#only other people doing dramatics like that are the ravens

[afurtivecake]

At every team meeting, Andrew sits like he's a mob boss from a TV drama, surrounded by his underlings. This is practically canon:

Everyone just arranges themselves like they're doing a promo shoot where they're trying to display Andrew to advantage. They always leave Andrew the centre seat while flanking him in formation. :

They're all drama queens, I'm afraid.

[ilovolderman]

Playing It Cool

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: Sam’s getting way too suspicious about your secret relationship with Bucky.

Word Count: 1.6k

Warnings: humor, fluff, secret dating, laundry room shenanigans, sam wilson being done

A/N: this can be read as a standalone even though it's part of a series called "You Said What". It doesn't necessarily follow a specific order, but if you want to check out the other parts, here they are: part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6 thanks for reading, i hope you like it :)

Sam didn’t sleep well.

It wasn’t the coffee. It wasn’t even the lingering PTSD from a week spent chasing Hydra remnants. No, this was different.

This was gut feeling. Instinct.

He was standing in the kitchen, hair wild, hoodie misaligned, and eyes like a war veteran who’d seen things and couldn’t unsee them. The clock blinked a smug 7:03 a.m. He poured black coffee like a man betrayed by the very concept of sleep.

That’s when he saw it.

Two mugs on the counter.

One had your initials. The other—a vintage WWII fighter plane sticker. It hadn’t been there last night. He knew, because he always did a final kitchen sweep before bed. Counters clean. Dishes put away. Mugs? Accounted for.

His eye twitched.

“…Barnes,” Sam whispered.

He crouched slowly, inspecting the mugs like they might start confessing their crimes.

Then the hallway creaked. Sam turned so fast he sloshed coffee onto his hoodie.

You entered the room, yawning dramatically, hoodie sleeves engulfing your hands.

“Morning,” you mumbled.

Sam squinted. “Is it? Is it really?”

You blinked. “…Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he said, with the exact tone of a man who was absolutely not fine. He walked to the table and pulled out a chair like it owed him money. “Sit.”

“Why?”

“Because I have questions.”

“I’m not under interrogation.”

“You are now.”

“…Sam.”

“Tell me what you were doing between 0500 and 0700 hours.”

“Sleeping.”

“Alone?”

You squinted. “What kind of creepy follow-up—?”

Sam narrowed his eyes like a raccoon about to steal a whole rotisserie chicken. “I knew it. There’s a cover-up.”

You grabbed a piece of toast and headed for the hallway. “There’s a cover-up on your brain, Wilson.”

“I’ve seen the signs,” Sam called after you. “The glances! The whispers! The ‘accidental’ brush of hands during mission briefings!”

“Maybe I’m just clumsy!” you yelled.

“And matching mugs?”

“That sticker was mine first!”

Before Sam could yell something, Bucky entered the room, with aexpression criminally smug. He looked like the kind of man who had just done something worth hiding.

“Morning,” Bucky said, voice low and gravelly. He moved to the coffee pot.

Sam’s eyes followed him like a hawk on its sixth espresso.

“You okay?” Bucky asked.

“I’m great,” Sam replied. “Y/N just left.”

“Cool.”

“Came in lookin’ real tired.”

“People get tired.”

“You look real tired.”

Bucky paused, looked Sam dead in the eye. “You implying something?”

Sam sipped his coffee. “I don’t know. You implying something?”

They stared each other down. The air crackled. Somewhere in the distance, a tumbleweed rolled by. A raven cawed.

“You need sleep,” Bucky muttered.

“I’ll sleep when the truth sleeps,” Sam snapped back.

Then Sam dramatically left the room—only to storm back in ten seconds later to grab a banana. He peeled it with authority and left again.

Later that morning, when Sam had finally left for a jog—or more accurately, a neighborhood reconnaissance mission—you found yourself back in the kitchen. You were putting away a dish, humming quietly to yourself, when a pair of warm arms slid around your waist.

You didn’t jump. You never did when it was him.

“Hey,” Bucky murmured against your neck, voice soft now, stripped of the earlier smugness he reserved for sparring with Sam. His lips brushed your skin like a secret.

“Hey yourself,” you whispered, leaning back into his chest. “You’re not worried Sam’s going to install surveillance cameras?”

“He probably already has.” You both laughed.

He rested his chin on your shoulder. “I left my mug out on purpose, you know.”

You turned your head to look at him, brow raised. “Seriously?”

Bucky shrugged, expression boyishly proud. “He’s been circling for weeks. Figured we’d give him a trail to follow. Let the man feel like he cracked the case.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “You are so chaotic.”

He grinned. “You love it.”

You turned in his arms, resting your hands on his chest. “Yeah… I kinda do.”

He kissed you then. Slow. Sweet. Familiar. The kind of kiss that said, even with a super-spy roommate and questionable mugs, this? This is real.

Later that night you bumped into Sam, sitting on the couch. He was hunched forward, elbows on knees, staring ahead

“Where are you going?” he asked, voice low and suspicious, eyes narrowing like you’d just confessed to treason.

You froze. “Uh. Laundry?”

“Interesting,” he said, voice dripping with suspicion. “You know who else said they had laundry tonight?”

You blinked. “…Literally everyone who owns clothes?”

Sam didn’t smile. He leaned in, voice lowering like he was revealing national security secrets. “Barnes. Same night. Same floor. Same time.”

You paused just long enough to regret getting out of your room.

“It’s a laundry room, Sam,” you said flatly. “That’s how they work. People… use it.”

“Mmmhm,” he replied, writing something cryptic in his notebook. The pen squeaked aggressively against the page.

Just then, the door swung open—and in walked Bucky Barnes, freshly showered, damp hair swept back like a shampoo commercial, whistling something suspiciously upbeat.

 “Y/N. Wilson,” he greeted smoothly.

“Barnes,” Sam said, staring like he was trying to burn a hole through his soul with his eyes.

You smiled. Just a regular smile. Harmless. No romantic undertones. Just two coworkers… being cordial.

Totally.

 “You know... I was asking Y/N here,” Sam said, still squinting, “about her suspiciously coordinated laundry schedule.”

Bucky didn’t miss a beat. “Must be fate.”

You coughed, choking down a laugh.

Sam slammed his notebook shut with the kind of theatrical flair that screamed “I was born for this drama.”

“Enough. You think I’m not onto you. But I see things.”

Bucky raised a brow. “You seeing ghosts again?”

“I’m seeing clues, Barnes. Don’t play dumb. You two doing laundry together. The mugs. The vanishing act during last Tuesday’s debrief—twenty minutes. Both of you. Gone.”

You opened your mouth, searching for a reasonable explanation, but let’s be honest—this was Sam. There was no “reasonable” left. This man had turned your laundry schedule into a covert op.

You crossed your arms. “We went to get snacks.”

“Snacks,” Sam echoed flatly.

“Yes,” you said, trying to maintain dignity. “You know. Human food. Fuel. Chips. The sacred post-mission ritual.”

Sam’s expression didn’t change. “For twenty minutes.”

“There was a vending machine incident,” Bucky added smoothly, stepping closer, unbothered. “Y/N had a standoff with a bag of peanut M&Ms. It got intense.”

You rolled your eyes as Bucky leaned casually against the doorframe, looking way too smug for someone being accused of laundry-based espionage.

Sam was relentless. “You think this is a game? Because I’ve got spreadsheets. I’ve got charts. I have timestamps.”

“I’m flattered,” Bucky replied, folding his arms. “Didn’t realize I was your top case file.”

“You’re not,” Sam snapped. “You’re just the most suspicious.”

You shook your head, already backing toward the hallway. “Okay, well, I’m gonna go… do the thing. With the clothes. Like a normal human person.”

“Sure you are,” Sam muttered, squinting again like he was two seconds away from installing security cameras.

“Goodnight, Wilson,” Bucky said with a wink. And then—because of course—he followed you out.

“Hey!” Sam called. “This isn’t over!”

You didn’t turn around, but you did hear the sound of him furiously scribbling in that cursed notebook again.

You and Bucky sat side by side on top of the industrial dryer, the hum of the spinning machines filling the quiet room. A single overhead light flickered occasionally, casting a soft glow over the laundry baskets at your feet. The scent of fabric softener lingered in the warm air.

“He’s going to lose his mind,” you murmured, folding a hoodie with unnecessary precision.

“He already has,” Bucky said, smirking. “Tried to stick a tracker in my jacket this morning.”

You laughed, bumping your shoulder into his. “We should start leaving fake clues. Plant a puzzle piece under his pillow. Hang a tie in the garage.”

“I already put a sock in the fridge,” Bucky said casually, reaching over to pull a warm towel from the dryer.

You turned to look at him, mouth open in delight. “You didn’t.”

“I did. Red. Argyle. No explanation.”

You grinned, shaking your head. “I love you.”

Bucky chuckled, leaning in to kiss your temple. “I know.”

You went quiet for a beat, letting the rhythm of the machines and the safe warmth between you fill the space. His knee rested against yours. The scent of his cologne barely clung to the edge of his freshly laundered shirt.

He reached for your hand, twining his fingers through yours beneath the basket of still-warm socks. “He’s getting close, though. We are getting pretty obvious.”

“You wanna stop?” you asked, turning toward him.

He looked at you—really looked. And it was all soft eyes, steady presence, and a patience you hadn’t known you needed until him.

“Not a chance.”

Bucky smiled, warm and easy, and pressed his forehead lightly to yours.

“So,” you whispered, “what are we going to do when Sam actually proves something?”

“We deny everything.”

You laughed. “Even under interrogation?”

“Especially under interrogation.”

One day, he’d prove it.

But not today.

Meanwhile in the living room, Sam was writing in his notebook. On the top of the page:

CASE #110: They’re DEFINITELY Dating. And beneath it, scrawled in increasingly frantic handwriting:

shared laundry = suspicious

“Coincidentally” always sitting next to each other

Y/N smiled at him like he invented air.

Bucky smiled back.

FRIDAY pinged softly. “Sir, your blood pressure is elevated.”

“Because there’s a LIE in this house, Friday!”

War was still on.

But as long as you had Bucky Barnes looking at you like you were his whole world?

You were definitely still winning.

taglist: @svtbpbts @cupids-mf-arrow @whitewolfluvr @cece2608 @yehfitoormera @yesiamthatwierd@poodleofstardust @poodleofstardust @homeless-clown @kitasownworld @loversrocktvgirl2

A/N: it's me again, hi. just wanted to say a big thank you for all the comments and feedback i've been getting from all of you. never thought that a one-shot could turn into a series with already SEVEN PARTS. anyway, just thank you all again. i hope you're liking where this is going. see you next chapter <3

next part

[doorp]

the third house is so silly its the fucking ‘I eat hot chip and lie but you’ll like it because my lies are sexy’ house. It’s the ‘every time I show up i am noticeably out of place in the narrative i find myself in because ive sucker punched my way into being relevant’ house. a fundamental trait of the third house is just believing that you’re the main character when you’re absolutely not. They’re a house of tragically genre and role confused characters. Even down to their literature, (Abella Trine, the heroine of palamedes’ terrible river bubble novel he’s stuck with) the third house always acts in a way that implies that they all think they’re the main character of a trashy novel. And its so funny because they succeed! 90 percent of the time in any story, the main character randomly appears in the narrative with no warning to any of the other characters, and out of nowhere begins to affect the plot in ways unthinkable to the supporting cast.

In tlt we as the readers get to see that dynamic from the *other perspective* corona and ianthe and naberius and valency and cyrus are NOT the main characters, but any time they appear theres this sense of bewilderment you get when you think about them for like 2 seconds. Like where the hell did you come from man?? By all accounts you should not be doing this well. Who ARE YOU. Who do you *think* you are??? Throughout Gideon the ninth, ianthe is just like fucking stalking everyone and ignoring the entire plot to skulk around who knows where, and the only times she gets a spotlight or opens her mouth, the vibes are deplorable! delightfully nasty! befuddling! Every 80 pages ianthe pops out of her hole for 2 pages to say something weirdly ominous or offensive, and you’re like. Okay weird nasty c plot character you’re pretty funky and I kinda forgot you were here. AND THEN. NINETY PERCENT OF THE WAY THROUGH THE BOOK. SHE COMES OUT OF NOWHERE TO GIVE A DRAMATIZED VILLAINOUS SPEECH ABOUT HOW SHE KILLED AND ATE A DUDE. AND SHE WASNT EVEN THE ONE DOING ALL THE OTHER MURDERS. This is a completely unrelated murder she has committed, for completely unrelated reasons. everyone should now realize that they underestimated her and rue the day they assumed lesser of her necromantic capabilities! She even admits she had a whole speech planned out thats going Not Well bc the guy she ate is trying to come back up.

Babs is tragically in the wrong genre, stretching his fabulous abs for no one who cares, i mean, he is a guy who- in any book not filled with toxic lesbian drama- would be a star player, but he’s not! He gets eaten and all anyone there who knew him had to say about it was “babs? Who even cares about babs!” In line with the thirds rule of tropious misplaced leads with main character syndrome, he is a trope that is subverted tragically in that he has everything that should set him up for success narratively, yet any time he is mentioned or does anything ever, he’s humiliated! all his lovers cheat on him, even when he wins a duel he gets shat on by everyone there bc his personality sucks, no one cares about his abs, he’s stuck in a toxic power dynamic with bad twin and worse twin, he gets fucking EATEN. Babs by all accounts would be the successful male lead but gets ZERO WINS over the course of the entire series. You’re confused about how and why this kind of character is in this kind of book, and it makes perfect sense that he does not do well! He has you thinking “what is this hetero romance lead doing in this book of ravenous lesbians. I hate him. I hope they eat him.” And then they DO. Hes not supposed to be in this book but he insists he is and it gets him killed.

Cyrus and Valency never actually appear in the story, yet still manage this bewildering insistence of their own importance. Who else but 2 people eternally convinced that they are the main characters would paint dozens of their own nudes and give them out at birthday parties? I rest my case.

Corona is the most subtle out of all of these, the confident, charismatic and beautiful leader is present in any book no matter the genre. So what makes corona out of place? What makes her the genre switcher? Her relative mundanity. Her supreme insistence of making everything she does a hot girl summer, no matter the horrors. In as yet unset she is notably *not* the main character, yet she is able to turn the whole of Judith’s attempt at a gritty torturous prisoner of war log into a messy and petty sapphic drama. In nona the ninth she uses this power to become a key figure amongst characters such as: 10,000 year old woman stuck in her dead best friends body, A girl so obsessed with her QPR that shes dying bc she lets his ghost take over her body several times a day, the resurrected soul of the planet earth stuck inside the body of a malnourished 19 year old girl, a commando rebel nepo baby with 2 machetes and a gas mask, a 14 year old girl named hot sauce who keeps a gun in her pants. This is not to say Corona isn’t an outlandish or weird character. She’s MESSED up. this is to say that she has no magical powers or outlandish talent, yet still manages to come out of the woodwork performing deeds entirely unexpected. At some point in nona the ninth she is literally the only perfectly mortal person in a room of powerful superhumans and demigods. it has you thinking HOW AND WHY DID YOU GET HERE. and the answer is that shes third. This is what the third does. When you’re challenging a fascist demigod to a duel, the third comes in, grabs your gun, and goes “IM GOING TO KILL MYSELF IF YOU DONT FIGHT RIGHT NOW!” And because the fascist demigod is her sister and also third, it works somehow.

Speaking of that particular fascist third demigod: even when pal is fighting her in her mindscape, shes not the main character. Ianthe literally builds an entire pocket dimension where she is the center of attention of a stage play, and PAL is the main character. The third fundamentally cannot be main characters, bc their whole thing is being so self possessed that they feel like characters that are EXTREMELY genre confused.

The funny thing is, i think ianthe is the only one of these who realizes shes fundamentally misunderstood the role shes meant to play. In harrow the ninth she acts the roguish bad boy love interest who is mean and angsty to the female lead. She’s soooooo cynical, so quirky, referencing many times different tropes from trashy romance novels shes read. She directly parallels john in the belief that she is the main character. Its not until she spends her time babysitting and covering for john that she realizes she isnt like him, or realizes theyre both not what she thinks they are. She sees gods pathetic wallowing and is like “fuck. He thinks he’s the main character. Hes a pathetic villain. I think im the main character. Im a pathetic villain!” her experiences in the time between the end of harrow the ninth and when she shows up in nona have caused her to realize shes a full hog villain. She goes from “heh.. im the ill ignored female lead that no one expected…” in Gideon the ninth, to “heh… im the cynical bad boy romancer that the priggish female lead needs….” In harrow the ninth, to her nona the ninth mindset of “LMAO IM THE NARCISSISTIC VILLAIN!i am the fascist white girl this galaxy needs. The emperor is having a midlife crisis orgy and i am the shadow government. I literally don’t care anymore the zombie apocalypse is upon us and im best friends with a corpse who won’t stop moping over her ex” Whatever fucked up shit has happened to ianthe in that gap of time has caused her to completely reevaluate her role in the story.

anyway i love the third house. i love their freaky gimmicks and infiltrating the narrative and warping it to their own agenda bc they’re fundamentally genre confused. I love how it fucks them over in the stupidest ways.

[uniquethingtastemaker]

Woooooow, you're getting fed today. Here's a whole cut section from Rook x Observant Reader. This was one of my early, early drafts. While it's not the angle I ultimately chose, it's well thought out

Context: This is in the middle of your first canonical meeting with Rook when you and Clown Crew are trying to sign up for VDC. He just revealed his uncanny ability to memorize things, including personal information

“You have a good memory. Do you know everybody’s name and height?” you ask.

“Oui, as I said I like to be prepared for any situation,” Rook reiterates with a deadly smile.

You ignore the warning sign and press forward. 

“The names and class I can understand, but where did you get our heights?” you question.

“I can tell just by looking at you,” the hunter answers.

Your eyebrows raise in surprise. 

“That’s a specific skill,” you comment. “Is there any benefit other than fact-checking people if they’re lying about their height?”

“I learned it to help narrow down and estimate the length of someone’s gait. However, I can call out a lie of that kind when I see one,” the vice leader replies, amused.

“That’s resourceful,” you admire. “Are the Leech twins the same height?”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “Non, Monsieur Malfeasance is one centimeter taller than Monsieur Mastermind. Those are two of my other favorite subjects to watch. They’re so interesting.”

Frowning, you decipher the names. 

“Monsieur Mastermind is Jade, but what does malfeasance mean?” you question.

“It’s the fancy word for wrongdoing,” Rook provides.

“Yeah, that’s an apt nickname for Floyd,” you agree before leaning in.

You ask the question you’ve been wanting to ask since the beginning. “Where did you get your hat?”

Rook looks up, touching the object.

“I made it myself,” he reveals with a smile. 

You perk up with a tilt of your head. 

“Can I see it?” you request innocently.

Rook relinquishes his hat with a dramatic bow. “Oui, it’s a délice you’ve taken such an interest in me, [Y/N].” 

You giggle, taking it into your hands. You’re glad he understands your desire to learn more about him. He’s interesting.

You refocus on the hunter’s accessory. It’s surprisingly soft and smooth. You run your thumb along the leather, observing its trim and stitches. The belt buckle is shiny, and the white feather is big and fluffy. The entire item is made with high-quality materials. It makes you wonder…

“Did you personally source the materials?” you inquire. “You said you were a hunter after all.”

Rook’s eyebrows shoot up.

“Oui, I did!” He grins. “I’m impressed you made the connection. Most people don’t.”

His emerald green eyes sparkle, fascinated. You glance away with a satisfied smirk. 

“This is an ostrich feather, right? What animal did you use for the leather? Did you make the leather yourself?” you bombard.

He drifts closer to you, answering with ease. 

“Oui, that’s an ostrich feather. I used deer skin. I dried and tanned it myself,” he responds. 

“It’s a work of art,” you comment, before placing the hat on yourself. “It’s well-made and comfortable. It has a nice weight, too. How long have you had it?”

Rook watches you model his hat. His gaze follows you with the narrowed eyes of a hunter. 

“I’ve had this one since I joined Night Raven College,” he explains.

“Have you made any others?”

“Oui, I made the hat that goes with my dorm uniform,” Rook replies with a small and fond smile.

“Is it from the same hide?” you question, still feeling and touching the hat. 

“No, but it is still deerskin,” the hunter answers.

Leona butts in, “He didn’t even make it at the same time. He transferred to Pomefiore halfway through his first year. It’s the only good thing he’s ever done.”

You’ve been watching Rook this whole time. The hunter’s face flickers, displeased at the reveal of personal information. It’s for a split second. It’s gone so quickly that you doubt it was there. However, with one glance at Leona, it’s confirmed. He has a smug and pleased look in his eye. He wanted to gain a negative reaction from the hunter. You file that information away. 

Rook comments, “I do not regret my decision to follow Roi de Poison, but I miss watching you closer while I was in Savanaclaw.”

“Well, I’m grateful I don’t have to sleep with you in the dorm,” Leona retorts. 

It takes a second for Deuce to whisper to you, “Roi de Poison?”

“Vil,” you translate without a second thought.  

“[Y/N], you're most astute, quick, and clever! With my hat, I’m sure you’ll be able to impersonate me in no time.” Rook claps his hands, delighted.

You take his direction. You imitate him, giving a flourish similar to Rook’s when he introduced himself.

“Je m'appelle Rook Hunt, the self-proclaimed Le Chasseur D'Armour. I'm honored to make your acquaintance,” you act with a wink.

You decide to be bold. Bowing, you pull off the hat and hold it to your chest. You grab the hunter's hand and kiss it. You straighten, donning the accessory once more. You take a step back, pleased with your performance. 

