#death after noon (spoiler talk)

[acourtofquestions]

Kingdom of Ash Chapter 57

Chapter Highlights (most of the chapter is the highlight lol)

An hour before dawn, the keep and two armies beyond it were stirring.

Rowan had barely slept, and instead lain awake beside Aelin, listening to her breathing.

That the rest of them slumbered soundly was testament to their exhaustion, though Lorcan had not found them again. Rowan was willing to bet it was by choice.

It was not fear or anticipation of battle that had kept Rowan up—no, he'd slept well enough during other wars. But rather the fact that his mind would not stop looping him from thought to thought to thought.

He'd seen the numbers camped outside.

Valg, human men loyal to Erawan, some fell beasts, yet nothing like the ilken or the

Wyrdhounds, or even the witches.

Aelin could wipe them away before the sun had fully risen. A few blasts of her power, and that army would be gone.

Yet she had not presented it as an option in their planning last night.

He'd seen the hope shining in the eyes of the people in the keep, the awe of the children as she'd passed. The Fire-Bringer, they'd whispered. Aelin of the Wildfire.

How soon would that awe and hope crumble today when not a spark of that fire was unleashed? How soon would the men's fear turn rank when the Queen of Terrasen did not wipe away Morath's legions?

He hadn't been able to ask her. Had told himself to, had roared at himself to ask these past few weeks, when even their training hadn't summoned an ember.

But he couldn't bring himself to demand why she wouldn't or couldn't use her power, why they had seen or felt nothing of it after those initial few days of freedom. Couldn't ask what Maeve and Cairn had done to possibly make her fear or hate her magic enough that she didn't touch it.

Worry and dread gnawing at him, Rowan slipped from the room, the din of preparations greeting him the moment he entered the hall. A heartbeat later, the door opened behind him, and steps fell into sync with his own, along with a familiar, wicked scent.

"They burned her."

Rowan glanced sidelong at Fenrys. "What?" But Fenrys nodded to a passing healer.

"Cairn—and Maeve, through her orders."

"Why are you telling me this?" Fenrys, blood oath or no, what he'd done for Aelin or no, was not privy to these matters. No, it was between him and his mate, and no one else.

Fenrys threw him a grin that didn't meet his eyes. "You were staring at her half the night. I could see it on your face. You're all thinking it—why doesn't she just burn the enemy to hell?" Rowan aimed for the washing station down the hall. A few soldiers and healers stood along the metal trough, scrubbing their faces to shake the sleep or nerves.

Fenrys said, "He put her in those metal gauntlets. And one time, he heated them over an open brazier. There…" He stumbled for words, and Rowan could barely breathe. "It took the healers two weeks to fix what he did to her hands and wrists. And when she woke up, there was nothing but healed skin. She couldn't tell what had been done and what was a nightmare." Rowan reached for one of the ewers that some of the children refilled every few moments and dumped it over his head. Icy water bit into his skin, drowning out the roaring in his ears.

"Cairn did many things like that." Fenrys took up a ewer himself, and splashed some into his hands before rubbing them over his face.

Rowan's hands shook as he watched the water funnel toward the basin set beneath the trough.

"Your claiming marks, though." Fenrys wiped his face again. "No matter what they did to her, they remained. Longer than any other scar, they stayed."

Yet her neck had been smooth when he'd found her.

Reading that thought, Fenrys said, "The last time they healed her, right before she escaped. That's when they vanished. When Maeve told her that you had gone to Terrasen."

The words hit like a blow. When she had lost hope that he was coming for her. Even the greatest healers in the world hadn't been able to take that from her until then.

Rowan wiped his face on the arm of his jacket. "Why are you telling me this?" he repeated.

Fenrys rose from the trough, drying his face with the same lack of ceremony. "So you can stop wondering what happened. Focus on something else today." The warrior kept pace beside him as they headed for where they'd been told a meager breakfast would be laid out.

"And let her come to you when she's ready."

"She's my mate," Rowan growled. "You think I don't know that?" Fenrys could shove his snout into someone else's business.

Fenrys held up his hands. "You can be brutal, when you want something."

"I'd never force her to tell me anything she wasn't ready to say." It had been their bargain from the start. Part of why he'd fallen in love with her.

He should have known then, during those days in Mistward, when he found himself sharing parts of himself, his history, that he'd never told anyone. When he found himself needing to tell her, in fragments and pieces, yes, but he'd wanted her to know. And Aelin had wanted to hear it. All of it.

They discovered Aelin and Elide already at the buffet table, grim-faced as they plucked up pieces of bread and cheese and dried fruit. No sign of Gavriel or Lorcan.

Rowan came up behind his mate and pressed a kiss to her neck. Right to where his new claiming marks lay.

She hummed, and offered him a bite of the bread she'd already dug into while gathering the rest of her food. He obliged, the bread thick and hearty, then said, "You were asleep when I left a few minutes ago, yet you somehow beat me to the breakfast table." Another kiss to her neck. "Why am I not surprised?"

Elide laughed beside Aelin, piling food onto her own plate. Aelin only elbowed him as he fell into line beside her.

The four of them ate quickly, refilled their waterskins at the fountain in an interior courtyard, and set about finding armor. There was little on the upper levels that was fit for wearing, so they descended into the keep, deeper and deeper, until they came across a locked room.

"Should we, or is it rude?" Aelin mused, peering at the wooden door.

Rowan sent a spear of his wind aiming for the lock and splintered it apart. "Looks like it was already open when we got here," he said mildly.

Aelin gave him a wicked grin, and Fenrys pulled a torch off its bracket in the narrow stone hallway to illuminate the room beyond.

"Well, now we know why the rest of the keep is a piece of shit," Aelin said, surveying the trove. "He's kept all the gold and fun things down here."

Indeed, his mate's idea of fun things was the same as Rowan's: armor and swords, spears and ancient maces.

"He couldn't have distributed this?" Elide frowned at the racks of swords and daggers.

"It's all heirlooms," said Fenrys, approaching one such rack and studying the hilt of a sword. "Ancient, but still good. Really good," he added, pulling a blade from its sheath.

He glanced at Rowan. "This was forged by an Asterion blacksmith."

"From a different age," Rowan mused, marveling at the flawless blade, its impeccable condition. "When Fae were not so feared."

"Are we just going to take it? Without even Chaol's permission?" Elide chewed on her lip.

Aelin snickered. "Let's consider ourselves swords-for-hire. And as such, we have fees that need to be paid." She hefted a round, golden shield, its edges beautifully engraved with a motif of waves. Also Asterion-made, judging by the craftsmanship. Likely for the Lord of Anielle— the Lord of the Silver Lake. "So, we'll take what we're owed for today's battle, and spare His Lordship the task of having to come down here himself."

Gods, he loved her.

Fenrys winked at Elide. "I won't tell if you don't, Lady."

Elide blushed, then waved them onward. "Collect your earnings, then."

Rowan did. He and Fenrys found armor that could fit them—in certain areas. They had to forgo the entire suit, but took pieces to enforce their shoulders, forearms, and shins. Rowan had just finished strapping greaves on his legs when Fenrys said, "We should bring some of this up for Lorcan and Gavriel."

Indeed they should. Rowan eyed other pieces, and began collecting extra daggers and blades, then sections from another suit that might fit Lorcan, Fenrys doing the same for Gavriel.

"You must charge a great deal for your services," Elide muttered. Even while the Lady of Perranth tied a few daggers to her own belt.

"I need some way to pay for my expensive tastes, don't I?" Aelin drawled, weighing a dagger in her hands.

But she hadn't donned any armor yet, and when Rowan gave her an inquiring glance, Aelin jerked her chin toward him. "Head upstairs-track down Lorcan and Gavriel. I'll find you soon."

Her face was unreadable for once. Perhaps she wanted a moment alone before battle. And when Rowan tried to find any words in her eyes, Aelin turned toward the shield she'd claimed. As if contemplating it.

So Rowan and Fenrys headed upstairs, Elide helping to haul their stolen gear. No one stopped them. Not with the sky turning to gray, and soldiers rushing to their positions on the battlements.

Rowan and Fenrys didn't have far to go.

They'd be stationed by the gates at the lower level, where the battering rams might come flying through if Morath got desperate enough.

On the level above them, Chaol sat astride his magnificent black horse, the mare's breath curling from her nostrils. Rowan lifted a hand in greeting, and Chaol saluted back before gazing toward the enemy army.

The khaganate would make the first maneuver, the initial push to get Morath moving.

"I always forget how much I hate this part," Fenrys muttered. "The waiting before it begins."

Rowan grunted his agreement.

Gavriel prowled up to them, Lorcan a dark storm behind him. Rowan wordlessly handed the latter the armor he'd gathered. "Courtesy of the Lord of Anielle." Lorcan gave him a look that said he knew Rowan was full of shit, but began efficiently donning the armor, Gavriel doing the same.

Whether the soldiers around them marked that armor, whether Chaol recognized it, no one said a word.

"Ready now," Chaol called out to the men of his keep.

This would be it—today. Whether that hope remained or fractured.

Already, the awakening sky revealed two siege towers being hauled toward them. Right to the wall. Far closer than Rowan had last noted when flying overhead last night. Morath, it seemed, had not been sleeping, either.

The ruks would remain back with their own army, driving Morath to the keep. To be picked off here, one by one.

"We have minutes until that first tower makes contact with the wall," Gavriel observed. A scan of the battlements, the soldiers atop them, revealed no sign of Aelin. Lorcan indeed muttered, "Someone better tell her to stop primping and get here." Rowan snarled in warning.

"Archers!" Chaol's bellow rang out. Behind them, down the battlements, bows groaned. Fenrys unslung the bow across his back and nocked an arrow into place.

Rowan kept his own bow strapped across his back, the quiver untouched, Gavriel and Lorcan doing the same. No need to waste them on a few soldiers when their aim might be needed with far worse targets later in the day.

But one of them had to be noted felling soldiers. For whatever it would do to rally their spirits. And Fenrys, as fine an archer as Rowan, he'd admit, would do just fine.

Rowan followed the line of Fenrys's arrowhead to where he'd marked one of the bearers of a siege ladder. "Make it impressive," he muttered.

"Mind your own business," Fenrys muttered back, tracking his target with the tip of his arrow as he awaited Chaol's order.

If Aelin didn't arrive within another moment, he'd have to leave the battlements to find her. What in hell had held her up?

Lorcan drew his ancient blade, which Rowan had witnessed felling soldiers in kingdoms far from here, in wars far longer than this one. "They'll head for the gates when that siege tower docks," Lorcan said, glancing from the battlements to the gate a level below, the small bastion of men in front of it. Trees had been felled to prop up the metal doors, but should a solid enough group of enemy soldiers swarm it, they might get those supports and the heavy locks down within minutes. And open the gates to the hordes beyond

"We don't let them get that far," Rowan said, eyeing up the massive tower lumbering closer. Soldiers teemed behind it, waiting to scale its interior. "Chaol brought the tower down the other day without our help. It can happen again."

"Volley!" Chaol's roar echoed off the stones, and arrows sang.

Like a swarm of locusts, they swept upon the soldiers marching below. Fenrys's arrow found its mark with lethal precision.

Within a heartbeat, another was on its tail. A second soldier at the siege ladder fell.

Where the hell was Aelin—

Morath didn't halt. Marched right over the soldiers who fell on their front lines.

The pulse of human fear down the battlements rippled against his skin. The cadre would have to strike fast, and strike well, to shake it away.

The siege tower lumbered closer. One glance from Rowan had him and his friends moving toward the spot it would now undeniably strike upon the battlements. Close enough to the stairs down to the gate. Morath had chosen the location well.

Some of the soldiers they passed were praying, a shuddering push of words into the frigid morning air.

Lorcan said to one of them, "Save your breath for the battle, not the gods."

Rowan shot him a look, but the man, gaping at Lorcan, quieted.

Chaol ordered another volley, and arrows flew, Fenrys firing as he walked. As if he were barely bothered.

Still, the whispered prayers continued down the line, swords shaking along with them.

Up by Chaol, the soldiers held firm, faces solid.

But here, on this level of the battlements ... those faces were pale. Wide-eyed.

"Someone better say something inspiring," Fenrys said through gritted teeth, firing another arrow. "Or these men are going to piss themselves in a minute."

For a minute was all they had left, as the first siege tower inched closer.

"You've got the pretty face," Lorcan retorted. "You'd do a better job of it."

"It's too late for speeches," Rowan cut in before Fenrys could reply. "Better to show them what we can do."

Rowan steadied his breathing, readying his magic to rip through Valg lungs. He'd fell a few with his blades first. To show how easily it could be done, that Morath was desperate and victory would be near. The magic would come later.

The siege tower groaned as it slowed to a stop.

Just as the wall under them shuddered at its impact, Fenrys whispered, "Holy gods."

Not at the bridge that snapped down, soldiers teeming in the dark depths inside.

But at who emerged from the keep archway behind them. What emerged.

Rowan didn't know where to look. At the soldiers pouring out of the siege tower, leaping onto the battlements, or at Aelin.

At the Queen of Terrasen.

She'd found armor below the keep. Beautiful, pale gold armor that gleamed like a summer dawn. Holding back her braided hair, a diadem lay flush against her head. Not a diadem, but a piece of armor. Part of some ancient set for a lady long since buried.

A crown for war, a crown to wear into battle. A crown to lead armies.

There was no fear on her face, no doubt, as Aelin hefted her shield, flipping Goldryn in her hand once before the first of Morath's soldiers was upon her.

A swift, upward strike cleaved the Morath grunt from navel to chin. His black blood sprayed, but she was already moving, flowing like a stream around a rock.

Rowan launched into movement, his blades finding their marks, but still he watched her.

Aelin slammed her shield against an oncoming warrior, Goldryn slicing through another before she plunged the blade into the soldier she'd deflected.

She did it again, and again.

All while heading toward that siege tower. Unhindered. Unleashed.

A call went down the line. The queen has come.

Soldiers waiting their turn whirled toward them. Aelin took on three Valg soldiers and left them dying on the stones.

She planted her line before the gaping maw of that siege tower, right in the path of those teeming hordes. Every moment of the training she'd done on the ship here, on the road, every new blister and callus—all to rebuild herself for this.

The queen has come.

Goldryn unfaltering, her shield an extension of her arm, Aelin glowed like the sun that now broke over the khagan's army as she engaged each soldier that hurtled her way.

Five, ten—she moved and moved and moved, ducking and swiping, shoving and flipping, black blood spraying, her face the portrait of grim, unbreaking will.

"The queen!" the men shouted. "To the queen!"

And as Rowan fought his way closer, as that cry went down the battlements and Anielle men ran to aid her, he realized that Aelin did not need an ounce of flame to inspire men to follow.

That she had been waiting, yanking at the bit, to show them what she, without magic, without any godly power, might do.

He'd never seen such a glorious sight. In every land, every battle, he had never seen anything as glorious as Aelin before the throat of the siege tower, holding the line.

Dawn breaking around them, Rowan loosed a battle cry and tore into Morath.

This first battle would set the tone.

It would set the tone, and send a message.

Not to Morath.

Impress us, Hasar had said.

So she would. So she'd picked the golden armor and her battle-crown. And waited until dawn, until that siege tower slammed into the battlements, before unleashing herself.

To keep the men here from breaking, to wipe away the fear festering in their eyes.

To convince the khaganate royals of what she might do, what she could do. Not a threat, but a reminder.

She was no helpless princess. She had never been.

Goldryn sang with each swipe, her mind as cool and sharp as the blade while she assessed each enemy soldier, their weapons, and took them down accordingly. She dimly knew that Rowan fought at her side, Gavriel and Fenrys battling near her left flank.

But she was keenly aware of the mortal men who leaped into the fray with cries of defiance.

They'd made it this far. They would survive today, too. And the khaganate royals would know it.

Galloping hooves drowned out the battle, and then Chaol was there, sword flashing, driving into the unending tide that rushed from the tower's entrance.

"To Lord Chaol! To the queen!"

How far they both were from Rifthold.

From the assassin and the captain.

Arrows rose from the army beyond the wall, but a wave of icy wind snapped them into splinters before they could find any marks. A dark blur plunged past, and then Lorcan was at the siege tower's mouth, his sword swinging so fast Aelin could barely follow it. He battled his way across the metal bridge of the tower, into the stairwell beyond. Like he'd fight his way down the ramps and onto the battlefield itself. Below, a boom began. Morath had brought in their battering ram.

Aelin smiled grimly. She'd bring them all down. Then Erawan. And then she'd unleash herself upon Maeve.

At the opposite end of the field, the khagan's army pushed, gaining the field step by step.

Not helpless. Not contained. Never again.

Death became a melody in her blood, every movement a dance as the tide of soldiers pouring from the tower slowed. As if Lorcan was indeed forcing his way down the interior.

Those who got past him met her blade, or Rowan's. A flash of gold, and Gavriel had slaughtered his way into the siege tower as well, twin blades a whirlwind.

What Lorcan and the Lion would do upon reaching the bottom, how they'd dislodge the tower, she didn't know. Didn't think about it.

Not from this place of killing and movement, of breath and blood. Of freedom.

Death had been her curse and her gift and her friend for these long, long years. She was happy to greet it again under the golden morning sun.

[nuttersinc]

So, thoughts on a five days Captive Prince marathon reading:

The writing: I hadn't picked this up because I'm not that much into slave fic, but I read some quotes last week and thought: this sounds so good and the writing is brilliant... Let's have a look. Hooked after 1 page, I think. The writing is masterful. Both lush and sparse, light and dense. Achingly beautiful, then simplistic.

What's it about: Starts out like slave fic - Prince gets sold into slavery to the enemy court to serve as bedslave to the enemy Prince - but veers off into a highly convoluted political conspiracy with a million twists and turns. Keeps you entertained until the suspenseful end.

Damen, our hero and POV: at first you think he's a himbo - broad shouldered, strong and tall, very physical with an animal intelligence about him, but if Laurent wasn't there to be the cleverest person in the room, he would be. Strong sense of duty and loyalty and what is right (in his society's limitations), fiercely protective. Tends to mindlessly shed blood if someone he cares about is threatened.

Laurent, the enemy Prince, whose uncle is regent: Laurent is cruel and seems cold hearted. He's a manipulative bitch, and he's always - with one notable acception - the most clever and cunning person in the room. He's a survivor and he does everything it takes. He's usually a step ahead of everyone, planning for contingencies. He's also sassy and talks like he was raised in a brothel, even though he takes noone to his bed. Contrary to Damen who is a fighter with honour, Laurent fights dirty. He's a perfect parcel of deadly and cute.

Some things that I had massive feels about: (Spoilers ahead!!!!)

* the reveal that Laurent knew he was Damianos all along. I squealed. (I mean, he nearly had him flogged to death, and at some point early you realise that Laurent is usually cruel with intention, not with sadism)

* their little adventure in the inn: their roles reversed, Laurent as the pleasure slave, Laurent's helpless giggling as they are pressed up against each other on the balcony, nearly detected, Damen overwhelmed and confused by Laurent's body shaking against him

* all the times Damen stayed, after he realised what was really going on in Vere

* Jokaste and Laurent trying to out bitch each other and being severely unpleasant towards each other

* the renowned veretian cloth merchant imposter thing - fucking hilarious.

