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tragicromanceisland · 2 years ago

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What Happens in Wonderland, Remains

Character x female reader

A/N: I'm trying to upload all the chapters I have written so far. As well as the newest chapter. Though I'll be posting it on Ao3 first. As this is cross posted. I hope you have enjoyed reading thus far. 💖

Chapter Thirteen

Leona had told you that until you found a place you liked, you were welcome to stay with him. Ruggie explained at breakfast that he often came over in the mornings to make sure Leona was up and made him breakfast before he heads out to practice. Ruggie invited you out to come with them, but you decided it would probably be best if you weren’t seen with Leona so soon. At least until the gossip died down.

So you were on Leona’s computer with his – with permission – trying to search for places you liked. Leona told you he didn’t care how much it cost as long as you liked it. You knew he had a very carefree view about money. Unfortunately, you weren’t like that. You didn’t want the most expensive things in life. You would be happy with a modest living space, and if you could get in touch with Grim, you knew you could probably be able to find some work. You just had a feeling. Plus, you missed your small cat-like companion you had for years.

Though if it was true, and Grim was with Malleus, you wondered why Grim would agree to stay with him? Did Malleus offer him a ton of tuna? You could see him following for a scheme like that. You sighed as you typed in another realtor site. Some you had already found you thought were great until you saw the location. You didn’t want to have to rely on anyone, if you could find something you could use public transportation or even walk it would be ideal.

You leaned back in the chair as you ran a hand over your face. It then dawned on you that you might be more in the spotlight now, with the gossip spreading. Though Leona seemed sure that it would disappear. You wouldn’t be surprised if the royal family had a lawyer already on it to stop the slander and accusations. Though you were sure it was the same with Vil, even though it was probably handled under his PR manager. You were sure Vil wasn’t pleased since it would be easier to quell the questions with yes you were his fiancée. Unfortunately, it wasn’t that easy. You stared at the screen as you saw the thumbnails with several potential apartments.

You glanced at the time and noticed it’d been almost two hours since Ruggie and Leona had left. You pondered how long his spell drive practices lasted. You shook your head, no, you were getting distracted by everything going on in your life, and you needed to focus on this before you sorted out all this information.

You went back to the task at hand and opened the ones you liked in separate tabs. After twenty more minutes passing, you had ten potential places you wanted to go look at. They were moderately priced, and you were sure if you began working, you could easily afford to stay there. It was a lot to consider, though surely there were jobs in this world that non-magic users could obtain. So even without Grim, even though you would love to have him as your partner again, you would be able to survive here. Just like when you first arrived, there was no guarantee you would easily be able to return, especially since you appeared at an entirely different location this time.

You were concerned about the possibility of not being able to return. You felt tired just thinking about it. You were kind of hungry, too. You stood up from the computer desk and stretched before walking out of the office and toward the kitchen. Surely Leona had something in here you could throw together and cook. Searching through the pantry and fridge, you found something that sounded delicious to you. You found a hair tie and pulled your hair up into a ponytail and washed your hands before you began to cook.

The ingredients were as high quality as the ones Vil had. You recalled a brief memory of you and Vil cooking in his kitchen. You frowned as your eyes lowered while you began slicing vegetables. All those little moments you had spent with Vil had meant something to you. It wasn’t like you hated him. He had every reason to be upset. You had become really close to Vil in the past two months. You were almost melancholy at the thought of it repeating with Leona, but the thing is, Leona was giving you freedom to find your own place. You were certain Vil could have offered you the same. Instead, it was as aaif he wished to keep you in a golden cage and lavish you with all the beautiful things he could give you. Though there was nothing like that, you felt trapped in a sense.

You shook your head and finished slicing the vegetables. You then heated up a pan with oil and began to sauté the food. You measured out water and rice and placed it in a rice cooker. As you sautéed the vegetables, you added beef base and hot water with a pinch of corn starch as well. The rice cooker finished steaming the rice when you heard Leona pulling into the garage. You hoped he wouldn’t mind that you were cooking. Leona had a nice kitchen if you were honest, the dark granite counter tops, rich mahogany cabinets, and high-end appliances.

The door opened from the garage, and Leona’s emerald eyes met with yours. His steely gaze then left you as he moved past you like it was nothing. Ruggie followed in after him, carrying his gear, phone, and a few bags.

“Hey Leona, don’t forget to call your brother!”

He grunted in response as he slammed his bedroom door shut. Ruggie sighed.

“Oh hey (y/n) whatcha cooking? It’s smells great.”

“Thanks, I made enough for all of us if you want to stay for lunch?”

“Man, how lucky am I today. Never thought I’d get to try you’re cooking.”

You laughed.

“It’s not that big of a deal.”

“If you say so. Well, I gotta put these things away…I guess.” He huffed, annoyed as he walked off and went somewhere else in the house.

You arched a brow. You wondered what Leona’s brother was calling about. You briefly checked online earlier, and the articles about your and Leona’s relationship spread further throughout the internet. Now the reporters are saying you were trying to make Leona jealous by attending the gala, and that’s why he rushed out of the event with you in his arms. Even though he only did that because you had almost fallen down. You sighed as you finished up the meal and kept it on simmer to keep it warm while Leona showered, and Ruggie was busy doing what he needed to for Leona as his manager.

You wondered if Farena was upset with Leona being caught up in this speculation of being in a relationship or if it was something else. You wondered how Cheka was doing. You smiled to yourself as you recalled the adorable five-year-old from years ago. Cheka should be around nine years old now. You were curious how much he had grown in that time.

“What’re you grinning about over there?”

You blinked as you turned your head to see Leona a towel wrapped around his waist. You raised your brows, and your pupils widened as you took in his gorgeous physique. Your brain short circuited as you tried to find the words to say. Wait, what was I thinking about? Oh no? You turned your back to him, and Leona held that famed smug smirk.

“Heh, what’s the matter…”

You placed a hand on your forehead. You were dreaming right, Leona did not just walk out of his bedroom in just a towel. His body and hair were not still dripping with water. That’s not what you saw.

“I know you’re not that shy.”

You shuddered from his proximity.

“Leona…what are you doing?” You whispered.

You turned around to face him. Oh, that was the wrong choice.

He pressed you back against the counter one arm place beside your head, his hand on the cabinet behind you. The other hand resting on the edge of the granite counter as he trapped you with his body. His emerald eyes held a hint of mischievous as he bowed his head down to your ear.

“You’re in my way.”

“Huh?”

He held a bored expression.

“You’re standing in front of the cabinet I keep my cups in.”

You felt embarrassed as you side-stepped, and he pulled out a glass and proceeded to get a glass of water. You felt like such an idiot of course. He wasn’t going to make a move on you. Not with Ruggie here. You hung your head ashamed. What was wrong with you? You were practically steaming from embarrassment.

Ruggie walked back into the kitchen and noticed the situation. Leona casually drank while you stood off to the side, your hands covering your face. Ruggie lifted a brow. Well, he wasn’t sure exactly what happened, but he could feel some sort of tension.

“Leona, once you get dressed and we sit down for lunch I really think you should call your brother. Before she calls.”

Leona sighed.

“Fine, stop naggin’ me.” He grumbled as he walked off to his room, brushing his tail over your arm as he passed you.

You jerked your head up to see Leona giving you a side smirk. He was totally doing this to you on purpose just to mess with you!

Sitting at the table, Leona was dressed in a t-shirt and sweatpants as the three of you sat at the table eating. Ruggie was talking about the next Spell Drive season. Leona was occasionally nodding, though you doubt he was listening. He seemed distracted by whatever he was thinking about as he was scrolling through his phone. You were staring at your plate as you took bite by bite, slowly cleaning your plate. Leona’s phone rang, he tsked. You glanced up as you noticed he seemed agitated as he answered the phone.

“Yes…?”

You could hear the woman on the other line as Leona pulled the phone away with a blank stare. You could hear her scolding him about not being more responsible, not doing this or that, and then finally he pulled the phone back to his ear. She seemed calmer now.

“He does?”

You knew his sister-in-law was just concerned about Leona.

“Funny you say that…”

Leona’s eyes met with you, again the gleam of mischievousness reflecting in the emerald color of his irises. You lowered your eyes back to your plate. Ruggie arched a brow, looking back and forth between the two of you.

Ruggie knew you and Leona had history, but this seemed like you were crushing on him all over again. Then again, his eyes shifted to Leona. Even Leona seemed to be falling for you all over again. He was sure Leona never stopped feeling what he held for you. No…he knew that was the case. His sister-in-law tried setting him up numerous times while you had been gone. Leona ruined every single one of those dates. Whether it was from speaking too bluntly or falling asleep the moment they began talking about himself. Ruggie had been the unfortunate tag along on every date he had. It was painful to watch. He felt sorry for those women. Then again, the only one beside him who knew Leona had it bad for you was his nephew Cheka. To the point Cheka even started getting on Leona’s nerves because he kept bringing you up in conversation.

Leona hung up the phone. He was irritated. He couldn’t say no. He was hoping he could have talked himself out of seeing them again. Except this time, he had no reasonable excuse. He had no choice but to accept his sister-in-law’s request of bringing you to meet his family. He flit his eyes to you, watching as you picked at your rice. Would you be able to handle his family? A rumble emitted in his chest. He wasn’t sure why they had to meet you. Wasn’t it good enough that he was telling them your name? No, they wanted to see you. Hadn’t they already seen you from the photos online. Then again, they blurred your face it wasn’t exactly a good photo, but it was good enough.

He knew they would nag him about settling down. It was so frustrating. He didn’t have to follow his brother’s footsteps. It’s not like it would do any good. He could get married, and his potential wife could produce an heir, and yet it wouldn’t mean anything. Would they receive the recognition they deserved? No. As long as Farena was alive, as long as his nephew was alive. He would never have any worth in this family where the first born in the family was always recognized. His family aside, he had concerned a possibility of marriage. He found himself observing you again. When your eyes met his gaze, he felt his heart flutter. He clenched the fork in his hand tighter as he averted your watchful eye.

The possibility of him settling down…

A brief picture of a future with you, he saw it.

A summer day beneath the shade of a large tree, enjoying a leisurely picnic, you lovingly stroking his cheek while gazing at him with devotion and appreciation. Like he was the king of your world. And how wonderful you would look with a baby bump.

“…na? Leona?”

Ruggie snapped his attention back from his reverie. Leona’s eyes flit to Ruggie’s. Ruggie sighed.

“You need anything for tomorrow? I’m going to run some errands before I head home?”

Leona placed his fork across his plate and stood up.

“No. I’m tired, so I’m gonna lay down, you’re free to do what you wish (y/n).” He waved his hand as he walked off to his room and closed the door behind him. He laid down on his bed as he stared at his ceiling.

That possibility was solely dependent on you.

Ruggie glanced over at you.

“Well, wanna get out of the house? Leona did mention picking you up a phone. He gave me his wallet too so it’s no problem.”

You arched your brow as you glanced at the now closed bedroom door. You wondered if he was okay.

“Sure, it would be good to get out.”

Ruggie grinned. “Let’s go shopping, shee hee hee.”

#twisted wonderland #leona x reader #leona kingscholar #ruggie bucchi #x female reader #《🦋writes 》

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skarletterambles · 3 months ago

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Bygone bits and bytes

How can I end a four-day weekend more stressed than I started it?

Well, a lot of it has to do with caregiving burnout, but the cherry on the shit sundae today was discovering a combination of confusion and executive dysfunction made me lose the domain name I'd had for 25 years.

I hadn't been using it as a personal website for several years, and took down my super old content last fall, but my dad still had some local sports stuff on it. It wasn't a fancy, catchy, high value domain, either. Just our last name with two extra letters tacked on, but noooooo, apparently some domain sniper in Florida decided to snap it up. So if I decide to have a website again someday I'll have to start over with a new name.

My dad had another domain name that redirected to the part he ran, which has also lapsed somehow but hasn't been taken. I suppose I'll have to reregister his domain, get a new hosting plan, and just upload his stuff. He was really having trouble keeping up with it, cognitively, last winter, so I don't know how well it's going to go now. (See above re: caregiver stress.)

It's all made me think about how I REALLY miss the old days of the internet (mid to late 1990s through the early 2000s), before social media took over and made it this cookie-cutter, impersonal, commercialized, transient place. (And yes I realize the irony of posting this on social media.)

Personal websites used to be a common thing, with sections for your various interests and fandoms. Most people used Geocities or a similar freebie host, but the cool kids had their own domain names and ad-free sites. Now it seems like the only people with personal sites are those selling something, and everyone else just uses social media. I miss being able to have full control over the look of my content, with custom backgrounds and layouts and, yes, even funky animated .gifs.

(That's the tip of the iceberg of ancient .gifs lurking in the depths of my computer from the Olden Days.)

Anyway, I used to be able to easily make a website, upload, and manage it, but now when I look at potential web hosts' sites it's an incomprehensible alphabet soup of terms. I can see why nobody wants to learn SQLCSSOMGWTFBBQ in order to have a personal site when it's a heck of a lot easier to just post crap on social media with a few clicks.

Crap. I sound old. In this context, I guess I am.

BACK IN MY DAY, we hard coded HTML barehanded! Uphill! In the snow! You kids today with your Instas and X-es and QR codes on your newfangled phones! When I was a teenager we had a plain text message board to squee over fandoms on, and we LIKED IT! We had guestbooks, page view counters, and web rings! Yahoo! was the go-to search engine and you got real results in an organized manner, none of this sponsored garbage or AI telling us to eat glue. No, we chugged along at 56k and if you didn't make tiny thumbnails of the art you posted that people could choose to click on and then wait a minute or two for a picture to load, you were a pariah. Amazon was a river in South America, and streaming was just a description of someone peeing. We listened to MIDI music on purpose!

I'll stop. But I'm only half kidding. The nostalgia is real.

#personal anecdote #personal vent post #personal rant

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madelineariah · 2 years ago

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2023/April 14th - Creative

I have been a bit exhausted the last few days.

My sleep schedule got kinda messed up, though this is not entirely out of character for me when I get fixated on a new idea. I decided about a week or two ago that I would try to revitalize my interest in video production. I probably should preface this by saying that I tried running a YouTube channel back in 2020. Probably not the best time to get into it, but it was what it was.

When I did it, I was narrating some of the novels that I have written over the years. Writing is my passion, yet it’s not a compatible medium with many of the passions and interests of most people these days. People want interactive media – it’s why they turn to visual novels or YouTube videos or games to get their reading in.

The videos I made honestly never really felt like they were at their fullest potential. It felt like I didn’t have the proper tools to bring my words to life, and I became very frustrated by the outcome. While I reached 60 subscribers during that time period, I eventually became so bothered by the quality of my own content that I deleted all of it from existence and put the channel on hiatus.

Recently, though, I have had a change of direction in my life. I decided that because racing videogames have been a lifelong hobby of mine, I would like to do highlight videos surrounding my favorite racing games. As such, I’ve spent the last several days prepping videos for a May 1st debut. I have about seven completed already.

What I’ve noticed so far is that because I have better equipment now, that alone has given me more confidence in my abilities. In 2020, I was video editing on a Chromebook (which many of you might not think possible, but I assure you, it is). The videos were serviceable, but they lacked the kind of professional quality that I wanted of them.

Now, though, I have an enterprise-level Windows desktop with an enterprise-level GPU that I was using for CAD applications during my last round of college (see my post about going to college three damn times).

Since my drafting stuff is currently on hiatus, I figure that I should probably get my money’s worth from the machine, and it turns out that it can encode a 10 minute 720p video in about 45 seconds. Not bad. As far as the games, I am recording them on an Xbox One X which I have calibrated to record in 720p because Xbox DVR requires your clips be processed over the cloud, and my internet – while good in terms of download speed – is terrible at upload speed.

I learned recently that Xbox DVR files corrupt very easily. Audio sync issues are also very common. So… Not the best start.

Nonetheless, I do feel like the way I have things set up lends itself to my style of video production. What I’m doing is recording individual races and events in-game and then creating highlight reels from them. Some of these highlight videos have a story to them, even.

The audio sync is easy enough to fix using the video editing software. That said, I have lost a handful of good clips due to file corruption – which led to much sulking.

To prevent myself from going insane, I’m probably only gonna upload twice a week – Monday and Thursday. This gives me 2-3 days between videos to work on each one. So far, I’ve noticed it takes approximately 90 minutes to encode enough clips for a 10 minute video, and then editing takes two to four hours depending on storyboarding, effects used, and also needing to create the thumbnails for each video.

And of course, my videos are going to have overlays that show my channel name and eventually things like a Twitter link, Ko-Fi link, etc. If I ever decide to stream, those same overlays could be used to show stream-related info (I think that’s how it works). But getting that sophisticated is gonna take time, I guess.

For the first month, I figure I will use a compact overlay (just a banner, really). Then after, I will make a full-screen overlay in 1080p with the 720p gameplay footage in windowed mode. That’s the plan, anyway. There’s still so much I need to figure out, and I am doing all of this myself.

I would say that my goal is simply to attract people who love the same things I love and who I can share memories with. Like, as a gamer, I often play alone. I don’t really have “gaming friends.” I’d like that to change.

#journal #diary entry

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mythic-raccoon · 3 years ago

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This is a PSA that will reach almost no one

Go watch at least one video from Mithzan, I would recommend Randomizer Royale, Dude! That’s My Seat, or the parkour videos because they give you a good idea of his content (though the parkour videos, especially the older ones, tend to be on the louder side of the spectrum) and are consistently quite fun and are fast paced (though long) compared to hide and seek or Minecraft Murder, which are both great but tend they tend to be on the chill side. He is one of the most supportive CCs of pretty much any community. A fine example of this was in June when he struggled and researched (asked actual people in the community) for which pan flag, the brighter or more muted one, to make sure he was doing something that made most people comfortable. Eventually he used both in his intro, which includes the pride flags in June, when he couldn’t get a solid answer. Said pride intro also includes a lot of flags for about 5 seconds. He uploads longer videos (20 minutes to a little over an hour, usually around 30-45 minutes) and does it daily, though Max will sacrifice a daily upload if it’s not of good quality. His community is tied with Petezahhutt for best I’ve seen, and he actively interacts with the fanbase (his Twitter PFP is almost always credited fanart, though right now it’s the Halloween one because it’s funny to see how long it lasts). Everyone in his videos are genuine friends and are also good people as far as I’m aware. He has remained rather static due (for the most part) to the algorithm as he favors well-drawn and very nice thumbnails over the more clickbait ones that YT prefers (the artist is Lunar_iink by the way, also amazing). I’m not saying to go subscribe, just to give him a shot.

#mithzan #MCYT

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holycow99 · 3 years ago

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石田お寿司 12/9/21 stream translation Part 1

This is not the full translation of the stream. I only translated the parts I could understand & interpret or parts I found interesting/important. I’m still a beginner in Japanese, so the translations may not be accurate. If you want to repost, please repost at your own risk.

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I: Hello. Can you hear me? Good night. (t/n: He’s replying to a comment.) You can hear me? Hello. Welcome.