“How did I do?” you ask with an eager grin.

Rook wastes no time or words to drown you in praise.

“Magnifique! Beaute! 100 points!” He bursts out, grabbing your hands this time. “The added detail of the kiss was merveilleuse. You could pass for me anytime. You are truly incroyable.”

You smile at his enthusiasm. How can you not? His energy’s infectious.

“The only thing I need to do is get accepted into Pomefiore and then we can trade at any time,” you joke.

Rook looks at you with a glimmer in his eyes. 

“We can solve that,” he tells you, slipping off his blazer. “As the Vice Leader of Pomefiore, I can make you a temporary member. I can’t take the crest off my jacket, so we’ll trade accessories and personas for the afternoon.”

Excitement bubbles within you. You bite your lip to keep the smile off your face, but it doesn’t work. You haven’t had this much fun in a while. You’ve always been fond of plays, musicals, and acting, but haven’t gotten to talk with someone with those interests. You love your Clown Crew, but they weren’t the type to participate in improv. Although, you’re sure their personalities would get them a spot. You match the hunter’s movements, taking your blazer off, and holding it out to him.

“My blazer definitely won’t fit you, but keep it to make sure I come back to give you your items back,” you answer. 

“Oui, I will,” he reassures, draping your jacket over his forearm. “Roi de Poison would scold me for an atrocious fashion violation. However, I will risk it for the joy of such a beaute and radiante person. I’ll take extra precautions to avoid Beautiful Vil’s wrath.” 

Rook gives you a wink as you put on his blazer. It’s too big, but you don’t mind. It smelled like fresh rain. 

“You smell nice,” you comment, “It smells nice, but you don’t wear cologne, right?”

“Oui, I don’t,” he confirms with an interested smile. 

You give a sage nod. “It would give away your position as a hunter.”

Rook hums in agreement. He watches your movements. 

“When and where do you want me to return it to you?” you ask. “Or will you find me?”

“You’re catching onto my habits well, Trickster. I’ll be able to find you,” Rook confirms.

You perk up. “Is that my nickname?” 

The huntsman laughs. “Oui, a special one just for you.”

You grin. 

“Alright see you later—” you start, before pausing. “Do you like hugs?” 

Rook’s cat-like eyes narrow in delight.

“Oui, I would be more than happy to receive one from you,” he replies, before murmuring. “Such innocent prey coming into the arms of a hunter.”

You prove him wrong by pouncing. The wind knocks out of him as he makes a sound of shock. Rook recovers in an instant, chuckling.

“You’re full of surprises, Trickster,” he says.

You pull away.

“And you’re full of secrets,” you tease quietly. 

You giggle, pull away, and sweep out of the room.

"Bye, Rook!" you tell him.

Your friends soon catch up. 

“That was disgusting,” Ace emphasizes when you’re out of earshot. “Next time, warn me when you flirt with a guy.”

“I didn’t know that was your type,” Grim grumbles. “He was weird. He looked like he was going to track and stalk Leona. I don’t want to be next.”

“I’ll keep the attention off of you,” you reassure.

He gives you a wary glare with a scrunched-up nose. “I don’t like him.”

You shrug. “I do. He’s interesting, talented, and more importantly, he let me borrow his hat. He’s entertaining. Besides, I think he’s hiding something.”

Deuce leans in closer, interested. “What do you mean?”

“There’s some stuff that’s off about him. Why does he know everybody’s heights at a glance? That’s not something a normal person would know, even if they were a hunter. He also tensed up when Leona revealed he was from Savanaclaw. I don’t think he likes personal information being revealed despite knowing a lot about everyone else."

“Huh, I didn’t notice that,” Deuce says.

“Yeah, because you’re dense and not in love with him,” Ace snarks. “Is that why you were trying to get close to him?” 

“No, it’s just a bonus that he’s a little mysterious. It adds to the appeal,” you reply.

“I was hoping for the impossible,” Ace grimaces.

You pat him on his back in sympathy.

(Interesting first take! Compared to what I have now, this version of Rook is way more open. The Reader is also much more excitable. Ultimately, I like the official version, but this is adorable. I hope you like it as much as I do... probably more because you don't have the official and giant 40k fanfic at your disposal lol

(The sentence variety isn't as engaging as it could be, but it's good enough. Plus, I have a headache. rip. send me get wells lol... still going to work on Riddle's Dreaming of You fanfic despite the pain lol

(Tell me what you think!)

[ducksido]

Hi! I hope you're doing well. I'd like to see the reactions of the Twisted Wonderland boys to a male Yuu who is their partner BUT we’re from the Malfoy family and our brother is Draco. We have the same personality as him, and if possible, we’re his twin brother. We are Draco’s (adult) twin brothers, oh yeah.🔥

(I only did housewardens + some random characters. (i spun a wheel) and male!yuu)

Housewarden's

Riddle Rosehearts At first, Riddle is constantly flustered. You’re confident, aristocratic, and walk around like you own Night Raven College. He tries to lecture you about rules, but you always manage to twist things around with silver-tongued logic that makes him look like the one out of line. Still, he admires your poise and elegance—something he resonates with deeply. The Malfoy name and your mannerisms impress his mother (a bit too much), and Riddle panics when she starts suggesting matching cloaks for you both.

“I do wish you’d follow the rules more, but… you do look remarkably dignified in that uniform.”

Leona Kingscholar Oh, he loves it. That snarky attitude? The disdainful smirks? The way you carry yourself like a prince even in the dust and grime? You’re like an aristocratic flame he can’t stop poking. There’s constant banter—your refined Malfoy shade vs. his lazy princely sarcasm. When you rest in his lap with a “You should feel honored,” he just smirks and says, “Keep dreaming, blondie.” Deep down, he’s obsessed with your sass and calls you “My snob.”

“Tch. You’re arrogant, dramatic, and clearly spoiled… Don’t stop. It’s entertaining.”

Azul Ashengrotto He sees you and goes: power couple potential. You walk into the Lounge like you own it? Azul is immediately imagining your names on a business plaque. You charm clients with that rich pureblood charisma while he handles the deals—it’s perfect. Your “I'm a Malfoy, darling” line has floored Floyd more than once, and Jade genuinely enjoys your wit. Azul acts cool, but internally he’s giddy every time you lean over and whisper venomous observations about other students in that smooth drawl.

“I must say, Mr. Malfoy… having you by my side is a terrifying advantage.”

Kalim Al-Asim You’re like...a whole new species to Kalim. He’s fascinated. You always act like everything around you is quaint, and he adores how proper you are—like a storybook noble. He doesn’t even notice your judgmental little remarks half the time; he just laughs and offers you more baklava. When you actually soften for him (in private), it makes his heart melt. “You’re the only one here worthy of my time,” you whisper—and he’s swooning.

“You’re so different from everyone I know… but I love that about you!”

Vil Schoenheit Power. Couple. You both radiate beauty, pride, and unshakable self-worth. Others can’t stand to be near you for too long because the combined judgment is crushing. You two correct people’s posture with synchronized sneers. But there’s a surprising softness between you and Vil—brushing his hair, matching cologne, whispered words of affirmation masked in aristocratic elegance. Epel thinks you two might actually be the same person split into two bodies.

“We are not ‘too much’—we are simply correct. And if the world can’t keep up, that’s its failure.”

Idia Shroud At first, he’s intimidated. You’re elegant, confident, and you talk like you’ve never seen a video game in your life. But then—you call him darling. With a smirk. You tease him gently, but always with this aura of protectiveness. Idia’s heart explodes. He starts calling you “my evil noble overlord bf” and writes fanfic about you two where he’s your mysterious magical bodyguard. You play along with the drama perfectly, like a Malfoy who found a socially anxious gremlin and just decided, “This one is mine.”

“W-wait… you actually… like me? You’re not just roleplaying some… aristocrat kink!?”

Malleus Draconia Oh, a fellow noble with centuries of tradition behind the family name? He is intrigued. You and he bond over legacy, etiquette, and terrifyingly intimidating stares. But you’re dramatically sassy in a way that Malleus finds deeply amusing—like an elegant cat batting at things it hates. You openly critique NRC architecture, call Lilia’s tea “peasant brew,” and pet Sebek on the head like a dog. Malleus, utterly charmed, just chuckles and says, “How delightful you are, my little Malfoy.”

“You are bold, arrogant, and strangely enchanting… You must meet my grandmother.”

Bonus: Others

Ruggie Bucchi “Rich, cocky, and talks like he’s above everyone?” He should hate you. But you feed him imported wizarding pastries and fix his tie with a delicate touch. You always act like he’s your pet hyena, and Ruggie just rolls with it. He teases you about being “too soft” for the Slums™, but deep down, he likes your snooty attitude—it makes him laugh when you get flustered.

Silver You treat him like a knight sworn to protect your delicate nobility. He doesn’t really get your dramatic nature, but he respects your pride. You’ll ruffle his hair and say, “You’re the only one here with manners,” and he’ll nod solemnly. You fall asleep on him, and he carries you to bed like a perfect Malfoy prince deserves.

Sebek Zigvolt He doesn’t know how to process you. You insult his tone, correct his posture, and call him a “shrieking goblin” when you’re mad—but he can’t deny how regal and commanding you are. You remind him of Malleus in a weird way. There’s lots of yelling, but you two somehow make it work. When you defend him to others? He blushes to his ears.

Floyd Leech He thinks you’re hilarious. You act like you’re made of porcelain, and he’s always poking at you to see when you’ll snap. You call him a “brutish merman” and he just laughs and picks you up like a cat. You may act above it all, but you secretly love the chaos. Floyd calls you “Fancy-pants” and smothers you with affection in public just to mess with your image.

[wafflefries13]

Murder on the Mr. Bluebird Express (TWST x Reader)

Summary:

It's your birthday! To celebrate, Malleus has scored you and all your friends tickets on the famous Mr. Bluebird Express. As you all board the train, isolated with no cell service, the night can only go well, right? ... Right?

Warnings: Slight depictions of blood and gore (?), character injury, happy ending (I promise, guys, I can't follow through with angst to save my life), can be read as platonic or romantic, afab reader with she/her pronouns

Cross posted on my AO3 TheGhostInTheKitchen

Author's note: I've always loved mysteries, so this is my first try at actually writing one. Not sure how good it actually is, but if you never practice you'll never get any better at it. I got the idea from an episode of Detective Academy Q, if anyone has ever seen that anime. Thanks for reading!

“Your birthday is soon, isn’t it?” Malleus asked as if he hadn’t marked the date on his calendar months ahead of time. “You must tell me what you would like for a present. No object is out of reach.”

(Y/N) waved her hand at him. “No, don’t worry about it. It’s on a weekend, which is good. Having the day off is pretty much all I really want. Well, you know, as much a day off as I can get. I’m sure Crowley will find something else for me to do.” She rolled her eyes dramatically. “Ooh, maybe we can go into town. I wouldn’t mind if you get me lunch from that one cafe in Foothill Town.”

“Nothing would make me happier.” He said, putting a hand to his chest and bowing regally. (Y/N) laughed, shoving him playfully. Green fireflies swirled around them, the only light accompanying the stars on the moonless night. Although it was late, Malleus and (Y/N) had become more than accustomed to their late night walks at this point that they were both wide away at this time of night no matter what.

“Oh, don’t let me forget,” (Y/N) said suddenly. “Sebek lent me a book the other day. Would you be able to give it back to him for me? We don’t have any classes together tomorrow.”

“Of course. What book was it?”

(Y/N) spread her hands wide in front of them, as if displaying the title. “Midnight Rose. It’s a murder mystery about the bookworm daughter of a crazy professor. There’s a bunch of mysterious, animal attack-like deaths in their small country village, and her father is blamed, so she has to find the real murderer while teaming up with a local nobel with a dark secret. Apparently it’s a classic here. I used to love reading mysteries back in my world. My favorite classic author was Agatha Christie. She had amazing stories and I loved trying to guess the end.”

“Do tell,” Malleus said.

“Let’s see. She had a bunch of really famous ones. And Then There Were None is about a bunch of seemingly unrelated people being invited to an isolated island before mysteriously dying off one by one. Murder on the Nile is a locked room mystery on a boat during a newlywed party. Crooked House has this big sprawling mansion and a ton of suspects. Oh, one of my favorites is Murder on the Orient Express. That one’s on a train and it’s really cool because the culprit is-” She cut herself off with a sly smile. “Well, spoilers for a book that came out, like, a hundred years ago and you’ll probably never be able to read, but still.”

“It sounds like a thrilling experience.”

“Oh, yeah. I think that one’s my favorite because it all takes place on a train. A lot of other countries in my world have these really extensive train networks with all these fancy cars, but it’s not too common in my country. I guess I like to romanticize something like that. Even with the murder.”

Malleus’ eyes twinkled. “Ah, I see. Unfortunately, my dear child of man, we may have to reschedule dining at the cafe. I believe you’ve given me a much better idea of how to celebrate your birthday.”

And that was how a gaggle of Night Raven College students found themselves waiting in a train station, late evening light casting long shadows across the marble floor. The station was almost empty this time of day, only open for the specialty train they were waiting for. (Y/N) looked around her group of friends, giddy that they had all agreed to come on such short notice. Even Leona and Idia, who she knew would rather avoid most responsibility or social situations, had somehow been wrapped up in attending.

Everyone had dressed up for the occasion, as based on the proposed dress code that had been attached to the ornate invitation Malleus had sent out earlier that week. To (Y/N), it reminded her of old Roaring 20’s glamor, suits with detailed beadwork, fancy hats, suspenders, glittering accessories, and slicked styled hair. (Y/N) had found her own flapper-style dress in one of the many abandoned rooms of Ramshackle. A doting Professor Crewel had volunteered to revive the painted silk dress for her special day, including lending her an elegant strand of pearls she looped several times around her neck. Apparently, the style was to reminisce about when the train first came into service during the golden age of non-magical transportation. Whatever the reason, it made (Y/N) feel daring and fancy, like she was a secret princess about to escape into an elegant speakeasy.

“(Y/N)!” Ace called her. She walked over to the Heartslabuyl group standing in front of a large mural depicting their train and the route it would take.

“The Mr. Bluebird Express,” Grim read out. “What a weird name for a train.”

“Is it?” (Y/N) asked. “I always thought trains were like race horses, they always have crazy names. The California Zephyr, the Twilight Limited, the Flying Pussyfoot.”

“I think it’s cute,” Cater said, catching the last of the dying light to get the perfect selfie. “It’s a really famous luxury line. My sisters were super jealous when I told them we were coming. Happy birthday, (Y/N)!” He pulled her into another picture and she smiled and waved.

“Of course, we’ll only be on part of the line tonight,” Riddle said, tracing his finger along the diagram for the scenic ride they were taking for dinner. “Thank you for including us on your birthday.”

“Of course! I wouldn’t want to spend it with anyone else!”

“I’m impressed we were able to get so many tickets last minute,” Trey said. “But, well, I guess Malleus is Malleus.”

“Who cares about scenery!” Grim said, jumping off (Y/N)’s shoulder to hover in the air. “A fancy ride like this probably has super fancy food! When do we get to eat?”

(Y/N) laughed, reaching forward to readjust Grim’s new bow. “The train should get here soon. You won’t starve.”

“Says you. Ugh, I’m fading already. Head, fuzzy, everything going dark.” He dramatically put a paw to his forehead, rolling his eyes and drooping in the air. (Y/N) caught him, holding him close and scratching behind his ears until he perked back up and purred.

They all looked up as a train whistle sounded off in the distance, rapidly approaching. Each dorm group made their way out to the platform, necks craning down the track to watch the train pull into the station. It was a beautiful almost pearlescent dark blue with gold filigree swirling and dancing around the engine and cars. A tall smoke stack on the engine car blew out white steam that twinkle with starburst sparks. Mr. Bluebird Express was written in elegant, swooping golden script along the side of the train. The train hissed to a stop at the platform, a side door clicking open.

Malleus stepped forward, dark and elegant in his black and forest green suit. He held out a black glove clad hand. “Happy birthday, dearest (Y/N).” He said. “After you.”

Kalim whooped behind them. “Happy birthday, (Y/N)!” That started up a round of applause and well wishes from the crowd, even the more reluctant and serious members.

(Y/N) smiled at her friends, heart swelling. She couldn’t believe how incredibly lucky she felt at this moment. The people who mattered most to her in this world, who she had been through so many trials and tribulations with, who she had seen grow and change and had grown and changed with them. Even in this strange world, she knew she wouldn’t want to be or with anyone else. She blinked back happy tears, turning back to Malleus and taking his hand, stepping up the small stairs into the train car.

Her feet immediately sunk into the plush maroon carpet of the train car. She spun around to take in the beautiful interior. The dining car had large rectangular windows, dark wood booths along one side with elegant white dishes and sparkling silverware. There was a bar curving along one end of the car, stocked with crystal glasses and all manner of bottles. A three-tiered blue and white birthday cake sat on top, sparklers fizzing from each tier.

“Wow,” (Y/N) breathed. Malleus stood next to her, eyes sparkling and smiling so wide his fangs were visible. “Hornton, you really pulled out all the stops.”

“I’ll admit,” Leona said, sounding reluctant as he fell into one of the overstuffed leather chairs, putting his hands behind his head and closing his eyes. “It’s not too bad.” (Y/N) thought he looked like a prohibition mob boss.

“I haven’t even been able to secure tickets for the Mr. Bluebird Express before,” Vil said, admiring the detailed work on the wainscotting. His hair was swept to the side, dressed in an elegant dark purple suit that went from fitted around his chest and arms to sweeping, almost skirt-like, around his legs.

“So this is what it feels like to be rich,” Ruggie smirked, standing next to the bar that seemed to have one fewer expensive bottles of bourbon than it did before. “I can see how you can get used to it.” He readjusted his fedora, ears poking out to twitch at the sides. As everyone filed into the dining car, the door clicked shut behind them.

After a moment, they felt the movement of the massive wheels below them, the train pulling away from the station with another whisted from the engine.

“Should there be staff?” Jamil asked. “A conductor or ticket taker?”

“We have the entire train reserved for ourselves,” Malleus said. “While the usual route has staff to attend to guests, as this is a shorter trip the train is limited to only the necessary attendants in the engine. Anything else we would need is supplemented by magic.”

As if waiting for his cue, sparkles swirled around the plates, food appearing and glasses filling out of nowhere.

(Y/N) slid into a booth at the far end next to the bar with Grim, Ace, and Deuce. Each booth was occupied by another group of four. Next was Riddle, Trey, Jamil, and Leona. Second was Kalim, Cater, Lilia, and Ruggie. Past them was Malleus, Sebek, Vil, and Rook. Fifth was Idia, Ortho, Floyd, and Epel. In the last booth were Azul, Jack, and Silver. The car filled with conversation and laughter, people frequently leaning over other booths to talk to the different groups. At one point, Floyd and Ortho started confiscating everyone’s salad forks to build a complicated tower by linking all their tines. Once everyone had finished each course, the remnants would be magically whisked away and replaced with the next, much to the annoyance of Grim who kept trying to lick his plate clean.

Finally, it was time for the centerpiece dessert. Both Jack and Rook held up the cake on its round silver platter, bringing it from the bar to (Y/N)’s table. Some of them slid out from their booths to crowd around (Y/N)’s table, the others standing or watching from their own. “Happy birthday to you~” Everyone started singing.

The train whistled, sharp and loud, reverberating down the train.

“Happy birthday to you!”

Outside the train, the twilight scenery went black as the train entered a tunnel, the only light the glow from the magical floating lamps and sconces in the car.

“Happy birthday, dear (Y/N)~”

The lights flickered, a few voices faltering to look up at the quivering illumination.

“Happy birthday to-”

The dining car plunged into darkness. Every light snuffed out at once, even the flares on the cake fizzling out at the same time. There were a few gasps of surprise, low murmurs of confusion.

“Hang on!” Cater called out. He already had his phone out, filming the song. With a quick swipe and tap, his phone light was on, sweeping it around the room. “I got it… huh?”

The train barreled out of the tunnel, blue evening light flooding back in through the windows at the same time the interior lights clicked back to life. There was a collective sigh of relief, the terror of uncertainty in the dark banished once again.

“That was weird,” (Y/N) said.

“Who cares?” Grim said, eyeing the cake. “Let’s eat!”

“Easy,” Deuce said. “(Y/N) gets the first sli-”

Kalim screamed. Everyone spun around to look at their booth. Kalim was half way standing in his seat, back pressed against the glass. His eyes were wide, locked in place on something next to him (Y/N) couldn’t see as it was blocked by the back of the booth. Jamil immediately darted forward, vaulting himself over the chair of his own booth to practically tackle Kalim out of the way and onto the floor. Jamil forced Kalim to look away, the latter's eyes bubbling with tears and he started sobbing into the formers’ dress shirt. Ruggie yelped, tripping over his own feet as he tried to quickly back away. He fell on his back, hat flying off his head.

“What?” (Y/N) said, panicked, standing. “What happened?”

Malleus turned to her, hand out and eyes wide, already pale face even paler. “(Y/N),” He said, and she could feel the seriousness of the situation from his use of her real name. “Don’t-”

But it was too late. A jerk of the train caused her to stumble closer to the far booth. Her arms pinwheeled out, trying to regain her balance. Still, she stumbled and fell on her knees in front of the booth. With the sound of Kalim crying behind her, and the gasps, strangled screams, and yells of the others in the group, (Y/N) looked up, straight into the cold ruby red dead eyes of Lilia Vanrouge.

