about her business, cleaning up the living room. All while humming and singing softly to herself.

Your hearing rang in your ears as your consciousness slowly returned to you, eyes blinking open but vision blurred. You slowly started to process the sound of somebody singing, a blurred figure moving around the room. The song sounded familiar...something your mother used to sing to you as a child.

“Mama?...” you weren’t even aware that you spoke, but the older woman heard you instantly.

Your voice halted Luda May in her tracks, making her turn to you. A small smile formed on her face, well isn’t that sweet?

She walked over to where you lay and sat down beside you. “You’re alright now, Dear” she cooed to you, brushing your hair out of your face. The touch and shushing was comforting in your dizzy state, and it lulled you back to sleep.

Luda May looked up when she heard Thomas enter the room, probably to take you down to the basement. “Leave her be, Tommy” she smiled, earning her a confused head tilt from the large man. “I’ve always wanted a daughter” she confessed, making her intentions known.

Thomas just nodded, accepting her decision. He didn’t mind so much as long as you didn’t harm anyone, but he was sure that Hoyt wouldn’t approve. Though...Luda May would certainly get her way.

“Thomas, be a good boy and take her up to the spare room, will you?” she asked.

Thomas nodded, walking over to you and Luda May stood up. He carefully slipped an arm under your shoulders and another under your knees, lifting you off of the couch and holding you against his chest. He could see what Luda May saw in you, you looked so sweet and peaceful, he just wondered what had happened to make her change her mind so quickly.

Luda May just smoothed a hand over your hair again before letting him carry you up to the small unused bedroom.

Laying you down on the bed, Thomas cautiously pushed some hair out of our face, examining you before pulling his hand away. You were beautiful, even in your state of disarray after everything you had been through that day. There were still the stains of dried tears on your cheeks, but still you looked unrealistically pretty. You were the prettiest, sweetest looking thing in this house, you wouldn’t be a bad addition to the household. At least that’s how Thomas felt while looking at you, before quickly turning on his heel and leaving the room before he caught himself staring too long. 

And that’s the short version of how you became the newest Hewitt. The family was obviously still cautious of you, watching your every move, but they made it clear that you were one of them now. Maybe you just had no backbone or maybe you were a realist, but you accepted your fate with some time and tried to adapt to it. 

Luda May had insisted on you referring to her as “Mama”, and you did to keep the peace, Monty bossed you about most of the time, and you avoided Hoyt as much as you could since he seemed to be the least happy about your presence. Luda May had seemed to take on a motherly role with you, speaking to you as if you were her daughter, asking you to join her with chores and cooking. It had become a little routine for you now.

Then there was Thomas. Luda May had introduced you to him, he had nodded and shook your hand when prompted too. His hand completely engulfed your own, but his hold was surprisingly gentle despite the strength you could feel he possessed. 

He didn’t talk much...ever, actually, and he seemed to avoid you a lot. If you didn’t need to be in the room together, he wouldn’t be there, hiding away somewhere else in the house. Though, when you were in the same room, you could sometimes feel him staring at you. You were sure he didn’t notice it, otherwise he would have surely been more subtle about it. Whenever you looked over and caught him staring, he would stare at the floor or his hands in shame.

Truth be told, you weren’t sure what to make of the large man. He was intimidating and had a threatening stature but he never gave you true reason to fear him. He was quiet and gentle whenever he had to interact with you, he was downright timid, and he seemed to have the same avoidance you had with Hoyt. 

You could tell that he was closer to Luda May, his mother. She had told you the full story of how she became Thomas’ mother, having found him cold and alone as an infant. Thomas hadn’t looked at you while she told the story, like he didn’t want to see your pity.

“Oh Thomas!” you heard Luda May’s concerned voice coming from the entrance of the home, “what have you done?” 

With a small frown, you wandered out of the kitchen to see Luda May fussing over Thomas. He was holding a dirty, blood soaked rag against the palm of his hand. He just shook his head, silently assuring her that he was fine.

“If you’re not going to take care of it, I will. Go to your room, I’ll be up in a moment” spoke like a true mother, you smiled a little bit to yourself. As much as you hated to admit it to yourself, you were an honorary member of this family.

Thomas huffed, making you smile again, before nodding and marching up the stairs.

Luda May muttered to herself, shaking her head as she turned to you. “Oh, Y/n, dear. Come with me” she encouraged, passing you as she walked into the kitchen. You followed behind obediently.

“Thomas has cut open his palm. Probably on one of those cars, they’re death-traps” she told you as she started digging through one of the kitchen cabinets. You decided against pointing out the irony.

“Now I have to convince Hoyt to finish the job” she huffed before turning to you with a box in her hands. “Do you mind taking car of Tommy for me?” she asked, presenting the box, presumably a first aid kit of sorts, to you.

“Oh, I don’t think I know how too” you shook your head, eyes widening slightly.

“You clean the wound, clean it with some alcohol to prevent infection, and wrap it with some bandages” she told you simply.

“What if it needs stitches?” you asked, still not taking the box.

“I taught you to sew, didn’t I?” she asked and you nodded, eyes wide at that being the only qualification you apparently needed. “Thomas will help you with the rest” she assured you before thrusting the box into your hands.

You gripped the box nervously before Luda May left the room. Wandering out of the kitchen, you came to the bottom of the staircase. Walking up the stairs was daunting, you had barely spent any time alone with Thomas, and this was definitely be the longest amount of time you spent directly interacting with him.