* Laurent appointing Damen his captain

* Damen making sure nobody disturbs Laurent when he's in a mood

*Damen being a bitch about being interrupted kissing Laurent, even as they take him away

* Laurent, all hot and bothered, when Damen returns victorious from naked oil wrestling

* Damen, all hot and bothered, when he sees Laurent in a chiton for the first time

* Laurent's smile the morning after

* Damen's smile the morning after Laurent drinks to win over Makedon...

* all the fights and all the softness. Their camraderie 😥😁😍

* so much more, will add later...

[freshbakedbreadstick]

No. 1 Party Anthem - Mikey Berzatto x F!Reader - Chapter Four

Past!Mikey Berzatto x F!Reader

Carmy Berzatto x F!Platonic!Reader

Richie Jerimovich x F!Platonic!Reader

Summary: Old habits (of fleeing) die hard unless, of course, you're forced to face things rather than running from them.

Warnings: All my fics are 18+ regardless of the content. Heavy spoilers. Mentions of death, toxic relationships, grief, angst, strained relationships, minor injuries, arguments/yelling matches, details of anxiety/panic attacks, bad coping mechanisms, mental health issues, running away, Al-Anon, addiction, interventions.

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: Hi besties ! ! ! ! As promised, here’s the next chapter for you all, earlier than planned as a sorry for taking so long ! Life is getting hectic and I'm currently preparing to move into my dorm for this coming school year, hence why I couldn't update with the last chapter earlier . I transferred to a different university than the one I was originally going to so a lot of things are new to me again, but I'm still excited ! ! ! Anyways, get your happy puppy and kitty pictures to look at after this chapter and i hope you all have a wonderful day and wonderful read <3

EDIT: Changed the name used for an added side character to avoid confusion with the name of a character from the show, sorry to those who are named Amanda as that's the name i used as a replacement (:

Taglist: @marysucks-blog @shinebright2000 @jadeittic

Chapter Three / Masterlist / Chapter Five

Your fingers shook around the steering wheel as you pressed on the accelerator harder, making the engine of your old car rumble louder in your ears. It wasn’t loud enough to drown the loud and rapid heartbeat in your ears though.

Luckily for you, it was green light after green light.

You raced home, expecting to come home to a silent house with nobody there to try and talk you out of your decision. After all, it was a weekday and it was past noon, almost everyone in Chicago was either working or in school.

“Pack then leave, pack then leave, pack then leave…” you mumbled to yourself, eyes darting back and forth as you switched lanes to weave in and out of traffic. You were met with angry yells and annoyed honks as you did so, but it didn’t matter to you. You needed to get home. 

Your stuff was shoved in the back seat, half spilled from both you throwing it inside and your reckless driving. After you had the argument with everyone at The Beef, you stormed inside to silently grab your things from your locker and go. Neither Richie, Carmy, nor Sugar said a word to you as you did so, but Tina was the first to call out your name and try to calm you down. She had definitely heard everything that went down outside, those walls were absolutely not sound proof. 

“What the fuck does Carmy know anyways. He’s the one who refused to come back or even reach out at all when Mikey…  fucking hypocrite,” You mumbled to yourself, eyes narrowing and your hand gripping the steering wheel until your fingers hurt. 

Tina, however, anxiously worked at her station, half glancing over to you and half working on her task in the kitchen. You knew that she was split between wanting to reach out to you and wanting to keep going with her work, but you would never make her or anyone else choose, so you chose for her by ignoring her and leaving. 

She and everyone else are better off without you anyways.  

The tires of your car screeched as you swerved into the empty driveway.

“Fuck yes…” you whispered to yourself, skin sweaty as you shoved yourself out of your car. No cars in the driveway means an empty house. You were in the clear. 

As you approached the front door, house keys already in hand, you mumbled out plans to yourself, “Maybe Florida? It’s probably rainy and humid this time of year but if it means getting away from here, I can deal with it…”

The front door swung open before you could finish unlocking it, making you jump and gasp out as you came face to face with your mom.

“Sweetie? Are you okay? What’s going on? Why do you look ill?” You mom rushed out, eyes wide and confused.

“I'm fine Mom but I have to go.” You rushed out, pushing past her to run to the stairs. Your mom let out an unintelligible string of words as you started running to your room, heart pounding as it seemed like your once “foolproof” plan was starting to unravel. 

“Fucking fuck fuck fuck shit!” You mumbled to yourself, spitting out the words harshly as you barged into your room and began pushing things into the boxes and bags you hadn’t yet unpacked.

In your rush to pack, you didn’t hear your mom’s footsteps getting closer nor did you hear what she was saying. 

"Honey, how about you slow down for a second and take a deep breath?" She said, sounding exasperated as she pushed herself over the threshold and into your room.

"Not now mom," You replied, hissing for a brief second as you cut your finger on a sharp edge of a box before continuing to pack. 

"Seriously, I think you should stop for a second and then we can do whatever it is that you want to do, okay?" 

This made you pause. 

"...what?" You blinked, slowly turning to your Mom. 

She smiled at you, but the corners of her eyes didn't crinkle as she did so. You scanned her body, noticing the way her body language indicated that she was fully open and not at all anxious. 

You opened your mouth briefly, before shutting it and complying with her ask. You breathed in for 4 seconds, held it for 7 seconds, and let it go for 8 seconds. In front of you, your Mom beamed at you, but again you noticed how her eyes never once left yours and how they didn't crinkle at the corners like they usually did. 

"Let me help you pack, okay?" She said, voice calm. 

You watched as she moved forward and grabbed a box already full of your stuff before grabbing a smaller box. You continued to watch and followed her as she went down the hall, down the stairs, and out the front door to your car. 

As she placed the box in the car, you turned and bolted. Your feet thumped loudly as you went back up the stairs and you felt your shirt cling onto your sweaty skin. Something was up, you just knew it, and you needed to find out what it was before it was too late. 

But in this moment, the memory of your conversation at The Beef earlier replayed in your head for the 6th time that hour, and your panic settled in once again. 

With two boxes in hand, you started to leave your room to go to the front door, passing your mom who didn't so much as glance at you. Your eyes followed her frame, noting no change in her calm demeanor. 

It frightened you immensely. 

The pit in your stomach gnawed at you as you placed the boxes in the trunk, making you feel like you were going to throw up and pass out at the same time. When you left Mikey's funeral in a rush, your parents followed you. You had insisted on going in separate cars, convincing them that being alone in your car would help you prepare yourself before you went into the funeral home. But they still followed you in their own car, practically tailgating you as you ran through red lights to get home. 

You let out a shaky breath, remembering the way your mother sobbed and tried convincing you not to leave as you packed your car with the few things you were willing to take. Your father tried reasoning with you, eyes filled with tears and voice shaky but stern as he pleaded you to think your decision through. They tried everything, from promising you a vacation to get your mind off everything to threatening you with involuntary inpatient services. But nothing worked, so all they could do was run down the block, following your car as you took off, determined to seek refuge out West. 

Your mom walked around you, placing more boxes in the car with a loud clunk, taking you out of your thoughts. Your head whipped around to see her organizing your boxes.

"There's a couple more things up in your room but I wasn't sure if you wanted to take them." She said, a small smile appearing on her face as she looked over her shoulder at you.

Your eyebrows creased and your chest heaved, feeling disturbed by her overall calm attitude to this situation. She was not at all acting like the way she did the first time, which felt odd considering that you were planning on doing the same exact thing as you did before. You would even dare say that you felt like she was happy you were leaving. 

"Uhm… okay," and with that you took a couple careful steps back to watch her before turning to go back inside. 

'What the fuck is going on?!' You thought to yourself, taking your bottom lip between your teeth to chew on it as you went up the stairs. 

Sure enough, there were some things left in your room aside from the boxes labeled 'The Beef' that you were certainly not going to take. But before you could decide, the sinking feeling hit you. 

Why was your mom home? She should've been at work at this time. While she did take time off to spend with you when you first came home, she had already returned to work a couple days ago. Why did she not continue to question why you were home? You did leave a message explaining where you were before you left so she knew that and she also knew that you planned to stay at The Beef the whole day, so she would probably be confused as to why you came home early and in a rush. Additionally, she seemed okay with your decision to leave which was nothing like her previous attitude. And why the hell was she so calm?!

Then, it clicked. 

Your throat dried up. 

Someone must have told her and now she is planning something. 

You raced down the stairs, hands clammy as you gripped onto the stair railing to launch yourself forward. The only person you knew that would have her number and would be willing to reach out to her about something like this was Sugar. Your legs buckled as you rushed out front, only to see your Mom calmly waiting for you. 

"Oh honey, don't forget your wallet and charger-" She said, perking up when she saw you. 

"What are you planning?" You blurted out, interrupting her. 

Your mom furrowed her brows and tilted her head, "What do you mean?" 

"Why are you letting me go? You're not screaming or yelling and just letting me do this?"

You mom blinked at you, unmoving. It was eerie to see her not react to what you were saying.

After some silence, your mom spoke up, "You're an adult and I respect every decision you will make, regardless if I agree with it or not." 

Your eyes narrowed. Although this didn't seem very far off when it came to the parenting philosophy they raised you with, something about this still made you feel alarmed. 

"How about we stop for ice cream at that creamery we love before you go?" 

There's the catch. 

You visibly tensed your body, "Okay…" 

Something was going to happen to you once you got there, you just knew it, but you were going to make a plan and get the hell out of there. 

With a smile, your mom walked to the passenger's seat of the car, "Go lock up for me, okay? I have my purse in the car already." 

You nodded slowly, jaw locked as you took small steps to the front door. When you finally sat down in the driver's seat, your mom was humming to herself and messing with her hair in the mirror. 

"You're planning something," you announced again, half mumbling. 

Your mom briefly stopped humming to chuckle and shake her head before continuing, seemingly unphased by the way you accused her. But this nagging feeling would not go away, so you did all you could do in that moment: drive. 

You sat on the bench outside of the small old creamery, leg bouncing rapidly. You've been going there with your parents since you were a kid, something that you also included Mikey, Carmy, Richie, and Natalie in when they could join you. You would sometimes sneak away after school together or go after football games, right before it would close at midnight. And here you were, one last time, before you would go to… Florida. 

The sweet cream of the ice cream cone you had in your hand made you hum as you licked it, the flavor exploding over your tongue. It was delectable, after all you got your favorite flavor.

You were going to miss it. 

You mom walked over to the table you sat on, holding her own cup of butterscotch ice cream, before sitting down to join you. The sun was warm and the sky was a bright blue. The overall happy atmosphere of the day didn't seem to quell whatsoever. 

You eyed her carefully for a second but only saw her indulging in her own ice cream. So you looked away and started to plan your trip to… Florida. 

You decided that first, you would drop your mom off at home and tell her what you wanted to say to dad. Then, you would drive to the nearest gas station and fuel up on both gasoline and snacks, maybe get a slurpee from 7/11, and start driving towards St. Louis. You could sleep in your car for the night at a Walmart and then drive to Atlanta the next day. After that, just head straight to Florida, home free!

Your mom cleared your throat to get your attention, making you whip your head around to face her. 

"Oh sweetie, do you mind if I go next door? We got a new tax guy and his office is just next door. I need to drop off some papers so that he can finish prepping our file." As if like magic, your mom pulled out some stapled papers from her purse. 

"When did we get a new tax guy?" 

"Last month, your father wanted to change from using H&R Block because of all the problems we had with them last year so we found this new guy."

You glanced at her, finding her eating her ice cream and looking at you; not a concern or worry was written on her face. Her story did seem to add up, your parents did complain about their tax people so this didn’t seem suspicious. So you, cautiously, nodded. 

She got up and began to walk down the sidewalk, "You can join me if you would like." 

You pursed your lips and took the risk, "Uh… sure." 

The request seemed simple and innocent enough, making your anxiety ease for a second. She might have not gone to work because she had errands to do and the paperwork she held under her arm seemed legit. And as you walked into the building and headed towards the office at the end of the hall, everything actually seemed okay. Maybe she did respect your decision and just wanted to spend some time with you before you left. 

"Give me a second," Your mom said, pausing. 

You crashed into her back, heart racing again as she stopped. But all she did was hand you the papers and turn to walk over to the trash can. 

"Give me your trash," she said, reaching out for you to give her your dirty napkins. 

Complying, you watched her throw the trash away before walking back to you, nodding for you to walk through the door in front of you. 

Inside was a large, empty office. It was bright with the grayish white walls and unfinished concrete floors projecting the light from the large windows everywhere. It made you squint as you moved blindly forward. 

The door behind you clicked at the same time that you blinked, eyes adjusting. There was a small circle of chairs in front of you, some occupied by a few people while others were empty. A couple people were hanging out by what looked to be a snack table and another person was standing by someone, chatting. But when you came in, they all paused to turn to you. 

This was what she was planning. 

Someone in a cardigan and with a gentle smile began approaching you and beside you your mom began to speak, "Sweetie, this is for the best…" 

But her voice faded from your mind as your heavy breaths and fast heartbeat overwhelmed you. You whipped around, stumbling from the speed in which you did so, and crashed into the chest of a tall person who was blocking the door. 

You heaved a breath. 

Behind you, the person in the cardigan spoke, "Hi, I understand this might be confusing and overwhelming but your mom brought you here because she cares about you and your well being. My name is Amanda and I'm more than happy to answer all your questions." 

"What the fuck is this? Is this an intervention? What am I doing here? Why am I here? Mom, why did you take me here?" You rushed out, feeling the room spin and your body get cold as you quickly glanced around the room. 

In an instant, the calm neutral face your mom had fell into one of concern, with her eyes glossy  and eyebrows pressed together, "This is an Al-Anon meeting sweetheart and it's for the best, okay? Just one meeting and then we can go home, alright?" 

Your legs gave out on you. As you collapsed onto the floor, your vision blurred but you could make out the way your mom screamed and rushed forward to grab you. Amanda looked concerned but concentrated, as if she knew exactly what to do, when she got down onto her knees to help you. You could also feel some heavy hands grab onto your shoulders behind you as your vision faded to black.

When you regained consciousness, you felt the wind gently caress your cheeks as it blew by. It felt nice, not feeling sweaty and flushed. But as you blinked your eyes open, you found yourself leaning on your mom, half laid on a bench, outside a building you had no idea about. 

“Hey honey, are you feeling ok?” Your mom said, instantly hugging you against her body as she noticed you beginning to stir. 

“Yea… yea… I'm fine,” you said, your words coming out slurred as you brought yourself up to sit. 

“How are you feeling?” A voice said, behind you and your mom. 

Everything came rushing back as you recognized this voice as Amanda’s voice. 

You stumbled up, making your mom gasp and jump up from her seat. Amanda placed a hand on your mom’s forearm, gently smiling at her. 

“What do you want from me?!” you yelled, feeling anger seep into your skin as soon as you got up and faced her. 

Amanda looked at you, “We are not here to hurt you, take you away, or anything. Your mom brought you here to give you a safe space to talk about Mikey.”

“I don’t need to talk about SHIT!” You heaved, making your mom look away from her, desperately trying to conceal her own anger. 

“We care about you and we believe that you should try this out, just once. You are free to leave if you don’t want to, okay?” Amanda continued, voice soft. 

It made your blood boil. 

With fists clenched, you glared at your mom, “You did all of this, just to trick me into coming here?”

Your mom continued to look away, refusing to look at you. You seethed. 

“You can’t even look at me or respond to me?” 

Amanda shook her head, “I understand your feeling upset and confused right now, considering how your mom brought you here, but your mom only has the best intentions for you in mind. Please, come inside. You don’t have to share anything with the group or even sit with the group. You can stand in the back with your mom and share whenever you would like.”

With a roll of your eyes, you crossed your arms. 

Softly, your mom said your name, “I never expected myself to be a perfect mom, but was willing to die trying just for you. Both your father and I made a pact to do everything we could in order to make sure you had the best life you could live. As you got older and became your own person, it was hard to watch you make mistakes but we knew when to step in and guide you, and when to step back,” her voice cracked and she cleared her throat before continuing, “And watching you be with Mikey, to be happy, was a joy in the beginning… until we saw the cracks forming in your relationship. We did everything we could to help you but nothing worked. I understand you loved him… but sweetie… his addiction hurt you too.”

“Mikey never hurt me!!” you yelled, not even feeling the tears rushing out, “He never once laid a hand on me! He never brought me around that stuff! He never wanted me to suffer!”

“He was unstable!” your mom sobbed, doubling over as the dam of emotions broke for her.

Amanda gently gripped her arms, holding her up. She stared at you with a pained but apologetic expression.

“I know what it’s like to lose someone to addiction. I lost my father when I was 16. I was such a daddy’s girl growing up, so losing him was bad but discovering why I lost him only hours after I did made it worse,” Amanda said, filling the air with something other than cries and sobs. 

You stifled your cries, making them come out as jagged breaths and rough sniffs that made your throat tighten. But you stood your ground, standing tall as your mom tried so hard not to collapse to the ground. 

“You’re not… you're not coping well. I don’t want to lose you too.” your mom managed to get out between sobs, voice small and watery.

A sob escaped, shaking your body and making you stumble. 

“You’re not going to lose me, I swear. I’m okay. I just… I just need some time.” 

