#i mean not to sound like an origins bro but it's pretty devoid of anything that originally drew me to da

[kirkwallguy]

I'm upset about the lack of choices and the likelihood that the solas romance is going to be pushed more but bringing up the new characters as something that could have been replaced by old ones is a pretty bad faith arguement imo. It's a new game, of course there's going to be new characters? The cameos were never the forefront or the cornerstone of my enjoyment. I mean if you hate the game and only play it in the hopes of getting scraps of your favorite characters from the previous games then ok but why torture yourself like this lol

i mean as long as they don't repeat the mistakes of inquisition and expect us to have read extra material to understand what's going on, i don't care about the new characters THAT much, i just think it's funny to act like they're actual cameos when most people don't know who they are. a charitable read would be that they're rewarding hardcore fans but likeeeee... they're trying to sell books lol

tbh cameos wouldn't be a dealbreaker for me normally, i can take them or leave them in da2 and obviously there are none in origins. but combined with everything else we know about the game i AM still on the fence about getting it... no worldstates means it's unlikely they'll bring up any of the plots i was interested in having resolved or explored further 😑 so it all comes down to the quality of the writing and plots they introduce, which is very hard to judge from the promo esp since apparently everything they're showing is from act 1

[twinkle-art]

hi mads! love your work! super duper normal about it and not insane at all! i wanted to ask what your azem is like in comparison to andromeda; how are they the same, how are they different, and how do those similarities and differences play into her fraught dynamic with emet-selch? thank you for your time and giving me so so so so much psychic damage!

thank you! that’s very high praise! i’d love to!

※perseus uses she/he- i used she in the last post for reading clarity and i’m gonna mostly use he here for the same reason

broadly speaking, my entire basis for perseus’ character is a very meta one. when i first thought her up, andromeda was supposed to be this sexy unflappable butch chad charismatic hero type and then she uh. really, really, really wasn’t that by the time msq was through with her. 

ergo, i thought it'd be fun to make perseus everything andromeda was supposed to be, name and all.

(side note: i first picked andromeda’s name in the character creator on a whim for the sound of it and could not have anticipated what she would become. kind of funny to name your wol Literally The Original Damsel In Fiction though. also you didn't ask but i Also didn't realize that Caecus didn't just mean "blind" but literally is "devoid of light". her garlean name is Damsel von Lightless. girl i'm so sorry.)

okay! similarities first though!

they both have a ravenous zest for life and a persistent good-naturedness that makes them easy to get along with when they let you in. they’re both big ol bleeding hearts who are intensely loyal and the first to throw themselves between danger and anyone in trouble. they’re both cagey about fully opening up, and prefer to fall back on a persona with strangers. they both give 100% to everything they do.

in a poetic sense, you could say the core essences of their souls are the same, beyond just the literal one.  

buuttttttt in practice they are like night and day. perseus’ exterior of an easygoing, almost frat bro-esque guy who doesn’t take anything too seriously may be just as much of an intentional construct as the stoic hero of few words façade that andromeda dons when she’s uncomfortable (that is, with literally everyone for the first three expacs) but it sits, far, far more naturally on him, blending seamlessly with his real self to the point where even he’s not sure where one begins and the other ends. 

where andromeda is deeply insecure, perseus is unwaveringly confident. where she’s easily swayed, he’s frustratingly stubborn. where her persona makes her come off as untouchable to a fault, his makes him effortlessly personable. where she latches on hard in all her relationships, offering her whole heart the second the threshold is breached, he can be flighty-bordering-on-avoidant around meaningfully vulnerable intimacy of any kind. 

and on that note: emet-selch hates andromeda for being, compared to his extremely rose-colored memory of perseus, a downgrade in every way. for better or worse, his azem was someone who would never, ever be cowed into submission, and he has a way of needling his way beneath andromeda’s carefully constructed exterior without even trying. she’s simply not as self-assured as perseus when it really matters, and so he resents every single inch he manages to take from her. he wants, more than anything, for her to fight back.

it’s worth nothing though, that emet-selch knows that perseus possessed a sensitive, complicated interiority beneath all that bravado. in fact, he wasn’t merely among the few privy to her “real” more complicated self, he was pretty uncontestedly the person she confided the most in, like, at all. like when i said the love was intense and practically familial i meant that shit. ironically, his abject refusal to accept andromeda as a worthy successor to someone he was incredibly close with causes him to flatten him in his memory, stripping him of the nuance he was rather special to be trusted with in the first place.

i'm not sure if he ever fully reckoned with that, to be honest. his final and only acknowledgement of andromeda was one of allowing her to stand on her own merits as her own person. even by then, i don't think he could stomach the idea of the two of them meaningfully being the same.

….also, it simply must be said that andromeda gets no bitches due to a brutal combo of terrible luck and self sabotage and perseus was drowning in pussy to the point where he was kind of a menace

[wizkiddx]

without making this a sap story ive had some not so great news from home and am in one of them moods to not talk abt it. but i need a tom h to hug me , pls could u write something like that?

hey anon - i am sending u all my love, and hope things get a little easier for u as soon as possible. if u ever do wanna chat abt nothing or rant just send me a pm x  I hope this is at least somewhat what u were looking for <33

summary: life is sometimes not good, but your fave boy makes it just a little easier to deal with (with some original help from his brother too)

a bit angsty but i promise mainly fluff (and a popcorn fight?)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

What drew you out of the sort-of-trance was a two soft but firm knocks at the door - well Tom’s bedroom door. You’d been relaxing with him and Harry, watching the new ‘Line of Duty’ when your mum had called for the daily catch up. Admittedly, she had already tried to call you twice today but somehow you’d managed to miss both of them. On reflection, possible not that shocking because you’d been at a charity golf day with the boys which involved a fair amount of noise, chat and competition. 

Thankfully the boys had both done pretty well, Tom coming slightly ahead but that was the norm between the two. It meant they were both happily basking in their relative victories and not moody and grumpy like they are oh so often when things go wrong. Because to them, against your pleading, begging and sometimes lecturing…. golf was not just a game.  

You and your mum had always been very close, so usually speaking to her was uplifting and made you feel a little bit more complete - what with travelling with Tom for work, her voice was a slice of home. This time though, it was not so much the case. It was just sad news about your home town. Nothing directly to your family or close friends but still, it makes you feel generally down. 

Who knows how long it’d been since you’d hung up on the phone, just staring at the wall opposite. Everything felt just hollow and empty, lacking in meaning somewhat. You weren’t necessarily thinking, more like devoid of emotion, of thoughts, of anything. Just a bit cold. 

“Y/n…Y/n?” His voice sounded hesitant, as though scared he was interrupting your call. When you didn’t respond, the door cracked open and his fluffy head poked in, not that you noticed - your brain was still half absent. Tom on the other hand, was instantly looking you up and down, very much confused as the why you looked so rigid and not present. Noticing the phone was lying quiet on the bed in front of you, he felt safe to enter. He made a beeline for the bed, perching himself down on the edge, in-front of you - so he was blocking your fascinating view of the grey wall opposite. 

“What’s going on in that little head of yours?” His voice was soft and gravely, choosing not to put much energy into his vocal box as he rubbed up and down one of your arms. 

“Hmmm? Sorry, was miles away.”

“Could tell darl.” As he chuckled his eyes crinkled round the outside. “How was your mum?”

“Yeh…um okay, I-I guess.” As much as you wanted to shake yourself out of it, it just wasn’t that easy. Everything was laced with this underlying chilliness. 

“You sure? You dont really sound it?” 

“No, I um…well I’m not sure. I think I’m okay?”

“What happened?” You shook your head in response, making Tom press his lips together with a small nod. “ Don’t wanna talk about it huh?” 

“Not… not right now. Please?” 

With a permitting nod, Tom stood up and squeezed your hand, urging you to follow. Trailing behind him into the living room, he then instructed you to take a seat on the sofa adjacent to Harry, Tom himself disappearing back into the house. It made you pout a little, you wanted him to just look after you a little this evening but that self pity wasn’t allowed to last long - because a piece of popcorn flew into your cheek. You whipped your head around, with mouth open feigning shock, to see Harry smirking at you cradling a bowl full of other possible missiles in hand. 

“And what was that for?” He shrugged his shoulders, turning his head back to the TV.

“You looked sad.”

“…” Your mouth was open, no words coming out though, as you looked at the frizzy haired boy in bemusement. Sometimes you thought you understood how his head worked but at other points, the boy was a bloody mystery. Instead of explaining his thought process (because there almost certainly wasn’t one), he just smiled evily at you - wiggling his brows. And I know you know what that meant.

Sure enough by the time Tom reentered the room, arms full with different objects he’d collected round the house, the floor had been littered with popcorn kernels. You and Harry were squealing at each other as handfuls of the snack were catapulted vaguely at each other as you chased him round the room. It took Tom shouting at the both of you for you to freeze, slowly lowering your hands in ceasefire with a giggle. 

“I leave you alone for two minutes.”

“ It was his fault!” You protested, causing a 5 minute of ‘ he said-she said’ between the two of you, even if Tom wasn’t listening to the bickering. Instead, he quickly whizzed round the room picking up all the obvious popcorn bits and then spread out all the blankets he’d got from round the rented house on the sofa.

 You knew Harry, in his very own and special way, was only doing all this to cheer you up and you couldn’t appreciate it more. Your relationship with him had recently got so much closer, thanks to Tom being busy on set actually filming - while you and Harry just had some quality ‘almost sibling’ times. And now living with him too - naturally he had grown to know your tells almost as well as Tom. 

“Alright children calm down… thought we could watch movie?” Plopping himself down on the cream seat, Tom made grabby hands to you which of course you had to comply with. 

“I’ll um… I’m gonna leave you to- well to the being in love shit. It’ll make me chunder”

“We love you too bro” Tom called to Harry, who was already on his way out - but the tone of gratefulness in his voice was evident, he appreciated Harry noticing that the two of you could do with time together. 