Finally, you were standing outside of Thomas’ bedroom. You decided to knock, not wanting to be impolite. You heard movement on the other side of the door before it was pulled open, you had to tilt your head back slightly to look up at Thomas’ face.

His eyes were widened slightly, clearly surprised to see you. “Luda May sent me to look at your hand” you explained, glancing down at his still bleeding hand. Even though Luda May insisted on you referring to her as ‘mama’, you only did so when she was around.

Thomas seemed hesitant but eventually nodded and stepped to the side, allowing you to enter his room. You heard the door close behind you as you quickly glanced around. The room was a little bigger than yours but you wondered if Thomas comfortably lay on the single bed in the room, he seemed a little too big for it even though an average sized man would probably be comfortable in it. It was tidier than you expected it to be, no clothes left out or anything.

You turned back to the man when you hears his footsteps behind you, he was still a few feet away from you.

“Uh...should we sit down?” you asked when he didn’t make any move. 

Thomas nodded before crossing the room to his bed, sitting down on the edge. You walked over and sat down beside him, leaving enough room to place the first aid box on the bed between you both.

“Let me see your hand” you ordered gently. 

Thomas unwrapped the dirty rag from his hand and held it out to you. Carefully, you took hold of his hand in both of yours, turning it slightly to examine the wound. Thomas just watched, noticing how big his hands were compared to yours. He had noticed it when he shook your hand all that time ago but this made it even more oblivious, how you used both of your hands to move and turn it as you pleased. It was cute but the tenderness of your actions was what tugged at his heart the most.

“We should clean away the blood first. I can barely see it” you mumbled, more to yourself than to him. “I’ll go get some water” you suddenly dropped his hand and stood from the bed, with a nervous clumsiness.

You barely looked at him before leaving the room. Thomas shook his head at himself. You were so nervous, even to just be in a room with him. He wished he knew what you were thinking but he was sure that you were afraid of him, probably thinking he would hurt you. He couldn’t blame you. Why wouldn’t you think that? What else could make you so nervous about being near him?

His thought were interrupted by the sound of the door opening and closing, making him look up to see you walking back towards him with a bowl of water and a new cloth.

You sat back on the bed, placing the bowl on top of the box that sat between you both. 

“Hand” you spoke gently, holding your own out. He placed the back of his hand in your palm, growing unsure when he saw you frown. 

You hummed before pushing his hand back again. He was about to insist that he take care of his own wound, it wouldn’t be the first time, but then you pushed the box and the bowl further back onto the bed. He was surprised when you moved to sit closer to him, turning your body to face him and bringing one knee up onto the mattress.

You took hold of his hand again, gently placing it in your lap. He was definitely surprised by your actions but allowed it.

You worked in silence, wetting the cloth and cleaning away the blood from his hand. Thomas watched how intently you worked and how gentle you were being with him, like you were purposely trying not to hurt him.

Once the blood was cleaned up, you placed the bowl and bloody cloth down on the floor and opened the first aid kit. Inside the box was a small bottle of alcohol, a tube of some sort of cream, a fresh cloth, bandages, and the items you would need to apply stitches.

You picked up the bottle of alcohol and the fresh cloth. “This will probably sting” you warned him, looking up at him with genuine concern in your eyes. He just nodded. 

You poured some alcohol onto the cloth before pressing it to his injured hand. He didn’t make a sound of pain or pull away but you did feel him tense even more than he already was. “Sorry” you murmured, making sure to coat the hold wound.

Once you were done with that, you placed the now dirty cloth in the water bowl with the other and closed the bottle before placing it back in the box. 

You looked back at the hand, squinting at it slightly. You weren’t an expert at tending to wounds, you didn’t really know how deep the wound was or if it called for more than bandages.

“...do you think it needs stitches?” you asked, looking up at him again. Looking a little lost at what to do.

Thomas examined his own hand before shaking his head, smiling a little to himself as you let out a sigh of relief. 

You reached back into the box, picking up the tube and smiling as you read the label. “Here, let me put some of this one it” you offered. 

He just nodded, placing his hand back in your lap, allowing you to apply the antibacterial cream to his wound. He needed all the protection he can get with his work conditions.

You continued in silence as you finished and wrapped the bandages around his hand, securing them before packing everything back into the box.

“How does that feel? Too tight?” you asked and he shook his head, assuring you that it was fine. “Don’t forget to change them, alright?” you advised, “oh, and keep it clean.”

Again, he just nodded.

“...did you do this on one of the cars?” he nodded again. “Does that happen a lot?” he nodded again, confused about your questioning.

You just frowned, but you weren’t surprised. You had noticed a lot of little scars on his hands as you worked and the house wasn’t exactly hazard free. “Well, you should be more careful” you put a small smile on your face as you met his gaze again.

“I should go and finish cleaning the kitchen...if you need something, let me know, okay?” your offer seemed sincere enough, so he nodded. You were used to his silence.

You stood and collected the items you had brought in with you, heading for the door. When Thomas realised that your hands were full, he shot from the bed, hurrying over to open the door for you. 

“Thank you” you smiled before leaving the room. “Tommy” his name made him stop closing the door, pulling it fully open again to look at you. You stood in the hallway now, items piled in your hands, a timid look on your face. “We should hang out more, I feel like you keep hiding from me” you let out a shy laugh.

Thomas was stunned. You wanted to spend more time with him? He nodded before he even realised he had. But he was glad he did because it seemed to put a smile on your face before you turned and headed for the stairs. 

As he watched you disappear down the stairs Thomas became aware of a realisation that filled him with shame and dread. There was no way you would be so kind to him, even be in the same room as him, if you knew the way he thought of you, how he felt about you.