[the-ragbros-are-okay]

!! SPOILERS FOR CARIBERT ARCHON QUEST UNDER THE CUT !!

holy. fucking. shit

okay so i did all of it in one go the SECOND the update dropped and first of all???? kaeya actually being somewhat open about his past at dawn winery and talking about sneaking off to sumeru to see if he could find anything about Khaenri'ah,,,

part of me wonders if he was trying to find his way home. that was my first thought, at least

either that or he could've just wanted to investigate the possible remnants of his homeland

also the mental image of crepus traveling to sumeru to drag kaeya back to dawn winery is SO funny omg

anyway. this confirms that as a kid, kaeya was great at hiding and going unnoticed (for a short period of time, at least)

he described it as a "short-lived adventure" as if it was just something he did for fun, but i feel like it was more of a "i don't know where my father went after leaving me here and i know i can't ask for help from anyone around me so i'm going to take matters into my own (tiny) hands and try and get home/learn about home"

also, on that note, kaeya knowing khaenri'ah is near sumeru is...interesting

honestly, just the location is interesting to me

sumeru is, for the most part, surrounded by other nations (liyue, natlan, maybe fontaine? idk i'd need to look at a map) so unless khaenri'ah is west of sumeru, it's somewhat central to the other nations and has gone completely unnoticed since it was destroyed

anyway, back to talking about kaeya

in the weinlesefest, we heard kaeya's father's voice for the first time, and it was the line about kaeya being their nations only hope. however, i guess that line doesn't really affect kaeya in the way we thought it did. while we assumed he was always being torn between mondstadt and khaenri'ah, he was actually starting to think that his father left him there for his own good

honestly, healthy mindset there, king!

anyway after that he says "A happy life sounds good to me, of course. Even if it means being cut off from... certain things."

king. hey. are you talking about being cut off from your birthplace or being disowned by diluc; you gotta give me some direction here. personally, i'm going to assume he's talking about diluc now

kaeya had a very happy life when he was with crepus and diluc, and maybe he's including other people's happiness in his definition of a happy life. he's a people pleaser--if others are happy, so am i--and he thinks diluc is happier without kaeya

also him just saying that alberich is his surname makes me :(

like. listen. i know diluc disowned him so he cant really use the surname ragnvinder. but like cmon :(

and him saying his surname is "probably" the only link to khaenri'ah he has left,,, very interesting

ALSO DAIN???? "...One Death After Noon please, Boss." YOU LITTLE SHIT???? he REALLY just went in there with "i'm going to look you in the eyes, sit at your table, and order your favorite drink from your estranged brother's tavern. just for fun, ofc" like bitch????? omg