I: My tone sounds great today, ***-kun? (t/n: OP commented that his tone sounds great.) Of course I’ll be excited in the beginning of the stream. But only in the beginning.

C: Your voice somehow sounds young.

I: It’s because I just slept.

*Typing on twitter

I: I finally did it. This is a simultaneous worldwide stream. Do you understand it? Ah, I’m so tired. I’m tired of sleeping.

I: I’ll be drinking my coffee. Itadakimasu.

I: It was a long vacation, wasn’t it? When was the last time you guys heard from me? On September…Well, it doesn’t matter.

I: I don’t have anything particular to do for this stream. I just felt like it.

C: I’ve been listening to your streams repeatedly during holiday.

I: Thank you.

C: We last heard from you at the end of August.

I: I see. Thanks.

C: Thank you for your hard work on the manuscript!

I: I did the rough sketches first. I was brainstorming.

*Someone commented on Animal Rap.

I: Animal rap? I actually wanna try this. Actually, I’ve done recording for one video, but won’t it be scary if suddenly in the middle of the stream, animal rap video is uploaded. Without saying anything, suddenly there’s a new animal rap video being uploaded. Won’t it be scary stream?

(t/n: I’m not sure if the translations for this part is correct. He said something more but I haven’t reached this level of Japanese understanding skill. Forgive me.)

C: Animal rap itself is scary, so it’s okay.

I: What a hilarious thing to say. Are you actually afraid of animal then?

C: Have you got vaccinated?

I: Nope, since I’ve been locked up in my house. I want to though. I want to get injected a lot. Around 10 times.

C: Sensei, did you read Berserk chapter 364?

I: Is it the final chapter?

Y****: Let’s inject the head.

I: Nice one, Y****. Well, since Y**** is an introvert at school, he must be a non-popular kid. Because he doesn’t have any friends, he can’t wait to meet me. Is it like that? Hahahaha.

I: I’m not even aware of the things happening around me. I don’t even know when the exhibition in Osaka will open. I want you guys to tell me about me.

C: I’m aiming to be a mangaka, but having someone that can be a mentor for me to learn from is better, as expected?

I: I don’t think so. It depends. In some degree, it’s better to do it by yourself. If you really wanna write a manga and you wanna create an environment that allows you to do so, if there’s a chance to be an assistant, I think it’s better for you to grab it. Because you’re still not familiar with how these things work. I think it’s better to be an assistant first. You don’t have to be one for a long time though.

C: I want to diet. Where should I start?

I: Record your weight. Measure your weight and record it in calendar. Doing that makes you feel conscious about your weight. You’ll probably can lose weight that way.

C: Are you still eating oatmeal?

I: I’ve been eating Onigiri only.

C: I wanna change job, but I’m anxious to because of the economic situation. Please encourage me!

I: It’s better for you to change job, since you said you wanted to. I think everyone is anxious. There’s no one who isn’t.

C: I’m happy that the JJ illustration that you posted on twitter will be made into goods!

I: Yeah, without my permission. Hahaha. When the illustration was made into goods without my permission, I was like “Eh? This is…”. I’ll stop talking about this. Hahaha. I won’t talk about this.

*Someone commented about Kingdom exhibition.

I: I wanna go to the Kingdom exhibition.

I: What I said just now (about JJ illustration) was a lie. Please forget about it. Are there companies like that? Of course not. I was just joking. If that’s the case, then anybody can freely turn my illustrations into goods. Though there’s a person who sent me the PugMax t-shirt.

C: I wanted to be a mangaka when I was small. As I got older, I only immersed myself in the real world. I’ll be a civil servant starting from next year. I don’t have the courage to challenge myself, so I want to give my unconditional support to those who are.

I: I don’t know how old you are, but you can still draw even if you become a civil servant. Just draw one if you really want to.

C: You have to collect royalty.

I: I do get royalty. I get 5 yen in total.

C: How old will you be this year?

I: 250,000 years old.

C: How are you?

I: Like usual. But I made progress on the manuscript, so I’m relieved. I kinda forgot how to draw it.

C: I thought you were in your 30s.

I: Nope, I’m far older.

C: You haven’t started game streaming?

I: I’m haven’t decided yet for today.

*People were discussing about his age.

I: Doesn’t matter how old I am.

C: Do you prefer women with long hair or short hair?

I: Short hair.

*People commented about Heavy Rain.

I: Oh, you want to see me playing Heavy Rain? I’m okay with that. I’m okay with playing games or anything. I’ll be a yes-man for today. Everyone’s yes-man & toy, Ishida Osushi.

*Someone commented about Animal Rap again.

I: I wanted to say something about this. I’ve done the animal rap video. I only upload videos I’ve received from the animal themselves, not me. But I was afraid to upload it, so I refrained from doing so. I wanna try uploading the video while streaming. That’s what I wanted to say. Well, it doesn’t really matter. I just upload it after I finish streaming. I don’t understand the need to upload the video and streaming at the same time.

(t/n: He said something more, but again, info on Animal rap is hard for me to decipher. I’m really sorry.)

C: What did you watch recently?

I: Movies.

C: There were people who got scared by the fact that Ishida Sui raps.

I: No, you’re wrong. Ishida Sui doesn’t rap. Ishida Sui doesn’t do streaming as well.

C: Do mangakas have the chance to meet women?

I: It depends on the person. The ones who’re locked up in the house won’t. But…That’s right. You might if the workplace has mixed genders. You also have the chance to meet people during party or some sort. I’ll always be at the corner every time I go to parties. It’d be nice if the party was fun and the staffs could enjoy themselves. I also said that I went to parties to take a break, but I hated it.

C: You’re not going to parties?

I: Nope, I won’t. The company doesn’t hold them as well because of the current situation. Even if I did, I wouldn’t know what to do. I don’t really eat the food, and introducing myself to people is tiresome.

I: S****** is here.

S******: Ishida Osushi can become a pro mangaka.

I: I’m aiming for it.

C: Fukuoka suits you, sensei.

I: Somehow, I feel grateful. It’s like you’re telling me that it’s okay for me to live in Kyushu.

(t/n: Kyushu is an island where Fukuoka is located.)

C: Sir Osushi, what do you think of Sir Sui?

I: I have a murderous intent towards him.

C: Does the thumbnail hold any meaning?

I: It does. Look forward to it.

C: Being a streamer suits you (Osushi) better than being a mangaka.

I: Hahaha.

C: The drawings of Neji (JJ character) by Ms. Towada were wonderful!

I: That’s right. Neji drawn by Ms. Towada. I want you guys to tell me something like this. I want you guys to tell me about my current situation. Things like, “would you retweet this?”, “This is JJ’s…”, “The CD’s also…”. Let me change my twitter account. First is Ms. Towada, right? Let’s retweet Ms. Towada’s tweets. I thought of drawing something like this. She drew quite a lot. She drew him more than me. I feel bad having her to draw it. I feel grateful rather than feeling bad. She drew a lot of them. Yonaga’s illustration looks nice. I see… There’s like an incomplete rough drawing. I thought of copying and drawing that illustration. I’ll just retweet this. Tell me what should I retweet next.

C: Is Ms.Towada doing well as well?

I: I talked to her a few days ago.

I: Do read Fool Night.

C: Do you like Aespa? (t/n: Aespa is a kpop girl group. Ishida had drawn one of the members.)

I: The girl caught my attention. I thought she was beautiful.

*Someone commented about his illustration of Ano-chan. (t/n: Ano-chan is a Japanese singer. Ishida had come to her radio programme once, and he did the album cover for her latest album.)

I: Ano-chan! What happened to that? Have you seen the album cover? It’s already out?

*Someone commented about Fool Night.

I: The world in Fool Night is super amazing. It was quite a while ago, the person in charge of the Superior magazine watched one of my streams and asked me if I could write some comments. I was like “Don’t tell me that!” (referring to watching his stream). I hate being seen. But then, I was like “whatever.” I usually turned it down, but I just wrote for this one.

*Someone commented about Wooma (t/n: an illustrator.)

I: Who’s Wooma? Let me check it.

C: Sensei, I’m a good child. So, is it okay for me to sleep?

I: Yes, of course.

C: Sensei, do you smoke?

I: No.

I: Ah, Wooma is the illustrator for the song ‘Usseewa’. Sorry for the lack of knowledge.

C: Do you watch Christopher Nolan’s works?

I: I’m not that familiar with movies, but I may or may not watch it. I’ve been getting into movies lately. I searched for the movies Takahashi Kunimitsu told me about. You tend to watch anything when you’re obsessed with movies, right? I was also obsessed with history for a while after I learned how fun it was from Takahashi Kunimitsu. I’ve been reading 2-3 books on history a day lately.

C: Until what time are you gonna stream?

I: Today is infinite as well. We have another 12 minutes left. Haha. I’ll keep on streaming today. I won’t end the stream today. It may end tomorrow. (t/n: He definitely kept his words.)

C: Sensei, do you like itzy? (t/n: Itzy is another kpop girl group, and Ishida had also drawn one of the members.)

I: Yes.

I: Tomorrow is a holiday? There are people who are not working tomorrow.

C: What are you drinking?

I: Coffee.

C: You only need another 800 people to reach 30,000 subscribers.

I: Yeah. It’s gonna reach 30,000. I have to make an appreciation stream or video for 30,000 subscribers. A lot of youtubers are doing this, so I have to do it too. I wanna do it. Feels like a youtuber. Isn’t it fun? I wonder what should I do for it? What would be fun? Let’s go with this concern first. I get lost if I don’t go one-by-one. It’s one of my bad habits.

*They’re planning on what Ishida should do when he reaches 30,000 subscribers.

C: Show your nails.

I: I don’t do manicure.

C: Heavy Rain.

I: Wanna play Heavy Rain as well.

C: Please let us hear your sneeze.

I: There is such person sometimes. Creepy.

C: Why don’t you play Ghosts n Goblins for now?

I: After the stream, I felt like playing the game. They had something like magical clock, though I forgot the name. The one that double the speed of the game. I really wanted to play that, honestly. Though, it wasn’t suitable for streaming. I thought of playing it in my own time. I really like that kind of games.

C: Will you sing when you reach 30,000?

I: During the previous silent stream, Queen Bee’s song was playing. Those who watched may know. I thought of appearing for a moment and sing and then end the stream. I wouldn’t do it, but I just thought about it. At that time, I wanted to try having just an illustration stream.

C: I’m waiting for an autograph session after the Corona ends.

I: The pandemic probably won’t end for at least 2-3 years.

*Someone wanted him to sing Gaston’s song.

I: Gaston. Singing, huh? Hahaha, why am I having second thoughts? I thought I’m okay with anything.

C: how about a karaoke battle?

I: Karaoke battle, huh?

C: Do you have any piercings?

I: I’m not wearing one right now, but I do have it. (t/n: I didn’t expect him to have a piercing. He’s really different than what I imagined a mangaka to be. XD)

C: I’m hoping for JJ’s song covers!

I: JJ? JJ’s songs are difficult. It was super hard during the time I did the covers. Seriously, when I heard it back…The cover for the opening theme was scary. I thought my singing ability had increased since I recorded this one the last. A few months ago, I listened to it after a long time, it was…what should I call it? A sutra, no, a curse. Me and JJ’s opening theme. I forgot the title of the song. Jack and something. There were parts in the songs where the female and male characters had to harmonise. To convey that part, I had to cover the song multiple times. I multiplied into 7 people, since I had to record as Kisa as well. When I was recording Kisa’s part, the other version of me at the back, probably Kai, was harmonising with me. I was told to deepen my voice by Mr.Kasama. So embarrassing. The voice was really low. I was drawn by Mr. Kasama’s voice. His voice was really good when he said ‘Broccoli’ for the cm.

*Ishida imitating Mr. Kasama.

I: It’s cooler than this.

*Imitating him once again.

I: I was like “So cool!”

C: Invite the animals that appeared in Animal rap as guests.

I: That’s a good idea. But what would the guests be doing? It’s absolutely hard to do that. It’s hard to invite the animals because of corona.

C: The title is “Jack & Jeanne of Quartz”.

I: Right. Thank you.

C: Won’t you invite Hanae?

I: I won’t. That’s impossible. (t/n: I want to see him playing horror games with Hanae Natsuki.)

Part 2

#ishida sui #tokyo ghoul #jack jeanne #choujin x #chojin x #ishida sushi channel

34 notes · View notes

13atoms · 3 years ago

Text

Deep Focus: Chapter 1 [Tom Hiddleston x Reader]

Summary: Tom’s a successful porn director with a romantic streak which proves very popular with his female audience. His resident porn actress and business partner has been with him through thick and thin, the two of them growing completely inseparable, even as her own career starts taking off.

But working in such close proximity is intense, and burgeoning feelings threaten to complicate their professional relationship.

Mature, smut, porn director!AU, ethical porn production discussion, porn-star-and-coworker!reader. Friends to lovers, slow-ish burn. [7.7k]

________________________________________________________

There was such a style to everything Tom wrote, everything he directed. A sincere passion that you suspected was always meant to be used elsewhere. You wondered if his craftsmanship was ever appreciated, on the other side of the screen, as strangers got hot and bothered watching each meticulously designed frame of his vision come to life.

Sure, it was porn. But Tom directed it like he could win an Oscar for ‘hot lifeguard pounded poolside’. This was his livelihood, his passion, and it was a damn shame he wasn’t award-season eligible.

The names would make you wince, as you saw them uploaded to the site, thumbnails and previews drawing in viewers by the million with their shots of heaving bodies and glistening sweat. Tom never called the videos such crass things. Not in his scripts. You would get copies titled ‘Romantic Night In’ or ‘Office Love Affair.’ He was a fan of sugar-coating what would be inside those innocuous white pages, a veneer of respectability which Tom insisted upon, regardless of how obvious the true nature of the videos was. But once the videos were sold, it was out of his hands. Your face contorted mid-faux-orgasm would be plastered across the site, and everyone involved would try and forget what happened.

Ignore the comments.

Keep moving.

You often wondered how Tom wound up in this place, with his sharply tailored suits and polished shoes, eloquent and educated, his words almost poetic as he directed mid-budget porn in hotel rooms and his studio day-in, day-out.

Then again, he never seemed particularly bothered by it. He gave each shoot his full attention, his full boundless enthusiasm and all the professionalism he could muster. You wondered how he balanced it, sometimes, the creative drive to press on with trying to be creative and shoehorn romance into films knowing that, ultimately, it was porn.

He had interviewed you like a real director might, talking about your life and experience and ambitions, almost apologetic when he had finally choked out ‘could you undress’, barely glancing at your naked form before he hired you as his first employee.

You asked him early on, while watching him try and assemble a fake restaurant-date set in the studio, complete with faux windows and an extra playing a waiter, why he bothered when three-minutes of good quality fucking footage would make him the same amount of money. He’d given you a strange smile, the wrinkles beginning to appear at the corners of his eyes, and shrugged.

“I make what I’d like to see.”

The words haunted you later, as your rather attractive co-star bent you over the white-cloth covered dining table and you allowed mewls and groans to escape your mouth without a second thought. Trying to avoid the muted blue of Tom’s eyes behind the cameraman.

Despite your reservations when you first started to work for him, Tom had won you over. His gentler, more romantic approach to pornography had a loyal following. Both of your pseudonyms garnered huge numbers of views across various platforms, and Tom was keen to cultivate a collection of female-friendly porn. Against all the odds, it was working.

And you loved working with him. He was a great director, and inspired writer, and a genuinely brilliant boss. He made sure you saw royalties, good pay, that everyone you worked with was screened and tested, always keeping you safe. Always.

Each time he called a wrap, passing you a robe and offering a meek congratulations on your performance, you found yourself more and more pleased you had wound up working with him.

“You really do have a talent,” he’d told you one day, distracting you as you discussed a new script in his office.

You were sat opposite him, Tom’s glasses perched on his head as he watched you read, your feet resting against the leg of his desk. You’d come in to your shared workspace to try some costumes out, to discuss new scenes, still recovering from a thoroughly exhausting shoot the day before. There were still light bruises around your wrists, and you caught Tom glancing at them worriedly each time your long-sleeved shirt slipped.

“I love that you’re such an actor,” he continued, hands tapping the desk as he spoke, “like, a real actor.”

Your eyes drifted across the script, scanning it with your bottom lip between your teeth. He always appreciated your input, wanting the ‘female fantasy’ in a lot of his work, and he’d timidly shown you some ‘student-professor’ script he’d been working on. He was like that, embarrassed in a way which you wouldn’t expect from a man with his considerable experience in adult entertainment. He was assertive, certain, even stern where it counted. But with just the two of you together, dancing around what was sexy and what wasn’t, he seemed desperate to avoid saying anything you might perceive as too ‘crude’.

“What do you mean?” you’d chuckled, still flicking through the first draft.

He only entrusted you with such early versions of his work – but that made sense. Your careers were symbiotic, tied to one another with an unspoken pact. He directed everything you were in, and you were in everything he directed.

It made sense.

“You don’t just… I don’t know. You never make my scripts seem silly. Or cheesy. You… you really try and make them feel real. I could write anything, and you’ll deliver the lines well. I was overseeing auditions earlier and... I just kept thinking none of them were you. I think you might be the best in the business.”

You rolled your eyes, offering him a disbelieving smirk, and he scoffed.

“I’m serious! I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

The weight of his words settled heavy in your chest, and you turned back to the script, frowning as you flicked through the loose-leaf pages. Tom fidgeted behind his desk, unhappy with losing your attention, but you ignored him.

“Here. If you want the fantasy to be believable, I think he needs to lock the office door. Make a show of it, you know. Cover my mouth,” you comment dismissively. Tom already has as pen in his hand, making notes. “It could be hot, maybe ‘Don’t make a sound or you can’t cum’, something like that. As if there’s other students in the corridor outside.”

Nodding, Tom dutifully wrote down your words, mouth slightly open in realisation as he listened.

“Don’t make a sound…” Tom repeated, and you felt yourself blush.

“Not… not that exactly,” you backtracked, “you’re the real writer! I just think, there needs to be some build up. A remind of the power dynamic. Him going straight to oral is a bit… fast. That could happen in any old plot, you know?”

You felt his eyes on you, looking up from the paper to spot Tom leaning back in his chair, a distant smile on his face.

“You really are the best,” he praised, “that’s great. I’ll do rewrites tonight.”

For a moment, you let his words hang heavy in the air. Then you blinked back at him, a slight frown pinching your forehead at his strange mood. He was calm, for once. Tom was usually a ball of enthusiasm, and you wondered if your dismissal of his words earlier had done something to hamper his spirit.

“It’s always easier to critique,” you dismissed, “I love the script, it’s great. I really think it’ll be good. Hot. Maybe I can wear a Britneyschool girl costume, or something?”

He frowned a little, pinching the bridge of his nose at the thought.

“No, weird. We’re going for University student, just… a nice pair of jeans or something.”

“Don’t they wear suits where you went, posh boy?” you teased, loving how it riled him up. “I’ll try and dress like a smart person.”

