#my bad if any of this is incorrect

[bleetusmcyeetus]

Okay but hear me out, what if Zavala made baseball an official thing for Guardians to do to get their energy out when they don’t wanna fight but are super hyper. And like he just makes three Hunter, Warlock, and Titan teams and lets the Guardians play around and see if they like it.

And like the Guardians get really into it and create different teams for different important figures (Shaxx, Saint, Ikora, Ghost, etc.) and it becomes really popular and everyone is doing it but THEN a group of edgy Guardians decide to create a Witness team and everyone is like “Omg what no that’s the literal enemy you can’t do that” but they’re just like “Fuck you we can do whatever we want” and so a different group makes a Traveler team and they have a match and it turns into this big thing.

And they make a whole bunch of merch for the different sides and suddenly you’ll walk around and see some Hunter wearing a Witness jersey glaring at a Titan with a Traveler jersey and then more and more Darkness teams start being formed and pretty soon all the news is just stuff along the lines of ��TEAM ULDREN VS TEAM CAYDE RESULTS: ‘WE LOST SO BAD IT FELT LIKE WE DIED’” and it’s starting to turn into an actual issue and Zavala is like “OK you all need to CHILL the FUCK down this is NOT what I was trying to do holy FUCK–“ and he disbands all the teams and makes baseball a Not Good Thing™ to talk about or participate in.

And all the Guardians are like “What the hell man what was that for” and they start to go to different planets and have secret matches there and Zavala doesn’t know about any of this and it’s literally just underground baseball matches on everywhere but Earth.

Anyway thats my little brain rot idea

[seventh-district]

Making Incorrect H:SR Quotes Until I Run Out of (hopefully) Original Ideas - Pt. 5 - I Finally Finished the 2.2 Main Quest Edition

[Pt. 1] [Pt. 2] [Pt. 3] [Pt. 4] [Pt. 6]

[starry-bi-sky]

Blood Blossom Au: Baby's First Commissioner Meeting :)

TL:DR This Post: Danny (orphan) gets poisoned with blood blossom extract by Vlad. He runs away from him and ends up under the care of one Pre-Robin Battinson Batman! Starry is loudly pushing her batdad agenda.

(Also known as "Late At Night, When The Nightingale Sings" on my ao3!)

This was a fun rough idea I've been sitting on for weeks, thinking about how Commissioner Gordon and Nightingale's first meeting might go.

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

Commissioner Gordon likes to think that he's adjusting to the new normal of Gotham very well, -- the new normal being grown men running around dressed like bats, in military-grade strength body armor, committing acts of vigilantism, -- and slowly, little by little, he was no longer being surprised when this new normal pops up out of the shadows like the world's most terrifying daisy. His shaving lifespan thanks him for it.

....

The kid is a surprise though.

Granted, he seemed to be a surprise to the Bat too.

There's been a string of murders lately, -- which, in Gotham, is kind of like saying there's been another storm during monsoon season. And there's just been another; in some dilapidated building down in south Gotham, with the broken, boarded-up windows and mildew-crawling walls to match. The victim is a man in his thirties, multiple gunshot wounds to the chest, left in the center of the room for the blood to pool out around him.

The place is already secured when he arrives, the building swarmed with officers and the forensic detectives. The Bat emerges shortly after he does -- or, he might've been here the whole time, hiding someplace dark and shadowy. For his own sanity, Gordon doesn't think about it too hard.

The kid is a surprise, and he appears like a bolt of lightning.

He shows up in the middle of a conversation Gordon is having with the Bat.

A whistle, sharp and loud, slicing through the air, meant for open air rather than a confined space. Gordon's ears pierce and protest the sound, and the solemn, murmured chatter floating through the room abruptly cuts off like the swing of a gavel. As he turns towards the sound -- as they all do -- he swears, up and down, that he sees Batman's shoulders jump, just slightly.

At the source, perched on the window, is a boy. A boy in a gray-blue scarf and an oversized black hoodie, one that hangs off his frame and has ace bandages wrapped around the wrists in some attempt to cinch the sleeves. The hood is up, big like the rest of it, and threatens to swallow the upper half of the boy's face whole in the fabric. What upper half Gordon can see, is smeared with some kind of opaque, black face paint. He's holding onto the side of the frame with one hand, on his hip is a grappling hook. A familiar grappling hook.

Gordon has multiple questions, and his officers tense up.