the tension between kaeya and dain is...yeesh

anyway. kaeya is the descendant of the abyss order's founder! yippee :) and now that he knows that for sure, there's definitely going to be SOME kind of interesting thought process he has

~~~~~

okay just my thoughts on kaeya for this post but the caribert quest fucked me up omg. like.

okay :)

how am i supposed to live knowing that this man spend SO many years trying to save his son only for it to fail and for him to be buried with a lover

also i love paimon!! she cares for the traveler and it's so sweet i don't get how people don't like her :(

NOT TO MENTION THE PART WITH OUR TWIN

LIKE. WHAT WAS THAT :DDDD

[heckinhacker]

hi so i was wondering if u could do one like “Eric Cartman x Reader - South Park's days are OVER.” but with kyle, like they are the same and everything, idk if u have already done it

Kyle Broflovski x Reader - South Park might be saved, after all??

Which means we get the version where Kyle meets someone similiar to himself! It's like a 'sequel', (but not really, more like an alternative version with same trope) to “Eric Cartman x Reader - South Park's days are OVER.”

Remember that when I write for South Park, they're teenagers at less(16 y/o minimum), adults at most! it's silly i write it every south park post but better safe than sorry~

I gave Kyle green color for easier reading experience in dialogues!

note: color code might be broken because lately tumblr on pc is being silly goofy

Kyle had a great grasp of how fucked up situations in south park are having occurances

Aaand he's pretty aware there will be noone else who understands him.

Or so he thought.

There is a new student announced to be in his class while you all were in 4th grade or so?

And you seemed not too quiet, nor too shy, but surely smart enough not to push yourself into any weird situations.

Teacher sat you both together and Kyle tries to talk you up-

"Hey! I'm Kyle, it's refreshing to have a new face around. Want to play with us on long break?"

It's nice to have a new group to play with, so you agree.

Ah, kids and their not complicated feelings, right? <3

You tag along, and you grew really quickly to dislike Cartman-

It's not hard to hate him he's UNBEARABLE,

Kyle wants to let out his signature "Shut up, fatass!"

but you beat him to it-

"Shut up, fatso, mama did not taught you to behave, or was she absent in your life like yo papa?"

You had NO idea he's fatherless and it made other guys go "OOOHHHH--"

you made yourself an enemy in Cartman,

but an ally in Kyle.

You seemed to have similiar nerdy interests,

From playing Stick of Truth and heroes,

to DnD (that he played online, because not with his group-- but he invited you into his new online session!!)

Beside Terrance and Philip, Kyle also liked that vampire/werewolf series called "Under Devil's grasp" that seemed mostly for girls or boring, yet he liked it in secret and once he caught you watching first episodes, just...because,

and then joined you, for his own re-watch and your first watch, he liked seeing how you reacted

"HOW COULD YOU?" you asked out of sudden once, in a call,

"How could I what?" Kyle asks, having you on speaker while he does his homework.

" YOU KNEW ALL THE TIME THAT BARRY WILL BE KILLED AND YOU DID NOTHING TO WARN ME, I GREW TO LOVE HIM AND NOW HE'S GONE."

"Well, you said no spoilers?"

"KYLE."

He giggles, "Plus he had death flags since always so-"

He's playing, it turns out Barry barely lived and hid for like season and a half to return in dramatical moment that he watched with you and you SCREAMED.

And he has a blast with your reactions <3

And so on, you bond over similiarities,

Over years you put many blood, sweat and tears into your friendship, and you're glued by hip. Kyle won't ever pick between you and Stan who is his closer friend, it would be even cruel to ask.

You two got along decently, good, not badly, but it always seemed you're more closer with Kyle than Stan.

You grew beside each other and your families became one, big family because of how close you've gotten between each other and made them grow closer. (Or not if your relation with them is bad)

No matter your family (or your own) relligion, you spend Hanukkah with Kyle and it's almost a norm of you being around.

Listen, Ike? Absolutely adores you. Kyle sometimes has a laugh your'e more of an older sibling than he is.

(Absolute bull, we all know Ike loves Kyle the most <3)

Kyle's family wanted to make little ride to nearest amusement park

Of course they suggested you go too! You're a part of the family already <3

You have the fun of your lives, all of you. Kyle's parents mostly chill around but you, Kyle and Ike are using all the activities possible while you can, stuffing yourselves with snacks and sweets.

Bad idea, if you'd ask me

You went to roller coaster and none of you paid no mind in that choice,

but Kyle's stomach DID pay a mind

Especially in a middle where he felt like throwing out

And hell, he did! But he took out his hat and puked int oit so noone got blessed with mix of dinner and snacks.

He was almost carried out of the roller coaster by you--

You decided to go to ferris wheel and call it after a day.

They were two-people cabin on the wheel, so Ike let you two have one while he went with some other random kid.

Ike is your biggest wingman, he did that on purpose of course. Little guy <3

When you're up high, alone, with Kyle, having option to look at all the view, you can't help but to look at little buildings under you, and then to take a peak at Kyle.

Oh boy, were you surprised when you met his gaze-

He blushed furiously and muttered "Sorry- Uh- did not mean to stare."

Of course - you did not mind, but that was SURPRISING.

You did not bother him about it though. Whatever he had in mind - nothing, or something, he will come around.

But you might've realised that you DO have feelings towards your childhood best friend. For sure.

You remember how I mentioned your shared liked series with Kyle, "Under Devil's grasp" ? Soo...

Imagine it was near end, and studio decided to make finale into movie, two and half hour long one.

It's a series you two follow since you were kids, OF COURSE you have to be there in the cinema.

You ride with Kyle to big city, with his freshly acquired driver license and shitty car of his.

You enjoy your WHOLE drive there, time spent in bigger city, it all was just amazing.

Series, even though it was mostly about vampires and werewolves, was called "Under Devil's grasp" and it's very questionable, for years there were just theories, yet the movie after all those years of content literally ended with said title as last words.

Y'all were crying already enough but it was such a HIT in the face

When you walked out of cinema you whipped your tears out of your eyes, so did Kyle, as you giggled and gushed about the ending of your beloved series.

Ride home was mixed, going from peaceful to chaotic, just atosphere was...magical. Lights of highway, music blasting loudly and Kyle jamming to it, while you take a glance with full adoration at him.

You sing a little, then you rest and sooner than later end up in South Park.

Kyle drives to your house first to drop you off, walks out of car to walk you to your door, and gazes at you.

"Thank you...for today. I had fun! I hope you did too."

"I did, you kidding me? Thanks for even offering. I...really appreciate it."

Kyle seems to hesitate, and then sighs deeply.

"...I love you."

" Yeah, good night to you too man- oh wait what the fuck-??"

"I...wanted to say so, and today's spent time with you made me realise I'd hate you to spend the day out of South Park with someone else. I'd hate for you to have late-night drives with somebody else, I'd hate to see you happy with somebody else because...well, I wish you stayed with me. Of course I mean- have fun with others, I just...I wish you'd keep your heart on my hands. It's fine if you'd prefer to stay friends, I hope it doesn't break our friendship. But I uh...I wanted to let you know."

...that was...a lot. Wow."

He thinks it's a rejection, but...

It's not, really

You grab his cheeks and kiss him before he can get into tangent of self-doubt.

Then smile at him,

and say:

"Information saved. Let's grab something to eat tommorow together too, alright, boyfriend?"

You smile and wave him away goodnight and closed your door.

...

"...boyfriend?"

He's so giddy pls <3

Other's reactions:

Ike:

FUCKING FINALLY 2: ELECTRIC BOOGALO.

My little dude was waiting for the moment you hold hands and kiss each other already for TOO LONG

I mean, don't kiss too much in front of him he'd gag, it's still his older brother we're talking about

but at least Kyle pinning over you days are OVER.

He congratulates you and gives you gift cards of "congratulations on marriage!" drew with crayons and pencils

My man Ike is an anime fan, he made you badass gift card <3

Stan:

Not surprised but surprised at the same time.

He's second biggest fan, first being Ike

He learned the news from Kyle himself the same night you became a thing, later Ike hit him up because he was excited BSHSH

He hears Kyle out and congratulates him A LOT

Kenny:

He kind off knew? everyone kind off knew but he was sure you were already dating so...

news were shocking because

"Weren't you dating already? damn-"

he was sure you're married and expecting a kid/j

he doesn't have strong reaction because, as I said, it's not much of a news for him not going to lie

Cartman:

He always tried taking away whatever Kyle loved the most

So he's salty he failed this time

He always makes you both miserable, with slightest show of affection he is making big clown show out of it

Enough that just guys ask you to STOP with PDA because Cartman is being fucking annoying

He's just that salty single friend man for sure <3

Lemme be honest, it's not one of my best works, but I have (I am in a middle of...) 9 days streak of work straight, I am exhausted beyond human belief, but maybe because my ability to hold my ground is shitty, thanks depreshon--

So yes, It's not my best piece, but it was pretty much expected, so :>

I wanted to tag @bath1lda because of "kyle kyle" spam ask hehe- I hope you, and everyone else who read it, a nice "have a good read" :>

[ukranianacearo]

Hii! I've never done a request b4 so I'll try my best. Could you do DtK with a non binary person (they/them pronouns) who is very socially contemplative and justice oriented. Like writing out charts explaining how misogyny gets fueled and possible solutions, while also going on long winded explanations of the psychological foundations of oppression.

If it's too much don't worry about it. ^^ (Sorry if there are any spelling errors)

-I hope you have a very lovely day/noon/night! Also... Stay hydrated!!

Similar minds

Non binary!reader

Tw: a little spoiler at the end

Pairing: Death, the Kid x Non binary!Reader

Synopsis: Death, the kid has a partner? Wait, they're also into justice?

Genre: fluff, I guess

Author's note: Hii, yes, thank you for your request. Don't worry, your request is good. This is more of headcanons of what you requested, so I'm sorry if you wanted one shot! I hope you like it and there might be spelling errors, I didn't proofread this. More under cut!!

---------------------------------------

✾ | I'm sure that your sense of justice was something that got his attention in the first place

✾ | Kid is very serious about the balance of everything, so I'm sure he would sit through your presentations

✾ | He might ask or add more to the discussion

✾ | Being so serious about the topic, you have earned a lot of funny stares, to the point that it's almost daily occurrence.

✾ | The first time Kid heard someone trash talking about you, he was a little bit surprised

✾ | He may or may not say something to the people who talk bad about you

✾ | "How dare you talk like that about them, when you..." and so on

✾ | You two became friends really fast

✾ | I'm sure that he talks to his dad about you from time to time

✾ | Liz and Patty also become your friends

✾ | It takes some time for him to fall in love and if you didn't ask him out, he would take some time to ask you

✾ | He would want to be sure that you like him too

✾ | After that, he would prepare a speech and memorise it

✾ | If you accept him, he wouldn't change much

✾ | pda is still not his favourite thing, but he doesn't mind hand holding and maybe his hand on your back

✾ | He already was visiting most of your presentations/discussions, so now he tries to be on even more of them, if his schedule allowes him

✾ | You would need to have some patience with this boy, especially when he starts thinking that something isn't symmetrical or balanced

✾ | He would appreciate a lot if you reassured him patiently

✾ | Please don't die, he wouldn't be able to compose himself that easily if both you and his dad are dead

----------------------------------------------------------

That's it, I hope you like it :D also, does anyone remember when Kid was kidnapped and while saving him, everyone got reversed to the opposite gender? What would happen to non binary reader if they went to save him too? Because, since they're non binary the opposite is binary, but like, ?? I don't know, something I was thinking after writing this

[prawndip]

Familiar Gifts

CHARACTERS: Kaeya, Kaveh x gn!reader

TAGS: secret admirer, pining, friends to lovers (kinda sorta?), reader is a bartender (kaeya), slight 3.4 spoilers (kaveh)

SYNOPSIS: although their secret admirer is just that, a secret, they can’t help but find familiarity in the gifts they’ve received.

WORD COUNT: 2 028 in total, 1 014 on average

NOTES: spedran kaveh's when his drip marketing dropped after I sat on this for way too long (blows up schoolwork with my mind). was gonna do more characters then was like I wanna post this BEFORE the end of feburary yknow? this is not that good I humbly apologize in advance.

KAEYA:

kaeya enters his office at the knights of favonius headquarters to find a box of cookies on his desk. they're freshly baked, he figures, judging by the delicious smell that has filled his office. the box is decorated in a way that makes him think he has a secret admirer on his hands. hm, he thinks, now this is a first. most people who profess their love just do it to his face.

he seems to be unable to get any work done that day when all he can think about is how delicious those cookies smell, and he can't help but take one out to eat while looking at the paperwork in front of him.

so he figures he should ask jean, who would most certainly be aware of who enters and exits the headquarters. however he was met with the most peculiar answer! jean, who shakes her head and sputters out that she heard someone enter and exit, but wasn't sure who, nor did she bother to check when she was drowning in paperwork of her own. kaeya wonders when he should tell her she's a bad liar when it counts. for the time being, he believes her.

the next day, he finds freshly baked bread. on the third, he finds a pie. and both times, master jean claims to have not seen anyone. now he thinks he's starting to find a familiar pattern. the baked goods were warm, sweet in his mouth. the taste reminded him of someone he knows.

when he goes to the tavern later that night, he's delighted to find that you, his best friend, is working behind the counter tonight. you, who is capable of mixing his drink just how he wanted it, with absolute perfection. as a frequesnt customer, the two of you have become quite good friends. today he decides to have something different as he stews over his latest admirer from the shadows.

"Say, why don't you make me a... fruity cocktail tonight? Extra sugar, please." Kaeya leans his elbows against the countertop, sliding over the mora needed to pay for the drink. He absolutely adores the way you give him a strange look at his request.

"Huh? what happened to your Death After Noon?" despite your confusion, you start making him the drink regardless, before letting out a mock gasp. "Don't tell me... You're brooding over something that's been on your mind all day, and now you've come to me to tell me all about it?"

Busted. Kaeya always ordered a fruity cocktail as a secret code for I've been thinking about this thing all day. Can you help me? Of course, you were more than happy to help him out. He was your friend!

"So, how can I help you out?"

That's how Kaeya started explaining to you the mysterious guest who visits the Knights of Favonius Headquarters as you finish prepping his drink. He tells you how someone has been dropping off gifts in his office. He watches your facial expression very carefully as he talks, the way you make his drink with a forced concentration. When you slide the drink over to him, you do so without making eye contact. When you go take someone else's order in the middle of his tangent, Kaeya notes the way your eyes linger on his figure for just a moment too long before fully averting your attention. Even then, he notices the way your eyes occasionally flicker back to him as you make the other man's drink.

When you return, you realize Kaeya never stopped looking at you. "Um.. You're staring. Is everything okay?"

"It's nothing. It's just..." You're just so beautiful, Kaeya thinks to himself, but the words dies on his tongue. "Nevermind. Besides, Master Jean is such a horrible liar when it counts, so I'm sure she knows exactly who's been sending gifts into my office..."

He takes a sip of your drink as he continues to talk. It's sweet, warm, just like a certain someone he knew. If he didn't have his answer about how the two of you felt right there and then right there and then, then he might as well as retire from being the Calvary Captain.

"Say, why don't you help me confront Master Jean tomorrow morning? With enough pressure, I'm sure we can get her to spill the beans." he suggests, a mischievous gleam in his eyes, and you agree to at least come along.

Though you never get the chance to confront Jean about something you were telling her about, because the following morning, you find a box at your doorstep. Elegantly wrapped, you open it to find a bottle of wine and a note.

Looks like Lisa convinced Master Jean to take a day off, so there's no need to go bother her about any secret admirers, not when mine was the one serving me a drink last night. Say, why don't we get dinner together? It'll be my treat after all the effort you went to get such wonderful gifts for me. I didn't realize you were so good at baking.

We can even call it a first date! Isn't that right, secret admirer?

~ Kaeya

Your heart races as you read the letter, hastily bringing the box inside before preparing the gift you were going to bring Kaeya on the fourth day, your own bottle of the most exquisite wine. Too bad he figured everything out before you could give it to him as his secret admirer.

No stone is ever left unturned when it comes to the Calvary Captain and the things he cares about.

KAVEH:

a bouquet of flowers shows up at the door step to alhaitham's house. because of alhaitham's increasing as the (soon to be resigning) acting grand sage, it's almost always for alhaitham keyword: almost.

"what? the acting grand sage has another secret admirer?" "actually, this one's for you." "it's funny. do you think they know you just put them on the kitchen table for me to- wait, what?"

he practically flies off the couch to snatch the bouquet from alhaitham's hands, beginning to inspect the bouquet closely. the flowers were perfectly arranged. there weren't so many that they felt cluttered, but also not enough where the bouquet felt empty. the flowers perfectly complimented each other in colour and shape. it's kaveh's architectural dream in flower form!

he can't help but feel something neg him in the back of his mind, a nagging, persistant feeling that

“It wasn’t me,” Alhaitham is not sure which is better: Kaveh on a normal day, or Kaveh in distress over a secret admirer. “Besides, you’ve been given flowers before in the past, so what’s so different about them now?”

“You don’t understand, Alhaitham!” Kaveh had been inspecting the bouquet for any sort of name or symbol that would point him to someone, anyone, who may be the sender of this marvelous gift. At some point he had given up, placing the entire bouquet in a vase with some water and admiring it in the kitchen. He’s keeping the bouquet alive for as long as he can, and he thanks the archons for being given a vision of Dendro over the other six elements. “Whoever sent this bouquet has though carefully about the placement and colour of every flower, so that it’s all one cohesive bouquet without anything being too much or too little. Do you know how hard it is to come across flower arrangements like his these days- Hey! Don’t ask questions and then ignore me when you can an answer!”

With Alhaitham turning in his soundproof earpieces and retreating back to his room, Kaveh was left staring at a bunch of flowers perfectly arranged within the vase. Karen didn’t dare undo the ribbon that held the flowers together, lest he ruin the beauty in its structure with his carelessness. How kind of his secret admirer, to arrange something a beautiful as this, let alone drop it off at the doorstep-

That's when it hits him. How did his admirer know he lives with Alhaitham? He’s left thinking about it. Did they already know? If not they must have asked someone close to him about his whereabouts. Or maybe Alhaitham was right in saying he’s too much of a lightweight at the tavern?

This someone must know him very well, right? What's with that feeling bothering him in the back of his mind?

“Are you still gawking at those flowers?” Kaveh is surprised to hear Alhaitham, the scribe having left his room to grab an apple off the kitchen counter, his eyes narrowed as he looked at his roommate unimpressed. “You’re not going to figure out who it is from just a bouquet of flowers alone.”

As quick as he came, Alhaitham was gone, leaving Kaveh in a stunned silence at the kitchen table. Alhaitham is blunt, straight to the point, suually in an irritating way, but as much as Kaveh hates to admit it, Alhaitham is usually right.

That’s how Kaveh found himself wandering through the marketplace in Sumeru City the very next day. It’s not that he would be buying anything, but he liked to admire people’s handmade crafts or smell the delicious food coming from their stalls. Despite all that, Kaveh finds himself lost in thought again, before his body collides with someone on the street.

"Gah! Kaveh! Are you ok?" He finds himself staring at you, who had grabbed him by the shoulders as a means of steadying him before he fell over. You, one of the Akademiya's best alumni, and someone he's gotten to know briefly during your years as a student. "What's wrong? You looked lost of thought before you ran head first into me."

"I'm fine. It's just..." It hits the architect why he had been feeling so off about the secret admirer despite the attention to detail in the gift attached. It's because he's already in love with you, and had he not been swamped with debt and his work as an architect, he might have expressed his feelings sooner. But people keep confessing their love to him behind gifts, and it brewed feelings of doubts in his heart.

He takes a deep breath. "Okay. I have another secret admirer."

Kaveh sees the ways your expression flickers into something unreadable for a brief moment, before turning into hat of surprise. it almost makes him want to take back what he just said.

"Another one?" you let out an amused huff. "Seriously, between you and Alhaitham the two of you get enough gifts to be able sustain yourselves!"

"Come on! We don't get that many!" Kaveh laughs back, lightly punching you in the arm. "Besides. They were just flowers. Really, really pretty flowers I have to admit. Whoever sent them must know me really well, haha..."

He chews on those words as he speaks them, for as pretty as those flowers were, there wasn't a lot he could do with them when his heart was ready to be given to someone else.

That is until he catches the look on your face. A combination of dumbfounded and a little bit flustered, he seemed to have caught you gaping at him, and his expression changes inot that of wonder and realization.

So the one who gave him those flowers was...?

"Uh. I've got somewhere I need to be. I'll see you around!" You say in a hurry, sprinting past Kaveh in an attempt to hide your raging blush the best you could.

For the second time, Kaveh was left in the dust, standing in the middle of the marketplace. That was when he noticed two things. The first was that you were hiding a nice bag behind your back the entire interaction, as if it was something Kaveh did not need to see.

The second thing was the direction of your clumsy sprinting. It was towards the direction of Alhaitham's house, Kaveh's current place of residense.

He stifles a warm laugh that threatened to escape him. Today he'll buy the nicest (but cheapest) flowers he could find, and tomorrow he'll give them to you.

In person, of course.

[rishiguro]

LONELY - A. KAEYA

a/n: inspired by kaeya‘s part in this and my need to make him suffer even more; don’t be mistaken, “reader” is only mentioned/talked about in this one, this focuses more on kaeya & diluc; did fuck around and cross post to ao3

warnings: mentioned/implied major character death; alcohol consumption and being drunk. vague (?) spoilers (?) for kaeya and diluc’s past; 2k of angst because i love making them suffer

it wasn’t a rare sight to see kaeya sitting at the bar, a glass of the famous ‘death after noon’ in hand that almost seemed to empty itself only to be replaced with a new, full one. and while he usually wasn’t particularly picky about which tavern he‘d drink in, lately the cavalry captain found himself steering towards the angel‘s share more often, much to a certain person‘s disdain.

kaeya didn’t notice how during the evening the bartender’s eyes shifted towards him more than usual, how he seemed to stand so much closer to him than he usually would. and the tall male most certainly didn’t notice how the empty glasses seemed to pile up, the pile only growing steadily.