“Don’t make it weird!” Harry’s response had you sniggering, as you pulled the fluffiest blanket over both you and Tom and nestling into his side. 

After a few minutes of Tom pretending to argue with you about film choice, before ultimately agreeing with your choice of ‘La la land’ as he always planned on letting you. The Holland boys were both very talented at subtly being a shoulder if needed, and yes you knew it was all an act - but you weren’t about to call him out. About halfway through he kissed the crown of your head and murmured. “Can tell you’re not watching darling.” He wasn’t wrong to be fair. Yes, you were looking at the screen - but your mind was far away from the plot line. 

“Sorry I um… minds like a runaway train sometimes.” Tom released a breathy chuckle at that before murmuring a ‘come ‘ere’ to you as he all but lifted you up from sitting by his side. You ended up lying almost onto of him, with both of Tom’s strong arms holding you tightly to him. Smiling into his chest, you nestled closer so the soundtrack to the movie played over the top of his constant thudding heartbeat. It took a few moments of you both just staring into the screen, completely contented for Tom to speak, squeezing you slightly tighter whilst the two of you watched Ryan Gosling and Emma Stone twirling on the road.

“I gotchu now lovie” 

And you swore then that all the thoughts racing in your mind were outpaced by those of a different kind. Still intense ideas, ones that buzzed round your brain, but these were happy. Thoughts of ‘how could I be so lucky’ and ‘I love this man with my whole heart’. 

Apparently these thoughts were also a comfort because when Tom looked down at you after what must’ve been at least half an hour, you were spark out. Breathing deep and unchanging, eye locked shut and mouth slightly squashed against his chest so your lips were pressed together. But what made the boy physical pout was the way you relaxed hand was loosely balled round a fistful of his purple hoodie. As if you were clutching at him to keep him as close to you as possible. 

He felt so grateful - not only for you, but also for the fact that he had the ability to make it a little better. You didn’t need him - Tom swore you were one of the most fiercely independent people he’d ever met - yet it was clear you wanted him. You wanted him when you felt down, the same way you wanted to be around him when you were overly hyper and chatting pure rubbish. You didn’t want him because he was the ‘Tom Holland’ you wanted him because he was Tom. 

He couldn’t fix what was going on back at your home (I mean right now, he still didnt even know what was going on). But he did know how to make everything just a little less shit. He knew how to be your person. 

And that would forever be job Tom was most proud of.

once again sending u all lots of love (esp u anon 💕)

would love to know what u guys think if ya made it this far ;)

tagging (link to join) : @hallecarey1 @hollandfanficlove

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Emp-ire “Vacation.”

Ok everyone, so Just a bit of an announcement before we get to this story. As you know I have been writing this series for over a year now, which includes the book. That means I haven’t worked on anything else in years. I love these stories, and the characters, so I want to keep writing, But, to avoid burnout, I am going to need to take a detour from the the regular themes and write something new. I won’t title them HASO because that is the theme I am stepping away from for a bit. But its all the same characters and what not, just something new so I don’t end up with the desire to quit.

The book’s name is Empyrean Iris so, the nickname I am giving the universe is Emp-ire because it is shorter. If you can think up a better name, I am cool to hear it out, but this is how you will know the difference :).

I hope you will accept the new shenanigans and be willing to ride out this little detour with me. Its for the health of my writing, but I still wanted to give you guys something, while allowing myself to relax and write something else for a little.

Sharp light filtered in through tinted glass. Despite the brightness and pureness of the light, somehow the room still seemed dark. Perhaps it was the sharpness of the light and the blackness of the shadows left in its wake. The room itself seemed cold and barren. The floors were grey, the walls were grey, and the furniture was mostly stainless steel.

There was a chair toppled over on the floor in the center, surrounded by shards of shattered glass which caught the sharp light from outside and warped it to reflect across the room in crystalline patterns.

The walls of the room were barren, mostly devoid of pictures, except for one hanging crooked over the couch- a frozen image of a happy family smiling down from the wall. Somehow, in a room like this their smiles seemed rather hollow. Just across from that a TV was playing static and a defused bluish light filtered onto the floor where it mixed with the white light filtering in from the tinted window, and the bright lunar landscape outside.

The place was silent, mostly silent except for the occasional sloshing of liquid.

He lay on the dull grey floor next to the overturned coffee table. He was a wreck, wearing a stained white T-shirt and boxer shorts. His face was covered in a weak layer of scruff and in one hand he held a bottle. He lay there for another long moment staring with a dead expression up at the ceiling before slowly raising the bottle to his lips and taking another swig. He grimaced, and much of the alcohol spilled out onto his chin and neck, but he didn’t seem to care, and rested his head back against the floor with a dull thud.

He contemplated getting up.

Cleaning himself up maybe.

But that would clearly be too much work with his prosthetic stowed under the bed in the bedroom.

He was a cripple.

He couldn’t get up.

He took another sip from the bottle, hating the taste as much as the fuzziness that clouded his head.

A soft whimper from the other side of the coffee table, and looking up he saw a snout and a pair of ears poke out from behind it.

“Lay down.” He ordered drunkenly

And the nose and snout disappeared again to go along with a dull thud.

He didn’t have the energy to deal with her today, but she was always so insistent. He just wanted to be left along more than anything in the world.  

Adam stared at the ceiling closing his eyes as another wave of incomprehensible self loathing washed over him, he was an idiot, he was pathetic, he was stupid, and he was barely even human. He had no life, no personality, and the one thing that made him interesting was the one thing he couldn’t do at the moment.

He hadn’t told the UNSC of course, he didn’t want to lose his job.

So he had disguised his visit to the moon as extended leave, leave that was VERY extended considering all his unused vacation hours stacked up. If he wanted, he could take the next year off.

The thought scared, him and his fear scared him even more. Why was he so afraid of spending time by himself.

It’s because you don’t have a personality.

Or the fact that you are super boring and you know you would be bored the entire time.

Because you are worried about what you are going to learn about yourself.

Because…. Because you don’t get to see her.

He squeezed his eyes tight shut and groaned.

Stop thinking! Don’t think about that!

And then he heard the sound of keys rattling in the lock. He sat up very quickly suddenly aware that he was legless and unarmed. But who the hell had a key! Only his mother, but she was back on earth, its not like he could think of anyone else to give it to. The key rattled in the lock for a few more seconds.

Adam turned looking around for any sort of weapon and found only the mostly empty bottle at his side.

He looked at it, shrugged, and then downed the last of its content before grabbing it by the neck and brandishing it like a weapon.

The lock clicked and the door was pushed inward. Boots thudded over the grey laminate floor, and a shape came around the corner duffle bag in one hand, a set of keys swinging in the other.

He raised the bottle, ready to throw it at the intruder and then paused.

“Ramirez!”

Ramirez stopped to look at him a dark eyebrow raising over an amber eye. He looked Adam up and down very slowly before, “You look like shit.”

Self consciously Adam managed to lever himself up onto the couch, so he could be a little more dignified, but as he was right now, there wasn’t much hope of that.

Ramirez lifted his nose to the room and sniffed grimacing.

“Dude, its smells like a bar in here, and not the reputable kind. It smells like the kind of bar where the blond chick just threw up in the corner, and drunk uncle dan pissed himself because he passed out.”

“Ok, Ok I get it.”

Ramirez turned to look at him, “No I don’t think you do, bro what the hell.” he bent over and picked up one of the bottles, “Since when did you drink?” He flipped the bottle over, “Since when did you drink this shit. If you are going to get drunk at least make it something good.”

Adam looked away, “Highest alcohol content I could find.”

“Yeah…. That stops now.”

He set down his duffle and crossed his arms over his chest, “Go get yourself cleaned up.”

Adam opened his mouth to protest.

Ramirez held up a hand, “No, no your mother said she would only give me the keys if I got your ass out of the house, and that is what i intend to do.”

“You met my mother!”

“Yes, lovely lady, though the next time she sees you shes gonna beat your ass. Now get up and go wash the stench off, I can smell you from here. Also,...” He looked down, reaching into his bag and tossing a small white bottle over to Adam, who, somehow, managed to catch it.

The two of them stared in surprise for a second before Adam flipped the bottle over to read the label.

“Ethen-null?” He read aloud, “What is this.”

“Take two, they should neutralize the ethanol in your bloodstream. I used to carry a bottle around in my wilder days. ITs great when you want to get super drunk late at night, but you don’t want to be a shitty human being while driving home drunk.”

“I don't w-”

“Option one is you take them voluntarily, option two is that I make you take them, and I guarantee that you aren’t going to like option two.”

“I can’t walk.”

“Boo hoo, get up and hop your crippled ass to the shower, I know you can.”

HE blinked a bit surprised at the venom in Ramirez’s tone. No one had spoken to him like that in a while. The ones who did speak to him kept tip toeing around him as if they knew there was some problem, but not wanting to address it.

“NOW!”

“Ok, Ok, jeeze.” 

He uncapped the bottle first, tipping two of the little white pills into his hand before swallowing them dry and then getting unsteadily to his remaining foot. Ramirez didn’t make one single  move to help him as he hopped, or crawled his way across the room and towards the hallway where his room was.

Opening the door, it was clear the place hadn’t been touched since he moved in.

He didn’t really know why.

There was something about sleeping in a bed somewhere that made that place permanent.

He wobbled through the door into the bathroom, which, luckily for him had a walk in shower and a bench.

Despite his original dislike for the idea of getting up, the water felt good on his aching soul, and he spent some minutes trying to scrub the alcohol and grease from his body. A thick coat of steam rose up around him as the warm water evaporated, rolling down the glass in rivulets.

He admitted to feeling a little better as he hoped out of the shower and onto the heated tiles, gripping the railing on the wall for support as he moved over to the mirror.

His mouth tasted pretty foul, but at least his head was clear, and he took at least five minutes of brushing his teeth and two cup fulls of mouthwash to satisfy him.