Martinez puffs up, brows furrowing as his face shapes into a frown. Shoulders rolling back. "You can't be here, kid--"

The reaction is immediate, like a spark to gunpowder, the boy yanks his fingers from his mouth and his mouth twists into a scowl. Head snapping over to Officer Martinez, his hood manages to stay on but Gordon swears that as he bares his teeth, the glint makes them look sharper than they should be. His voice is rasp and quiet and harsh; snappish in its hissing; "Put a fuckin sock in it, Martinez. I'm not stayin."

Martinez reels back, and the boy immediately veers his attention off him. Like a switch, his demeanor drops. Despite half his face being covered, his mouth twists into a cringing, apologetic smile. Slanted and off-beat, embarrassed. It'd be disarming if this wasn't Gotham, and if he didn't just hiss at Martinez like he was about to bite his head off.

"Sorry." He whispers, voice deceptively polite and softer now. Gordon has to strain his ears to hear him. "I was looking for him."

He points his finger towards-- Gordon? No, Gordon follows the direction, and finds himself looking at -- the Bat.

The Bat, who always looks stiff as a pole, now looks even stiffer. Somehow. Well, the explains the grappling hook attached to the boy's waist.

"What are you doing here?" The Bat says, gruff and unable to completely smother the stumble of surprise in his tone.

The boy still holds a sheepish smile, and slips off the window ledge. His feet hit the creaky boards with a near-silent thud, the Batman finds his feet and rapidly begins crossing the room.

Gordon notes the slight tremble in the boy's legs as he straightens. He adjusts his scarf, which droops close to his knees now that he's standing, and slings a backpack -- how long has had that? -- off his shoulders. When the Bat reaches his side, he does as he always does, and looms over the boy like a spectre. A threatening mass of shadows cloaked in all-consuming black. Standing next to him, the boy looks teeny in comparison.

The Bat is a man who terrifies even the most hardened criminals, Gordon has seen grown men shiver in fear at the mention of his name. And yet when the boy looks up at him, he doesn't even flinch.

Instead, his sheepish smile melts away like ice under the sun, holding only traces of his previous embarrassment. It remains as a shadow on his face, a small upturn at the corners of his mouth. The boy pushes his hood back just enough to reveal glinting, ice-flint eyes surrounded in tar-black face paint. He holds the backpack up with one arm. "You forgot this."

[here-comes-the-moose]

*looking at old photos of Omega*

Crosshair: Ha, you look like you bite people in this one.

Hunter: Cross, you bit people.

[a-scary-lack-of-common-sense]

HI i’m personally a crutch user and i love scout with crutches but consider

pyro or engie crutch user(s)

im a big enjoyer of my comfort characters being just like me i hope this is ok 👍

Pyro or Engie crutch users? ❌️

Pyro AND Engie crutch users ✅️

Hopefully these cane personalisations don't look too weird?? I have no idea where I was going with Pyro tbh, I think I was trying to make it a mini lighter but kinda failed miserably :')

Edit: FUCK, YOU SAID CRUTCH NOT CANE I'M SO SORRY I GOT IT MIXED UP

[teefscrubz]

I can't help but think about how Merlin's magic would have been such an alluring thing to Arthur, had he been given the chance (and time) to fully appreciate it. The power dripping from Merlin's voice, the way it lowers an octave as the old English words spill from his lips like the language had been etched into his mind long before he even begun practicing. The way the magic thrums through Arthur, emanating off of Merlin in shock waves as if the power is too much to be contained in the lanky manservant all at once, overspilling like an overly indulged well.

None of us are new to the idea of Arthur having a magic kink.

But nobody ever talks about how Arthur must feel when he witnesses Merlin—No, Emrys— when he uses his dragonlord powers. Like, imagine! The possibilities! Merlin's voice does more than deepen, his voice is rough and powerful and demanding and ohmygodsmerlinisamazing.

Just imagine.

Merlin: OH, DRAKON—!

Arthur: Yes sire. Here sire. On my knees sire. Whatever you ask, sire. Emrys, sire. I'm a penDRAGON, you see. At your service, sire.