“You are smart, don’t give me that.”

You rolled your eyes, loving how you managed to fluster him, putting the script back on his cluttered desk as you reached for your bag. This was how your meetings always went, a few hours of notes, some teasing, and a hasty retreat once Tom told you the next shoot day you had to attend. You still had a few hours of social media to do for the last video you’d shot together, notes from Tom, and you lamented the sight of the sun setting outside of your shared office. You’d hoped for at least a bit of natural light today.

“I’m serious, you are!” Tom asserted, and you ignored him purposely as you shut down your laptop, preparing to take it home.

“Yeah, I know, whatever. Don’t work too late!”

“Rich coming from you,” he sighed, “it really doesn’t matter if we send that last edit late.”

“It matters to me! I’d quite like to get paid this week, you know?”

Tom sighed. The two of you tried to produce a couple of videos a week – one for Tom’s site and another to sell to a third party. It didn’t leave either of you with much free time, both of you left in the tiny office at all hours as you worked to keep up with demand.

“Very true. But I’d rather you got some sleep, you know I can help if you’re short on money,” he offered, shuffling papers on his own desk.

He was always quick to jump to an offer to help, and you tried to ignore the fondness spreading through your chest at his eagerness to look out for you. That gentle protectiveness which coursed through Tom was enough to make you melt.

He was one in a million, that was for sure.

“I’m fine, Tom. Thank you though, I’ll ask, if, y’know –”

“Do! Any time. Actually…”

Tom cut himself off, typing something into his phone, and your pocket buzzed with a notification.

“Get yourself a nice dinner.”

You checked your phone to see a transfer from Tom. It wasn’t a crazy amount, but too much for just dinner, and you huffed performatively as he grinned at you.

“No! Don’t be ridiculous –”

He barely made more than you, and you were certainly doing perfectly comfortably.

“Royalties are really good this month. That old break-up sex video is trending again, apparently.”

You smothered a smile. It was hate-fucking, as you’d told Tom a hundred times. That was the title. You could still remember the look on his face the day you’d filmed it, his twitchiness, the unknown male actor who had slightly scared both of you with his sheer size as he stepped into the studio. The male star had fucked you like you’d broken his heart, hands on your neck and hips bruising yours as he pounded into you, and you’d be a little alarmed at how little you had needed to act in his domineering presence. He’d been muscular and tall and assertive, almost injuring you with his enthusiasm, and the shoot had ended with you a sweaty mess, struggling to walk, eyes watery.

You had ached from the moment Tom helped you up from the bed, a protective body between you and your costar as you watched the man collect his clothes and his paycheck. The footage had been great, you’d watched Tom edit it, but it had been your first taste of Tom’s protectiveness. The actor had never returned, and Tom had bought a hot water bottle for the office, pressing it into your lap as he brought tea for the pair of you, loathing how you winced as you moved.

He’d taken you out for dinner that night to celebrate a good edit, but you knew the real reason. That neither of you wanted the other to be alone. It had been a lovely evening, a restaurant then a bar, without a break in laughing conversation the entire night. It hadn’t been a date, but if it had been a date, it would’ve been the nicest date you’d ever been on. In those moments, you wondered if Tom was really cut out for the industry. If you were.

As much as Tom hated the film, it was hot. It had propelled your studio into the spotlight, and it paid a significant chunk of your rent.

“Thank you,” you smiled to him, wracking your mind for anything else that needed discussing before you headed home.

Maybe you’d get takeaway. That would be nice.

Tom cleared his throat.

“What are we shooting tomorrow, by the way?”

You looked up at his words, frowning a little at the realisation you hadn’t been given a script yet. It was unlike him, to be so unprepared. Usually everything was organised weeks in advance. With a glance at the shadows under his eyes, you decided not to tease him about it.

“We’re shooting tomorrow?”

“This week… we’ve only got one video. I was just thinking something simple, I haven’t called a costar yet, but we don’t have to if you don’t want to –”

It was your paycheck on the line as much as Tom’s, and you wondered how the hell you’d forgotten.

“Do we have a camera crew?” you frowned.

“No, not yet. I can call though. Or I could just do it myself, if we’re not doing anything too complicated?”

You thought for a moment, leaning against the open doorframe as Tom started to pack up his own desk, nimble fingers tapping across his keyboard.

“Solo?” you suggested, stifling a laugh as Tom blinked and tilted his head to face you.

“I missed that, love?”

“Solo. Like ‘hot female solo’ or something?”

He smiled slightly, closing his laptop lid.

“That’ll do well, I’m sure. Do we need anything costume-wise? Props?”

Toys. He meant toys. You smiled at his refusal to call a spade a damn spade.

“I’m sure we can find everything here. It’ll be nice to do a simple shoot for a change,” you enthused, holding the door for Tom as he moved to turn off the lights, lingering nearby as he locked up the office.

“Yeah. Single-shot, no camera-man either.”

“Cheap,” you sighed, as though it was the sexiest thing in the world.

You did the books, and avoiding having any more costs this month sounded great.

“Yeah,” Tom smiled, falling into step beside you as the two of you left the warehouse studio.

He looked ready to say something else, but changed his mind. For a second the two you stood by the exit, words trapped beneath your closed lips as the early evening air enveloped you.

“Do you need a lift home?” Tom finally offered.

“No. No, I’m good. Thank you.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, yeah. Usual time. Twelve?”

“Perfect.”

He reached an arm out, ready for you to walk into his embrace, and you froze. The moment was over as soon as it started, his arm retracted, and you could only stare. His hand found the curls at the back of his head, scratching there, a blush dusting his cheeks in the harsh fluorescent lights of the car park. You could kick yourself as you watched the bob of his Adam’s apple, the clench of his jaw. He felt awkward. You contemplated hugging him, but the moment had passed. Instead you rocked on your heels for a second, before turning to leave.

“Bye, Tom!”

“‘Night! Look after yourself, don’t forget dinner. I’ll see you – ”

He cut himself off as you walked too far away, and you could have kicked yourself for the sadness in his final syllable. You sighed as your feet fell against the pavement, your whole walk home haunted by the awkward shuffle of Tom’s hands as he went to hug you goodbye.

You were surprised by how difficult it was to brush off that awkward memory. As you ordered and ate dinner, you were reminded of Tom with every bite, that he’d snuck aside part of the company’s petty cash budget to give you dinner. That both of you had gone home, separately, to separate empty houses and empty beds.

Had he wanted to go for drinks? Wanted company? You had come to accept a long time ago that the man was your closest friend. He would be the person you called in an emergency, a shoulder to cry on. You liked to think he’d lean on you the same way.

Despite that, you spent limited time together outside of a professional context. You never met up on weekends, or casually called. Of course you didn’t. He made a career out of seeing you naked, watching you fake orgasms for other men. As you readied yourself for the day, you reminded yourself that of course, he would be nice to his only full-time, very lucrative actress. To his business partner.

As you’d queued up the company’s social media posts the night before, you could only think of Tom behind the camera, orchestrating each photo and clip you uploaded.

You couldn’t help the grin which split your face as you walked into the studio, bag flung over your shoulder, overpacked with everything you thought you could possibly need. Tom greeted you, emerging from his office with a smile.

Before you could overthink it, you walked into his arms, giving him very little choice in the matter as you greeted him with a hug. In his surprise you felt his body stiffen, his arms slowly wrapping around you, and you were momentarily gobsmacked by the muscular form he seemed to hide behind those suits.

He was a little more dressed down today, smart black jeans and a button-up white shirt, unruly hair sticking up like it did when he forgot to brush it. He looked better than yesterday, like he’d had a good night’s sleep.

“Good morning,” he chuckled, bemusement clear in his voice.

You pulled back from the hug, a little embarrassed at the affection until you saw the smile stretching across his face, reaching his eyes. Suddenly the previous night, worrying you had inadvertently rejected him, seemed to be erased.

“Morning! What have you got for me?”

The studio space was cleaned, but empty. The camera stood in the corner as Tom lead you further into the room, his office door open to the side of it, and you frowned at the emptiness of the space.

There were tape marks on the floor where sets were usually assembled, conspicuous without the usual hive of activity buzzing around some piece of furniture you would be thrown onto or fucked against. There was nothing.

“I didn’t know what you wanted to do,” Tom was saying, his gentle voice booming in the empty space, “we don’t have a script or anything so… I’ll leave it to you.”

You bit your lip.

It was more freedom than you were used to, less direction, less to build the fantasy where you could forget you were ultimately in a warehouse with just your business partner. It was… nothing. Tom said your name quietly, and you nodded, stepping back to assess the space.

“I’m just thinking,” you reassured him.

Had the studio always been this quiet? You tried to remember a shoot day where it had been this silent, this calm, without the stress of lighting people or cameramen or scripts being thrown around. You could hear every step Tom took as he walked towards the camera, the wheel-mounted tripod creaking as he moved it across the floor, checking batteries and SD cards while you stood in place, your bag still hanging from one shoulder.

Noticing your frozen stance Tom frowned across at you, nothing but gentle concern in his blue eyes and the fine lines around them.

“I was thinking something kind of minimal, maybe cosy?” he offered, “Maybe an armchair? Something like that?”

You thought about it for a moment, crossing to the corner of the room to finally set down your bag.

He was finally getting into ‘director mode’, growing more energetic by the second.

“I’m thinking we just frame it on you, no distraction. Single take, if we can.”

You nodded silently as he crossed to the storage cupboard he’s overeagerly labelled a ‘props department’. It was stacked high with fabric and furniture and lingerie, tubs of various exotic sex toys near the door. Tom stepped straight past them.

There was a mattress in the props room, materials to build a bed, and you pondered on the idea for a moment.

“We could keep it really simple, maybe?” you suggested, “Find a warm background. Or just use white. Try and get one twenty minute shot, or something.”

You reached for lube without thought, collecting the near-empty bottle of body oil beside it too, as you perused the options in front of you.

“Remind me to buy more of that,” Tom mused, sparing a glance to the bottles in your arms before standing beside you to peruse the options.

You nodded silently, your free hand rifling through bagged silicone toys, slightly in a daze as you picked out a few options. There was a slight blush dusted across Tom’s high cheekbones as he turned to see your arms full of dildos. You smiled as it took him a second to find words, and wondered how the hell he’d chosen to start a porn studio in the first place.

“Colour co-ordinated,” he commented, and you smiled, picking out yet another pink toy from the pile.

“Naturally,” you smiled, “I think that’s everything? Could we drag a mattress and pillows out?”

He nodded silently, already moving to manoeuvre the double mattress leaning against a wall in the props room. You rolled your eyes before helping, knowing he was being a gentleman, or whatever he called it. You called it putting his back out.

He rejected your help, so you grabbed as many pillows as you could, following him back into the main studio, privately smiling at the dramatic grunts he made trying to move the mattress. He tossed it to the ground with a grunt, shoving it into the corner of the room, before pausing again.

You dropped everything down on to it, toys, lube, pillows and all.

And then both of you waited.

It was so strangely intimate, just the two of you in the room, the strange nature of your relationship weighing heavy after last night’s miscommunication. Suddenly there was nothing you wanted to do less than take your clothes off.

“White sheets?”

“Hm?” you hadn’t processed what Tom said, too wrapped up in your own world, frowning down at the bare mattress.

“I was thinking white sheets.”

“Oh, uh, yeah.”

He was off, assigned another task, and you almost envied his distraction as you slowly sorted the pillows how you wanted, gathered the toys absentmindedly. Before Tom came back from the props closet you made yourself scarce, catching sight of his slim outline through the doorway. Facing away from you as he rummaged.

In the single bathroom of the studio you cleaned anything that would be going inside of you, avoiding your reflection, trying to shake off the odd nervousness coursing through your veins.

Why? It had been years since you felt this way before a shoot. Before you’d met Tom, even. Sure, shoots could be exciting, exhilarating, intimidating, but this self-consciousness, this self-doubt… it had come from nowhere.

You pressed your forehead to the mirror, closing your eyes, breathing deeply. The tap running sounded like a waterfall, the silicone under your fingers felt alien, the air almost claustrophobic as you wondered what the hell was wrong with you.

Tom was done making the bed when you got back, frowning at his phone until he heard you re-enter the studio space, quick to look up and see if you were happy with his set. You felt hyper-aware of him, of every movement he made, a clean towel and toys cradled in one arm as you took in the space. It was a simple premise, just a clean fitted sheet pillows in a corner, a clear space for you in the middle. You knew it would look good on screen. You knew this was an easy job.

You felt sick to your stomach.

“Do you want to face the camera? Or kind of, not acknowledge it?” Tom asked, speaking again as you forgot to reply, too caught up in your own mind. “Maybe if you ignore it that’s more… voyeuristic?”

“Sounds good,” you responded, kneeling to prepare your space. This was autopilot, your day job. You could do this.

“Right.”

He sounded a little put out by your response, but moved the camera anyway, switching to a knee-height tripod. You stood, stepped back to give him space, and frowning at the sudden headrush. You blinked, catching yourself staring at the flex of his arms as he moved the heavy equipment. You didn’t realise how long you had been staring into space until Tom called your name a second time, crossing into your personal space.

“Are you okay?”

Tom’s voice was so soft you wanted to cry, fingers hovering beside your bicep, his gentle eyes demanding for you to meet them, daring for you to lie while his face is so close to yours.

Somehow, the guilt of his worry made you feel worse.

“No, I’m…I’m being stupid. Sorry, just tired.”

“Did you not sleep well?”

“No, I, uh, I slept fine. I’m not sure. Just not really feeling it.”

His face fell, but you knew he wasn’t disappointed in you. He thought he’d done something wrong. Immediately you were talking, doing anything you could to soften his guilt.

“It’s my job, though. I can do it. This is great Tom, I think it’ll be a good shoot.”

“Sweetheart –”

You sighed, eyes falling to the mattress, before forcing a smile.

“Let’s get this over with!”

He looked like he wanted to argue with you, but you forced yourself to move, pulled your feet from the floor with far more effort than it ought to take. There was some comfort in rummaging through your own bag, that piece of home, something private from the studio. You found the vibrator you’d brought, a pink bullet you used almost exclusively at home, fully charged that morning. Behind you, Tom snorted in amusement.

“Nothing here is ever charged,” you shrugged off his stare, knowing damn well you didn’t have to explain yourself.

You wanted to explain anyway though. Just in case, Tom thought anything he did wasn’t enough. He seemed perfectly fine with the criticism, though you knew he was making a mental note. He always did, then you had something to say.

Trying not to make a big deal out of it, you stripped to your underwear, folding your clothes neatly and being careful not to show any self-consciousness in your posture. You’d never been ashamed or embarrassed before now, and you weren’t about to start. Even if it was just you, and a very well, fully dressed Tom. Vibrator clutched in your fingers, you finally sat on the damn mattress.

He was the other side of the camera now, somehow both distant and a few feet away. You found yourself staring at your body in the monitor, just watching. Tom’s voice broke you out of yet another daze, and you wanted to pinch yourself. Why couldn’t you do it today?

“We don’t have to do this today, if you don’t want to.”

“No, it’s okay I just… I forget it’s just us sometimes, you know? There’s such a production and so many people and at the end of the day…”

Tom smiled, a relief on his face that told you he had been feeling it too. That this was weird.

“I know what you mean. If you’re uncomfortable…”

“Just give me a second to warm up, we need to make something, after all.”

You stretched, not really sure why, moving a little around the nook Tom had created, shuffling pillows and practicing where you wanted to lie back, watching a monitor as Tom played with a soft lighting, twisting and turning to find the most flattering angles you could.

As he shuffled things around, Tom nodded to the spread of toys you’d set out. You’d added your vibrator to the pink line up, perfectly organised on the white towel.

“Do you want those in shot?”

You shrugged.

“Might be hot?”

He nodded silently. You moved the toys in to the frame, trying to blink away the cloud which had settled in your mind. The world felt foggy, your arms like they were moving through treacle, and you knew Tom had noticed.

As he prepared two directional microphones, you tried not to feel claustrophobic. The audio from the microphone he was pointing towards your pussy would be almost grotesque, and you fought not to shuffle further from it as you imagined Tom listening later, headphones in, as he balanced the levels between your moans and the wet sounds of you fucking yourself.

Fuck.

Why was this so different to a regular shoot?

You’d done solo shoots before. With Tom. And half-a-dozen other crew, you reminded yourself.

You caught sight of his curls above the monitor, face serious as he set everything up.

“Speak?”

“Testing, testing,” you spouted off nonsense until he offered you a thumbs up, happy with the audio.

Then there was nothing else to do.

He stood, looming over the equipment. And you looming over you.

“What’s the plan?” he asked, smiling at your frown. “You’re in charge here, I’m just the camera guy.”

You rolled your eyes, knowing he was trying to put you at ease.

“You’re the director,” you reminded him, knowing how he preened himself under the title.

You were impressed that his eyes had only roamed down your body once as he took in the shoot, glancing at the indulgent layout of toys, double checking the monitor, one headphone in. He had that stance he always adopted when he was directing, and you knew it was his favourite moment in any of this. The moment everything was pinned on him.

It happened so quickly you almost missed the moment he knelt down, blinking in surprise as his face remerged at your level beside the camera.

“Then my direction is: enjoy yourself. Forget I’m here. Let’s show them something real.”

He must have seen your shock, because it made him smile.

“Real?” you questioned, and he nodded firmly.

“I’m serious.”

For a beat, both of you were silent, his eyes meeting yours over the body of the camera.

“If you can,” he offered, “I understand it’s not always…”

You interrupted him with a hand, smiling your understanding of what he was saying, and dismissing it in one motion. The silence dragged on, and you decided to push this forwards. If you were done by lunch, Tom would probably insist on taking you somewhere nice.

“I don’t know if I should use – ” you ghosted a finger across the biggest toy, worrying a bottom lip between your teeth, “Simplicity might be key.”

“Do what you want, darling. What feels good.”

You nodded mutely, and for just a second you saw doubt flicker across his face. This was new territory, and even you weren’t sure if this was a step too far.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah! Yeah. If I’m… actually… it might take a while. Let me know if I’m taking too long.”

“Take as long as you need, darling. I’ve got nowhere to be.”

Tilting your head at him a little, you realised abruptly just how intimate this was. Moreover, that you wanted it anyway. That you were about to make him watch you cum. Make him hear you, smell you. He couldn’t touch, but he could watch.

And that was enough for you to perform.

Tom gave you a countdown, red lights peppered your field of view, and he was recording. He had taken a seat on the floor behind the camera set up, one headphone in to monitor audio, waiting.

You stayed sat up, back arched a little as your hands began to caress you own body, keeping on eye on the monitor while your face was out of the shot. You rubbed along your thighs, across your stomach, teasing at the lace of your bra and the elastic of your underwear each time you passed them, trailing your fingertips. It didn’t really feel like anything, doing this to yourself, but you knew to tease the camera. Tom would cut out anything too slow.