It’s why he had avoided you for so long, admired you from a distance. He didn’t want to scare you and he was nervous around you. Ever since the day he carried you up to the spare room, he had been infatuated with you. He had been enraptured by your beauty, and then in awe of your kindness considering your circumstances.

He loved you...

[frozenfischer]

'If that's what it come to.'

The words sent a chill down Alex's spine as she realized that the monster in front of her truly felt this was the only way to make his point, to refuse to back down even in the face of clearly overwhelming odds.

The fact that he seemed rather nonchalant about it didn't exactly soothe any of Alex's concerns, though obviously that wasn't the point here. Dr. Gaster was willing to let his death be a message to his own people, but... she wasn't certain that it was the right message to send, either to the monsters or the humans.

And if he either hurt or killed any of the humans in that mob, Alex knew it would be used against the monsters as a whole. It could set back everything they were trying to achieve.

Book-bag slung around her head and shoulder to rest at her back, she found herself moving to stand between the stage and the door even as the sound of the door opening and the shouts of the mob became muffled no longer. But instead of facing Dr. Gaster, instead she put her back to him, instead turning to face the rushing crowd, arms upraised in a halting gesture.

She didn't exactly know what she was going to do, or really have any hope of stopping the mob, but as she saw someone heft something that looked suspiciously like a brick, she just...

Stopped thinking.

And reacted.

Her magic had gone largely unused in the last ten years. It tended to leave her with no so much in the way of control of what she did, but a whole lot of power to dump into it.

It felt achingly familiar, in ways she didn't have time to process. But unlike the last time her magic tried to do this, she didn't summon a simple inch thick wall of water.

This was a three foot wall of ice, bisecting the lecture hall entirely and thick enough to muffle the shouts of alarm coming from the other side.

She didn't have time to think about what a stupid move that would be. She didn't have time to think about the monster at her back. All she could really do was try and focus, to keep that wall up even as she could feel the people on the other side begin to pound against it, an effort that made her legs buckle and her arms shake.

Keep them back. Keep them away. That was all she could focus on.

"If that's what it comes to."

Though Gaster's back was turned, his voice carried with ease; no hesitation in those simple few words.

Laptop snapped shut, and he held it in his hand a moment longer than necessary, before tucking it away in his bag, which he then proceeded to tuck into his coat, despite, once again, there being no logical means by which it fit in there.

He pivoted back to face her.

"The unfortunate answer to your question is yes, it may very well take something as drastic as my death for my people to finally realize just how drastic the situation is, that they cannot sit down and be polite and that they must fight for the life they want to have.

"Fortunately for both of us, I have no intention of it coming to that.

"It's not me you should be afraid for should the situation escalate."

[are-you-still-writing-that]

Yandere Alphabet: Sakura Haruno

Sakura Haruno

Someone who isn´t afraid to get into petty fights and destroy her own friendships, as long as it gives her a chance to get the affection of the one she adores. Sakura, who was bullied in her childhood, and is generally underestimated by everyone around her. Huh... Sounds promising...

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

Most of the time, she will simply compliment you. Sometimes it´s something awfully specific, where you aren´t quite sure, how she knew it, but you shrug it off most of the time. She will praise you for finishing a task, and will encourage you when you are struggling with something. No matter what her darling does, she wants to support them through it all. When she gets more intense, she isn´t afraid to fight for her darling as well, and realizing that they are struggling with something they can´t simply pull through, will mean that she won´t leave their side. She will be there through it all. Don´t worry, she won´t leave.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

She is a very capable medic, and constantly underestimated as well. She will not mind getting a bit bloody. Everything for her darling. If someone insults you, it will be dealt with. Either she gets into a fistfight with that person in that moment, or she waits patiently, bidding her time till she can get rid of them in peace. It´s so easy. An air-filled syringe, a moment where the patient is left alone, a sudden heart attack, that no one could have predicted. And her darling, well, you will not be bothered again by that person.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

When she abducts you, she is patient. It takes a long time to adjust to new circumstances, and she knows that. Still, her patience isn´t endless, and when aggravated enough there will be one or the other sarcastic comment from her. Shortly after, she will apologize again, admitting that there was no need for being rude. If you stay stubbornly against her, she will frown, but delude herself that you are still unused to the new situation. In the end you have to admit, even when she sometimes snaps at you, her comments aren´t meant to hurt, just to air out some of her frustrations. Most of the time, they don´t even really concern you, or are easily to brush off. She clearly doesn´t want to hurt you.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

There will be some instances, where she will definitely force physical contact with her darling. Holding onto them, even if they continue to struggle, till they finally go limb. It doesn´t matter if you try to pull yourself away, she doesn´t budge on a bit. She will hold you close, and pull you with her. Another thing, that might happen, is that she will absolutely check up on you medically, to see if you are still in good health, without you knowing. There will be pills mixed in your food, when she notices even the slightest ailment. Headaches, a developing fever. It doesn´t matter, she immediately starts to treat it.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

She will tell you a lot about whatever is going through her mind. Even encouraging her darling to have these conservations with her. From old memories she still remembers fondly, to passing thoughts, you will know. She often starts these conversations with you, and so reveals a good amount. It´s her attempt to make her darling trust her quicker. Though, there are still some things she keeps to herself. Especially if she is aware, that knowing these things could be harmful to her darling.