He contemplated not shaving, but decided he might as well since he was here.

His leg was already beginning to ache with trying to hold himself up, and he took the indignity of crawling on his hands and knee into the bedroom, in only a towel, rooting under the bed until his hand fell on the cold outside of the prosthetic.

He closed his eyes unable to look as he pulled it out from under the bed and strapped it on feeling the motors whirr to life as he finally picked himself up off the floor.

He refused to look down as he walked over to the drawers and pulled out a fresh set of clothes, tossing his nasty ones into a bin in the closet.

Over the sound of the fan in the bathroom, he thought he could hear the sound of a vacuum and then pots and pans clanging in the kitchen.

Curious, he stepped out into the hallway only to find that the front room had been tidied. The chairs and overturned tables had been picked up, the glass had been vacuumed, and waffles was greedily staring at Ramirez as he popped a piece of toast from the toaster,  buttering it lightly before handing ti down to the dog, who took it gently and walked over to her bowl.

Ramirez looked over his shoulder, “She deserves it after having to deal with your dumbass for the past few weeks.”

He took a seat at the dining room table.

“Feeling any better?”

“Feeling human at least…. I guess.”

“Good,also you better be hungry because I am making breakfast.”

“I didn’t know you could cook.”

Ramirez raised an eyebrow at him, “Really, I  come from a long and illustrious line of people who enjoy fiestas and siestas, so of course I know how to cook. My abuela would be horrified you even suggested such a thing. Just because YOU can’t cook.” he turned to the kitchen, “All this food in here, and the only thing I find open is a box of cereal, which is weird because no milk was open, which makes me think you have just been shoveling it into your face dry like dog food. Speaking of dog food, you HAVE been feeding waffles, right?”

Adam frowned a little affronted, “Of course I have!”

“Good, because I was about to slap your bitch as if you weren't.” Across the room waffles licked her chops rather loudly.

Adam paused and looked down at the table as Ramirez walked over setting a plate in front of him.

“What are you doing here?”

“Taking care of you, what does it look like. My matronly side really comes out when I think my friends are being stupid. Now eat your breakfast, or the shoe comes off.”

“The shoe?’

“Another long and glorious tradition passed down through the centuries that involves throwing your shoe and disobedient children.”

Adam raised his hands, “Ok, ok, I’m eating.”

He picked up the fork as ramirez turned to sit down next to him.

As soon as he took a bite, his mouth exploded with flavor, it was so good it was almost as if he could experience it through all five senses, and even a few more. His mouth began to immediately water. He hadn’t eaten like this in months, and found that he was surprisingly ravenous.”

Ramirez looked on smugly as he polished off the plate and then saat back in his seat,.

“More?”

Adam nodded.

Ramirez took the plate and returned with a second helping, which Adam managed much more slowly this time.

“So….”

“So?”

“How is the crew.”

The  atmosphere seemed to sour just a little. Ramirez shrugged, “Since you left, its been ok I guess. Simon is doing alright but she kind of a stickler for rules, and becomes even more so when she is stressed, which kind of puts a damper on things….. She not as good as you are truth be told.”

There was a silence in the room.

“And…. Kanan?”

“Oh he’s still pissed. I am pretty sure when you get back you might have to duel him, or at least take a punch, but he’s sort of stepped up to take care of the clan and….. The weapons system since….”

“So she’s still gone is she/’

Ramirez sighed, “yeah, she's still gone, but she left a bunch of her stuff on the ship, and apparently she told kanan she was only going to be out for a couple of months, so here is to hoping she returns.” Ramirez paused turning to look at Adam with a frown.

Adam shrugged, “What.”

“You’re a real dumbass, you know that.” Adam sighed, “Soyou have said.”

“No no, you are going to hear me out for a second because I have a few things to say to you. I have been thinking bout it on my trip to find you, and I think its about time someone said them.”

Adam waited.

“You are the smartest dumb person I have ever met.” Adam blinked, “Here is a man who doesn’t need to do orbital calculations to fly a jet into orbit. He is a man who knows exactly what to do and what to say to new alien species. Here is a man who practically defined a generation, and yet here is that same dumbass abandoning his support system when he needs it the most. You have that habit, you know that. The habit of telling the Rest of us to F-off when you really need us. Its like you think that somehow we can’t handle your problems, when bitch, we have problems of our own, and if we can’t handle your we wouldn’t be offering to help. He leaned forward across the table, “You need to step up and do better because this is getting tiring.”

Adam remained in his seat staring at Ramirez and he sat back.

“Are you done?”

“No.” He slumped a bit, “But that will have to do for now.”

Adam sighed,, stared out the window at the Lunar landscape for a long moment before, “You know after years and years, after therapy and after psychologist after psychologist….. Not one has anyone ever said that.”

Ramirez watched him shiftily, not sure where this was going.

“Ive been waiting years for someone to tell me that?”

Ramirez blinked, “ok…. Ok well… shit I didn’t really expect that to work. I was just pissed to be honest.”

Adam shrugged.

“I get tired of people being so understanding all the time. It doesn’t help…. At least not me anyway.”

“Well in that case.”

Ramirez stood and walked over to his duffel bag, “You and I are going to go on a little vacation. Get out and experience the universe while we are still young. Find ourselves, and hopefully get into a shit ton of trouble.”

Adam frowned, “Are you sure about this.”

He grinned, “yes, and I know the perfect palace to start.”

He grabbed the duffle bag, and then flipped it’s contents onto the floor, “Your mom gave me these.”

Andam stood and walked over, turning to look down at the pile of clothes before snorting a laugh, “You can’t be serious.”

Ramirez grinned, “Nothing more wild that the final frontier.”

Adam reached down, and picked up two sets of wide brimmed cowboy hats from the floor pulling them apart. One was black and the other was a light tan, “You aren’t serious.”

“Do I look like I’m joking.”

With a snort he reached over and crammed the hat on to Ramirez’s head before pulling the black hat onto his own.

Ramirex struck a pose, ‘What do you think, make a pretty good cowboy, wont I.”

“You look like as much of a dumbass as I am.”

“Ouch, that really hurts me on the inside you know.”

Adam turned to look at his reflection in the window, “So this is how you are going to fix me huh, playing dress up?”

“Ok, number one I am hoping to help you fix yourself, number two your mother says you love playing dress up, and number three, I want to go on a cool vacation, but no one else will go with me.”

Adam sighed, and rolled his eyes, “Ok, ok we will go on a vacation.”

Ramirez rubbed his hands together evilly, “Excellent.”

[heavenlysageee]

Storms Like These

Chapter 3: Hydrangeas in Bloom 

fandom: BNHA/Dabi/Shinsou

pairing: Dabi x GN!Reader

word count: 1616 words

!Possible TW!: complicated grief, depression, mentions of death

>> Previous Chapter <<  >> Next Chapter<< 

a/n: thank you so much for keeping up with the story this far! i have been a little pre-occupied with stuff at home and university but i’m doing my best to try and continue the story!

»» — —  —   —  ♡— — — — ««  ♡  »»— — — —  —  — ♡ — — —  — ««

Reader’s POV

Your hands carefully wrap the clear plastic around the wildflower bouquet and set it to the side for an order. It’s one of your favorites, it isn’t restrictive, it’s a spontaneous but pretty bouquet. The sun was almost setting, which means you’re almost free. You untie your flower shop apron and glance over at Hitoshi surrounded by purple wolfsbane, his hair was so bright it’s like he belonged there. He was spritzing it with water and mindlessly checking for their health. As if noticing your glances, he brings one particularly ill-looking camellia plant over and carefully pushes it onto the counter.

Looking at you expectantly, he gestured toward the flower and said, “Alright, do your thing and save the poor soul.” 

You gently smile and your fingers snake around the base of the potted plant allowing your quirk to regenerate the life of the plant. You feel heat in your finger tips and little sparks of green are apparent while you watch the original rouge of the flower return into its venation. Once the flower regains its former beauty, Hitoshi grabs it and says, “Imagine what you could’ve done if you were a pro-hero like me. We would’ve been partners roaming the streets and protecting its citizens just like how we told mom we would.” 

Your hands quickly slip away from the counter and you turn away toward the window. “And I tell you the same answer over and over again Toshi, it’s just not my thing. We were kids. I promised mom I would take care of the flower shop and I know she wouldn’t want me to abandon it.” The slight tension that filled the air after you mentioned your mom was palpable. The silence was so painful that it almost physically hurt. Your hands balled into fists at your side and you try to relieve the awkward tense energy filling your body by doing menial tasks like counting stock. 

“I’m sorry, for uh, mentioning mom.” You mutter before timidly glancing at your brother who hasn’t spoken a word. His face was devoid of expression while he looked at you. Crap. I really struck a nerve this time around. 

He gave a half-smile and replied, “No one told you to abandon it. Just - consider it at least one of these days. I’d like to hang out with my blood, after all, you’re all I have left of mom.” Hitoshi untied his apron and folded it onto the counter quietly. He looked you in the eyes and spoke in small sentences, “I’m uh - gonna start to head upstairs to your apartment for a bit just to clear my head. I’ll see you in a bit.”

The guilt washed over you like an icy bucket of water. When Mom passed away, Hitoshi’s grieving process was complicated. After the burial, you couldn’t get in contact with him for 3 months, he just disappeared. Always leaving unreturned voice-mails and countless calls, you couldn’t take the stress of wondering where he was. You drove 3.5 hours to his place and stormed into his apartment. 

Before you could even open the door, your body froze. Whether it was the stupid sibling “intuition” or your own fear, it took every muscle fiber in your body to turn the spare key to his apartment. You opened the door and his apartment was absolutely horrific. The stench was a mixture of old food and unwashed laundry, plates were stacked high in the sink, shattered alcohol bottles and pictures of your mom littered the floor. When you got to his room, you found him on the floor curled up in a ball releasing the most gut-wrenching cry. His room was just as equally messy with the bed sheets haphazardly thrown off the bed, laundry basket overflowing, and no light in his room whatsoever. 