[brainrot-jikan]

im not the biggest alhaitham/kaveh shipper (because im a rare pair ho) but it seems to me that in alhaitham/kaveh getting-together fics tend to be... unequal.

the beautiful thing about alhaitham and kaveh is that they're both equally right and equally wrong and equally dicks about it. but the writers for alhaitham/kaveh much more frequently seem to give alhaitham the burden change (the burden of the character flaw) instead of kaveh.

in any good character arc, the main character has a fatal flaw or misconception, and by the end of that arc they have addressed that flaw in some definitive way. scrooge was a scrooge and learned that being that way was detrimental; merlin from finding nemo was overprotective to a fault and had to learn that he couldn't (and shouldn't) control everything and to let go; the wolf from little red riding hood learns that you should stop while you're ahead.

stories centering around romance tend to lean heavily on character arcs, which makes sense. and since romance generally requires two individuals to be vulnerable and open and emotional with each other, it makes double sense that alhaitham/kaveh authors zoom straight into alhaitham's lack of emotional vulnerability.

this bothers me.

in society, individuals are expected to experience and present emotions in a specific way. if someone dies, you cry. if someone smiles at you, you smile back. if you're at a party, you're supposed to be having fun. if you don't do these things, you're seen as impolite at best and a inhuman freak at worst. when these behaviors are frequent it's often viewed as emotional immaturity, or a lack of ability to feel at all. the inability or lack of willingness to conform to societies emotional expectations of you is seen as a flaw and a reason for exclusion.

alhaitham is canonically disliked and avoided for being the way he is. he prefers it this way, but that doesn't mean the people perpetuating this avoidance are in the right. they are the societal pressure to conform that alhaitham blows off. alhaitham could be the way he is for a lot of reasons: avoidant attachment style, trauma, following someone else's example (eg. his grandmother), or just his base personality. it doesn't MATTER. he is the way he is. kaveh having to accept that should be part of the story.

putting the burden of the fatal flaw on alhaitham, making the way alhaitham treats kaveh and the people around him the problem, feels invalidating. it implies heavily that alhaitham's way of interfacing with the world, alhaitham's very SELF, is incorrect. my suggestion is to flip a larger portion of that burden onto kaveh. kaveh 👏 character 👏 arcs 👏

some examples/recommendations:

- make kaveh project his insecurities onto other people but especially onto alhaitham; he's overly reliant on other people for his own self worth, and he perceives alhaitham's lack of positive feedback as a direct reflection of how alhaitham feels about him. but learns along the way that alhaitham doesn't hate him, kaveh's actual struggle is with hating himself and being unable to his own self as worthy of love. maybe throw in how you are responsible for your own recovery, other people can help but you can't rely on them to carry you through self actualization.

- or, kaveh tries to make alhaitham behave more like a "normal" person, to be more pleasant and emotive and forthcoming, and then realizes he's in the wrong for trying to make alhaitham into something he's not, possibly for all the wrong reasons (not because he likes alhaitham better like that, but bc society says that's healthier and a better/more conforming way to be)

- or you could go ahead make alhaitham's issues the main problem but they're too complicated to overcome in a short period of time, so kaveh has to accept alhaitham is doing his best in his own way and not push for unrealistic and unhealthy changes. he could alter his own behavior to give alhaitham space and time and a safe place to land.

that got sappy so it's past time for me to dip out. go forth and ship things; but maybe consider letting alhaitham be a rude stone-faced bastard if he wants to be.

[goldenamaranthe-blog]

Kid Vaggie: Hazbin Hotel

Charlie: (wakes up with a loud yawn and a stretch) Oh... shit.... how long was I out? ...Wait.... (feels her face and gasps) I'm an adult again! Vaggie! Good news-

Vaggie: (in child form, sleeping, drowning in her nightgown, hair is short like when she was an exorcist, and completely wrapped up in the fetal position with her little wings trying to cocoon her)

Charlie: (arrow through the heart) Awwwwww!

Vaggie: (wiggles, yawns, and snuggles deeper into her feathers with a peaceful hum)

Wings: (rustle and puff out their feathers)

Charlie: (plastering her hands over her mouth to keep herself quiet) Don't do it Charlie. Don't nom her. Don't om-nom her. Don't pick her up and try to bring her into yourself. Resist the adorable temptation.

[sanshinexx]

Fun times at the family game night 🥰

[More incorrect quotes with the gang here, now as a masterlist i just made because why not]

[stop-breaking-my-heart-dragonage]

I'm not ready to shut up about Aveline and Carver--so, when you go see Aveline in Act 1, you can catch up with her a little bit and that's where this conversation can happen:

Aveline: "It's just one more change, though. The real end for me was Ostagar. What about you, Carver? You were there. Do you feel something similar?" Carver: No. Aveline: All right, then. Bit of a tit, your brother.

I wanted to see what she would say if Carver isn't in the party. Instead, she says this:

Aveline: Carver was there. I imagine he feels something similar. If he allows it.

......well, at least she didn't call him a tit?