Your gaze remained firmly on the screen as you began to make your touches firmer, more deliberate, dragging lines into your skin and flirting with the camera. You admired the soft skin of your breasts as you started to shift your bra, enjoying the stiffening of your nipples in the monitor until –

The screen went black, and you immediately glanced at Tom, frowning as you lost the visual of yourself. He met your questioning gaze sternly, eyebrows furrowed, and you remembered his direction.

“Enjoy yourself.”

With nothing left to look at you closed your eyes, feeling the blood rushing to the surface of your skin, the sensitivity of your breasts as your fingers idly danced across them. You shoved your bra down unthinkingly, wanting to feel more, rubbing at the heaviness of your breasts and wincing as you enjoyed the pleasure and pain of pinching at your nipples, teasing them to attention. You glanced your nails across them, feeling it in your core. You didn’t want to wait anymore. Fuck the cameras.

It was hard to let to, to stop the delicious feeling of your fingers on your own breasts, but you forced yourself to free one hand, shoving off the bra, desperate to feel yourself without it. You knew you were grimacing, it wouldn’t be sexy, but you didn’t care. That was Tom’s problem.

You needed to touch yourself.

One hand reached below the waistband of your underwear, seeking out your clit, guided by a familiar ache. It was all you could focus on, your other hand forgotten, cupping your breast, the sensation vague and lost as your fingers found your clit. The sensation overwhelmed you as you shifted the hood, your body beginning to produce wetness. The room was a little cold, the air relieving against the heat of your bare skin, making your nipples peak as you leant back into the nest of pillows behind you.

You felt your stomach tense, a bolt of electricity tensing the muscles up and down your body as you brushed across your clit a little too hard. Your middle finger probed your pussy experimentally, slipping inside of you, quickly joined by a second as you played with the wetness there.

One, two, three pumps of your fingers inside you was enough for you to gasp, your eyes still closed against the bright lights as focused on nothing but feeling. No more fucking around.

You reached for your vibrator, hand knocking against the thick silicone toy lined up beside it, writhing as you pressed it against the fabric covering your clit. You cycled through the settings as fast as you could, still desperate for more stimulation.

More. It was on the highest setting. You wanted more.

Without moving the vibrator you shoved your underwear off, huffing as you kicked them away, not caring where they landed. The tip of the toy nudged against your clit exquisitely, and you froze.

There.

You thought about Tom watching you. The hot blood coursing through your body, the line up of toys just waiting to be shoved inside of you. The sensitivity of you clit as you held it against that perfect point. The air against your dripping, aching pussy. The muscles starting to clench, the rhythm of your body. Building, building, you didn’t fight the feeling.

This was what you wanted.

That warm familiarity of the vibrator on your clit, the runaway train of your thoughts, it was enough to drive you over the edge. You hadn’t realised the keening, groaning noises you were making until you heard them, pleasure leaving your lips as an afterthought.

You felt empty.

Blindly you reached out, sticky fingers finding the shaft of a toy you wanted, a smaller one you could take right now. A dollop of lube in the palm of your hand was all it would take, a few pumps of the toy enough to coat it, the excess lubricant smeared on the sheets. You didn’t care. Not your problem.

Without conscious thought, you were still rubbing yourself, two fingers absently making circles against your clit as you fidgeted to be able to take the dildo. You didn’t bother preparing yourself anymore. You were wet enough, and you wanted the stretch.

Needed it.

Needed to feel full.

You shoved the toy into yourself, gritted teeth and your spare hand grasping at your breast, giving the nipple a sharp pinch to interrupt the overwhelming feeling of that silicone pushing inside of you. Your walls were stretched open, a gasp reaching your ears as you felt a nudge against your cervix.

It wasn’t enough. You felt wild, desperate, as you sloppily pulled the toy from yourself and shoved it back in, clenching down and still needing more.

Your fingers found a larger toy, arousal and lubricant smearing across your body as you discarded the dildo which you had just been fucking yourself with, leaving it somewhere on the mattress, forgotten in favour of the bigger option. It was thick. Maybe, in your right mind, you wouldn’t have considered it. But instead you coated it in lube, squirting the clear liquid on to the tip and rubbing it down the toy, focusing on nothing but the need pulsing through your pelvis.

On the emptiness inside you, begging, pleading to be filled. It hurt, how much you wanted to be stretched out, to feel something pounding into you. You felt animalistic, desperate for anything. The last of your conscious thought was occupied by the need in your clit, the demand for friction, and you just didn’t have enough hands. It was impossible to think. When you finally sank down on the fake cock, leaning back, legs apart, gaze focused on nothing but your own swollen pussy, it was a relief. You gasped, then sighed, pushing another inch of the toy inside you. You felt stretched already, split in half, but you kept going. With each thrust, you took the silicone further inside of you until you felt the dull ache of the toy going too far.

Finally, that emptiness felt sated, and you stayed still, too stuffed to risk moving and too blissed out to care.

But you needed more.

Each bear down made the toy threaten to shift, and you didn’t have the brain power to thrust and pay attention to your aching clit. You moved gingerly, grabbing a pillow to straddle, holding the toy inside you as you hunted for your vibrator.

You couldn’t even lean too far to reach it, you were so full it ached. And it was delicious.

With the smooth plastic finally in your hand you leant back, ready to bring yourself to another orgasm. With a blink, you realised there was a tear tracking its way down your cheek, and you smiled to yourself.

And then you accidentally looked forwards. Your eyes met Tom’s. The camera. The lights. The switched off monitor.

You wanted to cry.

He was watching you directly, with those sharp blue eyes, one finger resting along his jawline, his usual calculating, wide stance replaced with one knee hugged to his chest as he sat on the concrete floor. He was watching you.

You. Stuffed full, straddling a pillow on the bed Tom had fucking made, covered in a mix of lube and your own arousal. That strange feeling from earlier came back full force.

God. He had seen you actually come. Without acting or cheesy lines or clever angles to hide the worst of your O-face. You could pretend to come, tell your male co-stars what a good time you’d had, follow direction, anything. But this was too real. And it was just you and Tom. In the corner of a huge studio, bright lights and cameras and –

Had he called cut? You wouldn’t have heard. Did he realise you’d lost control? That you had forgotten you were supposed to be acting and been so desperate and –

“You’re doing amazing.”

You smiled at him weakly, gasping as the toy inside you nudged your cervix as you fidgeted. You didn’t realise that you were awaiting direction until he spoke.

“Another one?”

His voice was a little throatier than usual, though you supposed he’d been quiet for a while. His eyes kept drifting from your face, and you wondered if he felt as uncomfortable as you did.

You nodded silently, closing your eyes, listening to the increasing pitch of the vibrator as you turned it up to its maximum setting.

The minutes stretched on as your orgasm built, little raises and falls of your hips accompanying that insistent buzz of your favourite vibrator, the toy inside you starting to ache as it stretched you apart. It was impossible to forget that Tom was watching you now. That his piercing gaze was on you. As a matter of professionalism, you tried to avoid looking up. You ignored the camera, fucked your body in the way you knew it would respond to, only half-faking it as you came a second time.

You moaned and groaned and gave the camera an indulgent few seconds of overstimulation, the vibrator pushed against your clit to make you writhe and shake. You pulled yourself off the dildo in a mess of arousal, played with yourself, showing off how stretched out you were.

Fingers swirling in the arousal inside of you, you sighed in relief when Tom called, “cut.”

Dropping the toy, you pulled your legs together, ignoring him for a second as you took deep breaths. Taking stock of your body, the residual pleasure and pain and stickiness. A lot of stickiness.

Tom took pity on you, shifting a softbox so you had a clear path out of the corner you were hemmed into.

“Go and have a shower,” he told you, the most softly-spoken command you’d ever heard.

Nonetheless, you followed orders. On weak legs, you indulged in as long as shower as you dared, cleaning up and then just… waiting. Trying to avoid the real world. When you finally opened the door, wrapped in a robe, you found your clothes folded outside. Tom was nowhere to be seen, but you thanked the universe for him anyway.

When you re-emerged you were fully dressed and feeling a lot more like yourself again. And, actually, quite proud of yourself. Tom’s busyness told you everything had been recorded properly, equipment moved and the mattress bare, leant against the wall.

“All good?” you asked, more to announce your presence than anything. He stopped moving, offering you a gentle smile.

“Perfect! I think it’ll be great. Do you want to go get lunch somewhere? To celebrate?”

Predictable as anything. The thought made your heart swell with fondness for him, his head tilt and excitement, his strange place here.

“I think I’ll just go home,” you tried to smile apologetically, but you could still feel the ache inside you, the dull oversensitivity of your clit against your underwear.

The embarrassment and excitement fighting in the fit of your stomach.

Tom nodded, clear understanding on his face. He held the door for you on the way out.

“Are you coming in tomorrow?” he asked, quietly, like you might run off if he asked.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’ll see you then.”

Your bedroom fell silent as the vibrator stopped, the battery finally flat. You whined in disappointment, desperate for another orgasm. Your fingers replaced it instantly, rubbing, desperately pulling more wetness from the arousal weeping from you, but you were too oversensitive.

Panting, vision blurry, your thighs aching, you blinked away tears. You glanced at the nightstand. Tom hadn’t text you.

When you woke up the next morning your phone was dead. You’d forgotten to charge it last night, and leaving it in your room to charge offered a strangely peaceful morning. You had a few hours before you would be expected at the studio, and no work to do before then.

You indulged in spending time getting ready for the day, making a decent breakfast, doing a few chores you’d been putting off.

Processing what had happened yesterday.

In the clear light of day, you wondered if you ought to be embarrassed for the way you’d completely lost yourself at the shoot. The more you thought about it, the more you thought about it, the more you rationalised at you’d just followed Tom’s direction. Done what he’d asked. It had been intense, for sure, but you’d done what he’d asked. If anything you regretted the moment he’d had to speak, losing your nerve. You hoped he didn’t want pick-up shots today, you weren’t sure your body could take any more.

You thought about the night before, clearing up the scattered clothes and charging the vibrator you’d left strewn beside your bed, more ashamed of the images which had been conjured by your overactive imagination in the late-night privacy of your bedroom. You hated that everything you imagined was involved blue eyes. Distinctive curls. Pulling buttons from smart shirts and kissing along sharp cheekbones. Poor Tom. He didn’t need you overstepping that mark. And yet when you had closed your eyes, imagined you were under those lights again, all you could imagine was Tom. His creative gaze. Listening to the smoothness his voice leant to everything he said as he instructed you even more intimately than usual.

As you switched your phone back on, you forced the thoughts from your mind. They couldn’t follow you to the studio. The two of you had built something good. Something successful. The studio was doing well, you were both saving money away for the future, building your brands. You couldn’t screw that up now by imagining him like that. He trusted you. You trusted each other. Relied on one another.

You wondered if he ever fucked other actresses.

#lord forigve me for i have have rpf x reader #13atoms #fic #tom hiddleston x reader #tom hiddleston fic #tom hiddleston imagine #this is a weird one #i think 2 more chapters maybe #lmk what you think!

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captain-jensen · 4 years ago

Text

Big Fan pt.2

Tom Holland x Reader

Summary: A couple of weeks after your initial interview turned date turned kiss, your interviews with the cast come out and people can’t get enough of yours and Toms’ chemistry. Also, for this fic Y/Y/N is Your Youtube Name.

Warnings: Slight angst, fluff.

(I just thought this GIF was adorable)

Your life has felt like a whirlwind for the past couple of weeks. Even though Tom was away doing the rest of his press-tour, you guys kept with each-other all day. He was always sending you funny texts about his recent junket, or sending you cute selfies whenever he could and you always returned the sentiment. Since that first night you had found it very hard to concentrate. Even though you were in the middle of filming a new review for another movie you couldn’t help but let your mind wander to the first kiss you two shared... and the following make-out sessions that happened over the course of that weekend. When Tom had to leave town you were devastated, but you knew it was necessary, just like it was necessary for you to finish your own work. While reviewing some footage for your newest video you got a text from your manager that was handling the publication of the interviews you did with the Spider-Man cast saying that the video was going live tomorrow. You were really excited for these junkets to come out. All of them went so well and you were really proud of yourself. Elated about the news you decide to share it with Tom. I can’t wait to watch xx, he responded.

When you wake up the next morning you shoot out of bed remembering what was happening today. You immediately check Youtube to see that your junket was trending. After watching the video you were even more happy with yourself, feeling like you might be able to properly pursue this press career. Completely forgetting to even check the comments, you move on with your day. As your coffee is brewing you check your phone to see a bunch of texts from a mix of your manager, your best-friend, and Tom. Responding to Tom’s sweet ‘good morning’ texts first you move down the line. Getting to your manager next it’s a flurry of exclamation points and praises. Finally, getting to your best-friend the first text you see is Why didn’t you tell me???!!!!!. Responding with confusion, you ask them what they’re talking about. All they do is tell you to read the comments on the junket.

Omg, Tom was flirting with the interviewer so bad!!!!!

New ship: Tom Holland and Y/Y/N

Y/Y/N’s new video is definitely gonna be the boyfriend tag!!!!!

I cannot handle the chemistry between Tom and Y/Y/N

That was singlehandedly the cutest interview I’ve ever seen.

You stand in shock in the middle of your kitchen. Even though no-one was around you could feel your face heating up. Not only did people think you and Tom were flirting back and forth, but they actually shipped you guys! You had to talk to Tom about your possible next move. You text him asking if he’s available to talk. You didn’t know it but that text caused fear to spike in Tom’s heart. He immediately responded saying he has the next half an hour free. Awaiting your call Tom tries to stop his speeding heart and convince himself that you’re not trying to end things already. He’s taken out of his mind when his phone starts ringing and your picture comes up on the screen. He rapidly answers it “Hey darling, how are things?” he tries to sound calm.

“I’m good, did you see our interview together today?”

“No not yet, I’ll pull it up right now” Opening Youtube he sees the video is trending. “No way! It’s on the front page! Congratulations sweetheart, that’s awesome!”

“Well I can’t exactly take all the credit for that Tom. I mean, your face is the thumbnail. But besides that, you have to see the comments”

Scrolling through the comments Tom feels a blush creeping up his own face. “Wow, that is quite the response” is all he can say. He’s worried that you’ll be annoyed with the fact that instead of people focusing on your interview skills they’re solely concentrating on the fact that he was smitten with you.

“Yeah. What do you make of it?” you decide to ask, not being able to gauge his facial reaction.

“I mean. I was caught red-handed I guess. What about you?” he asks equally as nervous as you are.

“I’m not sure yet. I think it’s sweet but at the same time something about it feels weird” You respond. In truth you were ecstatic that people thought you’d make such a cute couple. At the same time however, you didn’t want it to possibly scare Tom off. He deals with this stuff all the time, and it probably got annoying after a while.

“Look, I’m not bothered by it if you aren’t” Tom says, breaking your thoughtful silence.

“I’m not really bothered by it either.” You reassure him.

“Ok, good. Maybe we shouldn’t respond though, until we’re both equally comfortable”

“I agree” Even though you were happy with the interaction you were having with Tom, you couldn’t deny that neither of you had any idea what was going on between you two. “Well I’ve gotta go. I just wanted to call and talk about that with you. Also, I miss you.” You blurt out the last part.

“I miss you too Y/N. Thanks for calling, I’ll talk to you later” With that you both say bye and hang up the phone. With your head reeling, you see another text from your friend asking you to explain what was happening. You tell them to meet you for lunch that day and you’ll explain everything.

At lunch that day you had to explain why you didn’t tell them about everything when it first happened. Explaining that you didn’t even know what it was yet and that you both wanted to keep it as low-key as possible. “Oh yeah, and you guys flirting almost shamelessly in your professional and serious interview is low-key” is all they say to you. You told them honestly though that at the time it didn’t feel like you were flirting. It just felt like a really good conversation. They just rolled their eyes at you, being able to clearly see what was going to happen.

A couple days later you upload your newest video. After checking the stats on the video you find yourself in the comments once again.

When is Tom gonna be on your channel?!

Do the boyfriend tag with Tom!!!!!

You notice that almost every comment runs along the same lines. All talking about Tom, asking about you guys, saying how much they ship you. Even though the intention was sweet you grew increasingly frustrated when you realised that no-one was talking about the actual video or what you had to say. As though he could read your mind you see that Tom is calling you. As soon as you pick up the call he’s singing you praises in your ear for your newest video. “That was such a good breakdown Y/N. It honestly made me see the movie in a whole new way”

“Thank you. I’m glad someone noticed” It slips out before you even have time to think.

“Are you ok? That didn’t sound too good”

“Yeah I’m sorry, I’m fine. I just read through all the comments and it seems like all anyone cares about is the fact that they want me to date Tom Holland”

“Yeah but just think about all the people who watched and loved it and just didn’t comment. I promise it’s not all everyone cares about” he says reassuringly.

“You’re probably right. There is a large gap between views and comments”

“See! Exactly!” A small silence breaks the conversation before Tom perks up. “Guess what” he says through a smirk you can practically hear.

“I don’t know, what?”

“I’m gonna be back in town next week!” He says excitedly.

“That’s good to hear. I get to see you again right?” You ask only half joking. The other half was scared to hear him say he wouldn’t be able to see you.

“I’ve actually got the whole week off, so we’re gonna spend as much time as we can together” he proposes.

“Well I look forward to it” You both say goodnight and hang up.

For the past week you’ve been increasingly more nervous to see Tom again. Even though you guys talk constantly, the thought of seeing him in person again had you feeling like the first time you met. While you were on your way to the coffee shop where you were meeting up with Tom, you went over how you wanted to bring up the conversation about what you guys were. You didn’t want to scare him by asking so quickly, but you had to know. You had to figure out if you should confirm or deny the rumours so that people would actually pay attention to your content again instead of your dating life.

“Hey gorgeous” You’re greeted by a smiling Thomas who pulls you into a gentle but affectionate hug. Clearly you were both feeling a bit awkward seeing each-other in person for the first time in a while. The first time, you guys had all the momentum of your first meeting, but now things have slowed down a bit between you and you’re trying to find your footing again. Even just 5 minutes into the date though it was like you were never apart. Conversation flowed openly and happily. Tom couldn’t get enough of the way your face scrunched up when you laughed at something he said. You couldn’t get enough of his laugh in general, it was contagious. After a bit, you decide that it’s time to bite the bullet and bring up the elephant in the room, which just so happened to seem like the biggest, scariest elephant in existence. “Can we talk about something?” you finally ask.

“What’s on your mind?”

“Something that I think is on both of our minds”

“Y/N, before you go any further, I just want to say that these past few weeks have been amazing. Even though we haven’t been able to spend time the way we’ve wanted, it’s made me realise that even just knowing that I get to talk to you on a daily basis makes me happy” Your heart skips a beat as he pours his out to you.

“Tom I’ve really enjoyed our time together as well. That’s what makes me curious as to what exactly it means for both of us. Especially in regards to all of the rumours online. I want to know what you want me to say to them. I just want to put it all to rest so that people focus on my content again” you admit without stopping for breath.

“What do you want to say to them?” he asks suspiciously.