it was already late, the sun hid behind the mountains long hours ago and the last guests were about to leave the tavern. not like kaeya would notice this though. he was too immersed in his thoughts, every few minutes downing the drink in his hand before demanding another.

the silence between the two brothers was almost deafening when the door shut behind the last few guests, the bartender nodding at them before turning to his last customer.

“don’t you think you had enough already?” diluc commented dryly, drying one of the many glasses he had washed already.

he was used to kaeya coming by every few days, drinking into the deep hours of the night while rambling about whatever he had in mind, effectively talking the red haired man’s ear off. but lately, something had changed.

he came by more often, the very few visits every two weeks or so turning into every other day. and each of those visits were growing longer too, sometimes even staying so long that diluc had to kick the drunken cavalry captain out.

and he was fine with it. sure, he would prefer if kaeya wouldn’t stay for as long as he did, he would prefer if he could survive one evening without having his ear talked off but it still meant business — and very good business at that.

yet there was something that bothered diluc about his visits lately. he didn’t really know what it was, all he had was an uneasy feeling in his stomach whenever he saw the amounts of alcohol consumed by the tanned captain, or when he noticed how his shoulders slumped after a couple of glasses or when he realized that half an hour has passed and the man didn’t try to bother him even once.

diluc told himself repeatedly that he didn’t care what was going on or what may have happened, swearing to himself that his discomfort was only imaginary, or simply only based on basic decency.

“no,” kaeya curtly replied, sliding the now empty glass over the counter, “‘nother one”

diluc sighed, shaking his head. “i don’t think so”

“i didn’t ask for your opinion” kaeya’s words were slurred, barely understandable at this point and he too shook his head. “‘nother one”

the bartender narrowed his eyes at his last remaining customer before simply turning away, ignoring the request.

“you heard me,” the cavalry captain stated, stumbling over his words before he hiccuped. “‘nother one”

“and i said no,” diluc replied curtly, not even bothering to turn around and face the drunk man, instead turning to the bottles on the shelves behind him, carefully adjusting them to properly display the logo on them. “you clearly had enough. i don’t want to be responsible for you getting alcohol poisoning”

kaeya rested his flushed face on his hand, fingertips dancing over the rim of one of the emptied glasses. “don’t care,” he said, lifting the glass and tapping it on the counter impatiently. “‘nother one”

the red haired man sighed again, shutting his eyes as he took a moment for himself. he knew that no matter what he said or did, kaeya wouldn’t back down, maybe even going to far as to try to steal a bottle behind his back. sure, he might have not done it yet, but it’s not like nobody has tried to do that before when the bartender refused his service for one reason or another.

a big part of him just wanted to kick the drunken out. it was already late and in just a couple of hours he would have to get up and start his work again. the captain had already cost him as much time as he brought him mora today, even more given the glasses he needed to clean before he could truly rest. how stressful.

still, there was something stopping him from simply grabbing him by the shoulders and shoving him out of the tavern and shutting the blue haired man out, no matter how much he wanted to.

“do you even know how many glasses you’ve downed already?” diluc tried again, rolling his eyes before he turned around to face kaeya again, “seriously, what is wrong with you?”

diluc got ready to close up and kick the drunken man out, yet he stopped once he actually laid eyes on him. the cavalry captain laid flat on the counter, face hidden in his arms. the red haired man stared at the him for a couple of seconds before approaching him.

reaching out to touch him — did he seriously just fall asleep? what would diluc do then? he couldn’t leave him there, he would steal all his liquor in the morning — he raised gis voice slightly: “are you listening to me? oi, i’m talking to you”

much to his surprise, kaeya muffled some sort of confirmation before raising his head to look at the red haired man. the bartender’s eyes went wide for a second as he finally took a proper look at his customer.

tears ran over his flushed face, yet there was still a dopey smile etched on his lips. “‘m listening,” he repeated himself, hiccuping, “i jus’ don’ care. if you’re gonna kick me ou’ might as well gimme a bottle to walk me home” he giggled, hiding his grin behind his hand.

diluc furrowed his eyes as the blue haired man stifled a laugh, not understanding what should be so funny about his statement. “maybe i should,” he muttered, more to himself than to the drunk captain as he grabbed a new glass and started to polish it. “it’s about time you get the fuck out of here”

“you really know how to crush a man’s sprit, ‘luc,” kaeya mumbled drunkenly, disapprovingly shaking his head, “i kno’ you hate me but you don’ have t’be so rude about it, y’know?”

diluc furrowed his brows, his busy hands halting in shock for a second. “what did you just say?”

hate him? it was no secret that diluc harbored some rather strong feelings towards the cavalry captain, but the man wouldn’t have used the word ‘hate’ to describe them. disdain, maybe. disappointment. hurt. but hate?

“kaeya,” he tried again, pressing the name through his clenched teeth.

it wasn’t like diluc was uncomfortable with the word ‘hate’, quite the obvious. he knew hate, the ugly loathing against something, against someone — and maybe it used to be true. there was a time where he hated the blue haired man, a time where the mere thought of his name and face disgusted him. where his loathing was so intense, he would have done anything for it to stop.

but this was a long time ago. back when he was younger, filled with grief and disappointment. when he felt lonely, left behind in a big world with no one left by his side.

hate? no. anger, maybe. but not hate.

“you kno’ what i said,” the drunken mumbled, a frown etched on his face.

“and you don’t know what you’re talking about,” the red haired man shot back immediately, slamming the glass onto the counter. he couldn’t help but get angry at the other man’s words, not willing to let this accusation taint and rip their estranged bond even further.

the cavalry captain however didn’t even flinched at the sudden noise, instead only rolling his eyes at the other’s words. “shut up,” he only mumbled, clearly not believing any word said. kaeya sighed, crossing his arms on the wodden counter and hiding his flushed face in it. his head felt got against the skin of his arms.

diluc however clenched his jaw at the sight of it, closing his eyes for a second before he spoke up again. “kaeya, i really don’t have the—“

“i said shut up!” the captain yelled, slamming a fist on the wood next to his head. the silence that followed was more deafening than kaeya’s voice only a few moments prior. “i don’ wanna fight with you”

diluc only looked at the drunk, his eyes wide in shock.

“you’re all i have left,” kaeya continued, his words slurring. “i don’ wanna lose you too”

diluc wasn’t a man of many words, rather one to be knows as straightforward, maybe even simple. he was honest, and usually didn’t have a problem to quip back, not bothering to hide his opinion on somebody or something. yet for the first time in ages, diluc found himself at as loss for words. he could only stare at the man he once called family. his heart ached at his words.

diluc knew it to be true. in a way, kaeya was also the only person he had left. their past was painful and the red haired man really believed that there was nothing that could salvage their broken bond. even after years he still felt hurt, lost, betrayed. he didn’t want to forgive and he couldn’t forget.

“you’re my brother, my only family”

it wasn’t until now that the two brothers faced each other again, looking into each others eyes. the red haired man’s face grew pale as he noticed the sad smile on kaeya’s lips while tears flowed over his cheeks.

“but ‘m too late, yeah?”

but diluc wasn’t the only one that felt this way.

he want the only one to feel lonely every day, he wasn’t the only one who woke up covered in sweat, reliving that fateful day over and over again in the dark hours of the night. diluc wasn’t the only one haunted by mistakes of the past, by promises made to each other when they were younger.

diluc wasn’t the only one suffering.

“what am i even saying, you don’ care,” kaeya mumbled more to himself, maybe not even realizing the gravity of his words.

he didn’t care, was that really what his brother thought of him? while yes, he was furious, disappointed, hurt, he still cared about him — how could he not? they grew up together, they smiled together, they cried together.

how could he not care about him?

the cavalry captain threw his head forward again, meeting his brother’s wide eyes. “i know you hate me, you don’ have to lie to make it easier for me”

he shrugged, lips curving upward for the n-th time this evening.

“made my bed, now i gotta lie in it”

the blue haired man sighed and shook his head as he stood up, swaying on his feet. he turned around and made his way to the door before he stopped right in front of it.

“i know it’s my fault” kaeya looked back at his older brother for a brief moment before he tilted his head back, staring at the wooden ceiling. “but i wish i wouldn’ be so lonely” and with that he stumbled out of the tavern, shutting the door behind him with a slam.

reblogs are appreciated

[mayashesfly]

Chapter 4 and 5 Spoilers

I can't help continue thinking about Chapter 4 and 5 Mystery Labyrinth's contrasts.

These two dungeons are the only ones where we have the actual character pose as an obstacle and Yuma had to actually fight them.

In Chapter 4, Vivia continuously fought for Chief Yakou. But he still helped Yuma as well.

When Chief Yakou's disguise as Yomi was falling, Vivia fought for him. When Chief Yakou fell down, unable to continue defending himself, Vivia fought for him. Protected him.

But not only that, but every time Yuma fails to defend himself and answer Vivia, Vivia just flings Yuma's Solution Blade away from him.

Not actually killing him.

We never see Yuma actually fall down or die during their duels.

Again and again, someone defended and protected Chief Yakou. Because, if noone does, who will? And Vivia kept choosing to defend Chief Yakou.

Until Yuma and Vivia finally came to an agreement through talking.

Something that's worth noting is that Yuma and Vivia's duels feels like a conversation. A complete back and forth between the two of them to reach at a silent agreement. And Vivia encourages it during that last duel. And Yuma wanted to understand Vivia.

Also, Vivia only fought Yuma with only a box cutter. A box cutter. To a sword fight. Which, no offense to Vivia, but a box cutter isn't really a terrifying weapon especially for a sword fight.

It's true that he could slit Yuma's throat with a box cutter but it's not really much of a lethal weapon otherwise. He can't easily slit Yuma's throat with a box cutter when Yuma has a fucking sword in a sword fight. Unless he wanted to continuously cut Yuma until he bleeds to death? But obviously that was not his intention, he didn't target Yuma's body at all, plus that would require too much effort for Vivia.

He kept retreating after Yuma defended himself, giving Yuma time to reply to him. And Yuma didn't actually target Vivia at all.

A duel with words. A conversation. But not a lethal one.

A culprit. A phantom defeated. A person. A person defended. Someone else, not the culprit.

Now let's contrast that to Chapter 5

In Chapter 5, it felt like less like someone else stepping up to defend another. And more like two allies consistently keeping each other's back safe.

And looking back at it, it makes sense. Makoto's ally is himself. So only they would protect each other.

Also, unlike Vivia, Makoto brought an actual sword to a sword fight. A sward against a sword. A Solution Blade against a Solution Blade. Unlike Yuma's fight with Vivia, Makoto posed an actual threat. This isn't a duel with words that's actually just a test of resolve. This is an actual duel, a duel of resolve that may lead to actual death.

And we do see that Yuma actually falls down, flashes red, and never stand up again when he fails to defend himself from Makoto.

He actually dies.

Unlike the Mystery Phantom of Chapter 4, noone else but Makoto himself protected his Mystery Phantom.

Because who else would protect him? Except himself?

A duel with words. A conversation. A lethal one.

A culprit. A phantom defeated. A person. A person defended. Noone else, just the culprit.

It's quite interesting isn't it?

[zealfruity]

Clones as Incorrect Quotes 1/2 Master Post (Canon-compliant and Standard Fix-It AU version) Ft. Jedi Disaster Trio

Unholy mixture of random generators, unsolved/ghost files banter, and things my friends have said

Occasional spoilers following below

A few notes for these: Tup is NB he/they. Hardcase is genderfluid. Vaughn is agender they/them. Jesse has no idea how any of this works, someone help him. NO CLONESHIPPING OR JEDI TRIO SHIPPING HERE!

Kix: Underestimate me. That'll be fun.

*Dogma is casually searching around the room*

Jesse: Hey Dogma, what're you looking for?

Dogma: My will to live.

*Tup walks into the room*

Dogma: Oh, there it is.

Hardcase: Assert your dominance over your friends by kicking them in the face, and then giving them a little smooch on the forehead!

S7 501st Trooper: Didn't you die?!

S7 Echo: That was weeks ago, dude. Things change.

Dogma: Have I ever told you that you cook well?

Hardcase: Awww, no, you haven't!

Dogma: So why do you keep cooking?

Crosshair, pointing to the wall: What color is this?

Hunter: Gray.

Tech: Grey.

Crosshair, turning to Wrecker: Now tell them what color you think it is.

Wrecker: Dark white.

Tup: As someone who has a long history of not understanding anything, I feel confident in my ability to continue not knowing what is going on.

Rex: Now, the recipe calls for 2 shots of vodka.

Rex: *upends the bottle*

Hardcase: I was put on this earth to do one thing.

Hardcase: Luckily I forgot what it was so I can do whatever I want.

Rex: Do not come over to my house. If the house is on fire you may knock once, if I don't answer assume I set the fire and I want to burn to death.

Blackout: I'm not superstitious... But I am a little stitious.

Hunter: You’re jealous.

Crosshair: Jealous?

Hunter: That’s why you were being so negative about this.

Crosshair: That’s absurd. I’m always negative.

Waxer: Just took a personality test and got an A+.

Tup: Shouldn't get stressed out, it's not good for the baby.

Fives: What baby?

Tup, crying a bit: Me.

*Disneyland, in the teacups*

Kix, Jesse, and Rex: *spinning a little and talking*

Fives and Hardcase: *flying past them, spinning as fast as they can, screaming*

Kix: Isn’t this a bit dangerous?

Fives: Kix, please. We’ve been in a lot of unexpected predicaments before and we always escape unhurt.

Kix: ...

Fives: Okay, we sometimes escape unhurt.

Kix: ...

Fives: Alright, we escaped unhurt once... Then we hurt ourselves on the way home.

*Comments under an image of a lightsaber cutting bread*

Jesse: Imagine stabbing someone with this.

Kix: It would instantly cauterize the wound, so the person wouldn't bleed, so it's not very useful.

Fives: if you want information it is

Hardcase: why would you stab a person when you can have TOAST?

Rex: Hardcase is late again.

Fives: How did this happen? I called them at 8 o’clock this morning and pretended it was 11.

Kix: I printed up a fake schedule for them saying we were starting at 9 instead of noon.

Jesse: I set their clock to say PM when it’s really AM.

Rex: Oh boy. We may have overdone it.

*Hardcase bursts through the door*

Hardcase: WHAT TIME IS IT?

Kix: Where is everyone?

Hardcase: Tup had a nervous collapse, Jesse is looking after him, Rex is trying to kill Fives, so I’m in charge.

Kix: Oh my god!

Hardcase: I know, right?

Hardcase: I feel like I’ve died and gone to heaven.

Dogma: I have that dream, too, but you go in the other direction.

Kix: Your lover doesn't have the mental strength to caramelize onions.

Echo: Your lover thinks it takes 5-10 minutes to caramelize onions.

Jesse: Who's fucking caramelizing onions? Have you sociopaths forgotten that apples exist?

Fives: Do you think caramelizing onions is putting caramel on onions.

Hardcase: Don’t be sad!

Tup: Why not?

Hardcase:

Hardcase: I don’t have a good answer.

Dogma: You have friends and I envy that.

Tup: You're welcome to share my friends.

Dogma: *looks at Hardcase and Fives*

Dogma: I don't want those.

Fives, T-posing in the doorway: Greetings, Captain.

Rex, not looking up from his caf: Good morning, problem child.

(Post war, Jesse’s a farmer on a farm)

Jesse: I need 28 lightbulbs for 28 ducks.

Tup: Ducks can’t eat lightbulbs?

Kix: I think that’s the point.

Jesse: Exactly. I want my ducks to glow so I can find them.

Vaughn: Could you guys at least try to see this from my perspective?

Jesse: *crouches down*

Appo: *kneels down*

Sgt. Fox: *sits on the floor*

Vaughn:

Vaughn: I hate all of you.

Cody: Wow, this parking is as straight as I am.

Wolffe: I know I should be focused on the fact that you just came out, but HOW DARE YOU INSULT MY PARKING!

Fives: I have met some of the most insufferable people. But they also met me.

Omega: WHY DID YOU KILL HIM?! HE COULD HAVE HAD HOPES AND DREAMS, HE COULD HAVE HAD A FAMILY!!!

Hunter: Omega-

Hunter: It- it was just an ant-

Echo: Unfortunately, due to several experiences in my youth, I cannot just 'walk up and join a circle of people talking', but it does sound lovely, thank you.

CF99: I think it's time to start fucking some shit up.

Rex: Oh no.

CF99: More like "oh yes!"

Rex: Hardcase! Have you no dignity?

Hardcase: Of course not! How long have we known eachother?

Fives: *running towards Dogma with open arms*

Dogma: *moves out of the way*

Fives: Hey, why'd you move?!

Dogma: I thought you were going to attack me.

Fives: I was going to hug you!

Dogma: Why would you hug me?

Fives: WHY WOULD I ATTACK YOU!?

Fives: Guess what number I’m thinking of.

Jesse: 420?

Fives: No, that’s really immature of you. Someone else guess, and please take this seriously.

Hardcase: 69.

Fives: Yeah it was 69.

Hunter: How petty can you get?

Echo: I once edited a Wikipedia article to win an argument I was wrong about.

Tup: Fives, sir, I am questioning your sanity...

Dogma: I never questioned it, I knew his sanity was missing from the start.

Thorn: Your future self is talking shit about you right now.

Fox: Jokes on him. I'll ruin his fucking life.

Fox: I only have two emotions: exhaustion and stress. And I’m somehow always feeling both simultaneously.

Kix: Hi, I'm Hardcase’s emergency contact.

Counter Guy: You're here to pick him up?

Kix: I'm here to remove myself as his emergency contact.

Cody, confused and exasperated: Waxer, how do you plan on telling a bear to go vegan?

Waxer: Politely.

Hardcase: If you spell skeletons backwards, it still spells skeletons.

Kix, deadpan: Wow, I can't wait for Halloween to see some snoteleks.

Echo: You’ve got to learn to love yourself.

Omega: But don't you hate yourself?

Echo: Yeah, but this is about you. Stay focused.

Hardcase: Hey droids! The boys are here!

Fives: “That’s a guy I wanna share a cold one with." Is what Bigfoot would say. About me.

Echo, about the Force: I'm bad at feeling. I wanna be swept up in this. I really wanna believe in something outside the norm of, you know, physics.

Rex: I've lived my life by one adage, and that's don't fuck with Sith!

Jesse, talking abour an insectoid creature from a holofilm: I’m just saying that if I were a bug I’d boink him.

Tup: If I were a bug I’d do a little bug dance.

Fives: My shoulders hurt from being so charismatic.

Jesse on Naboo leave: Why is the toilet paper scented here. It’s like rubbing my ass with some fckn lilies.

Hardcase: Would you notice if someone’s ears were a different color than their face?

Kix: You are literally the dumbest bitch I have ever met I love you so much.

Hound: Guys I did it again i took one of Grizzer’s pills

Fang: how the fuck

Wolffe: I don't trust pears they're sensual for no reason and then taste stupid.

Hound: I suddenly got really sad at the thought of eating my dog.

Boost: The leader never stops leading in true alpha fashion.

Sinker: please never say that again or I’ll call mutiny.

Jesse: Not to be political but idk what the fuck oatmeal is either man

Hardcase: *wears girl ring on one hand and boy ring on other hand* im so gendr

Bly: I am like one inconvenience away from deleting all my emotions and replacing them with disco.

Fox: Don’t date me unless you have a sexual preference for walls.

Echo: Me trying to fit my scomplink in the scomp-port of a computer is the equivalent of a man trying to finger a woman’s clitoris.

Tup: My head hurts. I think I'm dying.

Jesse: I have a cheesing appointment with your mom in half an hour.

Cody, threateningly: Your mouth is a fancy ballroom and I am a bitter man about to spike the party punch.

Echo: Here are two pictures. one of them is your room, and the other is the garbage dump.

Wrecker: *points at a picture* That one is the dump.

Echo: tHEY'RE BOTH YOUR ROOM!

Echo: It smells like henway in here.

Tech:

Echo: Tech.

Echo, forcefully: Doesn't it smell like henway in here?

Tech: *sigh*

Tech: What's a henway?

Echo: OH ABOUT TEN POUNDS!

Hunter: We are not mad. We are just disappointed.

Echo: No, we are mad.

Hunter: Yes. We are. We are livid. But we are going to let this one slide.

Echo: No, we’re not!

Hunter: I am not a mind reader, Echo!

Omega: I did it! I memorized everything in the book! I'm gonna ace this test!

Hunter: Ok, Omega, I'll give you one more question before you go. What ended in 1918?

Omega: 1917.

Hunter: ...You're ready.

Obi-Wan @ Anakin: Why do you always have to insult the ghost of the place we're at?

Anakin: What’s up with Obi-wan? He’s been laying on the floor for like….an hour now?

Ahsoka: He’s just a little overwhelmed.

Anakin: Why?

Ahsoka: Commander Cody smiled at him.

Anakin: Is this a good idea?

Anakin: Probably not.

Anakin: Do I care?

Anakin: No.

[moni-harmonia]

Kaeya & Dain scene

I usually write a review-analysis of a new chapter in a single post. But I have so many things to talk about that I prefer doing a separate post for this one.

Spoilers below

The long wait is over. Finally we learn in the story that Kaeya is from Khaenri’ah and he meets Dainsleif too.

The reveal in typical Genshin fashion was a bit casual, it reminded me of Albedo’s important reveals from a little while ago.

(Traveler turns very serious when Kaeya tells them about his native land)

We learn a few things here, especially from Kaeya’s past. So he thinks that Khaenri’ah is near Sumeru, at least that’s what he read. Which I find very curious because if he has that knowledge from a book it means that he doesn’t actually remember where it is? A bit weird, but he confirms that he came to Mondstadt when he was little.

I like how Kaeya finally decided to open up a bit and tell us things about his past, his little adventure as a child was quite endearing. Poor Crepus though, what a troublemaker he adopted lol

At first, I was wondering why Kaeya decided to tell his secret. I mean he didn’t tell everything, but he does tell us he’s from Khaenri’ah like that’s a very normal thing. I guess he did that because this is the Traveler we’re talking about. Kaeya knows that the Traveler is an important individual and he must know or suspect that they are investigating stuff about Khaenri’ah and the Abyss Order. Aside from having trust with them, I suspect that maybe he brought it up in case the Traveler knew something that could help him.

After all, Kaeya’s still not sure why his birth father left him in Mondstadt. He says it himself how at first he thought he had a “duty” but now he thinks maybe he just wanted to give Kaeya a peaceful life, which is something that some people have speculated about.

(Very sneaky Dainsleif. Also, I find it very curious and funny that he orders specifically a Death After Noon)

Well, if his reason to tell us was to get new info, he certainly got it... from Dainsleif. This was a very anticipated and exciting meeting. And Dainsleif arrives as usual with a bomb lore: the founder of the Abyss Order was an Alberich.

I think the most fascinating thing is that Kaeya wasn’t aware of that. He certainly doesn’t know a lot about Khaenri’ah or his clan. But it seems that detail has given him some new ideas, although we still don’t know what exactly is he thinking about since he immediately leaves.

Also, funny that Kaeya recognized Dainsleif as a Khaenri’ahn because of his eyes, it’s the first time in the story someone mentions that detail.

(Who thought we’d see this so soon? I actually wasn’t expecting Kaeya to be involved until later, so this scene was quite a surprise)

It’s interesting because this new info about the Alberich Clan has created tension between Dain and Kaeya, something that I wasn’t expecting. But it makes total sense, Dain doesn’t trust people easily and he thinks a person can’t run away from his past. As much as Kaeya says he doesn’t care about that anymore, between Dain saying that, and Mona’s quote about him, it seems certain that someday Kaeya will have to confront this.

Which is pretty exciting. This may have been a short scene, but it’s a big set up for the future. Kaeya is now involved in the main story, and he has met Dainsleif in person, both of those facts are quite important. Since the Alberichs are connected to the Abyss Order, they will be relevant again. We still don’t know what they are currently doing and why Kaeya’s birth father left him in Mondstadt.