[remusbuzzcutt]

the autistic regulus hc means so much to me. he wouldn’t have autism in the stereotypical suppressed emotions, overstimulation way (not that there’s anything wrong with that, me too), but in a way that means he feels in a way that is almost (!!) too much.

he prefers to listen to other people talk and doesn’t feel the need to interrupt. and the eye contact!! ugh. he’d stare into your soul. most people assume that all autistic people can’t hold eye contact, but most of them actually have a staring problem. ↤ regulus is the latter. he has no issues putting himself in other peoples’ shoes and having empathy & compassion. the only exception would probably be for muggle borns or halfbloods, who he considered beneath him. he just didn’t care to have empathy for them.

he wouldn’t necessarily understand his feelings, but he didn’t bottle them up. he wasn’t vocal about them either. he would just shut out the world and think, let himself feel without anything to overwhelm or confuse him further.

[scarapanna]

To be honest, I ponder about Vanilla's prospects for redemption. Presently, the outlook appears bleak as Shadow Milk gradually recovers while mentally tormenting PV. It's a bit uncertain for me whether this coexistence can endure indefinitely. Now the situation to me looks like there is absolutely no hope that it will be possible to get rid of SM. Is Vanilla simply prolonging the inevitable or is there a glimmer of hope for eventual freedom?

Ooh I adore this question!!

In terms of redemption, Pure Vanilla has gotten the chance to try and get to know more about his counterpart, but he doubts it would be possible as Shadow Milk's too far gone in terms of corruption. And certainly is not letting go of his ideals.

The situation is pretty bad but hope is there, the deal has some perks outside of the loss of freedom, mostly revolving on Shadow Milk and Pure Vanilla not being able to damage eachother.

The beast needed a disguise to keep up appearences, while the other wanted to have the possibility of going outside of the void he'd otherwise be confined to. Thus, Shadow Milk can't break or injure Pure Vanilla..at least not until his plan succeeds. This due to injuries reflecting on himself as well, and any unusual change in the ancient would signal that something is going on to anyone that knows him well.

What Vanilla had originally in mind was protecting others even if he was going to take a burden, so he's pretty much stalling while trying to contact the others without notice.

There is still hope, but finding a way to get Shadow Milk out that doesn't involve killing/sealing away the other too is going to be difficult.

[pyrosomatic-metamorphosis]

apocalypse au. cannibalism. corpses. Offscreen loss of loved ones

-

“Some leather armour,” Bad notes, tugging curiously at the straps of the corpse’s armour. “Euagh, almost broken, though.” The armour gets tossed to the side. “A granola bar? Okay, we’ll take that.”

Cellbit twitches at that. He wants to ask, “Do we have to?” but there’s several reasons why he doesn’t. Protesting a backup food supply is never a good idea, for one. It’s not worth it to risk starvation just because he’s worried that the backup food supply will become their primary. He tightens his hold on the bloody sword and insists again. It’s not worth it. Instead, he says, voice rasping, “There’s too many. It’s all going to rot.”

“You think so?” Bad looks up at him, then runs a critical eye over the little encampment. Ten bodies, some larger, but all fat deposits slimmed by lasting hunger. Bad licks at the blood left on his hand from looting the corpse, considering their haul thoughtfully. “I don’t think things rot that fast, Cellbit.”

He twitches again when Bad says his name. It wasn’t an admonishment- it was barely even an opinion Cellbit should validate, knowing how long it takes Bad to consider something rotten -but there is something yearning and grieving and desperate slinking between the muscle fibers of his heart that squirms to hear that disagreement. He’s shaking. He hasn’t stopped shaking. He wants to bite the edge of his sword hard enough that his teeth will crack into sharpened splinters. He wouldn’t need the sword, then. “I don’t- we should cook it,” he says. “Some.”

Bad snaps his fingers triumphantly, as though he’d remembered something. “Pre-digestion!” he exclaims so loudly that Cellbit flinches. No birds fly away- they’ve already been scared off. “Oh! You want to save some for later? Yeah, sure, we can do that. But we should eat what doesn’t fit in the car.” Cellbit doesn’t know how to explain that he can’t eat as much as much as Bad. Not even cooked. It fills him with- it’s not envy but it isn’t not envy, either. Some dissatisfaction.