You’ll never forget that moment, you didn’t know what else to do except scoop him into your arms and hold him. You’re all he has left. He wasn’t wrong. 

Shaking yourself from the memory, the door to the storefront swung open with a little ring. “Hello, welcome to The Garden, how can I help you?” Familiar purple and olive skinned hands pressed flat against the counter filling your nose with a mix of leather and cigarettes. Your eyes trace up to find Dabi leaning onto your counter holding his chin up with a confident smile plastered across his face. 

“Hello angel, how’s it been since the last time we met? Missed me?” You rolled your eyes to try and hide the little sparks that flittered along your skin into your stomach. You met his eyes and brought your face to the same level as his leaving only a few inches of space between you two. “It was just last night, I couldn’t miss you even if I tried.” 

His eyes seemed to run down your features as if he was burning every inch of your face into his mind’s eye, stopping at your lips. “Well, I sure as hell missed you gently tending to me. So I just had to come back for round two.” This man is too damn smooth - it’s almost alarming. Straightening your posture, you returned your position at the register and asked him, “What’s the real reason you came to my flower shop and not my apartment?”

He straightened at your question and began to take a look around the entire flower shop. “You said I could ask you for help with absolutely anything. So I came here to your business to ask you for a favor as a prospective business partner.” You raised your eyebrows at his suggestion but figured it wouldn’t hurt to hear him out. Crossing your arms you pivot your attention toward the burnt man in the leather jacket. “Go on.”

His lips upturned into a half smile and glanced at you from the side. “I can’t say it here though, it’s a bit of a private affair. You know, just between you and I. I can’t just let anybody hear it.” Your brows furrowed in confusion. What the hell is he talking about? What kind of favor is this? 

Before you could inquire any further, he shook his head and shoved his hands into his ripped jean pockets. “I’ll call you and we can just meet up at a joint I know. Somewhere you and I can talk comfortably.” He pulls his phone out and hands it over to you expectantly. You tilt your head to the side still clouded in slight confusion but texted yourself from his phone nevertheless. He grabs his phone back from you and his other hand slides cash across the counter toward you. 

You laughed a little, “Dabi, what is this for? You don’t need to pay me for giving you my number.” He shook his head and picked up one hydrangea, “I’ll contribute to your business in exchange for helping me. Consider this my expression of gratitude if you will. It’s a pleasure doing business with you dollface.” 

Once his lanky figure disappears from sight, you finish closing up the register and lock the store. You’re not sure what it is about him but he makes you feel valuable and pursued. Maybe it’s just your heart getting a little lonely or bored, but it’s a nice feeling to be chased by another person. You flip the light switch, do one last check that all the closing tasks are done and post a little post-it note for the opening staff to look at. 

Going up the stairs to your apartment you notice that Shinsou was standing in your kitchen drinking a bottle of water looking slightly disgruntled. You fell onto the couch and gave your legs a much needed stretch from standing the entire shift. Turning toward Hitoshi, you frown and ask, “What’s got you all mad like that for? You look more dead than usual?” 

Your question seemed to shake his mind out of whatever was bothering him and he put on the warm smile you liked. “Nah, it’s nothing. Just stressed about work, big hero things.” You shrug it off and flip through channels on the TV, “Yeah, no that sounds like something out of my specialty. All you bro.” 

He approaches you onto the couch and after a few minutes of enjoying each other’s company, he asks, “Do you keep track of all the customers in your store?” You chuckle and turn to him, “Uh, not really Toshi. There’s usually too many people to keep count of. You know, there’s weddings, funerals, and the usual couples or filial children.” Before you could continue any further he replies abruptly, “Just watch out okay? Like I told you, I’ve been assigned to a nearby area. So I don’t want you letting your guard down.” 

Giving him a comforting nudge, you smile, “You know me better than that, you know I’m not like that.” He looks down and seems to be satisfied with your answer. He stretches his legs out and leans back on the other end of the couch opposite of you. “You cool with it if I sleep over in the guest room for tonight? I’m a little too lazy to drive back right now. Plus, I have a shift patrolling here tomorrow anyways since it’s my first day with the agency I was telling you about.” You kick him in the calf with the one leg that was resting on the couch. “So that’s what you were planning all along loser?” You shook your head and continued watching the TV. Hitoshi playfully sings, “I didn’t hear a no, so I’m gonna take it as a yes.” 

[justjessame]

Avery Emerson Clay: Hook, Line, and ... Have Y'all Ever Been Bait?!

My new schedule began the next morning, tempered only by waking up in Jake’s arms, and followed by a lengthy shower that was definitely Jake’s way of negotiating for me to behave in the way my dad and brother expected me to. Trust me, if Jake was willing to wake me up this way every damn day, I’d be more than willing to go along with Daddy and Clay’s stupid script with less bitching than my tiny body would put out naturally.

If you’d ever seen Jake Jensen fully naked and covered in bubbles, which you won’t because I’d beat you bloody, you’d understand my compulsion to go with the flow.

While being put into a more malleable state, I wasn’t completely devoid of my own personality. I pulled a few choices for attire for my first day as bait. Since I’d be jogging, then running errands to the office, and - God help us all, shopping, I would need a few wardrobe changes.

“Do you really think that is a good idea?” Jake was barely containing his laughter, and I didn’t really want him to. I was pulling on my first costume, the athletic look, and I knew exactly what he was talking about.

I turned to face him and made sure I was wearing the most exaggerated perky look I could force my face into. “Now, Jake, isn’t the point to make Maxi-poo grab my tiny ass?” The shirt was tight and bedazzled with the word “SNACK” across my tits, it was a joke clearly, something my mom had grabbed on one of her and Dad’s many trips. Something NO ONE ever expected me to actually wear in public. “I have another one in here that says ‘JUICY’, if you think that’s better?” I bit my tongue and he shook his head laughing before coming close enough to kiss me.

“You’re incredible, Avery,” I was on tiptoes to keep contact, but Jake was helpful and cupped my ass through the very tight shorts I’d paired the stupid shirt with and lifted me so I could wrap myself around him. “I’m sure your dad and Clay are going to pop a blood vessel between them, but I think you’re fucking amazing.”

With that in mind, I grabbed my earbuds, my cell phone, and headed off for my extra dose of jogging that I fucking hated. Dad stared at my outfit, but refrained from offering any feedback while Clay lamented the narrow choices that it gave for hiding the tracking device and bug to keep me company.

“So I get to keep Jake inside me all day?” I caught Jake’s eye and grinned at how red and purple he could get in public. “Maybe next time lead with that when selling the op to me.”

“Ave,” Clay was tucking the earwig into my earbud, making them one, “maybe try to keep Jake alive by NOT making him a target for Dad’s fucking rage?” His voice was quiet enough that I was fairly certain Dad couldn’t hear him. “You like him, right?”

I sighed, “yeah, I do.” Which sucked, because pissing Dad off was pretty fucking fun, but getting Jake maimed would suck far worse. “Alright, so I jog down the hill and around the park and then back up the bike path,” I thought the best way to fix shit was to pretend I didn’t say anything bad at all. “If I have to do it more days than usual, I don’t see the point in diverting from the same course.”

“Right,” Dad offered, grabbing my water bottle from the fridge and handing it to me. “While you jog, keep the music to a lower level than eardrum bursting, that way not only Jake can hear you, alright?”

I nodded and he walked me out. Dad stayed with me in the driveway while I stretched, talking me through the finer points of some of the self defense shit that I hadn’t touched in awhile. “But I can’t incapacitate him, right?” I groaned, touching my toes. “The point is to get Max to take me.”

“Take you, but not hurt you, Avery.” Dad stepped closer to me. “Make sure he knows you're a Clay, princess.” With a kiss to my forehead and a pat on my back I was off on my run.

Nothing happened during my jog, or my shopping trip. Aside from mind numbing boredom. I hated to shop. Unless it was for my pets or for a purpose. Mindless shopping because I could? Boring. Glancing at the files I had on the passenger seat of my car, I felt another sigh build. Last errand on my list for day one of my ‘routine’, Guardian Incorporated.

“You’re doing great, sweetheart,” Dad’s voice cut in, as I moved through traffic. Throughout the day, Dad, Clay, and Jake had given me mini pep talks. They weren’t as helpful as they hoped to be, but I couldn’t and wouldn’t tell them that. “One more stop and then you can come home.”

“Yep,” I agreed, pulling into the garage after being nodded through the security gate. “One more chore then fetch and yoga.”

Soft chuckles broke through my earbud and I smiled. “Never thought I’d hear you sound happy about the yoga, princess.” The chuckles belonged to all three men in my life, but the comment was fully Daddy.

“Yeah, well don’t hold me to it for long.” I muttered. Grabbing the files and my employee badge, I beeped my car locked and headed for the bank of elevators in the employee garage.

The first couple of days were simple and non-eventful. I jogged. I shopped. I did errands to GI. We added stops and errands that made sense.

Rose was back at work. She didn’t say a word about the missing practice dummy or about my new schedule, which says a lot about how long she’d been with our family.

Jake had moved into my room, there seemed to be NO point in keeping up some stupid pretense in having his things in a separate room, and forcing Rose to keep it in the same state as a room that actually had a person staying in it.

It was a regular day, at least my NEW regular. Wake up wrapped up in the warmth that was Jake Jensen, get a hot shower to make my day a little easier to face, then dress for a jog that I’d rather not fucking deal with - with an earbud in my head with music and three men giving me their version of motivational advice.

Once I was miserable from the exertion, I’d come home for a less pleasant shower, redress in my next costume change, this time for mindless shopping and whatever bullshit “look at me” errands the men in my family devised for Max to find me doing. A bundle of “files” for good measure next to me in the car, and away I’d go, my earwig in place.