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

Clearly, she muses, you are still overwhelmed by the whole situation. Surely, her darling is simply trying to express their confusing emotions with the simplest response a human has. Violence. She will shrug it off, concluding that this was clearly to be expected, and now simply has to wait it out, till her darling can comprehend their emotions better.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

This isn´t a game for her. Everything she says or does, she means it. For her own peace of mind, she will pretend that her darling is trying to play a game with her. Maybe her darling is just testing her. Seeing how devoted she really is to this relationship. You won´t get away that easily. She will put in her all, to make sure, that she catches you again, and then laugh over the fun game you played with her to build this relationship further. Because you wouldn´t really try to get away, would you?

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

It´s the moment, where you realize that Sakura just murdered someone. She comes back home, silently muttering to herself. Something woke you up, but thinking nothing of it, you simply try to fall back asleep, when you recognize the voice. She is leaning slightly over you, brushing your hair out of your face, as she talks about the lengths she is going for you. You lay there. Still and unmoving and so afraid of what is being said, before her gentle demeanour makes you fall asleep. In the morning, you wake up again. Not sure what was real and what was just a dream.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

Her vision of the future are filled with romantic dates, strolling around the town together, where everybody can see, what a lovely the two of you are. Maybe the two of you could even start a family together? The thought makes her blush, but isn´t really important. The only thing she wants is to be by your side. To love you and be loved by you in return.

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

When someone hits on you, it isn´t really the person she is watching but you, and your reaction determines her response. If the advances are clearly unwanted, she will simply try to get the other to leave. She isn´t above petty insults or flying into a fit of rage, that knocks the other out. If you seem flustered or as if the advance is almost welcome, she will act differently. There won´t be an immediate reaction from her, she will simply try to get you both away quickly. Then she will slowly start to tear down any favourable image you might have had of the person. She will dig up dirty secrets and present them to you with glee. She will completely ruin any positive thoughts about this person, and if she feels vindictive, she might ruin their live entirely. Airing out the secrets for everyone to see.

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

She likes to play the role of devoted girlfriend. Still keeping somewhat her explosive temper, when someone approaches, she focuses a lot more on you. Trying to keep her more violent side far away from you. She does her best to cast herself in any positive light around you. Complimenting you, being helpful and encouraging. This is what she wants to be for her darling. So she makes sure, that you will see her like this.

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

When you catch her interest, nothing really happens that seems important to you. Sakura was someone that had never interacted with you much, but that slowly changes. She will start acknowledging your presence when you are close by, either with a wave or nod. Soon she starts to greet you verbally without fail. This gets her into conversations with her darling, where she can find out more about you. A few gifts are being left for you. Every last one carefully chosen to be something that you mentioned to her. It´s not really a secret who left those for you. This is also where she slowly starts to flirt and gets into the habit of complimenting you. She is trying to make you fall for her, just as she has fallen for you.

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

Admittedly, there is a reason why everyone underestimates her. She acts like a ditz, focusing in conversation on inconsequential things, and never seems to grasp what is at stake. You admit yourself, that you knew that she was academically smart, but otherwise just seemed stupid. To make it short, she isn´t dumb. She knows exactly what she seems like to others. Really, it´s all the better for herself, even. With you, though, she lets the mask slip a little. Manipulative and cunning. Not afraid to get blood on her hands or destroy herself in the process of fighting. You won´t get to see the full extent, but the hint of what she is like, shines through in her actions. Always just enough that you´re still comfortable with her, as the water slowly starts to boil.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

She would suddenly cut back on her supporting self. It seems almost as if she is trying to give you the cold shoulder. She is ignoring you on purpose, limiting your interactions with her, while you also won´t have much of a chance to interact with others. It´s almost disconcerting to you, how that seems nothing like the Sakura you know. She appears so different to you. She will purposefully isolate her darling, when they do something that she doesn´t agree with. Making herself to be the only available option that is left for her darling to take.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

Anything concerning your health will be taken care of by her. She does this even rather early while establishing her relationship with you. At first only checking over your files, till she recommends certain things to you directly. When you get together, that is also the time, where she claims, that it would be no trouble for her to deal with all the medicinal stuff. And in reality, it really isn´t. She takes over that aspect of your life completely, though this also seems where her control ends. She would still like to know some things, when you are out alone, but it isn´t as important as the previous thing. She is good at it, so why shouldn´t do it. It´s only to help you out. No need to worry about all these things.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

She knows that she can wait, and she knows that she has to wait for her darling to get used to everything that will change around them. She knows, that if she throws herself too quickly in some things, they will only end badly. So no matter what happens or what you do, she will force herself to keep being patient. There are very few things that will even make her consider speeding things up a bit, but in the end, she will decide against it. Even you, lashing out, will only be met with a well of patience. She knows exactly what she got herself into, and she will pull through.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

If you leave successfully , Sakura will handle you leaving like a bad breakup. She is inconsolable, as she slowly isolates herself. Unwilling to speak with others as she keeps mostly to herself. She is mourning you, and can´t stop herself from crying. She can´t quite believe that her darling as left her. In the end, she will start to blame herself, it had to be her fault, that they left her behind in the end. It had to be her fault.

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

She is aware, that she needs to let you go outside. The fact, that she takes away something, that her darling might need, makes her so frustrated. This might truly be the only thing, she regrets about the whole thing. Soon, she will need to let you go again. But never permanently , she will get you back soon. She knows, she will.