Back in the— when he was small Cellbit had always assumed that it was Bad’s size that lead him to take the larger portion of their meals. It made sense, and he always got his fill so he was happy with it. Then, when he was grown, it was frustrating. Bad could eat an entire corpse in one sitting; Cell couldn’t even get through an entire leg. He’d realized then, gnawing at bone and just waiting to be done, that Bad couldn’t have possibly eaten an entire corpse. It was childish dreams made memory, morphed by the horror and the trauma and the things he didn’t think about. And now they’ve met up again, and these are their first corpses but Cellbit knows that despite their looting Bad’s share of the resources are always depleted, even when they come across a feast and- The clever part of him is wondering how much he’s really misremembered after all.

Bad seems oblivious to Cellbit’s thoughts. “We can smoke some of this and it’ll last you a bit longer,” he suggests thoughtfully, starting to dig through the corpse’s clothes again. “It might take us some extra time, but this place is safe enough that they set up camp, and we don’t know when we’ll get the chance again. Good idea. Do you want to carve the meat or set up the smoker?”

The thing in Cellbit’s heart writhes almost giddily at the praise. He thinks that he hates it. He misses when he could fool himself into thinking he deserved it. “The meat,” rasps its way out of his throat, proving him right.

Bad lights up. Cellbit can immediately tell that he’s up to something. “In that case- I have something for you that might make it… a little bit easier.”

“What is it?”

“Close your eyes!” The bleeding part of him wails at the thought of the vulnerability, but this is Bad. He’s only alive because of him. Fitting to die because of him, too. Cellbit closes his eyes and continues to shake. The back of his teeth are dry. There’s the sound of rustling as Bad does whatever, and then a triumphant, “Ta-da~!” Cellbit gratefully takes this as his cue to open his eyes again.

Badboyhalo is holding a knife.

Badboyhalo is holding a kitchen knife. Thumb and fingers pinching either side of the blade, handle out, an offering. It’s clean, except where Bad’s hands have stained it red.

Cellbit had been calm, before, the way you are when you’re doing what you were made for. Then he had been satisfied, and excited, and then jittery and bad and happy and satisfied and dreadful. Longing and hatred and benediction and fulfillment. The sight of the knife fades all of that out. When he grabs it, those feelings turn to static. Still there, still hunting him, but forced to back away in the face of its armed prey. The world smooths out a little and hurts a bit less.

Badboyhalo has given him a knife.

“Bad-“ he says, and doesn’t choke up about it.

Bad smiles at him. Bad beams at him. “I was waiting for a good time to give it to you. I know you’ve got your sword, but I remember you telling me that knives are your favourite. Is that still true?”

Overwhelmed, Cellbit nods a little. “Thank- thank you. Obrigado, Bad.”

“De nada!” Bad chirps, cheerful as anything. He pats Cellbit on the shoulder, gently, as his tone shifts. “The sky is still blue, Cellbit. Remember that.”

He wanders away before Cellbit can bring himself to mutter, “Mas às vezes está nublado.” But it’s just Cellbit now, and his knife, and the bodies, and no one living can hear him.

He’s already dropped the sword, he realizes abruptly, clinging to his knife with both hands. He needs to pick it up and clean it before the blood coagulates. There is meat in front of him, still warm and waiting to be processed. Still, he manages to pick up the sword and wipe it in the vicinity of cleanliness on the body’s clothes, his other hand still clinging to his knife. He cuts the clothes, and drops the sword to the side.

When the knife cuts flesh, he starts to grin again. The world turns into a loving red, and he gets to work.

-

Bad feels bad.

He doesn’t dwell on it. Guilt or grief- they both started with g. It’s probably even better, even, feeling guiltier than griefier! Take away the question of accountability entirely, hold control, do what he has to do. And he has to do this.

The log in Bad’s hands cracks. He giggles at it, then takes several quick breaths as tears rapidly pool in his eyes. He doesn’t wipe them, just carefully lays the log down into his makeshift fireplace.

Bad doesn’t like hurting his friends. It’s like a bad prank that leaves lasting damage; it leaves a bad taste in his mouth. But it’s not really all that bad, all things considered. Bad isn’t hurting him or putting him in more danger. If anything, Cellbit is safer with him. They’ve done this before- anything Cellbit can’t eat, Bad can, and they know Cellbit can eat Bad. It’s better. It’s what needs to be done.

There’s a loud lowing in the distance. Bad stills as he listens to it. Out of the corner of his eye, he notices Cellbit still carving. They found someone else tonight. Bad feels some tension leak from between his shoulderblades. They’ll be fed and full, and slow in the morning. Cellbit and Bad will have more than enough time to get packed up after a rest.