Jake, Daddy, and Clay would take turns to tell me how good I was doing or tell me how fabulous I was in all ways shapes and forms. I’d maneuver through traffic and I’d work through the stores and the shiny happy people that I was supposed to enjoy dealing with on the daily. Spoiler: I wasn’t enjoying dealing with these people on the daily.

Off to GI, where I’d be waved through the gate, onto the employee garage, into the employee elevators and up through the floors. Dropping a file here, there and everywhere until I was back in my car and home. Except, today, I made a different choice.

“What if I don’t park in the garage?” I had to ask out loud, the earwig wasn’t a mindreader, thank fucking God. No one answered, so I went on with my idea. “If I go in through the main entrance, maybe Max will see me. I mean it’s not like he has the same access as I do.” Fucking lightbulb moment.

“Try it,” Clay, the voice of reason, or at this point fucking try anything. “Give it a shot, Ave.”

“I plan on it, bro.” I was pulling up to the curb, hoping that I had the necessary shit for the parking meter. “Let’s hope I don’t get a fucking ticket, OK?”

The light chuckles told me they were tense, but hopeful. Could family members and your boyfriend really be hopeful for your possible kidnapping? Yes, I figured. Yes, they could. I grabbed the files and some change from the cupholder and clipped my badge onto the top folder. Here goes nothing.

I was waiting at the first bank of elevators, holding the files and doing the mental math for how long the meter would give me before I’d have a ticket to pay, when I felt it. The tingle that tells you someone is paying attention to you. Close attention.

The mantra started in my head. “Don’t look, don’t look, don’t look.” The worst thing I could do was look, right? I mean if Max was actually here, looking would be the tale tell sign that I KNEW.

The elevator dinged open and I stepped onto it, alone. And as the doors were about to slide shut, a voice called out asking for me to hold it. I just managed, and the person who stepped inside was so benign that I doubted highly that it was the Max that my brother was looking for. This man? This linen suited, perfectly coifed, somehow pansy-assed looking man was a black ops burning psycho? REALLY?

“Do you mind pressing 3 for me?” He asked and I shook my head and tapped the button. “Thank you, Miss?”

“You’re welcome.” I stepped to the right, putting a bit more space between us and focusing on the files in my hand.

“That’s not very friendly,” I didn’t answer, but he didn’t really need me to. “I’d think that the daughter of Guardian Incorporated’s founder would want to put on a more welcoming demeanor for a prospective client.”

I looked up to see him staring down at me with a hint of a smirk on his lips. “I’d expect a prospective client to know that the daughter of the founder is in disgrace right now, so pandering to prospective clients isn’t high on her to-do list.”

“Touche, Miss Clay.” He gave a small tilt of his head, point to me. “I guess I missed that tidbit. Whatever could such a striking young woman do to fall into ‘disgrace’ was it?”

I moved slightly closer to him and tilted my head closer too. “I tasered an employee's balls when he muttered ‘nepotism’ at me a time too many.” A shrug of my shoulder and I moved back to my original position. “Now I work from home, unless I’m forced to bring paperwork in that can’t be faxed or digitally sent.”

He was grinning at me with real amusement now. “Pity, I’m sure you add more than just beauty to the workplace, Miss Clay.”

My floor dinged and I exited the elevator. “It was nice to meet you, Mister -”

“Oh, I think we’ll meet again real soon, Miss Clay.” He was fixing his cuffs and I noted that one hand was wearing a leather glove. “Very soon.”

“I can’t be completely sure,” I muttered once the elevator doors were shut and it started to move to the next floor. “But I’m pretty confident that Max and I just shared an elevator.”

[britesparc]

Weekend Top Ten #454

Top Ten Launch Games 

Oooh, it’s finally here!  

By the time you read this, the Xbox Series X/S consoles will be out, and the PlayStation 5 will be imminent if not already with us. At the time of writing I’ve yet to sample either console, although hopefully that will soon change. However, it’s a bit of a weird console launch, especially for Xbox owners, as there’s not much in the way of actual launch titles. PlayStation has the excellent-looking technical showcase (in that it shows off their sexy new controller, if not necessarily the excesses of the console’s visual prowess) Astro’s Playroom. But on the Xbox side, the only genuine first-party exclusive (not including the port of rather smashing PC title Gears Tactics) was to be the troubled Halo Infinite, which has now been pushed to next year to deal with some of its apparent graphical deficiencies. For what it’s worth, as a Halo fan, I thought the actual gameplay presented looked as good as it always has, so I’m still very excited, but it’s a shame not to sample something genuinely new and shiny at launch. For me, then – as someone not getting a PlayStation this year – I’m going to have to contend myself with updated versions of older games, and hopefully something like the really exciting-looking The Falconeer or, eventually, Cyberpunk 2077.  

Of course, it’s not always been like this; in the past, a landmark game has often been the core reason to upgrade to a new console. Certain titles have defined their hardware platforms, offering a taste of the experiences to come, be it through revolutionary control systems, previously-unimaginable graphics, or simply by shattering preconceptions and expectations. As such, this weekend I’m celebrating my favourite launch titles. 

Now, a couple of my usual caveats. I’ve hardly owned any consoles in the grand scheme of things; I was a computer gamer until the launch of the first Xbox, and even then was PC-first until about midway through the 360’s life. As such I came to a lot of these late, or played them on friends’ systems. I’m sure a videogame historian would give you another list, one that was able to put each title into its historical perspective. For my part, I’m mostly basing it on how much I like the game, but I am also trying to weight it in terms of its “importance”. I mean, one of my favourite “launch titles” of all time would be Lego Marvel Super Heroes on the Xbox One/PS4, but that seems a bit of a ridiculous game to call a launch title, especially as it doesn’t really show off the hardware or define the generation in any particular way. I just think it rocks. So I’m trying to judge it also in terms of how effective a given game was at being a launch title, as well as my personal preference; as such, some games, which I think are more emblematic of their time or their hardware, might end up higher in the list than if I was otherwise just ranking my favourites.  

Christ, that was boring. Look, here are ten games that I like that came out when a console came out. Have at it. 

Halo: Combat Evolved (Xbox, 2001): it’s not just that it made playing an FPS on a console as comfortable and enjoyable as on PC, but it revolutionised what an FPS could do. Expansive open landscapes, dynamic combat with intelligent enemies, an ingenious shield/health combo, two weapons, drivable vehicles, and frankly outstanding graphics. And for Xbox – a curious underdog, a big black sheep devoid of cool or class and feeling like Microsoft was trying to buy its way into the console space with a hefty dose of brute force – here was something unique, something incredible. I don’t think anyone quite expected Halo, and it’s arguable that it single-handedly changed not only Microsoft and Xbox’s fortunes but the entire game industry too.  

Wii Sports (Wii, 2005): the Wii was this strange outlier, a tiny white box that eschewed the grunt and girth of its rivals, and seemingly built around its unique motion controller. Would it work? Wii Sports proved that yes it would, a delightful bundle of games that perfectly showed what the console and controller could do. Immense fun in and of itself, but the Wii’s ability to lower the barrier of entry to non-gamers meant that your dad could thrash your brother at bowling. And that is a thing to cherish forever. 

Tetris (GameBoy, 1989): depending on where you look, Tetris may just be the best-selling game of all time. It’s on everything now, from the Xbox Series X to your watch. But there was a time when “Tetris” meant “GameBoy”; that four-colour greenscreen box of wonder that everybody had but me. It was beyond ubiquitous, and its short-form nature and simplistic styling made it ideal for the portable console, its chirpy and iconic music sounding perfect coming from those tiny speakers. And above all else, of course, Tetris is fantastic, one of the greatest games of all time. It was a perfect marriage of software and hardware. 

The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild (Switch, 2017): so here’s the thing: I like Zelda, but I’ve never fallen in love with it. I didn’t grow up with it, so coming to Ocarina of Time, there were too many old-fashioned trappings in the way; it just didn’t feel as enthralling or as fun to play as, say, Half-Life or Deus Ex. BOTW changed that; the limitations were gone, the world was blown wide open. It no longer felt like an 80s game in three dimensions, it felt new. Better than new – it felt like tomorrow. Despite the Switch being graphically weaker than its contemporaries, BOTW was and is simply gorgeous to look at, but it’s how it plays, how it feels like a vast but real world, how it has its own rules and they make sense instantly. It’s the greatest open world game of all time, and emergent physics sandbox, and yet it’s still unquestionably Zelda, emphatically Nintendo. Okay, it technically came out on the Wii U at the same time, but who the hell played that? This was the game that made you want a Switch.  

Super Mario 64 (N64, 1997): this is often the game people cite as being one of the great revolutionary launch titles, but I must confess its charms were lost to me at first. Taking what was great about Mario and converting it expertly into 3D was a heck of a feat; graphically for the time it certainly impressed in the scale of its worlds, and whilst back then I felt it lacked the detail and granularity of some PC titles, in retrospect it was a perfectly-suited art style, offering smooth textures even when right up close. But it was its precise controls and the open, hub-based nature of its worlds that was revolutionary; many games aped its style, but it took a long time before anything really matched it.  

Hexic HD (Xbox 360, 2005): not every game here has to be some genre-busting graphical powerhouse; they can be simple but quietly revolutionary. Hexic HD is a terrific puzzle game with a simple hook, brilliantly executed, and enough intrigue and nuance to keep you coming back for one more go, to beat your high score, to get to the next tricksy level. But the time and manner of its release, and what that signified, marked it out as something more important. It was the first Xbox Live Arcade title; Microsoft’s curated gallery of smaller, more indie-flavoured games. More than that, it was free, coming pre-installed on all Xbox 360 Pros (the ones with the removable hard drive). It was a taste of what was to come, introducing audiences not only to the idea of playing these kinds of smaller, less intense games on a console, but also the idea of purchasing and downloading them digitally. It was great and ground-breaking in equal measure.  