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

It had always been so easy for her to lose herself completely to one specific thing. She would then for months upon months only focus on that one specific topic. Not able to direct her mind into another direction. Always caught looping back to it in the end. Then she focused on her darling, she focused on you and knew that this was something that would never let her go either. She just can´t help herself, and how could she, when her target was you. How could she have ever stopped herself. She obsessed over her darling, trying to pick them apart completely, while also getting closer to them.

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

She worries, when she notices that you start pulling away from interactions with her. It wouldn´t be that bad, if you had stayed interacting with others, but you seem to isolate yourself. She notices you crying so much more, and soon you´ll find her pushing something to drink in your hands, whenever she can. She tries to soothe you, to hold out against you, when you start screaming. It almost makes her cry to see you like this. She will try what she can, to make your situation better again. Don´t worry. Whispering sweet nothings, she lulls you to sleep.

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

There will be a point, where she realizes, that she can´t keep doing this any more. Her obsession will never quite fade from her mind. But she sees you and knows, that she can´t let herself to this any more. You will be able to break up with her. She will take it badly, and she might never quite leave your life alone, but she will let you go. She is obsessed with you, and not what she would wrap you into.

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

She is obsesses, she is encouraging, and she puts you above it all. If your health starts to decline after getting closer to you, she will try to take care of it, till she realizes that she might be the problem. She puts you above her own needs, and if you need her to be far away from you, then she will comply. It doesn´t mean that she is gone though, only that she keeps out of your sight for as long as she thinks it´s needed. You can exploit, that she cares so much.

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

It isn´t really something, that will happen because she had intended to hurt you. When she hurts you, it will be an accident. The more common thing that you can complain about is, that she grips you too tight as she pulls you closer to her in a forced hug. All her affections come with the reminder, that she could easily break you beyond repair. Don´t worry though, mention it to her, and she will go get you a bruise cream she made.

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

She is obsessed with whatever you do, wants to be near you whenever she can, and strives to be a part of whatever it is you might wanna do in the future. She wants to be by your side, and so she becomes the best possible version of herself whenever you´re close by, warping herself into something, that she knows you will adore. You are everything she can think about. She will go to the very ends of this world for you.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

It takes a while, before she begins to approach you. At first, she decides to only watch you from afar, afraid that her focus will only be temporarily, but when it doesn´t vanish, she starts to plan how to weave herself into your future. So, when she still tries to figure out everything about you, still caught in an obsession that just won´t leave, that is when she decides, that she should finally approach you.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

When she fell for you, she fell for you! She wants you the way you are, she wants to be close to who you are. Seeing you break, would break her in return as well. She is weak to you, and wants to preserve whoever you are. She doesn´t want another version of you, she simply wants you. Seeing you break would be the worst thing, that could happen to her, and so she tries to avoid for as long as she can. If the choice is between breaking you and letting you go, she will let you go.

[greysfall]

My 4444-word review of NEO TWEWY (with personal illustration + heavy spoilers)

My overall critical score for the game is 7.5/10, while my personal enjoyment score is 8.5/10. This review is posted as I have 80% completed the game, got the secret ending and achieved the Angel psychic rank. I’ll first start with the main pros and cons as follows.

PROS:

-        Enjoyable as a whole, still upholding the first game’s spirit in world building and sharing the same backbone - which was mostly revealed in the Secret Reports, it’s impossible to grasp the story without reading them.

-        The new cast and new game is charming in their own way

-        The old cast’s return is one of the biggest highlights for sure, it was fun and impactful. Everyone stays true to themselves and also had their own stories wrapped up nicely.

-        Boss designs are cool, new pins are fun to use and collect

-        The connection between the old and new cast is well written and executed, including but are not limited to the tension between the old and new protagonist, the weird but fun interaction between the 2 Composers, the new friendships revealed and formed

-        Sho being in the main cast is something so uniquely TWEWY and uniquely Sho

-        Still good music

-        Still many fun side quests, some of them really uphold the same quirky spirit of the old game and some are surprisingly touching

-        Many new nice stores and yummy looking foods to explore

-        The map is really easy to memorize for me, it’s fun to travel around the “current” Shibuya to see all the differences compared to the past

-        The social network is crazy and interesting to read through

-        Has an anti-frustration system to help 100% complete the game more easily and earn money faster, so post-game is relatively managable.

-        Overall, I really feel the efforts the team poured into making this as their passion project, not just during the development process but for all the last 14 years. They showed the vision of what they wanted to make, at the same time giving something to both the old as well as new fans.

CONS:

-        The biggest problem with the game is scenario writing. The story is so heavily back-loaded. The director himself thought it would be better to balance out the tension flow by adding more at the beginning but gave in to the scenario writer in the end, probably due to time pressure. This results in an underwhelming execution of characterization and lots of wasted potentials for the first half of the game.  

-        I struggle to view it as a stand-alone game, since the backstory and the old cast both play such an important role in the core of the game. If someone plays this game without having played the OG, they can only enjoy it on surface value at best.

-        The new cast is nice but most of them aren’t quite as intriguing as the old cast, maybe it’s cuz they’re all too nice deep down that they lack a little bit of an edge, of that batshit craziness that everyone in the OG used to have? I think some characters (Fret, Nagi) ended up weaker in terms of characterization because the writer is too afraid of making them unlikeable – which kind of backlashed cuz they only became likable in the most expectable way to cater for a specific group of fans. I would have wished for the other team leaders to be more crazy too, had they not suffered 30+ loops of the Game…

-        The CAMERAWORK IS HELL.

-        Gameplay does get tedious at certain points with all the time travels.