The clatter of screams, shouting, and horrified rationalization dulled to an incoherent roar in her ears. She stared up at Lilia, brain slowing down, trying to rationalize what she was seeing. He was slumped over in his seat, face turned to the side to stare out unseeing, arms dangling limply at his sides. A silvery thin round disk protruded from just below his neck, lodged in his spine, blood dripping down the back of his white dress shirt. Shaking, her hand reached out, almost without her own volition. Just before her fingertips could tap Lilia’s hand, arms wrapped around her from behind, hauling her up and away. Deuce lugged her dead weight down the train car, depositing her back in a far booth facing away from Lilia’s body.

Lilia’s body. Lilia’s body. (Y/N) suddenly jerked up, head whipping around. “Where’s Silver?”

Jack rubbed the back of his neck and pointed with his chin. Silver was sitting in his booth, head tilted back and eyes closed, asleep. (Y/N) wasn’t sure when his narcolepsy had taken over, but she hoped it was before they went through the tunnel. Ortho was sitting next to him, holding his hand. Idia stood between Ortho and Lilia’s booth, blocking his little brother’s line of sight, although he kept casting worried looks over his shoulder, whipping his head back down immediately after. Grim practically threw himself into (Y/N)’s stomach, burying his head into her middle. She clutched him tightly.

Leona came up to her booth, Ruggie close at his heels. “(Y/N),” Leona said. “Stay close to me, okay?”

“Okay.” She almost didn’t recognize her own trembling voice. Malleus was standing nearby, his back to her, staring out the window at the passing scenery. His shoulders were back, tense, hands clasped tightly behind his back.

“Hornton?” (Y/N) asked, hand reaching out to touch his arm. “Are you-?” Are you what? Are you okay? Of course not, no one was. Her mind zipped through a thousand possibilities of what to say, what might possibly be the right thing, but everything fizzled on her tongue. He looked at her, once, expression unreasonable, before turning to walk farther into the car.

“We need to call the engineer,” Malleus said, voice breaking through the icy tension in the room. “We’ll need to stop at the nearest station and contact the authorities.”

“I’ve got it,” Azul said, tugging his gloves down farther on his trembling hands. He cleared his throat before reaching for an old fashioned corded phone on the wall by the door to the next car. Everyone’s eyes were locked on him as he waited for the other end to pick up. After a moment, Azul’s forehead wrinkled in confusion. He looked down at the phone, then pressed the dial flip a few times, phone back to his ear. “The line is dead.” He winced at the phrase.

“What?” Sebek snapped. His eyes were red. Beads of blood dotted his lower lip from where he was biting it to keep from wobbling. He marched forward and shoved Azul out of the way, jerking the phone up to his ear. After a frustrated second, he snarled, slamming the phone back on the receiver. “Then we’ll just have to go tell them in person!”

“Are we able to go up through the train?” Riddle asked.

“There are fewer cars than normal,” Malleus said. “But we do have access to the entire train. I’m sure the engineer wouldn’t be expecting us, but I believe they’ll understand our circumstances.”

“This car is at the very end,” Jade said. “I believe there were three others between us and the engine.”

“We don’t all need to go,” Jamil said. He still had an arm around Kalim, who had tears silently tracking down his face. “There’s too many of us to move quickly. And some of us should stay with…” He didn’t need to finish the sentence.

“Two groups, then,” Jade said. “Enough to stay here and make sure the crime scene is preserved, and another to go to the front. That way we’ll have plenty of extra eyes watching our backs.”

“Crime scene?” Riddle echoed. “You’re not suggesting that we - that one of us is responsible for-”

“Who else? Razor sharp plates don’t just appear in people of their own accord.”

“I think,” Trey said. “It’s from the cake.”

“The cake?” Ruggie balked.

“It’s to separate the tiers, I think.” Trey nervously adjusted his glasses, falling back into something familiar to ground himself. “Bakers use them to keep the tiers from sinking into each other. Usually they’re not made of metal like that, of course. Look, the middle tier is already going down.”

They all looked over to the bar where the cake had been abandoned. Sure enough, the middle tier was leaning on one side, falling further into the bottom. There was a smear of frosting from where the separator plate had been yanked free.

“You didn’t make the cake?” Deuce asked.

“No,” Malleus answered for Trey. “I had it ordered to be delivered on board before we arrived. It was made by a local bakery near the station. I didn’t mean it as a slight, Clover. I didn’t want to distract anyone with work.” Trey lifted his hand, brushing away the concern.

The group quickly decided who would go up to the engine and who would stay behind. Malleus, Sebek, Vil, Jade, and Jack would go through the three other train cars up to the front, battering down the engine room door if they had too, while the rest of the group stayed.

“I don’t like this,” Ace said in a quiet voice to (Y/N). “Splitting up, I mean. It’s like no one’s ever seen a horror movie before.” Still, the group headed out in a solemn mood.

Someone had draped Lilia’s dark blue and lime green pinstripe suit jacket over him. It bulged awkwardly over the plate stuck in his spine. (Y/N) swallowed hard at a sudden wave of nausea.

The dining car was quiet, filled with the sounds of the wheels chugging underneath them and the whispered conversations of those left behind. Every once and a while there would be a muffled cry and sniff. No one really seemed to know what to do with themselves, ever switching before sitting stone still, fidgeting, or pacing around the car.

(Y/N) spotted Cater sitting on the floor near the door where they had entered, legs spread out in front of him, eyes locked on his phone. His forehead was creased in concentration, teeth worrying his lower lip. She tapped Leona’s arm so he could let her slide out of the booth and walked over to him.

“Cater?” (Y/N) asked.

Cater didn’t look up from his phone. He kept tapping it, dragging his finger to restart a video, watching, then rewinding it again.

“Cater?” She said again. This time he startled, looking up.

He flashed a warm smile that felt out of place in such a dour setting. “Hey, yeah, what’s up?”

‘What’s up?’ (Y/N) thought. Out loud, she said, “What are you watching?”

He showed her the screen as she sat next to him. “It’s the video I was taking earlier, when we were singing to you.”

(Y/N) felt a lump form in her throat. She watched everyone’s happy faces on the tiny screen, dread sloshing in her stomach in anticipation of what she knew was coming. The flickering lights, the black out, a murder in the dark. Right on cue, the screen turned black. She almost felt like she could see movement from the camera swinging around in confusion, the lens rapidly trying to adjust to the new lack of light. She closed her eyes hard, fighting back a lightheaded feeling.

Cater drew his phone back. “Sorry, I get that you wouldn’t want to see that.”

“I don’t understand,” She said, voice cracking. She sat down hard next to him. “Who would do this? How, even? He’s on the same level as Hornton, magic wise, I can’t imagine anyone sneaking up on him. And why?” Hot tears bubbled along her lashes. Cater put an arm around her and pulled her close. “I don’t understand.”

“Neither do I,” Cater said. “That’s why I was watching this. When I had my flashlight on, I thought I saw something weird. I’ve been trying to find it again. Maybe it could be a clue. Do you…Want to see?”

She pressed her lips together hard. Finally, she gave a stern nod. Cater shuffled closer, holding the phone back up to play the video from the beginning.

The camera swung up as the video started. It swept over the car, showing everyone smiling and jovial. A few of them stood, taking their positions as Jack and Rook collected the cake. (Y/N) saw Lilia catch the eye of the camera, giving a wink and waving. She gulped hard. Their singing came out in low, tinny volume from the phone speakers. (Y/N) felt strange as she watched the lights flicker, knowing what was about to happen, watching her own face blink and look up in confusion. Even though she knew it was coming, she still startled a little as the screen suddenly went black. The camera swung around in the dark, black shapes against a black background. Cater’s phone light turned on, sweeping across the room to briefly illuminate blurred figures. Shortly after, the lights came back on. Cater had focused back on (Y/N)’s table. She could see the smear on the cake frosting already, even though it was still being held up. Her heart dropped in her stomach as she heard Kalim’s scream. The camera whipped around to Lilia’s booth, just in time to catch Jamil leaping across to drag Kalim to safety. She saw herself fall in front of the booth, looking up at Lila. The camera focused on the scene for a handful of chilling seconds, before dropping down to the floor and cutting out.

“Did you see something?” She asked. She pointed at the screen, just after the phone light came on.

“Maybe? I think so, that’s why I was watching it back. I just can’t figure it out.”

“Well, two pairs of eyes are better than one, right? Play it again.” Cater pulled back on the recording. The video played out the same two more times. On the third, (Y/N) stopped him.

“Wait!” She said suddenly. “Go back! Just a few seconds.” Cater slowly pulled back the replay, the dark scene reversing frame by frame. “There! See?” She jabbed a finger at the screen.

Cater squinted. “I don’t see anything.”

“Exactly! That’s Lilia’s seat! He was there before the lights went out, and he was there when they came back on, but he’s not there when it’s dark!”

“Oh!” Cater said, excited. His face fell again. “What does that mean?”

“I… Have no idea. But it has to be important right? Was he still sitting at the booth before he was…” ‘Say it,’ (Y/N) thought. ‘If you’re going to have any chance of finding out what happened, you have to say it.’ “Before he was killed? Does that mean that someone moved him?”

Cater looked back down at the screen. “The lights were only off for-” He checked the video timeline. “Eleven seconds. I turned my flashlight on after about 6 seconds, here, see?”

“So not a very big window of time. And look, Kalim is sitting next to Lilia by the window and Epel is standing on the outside next to him. How would they have not noticed if he was moved?”

Cater bit his lip again. “You know,” He said slowly. “There’s something else that I-”

“Did I miss eating cake?” Silver said. He was rubbing his eyes, blinking at everyone’s shocked stares.

“Silver,” (Y/N) started, after several moments of tense silence. She felt responsible, somehow. That because it was her birthday party, she was the reason Lilia had been put into the exact right, or wrong, circumstances that lead to his death. She stood, holding her hands up as if she was going to confront a terrified animal. “It’s… I’m sorry, Lila is…”

“Father?” Silver asked. He stood, looking around the room. “Is he with everyone else? Where did they go?”

“No, Silver, I don’t know how to say this, but, but he-”

“(Y/N)!” Cater hissed, jumping up, fingers digging into her arm. She turned to him, Cater pointing frantically to the booth where Lilia’s body was. Or, rather, where Lilia’s body had been.

The seat was empty. Lila was gone.

Everyone immediately started looking around. (Y/N) knew it was useless from the beginning, but joined in anyway. What else were you meant to do when your recently deceased friend disappeared from a small room with only one door out?

“It’s just like the video!” She said. “Maybe this is the way he was moved during the blackout.”

“What video?” Jamil asked. (Y/N) and Cater told everyone about Lilia disappearing before, everyone crowding around the phone to see the video.

Silver gasped at the end, showing Lila’s body. “That…” He started. He shook his head. “No, that’s not real, it can’t be. Father wouldn’t-” He started blinking fast, looking around. “I need to find him.” Silver pushed his way out and barrelled through the door to the next car.

“We should go find the others anyway,” Riddle said. “To let them know about Lilia.”

“I’ll go,” (Y/N) volunteered.

“I’m coming with you,” Leona said. “I don’t know what’s going on here, but I don’t want you or anyone else alone.” Ace, Deuce, Cater, and Epel also volunteered.

The next car was a viewing car. The entire upper half was made of glass with a series of swiveling round backed chairs lining the sides. It would have been a beautiful place to spend the evening counting stars and watching the moon rise. The dark night outside seemed to encroach on their group and they rushed through the car to the next. The next car was a luggage car, stuffed with packages and cases from previous voyages. The lights were off. Leona flipped the switch several times, clicking uselessly.

“Watch your step,” He said.

The luggage car was stuffed with crates and pallets among other suitcases and hat boxes. A rough path had been cut through the center, and they had to walk single file. The light was hazy, only filtering in through the small windows in the doors at the front and back of the car.

“So,” Ace started, trying to break the unnerving silence. “Any idea how Lila could have been moved?”

“Maybe there’s some sort of hidden hallway?” Deuce theorized. “Or like a service entrance?”

“Isn’t that kind of a trope?” Epel said. “Secret passages?”

“That feels more like an old mansion sort of thing than a train, like Ramshackle,” Deuce said, “I can’t imagine there’d be any room.”

“I’ve found a couple, actually, in Ramshackle” (Y/N) said. “There’s one behind the bookcase in the guest room that leads upstairs. I think I might make it a second guest room, too, since it-” (Y/N) was cut off as she tripped. She caught herself just before she tumbled down. “Careful,” She said, looking back and aiming her phone flashlight to see what she had tripped over. “There’s something-”

She stopped short, words withering in her mouth. Her light trailed up a shoe, leading to a leg that ended abruptly at a crate. She took a sharp step backward, crashing into a luggage cart. It rattled behind her, something heavy and warm falling against her arm. Her heart already thundering, she turned to push it off. Only to be met by Jade’s face, lips going blue, eyes frozen open in shock, cut off at the waist in a pool of dark red, placed precariously on top of a suitcase.

She screamed, throwing herself backward, Epel clumsily catching her as they both stumbled away from the corpse. Panic quickly overtook the group as, between yelps and thundering hearts, they sped through the rest of the car, throwing open the door at the other end and launching themselves across the divide and into the next car. Ace pressed his back tightly against the door of the car, as if he could physically bar the image of Jade’s bifurcated body from their minds.

“(Y/N)?” Vil said, looking over the blundering group. The rest of the first team that had left to find the engineer looked back at them, confused. Vil took in their smaller group, the wide eyes and gasping mouths. His expression flitted between a mix of frustration, concern, and terror. “What are you doing here?”

“It’s- It’s Jade!” (Y/N) said, hot tears spilling down her cheeks as her voice scratched her throat. “We found his body!”

“What?” Jack said, ears going flat. “He just left. Are you sure?”

“Yes, we’re sure!” Ace snapped. “He was cut in half!”

Malleus’s hand on (Y/N)’s tightened as he helped her stand. “That’s not possible. We only sent him back to you all a minute ago.”

“The engine is empty,” Sebek said gravely, waving his hand at the door at the other end of the car to the engine room. “Jade was going to go back to the dining car and let you all know.”

“What did I say?” Ace said. “You can’t let people split up like this.”

“Wait,” (Y/N) said, looking around. “Where’s Silver?”

“He’s not still asleep in the dining car?” Sebek asked.

“He woke up and we told him what was going on,” Epel said. “He, you know, didn’t take it well. He ran out of the car this way to try and find you guys and we came after him.”

“It’s not like there’s anywhere else to go,” Deuce said. “He couldn’t have vanished into thin air between the dining car and here.”

“Speaking of disappearing,” Ace said. “Where are Cater and Leona?”

“Maybe they went the other way out of the car? Back the way we came in?” (Y/N) said.

“I told you!” Epel said. “There has to be some kind of secret passage! Maybe they went the same way whoever took Lilia went.”

“Who took Lilia?” Malleus asked.

(Y/N) tried to quickly summarize what had happened after the first group left, from Cater’s video, to Lilia’s body vanishing, to Silver charging ahead, to detailing finding Jade’s body in the luggage car.

Vil sighed sharply and ran a hand through his hair. “As much as I hate to admit it, Ace is right-”

“Hey!”

“We shouldn’t stay split up. Let’s regroup in the dining car. The train has to stop eventually. Either we can contact the police when we stop at the next station or if we pass through an area with cell service.”

(Y/N) clutched Grim to her chest at the idea of going back through the luggage car. She felt oddly ridiculous, like a child with a well loved stuffed animal asking their parents to check the closet for monsters. But how could she not feel the rising panic bubble in her chest at the thought of seeing one of her friend’s bodies again?

She jumped as Malleus brushed his fingers against her shoulder. He gave her a small smile, offering his arm. “Close your eyes and we’ll go through quickly,” He said in a low voice.

(Y/N) swallowed hard, threading her arm through his and pulling close, Grim clasped so close the heat from the blue fire in his ears warmed her face.

Whatever quiet conversation there was ceased immediately as they stepped back in the dark car. Phone lights came out, casting ghostly search lights across the car, bouncing on and over the clutter of bags and boxes. (Y/N) closed her eyes tight, pressing her face in Malleus’s arm.

“Jade’s not here,” Jack said.

(Y/N)’s eyes snapped open. “What?” She looked around the dark and cramped space. Sure enough, every body inside was breathing. She let go of Malleus’s arm and took a step forward. “No, wait, he was right here. He was like, half way though, right? I tripped over his legs right here.” She pointed to the floor where Jade’s legs had been splayed out. Only… No, wait, was that the same crate she had seen before? She scanned along the narrow walkway through the car, trying to find the familiar box, but she couldn’t find anything that matched the morbid memory in her head. The cogs in her brain churned. It was dark, but had these boxes been moved? Was this the same path they had taken through the car the first time? She turned back to the other first years. “You guys saw him too, right? I’m not just imagining things?”

“No, he was definitely here,” Deuce confirmed. “And besides, you still have some, uh, blood, right here.” He tapped his shoulder.

(Y/N) lifted her hand, touching the spot Deuce had indicated. Her fingers came away sticky, a sheen of red coating them in the low light. Jade’s blood must have dripped when his upper body fell against her. She felt her stomach clench and flip.

“Jade wouldn't be the first person to disappear tonight,” Epel said.

As they made their way through the observation car, with still no sign of Cater or Leona, (Y/N) felt her panic rise in anticipation of what might greet them in the dining car. Her heartbeat roared in her ears, muting any other sound. She felt clammy, breaking out in a cold sweat as Sebek reached for the door to the next car.

“There you all are,” Azul said in a relieved sigh. “What did the engineer say?”

No one said anything, the group who had stayed staring at the group who returned until the silence stretched and stretched, taught and uncomfortable.

Floyd’s head poked out from a booth, where he had been playing a card game with Riddle, Ortho, and Idia. “Where’s Jade?” No one answered. Several of them started shifting uncomfortably. Floyd frowned, eyebrows coming together. He stood. “Where’s Jade?”

“He-” (Y/N) started. She felt like she had a responsibility to break the news.

“We don’t know that,” Sebek interrupted. “He wasn’t there.”

“Lilia’s not here either,” Ace snapped. “But we’re pretty sure he’s dead, too.”

Azul stumbled back, going green, Floyd jumping up, teeth gnashing. The car exploded in a cacophony of raised voices, panicked questions and sharp words flying around. With a sinking feeling, (Y/N) realized Cater, Leona, and Silver weren’t present. They had vanished, too. And, if the only other ones who had disappeared were dead, what did that mean for them?

“I need some fresh air,” She murmured. She let go of Malleus, stumbling to the door at the back of the car. She pushed it open, standing on the tiny balcony as the rushing wind pulled at her hair and dress. She gripped the intricate wrought iron fence around the balcony until her knuckles went bloodless. She took deep, gulping breaths of the cold night air until her lungs hurt. She slumped forward, pressing her sweaty forehead against the cool metal.

She nearly jumped out of her skin as a hand touched her back. She whipped around to see Ace holding his hands up.

“Sorry, sorry,” He said. “Should have said something first.” Deuce stepped out behind him, sliding the door closed.

“It’s okay,” She sighed. “I just… needed a second.” The two of them stood on either side of her, quiet as they stared out at the rushing landscape, train tracks blurring together into a solid road beneath them.

“Here,” Deuce said, offering her a handkerchief from his blazer pocket. “For the… blood.”

“Right, thanks.” She dabbed at the spot, trying to think of a way to explain to Professor Crewel how the dress he had worked so hard on had been stained. Even if it was able to be cleaned, she wasn’t sure she would ever want to wear it again. Her mind wandered for a second, until her hand froze, pressed against the damp spot on her shoulder. She pulled the handkerchief back, staring at the red stain. And then licked it.

“Whoa!” Deuce exclaimed.

“(Y/N)! Gross!” Ace cringed.

“It’s not blood,” (Y/N) said. She shoved the handkerchief at them. “See? It smells and tastes sweet. It’s like some kind of syrup colored red.”

Ace cautiously leaned forward and sniffed. “I’m not going to pretend I know a ton about merfolk biology, but I don’t think they have corn syrup for blood.”

“Did you lean against anything else?” Deuce asked.

“Not that I noticed.” She groaned, head falling into her hands.

“Curiouser and curiouser,” Ace muttered.

(Y/N) drummed her fingers against the railing. She stared down at the tracks rushing below them. Her eyes unfocused, trying to make her mind go blank instead of having every body and disappearance and unusual circumstance bounce around her head. Dirt and dust clouded behind the train, kicked up by the heavy wheels. Except… Suddenly, she jolted up so fast both Ace and Deuce jumped. “I need to check something,” She said. She spun around marching back into the dining car, the two boys close behind.

There were a couple of curious glances as she knelt by Lilia’s booth, everyone else keeping a wide berth from it. She looked underneath, running her hand along the bottom of the table, then across the booth seat, checking for any seams or latches. Her hand brushed along something soft on the edge of the table, where there was a smear of blue frosting.

“There was something in the video…” She said to herself. The idea itched in her mind. There was something missing, something she knew Cater must have noticed. Is that why he had been spirited away? But she had watched the same video with him multiple times. Wouldn't she have seen whatever clue she was sure was there?

Unless… The ideas crashed together all at once, almost too cluttered for her to organize them. Cater had been the only one with a light, the only one able to see around the darkened car. So, what if he saw something in the dark, something that wouldn’t show up on camera? Then, watching it back, the discrepancy would have subconsciously stuck out.

She pulled herself out from under the table, chewing on her bottom lip. She scanned the room. Her eyes passed over then jerked back to Jamil, setting down an empty glass on a side table. Tiny white sparkles flitted around the glass as it magically refilled.

Her hip jammed into the table as she whirled around, pulling her phone out of her bedazzled clutch. She grabbed a discarded glass from the table and drained it in two gulps. As she set it back on the table, she hit the record button on her phone, holding it close to the glass. The sparkling magic swirled around the glass, just as it had been doing all night.