WipEout (PlayStation, 1995): I kinda missed the PlayStation generation. I was still, more or less, in my PC-centric “consoles are toys” mindset (which I wouldn’t fully shake off till the release of the N64). But I came to appreciate its qualities as a cool, exciting, super-fast futuristic racer. I’m pretty sure it’s not the first 3D hover-car racing game, but it was presented in such a groovy package that it ticket all the boxes, and helped show off just what the PlayStation was capable of in terms of its 3D graphics and CD sound. And, of course, it helped define the console as being a bit more edgy and grown-up than the previous Nintendo and Sega stalwarts. 

Super Mario Bros. (NES, 1988): what can be said about one of the most iconic games of all time? Mario Bros defined not only a console, not only a generation, but arguably an entire artform. Creating what we now know as a platform game, it expanded and surpassed the basic template of Donkey Kong into a roaming adventure, part twitch-gaming reaction test, part puzzle game. I played a lot of copycat games on my Amiga, but even then, as a whiny computer brat, I knew that Mario was better. Even when my cousins got a MegaDrive and Sonic, I knew – deep in my heart – that Mario was better. It's a deep game, an endlessly replayable game, a supremely fair game despite its difficulty. I think it’s hard to overstate just how good, or how influential, Mario was. 

Project Gotham Racing (Xbox, 2001): I tried hard to pick a different platform for every game in this list, but I couldn’t exclude PGR. This may be tied up with my biography a little bit, but my other half and I played this game to death. I never think of myself as a big racer fan, but every once in a while a title comes out that I just really, really get into – Jaguar XJ220 on the Amiga, Midtown Madness on PC, the Forza Horizon series nowadays – and PGR did that in spades. A gorgeous arcade racer, it was a great launch title to show off the sheer grunt of the Xbox; then, as now, the most powerful console on the market. It also offered a terrific four-player split-screen. But its Kudos feature – borrowed from semi-prequel Metropolis Street Racer – offered ways to win outside of sheer racing graft, awarding cool driving. I still love the original, and I kinda wish they’d bring back or reimagine its city-based driving for a future release or Forza spin-off. 

Lumines: Puzzle Fusion (PSP, 2004): okay, so this is a bit of a cheat as I've barely played the original PSP version, but Lumines is just phenomenal; the best moving-blocks-around game since Tetris, and probably the most influential one since then too (for the record, I've played it extensively on multiple other platforms). An excellent spin on a Tetris-a-like, its use of music and colour made it a beautiful, brilliant sensory experience. With Sony entering the handheld market, the PSP needed a USP, something vibrant and cool that suited a portable experience, and Lumines provided it in spades; also its funky visuals and music was a good fit for Sony’s brand.  

Well, that was fun, and a lot harder than I expected. If you’re enjoying a new console this Christmas, then hopefully you’ll have fun with one of the new launch titles too – even if I doubt any (apart from maybe Astro) would trouble a list like this in the future (although I do think The Falconeer looks all kinds of cool). 

[moirai-au]

Not exactly shippy but 12 with Chase and Marv?

Timeline: early in Arc 5: The Orator

@immabethehero @bupine​ @tabbynerdicat @i-maybe-exist @its-ethan-bro @sandinthetardis @honestlyitsjustkenna

He’s running.

He doesn’t remember what he’s running to, or from. But he knows that if he stops, bad things will happen.

The black void echoes with disincarnated whispers, rising and falling like the tide. He can’t pinpoint their origin, and the words don’t make sense to him- he’s not certain they’re even words at all. And when he tries to focus on them, their meaning edging his awareness, so close- it trickles away like sand through his fingers, scattered to the winds.

There’s a pressure, somewhere around his head. The louder the voices, the stronger the pressure grow, bordering on painful before receding.

He hears a clock ticking, and laughter. It’s devoid of mirth, of light, of life. It makes his hairs stand on end. 

Something is wrapped around his wrists and neck, digging painfully into his skin- strings? Someone is screaming. Why are they screaming? It’s too loud, too close, the strings rub and burn and he can feel white-hot spears digging into his shoulder and he wants it to stop, he wants everything to stop stop stop stop stop stop stop stop stop stop stop

s

 t

  o

   p

“Wake up!”

Mars’ eyes flew open, wild and unfocused. He arched off the bed with a choked gasp, his limbs tangled in his bedsheets and flailing around violently.

“Mars! Kid, it’s okay, calm down, you’re safe!”

He stilled, blinking into full awareness as his blind panic died down; David was standing over him, his hand squeezing his shoulder, his face twisted by the type of concern only a father would have. Mars looked around; he was in his room, the light from the corridor the only thing allowing him to discern his surroundings.

He took a deep breath, falling back onto his pillows, then grimaced; his throat was sore and dry as sandpaper, and he was drenched in cold sweat. Again.

“I heard you scream,” Dave said quietly, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Another nightmare?”

Ah. So the screaming had been his. No wonder he felt like he’d swallowed a cactus. “…Yeah.” the mage admitted. “Always the same. The others?”

“Downstairs. I don’t think they heard anything, this house has pretty thick walls. Good thing I was walking by.”

Mars nodded. Good. The last thing he needed right now was more people crowding him.

“Kiddo… what’s happening here? What’s wrong?” Dave asked. The mage rolled his eyes at his paternal tone. “Don’t call me that, you’re not that much older than me. And nothing’s wrong.”

The man stared at him with a deadpan look.

“I’m not lying!” Mars exclaimed indignantly, “That’s the thing! Everything’s been… normal lately. I don’t know why this is happening.”

“Well there has to be something! That’s the third time this week. You can barely eat. You look exhausted. For all I know this has been happening every night.”

The mage stayed silent. That alone told Dave everything he needed to know. “Fuck…” the dad sighed. “This looks bad. And you’re freezing. Are you sure you’re not sick?”

The mage blinked, porting his attention on the feeling of Dave’s hand on his shoulder; it was warm, very warm, almost too much for comfort. So either the snapback-wearing man was sporting a freak fever that was somehow not bothering him, or Mars’ body temperature had dropped abnormally low while he slept.

He growled, rubbing at the dark shadows under his glassy yellow eyes. “I’m not, believe me. Cecil checked already. Twice.”

Dave’s expression softened at the mention of his partner; the whole… thing between those two had come as a surprise to Mars, given how hostile the German had started off towards the recovering alcoholic. But he’d found that he didn’t mind. They seemed good for each other.

“Wanna come downstairs?” Dave asked, “Ollie and Aster are watching the Exorcist. Well,” he chuckled, “Ollie’s watching. Aster keeps complaining about how ‘inaccurate’ it is, so that’s pretty fun. I can make popcorn and hot cocoa.”

Mars hummed; that did sound nice. He could already feel the iciness leaving his body at the prospect. He opened his mouth to acquiesce, but froze up in sudden horror when something brushed against the edge of his mind.

The whispering. It circled around him, taunting him, making his previous panic come back with a vengeance. The cold feeling settled back into his bones, his spine, his fingertips.

This wasn’t right. The voices had never followed him into the waking world before. They weren’t supposed to be real, they weren’t supposed to exist-

It as at this moment that Marvs understood; they weren’t going to stop. The dreams, the voices, the feeling of dread… they weren’t going away. Not this time. They’d just grow stronger and stronger, louder and louder, until the mage eventually broke.

Unless he did something about it. Now.

“Mars?” Dave’s voice rang out, snapping him out of his reverie. “You with me?”

“Yeah,” Mars replied distractedly, “Yeah. You know, I think I’m gonna pass on that one. I’m pretty tired, and I don’t think that weird-ass dream is gonna come back tonight.”

“You’re sure?”

He nodded. “Positive.”

“…Alright.” David relented, getting back on his feet. “Just know that- we’re here for you, yeah? You know you can tell us anything. I’m not letting this go.”

Mars stared ahead. His fists were gripping the bedsheets tightly, his knuckles going white from the strain.

They’d try to stop him. He knew that. He couldn’t let that happen. He wouldn’t let them get roped into this.

He turned to face Dave, and smiled. “I know,” he said, “and I’m grateful for that. For all of you.” He raised his arm to rest it atop Dave’s own, the one still squeezing his shoulder comfortingly. “I’ll tell you everything tomorrow, okay? I promise. I just need a little more time. To figure it out.”

Liar. Liar. Liar.

“…Okay,” the older man relented. “I’m holding you up to that, okay? I trust you.”

A spike of guilt threatened to make Mars cave, but he resisted. You shouldn’t, he thought. “And I trust you,” he said instead, shifting into a more comfortable position and closing his eyes. “G’d’night.”

He heard Dave bid him goodnight and leave his bedroom, gently closing the door behind him. He didn’t move as he listened to the older man’s footsteps going father and father away, until he could no longer hear them.

After about two minutes, he opened his eyes, slitted golden orbs gleaming with determination. He threw his covers off and got up swiftly, rummaging through his closet to throw on some jeans and a warm, clean winter jacket. He then grabbed his mask and fastened it around his head, the familiar feeling alleviating his anxiety somewhat.

He took a deep breath and focused, summoning his magic; his fingers twitched and glowed a vibrant cyan for a moment, his power slowly reaching out to cover the whole mansion.

Once he was satisfied, he breathed out in relief and walked out of his room, no longer worried about any commotion he might cause.

He walked by Cecil’s room; he could hear quiet snores through the half-opened wooden door. He leaned over and took a peek inside: the doctor was out cold, slumped over the stacks of paper sitting on his desk, a half-empty cup of coffee spilling its contents onto the floorboards below him. 

Cecil. The father he’d never had. The one he wished he’d had, deep down. He clenched his jaw, closed the door, and kept going.

As he went down the stairs, he caught a glimpse of Dave sitting in the kitchen; the man was fast asleep, him too slumped over the table, his phone still grasped in his hand. A steaming mug of tea sat next to his head, the sweet smell almost bringing tears to Mars’ eyes. He teared his gaze away and pressed on.

The TV was on, still displaying horrific images from the Exorcist. Aster was curled up in front of it, way too close to the screen in a way that would’ve made Henrik scowl. His clawed, black fingers twitched every so often, a strained expression on his face despite the deep state of unconsciousness he was plunged into.