-        Shiba is so badly written as a villain, some Shinjuku characters should be given more screentime cutting into Shiba’s– like Hishima or Kaie or even, Hazuki (though his limited presence also solidified his importance).

-        Some of the main character designs, for example Beat’s hairstyle and his food reactions are hilariously bad. What’s the point of covering up most of his unique facial features?

-        Some of the minor/side characters’ design are too cool for them to have such a small role (eg: Ayano, Eiru). Ryoji did get much screentime but is nowhere as fun as Makoto was.

-        Overall the scope of this game is made a little too big for the team to handle as perfectly as the last game that was very compact, it felt somewhat rushed in development too so the missing pieces are clearly there in the final picture

The entry fee versus paying for it all in the end

An important difference between the Neo game and the original Shibuya game was that the Shibuya rule asked for an entry fee that is the Player’s most important asset, stated as a chance the Composer gives them to reexamine themselves. Meanwhile, the Shinjuku rule neither encourages nor allows personal growth and ultimately aims to erase as many Players as possible. It’s a pity we were never introduced to the full Shinjuku rulebook, as it seems like the system there focuses more on building up power and a grand government to compare with the individuality-driven system of Shibuya.

When you have to compare the new game and the original game (OG), this is an important factor to consider. Also, the OG has a serious storyline running through and through, locked with a different partner/GM creating unique atmosphere for each week and you don’t get to see your old partners again until the end. NEO’s team system does not allow such deep insight and communication between the Players. All of your teammates are always there throughout, the dynamic does change with each new addition but it is not as prominent as a partner change.

Another important factor is how the OG was built from scratch for a new platform as “something no one has ever seen before”, while Neo recycled a lot of old unused ideas from the previous development (check out this interview for more details). The development team for NEO lacks 2 key members and had a change of writer so the final product is not as strongly bound together as the last game.

The new cast is definitely inspired by today’s teenagers (from the view of creators), compared to the old cast they’re more sociable and always seem to take whatever works for them despite feeling unstable inside. They are all innocent and genuinely nice kids, avoiding to hurt each other to a degree that they end up keeping some sort of distance. They’re also unable to communicate at deeper levels, always stagnant at this half-baked stage of equilibrium without any motivation to get to the core of things. That is the cost of entering the game without an entry fee, without even dying or having a reason to be there/to fight seriously. These kids were stolen from the RG into a Game that was decidedly the worst environment for them to change or develop, just wandering around cluelessly to find a way “out” until tragedies started to unfold one by one and they ended up being charged the total sum of the price for their actions – ultimately losing everything in the end.

That is, I believe, a story arc which can resonate more to the youth of today rather than of my generation. If the message of the old game was to “listen”, enjoy life to the fullest and accept to trust others, the message of the new game is to “speak up” from the inside, trying to understand yourself and take actions instead of just going with the flow and finally, to take responsibility for such actions.

If Neku was handpicked by the Composer for being the special one with an all-dense soul to ensure victory of the game then Rindo was just a normal kid chosen out of random by Kubo to be his back-up plan, who just happened to have a high enough imagination to awaken the incredible power from his pin. Rindo was then officially chosen by the Composer as Josh picked up and handed the pin to him again, this time not as Josh’s personal Proxy – but as the Proxy to represent the normal people of Shibuya and via whom he could gamble if humans can fight for their own fate.

The underworld heroine and the hero with little of his own

Shoka is for me a refreshing and layered heroine. She’s the kind of character that took at least 3 trials of creators to form as a complete individual – that included Nomura who gave her the base design and Reaper background, Gen who gave a more cunning touch and the writers who made her English dialogues more punchy. Dishonesty equals “tsundere” is such a cliché, so the English writers tried really hard to avoid that trope in my opinion, while still letting her good intention come through.

She serves as the character who is informed of everything the players should have known, and there was almost nothing she could do about it. Almost. Until she met Rindo.

They were drawn to each other by sharing a state of “not having anything of their own”. They both started out with not being able to truly know themselves, Shoka even hated her RG life but also managed to mature from that stage before Rindo. She must have vibed with Shiki’s love and passion in the Gatto Nero threads, initiating her connection with Shibuya and understanding herself more. With Shoka as Swallow, they were able to open up to each other and offer mental support… but was still not getting to the centre of their problems because for all this time, Shoka could not tell Rindo the most important things about herself.

How did Shoka feel when she met Rindo at the UG? She probably didn’t want to hope that he would live the day until she witnessed the Twisters’ potentials. From the very beginning, they were both incredibly conscious of each other and also constantly frustrated that the person they happened to “notice” was such a condescending bitch/a clueless loser. The Shinjuku Reapers are overall quite drunk in power and uncompassionate to Players, Shoka included. She is also a master of dissociation, which results in her constant boredom, tone swings, haughtiness and subconsciously distancing herself from the friend – the boy she cares about – from false hope, as she judged from facts that it was a hopeless situation where nothing could ever be. Maybe she is naturally a bit of a chameleon just like her name suggests (Shoka 紫陽花 = hydrangea, the color-changing flower), so putting on an act and always dissociating herself from what’s important was easy, while hiding her contradiction was impossible. It was the ex-Reaper Beat who broke it out to her, that she should decide whether she really cared and wanted to do something for a change. He knew how it felt like to cross that line, and knew she wanted to too.  

Shoka is endeared by many of the Shinjuku Reapers and has shown independent acts of kindness (the Shinjuku ghost), proving that her kind and truthful side is as real as her harsh and dishonest side – which makes her a nice mirror to the previous heroine Shiki, who also embraced a dichotomy of self-complex and self-love within her character. In the end, she was the first of the new cast to ultimately accept all that is important to her and independently made the decision to help save Shibuya despite all costs.