“(Y/N)?” Riddle asked, confused.

She replayed the video, only a few seconds long. Sure enough, she watched the glass refill, but the magic around it was invisible.

Without a word, she whirled around and marched to the door to the observation car.

“Wait!” Ace called at her retreating back. “Come on, what have I been saying about splitting up?”

He, Deuce, and Grim followed behind her as she quickly moved through the next car to the luggage car.

“Epel was right,” (Y/N) called over her shoulder to them. “People don’t just vanish.”

“So you think there are secret passages?” Grim asked.

“Not exactly.” She pulled her phone out as they stepped into the luggage car, tapping her light on. She swept it around the room, dust motes floating in the air. “Back in my world, movies use a lot of cgi for special effects. But there are some older ones that use practical effects, puppets and makeup and stunts. They take a lot more work, but audiences also really like them, and they generally look better since they’re tangible, really there with the actors. Recently, some movies have been combining the two, computer generated images with physical props.”

“So?” Ace asked, confused.

“So,” She said. She stopped in front of a pile of luggage. She pushed them aside, not caring as they clattered in an untidy heap on the floor. Behind them was a wooden crate, a thin line of sticky red smeared along the bottom. “I think we’ve been thinking about this the wrong way. Whoever has been doing this is using a combination of methods, both magic and non-magic.”

“Magical murders?” Deuce said. “That’s like what the Arcane Special Defense Unit investigates.”

“But if they’re using magic to commit the murders,” Ace said. “Why use non-magic, too?”

(Y/N) crouched down, turning the crate around. Her heart clenched in her chest as she revealed a hole cut into the cut just above the bottom. “I think I might have an idea, but…” But she didn’t want to say it out loud. She didn’t want to admit she was suspecting one of her friends. She didn’t want to admit that one of them might, in fact, be capable of something like this.

Grim groaned. “Why does this kind of stuff always happen to us?”

“Don’t be dramatic,” Ace said.

“I mean,” Deuce said, rubbing the back of his head. “He’s kind of right. There’s Overblots, that monster in the mines, kidnappings, that one Halloween in the Spectral Realm, that other Halloween in Fleur City where our magic got eaten, the VDC, that one time there was a magical virus and we all got turned into kids, not to mention all the potion accidents in alechemy class-”

“Wait!” (Y/N) shouted. “Say that again!”

Deuce looked confused. “Uhh, that we kind of seem to attract trouble everywhere?”

“No, about Halloween! That’s it! I’ve got it!”

“You know who the murderer is?” Grim asked.

(Y/N) was grinning way too big for such a morose topic. “Yes! And I think I know where everyone who disappeared is. But I need help from you guys. Have you ever heard of a parlor scene?”

(Y/N) explained her revelation to the boys, quickly giving them instructions to meet back with her in the dining car later. Separating, (Y/N) stopped in the observation car, taking a deep breath. Then, she flung the door open, striding into the room.

“Alright, everyone!” (Y/N) said sternly. “It’s time we wrap this whole thing up!”

“You know who killed Jade and Lilia?” Azul asked, eyes red.

“In a way,” (Y/N) said. She clasped her hands behind her back, walking through the room. “Let’s start from the beginning of the night. First, we all board a train with no conductor. The cake is made with a dangerous metallic disk, brought on board before all of us arrived. The lights just so happen to all go out at the exact moment we enter a dark tunnel, giving the murderer the perfect opportunity to strike. The crime, then, must have been planned ahead of time by someone who knew the exact route, timing it perfectly to when the cake would have been closest. Then we’re separated, leading to a locked room where Jade is murdered. Not just that, but cut in half and placed in such a way that should have taken way longer than the brief time he was unaccounted for. And none of that accounts for the disappearances, of both the deceased and the theorized living. We’re on a moving train, the only entrance and exit carefully monitored by those in the car, so it would, or should, be pretty obvious if anyone were trying to sneak out, especially if they were carrying someone.

“Our culprit, then, is someone who has had complete and perfect control of the train and those on board the entire time we’ve been here. Someone who not only smuggled the murder weapon in, who knew we were isolated, who knew when the train would enter the tunnel, who purposefully separated us to orchestrate the second murder, and who has the ability to make multiple people vanish into thin air.”

Everyone was getting restless, shuffling and looking around, casting suspicious looks at the only person (Y/N) could be referring to. (Y/N) took one more steadying breath. Facing the culprit straight on, she lifted an accusing finger. “The only possibility is you, Malleus Draconia!”

There was a collective gasp as Sebek jumped up, inserting himself between (Y/N)’s allegation and his prince. “How dare you!” He shouted.

Malleus’s eyes were steely cool as he looked down at her. “Oh?” He said. “That’s quite the accusation, child of man. I do hope you have evidence to support your theory.”

(Y/N) looked at Malleus with a scowl, hands on her hips. Before long, her lips twitched as she started to laugh. She whipped away a stray tear with the heel of her hand. “Hornton, you really have a twisted sense of humor, you know that?”

Sebek’s head whipped back and forth between the two, Malleus joining in with her laugh. “Wait, what? My lord, you, did you really…?”

“It might seem pretty complicated on the surface, but it’s actually pretty simple, just like a lot of old fashioned murder mysteries,” (Y/N) said. She turned, shouting out, “Okay, come on in, boys!”

Through the door that led to the end of the train, Ace, Deuce, and Grim burst in, dragging Lilia, Jade, Cater, Silver, and Leona with them.

“Hello, everyone!” Lilia said jovially. “I do hope you haven’t been having too much fun without me.”

There was a blur of teal and black as Floyd launched himself across the car, tackling Jade in a squeezing hug. He started sobbing, fat, dramatic tears now freely flowing down his face.

“My,” Jade said, eyes touched with compassion, petting his brother’s hair. “I wasn’t expecting such a welcome.”

“Jade,” Azul said, trying to sound stern despite the crack in his voice. “If you ever do something like that again, I’ll fry you up and add unadon to the menu.”

Jade placed a hand to his chest. “Aww, you do care.”

Kalim was jumping between Cater and Lilia, hugging them close, holding their faces to double and triple check they were unharmed, and babbling through tears.

“So,” Leona said, carelessly dropping into a booth, hands behind his head, a smug smile on his face. “I guess everything went according to plan?”

“Does anyone want to fill us in on what is going on?” Idia asked desperately.

“Gladly,” (Y/N) said. “That’s the point of a parlor scene, after all, pointing out the culprit and explaining exactly how they committed the crime. First, we need to establish that almost everyone who disappeared was an accomplice.”

“Almost everyone?” Jack asked.

Cater shyly raised his hand as (Y/N) said, “Cater was the odd one out, but I’ll get to that in a second. Before we even got to the train station, Malleus had recruited Lilia, Leona, Silver, and Jade to his plan. He’s the one who had the metal disk brought in with the cake, a cake he specifically ordered. And speaking of the disk, Lilia, do you still have it?”

With a smirk and a flourish, Lilia produced the silver disk, bloody colored corn syrup cutting across it in a gorey line. He ran his finger along the edge before pressing an almost invisible button in the middle. The side of the disk suddenly compacted, retreating in so the disk became a half circle.

“I’m guessing it’s some kind of stage prop,” (Y/N) continued. “It looks perfectly solid and deadly until you activate the hidden mechanism. Lilia himself was the one who retrieved the disk from the cake, since he has amazing night vision. There was a smear of frosting under the table where you must have brushed your hand after getting the disk, Lilia. But, this was also the reason Cater got involved.” (Y/N) held out her hand and Cater handed her his phone, the incriminating video already pulled up. (Y/N) held the phone up, panning it around the room so everyone was able to see. “Lilia wouldn’t have been able to simply walk over to the cake, he was boxed in by Kalim and Epel, not to mention everyone else standing around. So, he teleported. But there’s a problem. When Lilia or Hornton teleport, there’s these magic green sparks. Since Cater was already looking around to film, he would have seen these sparks. But he wasn’t paying close attention to such a small detail while we were all in a panic with the lights going out. When he watched the video back, they would have stuck out subconsciously in his mind and it would have been confusing as to why the video didn’t perfectly match up with his memory. And that’s because those kind of magic sparks don’t show up on camera. Eventually, Cater would have connected the discrepancy, possibly revealing the whole plot early, which is why he had to go.”

Cater shrugged. “I literally figured it out as soon as we got in the luggage car. Too bad Leona here tackled me out of the way.”

“I can’t believe you went along with one of Malleus’s plans,” Ruggie grumbled, casting a strong side eye at Leona.

Leona shrugged nonchalantly. “It gave me a chance to get a nap between everything. And I thought it would be really funny.” He grinned at Ruggie’s glare.

“If you’ll remember,” (Y/N) continued. “It was Hornton who suggested we separate and go try and find the engineer, an engineer he knew from the beginning wasn’t on the train. The whole point of splitting up was to get the next murder ready. Back in the dining car with the rest of us, Silver ‘woke up,’ when in reality he had been awake this whole time. He was meant to serve as a distraction, giving Lilia a chance to teleport away and set up Silver storming out to find the other group. At the front of the train, when everyone realized we were the only ones aboard, Jade would volunteer to go back. He and Silver would meet up in the luggage car and stage the next scene for us to find. There were boxes with holes cut out. Silver hid in one with his legs sticking out, exactly in the middle of the path so we would trip over them, and Jade stood in one so only his upper half was visible. The lights had been tampered with beforehand so it would be too dark for us to pay close attention, not to mention the added panic of thinking we had just found another one of our friends dead.”

Azul smacked Jade’s arm. “Why in the deep blue sea would you agree to something like that?”

“Oh, I’ve always wondered what it would be like to be dead,” Jade said with a smile.

“Ace, Deuce, Grim, Epel, and I all ran one way,” (Y/N) continued.

“While I’m guessing Leona grabbed Cater and went the other. As for how they disappeared, I’m guessing Lila had something to do with it, too.”

Lilia clapped his hands. “I did! I was waiting in the luggage car for you all. You wouldn’t have seen me hanging from the ceiling. Once you all had left, I grabbed the others and we teleported out to our hiding spot!” He stretched his back. “I had to make a few trips, though. These old bones aren’t as spry as they used to be.”

“But,” Ortho asked. “Where did you all go?”

“That’s the last secret,” (Y/N) said. “There’s a secret caboose car! When I was out on the balcony outside this car, I noticed that the dust jumping around was behaving oddly. If you paid close attention, you could see the dust and dirt swept up by the train bouncing off something invisible. My guess is there was a secret 5th car added to the end of the train that everyone was waiting in. That’s where I sent these guys,” She waved to Ace, Deuce, and Grim. “To find everyone.”

“You’re lucky we like you so much,” Ace said. “It was insane jumping off the back of the dining car when I couldn’t see where I was landing.”

“But…Why?” Vil asked, perfect mouth pulled into a perfect frown. “Why do all this? Why put us through all this stress? Why make us think we were trapped with a murderer?”

(Y/N) snapped her fingers. “That’s what I kept getting caught up on, too. When I started figuring everything out, that was the only part that didn’t fit. I couldn't, wouldn’t, believe that Hornton would intentionally hurt any of us. But then Deuce said something that made it all click.”

“Yeah!” Deuce said proudly. “What did I say, again?”

“Halloween! More specifically, the first Halloween I was at NRC. After we got rid of the Magicam Monsters, do you remember what happened?”

“We all went to the Spectral Realm,” Sebek said slowly. “Where we thought people had been kidnapped and possessed by ghosts.”

“Which turned out to be Malleus pretending to be possessed to gather us all together for a Halloween party,” Riddle finished.

“LIke I said,” (Y/N) said. “A twisted sense of humor.”

“But a murder?” Trey said, fiddling with his glasses. “That’s still pretty extreme.”

(Y/N) sighed. “And that’s the last part. This whole thing might be my fault. I’m guessing I gave you the idea, Hornton, when I was talking about that mystery novel from my world, Murder on the Orient Express?”

He smiled wide, eyes glittering in pleasure. “I thought it would be a fine surprise. Anyone can read a mystery. It’s another matter entirely to be in the middle of one. But there is one more thing you didn’t catch.” Malleus snapped his fingers. The blurring scenery outside warped and spun, like sand being shaken in an hourglass, before settling back down. He opened the door, revealing the train station they had all boarded from. “We never actually left the station.”

Everyone clambered out of the train, some much more quickly than others to put as much distance between themselves and it as fast as possible. Inside the atrium, there was a new cake, sans trick metal disks, with candles flickering gently. The cake was quickly sliced up and served as Malleus directed everyone back to the train platform. As the group ate cake, fireworks burst in the sky, casting glorious multicolored lights across their faces.

“Thank you, Hornton,” (Y/N) said. “This is beautiful. But-” She suddenly punched his arm, her face as serious as she could make it. “If you ever make me think that my friends are hurt or in danger again, I’ll make you regret it.”

“Of course, dear child of man.”

“Don’t ‘of course’ me. I’m threatening you. Be threatened.”

“Of course. Happy birthday, (Y/N), and many more besides.”

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Hello Miss Raven! I hope you're doing well. I wanted to ask.. About the new Vil's Birthday Grooovy. I'm curious about your thoughts since you make analysis for cards as well 😭

I'm so surprised when I just saw it-

I do write the occasional analysis for card illustration (which you can read here and here)! But I usually mark what is and isn't an analysis with tags. Most posts where I discuss card art + groovies are just opinion pieces! What is going ON at Twst HQ… 😭

On one hand, yeah, if you're going to do a sleepwear themed line, it makes sense to have... feet out. It's not like there weren't other scenarios where it made sense to have exposed feet. Leona has them out in his school uniform outfit all the time, the Scarabia dorm uniforms have sandals, the Beachwear boys and Silk Adorned boys had sandals as well. I think the difference for me is that in most of these cases, the footwear was not visible in their card art. The only exceptions are the initial artwork for Beachwear Floyd and Lilia + Silk Adorned Vil--but even then, they weren't egregious because Floyd's feet are blurred/out of focus, Lilia's are off to the left of the art and not front and center, and Vil's toes were cut off in the shot. Not the case for Relax in Room Floyd and Vil 💦 They're... very much there in full, centered and pretty detailed. It's a new angle for Twst, so it's very jarring.

Vil is a character that has extensive routines, which do involve yoga. So... in-universe, this composition for his groovy makes sense for him. The pose could have been something else for sure, but 💦 I'm sure some people must like this...? (Otherwise why would Twst make multiple of these?) But it's definitely not for me.

Feet aside, I was very shocked by. The Vil boobage 💀 It's not that his physique is different than what I thought it was (he takes care of himself and is clearly fit), I just... I DUNNO, IT'S SO DARING TO HAVE'M OUT LIKE THAT. (<- possessed by the spirit of Rollo) I know it's not the only time; his Luxe Couture outfit was low-cut too (and even his Beans Camo was pretty tight) sbdkhyuasareora I'm not used to it, I guess...

The suddenly detailed teeth, dramatically scattering the (fake) money, fucking expression… IT REAALLY iS THE SAME ENERGY 🫣

SO MANY TIMES… *clenches fist like Arthur*

I checked again and I think the count is closer to 4?? Ace and Trey I can kind of excuse since their feet aren't in the center of their artworks, but Floyd and Vil traumatized me OTL

Yeah, I've seen many Kakegurui jokes around Azul's Clubwear groovy... (One of them is right above this ask!) abhlafbaefiygriygina NOT IDIA ACTING LIKE A FUCKING DEVASTATED ANIME CHARACTER WHEN HE'S LOST AT A CHILDREN'S CARD GAME. I can practically hear his wailing and Azuk's gloating... Guys, calm down 💀 It's MONOPOLY. ... Side note, how the heck is all of Idia's hair fitting into that hood. Does the inside of that hood warp space and time or something???

Aaaahhh 💦 Thank you for checking in on me! I didn't want to make a big deal of it; the announcement was just meant to be a little bit of a blog update + explanation of where I'd be for a while--but I appreciate all the well wishes people have been sending in. Trying to not think too much about the areas they operated on! I think when I do, the discomfort flares www

[idrawweirdstuffnominors]

Can you do Josh headcanons of being a dad to a boy that’s really into horror?

(A mini pete

Josh Levy as a Dad to a Horror-Loving Son: Headcanons

He tries to hide his discomfort—but he’s so weirded out.

The first time his son says, “I like the monster more than the people,” Josh nearly chokes on his cereal. He stammers something like, “That’s… deeply concerning, but okay! We all have… tastes!”

He desperately tries to redirect the interest—at first.

“Hey buddy, instead of watching The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, how about we explore sci-fi horror? Like Alien! It’s scary, but there’s space!” His son just goes, “Okay. But only if we watch Hereditary after.” Josh turns pale.

Eventually, he caves and leans into it—but with heavy supervision.

“You can watch Poltergeist, but if you repeat one creepy line at bedtime, I’m calling a priest.” He ends up sitting through half the movies with a pillow over his face while his son is laser-focused and totally unfazed.

He 100% buys him horror merch and pretends he understands it.

“You wanted... the guy with the pins in his head? Sure, that’s not horrifying at all. Do you want the plushie or the mug?”

He accidentally bonds harder than expected.

They start watching horror classics together, and suddenly Josh finds himself getting into it. He’s overanalyzing symbolism and camera angles and ranting about practical effects like it’s his passion now.

He becomes the most defensive parent on Earth.

If another parent judges his son for being into spooky stuff? Josh goes on a long, mildly aggressive monologue:

“Maybe if your kid had a creative outlet, he wouldn’t be biting other kids during recess, Linda. Let mine paint his little zombie apocalypse in peace.”

He draws a HARD LINE at anything too gory.

“You’re not watching Saw until you’re, like, 25. I don’t care if you say it has ‘good traps.’ You can trap your imagination. That’s what you can do.”

Halloween becomes their Super Bowl.

Josh lets his kid go nuts with decorations—fake guts on the porch, sound-activated screams, the whole works. He acts annoyed, but he always wears a dumb themed costume like “sexy Dracula cape dad.”

They do horror movie marathons with “Dad-safe” zones.

The living room gets split into “Kid Zone” and “Josh’s Coward Corner,” complete with snacks, commentary, and a plushie Josh throws at the screen when jump scares happen.

He starts bragging to people about his “creepy little horror genius.”

“My son made a stop-motion zombie movie in third grade. Did your kid do that, or does he still just eat paste?”

He supports him, even if he’s not totally sure what’s going on.

Whether it’s helping build a haunted house in the garage or cheering at a school talent show where his son performs a dramatic reading of The Raven, Josh always shows up—nervous, confused, and wildly proud.

Absolutely! Josh Levy raising a horror-loving son? That’s a perfect mix of neurotic theater kid meets little weirdo energy. Here are some headcanons that show the chaos, heart, and slightly unhinged love:

He was not prepared.

Josh expected to raise a mini Trekkie or a comic book snob—not a six-year-old asking if they can “watch the one where the girl’s head turns all the way around.” He starts with “classic horror” like he’s teaching a film class.

“Okay, kid—if you must enjoy terrifying media, you’re gonna do it right. Black and white. Practical effects. No jumpscares-for-likes garbage.” They watch Creature from the Black Lagoon together. Josh pretends it’s boring, but secretly? He’s loving this little bonding thing.

He goes way too hard on Halloween.

Once he realizes this horror thing isn’t a phase, he leans in way too much. Their house becomes the house on the block. Fog machines. Props. An animatronic witch that made the neighbor’s toddler cry. Josh is proud.

He absolutely gets peer-pressured into horror cosplay.

His son: “You have to be Frankenstein. I’ll be the mad scientist.”

Josh: “Why can’t I be the scientist?”

Son: “Because you’re taller and have bolts in your neck emotionally.”

He has to learn to balance boundaries and weirdness.

Like when his son brings fake intestines to school or draws “a haunted daycare full of ghosts who can’t escape naptime.” Josh is like, “Okay, cool creative expression—but let’s maybe not show that one to your teacher yet.”

He starts writing horror parody bedtime stories.

Like Freddy Krueger But He Works at Trader Joe’s, or Jason Voorhees Goes to Therapy. His son howls with laughter. It becomes their thing.

He lowkey starts loving horror through his kid.

He still covers his eyes sometimes, still over-analyzes everything (“There’s no way that chainsaw would rev underwater”), but watching his son light up during a zombie makeup tutorial? That’s everything.

He gets protective about how his son enjoys horror.

He makes sure it never becomes mean-spirited. “Scary is fine. Cruel isn’t.” He teaches him to root for the Final Girls, to appreciate atmosphere over gore, and to never be that guy online.

And he’s so proud of how weird and specific his son is.

Even if he has to say things like,

“No, you cannot bring fake blood to show-and-tell again,”

or

“Yes, I do think your drawing of a vampire accountant is technically accurate.”

He’s still the dad in the theater aisle, whispering movie trivia and sneaking snacks, just as in love with this strange, spooky kid as he was the day he first held him.

[synnamonroll666]

Can you Josh x black female reader whose feeling a little insecure so they have mirror sex while he tells her especially and in GREAT detail what he likes about her??