Mars let out an airy chuckle; who would’ve thought he’s end up rooming with a literal demon from another realm. Weirder yet, befriending him.

…Well, sorta. The fiend was still an unhinged asshole with a moral compass like a russian roulette. But at least they weren’t worried about him stabbing them in their sleep anymore, even without the Deal. So that was good progress.

Finally, his eyes landed on Oliver, sprawled out on the couch in a small, messy heap of limbs; the hero had ditched his iconic jacket and jeans for a pair of grey sweatpants and a red, comfy-looking hoodie, with “Yeah I’m AFAB. Assigned Fucking Awesome, Baby” written on it; a gift from Dave. Ollie loved it.

Mars’ throat seized up as he lingered on the vigilante’s still form, on the slow rise and fall of his chest. Ollie. His first friend. The one he loved like a younger sibling at this point. The first new face he’d seen in so long, the one who’d dragged him out of the bubble he’d locked himself into.

He hoped he’d thought of taking his binder off this time; that airhead always forgot.

As he left the room and approached the door leading to the back of the property, he reached out with his powers and turned the TV off; Cecil had always been adamant about saving power.

He unlocked the door, and the freezing wind hit his face. For a split second, he hesitated.

The whispers doubled in volume, as if sensing his indecision; like a siren’s song, they dug their way into his brain, in his stomach, under his skin, filling him up until he could no longer wait.

“I’m sorry.” he murmured, his slitted eyes squeezing shut in pain and regret. “I’m so sorry.”

He felt sick. He hated himself for doing this. But he needed to. He needed to do this on his own, or he’d go insane. The call was too loud to ignore, the need too strong. He didn’t know where he was going, but somehow, he knew his feet would lead him there.

He took a first step outside; with a dull sense of surprise, he found that he couldn’t feel the cold anymore, not even the freezing snow under his bare feet. In fact, he realized, he couldn’t feel much of anything.

He took a few more steps, slow and slightly unsteady. But they soon became more assured, strides larger, faster, like fueled by a mysterious force that beckoned him far, far from his home, far from his family.

And as his gangly form grew smaller and smaller, heading for the woods behind the property, the back door swung on its hinges and came shut with a quiet click.

For a few more minutes, complete silence reigned in the mansion. Then the heavy blanket of magic keeping everyone asleep disappeared. And five pairs of eyes flew open in perfect synchronicity.

Aster snarled, jumping to his feet and looking around wildly. Ollie sat up on the couch, still looking a bit dazed. “Wha… Aster? What’s happening?”

“Magic!” the demon shrieked, “Fucking-” A string of clicks and growls, his body twitching in agitation as he paced. “Stupid Scars knocked us all out! I can still taste his magic in the air!”

“Mars?” Ollie asked, cocking his head in disbelief. “But-”

He was cut off by a groan coming from behind them. They turned around; Dave was stepping out of the kitchen, rubbing his forehead and wincing in pain. “Shit… I think I banged my head on the table. The hell was that about?”

“David?”

All heads turned towards the hallway; Cecil stepped into the room, looking confused. “I think something’s wrong. I was going over my notes and-”

“You woke up without remembering falling asleep?” Ollie interrupted, “Yeah, us too. Aster says Mars did it.”

Dave blinked, dumbfounded. “That’s- why would he…” he trailed off, something dawning on him. He looked at each person in the room, his heartbeat picking up. “No…”

“Um, guys?” Oliver tried, starting to piece things together. “Where’s Mars?”

“Scheiße” Cecil whispered. He took off suddenly, running to the mage’s room. “No, no, please no-”

“Please tell me he didn’t.” Ollie shook his head in disbelief as the German disappeared down the hall, his face going whiter by the second. “Please tell me this dumbass didn’t pull this shit on us again.”

Dave was frozen, eyes glossed over staring into nothing; the kid had been right in front of him, mere minutes ago. He had known Mars’ words sounded strange. Final. But he’d ignored it. Turned a blind eye to it.

If this was on him… if he’d let him slip away…

Cecil came back not a minute later, looking like he might crumble at the slightest breeze. He looked up, a haunted look in his wide grey eyes. And when he spoke, it felt like a giant hammer fell on them all.

“He’s gone.”

[minijenn]

Message Received Preview 1

So I’m on a surprising roll with this chapter. Mostly cause its an adaptation and those are easy as fuck to write. But don’t be deceived there is gonna be a lot of more original stuff in this chapter but that’s more for... later on it. For now have some deceptive cute times that are gonna be torn to shreds by the time this chapter is through. Enjoy!

***

“Ahem…” Peridot huffed as she stood over the kids. Her hands were positioned on her hips, a power drill clenched tightly in her grip from the work she was clearly intent on continuing.

“Oh, hi, Peridot!” Steven greeted her blithely.

“Welp, I knew this was too good to be true,” Dipper sighed sardonically as he sat up a bit. “What do you want, Peridot?”

“I want to know why we stopped working on the drill!” the green Gem scowled impatiently, nodding over to the Gems still watching the sunset several feet away. “Why are they just sitting there looking at nothing!?”

“Aw, Peri, we’re all just taking a nice little break,” Mabel grinned brightly.

“…A what?”

“We’ve all been working hard and we deserve to take it easy for a bit,” Steven explained. “I mean, just look at that view. It’s beautiful!”’

“It’s going to be blown to oblivion by the Cluster if we don’t get back to work!” Peridot countered crossly.

“Yeesh, tell us something we don’t know for a change,” Dipper remarked with something of a wry, knowing smirk.

“Working hard is important,” Steven added, still smiling calmly. “But feeling good is important too!”

“Yep,” Mabel soundly agreed. “Looks like you still need to learn about one more super important Earth concept, Peri. It’s called… ‘treat yo self’!”

“What are you talking about?!” Peridot fussed, thoroughly annoyed as she accidentally turned the power drill on.

“Hey!” Steven perked up upon hearing the buzzing drill. “What is that, a C?” The young Gem copied the noise on his ukulele, strumming a simple C chord that did, in fact, mimic the buzzing of the drill itself.  

“The drill?” Peridot raised a confused eyebrow, looking to the tool in her hand.

“Yeah!” Steven nodded, rising to his feet as Peridot pressed the drill up to an even faster speed. Or rather, an even higher note. “Oh my gosh! Now its music!”

“Whoa! It sorta is!” Mabel gasped, amazed.

“Only Steven could hear music in something like a power drill,” Dipper chuckled, amused.

“‘Music’?” Peridot asked. “What’s that?”

“Whaaaaa?! You don’t know what music is?!” Mabel exclaimed, aptly baffled. “Oh, girl, you are missing out!”

“Look, its like this,” Steven positioned his ukulele before strumming out a simple scale and singing along. “Do, re, mi, fa, so, la, ti, do!”

“Do, mi, so, do…?” Peridot repeated, clearly not following.

“Isn’t it pretty?” the young Gem sang, still singing along.

“That’s exceedingly simple,” the green Gem snarked, though she still mused on the beguiling process all the same. “Do, mi, so, it…”

“We’re making music.”

“What’s the point?” Peridot said, crossing her arms.

“The point, is… its fun!” Mabel chimed in, singing a bright note of her own in tune with Steven’s strumming.

“But why even bother?” the green Gem shook her head. “You’re not even making anything!”

“Well, if it isn’t anything, then why does it sound so good?” Steven asked with a good-natured shrug.

“I suppose its just interest, do, mi, so, do,” Peridot theorized as the young Gem kept his lighthearted tune going. “Devoid of substance or purpose, a hypothetical pattern… do, mi, so, ti… For the satisfaction of bringing it to completion!”

“…Sure,” Steven agreed, even if he didn’t really know what she was talking about.

“Should we tell her music isn’t usually that deep?” Dipper asked Mabel, aside.

“Eh, let her have her sciencey fun,” Mabel shrugged.

“Do, mi, so, it… Interest without meaning?” Peridot posed, surprised by such an odd train of thought. One that largely went against everything she had ever known back on Homeworld, much like everything else on Earth as a whole. “Solutions without problems…?”

“And then you just add words,” Steven said, gearing up for a proper song. “Here’s what I’ve been working on. Life and death and love and birth and peace and war on the planet Earth.” The melody was light and bouncy, carrying a message of the immense complexities and contradictions of the planet it was about, a theme that was not lost on Mabel, Dipper, or even Peridot as they all listened intently. “Is there anything that’s worth more than peace and love on the planet Earth, oh-whoooa, come on and sing it with me!”

“Sing?” Peridot repeated, still completely lost.

“The words relate to the key!”

“Key?!” the green Gem asked, even more baffled as she held a small key she had found in the barn up.

“If it’s a pattern, if it’s a pattern, than just repeat after me,” Steven encouraged, nodding over to the twins in the hopes that they’d do the same. Mabel was quick to jump on the offer first as she joined the young Gem in a brief duet. “Life and death and love and birth-”

“L-Life and death and love and birth,” Peridot attempted, albeit a bit shakily. After all, she had never really sung before, and until now, she had never had a reason to.

“C’mon, bro-bro, join in!” Mabel urged her brother in an excitable whisper. “Our plan is working!”

“First of all, you guys didn’t start this whole music thing off with any sort of ‘plan’,” Dipper retorted before finally breaking down into a small, if not somewhat flustered smile. “B-but, fine, just this once.”

“Now, you sing mi, fa, mi, mi, fa, mi, ti, la!” Steven instructed Peridot, who followed along easy enough as all four of them finished the chorus on a high, harmonious note.

“And peace and war on the planet Earth!”

“Ahhh! That sounded so good!” Mabel cheered happily. “Looks like its time to bring Love Patrol Alpha outta retirement with its brand new member, Peri!”

“I have no idea what that’s supposed to mean,” Peridot remarked dryly. “But what I do know is that was so easy,” she finished, as if suspicious by that fact.