Cellbit has someone left. Bad is giving him a gift, but he can’t give it yet. Bad knew exactly what he would do if it turned out his own loved ones were still around, and he knows what Cellbit would do, too.

If Cellbit knew that Roier was still alive, he’d leave.

[crazy-fangirl2524]

Sometimes I genuinely forget that exy isn’t real like wdym I know this sport better than myself

[pocketramblr]

I always found it slightly awkward how media makes siblings or people who see each other as siblings call each other brother/sister all the time as in real life you almost never see people do that with their own siblings (maybe someone out there like that)

In the case of Arkham Shadows I see why they did though because Bruce quite literally tells Harvey he loves him and Harvey says it back. Can't have the audience think Batman is in love with the DA.

They had Bruce pay for his college, pay for his campaign, pay for his surgery, pay for his therapy and had Harvey have him as his best man at his wedding. Wow..... Sugar baby Harvey is real.....

The calling sibling title thing is less common in English than in some other languages for sure- me and a couple of my siblings do it on occasion, but it's for a bit then. More common is when I call one of my close family friends "my sister" or "my nephew" when talking about them to someone else because it's faster and easier to say that than to say "my friend who I've known since she was born and lived with for a few years and consider a little sister" or "child of a close family friend who considers me an aunt" to someone who doesn't know them. Which is a lot of words to say that if they wanted to fully sell me on the brothers thing they should have either had a different bit or should have referred to the other as "my brother" when talking to an unrelated character instead.

But "oh no we have to make Bruce not look gay" has been a problem DC has struggled with more than once for many decades and it basically never works so I guess at least they didn't try to solve it this time by having Bruce pick a lady love over Harvey or cutting the holding hands thing

Because I saw that scrapbook! I know Harvey has been Bruce's sugar baby since he was ten years old! But we can't have Bruce take Harvey's hand and call him the love of his life because ok technically that's Gotham but also because gay. And we can't have Bruce take Harvey's hand and call him his best friend because they're not ten anymore and somehow that seems gay also. So brothers it is, I guess. Even if I think my brothers would bite my finger if I ever tried to pay for everything for them on that scale, guess it's different at billionaire levels

[number1villainstan]

"You look like shit."

"Thank you, Yuna, I really needed to hear that. Why are you here exactly?"

"For Eri."

"You want her back? I thought you were done with her."

"Done with her? She's my kid."

"Yeah, your kid who killed your husband so you didn't want her anymore. I know how this works."

"Well clearly you don't, because what the fuck, Chisaki. You think I'm going to abandon my kid?"

"You already did abandon your kid. And then Pops gave her to me because he couldn't be arsed to take care of her either."

"Do you want me to take her back or not?"

"By all means, take her! I am not equipped to take care of a child! I'm just saying, you are not as innocent here as you want to pretend!"

"I'm not pretending anything! I don't care about how innocent I am! I just want my kid back! Fuck off!"

"Fine! Whatever! I'll go get her, just--"

"Absolutely not, I'm coming with you."

"Excuse me?"

"I'm coming with you, idiot. What, are you deaf now? I want to see my kid! And make sure she isn't missing any limbs!"

"Do you think I'd let her arm get chopped off? I'm not that negligent--"

"Maybe you are though! You said yourself that you're not equipped to take care of a kid! How am I supposed to know that she doesn't have a broken leg or something--"

"She's right here, you two. Quit arguing."

[Silence.]

"...hi, Hari."

"Hello, Kurono."

"Mama?"

"Hey, Eri baby. Are you alright? ...is that an alligator plushie?"

"'s a caiman. Nemoto gave it to me."

"I told you she was fine, Yuna."

"Shut up, Kai."

"In any case, if Eri's leaving, we should help her pack up her stuff. Kai, would you help me out?"

"Yeah. Yeah. Just--Yuna, can you tell the oyaji about this?"

"Why can't you?"

"Because he'll think I'm lying and I dumped her out on the street or something. He trusts you. He doesn't trust me."

"He doesn't trust me."

"He trusts you more than he trusts me."

"That's ridiculous. You tell him."

"You tell him."

"No, you tell him."

"You tell him."

"You both tell him."

"But Hari--"

"Both of you tell him. Now, Eri, are you ready to go?"

"Can I say goodbye to Nemoto first?"

"Sure, I'll go find him. And then we'll grab your stuff and hand you over. Kai, Yuna, you two go tell the oyaji, I'll take care of Eri. Seriously, you two are worse than Nemoto and I--"

"Hari--"

"GO."

"Fine."

"...fine."