Tell Me You're Beautiful

Pairing: Josh Washington x Black Fem!Reader Description: After a full day of no replies to his texts, Josh went to his girlfriend's house to find her hiding in her room. After learning that insecurities are keeping her in bed and none of the usual compliments working to cheer her up, he decided to show her how he sees her in a different way... Warnings: Angst, Reader Is Very Insecure, Self-Hatred, Smut, Soft Dom!Josh, Mirror Sex, Praise Kink, Unprotected Sex But No Creampie, Third Person POV, Specific Descriptions Of The Reader. (If I Missed Any Tags, Let Me Know.) Word Count: 2k A/N: I'm so sorry this too so long but if any of you follow me, you know I'm indecisive as fuck with editing. 😂 Also, someone requested another black fem!reader on my other blog, about Josh and the reader playing 7 minutes in heaven. They asked if I could make it spicy so I'm going to do that one on this blog instead since this is my smut one. So if that anon is reading this, just know that I did get your request and I am working on it. And to the anon who requested this fic, I hope you enjoy it. I may have went a little more dramatic with it than intended but I tried my best. 😅🖤 Main MasterList: 🖤 Synny's Angels: @lorebite, @koexchange, @yesitsloulou, @mistmoose, @jasonexo, @fortune-fool02, and @raven-the-cryptid. (If you want to be added to the taglist, let me know in the comments! 🖤)

𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐⭒𖤐

She laid curled up in bed, a large hoodie covering her form and a look of sadness pulling down her features. Her phone had been blowing up all day. Friends asked her to go on outings, and her boyfriend, who was concerned by her absence.

It was 3 p.m. when she heard a knock at her bedroom door. Figuring it was only her mother, she gave acceptance to them entering, only to be left dumbfounded when her boyfriend, Josh, came through with a very worried expression on his face.

"Josh, please! I need to be alone right now." She expressed this while pulling the blanket up her chest, subconsciously wanting to hide away from his watchful eyes.

"What's wrong, (Y/N)?" He asked while stepping into the room, despite her protest.

He immediately came to her side, concern evident in his features. He was always one to care—always so quick to throw everything out the window and run to her beck and call. He was always her hero, even if he was the one who needed saving. But that wasn't important now. What really mattered was fixing whatever had her so broken down.

"Please, (Y/N)... Tell me what's wrong." He practically begged, just hoping it was nothing too big that he couldn't fix. Even then, he would go to great lengths to at least make it better.

"It's just..." She choked out, her voice barely above a whisper, as her brown eyes gazed up at him through her tears. He nodded his head while taking her small hands in his own, urging her to continue. And with a deep breath, she finally got what's been killing her inside off her chest. "I can't stand myself..."

Josh could only respond with a quiet "Huh?" not fully understanding what she had meant. She shook her head, not wishing to elaborate but finally finding the words after releasing a subtle sigh.

"I can't even look at myself. I'm not like those girls in the magazines. I'm not special." She admitted it shamefully, wiping her tears away with the sleeve of her hoodie as she did so.

Josh understood these feelings. Despite his confident demeanor, he was just as insecure as most people. Hell, maybe even more. He hated that she felt this gut-wrenching feeling. However, he knew he could remedy this.

"You're wrong." He stated it firmly, his voice now so strong and confident, it caused her to do a double take back in his direction. "You're the most beautiful girl I have ever seen. Most guys would give their left nut to be with you."

She scoffed at his comment and rolled her eyes. "You're just saying that..."

Though she appreciated his efforts, it would take more to convince her just how beautiful she really was. Josh knew this and made a vow within his mind that he would do everything in his power to prove it to her—to make her see herself through his eyes.

"Stand up." He then demanded. The command took her by surprise, though she obeyed his order, standing to her full height. It didn't do much, though, as he still towered over her by quite a lot. His height was always something she admired about him. It made her feel safe.

He took her by the arm and pulled her in front of her full-body mirror. Her gaze dropped, reluctant to look at the image reflected before her. She didn't want to see it—the reflection of the girl she, unfortunately, was. Josh shook his head at this.

"Look." he demanded firmly.

A mere minute passed of her not daring to do what she was told before he grabbed her chin and forced her to look up. Though it was a startling gesture, his touch was soft and gentle, as if she were fine glass in his large hands. Her eyes began to tear up as she looked at herself, seeing nothing but flaws before her.

"Tell me what you see." His voice came out a little softer than before, but it was still nothing less than the demand he gave right before.

"Just a girl..." She responded, her voice barely above a whisper.

He shook his head again, slightly frustrated that she didn't understand what he was trying to show her. But he knew this would take more work. He knew what he had to do.

"Take your clothes off."

Her lips fell agape as she looked at his reflection, astonished that he would ask such a thing. Though she really didn't want to see herself naked, she was intrigued. Though the request was rather suggestive, the look in his soft, green orbs told a different story—one that told her that his intentions were not crude.

She pulled her hood back, the coils in her soft hair falling gracefully over her shoulder as she did so. His eyes lit up, and he reached out to tuck a few strands behind her ear to admire her face.

Then she pulled it over her head, revealing her white tank top beneath. His fingers grazed her soft shoulders as she toyed with the hem of her shirt, not knowing if she wanted to do such a thing at this moment.

"Show me," he coaxed her in a soft tone before pressing a soft kiss on her tear-soaked cheek.

With a shaky breath, she pulled her tank top over her head. Her soft breasts bounced slightly as they were freed from the confinement of their fabricated prison, and Josh couldn't help but smirk just a little as he watched. He was still a man, after all.

Then, she found the courage to remove her shorts and panties, throwing them on the floor in a messy pile with her hoodie and tank top. Without skipping a beat, Josh reached up and turned the knob on her lamp, putting her under what felt like a literal spotlight. Her stomach twisted into knots as she folded her arms across her chest, not wanting Josh to see her flaws that were so obvious under the bright light.

But then she felt his hands on her shoulders once more, squeezing ever so slightly. She looked up to see him watching her through the mirror, his eyes glimmering with love. He removed one hand from her shoulder, and soon, the sound of a belt buckle being opened was heard.

She didn't know how she ended up in this situation anymore, but something about it felt pleasant. She was with the man she loved. And though she was in this uncomfortable position, she knew she was in good hands.

Josh entered her from behind, letting out a trembling breath as he pushed every inch into her tight hole. She bit her plump lip, trying hard not to moan like a pornstar already. Though she knew it was something Josh loved.

Once he was inside her fully, he retracted his hips before pushing in again with more force. She almost fell forward—face nearly clashing with the glass before her—but Josh was quick to scoop an arm around her frame, pulling her close to his chest.

He found himself a steady rhythm and watched her reaction through the reflection, enjoying how her lips turned all pouty as she moaned or how her eyes went watery and lidded from the pleasure. That's when he decided to do his work. Of course, fucking her insecurities away wasn't going to work. He needed to do more.

He let his lips graze the shell of her ear and whispered, "Wanna know what I see?"

Her eyes opened at that, not knowing how to respond. She was still half-intoxicated by the arousal she felt to even comprehend exactly what he meant by that. Smirking at her distracted nature, Josh decided to continue anyway.

"I see a beautiful, strong goddess of a woman." He groaned, his breath hitching in his throat, when her soaked pussy squeezed him. It was clear she was enjoying the praise, so he continued on, wanting to show his girl just how amazing she was. "You're so soft—so tight. Everything about you is perfect."

Her cheeks warmed up from this treatment, flustering her mind and clouding it with something new besides pleasure. She wanted to collapse in his embrace—to just let go of all her worry and let him be the one to guide her to the light. Josh's words brought her back to reality for a short moment, only to send her crashing into bliss once more.

"The way your hair smells and feels," he said, burying his face into her soft coils, inhaling deeply to take in her scent.

"Your skin, the perfect shade of chocolate, and how it's just as sweet," he kissed her neck, his tongue swirling around the pulse, earning a heavenly moan from her trembling lips.

His hips faltered for a moment, as her sounds rang through his ears like the song of a goddess, the one he knew she was.

"How your gorgeous brown eyes reflect your warm personality." He grabbed her chin between his thumb and index finger once more to turn her head so he could gaze down into her orbs with a tender look to show his sincerity.

Her dark eyes brightened under the small light as she looked up at him, showing off all the beautiful shades of brown within her iris. They not only show the unique patterns but also her shimmering soul—like an angel in heaven's light.

"I love how they tell me your every want and desire." With that being said, he reached a hand down, two fingers brushing against her clit. The brief and subtle contact was enough to make her eyes roll into the back of her head, and his smile broadened, knowing damn well that he was successful. He pushed her face back to the mirror, holding it there to force her eyes on herself. "Now tell me how beautiful you are."

"I-I'm beautiful..." She murmured through ragged breaths, not realizing her words. It worked like some sort of hypnosis in a way, subconsciously putting the message into her mind through pleasure.

"Louder," he demanded, his fingers finding purchase on her swollen little bud to rub tight circles around it.

"I'm b-beautiful!" She groaned as her body began shaking under his intoxicating touch.

Josh gritted his teeth as his cock throbbed within her, begging for release. He was so close, but he knew she was as well. He wanted his angel to make it to the edge first, with the message of how amazing she was engraved in her mind.

"Louder!" He shouted through his clenched canines, pushing his cock harder and deeper within her with each sloppy thrust.

"I'm beautiful!" She cried out as tears streamed down her face.

And like a wildfire, that intense sensation burning within her core spread throughout her body. He held her close as she rode through her high on his dick, keeping her in his warm embrace as he worked her through it.

When she squeezed his member, he couldn't hold on any longer. He pulled out and released his load onto her ass, nearly cumming a second time from how hot the sight was before him. It was like marking her, in a way—claiming her as his.

As he admired her body while coming down from his high, her eyes remained on herself through that reflection on the now-steamy glass. She wiped her hand over the cool surface to clear her vision of herself, and she continued to stare as her chest rose and fell with each soft breath she took.

"I'm beautiful..." She whispered, now believing that statement as it fell from her lips.

Josh wrapped his arms around her frame after brushing a few stray coils from her face. He pressed a soft kiss on her temple and then rested his head atop hers while gazing into her warm eyes through the mirror.

"You're not just beautiful," He murmured, admiring the goddess in his grasp and all her stunning features. "You're perfect, babe."

⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒⛥⭒

[hamliet]

Mafia Sports Melodrama: The Sequel

Which is really a sequel trilogy to All for the Game but only the first two are out, so that's what I'll be reviewing.

Much like the first trilogy, melodrama is the name of this game. Accept it or leave. And I love it, because while it's flawed, it's not a bad series. People are drawn to it for the same reasons people are drawn to melodrama in general: it reveals emotional realities and contrasts them with possibilities about the limits of humanity, and that is inherently fascinating.

I really enjoyed Jean's development, and his inner monologue. The prose has improved quite impressively from the original trilogy, and it's especially noticeable in how Jean's POV is written. Intrusive thoughts are intrusive. Comforting thoughts are punctuated to show peace and calm.

Jean is of course the essential wooby who has been through everything from waterboarding to human trafficking to assault. But his self-hatred and non-existent self-esteem make sense and again, like with Andrew's issues in the first trilogy, feel real from a viscerally emotional standpoint. No matter how dramatized it is, no matter how hyperbolic, there are elements of true humanity in there that allows the author to explore the limits of the human capacity for healing.

I was also truly drawn to Jeremy as a character, which I wasn't expecting. Listen, sunshine boys are not usually my favorite archetype. But his complicated background was genuinely interesting and heartbreaking. Essentially my thoughts on JEremy are summed up here:

“...they’ve always brought out the worst in me.” “It makes you more interesting,” Jean said... “Not your capacity for unkindness, but how fiercely you fight against it.”

Jeremy's backstory involving politics and law enforcement also felt, well, fitting for today. Prescient, if you will, despite being set in 2007. And the way his family's cage holds him back is intriguing because it mirrors Neil's predicament in the first series (also Nicky's).

Both are captives of their families. Jeremy stays at home and tries to be a good son, knowing at a deep level he will never be accepted. Neil was on the run from his family, but he knew he couldn't run forever. But both of their fathers--or stepfather, in Jeremy's case--ultimately want to take them apart at the seams for ruining their image.

The power they wield they use for petty grudges and sadism. The ultimate reality is that politics, despite its shiny exterior and inviting cameras, is run similarly to the mafia underworld. Which. Well.

I also think Jeremy's struggles with self-esteem foil Jean's in interesting ways. Unlike Jean, who was abused and self-harms, Jeremy mixes pleasure with self-harm. He sleeps with people who, as Laila accurately points out, degrade and even harm him.

“Would it kill you to fuck someone who respects you?”

Look, degradation is fine if that's what you're into, but it's pretty clear Jeremy is not into it. His conversation with Ivan (whose name is literally Jean but in Russian, by the way; yes the names were meaningful here too) was pretty clear that Jeremy doesn't like being insulted but hasn't the self-esteem to walk away.

“...we both know you’re a shameless slut.” “Says the man who invited me here,” Jeremy said, cool enough that Faser laughed. “Can’t make up my mind. Either he’s as a big a whore as you are, or the Ravens are using your history to destroy his reputation...” Jeremy pulled Faser’s hand free. “I didn’t come here to gossip about Jean. If that’s all you want from me, I’ll just leave.”

If Jean realizing how wrong what was done to him was hits him only through seeing it through Elodie's suffering and through others, then Jeremy also is being warned to realize how wrong what he's doing to himself is when he's angry that Jean is being slut-shamed but accepts it as the best he deserves.

Side Characters

I know Riko is dead, but I did enjoy the humanizing note that while Riko would like to have killed Wymack, he couldn't do it because there was a part of him that desperately wanted a father, and he couldn't take that from Kevin. I maintain my interpretation that Riko had a ton of internalized homophobia thanks to his family that he directed into torturing Jean. The man's feelings for Kevin are barely even possibly platonic, and the only reason they are is because Riko clearly sees Kevin as a replacement for Ichirou, and Kevin leaving (even though he needed to leave) reinforces that abandonment idea. Dude was awful but is still tragic.

Coach Rhemann is wonderful. I liked that he turned out to be queer too, showing Jean that there is nothing wrong with him and that he can find love. The scene where Jean breaks down in his arms is very Good Will Hunting, but also very beautifully done. He and Wymack are amazing dads to their teams, even if they have very different perspectives and personalities.

While it's true that the sprawling cast means a lot of the Trojans are merely names--even among the 'floozies'--they are all likable. Cat and Laila are of course the standouts. I adore their friendships with Jeremy and with Jean, and much like Dan and Matt's relationship, even though they are an established couple with little drama, they have enough chemistry and development to make the reader root for them as a couple.

I also really loved Lucas's character, despite in initially disliking him, and I love Cody. Though Cody's throuple situation is something I'm apathetic about because we just don't know enough about Pat and Ananya and what they bring to Cody's life for me to root for it or against it. Tanner is adorable, as are Derek and Derrick (rooting for Cherise too!). I quite like Xavier too, but again, I wish we got a tad more from Min to see what the core of their relationship is like--kind of like we did for Seth and Allison, or Aaron and Katelyn. Even if neither got a major focus, they got something. Xavier/Min and Ananya/Pat are just names at this point.

Critiques

One critique I have related to the "timeliness" aspect is that it does read like a 2025 novel set in 2007. Which it is, but it's a noticeable difference from the original trilogy, which was published in like 2013 but captured exactly what 2006-07 American culture was like, specifically in regards to phone usage. Here there are a few too many reliances on text messages and emojis and such for me to entirely see it as authentically 2007. However, this doesn't detract from any of the novel's strong points, so it doesn't really matter.

Another critique I have is related to Nathan's "trial." That's just not how the legal system works, because the dude is, like, dead. They're not going to try everyone involved all at once. A grand jury, maybe, but that's not a trial. Okay, okay, I get that colloquially they're calling it his "trial," but yeah lol.

But "how things work" has never mattered in this universe, and frankly a lot of the stories I love most don't rely on that either. So yeah, it's a foible. Oh well.

For The Broken Cage:

I really need to see Bryson face a confrontation--there's been a ton of build-up in conflict between him and Jeremy. It has to explode at some point. I also want to see Joshua. He's the only sibling of Jeremy's who hasn't really appeared, and we know he was extremely close with Noah.

I want to see Joshua and Jeremy work it out if possible, but he's still such a question mark I'm not sure where Joshua is going. However, I do want Jeremy to tell off the rest of his family and for William to quit on Jeremy's way out the door. He needs to choose Jean over them, and I believe he will.

For Jean's part, I do want Jeremy to find out exactly what Zane did to Jean in terms of betrayal. I'd also like him to find out Jean was sold to the Moriyamas, and the waterboarding to be revealed too... and maybe for Jean to make some progress in overcoming his fear of water, but that can only happen if he's upfront with Jeremy about what caused the fear.

And, I want to see Jean tell Jeremy about Elodie. Of note, it's most likely she's dead but... no body no death, and that's a common trope in mafia stories.

Lastly, I need a sex scene between Jeremy and Jean. Sex is a major factor in both of their traumas, and I would like to see them start healing together.

I don't know if I want to see the Trojans winning the championships... mainly because I don't want to see the Foxes lose lol. But I'm open to it! Sorry Kevin, I have chosen my colors and they are orange and white.

Kevin Duology

But speaking of Kevin...

I quite liked the set-up with Kevin's budding alcoholism. I really want this to be a focus in a coming Kevin duology, even if I think one is a prequel and one is a sequel. I presume the sequel would be the one addressing this, but it's significant enough of a problem in The Golden Raven that it has to be addressed.

And maybe we'll get a flashback to the scene of Kevin telling Wymack he's his dad because I need that.

But related to looking forward to Kevin's story while also reviewing Jean's trilogy...

Are we supposed to like Thea Muldani? Because I want to like her. I was excited to see a character with a Sindhi surname (she's described as Black but biracial with a Black mom, and I'm assuming her father is South Asian given the name?). I don't even dislike Riko, who is objectively the worst!

I just... don't. I'm not even apathetic to her; I dislike her. And it takes a lot for me to dislike a flawed female character. Before starting Jean's series, I saw a ton of hate for her, and I chalked it up to people being grumpy about their ships and the like, plus some misogyny and racism. Which still is likely a factor, to be clear.

Just--in neither of the three scenes she's appeared in, one per book, has she given me the remotest reason to like her as a character, much less to root for her and Kevin together. The first scene in The King's Men was kind of cute, but told me nothing about her, so much like the Cody-Ananya-Pat situation, I was apathetic but optimistic about learning more.

Then we get the two scenes in Jean's stories and hoo boy.

Andrew at least had his loyalty to Kevin early on; Aaron had his protecting his brother. Thea has had no 'save the cat' moment at all. Her anger at Kevin for shutting her out in the original trilogy was fine, but it was neither here nor there for establishing their relationship dynamics or her character stakes. And if the author intends for them to end up together in an eventual Kevin duology, I frankly think it'll be too late even if she's given a great redemption arc. These two scenes are very hard to come back from.

I'm also not against a het relationship in this series, and I do think a lot of fandoms wherein series have m/m relationships have, er, hate boners for female characters that are completely nonsensical. I was actually initially disappointed that Renee and Jean didn't work out, and I loved Dan and Matt, and even Allison and Seth in their short story.

But there is zero reason to care about Thea at this point and a lot of reasons to dislike her. Her entry is literally victim-blaming Jean for being assaulted. Her second scene in The Golden Raven is even worse. I get that Kevin is using her to destroy the image of the Ravens, but for pity's sake, her words cost THREE people their lives. Three! Are we supposed to assume she didn't know that was a risk, when Jean knew it? Are we supposed to assume this will make her doubt the Ravens' methods, when the previous string of suicides and attempts didn't give her pause?

Look, I do think Thea is very, very clearly a victim of brainwashing. As someone who grew up in a cult, I've met Theas before. I am interested--very interested--in a potential redemption for her. That could be a mega-compelling story. But it would have to be the main focus of the story, and I honestly don't know what it would take to get me to root for her and Kevin to end up together, or if that's even possible. It's kind of too late?

Idk, I know that the author's talked about how things have changed and such from her original drafts, and we can see a few modifications to the material in the Extra Canon content in Jean's trilogy. I'm hoping she reconsiders Thea ending up with Kevin, because sometimes what you intend to write just doesn't work. And I don't know if this can work.

All that to say, I do think there's probably an element of misogyny and even racism in Thea's hate train, but she is also just a very poorly done character at this point. Even just having her in the background of Kevin's novel wouldn't work at this point, because the author's written herself into a corner with Thea. The only way to handle her is have a brutal, soul-searching redemption, and even then it might not be enough for people to accept a relationship.

[mokkkki]

the way you write is so beautiful... tips for somebody new to writing who wants to write like you?

YOU are so beautiful, thank you so much! im not sure about any tips i have, but ill give it a shot. these are what i personally believe to have been the most important things:

find your wavelength my writing became a lot more stylized and personalized after i found an author that i resonated with, as well as a couple of themes. it just helps to know what you are actually interested in writing in, versus what you think other people would like to read. im personally interested in writing about relationships and dynamics, so my writing will always be more character than action driven. also, it helps, because youre always going to end up writing what you want to write, even in the smallest of ways, so why not embrace it fully? write what you want to read. otherwise, you wont have fun. and writing is SO MUCH FUN. knowing what youre into and what youre trying to channel gives you a really strong basis for all of your writing - not only will it take time for you to find your wavelength, meaning that youll have to expose yourself to many different genres and authors, which is a must, youll always be able to look back at that ONE creative piece and grab some motivation from it.

expose and explore creativity is everywhere - tv shows, movies, books, fanfics, comics, art, architecture, history (!!!), mythology, sports, reality - literally everywhere you can think of. dont wait for inspiration because its everywhere if you look hard enough. familiarize yourself with the seven basic plots, the thirty-six dramatic situations, basic foreshadowing elements, and other essentials. this isnt something to study or memorize, just to KNOW - its good to be aware of the foundations of literature.

embrace the brainrot and maintain a balance become obsessed w your own ocs, your own plots, your own everything. be your own biggest fan. to enter an abusive relationship with your own work is extremely upsetting, because youre doing wrong by the wonderful world youve made, and doing wrong by that part of you that just wants to be creative, too - and if that happens, its probably because you arent writing what you want to write, or controlling what doesnt want to be controlled. let your characters be individuals, let them go where they want to go, just follow and note what theyre doing. sometimes writing is a passive activity rather than active creation, and thats okay! thats when you know youve built a solid world that can run by itself and you just contribute to. that being said, while theres nothing quite like the hours spent ravenously typing, you need to find a balance. you are as important as your work, because without you, the work wouldnt exist. i also reccomend forcing yourself NOT to write on specific days. some ideas need to marinate, and some people need to rest.

i hope this was helpful &lt;;3 if you ever need more help (and this also applies to those reading), feel free to reach out! im open to being a beta reader or just a brainstorming partner. lots of love!