It’s a bit sad at the same time. Kaeya loves Mondstadt, it’s obvious. He calls himself a Mondstadt citizen. But until this situation with the Abyss Order is resolved, he’ll never be actually free to live as he wants and to ignore the past.

See ya Kaeya... I know it’s going to be a long time until we meet you again, at least in the main story, but I’m pretty excited for it!

(By the way you can still see Kaeya a final time just after the tavern scene. He’s at the market near a teleport and has an optional dialogue here. Not very important but it’s something most people will miss. Kaeya just mentions that he wants to continue talking with us, but as he sees we’re busy we’ll have to wait for another time and says that he’ll be in Angel’s Share as usual.)

[littlenighttales]

If you’ve been here for a minute, you know the drill. Spoilers for chapter 4 of The Sounds of Nightmares, writing my thoughts as I listen to it for the first time (+ some extra edits in the parenthesis for extra thoughts on it after a few extra listens.)

So

Here we go. E4. Go. Go listen to this before reading this.

The Sounds of Nightmares

Two of a Kind

Yeah… so this one gets a bit philosophical at the beginning. Going on about duality and whatnot. Also have I mentioned how the main theme for this series absolutely slaps? Because it’s very good.

So Noone’s outside a reunion, but she can’t go in. It’s a bunch of happy kids outside playing and laughing. Otto gets Noone cake from it though (:

Apparently the room has a two way mirror, so they can look out but not in. Creepy. Otto spills the beans on the creepy disappearance. I’ll go ahead and mention I’m glad I don’t have to rewrite my happy ending story.

Obviously Noone starts freaking out about just straight up getting yeeted into what I’d dare compare to hell on Earth. She thought before they were just nightmares. But… nope.

Noone hates being alone, Otto reassures her a bit. He’s not seeming like a bad guy here lately. Just… having a bit of selfish-selfless motives. Doing sort of bad things for someone himself, but more for someone he knows. Does that make sense?

Wherever Noone was, there were happy kids! Carnival. LN3 teasers? But this is Little Nightmares, so I’m fully expecting the poop/fan collision within seconds.

The kids start talking more like teenagers, a bit weird. Suspecting we’ll see the “I don’t want to grow up” bit from Noone again. A kid named Rusty takes Noone for a ride- Ferris wheel. Also sky boats.

Rusty and his friends aren’t fans of being there. They’re basically slaves. Figures the bad news would come. Happy time lasted longer than expected.

Rebellion is planned. Noone gets assigned to lookout.

What the frick. Rusty sounding like he’s plotting his own death.

They stop talking about the “nightmare” to talk about going to the Nowhere. He opens up a little bit about CiCi. Noone figures out why Otto has been working with her like this. Finds out about his motives. She’s uncomfortable. But. He. Keeps. Pushing.

Noone mentions that the people of this world have distorted faces. Carnival guests a lot like the Maw guests. Definitely near or at the Carnival of LN3, I think

Magic show made Noone forget she’s a lookout. Mentions it’s like she’s under a spell. Ferryman is back?

Nope. It’s the carnival owner? He’s got no eyes. And a dummy made of a kid(?), maybe an adult? Noone says it looks like a smaller man. It sounds like it could be a Chuckie moment.

Noone tries so hard to warn the other kids.

And that dummy is definitely a possessed one. Dang, Chuckie moment.

Noone has a panic attack, some serious PTSD, sounds like ):

Someone hug the poor kid. Get that child a fluffy goat kid to hug!

Otto mentions the Ferryman by that name rather than Candleman. He’s all the more determined to go to the Nowhere. I know this is the same length as the other episodes, but it feels so much shorter!! Argh! It’s gonna be a long wait for next week! (Hey, future me here! Yeah, so I wrote this on the spot the day it was released, and yeah… still a long wait as of Saturday lol)

Good episode, but E3 is still the best so far imo.

We’ll probably see Noone get reverse-raptured (for lack of a better term) again next episode, maybe Otto finds his way to follow her.

[ilovewhiteroses]

Hi darlings! As you all know, Justified: City Primeval is based on Elmore Leonard's novel, "City Primeval: High Noon in Detroit" (1980). I thought it would be interesting to pick out a few excerpts from it to get to know a little bit more of Clement Mansell, whom will Boyd portray in the series. Warning: contains sexual references and violence Spoilers, I guess:

- Clement liked views from high places after years in the flatlands of Oklahoma and feeling the sky pressing down on him. It was the same sky when you could see it, when it wasn’t thick with dampness, but it seemed a lot higher in Detroit. He would look up there and wonder if his mom was floating around somewhere in space.

- Clement sat back on the couch, exposing the pair of bluebirds tattooed above his pure-white breasts. When they had first met three and a half years ago at a disco, Clement had said, “You want to see my birds?” and opened his shirt to show her. Then he’d said, “You want to see my chicken?” When Sandy said yes he pulled his shirt out of his pants and showed her his navel in the center of his hard belly. Sandy said, “I don’t see any chicken.” And Clement said, “It’s faded out; all that’s left is its asshole.”

- ONE TIME CLEMENT WAS RUN OVER by a train and lived. It was a thirty-three-car Chesapeake & Ohio freight train with two engines and a caboose. Clement was with a girl. They were waiting at a street crossing in Redford Township about eleven at night, the red lights flashing and the striped barrier across the road, when Clement got out of the car and went out to stand on the tracks, his back to the engine’s spotlight coming toward him at forty miles an hour. Yes, he was a little high, though not too high. He was going to jump out of the way at the last second, turned with his back to the approaching train, looking over at the girl’s face in the car windshield, the girl’s eyes about to come out of her head. Instead of jumping out of the way Clement changed his mind and laid down between the tracks. The train engineer saw Clement and slammed on the emergency brake, but not in time. Twenty-one cars passed over Clement before the train was brought to a stop and he crawled out from beneath the twenty-second one. The train engineer, Harold Howell of Grand Rapids, said, “There was just no excuse for it.” Clement was taken to Garden City Hospital where he was treated for a bruised back and released. When questioned by the Redford Township Police Clement said, “Did I break a law? Show me where it says I can’t lay down in front of a train if I want?”

- Clement tucked Raymond Cruz’s business card into the elastic of his briefs and took hold of Sandy’s arms, sliding his hands up under the satiny sleeves and tugging her gently against him. He said, “What’re you nervous about, huh? You never been nervous before. You need one of Dr. Mansell’s treatments? That it, hon bun, get you relaxed? Well, we can fix you up.

- “That’s right,” Raymond said, “or he could be in that highrise over there, twenty-five-oh-four. If you remember Clement, he’s got very large balls. The papers at the time called him the Oklahoma Wildman, but he’s more like a daredevil, a death defier . . .” “Evel Knievel with a gun,” Herzog said. “That’s right, he likes to live dangerously and he likes to kill people.”

- Clement said, “Sugar, I told you I want a regular car. I ain’t gonna street race, I ain’t gonna hang out at the Big Boy; I just need me some wheels in your name till things get a little better. Now here’s seven one-hundred-dollar bills, all the grocery money till we get some more. You buy a nice car and pick me up over there—if I can make it across Telegraph without getting killed—where you see that sign? Ramada Inn? I’ll be in there having a cocktail.”

- Clement stared at his little partner, waiting for what she said to make sense. Finally he said, “Honey? . . . I want to talk to this man, I don’t want to dance with him.” “Well, what if he doesn’t want to go there?” “Hey, aren’t you with the good hands people?” Clement inched his own hand over as he said it and caught Sandy between her slender legs. “Aren’t you?” “Cut it out.” “Why, what’s this?” Clement closed his eyes as he felt around. “Whiskers? You growing whiskers on me?” “That hurts.” “Yeah, but hurts good, don’t it? Huh? How ’bout right there? Feel pretty good?” Sandy rolled toward him, pushing out her hips, then stopped. “I ain’t gonna do it less you brush your teeth.” “Come on,” Clement said, “we don’t have to kiss. Let’s just do it.”

- Clement grinned at him. “Well, it don’t matter. We’re here to talk about the basics of love anyway, aren’t we, partner?” He paused, cocking his head. “Listen. Hear what they’re playing? ‘Everybody Loves a Winner,’ ” Clement half singing, half saying it. “That’s a old Dalaney and Bonnie number.” “You’re sure full of platter chatter this evening,” Sandy said. “You ought to get a job at CXI and get paid for it.” “Well, I got nothing against work. I come a piece from the oil fields to the world of speculation, Clement said, seeing Sandy rolling her eyes as he tightroped along the edge of truth. “But I’d rather see my investments do the work than me, if you know what I mean and I think you do.

- “Clement, really, if you’ll stop and think for a minute . . .” His hands slipped inside the roughcotton garment, moved up her body and felt her elbows come in tightly, her eyes staring into his. “What you think I’m gonna do to you? . . . Huh? Tell me.” He moved his thumbs across her breasts. “Hey, your nobs’re sticking out . . . That feel pretty good? Juuuust brush ’em a little, huh? . . . They get hard as little rocks.” His right hand moved lightly down her side to her hip, their eyes still holding. “Now what am I gonna do? . . . That your belly button right there? . . . My, we don’t have no panties on, do we?” His voice drowsy. “Tell what you think I’m gonna do to you . . . Huh? Come on . . .” Clement drew his right hand out of the caftan, bringing it down past his own hip, curled the hand into a fist and grunted, going up on his toes, as he drove the fist into Carolyn’s stomach. Once he got her into the shower, the caftan off her shoulders, pinning her arms, Clement gave Carolyn a working over with a few kidney punches and body hooks, a couple of stinging jabs to the face before a right cross drew blood from her nose and mouth and he turned the shower on her. The job was trying to keep her on her feet, glassy-eyed and moaning, Clement doubting she had much air left in her. He gave Carolyn a towel and guided her back to the desk in the window bay, bright with afternoon sunlight. Opening the checkbook, Clement said, “Let’s see now how much you want to give me.

- “Clement’s only been to prison once,” Sandy said. “He’s been to jail plenty of times, but he’s only spent like a year in a regular prison. He says he won’t ever go back again and I believe him. God, he makes up his mind to something . . . but he’s so unpredictable.

[visualnovelzombie]

Furry Visual Novel Book Club: Echo Week 17 Spoilers

Hi everyone, here is the SPOILER discussion post for “Echo - TJ’s Friday”

Links: Previous - Next - Original - Spoiler Free Version

Feel free to respond in reblogs/replies/or asks :D

A short update today, as the finale is about our usual reading length. And I did not want to do a 3k line update again because it takes WAY too much time. 

Chase wakes up around noon, learning that Tj had left on a hike without him, from Jenna whose been working on her homework. Chase brings up not being sure who set up the scavenger hunt to her, but Jenna says if it helps Tj she doesn’t mind doing it either way. Chase goes to grab lunch from the diner, only for Julian to invite himself next to the otter after his shift is over. Chase isn’t sure why Julian is talking to him, when the only times they’ve ever spoken before was because Julian was with Tj at the time.

Julian reveals he was best friends with Tj after Carl and Chase graduated, which relaxes Chase, whose upset with how much he feels like Julian is trying to ‘get with’ Tj. The two have an agreeable conversation until the music quiets as Julian says…

Chase recalls the account of Sydney’s death as When Your Arms Were Around Me begin to play. In August 2003, the gang went to Lake Emma to cool down, a usual occurrence. The group split off to skip rocks, leaving Tj behind at their usual spot. Sometime later, and even though Sydney had went with them, the larger group returns to the spot after hearing yelling, with Tj standing by the shore and Sydney floating face down in the water. Chase goes to grab him as the rest of the group splits off to get help.

Chase conveniently fails to mention the part where Flynn forced him into the water to help... If events did play out like this, it also means Chase sneaked back to the group after drowning Sydney too, which probably helped a LOT for people not blaming him.

Chase recalls in his head that Tj’s explanation doesn’t make sense, that something ‘pulled’ Sydney into the water... Because deep down, even if he’s suppressing it to himself, he knows what really happened. The diner’s theme begins to play again as the story finishes. Chase remembers he needs to finish his project and Julian offers to drive him to locations to film. The two head out to the mine to film. When they arrive, they find Tj sitting in front of the mineshaft opening. The lynx’s eyes are rolled back in his head and he’s unresponsive for a few moments. Chase eventually gets him back to reality and Tj says he was just napping. Tj realizes Julian is there and goes to hug him, Come Over begins playing as the two make contact.

We definitely get evidence that Tj has some supernatural entity involved with him, and I think it’s very easy to read it as an Echo of Sydney, in some sort. We know AN Echo of Sydney is out wandering the town in Flynn’s route, and that AN Echo of him is still around five years later... Maybe in this isolated hysteria incident, it decided to attach itself to Tj, or that AN entity is attaching itself to Tj to ‘feed’ it, and brought him to the mines to facilitate that.

Chase notices that Tj’s broodingness is gone from the day before, and chooses to embrace it, ignoring the situation he found the lynx in.

Chase’s willingness to overlook the supernatural again and again for Tj’s sake is very interesting. How much of his shattered self is going along because something is wrong in general, and how much is Mirror-Man influencing these decisions as well...

(We’ve played Leo’s route so we know but OOF…)

Chase ignores how ridiculous it is that Tj of all people would go on a several hours long hike in the weather by himself… but ignores it because Tj is happier today. Chase asks why Tj didn’t wake him up to go hiking, and Tj responds saying he didn’t want to drag Chase around anymore. Julian offers to go with Tj next time, and Chase responds with jealously, not wanting Tj to be alone with the buck. Tj and Julian discuss the bible study club Tj ran in highschool, Chase being jealous he didn’t get to share that experience with Tj while Julian did. Julian reveals that Tj would always say that he wished Chase would show up, embarrassing the lynx. Chase gets his shots of the mine and the group head out, picking up Carl and Jenna… though Chase is a bit jealous along the way. 

...MMhh, i wonder who else we’ve seen do stuff like that after an encounter with something in a mirror...

Flynn texts something mean to Tj again, Chase getting a glimpse of the message. He decides to to have Leo handle Flynn for Tj…

The group arrive at Sydney’s old home, where is Carl apprehensive about bothering the current resident to go inside, with Tj insistent that they do.

He know’s because he almost certainly planted it the night or two before, which Injy  brings up a bit later. The dark edge to Tj’s voice is back and everyone else is uncomfortable and unsure of the plan as Tj rings the doorbell anyways. Tj is… extremely blunt about what they’re currently there for.

Injy, the Red Panda and current resident, is understandably extremely creeped out by the requests and goes to shut the door. Tj offers to just go in himself, with Injy still being apprehensive. Injy offers to look for it himself if Tj tells him where it is and Tj agrees. Injy returns with an old shoebox, the very item the group was looking for. Chase is incredulous that they’re finding clues somehow still. Injy is sympathetic towards the group but tells them…

The group open the box and read the note, the paper old and identical to the others. It reads:

"I hope that you're all having fun,

"Soon you'll know what Chase has done,

"Figure it out, it's a piece of cake

"If you can't, look by Carl's drawing at the lake.

Carl throws up, and the group return to the motel room while they wait for him to recover. Chase is convinced that Sydney didn’t set up the hunt and that someone ‘has it out for [him]’. Chase is upset and tries to call the scavenger hunt off. Jenna comments that Chase is acting like his OLD self again. Chase then blames Carl and Flynn for setting it up. Tj is sure it isn’t Flynn... because again he is almost certainly the one who set it up... (Along with his ghost boyfriend whose possessing him ~)

I think Chase acting like his old self at times is a very interesting line. Maybe it represents just how he was brash and rude, and Mirror-Man is causing him to be so obsessed AND hide his secret, he’s being brash and rude again. Maybe it’s because Sam is so repressed, a bit of Chase is able to shine through? I think there’s a lot of little stuff to gleam from this line.

Chase sneaks out of the motel room at 3am. Reckoning begins to play as Chase drives towards the lake. He creeps out to the shore at night by himself, the sense of being watched by the lake itself enveloping him. After some … choice words about Carl

A tarantula sits on the rock, staring Chase down, and one twink moment later and it’s gone. Chase digs up the final note, an old lunch box. He destroys the note inside after reading it, the audience unaware of what it says.

More evidence that tarantula’s/spiders are manifestations of guilt and not ACTUALLY there. Would explain why they’re ‘hanging around’ Janice’s house, and why Tj and Chase are the only ones to see them...

Chase leaves a fake note inside the box and takes the scraps of the ripped up note. 

Oh honey... it IS the stars... but also the extreme manifestation of guilt that feeds a cosmic entity that makes faces of spiders in the stars. It’s multiple things <3

Chase returns to the motel, and stands over Tj, watching him sleep…

-------

That’s all for this week. Next week (assuming I don’t forget again...), we’ll be finishing Tj’s route, so keep playing till your kicked off to the main menu. There’s only one ending this time around...

Till next week everyone ~

[uozlulu]

Fic. IwtV AMC. Dream a Memory of Me. PG-13. Armand/Daniel

Character(s)/Relationship(s) Armand, Daniel, Lestat, Louis; Armand/Daniel, Armand/Louis, Armand/Louis/Daniel, Daniel/his unnamed second wife, Louis/Daniel, Louis/Lestat (some pairings are background pairings (past, mentioned, canonically present, etc…)). The main pairing and focus of the fic is Armand/Daniel. Genre Drama/Horror/Romance/Supernatural/Vampire Rating PG-13 Word Count 9,197 Disclaimer As this is fanfiction, I do not hold copyright to the source material(s) nor do I claim that I do. This is for free entertainment purposes only. Summary When Armand made Daniel forget their relationship decades ago, Daniel’s mind created a first wife to make sense of the memory loss. Now in Dubai, Daniel finds what he remembered from that time in his life distorting until he can no longer remember Alice but can only remember Armand during his years full of addiction. As the interview continues, Daniel tries to make sense of it all. Warning(s) spoilers up through season 1 episode 7, spoilers from the book Interview with the Vampire that will appear in season 2, inspiration drawn from spoilers for The Queen of the Damned, possibly other Vampire Chronicles spoilers, set during the COVID-19 pandemic, consensual blood drinking, addiction, food consumption, blood-fueled eating disorder, talking about death, discussion of murder, violence, fire, medication, language, chronic illness, toxic relationships, mention of potential suicidal behavior but nobody is actively suicidal, self-mutilation for blood drinking purposes Notes Saw a post on Tumblr that hypothesized that there was no Alice and that Daniel had a relationship with Armand instead, his mind compensating for his memory loss of that relationship by filling in the gaps with a fictional first wife. So, this fic is kind of an exploration of Daniel regaining some semblance of his actual memories as dreams. I tried to be clear with my transitions from memory to the present day. The ~ marks changes between groupings of memories and present day scenes.

This fic is my own odyssey of recollection since I read IwtV about twenty years ago, have since read synopsis for all the other books, listened to my friends obsess over the series since middle school, and absorbed a lot of information by being fandom adjacent for the last over twenty years online and fandom present for the TV show. So that, along with my Swiss cheesy memory, all kind of mixed together in my brain and out came this fic. Since IwtV AMC is an AU already, I figured it’s free real estate and went for it (also my brain wouldn’t shut up about the plot bunny).

AO3 link

Dream a Memory of Me      

Snow flurries spit in the air. Slush froze at their feet. Cold fingers slid along Daniel’s face, following contours that no longer existed. A shadowed figure lit from above surrounded and surrounded by Christmas lights from behind spoke in a quiet, resonate voice, “When you are dying, I will return.”

Daniel’s eyes opened. He lay in bed in his room in Dubai, the dream already slipping from his mind. His phone said it was well past two in the morning in New York, which made it almost noon in Dubai. This was the second time he woke since falling asleep shortly after dawn local time. He would probably sleep and wake a few more times before giving up on sleep entirely near sunset.

His mind wanted to cling to its dream, whatever it was. Alice? No. Yes. The shadowy figure was as tall as Alice was and ran their fingers along the side of his face like she did, careful of the sharp fingernails. Their hair was wavy. Their voice…

Daniel could not remember what Alice sounded like. He remembered the lights strung above them at the café in Paris where they had that dessert the vampires gave him early into the present interview. He attended university dance recitals at Alice’s side as they watched the student she patronized outdo his classmates. There were kitchen gadgets on almost every spare space of countertop. There were the movie cameras with their reels, art, theater, blood….

Daniel’s eyes closed. Exhaustion claimed him just as his brain questioned why there would be blood, pungent, fresh, and plentiful.

As always, Daniel woke a few more times before resigning himself to “morning” near sunset and setting about his day. Once clean and clothed, he found his medicine waiting for him on a saucer beside a glass of water on a tray. He reluctantly took it. After that would come breakfast while sitting across from a vampire who could not pick a healthy partner to save his death. Daniel wondered what animal he would watch Louis devour tonight.

Daniel gathered his things for the interview and placed them in his laptop bag. The color of his room changed and drew his attention to the sunset. Intense orange and pale yellow spread across the sky and sparkled off the buildings and the Persian Gulf.

For a moment, his mind recalled a similar sky spread out across Greenwich Village decades ago. He grasped Alice’s cold hands and drew their hands close to him until her fingers almost warmed. Her hair tickled his face and she pressed her lips to his skin where his jaw met his neck. Much like his dream, she was in shadow and had only eyes for a face.

Daniel blinked and his mind returned to the bedroom in Dubai. The color began to fade from the sky.

“You are my mortal lover,” a phantom voice seemingly whispered in his ear.

Daniel looked around but there was no sign of anyone else. It did not sound like it did when Armand or Louis communicated with him in his mind either. He sighed silently, shouldered his laptop bag, and left the bedroom to start the next session.

~

The apartment was dingy and yellowed wallpaper started to peel from the walls. With a hiss of warning, the best of the 1970’s jewel tones filled the room punctuated by shrieks. Sharp nails sunk into Daniel’s skin. As fast as the pain erupted, the nails were gone as someone else threw themselves between Daniel and his adversary. Hissing and shrieking continued. Furniture upended. A water pitcher shattered on the floor. Someone kicked Daniel so hard that his back hit the door.

“Go!” a voice sounded Daniel’s head clearer than any dream. “Leave!”

Daniel ran without destination weaving his way through the alleys of San Francisco until he could no longer breathe. He rested his hands on his knees, bowed his head, and gasped for air. Blood dried on his arms from the claw marks. Sweat dripped from his face. He reached into his pockets. He did not have the energy to curse aloud. He no longer had his tape recorder.

Two feet gently landed beside him with barely any noise. Daniel looked up at Armand and held his gaze.

“Come with me,” Armand said.

“Give me my tape,” Daniel said.

“Louis has the tape,” Armand said. Cold fingers grasped Daniel’s wrist and urged him to follow, slipping away once Daniel obeyed. “He broke free and fled. He must not find you.”

They merged into a crowd of youths exploring the city’s nightlife. Daniel frowned. “But –”