“I mean, I don’t know” You start to feel sheepish. Not wanting to say it out loud in fear of rejection.

“Tell them it’s true” Tom spills out.

“What?” You ask, shooting your eyes up to meet his from the cup of coffee that was up to this point, very interesting.

“Unless you don’t want it to be true!” Tom tries to backtrack to make you feel comfortable.

“No, I’d like to tell them it’s true. Only if you’re sure though” You say hopefully.

“I am very sure Y/N. I’ve even been thinking that the boyfriend tag sounds like fun” He says with sly smile spreading across his joyful face.

“I don’t know Tom, I don’t really do those sorts of videos” You respond menacingly.

“Yeah but maybe you can make an exception” He says lowly, leaning in for sweet and tender kiss. In that moment you forget completely about what you were just talking about. It almost worried you how intoxicating his lips were.

You guys spend the rest of the week planning and executing the boyfriend tag video. Then all the comments turn from I ship it so hard to THEY’RE SO CUTE TOGETHER and IT’S REAL. And real it was.

#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland one shot #peter parker #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker oneshot

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mcyt-transcribed · 3 years ago

Text

youtube

transcript of “where I've been”

TW for discussion of cancer and Covid-19

Here’s the Google Doc link or you can click on the read more.

Techno: Yo, Technoblade here with another upload, oh my God I can’t believe it. We’re back, we’re playing Bedwars, uh, I don’t know why I said that in the present tense because I actually recorded these Bedwars games a few days ago. I have- I’ve played like, almost no Bedwars since the win streak, which was like, I dunno, years ago - so, you know, forgive me if I’m a little rusty. These are literally just the first three games of Bedwars I played, recorded them, and then just threw them in this background footage because, you know, I like live commentaries a lot, but I feel like sometimes, when you have a topic to talk about, having to play a video game simultaneously can sorta- it can sorta detract from the commentary, you know?

But before that: a plushie commercial filmed on my iPhone.

We got the first one - it’s Technoblade. He’s in a flying pose. He’s flying to save some civilians or he’s falling flat on his face. Depends on who you ask. Alright. We got the- We got Technoblade. He’s sitting down. He’s- He’s seated. He’s seated. It’s incredibly exciting. Uh, we got- we got Technoblade but he’s- he’s a giant- he’s a gigantic pillow. It’s Technopillow. This is actually- This is actually really- This is really soft. You’re gonna have to take my word for it.

These plushies go on sale on September 3rd at 3 PM EST at youtooz.com. The last ones sold out in around eight hours, so be prepared. I mean, one of them was like, two minutes but ehhh, it’s not happening again.

So where has Technoblade been? I know I’ve been gone since like, June. I was actually being really productive in July, which I know you guys are gonna- You’re not gonna believe me when I say that because I made no content. But I was! I was, you gotta believe me, okay? I was getting so much work done IRL; I was like, filling out paperwork, making business moves, working on merchandise, buying new equipment to make new videos. ‘Cause I really wanted- I really wanted to increase the rate at which I was making videos, ‘cause I kinda spent- You know, I kinda spent like, all this time becoming a famous YouTube and then instantly like, stopped uploading. Which, I mean, to be fair, I guess that started more in like 2018. So, that’s more just a pattern now.

But I figured, you know, this whole thing where I go two- you know, one or two months without uploading- I don’t want that to be me, man. I wanna be uploading at least once per week. So I spent a lot of time preparing to do that. And the plan was that I would start doing that in August, but I took a- It didn’t- It’s, uh- It’s not going great, I’m not going to lie to you.

So in the last two days of July I noticed that my right arm was starting to hurt a decent amount and I thought- My best guess was that it was some kind of repetitive stress injury, ‘cause you know I’ve been playing video games since the age of like, five. It’s pretty much nonstop. I was gonna get carpal tunnel at some point but, uh, I took a few days to rest my arm and it really didn’t… really didn’t feel any better after that. And so after a few days of that, I looked at myself in the mirror and I noticed that my right shoulder was starting to swell like crazy and I was like, “Oh my God! I must’ve broken a bone, this is-” I mean, this- It looked- it looked crazy.

So, you know, the next day - August 2nd - I, uh, headed over to the doctor to see what was wrong and uh, they ran a couple of scans and then they came back and they told me that, uh, the reason my arm hurts is because I have cancer.

That really couldn’t have gone worse, I don’t think. I feel a bit silly talking about this with, uh, Minecraft in the background; it feels a bit out of place. But I’m a Minecraft YouTuber - I don’t- I don’t do a face cam. Which is I guess how most people would talk about serious things, with a face cam. I also probably, uh- *chuckles* Also probably a bit weird to plug my merchandise in the- in the same video, like, “Hey, guys, I have a- I have a terrible disease, also buy my plushies, bro.” But uh- *laughs* Listen: I’ve been waiting so many months to sell those plushies, bro. And it keeps getting delayed and now cancer thinks it can stop me. No no no no no. I’m trying to make some bank, bro. I wanna get paid, also they look fantastic, I mean just look at them, they look incredible. Alright?

I mean, I guess it would be ideal to like, split up the announcements, but I’m going back into chemotherapy next week; I don’t got time for this, man. We gotta go!

To be fair, I could make this a lot weirder; I could have like, the thumbnail be a giant red arrow pointing to my tumor with the caption “Might die! Not clickbait!” *laughs* Yeah, just the ultimate- the ultimate YouTuber, bro. We’re clickbaiting the whole process.

So after the scans come in, I get transferred to another hospital which has an oncology award, so it’s a lot more specialized towards what I need. And I’m sorta like sitting there in the bed for a couple of days like, “Hello. Could I please get some healthcare? Could I- Could I just get a- Could I just get a crumb of healthcare? Please! Like, I *stutters* I wanna see people sprinting, you know? I feel like I want to see some urgency, you know? If you guys gotta- *stammers* You know, there’s like, this tumor on my arm - if you guys could just- if you guys could just get rid of it. Just get rid of it right now! Could we just go? If you gotta cut off my arm, cut off my arm, bro - do what you gotta do. I won’t complain, man, I’ve won enough Minecraft tournaments. I’ll just play Minecraft with my feet from here on out, bro. I’ll still be B tier at least, okay? It’s fine. Do what you gotta do.”

But then the doctors are telling me, “Oh, well, we can’t- we can’t do it immediately. We gotta- We gotta find out what it is, we gotta run some tests, do a biopsy.” I’m like, “Okay, do the biopsy.” Like, “Oh, well first we gotta do some scans.” I’m like, “Alright, dude, the scans.” And so it took a couple of days and then they did a biopsy, uh, three days later. And then I was like, “Alright. Let’s go!” And they were like, “Oh, well, the biopsy is gonna take like, a week or more to get back.” And I’m just sitting here like, “Bruh, please. Please, just treat me.”

I mean, it makes sense. It makes a lot of sense and I’m sure they know what they’re doing, but I’m just sitting there in the hospital like, “Please. Please, healthcare.” So they get the biopsy and they send me home and they’re saying like, I’ll come back in like a week or so when they have a treatment plan prepared, and so I- It was a very fun week at home ‘cause I was sitting there still not getting treated and I was just like, looking at my tumor like, “Alright, Mr. Tumor. You know, you need me to survive so it’s in your best interest to just- to just chill out for a little bit, you know? We don’t wanna go too crazy.”

And faintly- Faintly if you strain your ears, underneath my skin you can hear:

[Dream’s speedrun music plays for a few seconds]

Techno: Yeah, it was a really fun week. But I did finally get started on chemotherapy, which is a wonderful process. Let me explain chemotherapy. So basically uh, you know how society has progressed for thousands of years of technological and medical innovation? So basically, one of the top three ways we have to fight cancer is uh, for you to go to the hospital and then they uh, plug you into a machine and then they inject poison directly into your veins for several days. That’s uh, that’s one of the best ways we’ve got of going about this and the poison- it’s supposed to kill the cancer - it uh, also kills things like, you know, blood. But ehhh, does anybody really need blood? I feel like it’s pretty optional, you know? Uh- *small laugh* Blood for the Blood God as it were, alright? Uh, I’ll take what I can get.

I, uh, you know, I used to have a channel meme- ‘cause back in the day- you know how my motivation always goes up and down in, like, cycles? I used to have a meme where whenever I’d get super motivated I’d, ya know, I’d start uploading, like crazy. I’d also do things like get a haircut. And, so, I joked that, uh, the less hair I had, the more I’d upload. ‘Cause that’s- the hair was holding me back. And so, if that’s still true, I gotta say, chemotherapy, that’s gotta be daily uploads or something, bro. *laughs* It’s gonna be- Chemotherapy Arc is gonna be fantastic for content.

Well, ya know, after I got diagnosed, I, uh, I’ve been making a lot of phone calls- ya know, informing all of my distant family members about the situation- and, I gotta say, of all the phone calls I’ve made, nobody took the news worse than my health insurance provider. They’ve been inconsolable for weeks. They were like, “You got what!? No!”

I mean, I had no idea they cared so much. They’ve just- oh my God. I- I think they’re the real victims of this. I mean, could you imagine? Could you imagine? Like, look at me! I was a healthy twenty-two year old, I, like, barely went to the doctor, even for, like, regular appointments. I- I guess I went to the dentist, that’s the one thing I did. I was the freest paycheck they’ve ever seen in their lives. They could’ve been milking money off of me for decades. And then, bam, cancer, bro. *laughs* Oh, those poor guys.

Uh, the one- the one favor I- I do wanna ask- If you guys could all do one small favor for Technoblade- uh, you know that coronavirus thing you been hearing in the news for the last couple of years? Uh, I want you guys to get rid of it. Just, uh, I want it gone. Just a couple days should be sufficient for you guys to do that.

No, but, seriously. I’m kind of, uh, immunocompromised right now, which means, uh, if a bacteria touches me or, like, a virus touches me, I will explode. So, yeah, uh, I wanna- get the vaccine, is what I’m saying.

I’m gonna get cancelled by the anti-vaxxers for saying it, but it’s such a good vaccine, bro. Pfizer got full FDA approval, this week, for people aged sixteen and up. I think you- you can also get it if you’re eleven to fifteen if you’ve got emergency approval or whatever. Uh, I mean, if you have any concerns, don’t listen to a Minecraft YouTuber, but, please, at least talk to a doctor. Because it’s- it’s so good bro. It’s so good.

The hospitals are currently getting flooded by unvaccinated people. I’m gonna go ahead and speak on behalf of all cancer patients when I say that it is incredibly annoying when the- when the hospitals are getting overworked by people dying of preventable diseases. I’m just saying- we got dibs on those hospital beds. So, ya know, you- you probably don’t- you don’t even want them really. You don’t even want to need them. So, I think the vaccine… what is it? It, like, reduces the chances of you needing hospitalization from Covid by, like, ninety-six percent? I mean, it’s so effective, bro! Come on! I mean, you might still get, like… I mean, you could still catch coronavirus, but, like, the symptoms are gonna be so much milder, bro, I’m just saying. Think about it. Think about it. Talk to a doctor.

I remember when I first went in for chemotherapy, A: I was thrilled, ‘cause, like, yo! Healthcare! Inject it into my veins, bro! Let’s go! But, also, like, the first couple of days were actually pretty chill. I was like, ‘Dang! This is easy, bro!’. And then it kicked in. And then it kicked in. My energy levels were zero; they were absolutely nothing. It’s hard to describe how tired I was, but I think my one example is- so they let me go back home. And after several days of resting, I had a virtual appointment with a doctor. And, so, they were, like, ‘Alright’. And I was just sitting there, like, ‘Wait a second. You guys want me to sit upright in a chair for an hour? What is this, the Olympics, bro? I’m going back to bed! What? What?’ *laughs* ‘Wha? Let’s calm down here. Sitting in a chair? Am I Superman? Like, come one, bro.’

As you can probably tell, I’m feeling a lot better right now. Which is, uh, I think that’s part of the process, is, uh, you get a little bit of recovery time to, uh, ya know, eat a lot of really good food- get the weight back- and get ready for the next round.

And, uh, before we go back for the next round, I’m gonna be playing a lot of video games, uh, making some content, seeing if I can get some more videos prepared, because, uh- I know people are gonna be like, ‘No! Technoblade! You don’t need to make videos for us! Please rest!’

Nah, this isn’t about you, bro. This is about me. I enjoy this, man. This is, like, one of the safest and most fun things I could be doing right now, bro, I’m gonna do it. I don’t know how much content I could make, ‘cause I’m kinda slow, but we’ll see. We’ll see.

I already have a video prepared for next week, uh, September third. You guys are gonna love it. It’s, uh, it was actually- it’s kind of, kind of an old video. It was, uh, from a few months ago, but it’s very good. So, yeah! You guys have that to look forward to.

And, for the record, I know I’ve been complaining a lot in this video, but I just wanna clarify that the doctors I have are, like, insanely good, bro. I’m gonna be getting some of the finest healthcare in the world, so don’t worry about me too much.

I think the treatment has already started to show some results. I- I mean, it’s been so short of a time, so the results aren’t gonna be insane or anything, but, at the very least, the speedrun music has stopped playing.

So, yeah, that’s where I’ve been and that’s what I’m gonna be doing for the foreseeable future. Wish me luck, and, uh, wear a mask, I guess. Ya know, standard coronavirus procedures. All that coronavirus stuff and like, getting vaccinated - that goes double for Californians, okay? But it helps everywhere.

Uh, that’s all I’ve got for today. See you guys next time!

#transcribed #technoblade #video #bedwars #mod parker #mod garlic #cancer tw #medical tw #needles tw #(he talks about getting vaccinated)

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hydrus · 3 years ago

Text

Version 450

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🎉🎉 MERRY 450! 🎉🎉

I had an ok week. Last week's experimental release went well, so I have polished that, and I otherwise caught up with a variety of small work.

If you sync with the PTR, update will take a couple of minutes.

all misc this week

So, the update storage change went ok! There were a couple of little sync bugs to clear up, but overall it works--tag repositories now track their processing progress by mappings, siblings and parents separately. You don't have to do anything, and this doesn't matter much for day to day work, but it allows for individualised reset and reprocessing. All 448 users will have their siblings and parents reset and reprocessed, which will take a couple of minutes to do on update, and about fifteen minutes on your next processing job to fill back in, and which should eliminate some bad siblings and parents due to years-old processing bugs that long term users have been dealing with (leaving only current bugs, which I am also working on). The reset will not delete any pending siblings or parents you have, so no worries if you have a bunch waiting to be uploaded.

Advanced Users: The PTR sibling and parent reset will however remove any siblings and parents you uploaded that were then denied by jannies (which your client would have added to itself anyway). Everyone is reset to a 'clean' sync with this change, so if you know you have a ton of surplus denied siblings you rely on, perhaps from years ago that we agreed I would deny on the PTR to help you hack in an overwrite in the old system, you might like to hold off updating and first figure out a PTR sibling/parent backup to a local service using tag migration.

I fixed some things with Mr Bones. His numbers are accurate to your 'my files' again, and he now talks about your total deleted files and also your earliest file import time. I divided the ugly growing stack of numbers into tabs, which I am sort of happy with, sort of not. People like to take screens of Mr Bones, but they have different preferences on what to show, so I may replace this with expand/collapse buttons or similar, so you can show everything if you want.

If you use the export files window to get a lot of files out, it now makes a progress popup. You can close the window while it is exporting and still see and cancel the job.

The Client API file search now supports file and tag domain selection (like the 'my files' and 'all known tags' buttons on a normal search page), and also file sort for searches. I know the Client API guys have been waiting on this, so with luck we should see some neat new search options in the Client API programs in the near future.

full list

misc:

when exporting files from the file export window, a cancellable popup job with progress updates is also created. if you close the window, you can still cancel the job from the popup

fixed a crash bug in file export window

system:num file relationships (duplicates) now correctly only returns files in the current file search domain (previously, it returned all files, including those previously deleted etc...)

I rearranged some of the thumbnail menu file relationships actions menu. I'm not really happy with this, but a shuffle is easier than a full rework

fixed the '4k' resolution label replacer, which was looking at 2060 height not 2160 by mistake

the phash generation routine (part of the duplicates system, happens on image imports) now uses less memory and CPU for images with an alpha channel (pngs and still gifs), and if those images are taller or wider than 1:30 or 30:1, the phashes are also better quality

the 'fill in subscription gap' popup button now correctly boots its created downloader when the action also opens a new downloader page. previously, due to overactive safety code, it would hang on 'pending' until a client restart. related similar 'start downloader after creating page' actions off drag and drop or client api should also be more reliable

repositories (also the various improvements in 449-experimental are folded in):

fixed an issue with some 'force repository account refresh' code not kicking in immediately

when a client sees repository update period change, it now recalculates the metadata next check time

fixed a bug with the new repo sync where updates just added from additive sync were not being processed until client restart. related long-term buggy 'do we have this hash in updates?' and 'how many updates are there?' tests for update metadata are also fixed

the experimental by-content-type repository reset from last week now leaves pending content in place

the reset also now clears cached service info counts for files, tags, and mappings

client api:

the /get_files/search_files command now takes six new parameters for file/tag domain selection and file sort type and order

I wrote out some simple help and added some hacky unit tests for these new parameters. it needs another pass for potential bug fixes and readability/specificity (e.g. what does 'asc' for 'sort by ratio' mean?), but let me know how you get on anyway

fixed the new system predicate parsing for system:hash with only one hash

improved the url system predicate examples in client api documentation

client api version is now 19

mr bones:

mr bones now reports the correct numbers for your 'my files' again (and will continue to do so as multiple local file services are added)

mr bones now reports total files deleted and their total size

mr bones now reports your earliest recorded file import time

mr bones now has separate tabs for different stats types. this neatly ditches the giant stack of numbers this was becoming, but I may revisit it. some people who take mr bones screens will prefer all the info in one easy shot, while I others I know would rather the 'viewing habits' stuff were not immediately there. maybe expanding boxes?

fixed some mr bones layout

boring code cleanup:

made a new base class for the different database modules to hold cursor and collect common administrative functions

all database queries (about 1,200 of them) now go through a single location in the new class

a new profile mode, 'query planner' mode, now prints query text and EXPLAIN QUERY PLAN lines to a new profile log. this is a new experimental thing, extremely spammy, but will help with diagnosing very unusually slow queries on individual clients (it'll most likely show up odd sqlite versions, weird data distributions, or un-analysed tables)

updated a core function in 'all known files' mappings change autocomplete count adjustment. this seemed to have extremely bad worst case time, and I think it might have been giving some bad counts in unusual situations

next week

Next week is cleanup. The long term database breakup job has been going well, making code simpler and easier to expand, so I think more of that. I also started a new database profiling system this week, and I want to experiment with it a bit.

#release

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snow-lavender · 5 years ago

Text

The Last Day of Sanity

AKA, “Ahh, there’s the bitch”

Word Count: 10959

Yeah so this one maybe got away from me in terms of length. But I’m also really proud of it, and proud of getting it done. Thank you for reading if you do!