[villainbait]

Moonlight Secrets

Pairing: Sylus x MC / fem!reader Rating: PG-13 Tags: MAJOR story spoilers, emotional hurt/comfort, hurt/comfort, romance, romantic overtures, angst, tension, secondhand embarrassment, grief mention, kissing, canon sylus behavior Summary: Sylus can't give you the answers you seek, but he can offer you the next best thing: a distraction from your grief. Word Count: 1.2k Alternate link: AO3

The brilliant, sunny day Linkon City offered might have felt warmer if you weren’t feeling so lonely watching everyone have picnics in the city park. It was on a lovely summer day like today where you, grandma, and Caleb used to pack up your own basket and make a trip to your favorite spot in this same park. That was before the accident. Now, you spend your afternoons ensuring the safety of Linkon’s citizens instead, and your only warmth is the memories you carry of those moments. 

Your phone rings, interrupting your thoughts. It’s Sylus and you think about not picking up but it might be important. He doesn’t bother with hello, but his unnerving way of greeting you doesn't disappoint. 

“Why do you look sad?” He asks, then chuckles when you don’t answer. “…Now you look angry.” 

“Who wouldn’t be angry knowing that they were being watched?” You huff in exasperation, but you’re not truly mad. You’d never admit it, but there was a strange comfort in knowing that Sylus was watching you more often than not. 

“If you don’t want to tell me,” Sylus drawled lazily. “Why don’t you tell me who that young, handsome, raven-haired doctor-” 

You cut him off, not wanting to answer that question even less than the first.

“I was sad about the people picnicking in the park, but I’m fine now.” 

“Why?” He doesn’t sound like he cares and maybe he doesn’t, but you answer him with sincerity anyway. 

“This is the time of the year I usually do–well, did stuff like that with Grandma and Caleb. You know, before…” You trail off, hoping he gets the hint. You don’t want to blame Sylus when you don’t actually know whether he was responsible or why it happened, but that doesn’t stop you from mourning what was lost and feeling frustrated he wouldn’t give you the answers you desperately seek. 

The silence on the other end of the line is heavy. 

“I see,” Sylus finally says quietly, if for nothing else than to fill that silence. You lean against the fence and look out over the park, watching as some kids tumble over each other to grab a runaway ball. Silence falls between you again and it was hard for you to fill it without sounding bitter so you didn’t. 

There was a soft clattering in the background on Sylus’s end of the line and he murmurs softly, “I have to go.” “Sure.” you answered just as quietly, and the line disconnects with neither of you saying goodbye or with well wishes of safety. You stare at his contact for a long time, your thoughts your own until a bouncy ball rolls into your boot. The kids come running over, laughing and tripping over each other in their haste to get to the ball first. You smile and kick the ball up into your hand. 

“Throw it back, lady!” One of them crows and they all hold their hands up ready to catch it. You do and can’t help but smile as they fight over it. 

With one last look around the park to ensure it was safe, you make your way back to headquarters, desperate for a distraction. 

You don’t find one, the place deserted. In fact, things were disgustingly quiet and while you are grateful, you also wish that you had something to do. With a sigh you leave for the day after writing your boring reports and go home. However, when you find yourself standing in front of your door, there’s a crimson envelope taped to it. 

Upon further inspection, It’s a map with a cleverly worded scavenger hunt written in a familiar scrawl. Sylus’s handwriting has become familiar to you and his elegant, almost dramatic style was outdated but endearing. The map was enough to pique your curiosity, so you change into something more casual and set out on the adventure awaiting you. It was better than wallowing in grief and self-pity all evening at home, anyway. 

After many twists, turns, and one lost apple later, you arrive at the marked spot on Whitesand beach just after dark with a picnic basket brimming with goodies. The moon hangs low in the sky, but the illuminating glow promises a full one tonight. Sylus had already arrived ahead of you, of course, and he was stretched out on a blanket, quietly scrolling through his phone. A bottle of wine and two glasses are all he brought besides himself. 

“You’re late, kitten.” he says without a hint of mercy. You want to chuck the basket at his head but instead you kick off your sandals and join him on the blanket, putting the overstuffed basket in front of the both of you. 

“I can’t believe you made me do all the shopping.” 

Sylus shrugged one shoulder, tucking his phone away. “I knew you’d pick out things we both would like.” 

“What if I didn’t and I picked stuff you hate?” You retorted, sulking a little. 

“Did you?” he mused thoughtfully. “If you did, I’d still eat it, as long as it was chosen by you.” 

When he said such saccharine sentiments so easily they felt insincere, but you knew by now that they weren’t. He was shameless, his smirk lost in the shadows cast by the moonlight. 

The revelry begins now that you’re here and Sylus uncorks the bottle in silent celebration of your arrival. It’s an easy camaraderie between the two of you now, and it’s hard for you to stay irritated at his antics when he’s so animated and open with you this way. The two of you exchange stories and he listens with his cheek propped on his fist as you tell him about the experiences you had as a child, or silly anecdotes like what happened with those children today.

Sylus is an attentive listener, eager to hear you talk about the most mundane things as if they’re the most fascinating story he’s ever heard. As the night goes on, you realize you’re both a little tipsy. The conversation between you finally lulls and when you look at Sylus, you see his cheeks are as flushed as yours. You can’t help but stare and he raises an eyebrow when he catches you. 

“What?" he says, bemused. "Do I have something on my face?” You shake your head and seem awkward about being caught staring, but he only chuckles in response. Sylus saves you from the moment by picking up a small pastry from a bakery you like and offers it to you.

“Here, try this,” he murmurs softly. Instead of taking it from him, you lean over and take a bite from his hand. It’s delicious and you want him to try it, too. 

“Have you tried it yet, Sylus? It’s…” Whatever you were going to say is cut off as Sylus leans in and kisses you suddenly, his warm lips pressed firmly against yours. He smells like wine and something you can’t quite define underneath that, but you sink into the kiss. He cradles your jaw gently and deepens his affections. His kiss is full of languid passion, unhurried, warm and inviting. He doesn’t try for more and when he pulls back to look at you with such tenderness it makes your heart twinge. You want to know the truth, but you’re also afraid if he confirms your fears that the way you feel right now will fade and you don’t want that to end yet. 

So you lean in to kiss Sylus again with only the moonlight watching, and cling to the finite moments you have with him instead of the graveyard of memories waiting for you back home.

[whencyclopedia]

Coyote Tales of the Apache

Coyote is easily the most famous trickster figure in the lore of the Native peoples of North America, and the Coyote tales of the Apache are among the best-known. As a trickster figure, Coyote appears alternately as a hero, villain, wise man, and fool, but his stories always involve some form of transformation.

Coyote at Rest

George Harrison (Public Domain)

This transformation can be dramatic, such as the introduction of death to the world, or stealing fire from the birds to share with other animals, or simply a shift in self-image, as in the tale where Coyote tries and fails to capture Turkey. The Coyote tales of the Apache share similarities with the Wihio tales of the Cheyenne, the Iktomi tales of the Sioux, the Saynday tales of the Kiowa, Manabozho tales of the Ojibwe and other Algonquin people, Glooscap tales of the Wabanaki Confederacy, Blue Jay tales of the Chinookan peoples, Coyote tales of the Shasta nation, Nih'a'ca tales of the Arapaho, and Rabbit tales of the Cherokee; though, in many of these, he is not the main character.

He features as the central character, however, in the same sort of trickster tales from the Navajo, Nez Perce, Paiute, Pawnee, Salish, Shoshone (Shoshoni), Ute, and many other nations. In Pawnee literature, he is featured in the popular tale, The Girl Who Was the Ring, where he plays the Native American ball game chunkey (tchung-kee) to rescue a girl he endangered in the first place.

Coyote's motives may not always be in the best interests of others, though they can be, and he is frequently depicted as a cunning conman, gambler, and thief, but, as noted, his tales always involve some form of transformation. Their intention, or one aspect of it, is to offer an audience the opportunity to examine their own behavior and, perhaps, make an effort to change when they do not like what they see.

Text

The following tales are taken from Myths and Tales of the Chiricahua Apache Indians (1942) by Morris Edward Opler, republished by Bison Books in 1994. The five stories below are among the most popular Coyote tales of the Chiricahua Apache, though they are also told by other Apache bands as well as citizens of other Native American nations.

Coyote Causes Death

Raven said that he did not want death in this world. "I'll throw a stick in the river. If it sinks, there is going to be death, but if not, everything will be all right," he said.

Then Coyote came along and said, "I'll throw a rock in the river. If it sinks, people will die. If it doesn't sink, there will be no death."

Raven threw the sticks and they floated off. Then Coyote threw the rock, and it sank. After that, people began to die off.

Coyote Canoeing in a Traditional Story

F. N. Wilson & E. S. Curtis (Public Domain)

Coyote Steals Fire from the Birds

In the beginning, no one but the birds had fire. No others had it; no fire was allowed to any of them. And these birds had a fire in one big place only, on a big bluff, a round bluff, I guess.

Coyote was coming from over this way, running around. He came to the place where the children of these birds were shooting arrows. And he began to play with those boys up on the side of the mountain where the bluff was, shooting arrows. He won all the arrows from those little boys.

He asked these children, "Do you boys know the path that leads over this bluff?" And he also said, "I know it. There's a place to go right over the bluff. I know where to go up." He didn't know it himself, but he wanted the boys to tell him about it. He just said this to get one of them to tell him so he could steal the fire.

The boys told him, "Our parents told us not to let anybody know where that path is."

"Well," he said, "I'll give half of these arrows to any boy who can tell me the way to get over this bluff."

But those children said, "No, our parents told us not to tell anybody."

He then said, "I'll give all the arrows to anyone who can tell me where you go up on the bluff."

Then the youngest boy there told him, "I know what to do and what to say to get over that bluff. You see that pinon tree just on the edge of that bluff? You tell that pinon tree to bend down over you, and then it goes up with you and you get up on the bluff."

Instead of giving that little boy all the arrows, Coyote gave him half of them and started for that tree. He wanted to be sure of it. And he went to that bluff over there and told the tree to bend down. It bent down four times, and then he was sure of it. Then he was certain he could go up on that pinon.

And he went down where those birds were on the big bluff there. He mad an announcement to those people. He said, "Around this country they have killed all your enemies. They have told me to come down and tell you to have a big celebration tonight."

And they listened closely to him and said, "All right."

So, when night came, they all gathered together. And they made four big rings around the fire of different classes of birds.

Then Coyote went away and pulled the bark off the juniper tree, the softest part, and he tied it under his tail so he could catch the fire with it.

Then they began to have the dance. Coyote got right in the middle, close to the fire, and he was dancing there by the fire all by himself. Every now and then he stuck his tail in the fire while they were having a good time. One of the birds told him, "Old man, you're going to burn your tail." And every time he put his tail in the fire, he looked back to see if it had caught fire.

They said to him again, "Old man, you're going to burn your tail."

And he answered, "Let it burn!" He said, "I feel so happy because all our enemies have been killed! I feel so happy, that's why I act this way."

But some of the birds suspected him. They said, "Friends, he is trying to get away with our fire."

And the coyote said, "I'm so happy! It's my way. I'm celebrating."

Then he stuck his tail in the fire and held it there a long time and looked to see if the fire had caught on the brush he had there. Then he jumped over those four lines around him. His tail was on fire. And he ran with that fire. He dashed for that bluff where the pinon tree was, and he set fire to objects all over the country where he traveled. Some of those birds were hard at work trying to put out that fire. They were after him, and some were trying to put out the fire. But the wind began to blow, and the fire spread everywhere.

They couldn't put out the fire. Then they begged either Wasp or Hawk, I forget which one, to make it rain. And so it started to rain very hard. The rain was putting out all that fire.

But the coyote still had some fire burning. Coyote gave the fire to Bumblebee in a hole in a tree somewhere. And Bumblebee kept that fire in a hollow tree, kept it out of the rain. That's how they got fire, they say. And the Chiricahua used to say, "Under the coyote's tail it is scorched yellow." They say this is what caused it. And there is black on the end of the coyote's tail where it was burned.

Coyote Shows How He Can Lie and Steals a Mule

Well, this one coyote could tell more lies! All the other coyotes came to visit him. And these other coyotes said to him, "Old man, tell us how you lie and how you make people believe your lies."

This coyote said, "It costs a great deal to learn how I lie and how I make others believe my lies. I like knowing how so much that I don't want to tell anybody. It is very valuable to me."

So the coyotes said, "We will give you anything you ask for if you will tell us."

"Well, it's going to cost you a good white horse with a new saddle on it and silver-mounted spurs. That's what it is going to cost you to find out how I lie and make people believe me."

Instead of a white horse, they brought him a fine-looking white mule which belonged to one fellow. It had a new saddle on. Coyote took it and began whipping it and trying to make it balk.

He said, "This mule doesn't act right. This mule is still balking for something."

Then they asked him, "What's he balking for?"

He said, "You must put something under this saddle. It's got to be a find saddle blanket."

Then he got off and they put a saddle blanket on the mule. He got on it again. He was whipping it and holding back on it at the same time on purpose. It would not move.

Coyote said, "This mule is still balking for something more."

They asked him what it was.

He said, "A silver-mounted bridle."

He got on the mule again and began whipping it a little and letting it take one or two steps at a time and then pulling back on it.

Again, he said, "this mule is still balking for something."

They said, "What is it?"

He told them, "Silver-mounted spurs."

Then Coyote thought he had everything he could ask for, and he spurred the mule and rode out and left the crowd. He never went back over there and went off to a distant place where some other coyotes were playing hoop and pole. And he lost everything over there in the game and left that part of the country.

Variant Ending

Coyote knew that the man from whom he had got the mule had a gun and a horse. He wanted these. So he painted the mule black and took it back to the man next day. He said to the man (who now needed a mule), "I'll trade you this black mule for your horse and gun with ammunition."

The man traded. Coyote went off with the gun and horse. He had traded the man's own mule back to him for these.

Pretty soon, it began to rain. The paint was washed off the mule and the man saw that it was his own mule. Coyote took the gun and horse to the hoop and pole grounds and there lost them gambling at hoop and pole.

Coyote Escapes Being Flayed by Inducing Another Coyote to Take His Place

This coyote had been doing a lot of mischief around a certain ranch, killing calves, or sheep, or goats, I guess, and these people went after him and ran him down and caught him. Then they took him home and they tied him up.

Then along came another coyote and asked him, "What are you doing here with that rope on you, tied up?"

"Why, these people love me so much that they feed me well here and give me everything I want. They promise that they're going to give me the very prettiest girl they have tomorrow. These people really like me very much. If you want to, you can take my place. You can get that girl if you want to. She's supposed to be a very pretty girl," he said.

Really, the people were going to skin Coyote, take his hide off, and turn him loose. That was the plan of those people as I heard the story long ago. They were going to do it next day. But this second coyote believed the story about the girl and was very eager to be tied there.

"Well then, untie me."

He untied Coyote and was tied there instead.

Some say that the people took this coyote's hide off. Others say that they put him in boiling water. I don't know which is true.

Well, the second coyote got away from there after they had him skinned and he went to another coyote camp. And he was red all over and he was sitting over there just as thin and cold as could be. Other coyotes looked at him. This was something new around their camps. He was over there by himself, and the other coyotes looked at him. And those coyotes yelled at him, "Hey, you with the red shirt!" He would not look up. He was angry because they yelled about his red shirt. And they kept calling to him, "Hey, you with the red shirt!"

Then, finally, he looked at them, angry, half turning his head, and answered them. He said, "It's your father who has a red shirt!" He was angry and walked off.

Coyote Tries to Catch Turkey by Diving for His Reflection

Coyote was going along a river. There was a lot of water flowing and by the bank stood a tall tree. In this tree a turkey was sitting, and his reflection showed in the water. Coyote saw this reflection and thought the turkey was in the water.

Without waiting, he jumped into the water. He could not find the turkey and came up. When he got to the bank, he saw that the turkey was still there. He dove into the water again and kept it up for as long as he could stand it. Finally, he was so tired that he had to stop and lie on his back to rest. He rolled over on his back and, as he did so, he saw the turkey up in the tree.

Coyote was very angry when he saw this. He ran and got an axe and began to chop down that tree. But, when that tree fell, Turkey flew to another tree. Coyote went to this tree and chopped it down too, but Turkey just went on to another one. Coyote kept this up till he was so worn out that he had to give up, and Turkey got away.

Continue reading...

[angelwishess]

—⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ THEORY TIME : Crowley Summoned Yuu ?! ( ˶°ㅁ°) !!

Before I begin, I’d like to give credit to @cheshiresaf on TikTok for inspiring this theory! Seeing their thoughts on the matter made me want to dive into the topic myself and give my own thoughts and opinions on the matter !

Reminders, this is all just speculation ! I have no concrete proof of any of this being canon in the slightest ! This is just a theory to make some sense of things, or atleast try to.

This theory will be cut into two parts, one focusing on the Opening scene and the second focusing on the Prologue.

Without further ado, lets begin !

Ever since I first downloaded TWST, the opening scene always bothered me. It was never really the scene itself, it was the fact that it was never brought up in the game afterwards.

The closest thing we get to a character acknowledging what happened was Yuu mentioning to Crowley how they remember “Seeing a horse with a scary face” / “Passing through a dark forest” in the prologue.

But after that, its never really brought up again. I had always wondered, ‘Why?’

I waited, played through the game wondering if it would ever be mentioned— But it never was.

Eventually, even I forgot about it. But after seeing that theory on TikTok, my curiosity flared up again.

Now, I was finally able to redownload TWST since I recently just got a new phone. So, I paid much closer attention to the opening scene.

—₊˚⊹ Part One : The Opening “Mirror” Scene.

Ill be talking about these two shots of dialogue first. What interests me is the way Crowley is speaking. Although you can obviously tell it is Crowley, it isnt seem as playful nor as dramatic as he usually speaks. He spoke somewhat more seriously than usual here, and, it seems like hes speaking directly into the mirror— or, more specifically, he is speaking directly to us, as Yuu.

With no one else in the room, Crowley speaks without his dramatic flair, with no room for playfulness. He speaks directly into the dark mirror— speaks directly to the person behind it. The person he knows hes talking to. The one hes trying to summon.

The definition of “Benefactor” is a person who gives money or other help to a person or cause.

Though, its pretty well known that Yuu is always helping around NRC (whether by will or not) and Crowley is almost always the one to take advantage of this— I doubt that is what he is referring to.

No, Crowley knows something. This was all on purpose, Yuu coming to Twisted Wonderland, to Night Raven, it was all on purpose. Ill research more into Crowley later, but for now lets focus on whats being said in the opening scene.

He definetly has plans, and he knows Yuu has more capabilities than what is known so far.

What interested me the most, though, is the wording right after referring to us as his “esteemed benefactor”.

“My proud, beautiful flower of evil”. This one sentence truly had me thinking, because what did he mean by this?

Well, the only thing I could think of is the vague hint that Yuu is much, much more than they seem. When you think about it, Yuu is strange in many ways. Not only do they come from another universe entirely, they get dreams of the past which warn them of future events— directly parelleling Levan/Revan (Malleus’ father).

I wouldnt be surprised if it somehow turned out that Yuu has either had magic this entire time and it just being hidden from everyone in the cast (including themselves), or theyve been absorbing the magic of people around them after being exposed to so much magic, especially from the overblots.

What im thinking, is that the true nature of Yuu and their capabilities is yet to be revealed, and will “bloom”. Just like a proud flower. And, flowers need to be nurtured to bloom ever so beautifully, do they not? Who would be a better fit than Crowley?

Now, Crowley may be somewhat immature and unreliable— But that does not make him stupid, nor does that make him oblivious. Many of the staff respect him greatly, and its a no-brainer that he must be quite powerful. He definetly knows more than he leads on, hes extremely mysterious despite being the first character (after Grim,) to be introduced to us.

Its clear to me that he knows what hes doing. He has plans, whether for better or for worse, and i think its safe to say that those plans include Yuu in some way. Perhaps theyre the final piece of the puzzle Crowley so desperately needs. ← keep that in mind. Hes desperate.

(As for the “evil” part… Man idk leave me alone)

“O magic mirror, thy wisdom I entreat…”

Remember what i said earlier? About Crowley being desperate? Dire, even?

Well, the definition of Entreat is to plead with especially in order to persuade. ask someone earnestly or anxiously to do something.

He is earnestly, pleading the Dark Mirror for answers, for wisdom regarding the “Visage he seeks”.

“Reveal onto me the visage I seek…” Once more, this further proves that Crowley is speaking and seeking out someone specifically. He is seeking out the visage, the face and appearance of the benefactor he is requesting for.