She was jealous at Rindo’s interaction with Tsugumi and Kanon but remained silent cuz she wasn’t at a place to have any say about it. She also didn’t reveal about Swallow because that would only add an awkward irrelevance to their current situation, as she was too ready to face erasure at the end of the Game. She only wished to “play a game” with him, be it FanGo or the Reapers’ Game. The tension that the team could only feel at the end, she’s felt it the entire time. The song “DIVIDE” is applicable to not just one bond in the game, but it always makes me think of theirs. There is always a “divide” between her and Rindo throughout the course of their journey, as the living and the dead, as a Player and Reaper, as someone who has a place to return to and someone who doesn’t, someone who knows little but wields too much power and someone who knows a lot despite not being able to do much.

“If only I had the chance to connect with you on the other side

But time goes on, and without us realizing it

The battle is getting heated

Time goes on, and without us realiazing it

Divided again”

To be honest, maybe I didn’t grow any affection for the new main cast from Rindo’s perspective but from Shoka’s. Since I started to sympathize with Shoka, I started to see the boy in a more “real” way. The real Rindo, behind his peaceful façade with others, would lash out on Shoka for her unfairly harsh attitude while none of the others cared. He could also subtly feel that mantle of unspoken secrets from her, her own contradictions, the unresolved chemistry between themselves – and not knowing what to do with it rather than to feel angry with all the unfairness he could not process. (As a Libra too, he’s triggered the most by unfairness!)

It is actually a positive development as he’s at least “reacting” to something strongly now rather than to keep evading his problems. During my replay, I clearly saw the difficult situation Shoka was in, her remaining harshness after the Motoi incident was due to her internal struggle with a mission to save her own life, versus a chance to really be with the team. Her decision was to do both at the risk of losing favour from both sides. Rindo started to accept her layer by layer, as the person who resonated the most to her contradicting nature from the start and knew that via learning her resolve, he has learnt his too.

Later into the game, she even got too much of his attention. Maybe even without knowing she’s Swallow, he’s familiar with her thinking direction and Swallow had always been closer to him than any other friend. It was only after she had to betray her important ones twice that she could start being truly honest. The scene when she died a 2nd time left a strong impression in me, the little reveal let Rindo know that he is also losing Swallow as he’s losing Shoka – and that only death could drive the last secret out of her. Her final “Later, loser” echoed through Rindo as it was the final truth, with only him remaining to hear it: they had actually, already lost everything.

Rindo was the boy who never dared to face all that matters to him until he lost it all, fighting an unfair battle in the faith that they would somehow still win. Shoka was the girl who always knew what was dear to her, but never dared to think she could be together with them ever after and still threw her all into a battle she knew was losing. I think they stir each other on naturally to fill out their gaps, similar to what the Shibuya game partner systerm would have aimed for. The end reward was a little divine intervention to help close up the divide between them once and for all.  

During the game there was not enough space to process anything personal so at the ending when they officially became “friends”, it was an important affirmation of their bond. Some people complained it was friendzoning but it’s not, they just have arrived at the perfect place to start something more. “From now on, we will truly be together” – I read it as that kind of message.  

The heroine from a lost battle, with her story taken away

After reading the secret reports and playing the game to be surprised of how small a role Tsugumi had in the main game despite being the “Hype-chan” thought to be a major character of the next TWEWY installment, many fans would feel sad at a missed opportunity to see the Shinjuku arc in full depiction.

It was shown clearly that, a Shinjuku arc was very carefully planned out and is a vital part of the whole story, yet it could not be made due to various circumstances behind the development scene. I would assume, that the team were not able to make a TWEWY game that ended on a despairing note, but it already happened in their mind, thus becoming a mental burden that forced them to break away from it and started the game anew with NEO. A significant part of NEO became the healing arc for the Shinjuku characters, especially for Tsugumi though I really wished more emphasis should have been placed on her rather than Shiba. We didn’t even get to see her brother – Shinjuku’s Conductor who had a vital role and instead was given the clueless Shiba, who had absolutely no idea what’s going on all the way until the last day in NEO. It’s as if Tsugumi has had her story stolen away from her, because her own battle ended with a saddening loss.

I think every time the game creators look at Tsugumi, they would feel that sadness too. Maybe to them, she is a bigger character than what is seen by the fans, as despite their failed effort to depict her story, she’s lived in their mind for all these years through periods of destruction, healing and rebuild.  Though it is a pity we could not get to experience the full scope of the Shinjuku story, the creators was clear about the place they wished for it to arrive at.    

Individuality, connection and the social network

The team system adapted from Shinjuku rulebook does not allow much room for personal development, as the team dynamic is closer to a work relationship forced to bear results, than a spiritual bond to max out all corners of understanding as found in the partnership system. The old Shibuya system allowed only 1 winner and 1 week limit per game, while the new rule declares for a 1 winning team and only the team at last place will be erased – the other teams will enter another loop. Furthermore, whichever team to challenge the unwinnable Ruinbringers will face the risk of ending up dead last followed by erasure. As a result, the longest-standing teams are most likely not the strongest ever recorded, but the ones who have figured out a strategy to simply survive until something changes, enjoying their newly found social constructs while they are at it. Basically, it is a system to hypnotise players into the illusion that they are still “living”.