“Yeah, but that’s what’s so fun about it!” Steven nodded, still strumming. “You should write something—you should write a song!”

“About what?”

“Whatever you’re thinking!”

[cloverlyanxious]

Schrodinger’s House: Chapter 1

Summary: All Dee wanted was to move out of his brother's apartment and find a place of his own. Things are rarely that simple. 

Pairing: None

Warnings: Sympathetic Deceit, I think that’s it but im willing to add more if you spot any.

Notes:  Welcome to the first installment of my Monster!AU  (that still needs a series name;;; ), which i’m dedicating to my buddy @sanderstribute. I literally couldn’t do it without em!

Dee was never one to believe that life was easy. Solutions to problems don’t conveniently drop into your lap, and answer don’t just magically pop out of thin air. You had to work hard for what you wanted, and put effort into solving your issues.

Which was easier said than done when you found yourself constantly evicted due to circumstances that were out of your control but, well, what can you do. Such is the curse of the gift of sight, Dee thought to himself as he clutched the iron nail in his pocket out of habit.

In all honesty, he never expected to come across something that would help him move out of his brother’s apartment when, out of nowhere, he was called upon to settle a dispute between some minor fae in the park nearby. He’d been more concerned about coming out of the meeting unscathed, all things considered (while the small fairies that lived in the flower bushes were more than a little enamoured with him, the Lesidhe that lay claim to that particular patch of woods was less than fond of humans as a whole…). That being said, his mind was far from the prospect of apartment hunting when something caught his eye, making him stop in the middle of the sidewalk.

The house exuded a quiet discomfort from its spot on the street, almost as if mocking the surrounding houses with its very existence. While the neighbouring homes were bright in color and encompassed by gardens of varying sizes, this one sat alone in a yard devoid of all life, plants seemingly withered and dead with no animals in sight. The house itself seemed to be saturated in shadows, though there were no trees or buildings around it capable of creating such a dark overcast. It almost looked like the very wood of the house itself was drenched in darkness, though you could faintly make out the muted blue of the original paint. The windows facing the street seemed to be caked with dust as nothing discernable could be seen of the inside, and the porch looked to be in desperate need of repairs. All in all, it was not a very pleasant house to look at, practically begging for people to ignore it and walk away.

Which is exactly what Dee would have done, had he not seen that the front door was wide open.

He eyed the place suspiciously, looking for any signs of trouble. As much as he’d like to believe that the neighbourhood was as peaceful as it seemed to appear, he wasn’t an idiot.

Well. As much of an idiot as his brother would lead you to believe.

Peering at the towering structure before him, he wondered what could possibly have led to it falling into such a state. Areas like this were sure to have a Home-Owners Association attached to them, and he knew from experience what a group of stuck up elitist troublemakers they could be (and that was putting it politely). He found it hard to believe that no one had done anything about the obvious eyesore this house create to its surroundings.

Before he realised he had even taken a step forward, Dee found himself making his way along the short stone path that lead to the front door. Stopping short of the possibly rotten porch step, he took a moment to glare down at his traitorous feet before raising his gaze to the darkness that lingered beyond the open doorway. This was ridiculous. A terrible idea, really. Going inside is exactly what the dim-witted protagonist of a horror movie would do before meeting a drawn out, torturous death. Clearly he was smarter than that.

He stepped up onto the porch.

Clearly not.

Resisting the urge to groan at his own stupidity, he finally gave up any semblance of doing the smart thing and warily entered the house. Silence greeted him like a old blanket; smothering as it wrapped around him and leaving his skin to itch. He immediately noticed that the interior was just as dark as the outside, little to no light coming into the rooms despite the tattered curtains by the windows being open and full of holes. The room he stood in, which he guessed was the living room judging from how large it was, was empty of any furniture or decorations.

Dee stepped onto the wood floors lightly, testing to see if they were sturdy and hopefully not rotten through. When the boards stayed firm and intact, he cautiously continued forward. He could feel the hair on his arms raise up as the weight of unseen eyes settled over him, but a quick look around proved that there was nothing to support his feeling of being watched. Overall it was unsettling, and Dee considered getting the heck out of there until he noticed what looked to be a fallen picture frame resting near the base of the stairs.

Walking over slowly, he leaned down and picked it up. He was surprised to see a photograph within the frame, colors almost leached out giving it a black and white appearance. Before his eyes was the house, back in what he assumed was its glory days, proudly seated in the background. A small man stood in front of it, pointed face looking forward but small eyes darted off to the side, shoulders almost hunched around his ears. Dee found himself comparing the man to a rat, and could easily imagine him scurrying from room to room in his too big shirt and stained pants. Looking over it again, he squinted when he realized that there appeared to be someone else in the photograph, partially visible from one of the upstairs windows. Frowning, he leaned his face closer to the frame. Maybe his eyes were just playing tricks on him…?

Suddenly, the theme song to Steven Universe cut through the silence, startling Dee bad enough that he dropped the frame. He winced at the sound of breaking glass, but chose to side-step the mess he’d made as he pulled his phone from his pocket. “Whatever it is, I didn’t do it,” he answered automatically.

“If you say so,” the voice on the other end laughed out. “Though part of me is gonna be wondering what the heck you’ve been up to to need that response.”

Dee rolled his eyes. “That’s for me to know and you to never find out,” he drawled. “Now, what can I do for you, brother of mine?”

“What, can’t I just want to talk?”

“Yes, though from past experience calls like these usually mean you’ve forgotten to pick up something while you were out.”

Thomas was silent for a moment, and Dee could see him slumping his shoulders in his mind’s eye. “Yeah, okay you got me. I totally forgot to grab the milk and I really really need it if i wanna get this baking done tonight. Could you swing by the store on your way back? If it’s not too much trouble?”

“Well my schedule seems to be pretty filled for the moment, but I guess I can squeeze you in between defacing public property and reclaiming dominance of McKinnley Park,” Dee said leisurely as he made his way back to the front of the house.

“How generous of you,” Thomas replied dryly, before adding quickly, “Please don’t actually deface anything, please, my muffins will burn if i have to break you out of jail.”

“You ruin all my fun,” Dee groaned, stopping at the front door.

“That’s my job, bro.”

“If you insist.” Casting a quick glance to the darkened room behind him, Dee leaned against the door frame, feeling the dry wood press into his back. Without taking his eyes off the shadows, he hummed into the phone. “I’ll be back soon, then. I have to make a quick stop at the library before returning home.”

“Oh yeah, no problem! Just remember to shoot me a text when you start making your way back please!”

“Of course.” Saying a quick goodbye, he slipped his phone back into his pocket before turning to face the interior of the house once more. Gripping the edge of the door tightly with one hand, he gave another glare into the nothing, almost as if willing whatever was hiding inside to show itself. After a moment of nothing changing, Dee sighed to himself before walking backwards, all while pulling the door in front of him until it closed shut with a resounding click.

Shaking his head again, he finally turned his back on the house and made his way to the sidewalk. There was really no reason for him to be this invested in an decrepit abandoned house that probably had as many long forgotten ghosts as it did spiders in it. Especially when the abandoned bit suggested that there were probably a plethora of reasons as to why it would be a bad idea to move in. Even if something that terrible looking would probably not be that expensive to rent. Not to mention the building itself seemed to only need minor repairs and was, surprisingly, in not too bad of a condition as what he expected going in…..

“This entire day has been a bad idea, “ he groaned, rubbing at his temples to alleviate the headache he was giving himself from thinking such stupid, possibly dangerous, idiotic-

“Y’know, Sonny, all talking to yourself’s gonna do is make people think you’re as crazy as you actually are,” a voice rang out from behind a rosebush, almost succeeding in making the young man jump completely out of his skin.

Dee grimaced before peering behind an exceptionally fat rose to see a little old lady kneeling in the fresh dirt of the flower bed, gloved hands hard at work. “Duly noted,” he grumbled, shoving his hands into his pockets before hesitating. “Have you lived here long?”

“Been here as long as my house has been standing, boy-o,” she replied cheerfully, wiping some sweat off of her forehead with one of her arms. “Couldn’t pay me to move away, worked too hard on these plants to give up on em now,”

“Right…” Gesturing to the dark house next to him, he added, “Then I’m sure you’d know all about the property next to you, yes? Could you tell me about the previous owners? Why they left, how long they’ve been gone..?”

The old lady looked up to where he was pointing, face scrunched up in a frown. Her eyes, small as they were, seemed to have trouble locating the building in question. “Oh… huh, y’know I’m not actually sure…?” She said slowly, an almost blank expression overcoming her features. “Kinda always forget that place is there… kinda dreary, y’know? Haven’t seen anyone in years, probably no one ever lived there, wouldn’t surprise me… i think…”

Looking back to the gardening tools in her hands, she blinked, before smiling suddenly up at him. “You looking to live around here, boy-o? Ain’t no houses for sale, but sure wouldn’t mind seeing a handsome fella like you around the block!”

Dumbfounded, Dee shook his head as he backed away slowly. “Not any time soon,” he said in parting, watching as the lady returned happily to her flowers without a second glance to the dark property next to her. Strange, Dee thought to himself. Positively strange.

The boy was certainly peculiar, there was no denying it. To have made it into his domain at all was a feat in and of itself. To do so with little to no power of his own? Practically unheard of. And yet there he had been, like a fish swimming through still water, disturbing the silt and the muck in his wake. Unaware of what lurked beneath the surface. No idea of the predator lusting for the taste of fresh prey…

It was foolish to entertain the thought of life making its way back into the house. Humans were silly, foolish things. Yet, watching the boy walk away, the stale air almost tasted of something long forgotten. A zest of intrigue. Possibly excitement. Would he forget having ever stepped foot so close to danger? Or would he be back, bringing with him that sweet gift of unpredictability so often missed?

As the boy disappeared from view, so did the shadow that lurked in the top floor window, blending back into the darkness within. All there was to do now was wait.

And waiting was something He has long since perfected.