“You, whose image the Dark Mirror did beckon forth…”

Here, Crowley once again speaks directly to us/Yuu. Later on in the Prologue, when the Dark Mirror states that no dorm could possibly suit us/Yuu because our soul is “empty and colorless” due to the lack of magic, Crowley objects, saying that its impossible for the Dark Mirror to summon a student without any magic, as the system has never once erred from the beginning of NRC being established.

(Crowley ure not slick i know what u are)

So, in NRC’s 100 years of being established, why would it’s seemingly very stable system of retrieving students fail? How would the Black Carraige retrieve a student from an entire different universe, putting aside the simple fact of Yuu not having magic? Well, its simple.

The Dark Mirror did not summon Yuu. Crowley did.

Crowley was the one to bring Yuu into this world. The Dark Mirror did not beckon forth Yuu for the sake of the school, rather it was because Crowley requested for it, for whatever reasons he has.

(Alright, now this is where i will be getting into some delusional territory but i will try to remain as logical as possbile pls have mercy on me ໒꒰ྀིっ⸝⸝⸝ ꒱ྀི১)

This scene has always bothered me. Not in like, an uncomfortable way— but ever since first downloading the game, I have always wondered what this scene meant.

“If your heart bids it, take the hand of the one reflected in the mirror.”

Although Crowley is obviously the one summoning us— it is not his hand extended out to us. Rather, it is one of the characters we meet later on. (The sleeves are quite obviously the ceremonial robes, too)

To take the hand of the one reflected into the mirror… Why is that? Why do we need to take someone’s hand? And, furthermore— the hand of a specific character? Though it is a clever way to introduce the cast of characters and give us our first card of our chosen character— why this way if it doesn’t have any significance in the game other than to serve as a “baby’s first card!” scene? We already have the later free gacha, so what was the point?

(I may be overthinking this guys someone help me)

Ive always been curious, since the game never seems to mention this part, and in none of the mangas they have never shown this, either. So, whats the purpose of it?

My guess is that Crowley himself cant summon us himself. Though Crowley must be powerful— summoning someone from an entirely different universe must be difficult, almost impossible seeing as this has probably never happened before.

See, no matter who you are or how poweful you are, I have no doubt summoning someone from a different universe is an incredibly strenuous feat that near no one average could ever do. To break past the bonds of reality, and peer into another, that is something that is beyond imaginiation.

So, what if us taking the hand of our chosen character was the last nail in the coffin for us? The last thing needed for us to be brought into Twisted Wonderland.

To establish a connection.

“If your heart bids it,” why else would you take the hand of a complete stranger? One that mysteriously appeared before you in an extremely strange situation, you can’t even see their face in this scene. Yet, we still take their hand. Why? I couldn’t think of any other explanation other than an already existing connection between us and the character that we chose. Why else would your heart tell you to trust?

Now, i have absolutely zero proof of this being true, its mostly just a little guess, a situation i like to daydream about but hey, its better than nothing.

Anyways, what if Crowley needed the assistance of one of the characters to finally bring us into Twisted Wonderland? Yes, as i mentioned before he is alone in the room when speaking to us— but perhaps theres some ‘magical’ explanation to the figures of our beloved characters standing before us and not Crowley himself, despite him actually being there.

My guess is, that Yuu and whoever they chose have a strange connection. And i dont exactly mean this as strictly romantic, it could be platonic or hell, even more than both of those bonds (maybe even hatred LMAO)— but im talking about a bond and a connection that somehow transcends the borders of realities and their universe itself. They would not be aware of this— neither would Yuu. But it is there. Perhaps its a kind of “soulmate” situation (once again, i do not mean this strictly romantically, you may interpret this however you please!!)

This furthers my suspicions that Yuu needs that connection with your chosen character in order to be brought into their world.

The sound of dragging chains could be somewhat like symbolism or a physical embodiment for Yuu being tied down to their original world. A last effort of their universe to keep them there, but yet Yuu fights against them and is “freed” from those chains after taking the hand of our chosen character.

Only when you take the hand of the character you chose are you able to start the game, both literally and figuratively. (I like to imagine the characters js pull Yuu in after they take their hand i think its funny HAHAHAHA)

The mirrors and coffins at NRC are used as gateways. But it seems Yuu is the only one who needed that extra help to actually be sent into NRC through said gateways. Yuu needs that law-defying, reality bending connection with one of the characters to be able to even step foot into their world. And honestly? I think its super cute HEHEHEE🤭 (fanfic writers, feel free to use this i live to serve content)

(Unfortunately, I have hit the photo limit here. So, I’ll have to settle for typing out all the dialog for the lasst few screenshots ! So please bare with me ૮꒰ྀི⊃⸝ ⸝ ⸝⊂꒱ྀིა !)

────୨ৎ────

“As flame reduces even the stars to ash

As ice seals away even time itself

As great trees swallow even the sky

Fear not the power of darkness.

Now— demonstrate your power.”

────୨ৎ────

In the next views of dialogue, Crowley is obviously foreshadowing to the kinds of magic the player will have to get used to during battle scenes— but what interests me is the very last part of the dialog. The last thing Crowley says before the mirror brightly flashes and the game sends us into our first battle against the overblot Grim.

“Now— demonstrate your power.”

Yuu is magicless, so what power could he be referring to? This could be taken both literally and figuratively, as “power” is not only strength, it can come in many forms, and Yuu has obviously shown to be quite cunning themself, and that could be considered a power.

But, what if Yuu DOES have powers, in a literal sense? What if that power has been secretly sleeping inside of Yuu this entire time, waiting for the right moment to burst forth and bloom like a flower? Their power could be much more than just being a peacemaker or a beast tamer, who knows?

────୨ৎ────

“To me. To them. To yourself.

The hour grows long and time is scarce.”

“Keep steady your grip, no matter what may come…”

────୨ৎ────

This final piece of dialog paired with the earlier “As ice seals away even time itself” statement from when Crowley was speaking of the elemental forms of magic, it really does feel like its hinting at a time loop.

Perhaps that is why Crowley had summoned them, and why he seems to not be even trying to look for a way to send them home. Not just because hes “lazy”, but he very well may have a plan for Yuu. He is purposefully trying to keep Yuu in NRC.

Maybe he is aware of this timeloop, and out of desperation seeks out the wisdom of the Dark Mirror, trying to find a way to put a stop to it— and who better than Yuu to be that final piece he needs? His dear, esteemed benefactor… His fair, beautiful flower ready to be extorted for whatever purpose he had summoned them for.

Nothing is a coincidence. Everything happens for a purpose, good or bad. And Yuu just happens to be in the middle of every messy situation that happens at NRC.

“For them”, who is “them”? The one whose hand we took? Or perhaps the friends we meet later on? Whatever i means, its obvious theres a certain danger lurking in the shadows that has not made itself known. Atleast, not yet. And for some odd reason, it is up to us to “show our power” and keep it from happening. (If it has something to do with Grim, maybe that “Beast Tamer” title was hinting to that all along lol)

“Time is scarce.” An absolutely chilling line that is never really explained. Time has always been an element that seemed infinite, yet in some cases thats still too little. Time is something no one can have enough of, no matter who they are. Yet what does it mean in this context? Why is our time running out, and furthermore what are we trying to prevent? For Crowley? For them, for our friends… And for us? I’m sure Crowley himself must know, if he didn’t why would he be asking the universe to bring him a helper so desperately?

“Keep steady tour grip, no matter what may come…” This, paired along with the earlier dialog of “Fear not the power of darkness,” could be foreshadowing the later overblots that we face in the game. Crowley knows that we will face hardships, and says to keep steady our grip. To not let the darkness consume us or our friends. To not fear the “darkness“. Crowley could be aware of the challenges we are to face, not even bothering to help in the midst of Riddle’s overblot (very responsible of you, Headmaster). Almost as if he expected it?

That is the final line of dialog from Crowley before the Prologue actually begins.

And now, speaking of the prologue, lets talk about some dialog from Crowley in the actual prologue!

—₊˚⊹ Part Two : The Prologue

“Ah, I’ve found you at last. Splendid.”

Crowley’s wording here, “I found you at last.” Is pretty sus, he speaks like hes been keeping out an eye for a specific someone. And the fact that he went out of his way to find Yuu is also pretty telling. After all, from what we know of Crowley its obvious that hes not the type to do that kind of thing. If Yuu was just any other student, Im sure Crowley wouldn’t have gone out of his way to look for them for the sake of the ceremony.

Furthermore, judging by his tone and expression, he doesn’t seem very surprised to find a student where they aren’t supposed to be. Yet he playfully mentions that most other students usually wait for him to open the lids of their caskets before running off. Making Yuu differ from the rest of the student body once more.

Later on in the prologue, we have the infamous “Deuce throwing Ace at the chandelier” scene. (I giggle everytime I hear Ace’s scream. Its so funny i cant)

When Crowley comes over and discovers that our little group had broken the chandelier and expels us, Ace tries to reason with Crowley saying that surely, he must be able to fix the chandelier himself with some fancy pants magic.

“Even magic has its limits.”

If Crowley can’t fix a magical chandelier without it having any circumstances— Then surely there must be some very… Specific conditions when summoning a person, let alone one from another universe.

Magic itself is limited in certain scenarios. Later on, Deuce mentions that if you can’t strongly visualize your magic, it isn’t going to happen.

Which must be why Crowley went to the Dark Mirror for wisdom. “Reveal onto me the visage I seek,”

It could be that Crowley himself didn’t exactly know what form or appearance his dear benefactor would take, and because of that could not properly ‘visualize’ who he is seeking out. Out of desperation, he seeks out the Dark Mirror for wisdom to finally be able to summon this benefactor he desires so greatly, and it just so happens Yuu fits that role perfectly.

After the fiasco at rhe Dwarfs’ Mine, Yuu, Grim, and the Adeuce duo all return back to NRC safely and recap the story of their little journey to Crowley in the privacy of his office where he promptly bursts into tears after.

He begins to ramble about how the students of NRC, as talented as they are, have egos bigger than mt. Everest and this is the first time in his decades of working at NRC where the students have finally joined hands to defeat a common foe.

“I am convinced that people like you are necessary for the future of this school.”

This line of dialog caught my interest greatly. Though he was already going on and on about how Yuu’s “mundanity” is great for the students of this school— for some reason this line simply seemed to stand out to me.

“People like you”? But, there has never been a magicless student at NRC before Yuu, atleast as far as we know. Could this possibly hint to the Yuuniverse? People like you being the countless of other Yuus that were summoned in a past timeline— perhaps each one restarting after the last Yuu fails, and Crowley summons another in an attempt to stop the constant loop of each timeline resetting after every calamity that falls upon NRC.

Perhaps Yuuken failed during Leona’s overblot, and that is why he’s replaced by Yuuka in the Savanaclaw manga volumes? Maybe Yuuka failed during Azul’s, then Yuuta was summoned forth? And then so on, so forth.

Perhaps that is why Crowley is so desperate. Continuing to try and summon the perfect benefactor, the right flower to nurture in hopes that they would survive and deal with each and every calamity accordingly, in order to stop the timeloop.

Why he doesn’t get off his lazy ass and help Yuu himself? Who knows, I’d like to give him the benefit of the doubt and say theres a completely understandable reason of him not helping the students hes supposed to be protecting— but then again, it is Crowley. You really never know with him.

Right after he accepts Grim and Yuu as students, he immediately foists upon another job for Yuu. Gifting them a Ghost Camera, which captures the Memories of the photos taken by the photographer.

The photographer and the subject are then considered “Soulbound”, which apparently just means that when the photographer and the subject’s bond deepens, the Memories captured in the photos come “jumping out”. Crowley says it enables the user to not only photograph the subject, but parts of their soul itself.

(I want to relate this to the part where we take the hand of our chosen character but i cant think of anything so …)

He then tells Yuu to take the camera, and make a record of their campus life. But why Yuu, specifically? And only Yuu? Surely, he could’ve given such an object to the Housewarden of each respective dorm— yet he gives it to Yuu and Yuu alone. As if he knows that they’d get involved in all sorts of trouble, face the unthinkable. And he brushes it off saying how much more convenient it would be instead of documenting everything himself, but how could he be so sure that Yuu would come across such events?

“As a prefect, consider it your duty to maintain a sharp eye on your surroundings and record them.”

Yuu and Yuu alone has been given full freedom to mettle in whichever dorm they see fit and “beast tame” them. They do not have the restriction of the Housewardens, where they only keep an eye strictly on their dorm and dorm mates. No, Yuu has been given full and complete freedom to keep an eye and ensure that everyone is in line regardless of their dorm due to Crowley’s blessing upon Yuu to do just that.

While Housewardens are only limited to their respective dorms, Yuu is allowed to discipline and punish whoever they see fit regardless of which dorm they belong to.

It is because Yuu is magicless that they alone have this privledge of overseeing every dorm— even being able to tell off the Housewardens themselves.

It is because Crowley has given them this role that Yuu is constantly faced with so many challenges from each dorm as a result of their meddling.

He pushes them to meddle in the business of other dorms, making it their “duty” as a prefect (A job that he forced unto them). In a way, this is isn’t just Crowley extorting Yuu into looking after the students instead of him despite it being his job and not theirs, perhaps it is him also trying to ‘nurture’ Yuu. Putting them into these situations, in hopes that they allow Yuu to unlock their true potential and stop the timeline from resetting.

It is because of their job as a prefect that they get into these situations. And it is because of this meddling that they face such challenges. Yet, they wouldn’t have had to if Crowley just didn’t appoint them as “Prefect”. (Well, I suppose Ace was the one that started it— but shh lets ignore that for now!)

Thats all the dialog that stuck out to me for the Prologue.

—₊˚⊹ Conclusion !

In conclusion, I think that Yuu was not brought to Twisted Wonderland by mistake, but on purpose by none other than Crowley himself.

Perhaps each character has their own “Yuu”, and that connection between a character and their Yuu was what enabled Crowley to bring them into their world.

With each Yuu failing at a calamity / overblot, the timeline resets and Crowley summons another Yuu to try again to stop the timeloop, hence the Yuuniverse.

Crowley alone remembers every reset, perhaps not all of it which is why he has given Yuu the Ghost Camera in hopes that the Memories in the camera remain. But, he is aware that the timeline resets every time a Yuu fails— yet it is only a Yuu that can stop the calamities due to the mystery of their true nature.

Yuu is Crowley’s “esteemed benefactor”, the one summoned specifically to aid Crowley in his agenda, whatever it may be. Yuu was brought to NRC to assist him, and Crowley seeks to nurture Yuu until the time their true powers are revealed.

Crowley was desperate to summon Yuu. And it seems the worst is yet to come, and for that reason he summoned Yuu.

With Yuu’s mysterious background and even more mysterious ability to see the past through their dreams— Yuu must have some sort of secret power. The true nature of their being, perhaps they themselves have some sort of magic, or are destined for something great. Whatever it may be, Yuu is not a normal, everyday person. Though they are magicless, that does not make them average at all.

To summarize: With every calamity that falls upon NRC, the timeline resets to the night before the Opening Ceremony. Crowley, being the only one who retains any memory of every reset, desperately seeks out the Dark Mirror in search of wisdom, and a benefactor who can help him and the rest of NRC and finally end the loop. That benefactor being Yuu. Yet, because of the limits on magic— it is difficult to summon such a person, let alone the right one. Conveniently enough, there are a select few of students who have some sort of connection with the one Crowley may be looking for (ex. Yuuken paralleling Riddle, Yuuta paralleling Azul, ect.), and it is because of that law-defying connection that Crowley is able to summon each of their respective Yuu’s.

Yuu’s true abilities have not yet been revealed, and still remain veiled in mystery. But, Yuu may have powers of some sort, or a destiny that they are to fulfil. One greater than they can imagine.

— Phew! That was a lot, wasn’t it ? Sorry, I didn’t expect it to be so long ! (Thats what she said)

Anyways, if you’re still here and managed to make it to the end— Thank you so much for reading my little yap session !!! I appreciate it, and I’d love to hear your thoughts on the topic !

If I got anything wrong, please feel free to correct me! After all, I don’t have the best memory and I may be remembering things wrong. But once again, thank you so much for reading !

Don’t forget to drink water, and take care of yourself, pretty ! See you next time, bye-bye!~ ♡

[vidavalor]

I noticed in the flashbacks that all the stories are biblical up until the crucifixion. After the cruxifiction there are no biblical stories but only non religious historical events. Thoughts?

Hi @i-go-like-the-raven! 💕Hope you're having a good week. That's a great observation. Some thoughts on Golgotha, Rome, and why the Biblical story flashbacks might stop with Jesus below.

My take on this would be that the wordplay-happy Good Omens has used the Biblical story flashbacks to make a bildungsroman that-- wait for it lol-- builds towards the ancient Roman flashback 😂 and all that follows.

A bildungsroman, for anyone who doesn't know, is a story that is focused on the first, initial formation of a character's identity and worldview through the development of their own core spiritual and philosophical beliefs. It's sometimes a story about young adulthood but it doesn't necessarily have to be as it's never too late to start down a more free-thinking path.

If we're open-minded, curious people, then we're all always growing and changing and learning-- that never stops-- but a bildungsroman is mainly concerned with the very first time that a person begins to gain a little independence from those who raised them and so starts to form their own identity and worldview.

This involves deciding what of that they were taught they are going to continue to believe. It involves experiencing a lot of things for the first time, meeting new people who offer up different perspectives, and learning about the larger world and different schools of thought. It's basically the results of a person's initial, independent exploration of life on Earth.

Traditionally, by the end of a bildungsroman, the characters have emerged more fully into themselves and are in a more mature stage of adulthood. They will continue to grow and change but that initial process of forming a core, independent view of themselves and the world is complete. This is what I think that the Biblical stories in Good Omens are accomplishing in the overall narrative of the story.

Good Omens isn't Bible fanfiction-- it's a satire of oppressive systems. It's using The Bible to come at ideas of patriarchy and fascism that cause harm to so many. The whole Bible is like that but the stories that they have chosen to take a flamethrower to here are probably the most damaging and well-known and the ones best suited to most dramatically come at patriarchy, obedience, authority, etc..

Good Omens is a story about human living that is tackling things like trauma and mental health and has themes about autonomy as freedom and how we're the author of our own lives. The stories chosen across the board-- both the flashbacks and ones just alluded to or used to form the story in the present, like Armageddon-- are all ones best suited to be gutted like a fish in support of Good Omens' themes.

In Good Omens, The Four Horsepeople and Armageddon are used to describe a mental health crisis. It's use of the book that has done more damage to more people than anyone can count by doing a spin on the story where it's actually about how you survive trauma born *of* The Bible and other tools of oppression. Eden and Genesis are getting into ideas about authority, obedience, genocide, gender, patriarchy...

There's a mocking of Leviticus across several scenes and its unhealthy ideas about consumption in different parts of the story at the same time as the story also takes on lunacy 'wellness' ideas via Famine and the foodless food of Chow. It's talking a lot about the queer hate born of Sodom & Gommorah (hold that thought, please, as someone else asked for a post on that). It chose Job for the center of the flashbacks, since that very fucked up story lives at the intersection of all of the story's themes.

But why might the Biblical flashbacks themselves end with Golgotha, as you ask?

Part of it, I think, is a witty little wink to the historical timeline that, for ages, stopped and restarted time with the birth of Christ-- B.C. and A.D.. Everything was centered around Jesus for everyone, whether you believed in that or not. The arrival of Jesus was the be all and end all of everything. This is also in Michael's description of Armageddon in S2-- how, if successful, Armageddon-- which supposedly includes the return of Jesus-- would mean the end of time and the world and the beginning of the misery of...

But The Second Coming is The Parousia, which is a Greek word meaning presence, and also what the concession stand in the theatre in the opening credits of S2 is named. This is a story about mindful, healthy living where Armageddon is a breakdown. This story is a lot more concerned about whether or not anyone is eating a cheese sandwich than it is about telling a story where Jesus is somehow back to judge everybody.

This is the Discworld-- we're all gods of the Disc. When we die, we go wherever we most believe we're supposed to be. That's what eternal life is. No one needs poor Jesus for that-- just leave him alone.

To this end, what has Good Omens done with Jesus to date?

He's just kinda there in the background for a minute in the flashbacks. 😂 Good Omens was basically like Jesus was a nice guy with some decent ideas, if a bit traumatized and repressed, and it's a damn shame he's dying in the background of this scene that is really focused on Crowley and Aziraphale and their romance.

Nothing says 'this story is not about The Bible but is using The Bible to come at toxicity that The Bible and things like it creates' more than this story about the angel and the demon living a human life on Earth has had Jesus on screen for exactly eleven seconds. 😂

Even better, the only thing about our main characters' personal connection to Jesus' story that we learn in this scene is that Crowley was who tempted Jesus in the desert-- a pitch-perfect detail that the food kinky Crowley, who is the antithesis of Raven Sable by design and believes in a more healthy way of living, was there going c'mon, man, why don't you flip those rocks into some bread? It's really, seriously not the end of the world? Starving yourself isn't great, actually?

But what makes that revelation in the Golgotha scene even better is the fact that it's an additional punchline to Aziraphale's flirtation in the present two episodes earlier. Jesus very famously shut down temptation in the desert-- so, in Good Omens, shut down Crowley-- with "get thee behind me, foul fiend" so when we find out that Jesus said that to Crowley, it makes the already deliciously blasphemous flirtation from Aziraphale back in 1.01 even funnier and filthier.

Here's the role of Jesus in Good Omens-- it's Aziraphale using a Jesus quote as sexual invitation. Telling Jesus' temptress that he has no intention whatsoever of resisting him like that uptight messiah did and he'd liked to be fucked asap, please. (The "after you" on the end of it is always the bit that sends me. 😂) This appears to be about as much Jesus as Good Omens plans on getting into here.