“Louie will kill you if he finds you,” Armand said. “He denies his nature until he can no longer contain it. I do what I can to stop him, but he’s a vampire and he must feed properly. Someone will die tonight. Don’t volunteer.”

They approached a condominium complex that was much nicer than the apartment complex where the interview went sideways. Daniel wiped the sweat from his face. “Why not let him eat me?”

Armand paused before they reached the door. “Why let him eat you?”

“Answering a question with a question is a dick move,” Daniel said. He followed Armand inside.

The door closed and Daniel’s eyes opened. He was in the sitting room of the penthouse in Dubai. Once again, he fell asleep during a lull in the present interview. This was why he retired soon after his Parkinson’s medication increased the second time. He rubbed his face and sighed. Another dream that felt more like a memory. His eyebrows furrowed together. The condominium complex was more familiar to him than the events in the dream.

A cup and saucer clinked gently when they touched the table in front of Daniel. He raised his head and met Armand’s gaze before scanning the rest of the room. There was no sign of anyone else.

“Louis is resting. Recalling Paris is always stressful,” Armand said.

“Hard to talk about the death of your child and your vampire offspring with their killer always lurking nearby,” Daniel murmured. He accepted the tea.

“Vampires must think of their preservation. Even our kind need laws. Louis knows my reasoning and still chose to become my lover,” Armand said.

“Louis sees a pair of beautiful eyes and loses all reason.” Daniel set the tea down. “A man who flung him from a building and a man who can’t let him answer questions in peace.” Daniel shook his head. “He can really pick them.”

“I could give you both peace,” Armand remained standing, “but as Louis said earlier, he hasn’t killed in twenty years. Yes, he’s drunk human blood from willing participants, but that does not satiate our hunger entirely. You don’t want to become his next proper meal.”

“You said you wouldn’t save my life this time. I would think it wouldn’t matter what I become.” Daniel did not look away.

“I won’t save your life.” Armand leaned forward and placed a cold hand on Daniel’s tremoring hand. He lowered his voice until it existed only in the space between them, barely a whisper against Daniel’s ear. “You are going to die. I am going to save your death.”

Daniel shivered, but did not move away. “And if I refuse?”

“Will you refuse?” Armand kept his hand firmly on Daniel’s hand despite Daniel’s tremors.

“Answering a question with a question…” Daniel’s voice trailed as his brain distracted his speech by trying to recall the dream he had earlier.

“‘…is a dick move,’ Armand finished. After a beat, he asked as Daniel might repeat an interview question, “Will you refuse?”

“I want my real memories back,” Daniel said. “Give them to me. Whatever prank you’re pulling, I want no part of it.”

Armand leaned even closer. His breath was cool against Daniel’s skin. “You have them,” he let go of Daniel’s hand and traced the side of his face, learning the new contour, “and now you must forget the filler.”

Daniel frowned. Before he could speak, Armand’s fingers stilled and his thumb rested against the pulse point in Daniel’s neck. Daniel swallowed. He searched Armand’s eyes and then leaned away, freeing himself from Armand’s hand. His back hit the sofa cushion behind him.

Armand retracted his hand and straightened his posture. “When you first arrived, I removed the mental block I placed upon you decades ago. It’s up to your brain to do the rest.”

“Fantastic,” Daniel murmured. “Like asking a Model T to run Tesla software.”

“Don’t sell yourself short,” Armand said. “You’re already starting to question ‘Alice,’ aren’t you?”

Daniel did not confirm or deny it. He eyed Armand and then finished his tea. He rose from the sofa slowly. “I spent years with her. I should know what she looked like, what she sounded like.”

“‘Her,’” Armand repeated in a tone that sounded half-bemused. He picked up the teacup and saucer. “Did you leave ‘her’ or did ‘she’ leave you?”

Daniel eyed him. “Don’t you have rats to microwave?”

Armand snorted. He headed back to the kitchen. At the doorway, he turned and looked back at Daniel. “That ‘Buick’ you mentioned. It had a red interior.” He disappeared from sight.

Daniel rolled his eyes. He rubbed his face and retreated to his room. In all of his memories of that car, the interior was brown. Everything in his mind felt jumbled. He should have left like he considered doing after Louis and Armand revealed Armand’s identity days ago and the first supposed memory appeared.

~

Daniel’s eyes opened. Again, he was in Dubai. Again, he only slept a few hours before waking. He winced and sat up slowly. A sharp pain attacked the skin at the front of his ankle. It felt like a bite, but it was his nerves sending strange erroneous signals to his brain. He pressed on the affected skin, easing the sharpness until his nerve endings finally calmed.

Daniel breathed through his nose. His dream dissipated from his mind. He thought it was of Alice, but the more he tried to remember it, the less he remembered. It was the most he thought of her since writing his memoir soon after his Parkinson’s diagnosis.

The longer he tried to remember Alice’s face and voice, the more Daniel thought of Armand asking him if he was starting to question her. Daniel frowned and picked up his phone. He opened up an incognito browser window, typed “Alice,” and paused. Alice never took his name. He needed to remember her full name. His eyebrows drew together. He must have known it back then and likely heard it at their wedding. His gaze returned to the sunlight on the floor. When did they get married? Where did they get married? How did they get married?

He closed his eyes and leaned back against the headboard. They got married earlier in their relationship around the time he started using drugs more than earlier experimentation. If he could remember which city, if he could remember what kind of wedding, then maybe the rest would follow. San Francisco. Paris. Greenwich Village….

An image formed in Daniel’s mind, taking the shape of a memory. The full moon shed light into a dark room. Linoleum designed to look like tile was cold under his bare feet. Cold lips explored Daniel’s neck. “You are my mortal lover,” a voice whispered in his ear. “I will bind you to me.”

Daniel shivered. “Shouldn’t you ask immortal lover first?”

The voice laughed, its owner shrouded in the darkness of the room and the uncertainty of memory. “We have an agreement and he’s working on himself right now. Does it bother you to have to share?”

Cold fingers slid along the skin at Daniel’s waist, sharp nails pricking the skin without piercing it. Daniel shook his head. “No.”

The hands slid away slowly from Daniel’s body. The figure stepped back, the moon illuminating them from behind. Bright eyes held Daniel’s gaze, glowing in the dark. Long nails sliced through the flesh at the figure’s wrist. Blood dripped onto the floor audibly.

Daniel’s heart quickened. The figure drew close and brought their wrist towards his face. Daniel’s fingers tentatively ran along the figure’s arm. “Do we say vows? Binding seems serious.”

“Vows…” the figure paused and then grinned. “Sounds dramatic. Alright.” They paused for a moment to think. “This blood shall be our bond. Wherever we go, whenever we part, we will be one with each other. You will always find me and I will always find you.”

Daniel licked his lips. He never gave a thought to his own wedding let alone vows in his life. After a moment, he said, “This blood is our bond, binding us with certainty. We’ll find each other in the dark and a cold eternity.”

Fangs glinted in the light. “Very poetic.”

Daniel snorted and then licked his lips. There was no hesitation. He brought the wrist to his mouth. He ran his tongue along the trails of blood. It had no flavor he could recall. The occasional clot burst in the mouth with the texture of a fragile berry. He drank until the blood stopped flowing and the wound clotted.

His mind spun and he slowly let go. He licked the blood from his lips, wiped it from his face, and licked it from his fingers. He offered his wrist to the figure.

The figure grasped Daniel’s hand and held it in their own, bringing it towards their cold chest. “It’s not your time yet. Not here. Not now. We are bound as any mortal can be to my kind.” The figure leaned forward, let go of Daniel’s hand, and took Daniel’s face in their cold fingers. They kissed Daniel despite the blood smeared across his face and mouth. Daniel’s fingers tangled in their hair. Both of their feet rose off the ground as the kiss deepened.

Daniel’s eyes opened. He was in Dubai. A few hours passed since he fell asleep. His phone lay on his blankets and buzzed against his knee. He glanced at the screen. An automated appointment scheduling email notification appeared and disappeared. Daniel sighed, turned off his phone, and placed it back in its charger.

The thought of only moonlight, blood dripping down his chin, and cold fingers on his skin returned to his mind. It did not feel like a dream. There was viscosity to the blood, texture to the linoleum, and goosebumps on his flesh in the dream. He tried to recall more of the dream and see the figure in the shadows, but he was too tired. He stared up at the ceiling. The memory slipped away and slowly sleep claimed him again.

~

The penthouse in Dubai glowed in candlelight and artificial light. Louis sat in his chair and Daniel on the sofa. Armand was not far away.

“…and that’s when I met you,” Louis said. “Your mind all but sang at the bar. You were full of life.” His lips quirked upwards and his eyes almost seemed to soften despite catching the light. “But that’s a topic we can begin tomorrow.”

‘“Were full of life,”’ Daniel thought with an internal snort. He glanced at his computer but left the recording running. The sun would rise soon.

“Don’t misunderstand,” Louis said. “You are still full of life.”

“Don’t read my mind,” Daniel said. “I’m just an old bastard turning to dust. We can’t stay the people we were.”

“I’m glad you didn’t stay the same.” Louis leaned forward and held Daniel’s gaze. “You might be turning to dust for now, but my offer is still there.”

Daniel’s eyes shifted to Armand standing towards the back of the room. Armand’s thumb moved along his opposite hand. His jaw was tense. Daniel’s eyes returned to Louis. “And if I refuse?”

“Then that is your choice,” Louis said. “Everyone should have that choice.”

Daniel studied Louis a long moment. “I want to finish this project as an outsider. If I became a vampire during the process, it would no longer be the piece it should be.” After the project wrapped, Daniel was not sure which choice he might make.

Louis’ smile seemed to grow. He rose from his chair, bid Daniel good morning, and headed to the doorway. He paused when he passed Armand. They stared at each other a long moment and then Louis disappeared.

Daniel slowly rose from the sofa. He gathered his things. “It bothers you whenever Louis offers me the ‘gift.’” He looked across the room at Armand. “Why?”

Armand slowly slid his hands apart and let them rest at his sides. “It’s not his to give.”

“There don’t seem to be rules to it,” Daniel said. “Unlike this place.” His eyes scanned the room. “The books out of reach, the sterile sand garden in a lively desert. Your constant presence monitoring his every word.” His gaze returned to Armand. “Rules and control.”

“He is free to say and do what he likes,” Armand said. “I am not here to monitor his words.”

“Then why are you here?” Daniel asked. “If not to monitor his story, if not to spare my life, then why? Certainly there are more interesting things on TV.”

“What do you think will happen when the rest of the vampire world discovers this interview?” Armand asked. “What do you think they’ll do when they learn how Louis was spared despite attempting to murder one of us, how he has spoken about us, and his connections? Even Lestat creating a beaming bisexual beacon of a rock star will not distract from the rumors this time.”

“So you do know about Lestat’s band and Louis doesn’t,” Daniel said.

“I know because I use my ears and my eyes,” Armand said. “Louis chooses to pull away from such things.”

Daniel eyed Armand. He did not truly buy that this was entirely Louis’ idea. He did not think Louis would be able to resist if he heard Lestat’s voice on the radio or reason it away. Daniel slowly closed the bag.

Armand ran his thumb along his opposite hand and then slowly parted his hands. “You only know two vampires, and the written diary of a third. You cannot judge all vampires. We must protect each other, which means we must also kill each other when threatened. Louis is weak by his own choice. When you publish this interview, it could end with his severed head.”

“So why let him do the interview at all?” Daniel asked. “Doesn’t this interview also threaten you?”

“I am old enough to know a large majority of mortals will see your piece as a fantastic tale that deserves a speculative fiction award,” Armand said. “Other vampires are not so wise. This interview is no threat to me.”

“‘Wise,’” Daniel repeated with a tiny snort. “If this is a suicide mission, you should let him tell the truth.” Daniel shouldered his computer bag. “Otherwise it’s not worth dying for.” He headed to his bedroom. His limbs felt heavy and exhaustion tugged him towards his bed as if tonight he might have uninterrupted sleep. Yet, as usual, sleep was sporadic and unfulfilling.

~

Every time Daniel woke, he could almost just feel blood drip down his chin and puddle in his mouth. His heart palpated wildly to the point he almost could not breathe. His bouts of wakefulness were longer and his bouts of sleep shorter. Everything ached. No sleeping position seemed right. He thought of blood like he used to think of LSD in the middle of the night in New York with barely enough blankets against the cold. Anything to escape being overtired and too awake.

He still could not remember Alice’s face or voice. He began to doubt her eyebrows were unique. He still could not remember if they bothered with a wedding ceremony or signed papers in a courthouse. He had no idea how to find proof she existed beyond his own memoir. He knew she loved the theater and movies. He knew she was always devising some new horrible concoction of foods because the combined color was pretty or disgusting. He knew they broke up in the kitchen. Daniel closed his eyes.

In his dream, Daniel’s hands shook but differently than they shook from Parkinson’s. His clothes barely protected against the wind and hung off his thin frame. His stomach rumbled but the scent of every restaurant he passed on the street turned it upside down. The briefcase strapped over his shoulder with the notes for his latest article slapped against his hipbone, but he ignored the pain. His pace quickened when he saw the condominium complex up ahead.

A doorman with the thickest moustache and brightest blue suit stopped Daniel before he could even reach the door. He would not let Daniel pass even after Daniel showed him his driver’s license that had this very address printed across it.

Abruptly the door opened and a voice spoke, “You remember Daniel, don’t you? He lives with me. He’s a freelancer. He’s been abroad with a story.”

The doorman eyed Daniel but reluctantly let him enter the building. Daniel’s stomach rumbled loudly. He followed a shadowy figure up the dimly lit stairs. He wiped saliva from his mouth. He could not take his eyes off the figure’s skin especially their wrists.

“When did you last eat?” the figure asked.

“You know when,” Daniel almost growled. His stomach rumbled again.

“You’re a mortal. You cannot survive on my blood alone.” The figure let them into a unit near the top of the building. “You were gone for a month. You must have eaten something.”

“I drank coconut water,” Daniel said, “nothing else smelled or tasted right.”

The figure paused. Dark eyes regarded Daniel. “I see.” The figure moved deeper into the apartment.

Daniel set his bag down, kicked off his shoes, and followed them to the kitchen. The latest kitchenware technology lined the counter space.

“Sit,” the figure said.

“Feed me,” Daniel growled.

“I will. Sit.”

When Daniel sat on a nearby chair, the figure rummaged through the fridge. It ripped cabbage, tomato, and carrots into pieces with its claw-like fingernails. It tossed them all into a mixing bowl that was much too large for its contents. The figure found a fork and set the salad on the small table beside Daniel.

Daniel stared at the salad a long moment. His gaze slowly moved towards the figure. “Are you fucking serious?”

The figure reached out and grasped Daniel’s shirt collar, their grip tight. They moved the collar away from Daniel’s chest, exposing an ample gap. “I remember when this shirt clung to you.”

“I lost weight,” Daniel said. “It happens.”

The figure let go of Daniel’s shirt and turned back to the fridge. “I should feed you protein too. Do you think you would eat a cat? It’s meatier than usual. I think someone fed it well.”

“I would eat blood,” Daniel said. “You bound me to this. Feed me.”

The figure eyed him. They pushed dark wavy hair from their eyes with a dramatic gesture. “First it was ‘Turn me! Turn me! Turn me!’ and now it’s ‘Feed me! Feed me! Feed me!’ You’re only mortal I’ve ever bound. I thought it would keep you at my side not at my veins!”

“Then feed me from your side!” Daniel lunged for the figure. The figure lifted into the air. Daniel lunged repeatedly, but the figure was always out of reach. Daniel crashed into the table, knocking it over and the salad scattered across the floor.

“Pathetic,” the figure hissed. “This isn’t working.” Their feet gently landed on the floor and they knelt at Daniel’s side. “I told you if you bored me I would kill you, but a mortal death would be too kind and your blood would taste awful.”

Pain ripped into Daniel’s wrist and his blood oozed down his arm and gathered in drops on the floor. Daniel cried out.

The figure gathered Daniel’s blood on their fingers and brought it to their mouth. “I release you from our binding.” They gathered more of Daniel’s blood on their fingers and fed it to Daniel. “You will stop seeking me out. This blood is a symbol of a new pact. You are no longer bound to me.”

Daniel desperately licked his blood from the figure’s fingers. It tasted terrible and did not quell his hunger.

“I will leave you here.” The figure stood.  

Daniel grasped their pants leg with his free hand. “….Armand…” he hissed.

Armand looked down at him no longer in shadow. “Live a long life, Daniel.” He lifted himself to the air just out of reach and left the kitchen. The door closed soon after.

Daniel could barely move from the floor. He let out a frustrated growl and shut his eyes. The hunger gnawed at him until he felt hollow. He drank his own blood and shouted in anger.

When Daniel’s eyes opened, the sunset was at its peak and his room and Dubai glowed red. Daniel slowly left the bed and approached the windows. His mind spun. Images flooded him, each one barely registering before the next took its place. Armand looking down at him in that kitchen full of disgust. Armand’s small smile whenever Daniel would take his hands to warm them with his own. Armand leaning forward while watching the dancer he patronized spin across the stage as the contemporary music droned. Armand sitting under strings of lights at a Paris café telling Daniel how awful the dessert tasted. Armand wasting food and destroying kitchen equipment with animals while talking excitedly about the artistry of his colorful messes. Armand filming short artsy films with excitement and dramatic flair. Armand leaning closer in a moonlit apartment, offering his dripping wrist while Daniel composed vows on the spot.

Daniel leaned against a window. His heart pounded in his ears. His legs weakened. He slowly sat on the floor without much warning. He bowed his head and put his hands over his ears when a memory of Louis from San Francisco sprang forth, gouging Daniel’s arms with his long nails. Daniel took deep breaths, but they felt more like gasps. His heart would not calm. The memories would not stop. He shut his eyes as tight as he could.

Slowly Armand’s face faded from Daniel’s mind until there was nothing. Little memories untouched by vampirism began to appear. Eating his first real meal after breaking up with Armand in a dirty McDonalds while the woman who would become who he thought of as his second wife closed up for the night. Sharing a car with her to and from an addiction recovery program while she talked about her struggle with opiates. Rain lashing on their wedding day two years later, their friends from the recovery program the only people in attendance. Holding his daughters as newborns years apart, finding how different babies could be even so tiny. His heart rate slowed and when he opened his eyes, the hotel room in Dubai was dark except for the glow of Armand’s iPad and a light in nearby room. Voices whispered. Daniel slowly began to understand the words.

“I read that it has to be adjusted periodically,” Louis said, “and eventually it will stop working. If it even was the medicine that caused this.” He stood across from the foot of the bed where Armand sat with his iPad lay on his lap, the brightness turned all the way down.

“We can’t rule the medicine out. We can’t trust the hospitals either,” Armand said.  

“We might not have to,” Louis said. “We can assess things when he wakes. The doctor will be here soon. They’ll know what to do.”

Daniel slowly sat up. “I’m awake.” He rubbed his face and then flexed his fingers to ease the tremors. “What time is it?”

“Half past eleven,” Louis said. “How do you feel?”

Daniel’s gaze moved from Louis to Armand and back to Louis. “As normal as someone can when two vampires greet them in their bedroom.”

“Do you remember what happened?” Louis asked.

“I woke up, it was sunset. I woke up again, and it’s now,” Daniel said. “I feel like I’ve been microwaved.” He slowly moved his legs to the side of the bed.

“You collapsed,” Louis said. “Armand found you. You should stay in bed until the doctor arrives. We will continue the interview tomorrow.”

“I’m not that far gone,” Daniel said. He stood slowly, keeping one hand to the wall just in case his legs weakened again, but this time they did not. His head did not feel too full. His heart remained calm. He walked to his suitcase and picked out clothes for the night. He looked at the vampires watching him. “I didn’t break anything. I’m not dizzy. I’m going to get dressed and do my job.” He escaped to the bathroom.

Daniel could hear quiet discussion happening once he closed the door. He did not lock it just in case he did fall again, but he did not fall. When he left the bathroom, his brain still felt fried but his legs and heart felt like they always did in the last decade. The light in his room was on and the tray that always appeared after he got ready for the night sat in its spot with his medication and glass of water. The doctor who helped monitor his condition in Dubai waited for him. Daniel submitted to the exam.

~

The doctor assessed that Daniel was exhausted and agreed with Louis that Daniel should rest. It was frustrating, but provided an opportunity to review notes and evaluate strategy for upcoming interview sessions. The city lights glowed outside the windows in the sitting room and periodically drew Daniel’s gaze. Feeling eyes on him, Daniel found Armand watching him from the doorway. Daniel eyed him. “Gotten your fill screwing around with my memories yet?”

Armand set tea down in front of Daniel along with several ghraybeh cookies placed on a small china dessert plate. “I told you, I’ve removed my manipulations. It’s up to your own mind for what happens next.”

Daniel took a cookie. It had an almond placed in its center. It was delicious. “I think it’s more than that. Every memory I have that should be Alice, is now of you. So either this is a prank in which you replace my memories of her with bullshit or one of your experiments where you find out what happens when you fabricate a whole person, let them exist for over forty years, and then take the fake person away to see what happens.” Daniel sipped his tea. “Either way, it pisses me off. I’m not here to be one of your rats.”

“Or I took your memories of what happens and now gave them back.” Armand remained standing. “Have you figured out how we broke up?”

“You left me bleeding on the kitchen floor,” Daniel said.

“That was the first time,” Armand said, “but I miscalculated how to stop the hunger.”

“You shouldn’t have been feeding me your blood in the first place.” Daniel took another cookie.

“You kept begging me to turn you. I thought this would be a compromise.” Armand sighed inaudibly. “But it wasn’t what I wanted.”

“Well I’m glad both of us found the monkey paw in that then,” Daniel quipped. He finished the snack. His shoulders sagged more than he would have liked. He felt more unrested than usual despite waking much later than any other interview day. “And someone I’m supposed to believe you want to turn me now?”

Armand leaned on the table so their eyes would be level. “Why wouldn’t I? What other vampire can choose such a person? You know our secrets. You no longer think like a child. You have the fascination to want to turn but also the wisdom almost to resist.”

Daniel met his gaze. “I’m wrinkled and flabby. I don’t put up with bullshit. You won’t be able to keep me in this zoo of a penthouse.”

Armand reached out, running his fingers through Daniel’s hair and curling them at his ear. Armand leaned closer until his breath felt cold against Daniel’s neck. “If that bothered me, I would have plucked you sooner.”

Armand kissed Daniel right where his jaw met his neck, letting his lips linger a moment. Daniel shivered. He swallowed.

Armand stopped leaning on the table, picked up the tray of used china, and slipped from the room. Daniel watched him, his gaze lingering on the doorway even after Armand left.

~