Warnings: suicidal impulses, discussion of suicide, apparent (but not actual) suicide, mild blood and gore, hospitals, talks of institutionalization, ableism and derogatory language toward those with psychosis and similar conditions, violence (though not very described, mostly implied), and apparent character death. (It's Say Goodbye, so, y'know. Fun times.)

AO3 Link Here

Seán was staring at his ceiling. That wasn’t exactly rare these days.

His head was pounding, just like it had been for the last week. His hands were shaking. He couldn’t get warm. He couldn’t focus. Sometimes, when it was especially bad, he could barely string together a sentence.

Simply put, he was a wreck.

Something flickered at the edge of his vision. When he looked, there was Robin, covered in blood and stab wounds. He didn’t move, just stood by the closet, staring at him.

His breath hitched for a moment, but he forced it back under control. Pushing up to sit, he tried to calm down. “One, two, three, four.” he muttered as he inhaled. He repeated this as he held, exhaled, held.

One, two, three, four.

When he opened his eyes, Robin was still there, a few feet closer. He closed his eyes and tried again.

One, two, three, four.

It’s not real.

One, two, three, four.

It’s not.

He looked again. Robin was looming over him now. “Fuck it,” he muttered, pulling out his phone and snapping a picture of Robin's face.

To: I’m a Cat Man: hey s there anythibg there

A second later, he got a reply.

From: I’m a Cat Man: Nope, you’re all good.

To: I’m a Cat Man: Thx

Sure enough, when he looked back up, he was alone again. Laying back down, he spoke aloud. “Really, man? I know you can only do one of these a day. Why blow it this early in the morning?”

As expected, Scáth didn’t reply.

Seán sighed and closed his eyes again. This whole thing wasn’t exactly uncommon. Something about Halloween made it stronger, and brought out its more sadistic streak. He was used to that; he’d been dealing with it for twenty-some years. But this year was worse than it had ever been. Normally, it was just shadows at the edge of his vision, hearing things that weren’t there, maybe three or four nightmares about his family getting horrifically murdered. This was the first year Scáth had been able to create full-blown hallucinations.

Fucking family curse.

His stomach growled. Seán groaned, but pushed himself out of bed. If he really focused, he might be able to put up a front long enough to make some coffee and cereal. And then go back to bed and nap until he needed to record.

At least this year, he had some help. Marvin had seen him collapse last week, when he’d had his first hallucination. After hours of non-stop prodding, he’d finally weaseled out the truth. That made exactly one person on the planet that knew he was still dealing with this shit.

Back when he was a kid, he’d told his family about the voices and the shadows. The next few years had been frantic, trying to find some sort of “cure”. He’d eventually decided to stop being such a stressor and just fake being better.

After that, he managed to strike up a sort of symbiosis with Scáth. They would talk occasionally. He tried to indulge it every now and then; it must be boring being stuck in the head of some depressed asshole, after all. And in response, Scáth had been a bit more lenient in recent years. He’d thought maybe they were finally sort-of getting along.

Apparently, that wasn’t the case.

Jackie looked up from his textbook. “Oh hey, you’re finally up! Took you long enough.”

“Mhm.” Seán just walked over to the counter and put on a pot of coffee. He opened up the cupboard. Did he have enough energy to make oatmeal?

Jackie looked at him curiously. “Are you okay? You look pretty out of it.”

“Hmm?” Seán looked up. “What’d you say?”

Jackie stood up from the table and walked over to him. “Seriously, dude. What's up? You look like shit.”

“Feel like shit.” he replied, rubbing at his face. “I must’ve caught a bug or something. I’m dealing with it.”

“How’d you catch anything? You never leave the house!” Jackie said, smirking.

Seán shoved him playfully. “Alright, alright.” He pulled back. “Really, Jackie, I’m okay. I’ll take some Tylenol or something. Don’t worry about it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.” No. This was only going to get worse. But he didn’t want to bother the others with it. He’d dealt before; he could deal now.

Jackie still looked a little skeptical. “Okay, I guess. Yell if you need anything?”

“Yeah, of course. I’m gonna go work, see ya.”

Seán walked out of the kitchen, coffee in hand, and nearly collapsed against the wall. Fuck. He needed a nap before he recorded, but none of the stuff was done up for today yet. He groaned into his mug and started the trek back upstairs. 20 minutes. He could rush out a thumbnail in 20 minutes and then he could sleep. Maybe.

Belatedly, he realized he never actually ate anything. Oh well. The day was already started, and he was not walking back down those stairs again.

Only four more weeks left of the month.

Fuck his life.

>=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=��=<

“I’m gonna stay on my fucking bongos! Yeah!” Seán smiled, leaning back. “That should be all good, Robin, but tell me if the audio levels need tweaking.” With that, he leaned forward and turned off the camera. The game was much better than the last two, he had to give it that. Still not as good as the first, though. He clicked upload, putting the footage in his dropbox.

The cockroaches swarming his arm chittered. He looked down at them and sighed. “You done?” he asked, brushing them off. He ground a few under his feet for good measure, then got up and headed to the kitchen.

Marvin and Henrik were there already, testing another one of Hen’s hypotheses. Something about manipulating objects and line of sight, he wasn’t sure on the details. Seán ducked under the floating twigs and grabbed some yogurt. He frowned when he heard a thump behind him. Turning around, he asked, “You guys okay-”

Both men were on the floor. Marvin was gurgling, his throat slit. Henrik was motionless, a bleeding hole in his forehead. A man with a knife stood over them, face shadowed.

Seán dropped his bowl with a clatter. He backed up against the wall. “No, no, no,” he panted. “What did you- Who are you?”

The man turned to him, head cocking in curiosity. Then he took a step forward.

“Get away from me!” Seán shrieked, grabbing a steak knife off the counter and holding it out in front of himself. “Don’t come any closer!”

The man didn’t listen. He strode forward, reaching toward Seán. Seán screamed as the man grabbed him. “No, please!”

“Seán!”

He lowered his hands, and suddenly Henrik was knelt in front of him. “Seán, look at me, try to breathe.” Henrik spoke slowly, reassuringly.

“What...Schneep?” Seán glanced back to the center of the room. “But you were...where did…”

“Look at me.” Henrik said. “Just focus here.” He set a hand on Seán’s forehead. “You feel warm. You did not actually recover from that virus, did you?”

“...No.”

“I see.” Henrik stood up. “I will run out to the pharmacy. Marvin, watch Seán.” He stalked out of the kitchen, muttering to himself.

Marvin slowly sat down next to Seán, who had buried his face in his hands. He pulled off his mask and ran a hand through his hair. “Bad one?”

Seán didn’t speak for a moment, instead leaning into Marvin’s side. “Yeah…”

There was silence for a while longer. Eventually, Seán spoke up again. “That was the second one today.”

“What? I thought you said-”

“I did. It’s never been able to do that before.”

Marvin rubbed at his face. “Fuck, man. What should we do?”

“Dunno.”

Marvin bit his lip. “I know what you said before, but maybe we should find someone else. I’m kinda out of my depth here.” “Mhm...”

“Have you thought about maybe getting an exorci-”

“No!”

Seán pulled away from Marvin. “No, please, I can’t..I can’t do that again. Please don’t make me.”

Marvin reeled back, surprised. “Are you okay?”

Seán shook his head. “I don’t- we can’t. Please don’t. They hurt so much.”

“Hey, it was just an idea.” Marvin leaned back against the counter. “What d’you suggest, then?”

Seán didn’t reply. He was too focused on steadying his breathing again. “I can’t see an exorcist.” he repeated.

Marvin looked worried. “Okay, I got it, jeez.” He shuffled away from Seán a bit. “Now what?”

“I don’t know.”

>=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=<

Things only got worse from there.

The hallucinations got more frequent and more violent. Seán was trying to weather them, but he was often bedridden with nausea now, and there was no distraction in his room.

He knew Jackie and Henrik were getting suspicious. Hen had prescribed something stronger after the first week, some sort of antibiotic. Seán had just been flushing them down the toilet. He didn’t want a fucked up immune system on top of all this.

Which led to now, the four of them all sitting together in the living room. Seán couldn’t stop fidgeting, and he could see Marvin glancing at the others, concerned. He sucked in a breath, scrunched his shoulders, and spoke.

“I’m cursed.”

Jackie and Henrik both squinted at him. “Come again?” Henrik asked.

Seán closed his eyes. “My family’s got a curse and I got stuck with it and this thing is always haunting me and usually it’s fine but it gets worse in October but not this bad so this is unusual and I keep hallucinating and I feel like shit I’m sorry.” He looked back up.

Jackie looked both confused and on edge, like he usually did around new magic. Henrik, on the other hand, looked perfectly neutral. “I think I maybe misheard, Jack, you said you were cursed and haunted? This is why you have been so off lately?”

Seán nodded. “I don’t know why it’s so much worse this year. It won’t talk to me either, I’ve only seen what it shows me. It’s like it’s...I don’t know. Acting like it’s angry at me or something?”

“And this is normal for you? This talking to it and seeing it?”

“Yeah.” Seán frowned. “I feel like that’s not really the important part here though? I just wanted to let you guys know why I’m all messed up right now. Marvin and I are trying to figure it out.” He waved an arm in Marvin’s direction.

Henrik turned sharply. “You are?”

Marvin glared back. “Just cause I’m not gifted in healing doesn’t mean I can’t help.” He exhaled. “It’s a little hard to research. But I’m getting some wards and potions and stuff. That should keep it under control.”

“I see.”

Jackie broke in, “How can I help, though? I mean, obviously I’m useless with the magic stuff, but there’s gotta be something I can do, right? You’re also just sick, so I could help with food and cleaning and shit.”

“And what about a doctor?’ Henrik asked.

“Are you serious?” Marvin replied, standing up. “Your friend just told you he’s been dealing with something that would drive a lesser man insane, and you’re so focused on your pride that you get upset he didn’t come to you?”

“In case you didn’t notice, I said ‘a doctor’. Not ‘me’.” Henrik pushed himself up as well. “This has nothing to do with my pride.”

“Guys, please.” Seán said, rubbing at his eyes. “It’s a magic thing, Hen, a doctor isn’t going to help. They sure as shit didn’t help when I was a kid.”

“Well, then they were a bad doctor.” Henrik walked over and sat next to Seán. “Please Jack, let me call a taxi. It’s a Thursday, the emergency room won’t be busy.” he pleaded, resting an arm on his shoulder.

Seán leaned into it. “I’ll be okay. October’s half over anyway, this’ll be done after Halloween. I can deal with it,” he said, smiling.

Henrik looked like he wanted to say more, but Seán got up before he could. “I’m gonna try to get some sleep. Night all.”

Jackie trailed behind him. “You need help up the stairs?”

“No, I’ve got it, thanks.” Seán gave him a side-hug. “Don’t worry about me, it’s supposed to be the other way around.”

Jackie snorted. “You’re not my fuckin’ dad.”

“Ehh, dad, guardian who’s known you three months, potaeto, potahto.” Seán ruffled Jackie’s hair. “Night, doofus.”

“Night, goober.”

>=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=<

Scáth was in his fucking videos.

Seán stared in horror at his monitor. He’d noticed some sort of buzz on Tumblr earlier in the month, but today something had gotten everybody excited enough that the tag was trending. That made him work up the energy to log on; he’d been too tired for social media otherwise. He’d been greeted with an overload of gifs and art, all of some weird, glitchy demon version of himself.

In retrospect, Robin’s text about ‘extra editing’ made sense now.

“What the fuck!?”

Seán looked around his room wildly. “Scáth!” he yelled. “What the everloving shit? What have you done?”

There was no answer. He slumped back in his seat. Maybe it was lack of sleep or something, but he started crying. The channel was his safe place, his people, and now this thing was trying to worm into it. He hated it. He hated it, and he hated how terrible he felt, and he hated this stupid curse. More tears rolled down his face, faster than he could rub them away.

There was a knock at the door. “Jack?” Henrik asked. “I heard you yelling from downstairs. Is all okay?”

When he didn’t answer, Henrik opened the door and came in. Taking in Seán’s state, he gently pulled him out of the chair and into a hug on the floor. “Is okay, my friend. It will be alright.” Seán hugged him tighter, unable to stop crying.

They sat there for some time, Henrik rubbing his back and calmly reassuring him. Seán burrowed into his arms. Hen’s shirt smelled like lavender, and soon he could feel his tears soaking into it. He didn’t move though. The embrace was warm, safe and grounding, just what he needed. Henrik was good at that, physically comforting in exactly the right way,

“What happened?” Henrik eventually asked.

“Scáth is getting into my videos somehow.”

“You saw something in your videos?”

Seán nodded. “I’m so sick of this.”

Henrik pulled back. “Do you want to speak of something else? Have other things been happening?”

“I don’t know. I just feel like I’m always being watched, y’know? Then I keep seeing things out of the corner of my eye but I don’t know if they’re visions or just my imagination. And I keep losing time? Like I zone out and suddenly it’s ten minutes later.” He shuddered. “I don’t know if that’s it, like, possessing me or something.”

Henrik nodded. “Are you ever aware of that? Having a feeling like something else is controlling your body?” he continued.

Seán snorted bitterly. “God, don’t give him ideas,” he said, closing his eyes. He could still feel the tears dripping out of them, slow and sluggish.

“And do you feel like your thoughts are all out of order?”

“I mean yeah, I guess, but I think I’m just tired…” The situation clicked, and Seán stiffened. “Henrik, are you trying to fucking diagnose me? What the hell?” he snapped.

Henrik pulled away fully, looking affronted. “Jack, this is a serious situation. What you have-”

“What I have isn’t something you would have studied! Did you not believe me this entire time?”

“I...what you are experiencing feels real to you, I do not mean to trivialize that. But this...it is dangerous to write off all scientific help, Jack. A professional could help you figure out what this is.”

Seán glared at him. “I know what it is. I told you.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “Is this what you’ve been wanting to talk with me about the last few days? Is that all you came up here for?”

Henrik tried to reach out again, but Seán swatted his hand away. “No, of course not! I was worried about you!”

“Yeah, cause you think I’m fucking crazy!” Seán scooted away from him. “Fuck off!”

“Seán, I-”

“Leave me alone!”

Henrik paused, but then stood up. “Alright. Please, call one of the others if you need anything.” He walked out of the room, but stopped in the doorway. “I am sorry. For overstepping.”

Seán didn’t answer, so Henrik left and closed the door behind him. For some reason, he did a one-eighty in the hallway and tried to come back in, but by then Seán had already summoned a gust of air to turn the lock. Eventually, Henrik gave up and went downstairs.

When he was sure Hen was gone, Seán pushed up and headed to the bathroom. He could feel something sticky and flaky clinging to his cheeks.

>=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=<

He pointedly ignored the book about schizophrenia on the coffee table the next morning.

>=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=<

“Hey, you in there?”

Seán groaned, pulling his pillow off his head. Marvin stood in the doorway, holding a steaming cup of...well, he hoped it was coffee, but the logical side of him knew it wasn’t.

“Dude, you can see me, what d’you mean, ‘you in there’?”

Marvin sat down across from where he was laying, putting the mug on the side table. “You never know, it could’ve been like yesterday.”

Seán pushed himself up, shakily, until he was sitting against the headboard. “Huh? What happened yesterday?”

“You went unresponsive for a while, remember?”

“No.”

Marvin bit his lip. “Oh. Well, you did. Just sat there staring for like, eight hours. None of us could get you to react to anything.”

Seán couldn’t think of a response to that beyond, “Fuck.” He gestured to the mug. “What is it this time?”

Marv leaned back. “Chamomile and Valerian, mostly. Tried to cast some charms on it, but we’ll have to see about those.”

Seán peered down into it, looking at the three lumps sitting in the draught. “And...marble?”

“Nah, just pebbles from the creek.”

“If those break apart and I get a mouthful of sand, I’m punching you.”

“Quit bitching and drink it already.” Marvin sat up. “Oh, I brought some Ibuprofen, too. It’s been six hours, right?” he asked, pulling two tablets from his shirt pocket.

“Yeah, thanks.” Seán reached over to grab them. He pulled a mouthful of liquid from the cup and shook it around the room quickly to cool it, before drinking it out of the air to swallow the pills.

“Well, at least your magic’s more under control?”

“Mhm,” Seán replied, taking a sip from the cup. “Still crazy nauseous though.”

“Well, Henrik could have something for that…” Marvin said, trailing off as Seán stiffened. He folded his arms. “You two are going to have to make up eventually.”

“Coming from you.”

Marvin scowled. “Hey, that’s different!” He fiddled with a strand of hair. “You two are close, I...look, just, he cares about you. Don’t fuck that up.”

Seán sighed. “Can we not do this right now? Please? My head’s hurting like a bitch”

“I guess.” Marvin stood up, brushing off his pants. “I’ve got to run to the store. Let me know if that one helps more than the others, yeah?”

“Will do.” Seán answered, burrowing back under his blankets.

Marvin flicked off the lights as he left, and Seán turned to block out noise with his pillow again. Before he could, however, there was a light knock on the door.

He pushed himself back up to a sitting position. “Did’ja need something else- oh. Hey, Jackie.”

The teen pushed in further at the acknowledgement. “Hey Jack.” He wavered by the side of the bed until Seán patted the spot next to him. Looking relieved, he sat down.

“What’s up?”

“I don’t know, just...how are you feeling?”

“Okay, I guess. Why?”

Jackie exhaled shakily. He fidgeted a bit in place. “I..”

Seán caught on and opened up his arms. Jackie immediately fell into them and started crying. “Last night was horrible,” he said between sobs. “I thought you were gone. I thought you were going to be a vegetable and we’d have to put you in the hospital. I thought at any moment you might just stop breathing. I never want to deal with that again.”

Seán tightened his hug. “Jackie, I’m so sorry,” he mumbled.

“You just stopped talking in the middle of a sentence and wouldn’t move. Nothing I did would get you to wake up. I tried shaking you and screaming at you and Hen tried pinching and prodding you and Marvin tried spells and nothing worked. Eventually we had to keep on doing normal stuff with you just sat there and that was even worse. It was...we couldn’t…” Jackie burrowed his face into Seán’s neck. “I was so scared,” he whispered.

Seán stared at the opposite wall. “I had no idea.”

“Huh?”

“I didn’t know, I thought I just slept through yesterday afternoon. I don’t even remember going downstairs. Marv mentioned something but-oh God.” He closed his eyes, feeling tears rolling down his cheeks. “I don’t remember.”

Jackie sobbed again. “No no no no-”

Seán didn’t reply. He just felt numb. Hallucinations, panic attacks, fainting, all of those he could deal with. They were awful, but they were over with quick enough and then he could get back to normal. But this, completely checking out, for hours at a time?

What happened to my soul during that? Where was I?

Seán was snapped back into the present when he heard Jackie hyperventilating.

“Woah, hey, Jay, look at me.” He pulled back and lifted up Jackie’s face. “You’re okay. I’m okay.”

Jackie shook off his hand. “Are you though?”