Jesus is in the background in Good Omens for a reason. The Second Coming is just Armageddon: Round Two. Jesus is not coming back to judge anybody. Frances McDormand is, in all likelihood, a Voice of God that talks to Aziraphale sometimes. She effectively is Aziraphale, which is probably why she's awesome.

Nothing about The Bible is going to happen in this story the way The Bible says it's going to happen because this is a satire, not Bible fanfiction. The angels and the demons exist in this story to talk about being human. This is a story about breaking these characters free of this stuff, not about retelling The Bible.

Golgotha is the end of the Biblical flashbacks because it's a scene contrasting definitions of the word passion. It's the Passion of the Christ meets the passion of the Crowley. The scene builds to the ending of our bildungsroman, which is Crowley telling Aziraphale that he's changed his name to Crowley. It symbolizes the identity he's formed for himself and, after S2, the audience understands it even more because, having seen the Job minisode, we now know why the crow.

We got the sense of this being a romantic admittance back in S1, largely based on Aziraphale's reaction to it, but after S2? There's no way not to see the intimacy and heat in Aziraphale being a little jealous about Crowley's reputation as the great seductress and Crowley replying with the revelation that he's given himself a name that they both know that only Aziraphale understands.

Directly off of this, we chronologically ditch The Bible story flashbacks for good because, while stuff like Armageddon can be used in the present for other parts of the story, there's no need to set these characters in these Biblical flashbacks anymore because those were the foundations of this romance and the bildungsroman. They're to get us to Rome. They're to develop Crawley and Aziraphale, the angel that was on apple tree duty, into Crowley and The Angel of The Eastern Gate.

And it stops right here-- with the passion of the Christ being contrasted with romantic passion-- because this is the set up for Rome, where they more fully start to break free.

Off of Golgotha, we jump to what, for them, is about 30 seconds into the future, into the first historical flashback, and it's in ancient Rome, which is to where our bildungsroman was building. It's time for them to start writing their own roman-- an old word for a novel. Their book of life began with Eden but The Bible stories are just their youthful origins and their life on Earth is the story they're writing together, for which the Biblical stories are just the first book and the start of the volume that is more fully their own is Rome.

Rome represents Crowley and Aziraphale both on the other side of their early Bible days. They also can't go any further with The Bible here because-- like for many humans whose experiences this is all paralleling-- it's the source of trauma. Crowley and Aziraphale are more definitively themselves by Rome-- more ready for something a bit more full grown. The story here and on out is about how it's human living that is healing and holy and that's going in the opposite direction of the self-denial of The Bible.

There ain't no story in The Bible that was ever gonna make for a flashback that could get Crowley a partnered oyster, ok? 😂 For that, he needed the emerged and a little more worldly Angel of The Eastern Gate, ya feel me?

Pretty much the most subversive thing this story does is pat The Bible on the head and say oh, flaying you alive to talk about how toxic you are will do nicely to form a nice little bildungsroman for the early days of this romance between these queers with religious trauma... but you're definitely not the basis of our entire story because that's about walking the Earth. We're going to jump to the history of the real world the second that angel and that demon go from hilariously parasexual ox ribs to the Aphrodite and Eros of actually going out for oysters.

The Bible flashbacks in Good Omens end with the passion of Golgotha contrasting death with the little death as it sets up for the romance of Rome and all the years of doing as the Romans do that follow.

[empress-of-hugs]

Dear Diary

Read on AO3

Chapter one: Diary, I'll confide in you

Dear Diary,

Today will be the day. No matter what, today I will tell my special someone that they are, in fact, my special someone. I'm nervous, and a little scared, but I know you will understand. It's not easy after all. If they don't feel the same way about me, it may very well shatter our friendship forever.

Still Diary, I just can't keep quiet any longer. It hurts, you know all about how much it hurts. Seeing this person every single day but not being able to… Ah, I digress.

I will speak to them today, and I will tell you how it went. I should probably go now, though. It's almost noon, if I hurry a little I might still be able to make it to my ten AM meeting with the Hokage,

K.

As I close the door to my apartment behind me, I can't help but sigh. I know I'm even later than usual, but I just can't seem to bring myself to hurry even a little. Sauntering through busy streets, I bury my nose in my favorite book. The people around here are used to it, and they make sure there are no collisions between our respective bodies. Even though I'll never say it out loud, I really do appreciate that. Especially on days like these, when my mind wanders so much it's not even possible to focus on Icha Icha. I try though. I need the distraction. More than anything else, I need to be distracted right now. I find myself sighing once more. Maybe lunch would be a good idea, I've skipped breakfast again after all. But no, I really should try to hurry a little. If only my legs would agree…

As I enter Hokage Tower, I glance at the clock in the hallway. Almost twelve-thirty. I might've really gone and done it this time. There will be yelling. But honestly, I can't be bothered to care. Flipping a page, I start walking up the stairs.

"Kakashi!"

I don't look up. "Yes, Shizune?"

"We've been waiting! Where were you all this time?"

Even though I still don't look up, a small noise alerts me to the presence of Tonton. Even the pig seems to be annoyed with me today. It's just not fair, really… "There was this little old lady that needed help crossing the street," I look up now, my vision going black for a moment as I crinkle my eye in what others always seem to assume is a smile.

The raven-haired woman in front of me sighs dramatically, "For two and a half hours, Kakashi?!"

"Eh… She was a little indecisive." One hand rubbing the back of my head, I try to play it off. It seems to work, because she just sighs again, walking me into the Hokage's office. I put the book back in my pouch, glancing around the room with only mild interest. Of course the Hokage is there, but I also see Jiraiya, Asuma, Kurenai and Gai. I suppress another sigh.

"Yo!" Raising one hand, I crinkle my eye again before slouching back into my usual pose. Hands safely tucked into my pockets, shoulders relaxed. "I'm sorry, I think I might be running a little late…"

Tsunade snorts, "I'm used to you being a little late, Kakashi, but this is getting ridiculous!"

I only crinkle my eye again, seems to work a lot. Not this time, though. The blonde is fuming, spouting all sorts of nonsense about how a shinobi must always be reliable, always be on time. I choose not to listen. Instead, my gaze drifts over to my fellow jounin. Asuma seems relaxed, his hands in his pockets like mine even though his shoulders are straight. Kurenai is standing just a little too close to him, also seemingly relaxed. Without pockets to put her hands in, her arms are dangling at her sides. Though she is wearing a slight frown. No matter, it's just because I'm late again. I know her well enough to know that much. Not that I really care, but… Well, that's the way it is, right? Gai is standing on the other side of Kurenai, looking anything but relaxed. But Gai hardly ever relaxes in public, so that doesn't surprise me too much. Only, this time it isn't his usually unrelenting excitement that's causing the man to shift uncomfortably. He seems… angry with me. I swallow. I don't want Gai to be angry with me. He's my best friend, my self-proclaimed eternal rival. And he's scary when he gets mad. So I focus my attention back on Lady Hokage and the man standing at her side. Jiraiya, the legendary sannin. The guy who robbed me of my student like Tsunade and Orochimaru have as well. A light frown appears on my brow. I'm holding on to the soothing knowledge that they won't see it. The hitai-ate covers that part of my face, like my mask hides my lips when I'm not actually smiling at them and just crinkling my eye to make them believe I am. These people are boring. And annoying. And just generally not good company for me to be around. Not today at least. I suppress another sigh.

"Are you even listening to me?!" Oh boy, the woman's raising her voice with me. That's never a good sign. My vision goes black for a second as my eye crinkles again, my mind working fast to remember what she was talking about.

"I am. I'm really sorry that you seem to think public service is not something we shinobi should bother with, but I'm afraid I have to inform you that I disagree with you on that." I cock my head slightly, hoping to calm her down a little. "And as for this briefing, my students are scattered off to different sensei anyway. I don't really see the need to stand here listening to how everyone else's students are doing, let alone hear how my own are doing from someone else…"

She frowns at me. "You need to be here for the briefing because that actually is a part of your shinobi duties! Helping non-existent old ladies cross the street is not."

I take a small step back, feigning surprise as well as hurt. "I can't help it if you never notice the look of distress on those soft, wrinkled faces—"

Her voice cuts me off, "What's gotten into you lately, Kakashi?" She sounds concerned and caring and all those other things that I really don't need right now.

I swallow. "Nothing…"

Asuma clears his throat, and for once I am grateful for him interrupting the usual banter. I'm just not in the mood for it today and frankly, she's getting a little too close for comfort anyway.

"Can we just get on with the briefing? Kakashi's finally showed up and I'd like to get this over with so I can get to the rest of my day. I'm sure we all agree." Asuma looks at Kurenai and Gai, but not me. Of course not. I'm the reason everyone's day got delayed in the first place. Inside my left pocket, my hand slowly turns into a fist.

"You're right, Asuma." The Hokage glares at me for a few more seconds before moving on to the biggest pain in the butt jounin-sensei have to deal with. Apart from inexperienced gennin that are way too cocky for their own good, of course. The briefing. Where we all come together every three months to discuss our team's progress. It really isn't fair that I have to be here for this as well. Sasuke is under Orochimaru's tutelage, Sakura under Tsunade's and Naruto is still studying under Jiraiya. Who shouldn't even be here right now, because that means he's left the boy alone somewhere. God knows what the kid's up to right now…

As Asuma starts his report, my mind wanders. I find myself thinking about one person in particular. I'm thinking of that person way too much. That's actually what's gotten into me. Only not lately. I've been thinking about this person for years now, and I've never actually had the guts to say anything to them. Team 7 proved to be a good distraction, but now they're all scattered about. It's not even Team 7 anymore. And it's certainly not my team anymore. I try not to sigh.

"Is this too boring for you, Kakashi?" Tsunade is frowning at me again.

I can't help myself. I'm just too irritated right now. "Yes, actually it is. I don't even have a team anymore, you sannin stole each and every one of its members. There is no reason for me to be here, and quite frankly, I never cared for these briefings anyway. Every single one of these kids is an individual, and here we are measuring their progress by how far the others have come. It's a complete waste of time!" I don't care anymore, turning on my heels, I bolt out of the office. Almost running down the stairs as I try to find a secluded spot before my tears spill over. I'm useless, aren't I? All my students have been taken away from me, different tutors now teach them what I should be teaching them. I couldn't keep Sasuke here, I couldn't support Naruto enough. I should've paid more attention to Sakura despite the amount of time the other two gobbled up. I'm a worthless, useless piece of shit. I'm no sensei, I'm a failure! Quickly, I make my way back to my apartment. Leaping over rooftops to avoid anyone seeing my tears.

Landing on my balcony, I open the door to the inside of the apartment with the key. Closing the door behind me, I also draw the curtains. I don't want to be disturbed. I quickly put the bolts on all the doors and windows before dropping face down on my bed. Was I really so preoccupied with my crush that I failed my students? They were all promising young gennin. They beat the bell test. They showed great prowess in the Land of Waves. Well, the boys did. To be fair, Sakura didn't start to show any signs of being a proper shinobi until her match with Ino in the chuunin exams. But still, I tried, didn't I? She showed talent for genjutsu, so I trained her in that. But no, little miss Haruno decided she wanted to be a medical kunoichi. That she wanted to study under Lady Tsunade… She never even asked me what I thought about it, she just went and asked the sannin. A sarcastic chuckle works its way through my throat. Why wouldn't she, right? After all, both Sasuke and Naruto already had their sannin teachers. Why wouldn't she want one, too? Anything to get away from me, right? Their perverted, lazy, unreliable sensei.

My pillow and hitai-ate are wet with tears, but I can't seem to stop crying. I briefly wonder what my crush would say if they could see me now, but then violently push the thought away. I don't want to think about their reaction, their disappointment. No one will ever see me cry. If I managed to swallow my tears at Lord Third's funeral, I will manage to swallow them in public forever more. Would I have been a better sensei if I didn't? If I'd cried at Lord Third's funeral like Kurenai did? Would Sasuke have stayed? Would he have thought that I cared after all? Asked for my tutelage instead of Orochimaru's? Would Sakura have thought me worthy of being her sensei if I'd shown more emotions? Would Naruto have trusted me if I'd been the one to comfort him instead of Iruka?

Iruka… What does that guy have that I don't anyway? Naruto was always talking to Iruka. Always repeating 'Iruka-sensei's' words back to me. When Jiraiya asked him to travel with him, Naruto and Iruka went out for ramen to say good-bye. He only briefly spoke to me. Sakura too. She spoke to 'Iruka-sensei' about wanting to be a medical kunoichi, but not to me. Both of them ignored my presence in their lives as much they could. And Sasuke… Sasuke paid more attention to Sakura than he did to me. I did everything I could to train him for the third stage of the chuunin exams and still he left. I tried to explain to him that I too know loss, and he pushed me away. He went to Orochimaru and then everything turned to rubble. Everything. Would all of that still have happened if I'd chosen to train Naruto instead? Sticking him with Ebisu might not have been the best idea in retrospect but… I truly believed at the time that Ebisu was the better option for Naruto. He wants to be Hokage, right? And Ebisu's tasked with training those who show great promise to one day be Hokage. But Naruto blamed me for it. Blamed me for supposedly choosing Sasuke over him. I didn't. I honestly didn't. I just wanted the both of them to have the best training possible! No one else could train Sasuke, and he wanted above all to learn the Chidori, so I had to train him myself. And I couldn't go back and forth between the two because the Chidori just takes a lot of work. Besides, Naruto needed to get a different view, and learn different techniques. He wasn't ready for things like the Chidori or advanced taijutsu yet. I thought Ebisu would be the best option to give him a crash course. Apparently I thought wrong… I've never been wrong about these kinds of things before, I only fucked up with those three. And now they hate me, they hate me so much they prefer the questionable tutelage of Orochimaru and Jiraiya over mine. Even Sakura's decided she'd rather deal with Tsunade's violence than be my student. I'm a failure as a sensei, a failure as a man. I'm lonely…

Pushing myself up, I rest my back against the wall. The picture we all took when Team 7 was formed is on my windowsill, next to the picture of my own gennin team. Minato-sensei is dead. Obito is dead. Rin is dead. Sasuke has joined up with the enemy, becoming a missing nin. Naruto is off training with 'pervy sage' probably learning more about women than jutsu. Sakura is holed up in the library five days a week, getting a beating from 'Milady' on the other two days. I really don't have anyone left. Sighing, I push myself off the bed. I need someone to talk to.

XXX

"I'm sorry, Minato-sensei. I failed you. I failed my teammates. I failed my students. You've got every right to be angry with me. I failed your son. I know you always wanted me to be his sensei, I know you and Kushina thought I would guide him. That I would show him the importance of teamwork, of friendship. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry, Obito. You taught me the most important lesson I have ever learned, but I neglected your sacrifice. I failed them. I didn't teach them how important it is to work together, and they all went off on their own path. I know you probably hate me for that. And you should. You gave your life so I would learn this lesson, so I would pass it on. I'm so sorry, Obito.

And Rin, I must apologize to you as well. You gave up everything for this village. For the people who needed you most. For me. I'm so sorry, Rin. I have failed you as well. I didn't keep the village safe. Lord Third died and I did nothing to protect him. I am so sorry. I didn't pass on your will of fire. Sasuke left. I failed him like I failed you. Like I failed all of you.

Father… I'm not the son you envisioned, am I? You used to lead by example, and I tried so hard to do the same. But my example wasn't good enough, father. If it was, they would all still be here. They would be safe, and growing. But instead both of the boys are out somewhere, and I don't even know where. And all the while Sakura is still here, but I don't even know how she is doing, either. She refuses to speak with me, Father. That's how much of a failure I am. My own students want nothing to do with me. My friends are angry with me, and you're… I failed you, Father. I am so sorry. I'm not the son you deserved, I'm—"

"I knew we'd find you here, Kakashi."

I don't turn around. I've resolved that no one should ever see me cry, haven't I? So I purposefully relax my stance, keep my voice in check, "Asuma, Kurenai, Gai." I suppress another sigh. "What do you want?"

"We just want to make sure you're okay." Kurenai approaches, and I step aside so her extended hand falls on thin air.

"I'm fine. Why would you assume otherwise? Just because I got fed-up with early meetings that bore the living daylights out of me?" I keep my tone light, turning to face them, head cocked to the side, eye crinkle securely in place.

"It is not something I am used to from my usually hip and cool rival!" Gai exclaims, but then he turns serious. There's always something terribly wrong when Gai just up and turns serious… I sigh.

"My friend, what is wrong?" Gai's tone is soft, and it tugs at my already wounded heart. I can't deal with it.

"I'm just bored. I'm always bored. Don't read so much into it, Gai." I start to walk away, but my rival's voice stops me.

"Then I propose a challenge! Show me your youthful determination to win and I might accept your obviously made-up excuse, my friend!"

I honestly don't know whether to sigh or smile, so I do neither. "I'm not really in the mood, Gai. Some other time, alright?"

"So you're depressed again, is that it?"

Asuma's conjecture is way too close, so I decide to prove them wrong, "No, but they're showing the Icha Icha movie again at the theater. If I hurry, I may be able to watch it in marathon for the rest of the day." I jump up and into the trees. Away from the memorial stone and my comrades. Apparently I can't even speak to the dead without being bothered by the living. Not fair.

XXX

I don't really intend to go to the theater. If the book couldn't distract me earlier, I have no hopes for the movie being any more distracting. So I head back to my apartment instead. Maybe I'll clean up a little, god knows the place needs it. But as I make the high jump up to my balcony, I find none other than Maito Gai calmly sitting on the railing.

"Please don't lie to me, my friend." There is a little hurt in his voice, and I can feel my shoulders slump. I sigh.

"So I changed my mind and decided my laundry was more important after all." I shrug. "That's not exactly what I call lying, Gai."

But he doesn't reply to me, instead raising his voice to the couple that I only just now realize is staking out my front door, "He's here! My youthful instincts proved right once again, my friends!"

My gaze drifts to the clouds up above. "Gai, just leave me alone, will you?" I can't suppress the sigh that wells up, but it doesn't really matter. He'll just chalk it up to me being 'hip and cool' or whatever.

But he doesn't. Clearly doesn't. Grabbing my flack vest, Maito Gai pulls me along. Jumping back down to street level, we apparently meet up with Asuma and Kurenai. From what my ear catches, we're supposed to go for drinks. Just great… I try to protest, but no one even listens. So I get dragged into the bar that Gai and I held our last drinking challenge in. I was the idiot who'd said I like the place. Here, we're apparently meeting up with Genma, Raidou and the twisted twins. That means Izumo and Kotetsu. Anko seems to have invited herself too, and she's already well on her way to being drunk beyond belief. I kind of like that about her. Anko never gets tangled up in her thoughts: She just gets drunk. I kind of wish I could just do the same. But that's not exactly my style, now is it? I get pushed down into a chair and a glass of shochu is shoved in my hand. I have no idea who's responsible for either of those things, as my eye is crinkling again. They think I'm smiling, I know I'm pushing back tears. I sigh softly.

XXX

The drinking continues well into the night. I skipped breakfast, lunch and dinner, so I'm feeling a little… fuzzy. Not that I'm actually drinking that much. Most of the glasses that get pushed into my hand get emptied in the plant beside me. It's probably drunk by now. And dead by morning. I don't really care. Even though this whole annoying thing is supposed to be about cheering me up, most of these guys are just chatting away, getting drunk. I don't care. The only thing I really care about is that every time I try to leave, someone pushes me back down. Adds another glass of alcohol to the plant. Well, I'm doing that, but what other option do I really have? That thing is gonna die now anyway. Might as well give it an amazing last night on earth, right? I've tried to read as well – I have no idea where my book has gone. Raidou had it last, I think. I sigh again.

The others seem to be enjoying themselves, Genma's right in the middle of regaling them all with a story of his latest conquest. I'm getting sick and tired of this. I don't care who he's slept with, and I don't care how amazingly far her limbs could bend. I honestly don't. Usually I might. But not today. It makes me wonder how far a certain someone's limbs might be able to bend. Even though I've already got a pretty good idea. Still, it's an unwelcome thought. So I get up, muttering something about getting us all another round. Happy nods all around as I make my way over to the bar. I order the drinks, slumping over the polished wood. I promised myself I would tell that person how I feel about them. That I would do it today. I glance at the clock. Today is only going to last me another ten minutes or so. I sigh. This is not how I envisioned my day going. This is not how I envisioned my life going. The tray of glasses is set down in front of me, but I don't care. I can't be bothered to bring more liquor to my already much to inebriated so-called friends right now. I'm too busy feeling sorry for myself.

What? Even the famous copy ninja is allowed to sulk every now and then, right? And I'm choosing to do that right now. Deal with it. I sigh.

"My friend, what is the matter?" Gai's tone is soft.

I only sigh again, glancing at the clock. Five more minutes to midnight. I should get out of here. I don't want to think about anything anymore. Not now. Not when I should be… I sigh.

"Kakashi… this isn't just about your students leaving is it?!" He has to almost shout the question in my ear, our 'friends' are making quite the ruckus behind me. I shake my head, but decide I'm not going to try and raise my voice over the loud laughter coming from behind.

A warm hand comes to rest on my shoulder, squeezing gently. "Please tell me, my friend?!" He still has to yell. A humorless chuckle escapes me. Of course Gai would be the one to follow me here. Gai of all people. I glance back up at the clock. One minute before midnight. I sigh, straightening my back. Promises matter. I mentally prepare myself to yell, having to make my voice loud enough to be heard over the insane noise coming from the guys. I swallow. Ten more seconds to midnight.

Without warning, the ruckus calms down, but I'm already yelling.

"I'm in love with you, Gai!"