Snow covered the mall parking lot. Christmas lights shone from any tree in sight. The car ran in the parking spot to keep warm. Luckily, the gas crisis was over. Daniel glanced at the rear view mirror. His daughter slept soundly where she lay on the backseat hugging a well-worn bear. His pregnant wife would get off work soon and they would all head home and out of the cold.

Last minute shoppers headed to their cars. Daniel idly watched them, but there was nothing interesting about any of them until one caught his attention. Daniel’s heartbeat immediately increased. Sweat gathered on his palms. His stomach rumbled even though he ate dinner two hours ago. He did not blink. He did not think. He left the car running and rushed out into the slush and snow, barely remembering to shut the door.

“Armand!” the almost whispered shout seemed to echo despite the snow and slush.

Armand had a large box in a bag in his hand. The snow clung to his hair as flurries spit from the sky. His attention turned towards Daniel.

Daniel rushed forward. “I need you…” his voice trailed. He glanced back over his shoulder. The car was still running with all the doors closed. The driver’s door was unlocked. He could not leave his daughter like that. His attention returned to Armand. His stomach rumbled audibly again. Sweat gathered at his brow. His heart pounded in his ears. His arms weakened. Thoughts of blood flooded his mind. He glanced back over his shoulder and then back at Armand. His body seemed to twitch. His mind ground to an almost audible halt.

Armand approached slowly. He took Daniel’s arm and guided him back to the car, peering inside. “Adorable,” he said with the same genuine voice he used when he spoke to the children in costumes on Halloween.

Daniel found his voice. “She’s mine.” He swallowed. “There’s another on the way.” His eyes did not move from Armand.

Armand’s attention returned to Daniel. He let go of Daniel’s arm and set his bag on top of the car instead of in the snow and slush at their feet. He caressed the side of Daniel’s face. The parking lot light made his hair glow. Christmas lights shone behind him. “I thought I could undo our blood bond, but I cannot. However, I can hide it.” His fingers slid to the back of Daniel’s neck, his grip firm. “When you are dying, I will return and give you what you truly want, but for now, I’ll take your memory, your hunger, your desire.” He leaned down and kissed Daniel. There was no nipping and no blood. The hand at Daniel’s neck kept Daniel still. When Armand broke the kiss, he stepped back. “Goodbye for now, Daniel.”

Daniel gasped for breath and fell forward into waiting arms. His eyes closed and he was only vaguely aware of Armand guiding him into the driver’s seat of his car and shutting the car door soundly.

When Daniel’s eyes opened, he was in his room in Dubai. He sat up slowly and fumbled with his phone. It was earlier than he might normally give up on sleeping. A notification flashed on screen. It was an email from his youngest daughter. Daniel held his breath a moment and then opened the app and the email.

“Dad,

“One of the other professors asked after you today. I’ve been so busy converting my lesson plans that I haven’t been keeping up on the news. He said you’re in Dubai.

“How is Dubai? Can you tell me why you’re there? Are you well? I want to hear it from you and not the news.”  

Daniel sighed and stared out the windows. The phone slipped from his fingers and the screen eventually went to sleep. He could reply later on his laptop. He watched the sky a long moment. His mind was full but settled. His heart was calm. He had no desire to go back to sleep. He did not know if he wanted to stay.

Daniel slowly got out of bed and got ready for the night. Like the night after he found out “Rashid” was Armand, Daniel changed into clothes he could wear to the airport or the interview. He packed his bags while ignoring the medicine bottles, letting the movements ease the tremors in his hands. He could head to the airport and board the first flight he could find away from here. He was almost to the end of the interview and could stay to finish it. He could get away from Armand and let his memories return to normal if possible. It might not matter if these really were his true memories. He could tell the vampires to go fuck themselves again. He could finish his contract and leave his daughters with a financial cushion when the world was on the brink of a potential economic depression. He slowly closed his bag. He stared out the windows at the start of the sunset.

He could not remember what Armand’s blood tasted like, which made it all feel like dreams. He almost wanted to know, but he did not want to end up rock bottom on a kitchen floor ever again. He could feel the texture of it in his mouth. He swallowed and breathed deeply, trying to clear his mind. The feeling of eyes on him drew Daniel’s attention to the doorway.

Armand entered the room with the morning tray. He placed it where it belonged and placed pills from the medicine bottles nearby on the saucer so they did not obscure the painting in the center. “If you leave, don’t forget your medicine.”

“As if you’d let me leave,” Daniel said.

“You are always free to leave.” Armand stepped back so Daniel could access the tray. “But do you really want to leave?”

“Is Louis also always free to leave?” Daniel asked. He approached the tray but ignored it for now.

“He is, but he chooses not to,” Armand said. “When we discovered the diaries, it brought up a lot of negative emotion. He’s trying to avoid another outburst.”

They stood close enough that Daniel could feel the chill radiating from Armand. Armand’s clothing exposed his clavicle and neck but nothing more unlike the clothing he wore at the start of this interview.

“Should I return to the t-shirts?” Armand smiled an almost smirk.

“Out of my head,” Daniel said.

“I don’t have to pry into your mind to know what’s clearly on your face,” Armand said. “I know you.”

“Do the clothes affect your body temperature?” Daniel asked.

“As much as it would affect a corpse,” Armand said. “Are you going to take your medicine?”

Daniel looked at the pills. “There came a point at the start of the pandemic where I asked myself, ‘Am I living to live or living to avoid death?’” His gaze shifted to Armand. “I don’t want to waste my money on a life that’s no longer about living. I might deteriorate faster, but I am closer to dying than ever before, and the money that could go into putting death off should go to those who can use it to live.”

Armand moved closer and his fingers barely rested against Daniel’s waist just above his belt. “You could die to live and it would be irrelevant.”

Daniel did not avert his gaze or step back. “And stay with the man who fed me his blood because he didn’t know how to ask me to stay? Stay with the man who tangled my memories?”

“Would you rather I kept you bound to me all this time?” Armand drew closer.  

The light from the sunset faded. A lamp lit on its own, providing dim light. Daniel licked his lips. “You could just ask for the things you want.” He slowly took Armand’s hands in his and brought them close to his body, holding them so that they would warm. Armand’s eyes fixed on their hands. His shoulders seemed to relax. When the tremors became too much, Daniel let go. He stepped away to take his medicine and then went to get his laptop bag with all of his interview supplies.  

Armand pressed his own hands together, letting the vague warmth resonate until it dissipated.

~

The interview moved from the dining table to the sitting room. Daniel settled on the sofa and Louis on the chair. Armand sat on a different chair nearby with his iPad, one eye always watching the proceedings.

“You’ve started to remember more about the first interview, haven’t you?” Louis asked.

“Memories and dreams are too closely related,” Daniel said. “Besides, this is about your recollection and your perspective.”

“Of course,” Louis said. He took a breath and resumed his recollection, “Like in Florida, Armand and I started to cruise the bars in San Francisco. Tourists, students, people looking for a secret rendezvous – all were fair game. We worked as a team, seducing people back to a small apartment where no one would bother us and our prey. Armand always liked to watch.”

Daniel had dreams that felt like memories where he participated in a similar sexual game. He ignored those thoughts for now and said, “So you picked me, but you talked to me instead. What changed your mind?”

“It’s easy to almost hypnotize mortals, even when mortal,” Louis said. “You lean in, say the right words, place a strategic hand, and the rest follows. When I touched you, you noticed it was strange and cold. Instead of ignoring it or rationalizing it, you started thinking about it. I told you I was old enough to be your grandpa, and you considered it instead of dismissing it as a strange line.” Louis smiled slightly. “When you introduced yourself, I recognized your name from the newspaper. I admired your work trying to help clean up the rivers, so I thought if there was anyone who might believe me, anyone I could tell my story to, you were one of those rare people.

“I wasn’t wrong, but I was only starting to process what happened. I was still bitter. I hadn’t analyzed anything yet.” Louis continued his narration. After he attacked Daniel, he fled the apartment in San Francisco and hit the streets just as Armand said he would in one of the recovered memories. After this bender, Louis withdrew and used the next several years to think about the memories. He returned to New Orleans and Europe, forcing himself to confront what he could and the ghosts of his past.

“I knew Armand would take up with you,” Louis said. “I was more surprised that you hadn’t convinced him to turn you when you both arrived in Paris than I was surprised to see you with him.”

“Were you jealous?” Daniel asked.

“No,” Louis said. “After Paris, I saw you a few other times. Every time the life that drew me to you in San Francisco drained away. You were a phantom, irritable and obsessive. You were so preoccupied with the blood you craved that you barely noticed the rest of the world. You no longer had any curiosity.” He paused. “I felt sad and concerned for you, but no envy or jealousy. I was grateful to not be in your position.”

A silence passed. Daniel opened his mouth but a noise from his bedroom seemed to echo through the penthouse despite the carpeting. The sound of breeze knocking paper and other light items to the ground sounded. Footsteps approached. Armand discarded his iPad. Louis rose to his feet. Daniel switched to the recording app on his phone, put his laptop away as fast as he was capable, and then placed the strap of his laptop bag across his body securely.

A man appeared, his long golden hair windswept from climbing the building but somehow immaculately in place. He wore a plunging pirate’s blouse with puffed sleeves and the tightest pinkest leather pants. He strode into the room in heeled boots and his gazed fixed on Louis, his makeup firmly on point. “Good night, Louis.” He looked towards the sofa and gave a small wave. “Good night, Daniel.”

Daniel returned the wave in kind. “Good night.” He did not know how else to react.

Armand moved to Louis’ side. Louis’ eyes softened and then immediately hardened. His shoulders squared. “Why are you here, Lestat? Tired of playing dead?”

Lestat’s attention returned to Louis. He snorted. “Dead men don’t have conversations in abandoned houses! You were so consumed when we last met that you treated me as a specter, an illusion!” Lestat moved a hand through the air. “But that doesn’t matter. What matters is the present. We’re in the middle of a great crisis and you are playing house.”

“I am not ‘playing house,’” Louis said. “I’ve been with Armand for sixty years now. I don’t want anything to do with this ‘grand conversion’ or whatever is happening out there.”

“It’s not a conversion,” Lestat said. “The mortals are dying of a plague while vampires are spontaneously combusting. Our populations aren’t growing; they’re dwindling, mortal and vampire alike.”

“If that was true, Marius would have said something,” Louis said. He looked at Armand. “Right?”

Armand nodded. “Marius mentioned something like that. It started around the time that the mortals started dying of a respiratory virus. I haven’t seen anyone combust myself. Those that have advised not to speak of it mentally.”

Louis stared a long moment. “The pandemic started months ago, when we moved to this penthouse. I had no idea.”

Armand did not avert his gaze. He did not say anything either.

“I too have spoken to Marius,” Lestat said. “It does not seem random. When I left him, I knew you would be hiding, but I had to find you. I immediately remembered a rumor I heard when I emerged from the ground forty years ago. Everyone said a vampire had a biographer. No one knew who it was. There was never an article or a book, so I thought it was just a story until I met Daniel Molloy.”

Daniel ran his tongue along his teeth. He was glad when no one looked his way.

“The other reporters who interviewed me on tour either thought of their own problems or if they noticed strange things about me, they dismissed these things easily,” Lestat continued. “Daniel did not do that. It made him remember someone with the same qualities. He had to be the biographer. He knew a vampire but was still mortal and unafraid.

“So, dear Louis, when I read that Daniel flew to Dubai, I knew of only one vampire who could inspire such risk, inspire such loyalty.” Lestat paused. “If I can find you, who else can find you? Whoever is causing the spontaneous combustion? Someone looking for revenge? Madeleine will not be as charitable as I am if you cross her path.”

Louis stiffened and took a step forward, pulling himself to his full height. “Keep her name out of your mouth!”

Lestat did not back away. This time his smile sparkled in his eyes. “Or what?”

Armand stepped between them. The glee left Lestat’s eyes for a moment. Armand leaned close to Louis’ ear. He rested a hand on Louis’ waist. “Louis, he’s trying to provoke you. You were there in Paris. You saw their ashes.”

“Then who did I meet?” Lestat asked. “The Madeleine I met is a charming Parisian woman at Claudia’s side who laments that her craft died out with Mattel.”

“Mattel didn’t exist then,” Armand said.

“In the 1990’s? I assure you it very much did,” Lestat said.

“In the 1940’s when she died,” Armand said. “When she turned to ash. Ash we saw.”

“Two women chained up in a courtyard waiting for the sun in a city full of soldiers looking for opportunity,” Lestat said. “You saw the ash, but who died that morning? Did you see who burnt in the courtyard?”

No one spoke. No one moved.

“Answer him,” Louis said quietly.

Armand’s gaze shifted from Lestat to Louis. “Louis, this is –”

“Answer him,” Louis almost hissed. He stepped away from Armand.

Armand took a deep breath. “I was not part of the team that kept watch that night. I was looking for an opportunity to free you.”

“After Claudia and Madeleine were to die,” Lestat said. “When did you find this opportunity? Two days later? Three days?”

Louis’ shoulders tensed. His hands trembled but not in the way that Daniel’s hands tremored. He stretched his jaw slowly.

“When else was I going to do it?” Armand asked. “If I freed him before that morning, he would have tried to save them, and he would have suffered their fate for it.”

“As if you would be so benevolent to let him even think of attempting a rescue,” Lestat said. “If you waited until they died, then you could have Louis to yourself, but he still rejected you.”

“And then became my lover fifteen years later,” Armand said, “while you were wallowing in New Orleans scavenging on vermin. He treated you as a specter because that’s what you were.”

“Enough,” Louis’ voice almost seemed to echo even though it was quiet.

Lestat and Armand immediately turned towards Louis.

“Enough,” Louis repeated. He stood in front of an interior wall, candles flickering nearby. “Claudia and Madeleine…all this time….” He shook his head and looked at Lestat and Armand. “I always knew y’all were treacherous. I always knew yall were cruel. I accepted this. It’s what you both are, what vampires are.” He paused for effect and his eyes rose to the ceiling. “It’s exciting. It’s alluring. It’s maybe even some kind of divine punishment.”

Lestat’s eyes never left Louis while Danniel and Armand’s eyes followed Louis’ gaze. A sprinkler head rested in the center of the ceiling. The mechanism that shut off access to the water slowly turned.

Armand knocked Louis to the ground to break his gaze. Louis fought back. Claws drew blood. Armand tried to subdue Louis. Louis tried to lash out and break free.

Daniel tensed but did not move from the sofa. Lestat watched the fight practically sparkling. He spoke to Daniel conversationally, “You are still here.”

“If I’m going to die, I’d rather be at the epicenter of the disaster and die instantly than suffocate in the elevator or fall down the stairs,” Daniel said.

“Of course.” Lestat’s smile grew whenever Louis gained an upper hand. “Tell me, Daniel. Do you want to die?”

Daniel held his breath a moment. His heartbeat increased. Both yes and no rested against his tongue. “I don’t know.”

Louis broke free from Armand and rushed to his feet. The light glinted off his fangs and Armand’s blood dripped from his nails. His eyes seemed to glow. His body trembled with rage. His stomach rumbled audibly.

“I would like a definite answer,” Lestat said. “Yes or no.”

Louis’ gaze shifted to Daniel. His stomach rumbled again. Daniel’s tongue went dry. Hesitation evaporated. “Not like this.”

Louis rushed forward. Armand leapt into the air and landed in front of Daniel at the same moment Lestat moved. Louis’ fangs dug into Lestat’s arm. The blood seemed to fill Louis’ senses. His eyes closed. He could not stop himself from guzzling.

“Take him!” Lestat said.

“Don’t order me!” Armand lifted Daniel from the sofa without effort.

Daniel opened his mouth to protest but before he could say a word, Armand rushed to the door, opened it with his mind, and slammed the door shut behind them. Daniel could hear the locks clicking back into place. “You can – You can put me down,” Daniel said.

“Not yet.” Armand went to the stairwell. His grip tightened on Daniel and then he lit onto the railing before plunging down the stairwell at a rapid pace.

Dizziness overtook Daniel. His wrapped his arms around Armand’s neck and closed his eyes. The falling seemed endless. They landed with barely a tap of Armand’s shoes on the ground floor landing.

The fire alarms rang. Residents filled the stairs. Armand slipped out the emergency exit. Armand took several leaps, riding the sea breeze almost like a kite, carrying Daniel across highways lined with trees. Breaks squealed and multiple vehicles crashed. Sirens and smoke filled the air. Armand finally landed.

Daniel waited for the dizziness to pass. His feet touched the ground and he slowly let go of Armand. They stood near a bench in a pedestrian area surrounded by high rises. Fire and smoke rose into the sky in the distance. City lights sparkled against a narrow lake in front of them. The sky began to lighten.

“The serial arsonist strikes again,” Daniel murmured. He sat on the bench. His heart raced. He fumbled with his phone and stopped the recording. He closed out of the application and opened an incognito search window.

Armand’s thumb ran along his other hand. He watched the building burning against the dawn.

Daniel scrolled through his flight options. The flight he could afford had a few seats left. His eyes wandered to Armand. The sunrise colored the sky and the buildings. Their portion of the pedestrian area remained in shadow. Daniel licked his lips and said, “The airport is a half hour from here by car. There’s a flight to New York leaving in the middle of the night tomorrow. It has two stops, but there’s still enough seats left for both of us.”

Armand sat on the bench. He peered at the phone screen and scrolled through the flights with his finger. “There are flights with no stops and enough seats.”

“For over one thousand dollars,” Daniel said.

Armand stopped touching the phone. He searched Daniel’s eyes. “Are you inviting me to go home with you?”

Daniel let his phone rest on his thigh before it could fall from his fingers. “Yes. Don’t make me change my mind.” His heart finally slowed. Exhaustion began to take hold.

Armand retrieved his own phone. His thumbs flew across the screen.

Daniel did not remember closing his eyes but almost immediately, Armand’s cold fingers on his arm woke him.

“I’ve secured a ride and a flight.” Armand pressed Daniel’s phone into his hands and slipped his own phone into his pocket.

Daniel pocketed his phone. He followed Armand away from the lake and up towards the street. In less than a day, they would be back in New York City.

   The End  

[rebelpeas]

BAM QUESTIONS

✨ 🎶 🎯 🤲 🤡

HI QWERTY thanks for the questions! i skipped two that i have already answered (✨ and 🤡) this time bc im sleeby tonight 😴

🎶 - Do you listen to music while you write? What song have you been playing on loop lately?

i cannot write without music LOL i make playlists for my long wips and try to only listen to those songs while i’m working on the wip, so it’s a sort of “sit down and focus” soundtrack. for oneshots i tend to loop just one song the whole time i’m writing. lately, i’ve been listening to fold i by motherfolk and chinese satellite by phoebe bridger!

🎯 - Have any of your readers accurately guessed major plot points? Care to share which?

shoutout to the mine theory truthers of devil town! i think at least one person had guessed every reveal, twist, or plot point in devil town by the time we got to the end, with the one exception of (SPOILERS) wilbur being involved in quackity’s dad’s death in any capacity, or, like. anything about karl. i did not see anybody guess that, which was kind of funny and i suspect is probably part of the reason chapter eleven ended up being the most memorable scene in that fic.

also. you with a certain character in footnotes LMAO but you know this

🤲 - Would you please share a snippet of a wip?

this is less of a snippet and more of An Entire Scene because i couldn’t decide which part to grab and just got. all of it. but here is a 500 word chunk from act two of pds 70b for you! warnings ahead for discussions of unreality and death.

“I think I’m going to die in this car,” Wilbur tells Tommy, who is sprawled out across a blanket with one arm over his eyes. It’s just shy of noon; the sun beats down above them, shielded only by the overhang of the building they’ve stopped at for the day. The teenager raises the corner of his lip in the tired approximation of a grossed-out sneer.

“What?”

Wilbur thinks he was pretty obvious the first time. “I’m just gonna keep driving it around until it breaks. Then I’ll live out of it wherever it stops, and eventually I’ll die there. Gonna die in the car. Be buried in it. It’s my tomb, all decorated already and everything.”

This causes Tommy to lift his arm, blue eyes finding Wilbur’s with a scowl. “Has anyone ever told you, you’re fucking morbid?”

“I don’t know,” Wilbur says. “My memory’s bad. That’s insensitive.”

“Fuck you,” Tommy says without a bit of venom to it. He settles back down. “Stop talking about death and let me nap, would you?”

“Okay.” Wilbur puts his back against the wall. “What about you?”

Tommy heaves a sigh and Wilbur can hear the eyeroll that goes with it. “I’m never going to die, actually.”

“No,” Wilbur corrects. “What’ll you do when the car breaks?”

A silent pause hangs between them.

“Well,” Tomm starts, slowly. “I imagine it’ll still be a good while til that happens. Told you, Tubbo’s good with cars. A right mechanic. He’ll keep it moving, and we can go wherever. See who else we can find that’s still around. Oh, we could start a–what’s the word, for like, end of the world shit?”

“What?”

“A community,” Tommy says. “With survivors. We can start farms.”

“I don’t think plants have been growing.”

“What? Oh.” Tommy frowns. “Well, maybe they just need different conditions. We can figure it out.” And after a moment, “How haven’t plants been growing? That doesn’t make any sense. They haven’t died.”

Wilbur shrugs. “You ask the apocalypse how it all works. I haven’t the slightest clue.”

Tommy covers his face again. “I’ll ask tomorrow. Goodnight, Wilbur.”

Wilbur lets him sleep this time. After a few moments, Tommy’s breathing slows into something slow, heavy, and even. He’s a quiet sleeper, whether that’s in the passenger seat of Wilbur’s car or on a blanket in an empty hotel’s lobby, just by the doors where an occasional breeze blows through. The breeze is louder than Tommy’s breathing sometimes.

It startles Wilbur the first time he mixes up the wind for someone breathing. Then it gets stuck in his head. He keeps looking over, half-expecting for Tommy to be gone and to be alone again. Even after the night spent driving together, and the morning spent together scrounging for supplies and finding a cool enough place to sleep, Wilbur still doesn’t quite believe that Tommy is real.

Doesn’t quite believe he’s going to stay.

Tommy is some sort of ghost, he’s pretty sure. Something like a sketchbook high above a canyon, or a name written on a calendar, or a wallet sitting on his dashboard, only a little more tangible. A little louder, when he’s awake, and a little more insistent about it.

So Tommy is the last dredges of Wilbur’s sanity trying to survive, one last-ditch effort to wake himself up and get back into the car and start driving, again, and again, and again. Maybe he isn’t even alive. Maybe it’d worked, back at the canyon–maybe this is just the hallucinated last moments of Wilbur’s life, played through in vivid detail.

Maybe nothing’s real. Maybe trees never fall if no one is there to see it go. Maybe it doesn’t matter.

Tommy is still asleep. One arm over his eyes; blonde hair spilled over maroon carpet. His chest continues to rise and fall. Real or otherwise.

Wilbur dozes off just behind him, and he dreams of something dark in between glittering lights and velvet fabric bundled up inside of his chest.