Therefore, we as players would not get to the core of each Player individually as fast and directly as we did in the last game. The Twisters were able to stand out not because they’re powerful, they only started to have a real chance after growing enough to each form a meaningful and personal connection to another teammate. It did not come as a team, nor did it intiate from the existing friendship between Rindo and Fret. In fact, I did not find much solidity or anything truly note-worthy about the main team and new characters within themselves until they started clashing with other team members, Reapers and new recruits from week 2 onwards. Rindo found his personal development with Shoka (via a clash with Motoi and pretty much a mini dating sim between them), then via the confrontation of his role with Neku; Fret found his with Kanon then Nagi, the team learned about the real Neku via Beat, Neku entered the UG via Coco’s wish to save Tsugumi… it was not the team but their personal links that empowered them to fight and solve each of their problems.

The other team leaders may have failed because they did not form such personal links, after 30+ hopeless loops Fuya’s team all fell apart to pursue their own interest even at the cost of erasure, Motoi quit his KOL façade to work like a dog for the Reapers (probably to save just his own ass not his team), while Kanon dropped her tricks to find changes via honest cooperation in acceptance of a fair loss. The despairing note in that is huge without making much of a scene because their failure didn’t happen at their best effort to “win”, but in their last attempt to find a way “out”. Even Shiba got his way “out” in the end thanked to his personal friendship with Hishima and Tsugumi.

Something has shifted in the mindset of the game creators in the last 14 years, as both games are about “connection vs individuality” but the last game focuses more on connection between just individuals and this one on the overall network that is formed out of those individual connections.

The introduction of Beat into the main cast was truly the bridge between old and new, they helped each other out in several turns before officially recruiting him. Beat is a character whom a lot of fans including myself have felt somewhat concerned about after Neku disappeared from the RG, so when the new kids welcomed Beat with warm and organic interaction and Beat seemed happy, I started to feel like I wanted to help them out too! I think the overall team chemistry is enjoyable enough for new players, but I could warm up to the new kids more from the pov of a returning character – whom I’m glad to be Beat, as the older brother figure who is genuinely kind, fun, serious and upbeat at the same time; who is needed and needs the kids in return.

The social network is a fun and refreshing feature. You can read all of the crazy tidbits about Shibuya and the links each character have formed with the town people, it’s also fun to visualize how the characters act off screen. Characters’ profiles provide extra insight into their background too, like how it reveals Tsugumi has been friend with Coco during her time in the RG. During the game when not all characters have showed up, you can sometimes guess which empty spot will belong to whom. For example there is a 1 character linking to Neky that is not linked to anyone else, so I could guess that was Joshua, and that another character linking only to Joshua was probably Hazuki, hinting that the 2 Composers are related before either of them even showed up.

Hazuki only showed up for 5 minutes, but his presence is so vital and true to the game that I think he is the most memorable out of the new cast. The two Composers have such an intriguing bond, with their yin/yang or phoenix/dragon themes, opposite color design, the sempai/kouhai tone and the way they keep some sort of distance/work relationship as if it’s mandatory between Higher beings, yet at the same time they can talk so casually because they are truly equal – and different from one another. I have written a separate meta on them here.

Some people pointed out, that all Shinjuku characters’ names and themes are based off Hanafuda cards and the Phoenix in Hanafuda belongs to the Paulownia suit – which is Joshua’s name flower. This is so interesting because it feels like the creators somehow saw it as a sign to interweave the Shibuya and Shinjuku storylines together. Though it doesn’t come out much on the surface, it’s fascinating nonetheless considering both Josh and Haz had at some point interfered with the other town’s affairs.

“Shibuya tour with Haz” was such a special scene, as it happened between 2 characters who do not/no longer have a reason to care about Shibuya, on the subject of what is worth saving about Shibuya. Hazuki carried out the purification of Shinjuku and stepped in to restore Shibuya just as part of his job and unlike Hanekoma or Joshua who both possess profound understanding of humanity, he really didn’t know humans at all. Rindo’s irrational wish invoked in him a sense of curiosity, to try gambling on something irrationally and learning a bit of what his senior have experienced. With all the pieces put together, it provides an overview on Higher beings as a whole, and that Joshua and Hanekoma are really the odd ones out with Hazuki being somewhere in between them and the rest.        

The old friends

It’s easy to have returning characters overshadow the new cast as they have already matured out of their personal story arc and stayed in our hearts for all this time. In the end, I have managed to enjoy both the old and new cast separately and altogether, and they will both find their own place in our memory of this game for the long term.

Sho is truly as crazy as ever, the game wouldn’t be the same if Sho is any less of what he is. Sometimes it doesn’t feel like Neky or Beat is younger than Nagi at all, with moments when it seems like Neky has aged 14 years instead of 3 years. His friendship with Coco surprised me pleasantly, and their interaction together with Beat was fun to watch. Rhyme’s found a new dream and her friendship with Kaie is precious too, especially considering that she can still talk to him online after the game ended. Josh and Neku’s interaction suggested that they have resolved the past and are on equal terms now, they even parted ways in good spirit and I don’t feel any worry about them like I did before.

Neku and Shiki’s reunion scene was beautiful, theirs is such a special bond that it has grown and supported them even without being able to see each other. I am so happy to see them all again and that they stay true to who they are, albeit looking more grown up, cooler and happier than ever before.  

Overall, NEO can’t become a classic on par with the OG, but is definitely a good sequel and a good game in its own rights. I’m happy with whether or not there will be a 3rd game to complete the 3 monkeys theme, but if there will be – I hope the creators can really find the time to learn from the last 2 games and start over with a fresh mindset and strong core.