Seán’s breath hitched. Jackie rubbed at his face, shuffling back a bit. “What if this doesn’t stop after Halloween? What if you just keep getting worse and worse until…” He didn’t finish the sentence, but they both knew what he meant.

“I won’t.” Seán said firmly. “He’ll be gone after Samhain, I promise. That’s how it works.”

Jackie looked unsure, but didn’t argue.

“And I mean, failing that, we could just end it all.” Seán shrugged.

Jackie reeled back. “What?!”

“Kill myself. End it. Just stop. No more of this and I get control of the situation.” Seán leaned back with a smile. “Wouldn’t that be nice? No responsibility, no pain, no anything. Just nothingness and an empty body left over.”

“What are you talking about?”

He looked over. “Wouldn’t that be nice?” he repeated. “I bet you’d really enjoy it.”

Jackie got up off the bed. “I’m getting Henrik. Something’s wrong.”

Humming contemplatively, he got up as well. Jackie backed away from him, bristling. He turned and rummaged around in his bedside table. “It’s a shame you’re wearing a green hoodie today. We could have had a nice Deadpool scenario going on. That’s what you want, right? To be a superhero.” He pulled out the large butcher’s knife. “When you mix green and red, you just get a gross lookin’ brown.”

Jackie bolted for the door. He’d almost reached it when a gust of air slammed it shut. He tried the doorknob, but quickly pulled away. “Ow! What the fuck?” He cradled his burnt hand as the knob glowed, then began to slowly melt. Jackie turned back to Him in horror. He smiled. The teen was so scared and desperate, it was hilarious. Even funnier, though, was the sadness in his eyes. That’s what came with loss and grief, right? How silly, he wasn’t gone! He grabbed the teen’s shoulder, throwing him to the floor. He knelt over him, a knee on his chest to keep him down. “Hello!”

Jackie was crying now, breaths coming uneven and whiny. “Why, what, who are you?” he gasped.

He hummed. “Let’s see, how to do this.” He looked over at the knife in his hands. “I don’t think this can get through a skull. Chest it is!” He grinned. “You’ll like it! Empty and painless and out of my way.”

He stabbed. Jackie screamed.

He stabbed, Jackie screamed.

He stabbed, Jackie whimpered.

He stabbed. Jackie didn’t respond.

He looked up. The door was open. Someone else screamed.

Standing in the entrance were two other men, the magician and the doctor. More fun!

He stood up, allowing Henrik to run to Jackie. Marvin raised his hands, and vines sprouted around His arms, binding them together.

Henrik frantically buzzed around Jackie, attempting to stem the bleeding, calling 999, turning him on his side into recovery position. “You’re too late,” He spoke up helpfully. “He’s all cleaned out. Nice and empty and gone!”

Henrik kept trying to find a pulse, started CPR as Marvin stood by, horrified. It took a very long time, (frankly He was rather bored by the end of it) but eventually the doctor stopped. “Herr Gott nochmal...” Henrik looked up at the magician, eyes full of tears. “I couldn’t...he’s…” A sob cut him off as he buried his face in his hands. Marvin fell to his knees, expressionless.

“Are you done?” He burned through his plant-handcuff, rubbing at His wrists.

Both men turned to look at Him, furious. “What the fuck have you done?” Marvin yelled at him. The magician strode forward, eyes glowing. “You’re goddamn insane! We should have kicked you out after your first hallucination, you psycho!”

“You can’t kick me out, the apartment lease is under my name.”

“How could you-”

He slit Marvin’s throat.

The magician hit the floor with a gurgle. Henrik screamed, moving towards the door, but He glitched over on top of him. “Hi!” he said with a smile. “Believe me now?”

Blood squirted all over his pajama pants.

“Jack.”

He smiled, surveying the three corpses. No one but Him now.

“Jack!”

He sobbed. How could he have done something like this?

“Seán!”

He jolted.

Seán was sitting back on the bed, still swaddled in blankets. Jackie was shaking him, a hand on either shoulder. “Please, please answer me!” he begged.

“...Jackie?”

Jackie’s arms dropped. “Holy shit. I...fuck. You- you just started screaming, I had no clue what was going on, I thought you’d checked out again-” He breathed harshly. “You’re here, though.”

Seán stared at him. “You’re alive?” he murmured, reaching up a hand to cup Jackie’s face.

Jackie looked confused. “Yeah? I’m fine, it’s you we should be worried about.”

“You’re alive,” he repeated, pressing his other hand to the teen’s unmarred chest. “Thank fuck, I thought he...I thought I..” Another sob cut him off, and he curled in on himself.

Jackie hesitantly wrapped his arms around Seán. “What happened? Are you okay?”

Seán didn’t answer. He just kept crying, letting Jackie hug him.

>=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=<

The next morning, Seán had had enough.

He’d whipped up his recordings as quick as possible, not bothering to check for the glitches he knew were there. After eating as much yogurt and ginger ale as he could stomach (about half a cup of each), he stumbled back up to his bedroom.

Henrik had a 10 hour shift today, so he didn’t have to worry about being disturbed for a while yet. Seán half-heartedly kicked the clothes on the floor toward the hamper, then pushed Schneep’s scattered papers and notes into a pile next to the desk. Having cleared enough space, he set one of his pillows down on the floor between their beds and laid down. He’d had problems in the past, falling out of bed when he did this.

He fidgeted for a while trying to get comfortable (and calm his nerves). Hopefully, the two of them could strike up some deal, something that would make Scáth happy and make next October more bearable. He didn’t think he’d be able to come out of another month like this unscathed.

Breathing deeply, Seán closed his eyes and tried to blank out, focusing only on his thoughts. When he opened them again, he was in a black nothingness.

“Scáth, I know you’re there.”

He took a few steps forward. “Don’t ignore me, asshole. We need to talk.”

“Oh, do we now? So when you ask for something, I’m to respond right away?

Seán whipped around, furious. “What the hell is wrong wi-” He stopped abruptly.

Scáth looked like….him.

They’d met like this before, a few times. If either was particularly pissed off, this served as a place for parlay, or whatever. But all of those times, Scáth had been, well, a shadow; a dark green, gaseous silhouette. Now, it looked almost human. Ripped jeans, combat boots, gauges, and a shock of green hair. And his face. It was as if Seán had an edgier, demonic twin.

Scáth grinned at him with a mouthful of nearly normal teeth. “You like the new style?”

Seán took a step back. “Why do you look like that?” he asked, voice wavering.

“Oh, you know. Reasons.” He took a step forward. “Gosh, Jack, you look terrible. Something keeping you up at night?”

“Fuck off.” Seán spat, fists tightening. “What do you want?”

“Wasn’t it you that called for me? I didn’t come to this wanting anything!” His tone was mocking, patronizing.

“You know what I mean. What happened with you? Suddenly you’re, fucking like, attacking me and making me hallucinate, disassociate, whatever, making me sick, looking like me? And talking in full sentences, what happened to the ominous one word thing?” Seán gripped at his hair. “Did I do something to piss you off? Is that what this is, some revenge thing mixed with your fucked up interests? What do you want, Scáth, I’m at the end of my rope here.”

Scáth laughed. “What, you think I haven’t wanted to do this our whole life? I’ve been dreaming of this since day one, McLoughlin! You, half insane, begging and pleading, surrounded by people who want you institutionalized,”

“Don’t-they don’t want-”

“Oh, is that right? Look me in the eyes and tell me your parents wouldn’t be locking you in another priest’s basement if we were still living with them. Tell me that doctor isn’t going to drop you in a psych ward the moment he has the chance.”

Seán couldn’t bring himself to meet his gaze. Instead, he looked down, scrubbing at tears. “Why now, then? I don’t understand, what changed? What did I do?”

Scáth knelt down to his level, still grinning. “Not a goddamn thing. I just finally got the strength I needed.” His smile turned into a snarl. “Do you have any idea what this is like? My line was powerful enough to force a Taoiseach onto his own sword. And suddenly, because someone’s family stopped having kids for two centuries,” he spat, “I’m stuck with a pathetic, whimpering, traitorous, English speaking c̛̹h̛̪͙i̙l̬̘̫ͅd̪̱̜̤̤, and not even enough power to manifest in the real world.” Scáth grabbed the front of Seán’s shirt, hoisting both of them up. “I was going to bring this land to its knees, bring us back to where we should stand, and instead I got landed with Y̶̛̻̤͕͟O͇͕̜͈̖U̹̕.” He dropped Seán a few inches, wrapping his claws around his neck.

“Shit- Let go of me!”

Scáth snarled. “Here’s a secret I figured out, Jackaboy.” He leaned in, black eyes suddenly glowing a brilliant green. “That community of yours has more power than you could ever imagine. And their ideas! Holy shit, you should see what some of them come up with. They’ve got creation bursting at the seams. Give ‘em a few crumbs, they’ll make the loaf of bread themselves.” He grinned, teeth spiky and horrible. “Say hello to your newest figment.”

Seán was thrown to the floor. He pushed himself up, rubbing at his throat. “Scáth...please, please tell me you didn’t,” he gasped.

Scáth grinned wide. “I prefer Anti, thanks.”

“Oh, God.”

The demon snorted. “He didn’t help your ancestors, buddy, and he sure as hell ain’t helping you.”

“No, there’s no way, you couldn’t have…”

“You should hear them, Seán. ‘Ooh, wouldn’t this be cool, what if he did something for Halloween, what do you think that character would be like.’” He nudged Seán with his foot. “I’m just giving the people what they want!”

“You’re manipulating them to gain power.” Seán growled.

“Eh, same difference.”

“Scáth...just stop, we can figure-”

The demon glitched, and suddenly he was holding Seán up by the shirt again. “I told you to call me A̛̹n̷̫͚̱̗͕t̥͓͡i̝̻!” he yelled.

Seán wriggled in his grasp. “Like hell I will.”

“Oh, that’s how it is? You’ll use the kid’s new name, but not mine? Favouritism isn’t a good look, Jack.”

“Leave him out of this. Leave them all out of this, I’m the one you’re bound to!” Seán wrenched sideways, forcing Anti to drop him. He pushed himself back up to stand opposite.

Anti shrugged. “And?”

Seán gulped. “I- you can’t, please. Please. You can do whatever you want to me, fine, just don’t hurt them.”

Anti stared at him blankly for a few moments. Seán met his gaze, tearful, still gasping for air.

Then the demon laughed. It started low, but raised in pitch and fervor, bouncing around the space without rhyme or reason. Seán glanced around as it echoed around his head.

Anti glitched into his face again. “Well, you offered. How can I refuse such a generous invitation?”

“Huh?” Seán staggered backwards, replaying the conversation in his head. He froze as the weight of his words sunk in. “Oh, God, no. No no nonono…”

Anti wiped at his eyes. “Like a fuckin’ fiddle, holy shit,” he chuckled. “And they say loyalty can’t be a fatal flaw.” The demon waved with a flourish. “Have fun over the next few days, Jack, there’s only so much more time till Samhain.”

Seán surged upwards, knocking his head into Marvin’s.

“Ah, shit!” Marvin fell backwards onto his hands.

Henrik turned around from the desk, looking relieved. “Seán! Thank goodness, I couldn’t wake you, but it looked intentional this time, so I called Marvin up.”

Seán ignored him, turning to Marvin, panicked. The magician looked back, rubbing his forehead. “Seán? What’s wrong?”

He swallowed. “I fucked up. I fucked up real bad.”

>=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=<

“No wait, turn it that way a bit...yes, there!” Jackie exclaimed triumphantly as he and Marvin maneuvered the table into the recording room.

Seán entered behind them, carrying a pumpkin and bag of tools. “I’m sorry, if I’d known it wouldn’t’ve fit through the door, I would have asked you to grab the other table.”

“It’s fine,” Marvin reassured him, leaning back to stretch. “I think the other one is even bigger, anyhow.”

Seán set his things down, unpacking and laying out the knives. “Well, thanks then. I can take it from here, guys.”

He noticed Jackie and Marv glance at each other. “You sure about this? If you space out or slip while carving, you could really hurt yourself,” Jackie said

Seán sighed internally. “I’m good!” he replied, turning around to face the other two. “I have to film something for Halloween anyway, so it doesn’t really matter.” Jackie and Marvin’s grimaces only deepened at that.

He leaned against the table behind him. “I think that last spell you tried really worked this time. I haven’t felt this good since September!”

Marvin’s eyes widened. “Wait, are you serious?”

He smiled wide. “Yeah, I wouldn’t lie about that stuff. You know what I told you, he said this week was going to be hell, but I haven’t seen a thing! Just heard one or two, that’s nothing compared to before.”

Marvin seemed shocked at that idea. “Wow. I uh. Didn’t think we’d actually figure this out.” He was trying to hide it, but Seán could see the subtle joy in his eyes.

“Hug?” Seán asked, arms opening. Marvin nodded loosely wrapping around him, smiling all the while. After a moment, Seán gestured for Jackie to join them. The teen complied happily.

The three of them stood there, huddled together in the recording room. After a bit, Seán pulled back. “I really do have to get this done, though. It’ll be an hour, tops, then I’ll come back down.” He hesitated a moment, then continued, “Henrik’s going to be back soon, right? Maybe we can all go out to dinner together.”

Jackie’s grin widened even more. “Yes! Yes, please, we haven’t done something as a family since your fight.”

“Yeah, I...I wanna fix that. I’ve been treating him like garbage.”

Marvin patted his shoulder. “Good on you. Have fun recording, let us know if anything goes wrong?”

He waved his phone. “Will do. See you guys in a bit.”

>=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=<

“Okay, so the last thing you wanna do is get your knife, and you’re going to have to do fine-”

What’s happening?

Why can’t I move!?

Shush.

Oh God.

I said shut up.

Nononono, please, don’t-

They’re simple instructions Seán. Be quiet!

Stop the knife, stop the knife, stop the-

Oh for fuck’s sake. I’m going to be so glad when you’re gone.

You can’t do this, this is my body!

Not for long.

No, stop, please, stop!

Shink.

It hurts, please, I don’t want to die, it hurts, stop!

Oop, looks like it’s time to go! Say bye-bye, Seány-boy!

HELP ME!

>=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=<

Marvin looked at the clock nervously. “It’s been over an hour.”

“As it was twenty minutes ago.” Henrik replied tersely, leg bouncing.

Jackie sat up abruptly. “I’m going to go check on him.”

Marv ran his hands through his hair. “You probably shouldn’t. Everyone still thinks he lives alone, he’ll have to scrap all that footage. What if he’s in the middle of something important?”

“I don’t care, I feel like something’s up. What if he spaced out again?”

Henrik bit his lip. “You said he was more or less cured.”

“We said he said he was more or less cured,” Marvin murmured.

“I’m going.” Jackie said adamantly. Before Marvin could protest further, he turned and bolted up the stairs.

He came to a stop at the end of the hallway. “Jack?” he asked, knocking. “It’s been a while, you done yet?” When there was no answer, Jackie frowned. “Seán? Everything okay?”

He tried the doorknob, but it wouldn’t turn. He banged on the door. “Seán! What’s going on?” The teen wiggled it more, worried now. “Hey! Talk to me!”

Jackie cursed under his breath when there was still no reply. “Fuck, okay. Sorry in advance, man.” He breathed deeply and steadily, trying to focus. Then he began throwing himself at the door, attempting to ram it open.

Even with all this commotion, no sound came from the recording room. Jackie picked up the pace, the doorframe beginning to creak. “Come on, come on.” Then the lock gave way, the frame splintering as Jackie forced his way in. “Yes!”

He staggered in, balance thrown off. “Seán?”

At first glance, the room appeared empty. It was dim, the curtains closed to make the set consistent. The equipment was still set up, though the lights were all off. He could smell something burnt, as if the bulbs had all blown out. There was another smell, too; something metallic. A fully carved pumpkin sat on the table, knife shoved in the top haphazardly. Both chairs were empty. No one was here.

Jackie pushed inward. There was no way Seán could have left, they would have seen him. Was he in the bathroom?

Then he heard it, barely- a hoarse wheeze, like someone was out of breath. His foot stepped in something wet, then nudged something soft. Jackie froze. He almost didn’t have the resolution to look down. But he did.

Then he screamed.

>=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=<

Henrik looked up quizzically at the first set of bangs. “What is he doing?”, he murmured, sitting up straight.

There was another round of bangs, followed by repeated thumps. Marvin sat up as well, glancing toward the stairs. “What, is he trying to break down the door?”

Henrik paused, listening closely. Then he pushed himself to stand quickly. “Oh for the love of- I think he is.” He rubbed at his face. “He’s going to lose us the deposit. For fuck’s sake.” He hurried out of the room, Marvin following. As they reached the bottom of the staircase, there was the sound of something cracking and the thumps stopped. Marvin slumped his head against the wall and groaned. “Really, Jackie?”

Henrik frowned, sympathizing. “I will help you all pay for damages. I should have better calmed him.”

Marvin gave a subdued thumbs up. As they turned to head back to the living room, they heard a scream. “Henrik! Help!”

Henrik bolted upstairs. Jackie was slumped against the wall opposite the recording room, staring inside. He looked absolutely horrified. His left sock was soaked with blood at the toes.

Henrik cut past him to rush into the room. He flicked on the lights and surveyed the scene. Nothing seemed out of place, but...

He checked the floor.

Seán laid limp, unmoving. His right hand loosely cradled a knife and a pool of blood stained the carpet around his head.

“Scheisse!”

Henrik dropped down to his knees, feeling for a pulse. His fingers came away wet. As he turned Seán’s head he saw the deep, jagged cut across his throat. Henrik’s heart dropped into his stomach.

He fumbled for his phone, dialing 999 while still searching for a heartbeat. He found one just as the operator picked up.

“Hello, yes, I need an ambulance right away!”

“Sir, what is your emergency?”

Marvin’s voice was in the background, likely comforting Jackie, but it was distant, muffled. Unnecessary noise in the current crisis.

Henrik wriggled out of his shirt while yelling into the phone. “My cousin has a slit throat! He is currently unconscious, has a weak heartbeat,” he paused, holding a hand above Seán’s mouth. “little airflow, hypoxia is likely. In fact, the cut is deep, a tracheal transection is possible. The injury occurred sometime in the last two hours, but I don’t know when exactly.” He placed his shirt around the neck injury. “He’s lost at least a litre and a half of blood, perhaps more.”

“Sir, can you give me an address please?”

“Ah, I am not sure exactly. Marvin?” He turned back around. Marvin had his arms around Jackie, murmuring, but he looked up when Henrik called his name. “Huh?”

“What is the apartment’s address?”

He relayed what Marvin told him to the operator. Meanwhile, he kept tabs on Seán’s pulse and breathing.

“Alright, an ambulance and Guard vehicle are on their way. Is there anything else I should know?” the operator asked.

Henrik glanced around. “Uh, the cut was made with a kitchen knife, definitely not sanitized. And-” He paused, breathing deeply. “There is no sign of a break in, and neither I nor our roommates heard anything. The wound is most likely self inflicted.” Marvin and Jackie’s heads snapped up at that, but Henrik ignored them. “He should be placed under suicide watch until we know more.”

“Had he been displaying destructive or out of character behaviours before this?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, I’ll alert the hospital’s mental health crisis team. Keep the wound covered-”

“Yes, I have a shirt on it already. I am a surgeon, I do not need advice. Thank you for your help, go give it to someone else now.”

“But-”

“Have a good evening.”

“Sir!”

Henrik hung up, slumping. “Marvin. Go get Jackie a blanket and some water. He’s having a panic attack.”

Marvin stared at him, dumbfounded. “Henrik, you don’t actually think he-”

“A blanket, Marvin.” Henrik repeated numbly. He fumbled with his phone one handed, opening the clock and placing it on Seán’s stomach. He kept one hand on Seán’s wrist and one over the wound, watching the time.

Marvin entered the room. He glanced back toward Jackie, who was now huddled in a blanket. The teen seemed to be shaking less, that was something. Marvin cleared his throat.

“Could you two go wait for the ambulance, please?” Henrik said.

Marvin wrung his hands. “Hen, he wouldn’t have-”

“Marvin.” Henrik looked up, keeping his hands in place. “Right now I need to focus on keeping him alive. Please, go wait for the ambulance.”

>=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=<

Two days later, Seán hadn’t woken up.

“Not too worrisome,” Dr. Heaney had assured them. “Given the trauma, a state like this isn’t unusual. Just give him time.”

Henrik had added later, over dinner. “His pupils still respond, and he verbalizes sometimes. That is good.”

Still, he could see how worried Jackie and Marvin were. They’d all taken time off of work or school. Every possible minute was spent in the ICU, waiting for something to change.

Henrik could see the pitying looks his coworkers kept giving him. He’d brushed them off initially, when they asked about his lack of scrubs, but it was a rural hospital. Word got around. By the next day, nearly every doctor or nurse had given him an awkward shoulder pat or asked to pray for him. He could see Marvin bristle every time one of them walked by; every 10 minutes, it seemed, someone was sticking their head in the room and asking, “You three okay in here? D’ya need anything?” Frankly, Henrik was amazed Marvin hadn’t snapped at them yet.

Jackie was pacing again. He alternated between that and sitting in a chair wringing his hands. He’d be inconsolable the moment they got back to the apartment, if the last two nights were anything to go off. Henrik had tried to comfort him verbally, but he couldn’t get a word in edgewise. So he’d resorted to just holding the teen as he cried, screamed, panicked, the works. Then it was off to bed for more of the same tomorrow.

Marvin was eternally tense and pissed off. Yelling at the two of them, baristas, pizza guys, anyone not in the hospital. Henrik had given up on trying to get him to talk about his feelings. He clearly wasn’t going to express them willingly. Nothing to do but wait for the emotions to build up until they exploded out in a breakdown. Henrik just hoped the magic wouldn’t be a factor. Their landlord was mad enough about the broken door. A miniature jungle would not help their case.

Henrik himself just felt numb. He couldn’t cry, couldn’t get angry, hadn’t even felt shocked after the ambulance left. His emotions had crashed that night, and had yet to resurface. The small moments he did feel something, it was guilt over not feeling anything. He was a robot, pushing forward as his human roommates broke down around him.

This was their new cycle: wake up, eat, come to the hospital, refuse to talk to each other or anyone else, grab lunch downstairs, come back, go home, fall apart, repeat.

Henrik didn’t know how much more any of them could take.

The heart monitor started beeping rapidly. Marvin startled from his nap, blowing hair out of his face. Jackie froze, turning toward it. Henrik slowly got to his feet, crossing the room. Seán’s heart rate had picked up abruptly, jumping up as if he’d run a marathon. Henrik squinted at it. That didn’t make any sense, even if he was waking up it’d be slower…

Jackie gasped. Henrik glanced at him, but the teen was already rushing forward. “Seán?”

Sure enough, Seán’s eyes were slowly opening. He blinked, eyebrows furrowing. Henrik backed up, reaching towards the call button. Just as he touched it, a painful shock seared up his arm.

“Ow!”

“Hey!”

The doctor turned toward Jackie while he flexed his hand. Seán was grabbing Jackie’s arm firmly. It almost looked like he was digging his fingernails into the skin. Seán’s head remained slumped, looking down. “Let go, man!” Jackie protested, trying to pull away. Seán didn’t reply. His chest heaved

Henrik strode forward, reaching out to touch Seán’s shoulder. He flinched away, not looking at him. Henrik raised his arms placatingly. “Seán, try to relax around the breathing tube, you’ll hurt yourself!” Marvin was up now too, all three of them surrounding the bed.

Jackie finally wrenched himself away. Checking quickly, Henrik could see small dots of blood in his hoodie. A small part of his brain was screaming to get a nurse, but he’d been waiting for this for days. He wasn’t leaving.

Seán stared down at his hands, looking terrified. Marvin bent down, asking what happened, was it the curse, why would he hurt himself, but Seán ignored him. “I..Oh my god...” he murmured. Then he started laughing, high pitched and insane, and that…

That wasn’t right.

He shouldn't be able to talk with the tube in. How could they hear him perfectly?

The door suddenly slammed shut.

The three of them whipped around at the sudden noise.

“What the hell?” Jackie yelped. He ran to the door, trying to pull it open. Marvin’s hands began to glow. “Jay, get back!” he yelled, as a bolt of fire flew into the door. There was a flash, but when it cleared, the door was untouched.

Marvin took a step back. “What? That’s not possible!”

Jackie ran forward and began banging on the door. “Hey, we need help in here! The door’s stuck and my cousin is freaking out! Help!”

Henrik blinked. All the sound around him was muffled. The lights were too bright, why were they so bright? All he could hear was the buzzing. Buzzing coming from all around. Multicoloured lights flashed behind him. People moved and screamed in front of him. He couldn’t figure out what was going on. Any reasoning he tried was too much to stomach. Was this…

“Seán.”

Henrik whirled around and ran toward the bed. “Wait!” Marvin yelled behind him, but he ignored it. The doctor grabbed onto the side of the bed, skidding a bit.

Seán was sitting ramrod straight, staring forward. He was still laughing. Why was he laughing? How was he laughing? What on Earth was going on?

“Seán!” Henrik repeated. He reached out to grab Seán’s arm. “You need to lie back down, your body’s been through a lot.” Seán didn’t look at him. He kept staring forward. Henrik shook his arm. “Can you hear me?”

Seán’s head whipped toward him, almost inhumanly fast. He looked at Henrik, smiling around the breathing tube. “I’m not supposed to be here,” he said plainly.

“What?”

“Why am I still here? I don’t want this, I’m supposed to be done with this. I’m supposed to be dead!” He was crying now, tears streaming down his face around his constant smile.

The other three bristled. Jackie stepped forward slowly. “Seán, you can’t actually mean that-”

“I’M NOT HIM.”

All the lightbulbs in the room blew out. The heart monitor overloaded and sparked. Static screamed at a deafening level. Jackie, Marvin, and Henrik all covered their ears, wincing. When they straightened, they noticed a new silhouette, standing over Seán’s bed.

The figure looked like a man, average height and wearing all black. Meanwhile, Seán had collapsed back onto the bed, lying still. Marvin waved a hand, summoning a handful of glowing flowers. As he moved forward, the light fell across the stranger’s face.

“What?” Henrik murmured, hand flying to his face. Jackie stood frozen in horror. Marvin, however, was glaring daggers at this person. He conjured a burst of flame, preparing to strike.

The figure stared down at his body in wonder, flexing his shoulders and wiggling his fingers. “Cad a tharla?” he whispered. He jolted as the air around his hands sparked. He then turned to look across the bed to Henrik, then down at Seán.

He stretched out a hand, frowning. Abruptly, Seán’s body began to seize and Henrik could hear muffled screaming. “Stop!” he yelled, grabbing the person’s hand just as Marvin fired.

The figment’s body glitched, and suddenly Henrik had a fist to his temple. He reeled to the side as Marvin’s flame flew past and scorched the wall. Henrik stared. “What- how did you?”

“Amach leat.” Marvin growled, raising a hand again.

The person cocked a head to the side. “Cad atá tú ag dul a dhéanamh, a bhuachaill deas? Ní féidir leat mise a bhualadh.”

“Amach leat.” Marvin repeated.

The figure shrugged. “Cibé. Is maith an rud é tú a fheiceáil ag úsáid tine arís.”

Marvin’s scowl deepened. He threw another fireball, but the person smiled, glitched, and disappeared. Henrik yelped, ducking down to avoid being hit.

“Fucker.” Marvin muttered.

Jackie unfroze. “What the hell was that?!” he shrieked, waving his arms around.

Henrik uncovered his head. He stood up slowly, looking at Marvin. “That...was that?”

The magician opened his mouth, looking angry, but both of them were interrupted by a strangled noise coming from the bed.

Seán’s eyes were open. They bolted around frantically, and his chest heaved. Henrik grabbed his hand. “Relax, let it breathe for you. You’re safe, you’re in the hospital.” Seán vocalized, panicked. Henrik squeezed his hand. “It’s okay, you’re okay..” His eyes drifted over to the equipment. The heart monitor was broken, beeping intermittently. Thankfully, the ventilator was still operating. Henrik looked up at Jackie, who was standing at Seán’s other side. “Can you go get a nurse?” he asked.

Jackie’s head shot up. “What? But the door-”

“It’s probably fine now.” Marvin said tersely. He was standing with his arms crossed, glaring at Henrik. Henrik looked away quickly, focusing on Seán. “Please, try to calm down. You’ll be okay, no one here will let anything happen to you. Here, squeeze my hand,” he soothed. He jerked his head toward the door. “Jackie, go.”

The teen hesitated, then took off down the hall. Marvin and Henrik could hear him yelling for help, quieting as he ran further. Marvin stepped up to take Jackie’s spot next to the bed. He avoided looking at Henrik, instead grabbing Seán’s other hand. He didn’t say anything, just held it.

Jackie and a nurse came bolting back into the room. The woman looked around the room, at the three of them, the glitching monitors, the scorch marks. She grabbed her pager, typed something into it, then approached them. “What happened? Why are the walls...are they burnt!?”

“I don’t know, the electronics went on the fritz and it seems like something in the walls burnt.” Henrik blurted out.

“What on earth would have caused that?” She said, shaking her head. Then her eyes widened. “Henrik, your cheek!”

Henrik raised his hands, dropping Seán’s grip. “Ah, it is nothing! I ran into the door at home. It’s been stressful, you know, I wasn’t looking.”

Her eyes narrowed, then darted down to Seán’s panicking form. “Alright, out, all of you.”

“But we-” Jackie spoke up.

“Out, now. This isn’t safe and we need to work. Heaven knows it’ll be enough work stabilizing and moving him already.” She pointed toward the door sternly.

“Don’t fight right now.” Henrik whispered. Marvin’s mouth snapped close. The nurse herded the others out of the room. The last thing he heard was “I need Doctor Heaney, the crisis team, and a maintenance worker in Room 072. Yes, all at once! Hey, it’s alright, honey, you’re safe-” And then the door clicked shut.

>=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=<

When they got home that night, Jackie found the video. They had watched it, morbid curiosity overtaking them. At the climax, Henrik dropped the phone in shock and Jackie had to run to the bathroom to vomit. Marvin walked over to the couch and started throwing pillows and blankets, furious but silent.

Henrik found himself hyperventilating. He tried to speak, but couldn’t get the words out. “How did, he didn’t, upload, people will, have to take it down!” he stuttered.

“We can’t.”

Jackie stood in the doorway, still looking sick. “I tried to delete it on Seán’s computer. The button isn’t even there.”

Henrik stared at him. “What, you, how, you know, when did-” He tried to take a few deep breaths. “You know his password?”

“Jesus fuck, Henrik, priorities.” Marvin spat from behind him. The magician pushed past Henrik into the hall. He pulled on his sneakers.

Henrik and Jackie followed him. “Where are you going? The hospital said we can’t go back until Wednesday.” Jackie said.

“Pharmacy.”

“Why?”

Marvin didn’t look at them as he zipped up his coat. “We can’t just let that be without any follow up. I’m going to go get some clippers and dye.”

Henrik’s jaw dropped. “You said you’ve been growing your hair out for years!”

“Priorities, Henrik.” Marvin slammed the door behind him.

When he got back, he went straight to the bathroom, ignoring either of them. Henrik confiscated Jackie’s phone after the teen had another panic attack looking at Tumblr. An hour later, he heard the door upstairs slam. An hour again, and the door opened, someone crossed the hall, and it slammed again. Henrik opened YouTube on his phone. Sure enough, there was another video up on the channel. The thumbnail featured “Jack” smiling happily. Unharmed. As Henrik put down the phone, he heard a guttural scream come from Marvin’s room. All the plants on the windowsill withered and crumbled to dust. Henrik merely leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes.

He couldn't go back into the shared bedroom, not now. So he might as well try to get some sleep here.

Henrik spent the next twelve hours staring at the ceiling and trying desperately not to think.

>=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=•=<

They stood awkwardly outside the room. No one wanted to go in, not after what happened last time.

“The receptionist said this one, right?”

“Yes.”

No one moved.

“Heaney said he’s been back to a normal sleep schedule. He’s probably awake.”

“That is good.”

Marvin ruffled his newly shorn hair. Jackie shifted his weight, fidgeting in place.

“So uh…”

“Hm?”

Henrik scratched the back of his neck.

Jackie dropped his hands. “Fuck it,” he said, grabbing the doorknob.

The door swung open. They stared in, not moving.

Seán stared back at them. The new room was brighter, with more windows, and it made him look much less pale. He was lying propped up by the hospital bed. The breathing tube had been replaced with an oxygen mask. He had several drips running into his arm. Two sets of handcuffs secured his hands to the rails of the bed.

He smiled slightly and waved as much as the cuffs would let him.

Jackie was the first to break away. He entered cautiously. “Seán?” he asked quietly, reaching the bed. Seán nodded. He sat up, reaching out a hand. Jackie grabbed it in a flash. He stared for a few seconds more, biting his lip. Then he lunged, pulling Seán into a tight hug. Seán let out a breathy laugh, reciprocating as best he could.

“I’m so glad you’re okay,” Jackie sobbed. “So fucking glad.”

Henrik and Marvin walked in as well. Marvin’s face darkened as he looked at the cuffs. Henrik went over to the side and pulled two chairs over from the wall. “We don’t have enough for everyone, sorry.”

Jackie hopped onto the foot of the bed. Henrik passed on a chair to Marvin, then set his own on Seán’s opposite side. Seán’s eyes widened as he got a good look at Marvin. He opened his mouth, but Henrik was quick to interrupt. “Don’t even think about speaking. That will only give you more time in here.”

Seán closed his mouth and resorted to just pointing, at Marvin’s hair and then his own.

“Yeah,” Marvin said. “Don’t worry about it. We needed an emergency video for the channel. Besides, this way I can fill in until you get out of here.” He looked down at the cuffs. “Are you okay with those on?”

Seán paled. He made a so-so motion with his hand, but his eyes were panicked. Marvin quickly grabbed the hand and squeezed firmly.

Henrik cleared his throat. “I brought your laptop.” Seán perked up. Henrik dug into his bag and pulled it out. “I cleared it with your doctor, it’s fine as long as you don’t have the charging cables.”

“Oh!” said Jackie. “You guys gotta see this video the Grumps did recently, it’s so good.”

Seán unlocked the laptop, then passed it over to Jackie. Soon, they were huddled up together, falling down a YouTube rabbit hole.

They were interrupted by a knock. A nurse stood in the doorway. “Sorry to bother you,” he said sheepishly. “Just making the rounds.” He stepped in. “How’re you doing, Mr. McLoughlin? Any pain from the IVs?”

Seán shook his head. “What about your throat?” He shook his head again. The nurse checked some of the drip bags. “Alright, your next dose is in a few hours, but call someone if the pain gets bad again, alright?” Seán nodded.

The nurse turned to the others. “You guys haven’t had any problems, have you?” he asked quietly.

“What d’ya mean?” replied Jackie.

“Well, he hasn’t, ah,” the nurse gestured to Henrik’s cheek. “You know?”

Seán’s eyes widened. He looked at Henrik’s bruised face, then to the nurse, then back to Henrik. Then he raised a shaky hand to point at himself.

“It’s alright!” Henrik said quickly. “You weren’t yourself! I am fine!”

“Why is he in handcuffs?” Marvin interrupted, arms crossed.

The nurse looked dumbfounded. “Are you serious- I literally just-” He sighed and rubbed at his eyes. “With the sudden move and all this equipment, we couldn’t ensure his safety without them. Or ours,” he added under his breath.

Marvin’s scowl deepened. He moved to stand up, but Seán grabbed his hand. He shook his head, eyes wide. Marvin slowly sat back down, still tense.

The nurse looked uneasy. “Okay...well, if that’s all, I’ll leave you all be for now.” With that, he left down the hall.

Marvin watched him go testily. Then he rounded back on Seán. “You’re okay with this!?”

“I’m not safe to be around.” Seán whispered hoarsely. He didn’t meet any of their eyes.

Marvin deflated at that. Jackie and Henrik shot each other a look. The latter got up and moved to the door. He glanced out into the hall before closing the door and walking back. “Seán, you literally weren’t yourself. Some...some thing came out of you and attacked me.”

Jackie nodded. "It was, like, a shadowy, angsty, demon you."

Seán blanched. Henrik took a deep breath. "Is that what your demon looks like?" Seán nodded. Henrik buried his face in his hands. "God, I'm so sorry."

Seán patted his arm. He then turned to Marvin and made a 'continue' motion.

Marvin sighed. "Honestly, there's not much more to it. It showed up, blew out the electronics, glitched around a bit, taunted me, and left."

Seán made a motion toward himself. "No, not back into you, just disappeared. Poof." Marvin answered.

Seán looked sick. He opened his mouth again.

"I don't want to hear anything out of your mouth, especially if it is an apology for something out of your control." Henrik said without looking up.

Seán slumped back, taking a deep breath. Then he made a gathering motion with his hands. Jackie stared at him for a second before going "Oh!" and shuffling over to curl into Seán's side. He then looked expectantly at Marvin and Henrik.

They spoke up at the same time. “No, you guys do your thing, I don’t want to ruin that-” and “I doubt we all would fit, Marvin can take the other side, I’ll just stay here-”

Seán leveled a look at them. Jackie snickered into his hand.

Henrik and Marvin both squirmed, neither moving for a moment. Then the magician huffed. “Alright, fine, move over.” he said, shoving the bed railing down. Seán gasped as he was pulled sideways with it.

“Ah, shit!” Marvin caught him. “Fuck, right, sorry.” He raised it back up and let Seán get his balance. Henrik laughed as he lowered the other rail slowly.

It was clumsy, but eventually they all managed to cuddle together on the bed. If Jackie felt some tears falling onto his head, he didn't mention it.

The four brothers stayed like that, watching Game Grumps until a doctor ushered them out at the end of visiting hours.

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