#so the grief is obviously still there. and the hurt's still there but it's cleaner somehow. easier to hold.

[rowenabean]

.

[coccyodynia]

things:

this one is gonna be all over the place bc there's a lot of things i haven't dealt with yet or even acknowledged but i need to do something with them so weird tumblr post it is!

i haven't slept well in months for a number of reasons (ornery cat, back pain etc) and its really catching up to me

my health is still very much in flux but i am very very broke and cannot afford my health insurance and/or co-pays so i've basically stopped pursuing any kind of treatment/appointments for now, just trying to deal with the pain as much as i can :/

i am still without a dayjob and thats gonna become a problem very quickly :/

im getting back into the habit of making art on a more regular or consistent basis, which i am happy about!!

since i quit my job i've had a noticeable improvement in my moods, overall outlook and depression symptoms. a lot of people around me (therapist, parents, grandma, friends) have made comments about how they've noticed this

i've been working really hard on my coping skills and other inner-work to improve my life and relationships and it's really working i think, so i'm happy about that

my apartment is looking a lot better, usually when my depression/moods are really bad my kitchen becomes pretty much unusable, but since i've been more free to focus on things in my life i've been keeping it cleaner and i'm happy about that too

the semester started a few weeks ago, and im enjoying my class/students! im really excited about the rest of the semester and to see what my students make

i had a tarot reading that kind of blew my mind last weekend and i'm still sort of reeling from it tbh

she spoke a lot about my inner turmoil and the past, and being content with a found family (at least that's how i interpreted it) in my future, while having a strong support system presently

interestingly she never said much of anything at all about relationships outside of that, which i took to heart

i've sort of always believed i would never have a life partner/long-term relationship, but instead the universe would continue passing people through my life on timelines appropriate to how these relationships serve me

i think people like lillian and kym will always be around for sure, but my life has shown a pretty consistent pattern of people being introduced to my life at a time when i desperately needed someone and slowly removing them from my life when i learned what i needed to learn (mannie, reid, michael, justin, henry, so on and so forth)

i know that this is what's happening with justin and on one hand i'm understanding of that, on the other hand i'm very upset about it

i really dont know where he and i stand right now, he's in a new job and trying to spend more time with his kid, so he's less available to talk/hang

it really hurts, because he really did save my life in some form or fashion, and to have that comforting presence slowly disappear has been incredibly difficult

i've really been avoiding talking about this with anyone, like my therapist and closest friends because i am not sure how i will handle the grief once i let myself really accept it/deal with it

last night Lil asked me "how are things with justin?" and i gave some weird vague response like "not sure, i'll tell you when i figure it out"

her followup question, after a slight pause, was: "are you okay?"

i had to laugh because obviously no i'm not okay with this but i dont have a choice, so i'm handling it as well as i can - but i told lil that i probably am not handling it as well as i should

i got very drunk the other night and had an incredibly bad time, sobbing hysterically and screaming basically, bc i am so tired of people just coming and going from my life

my notes app on my phone is just full of one-liners about this bullshit and i feel like a stereotype, moreso than usual

one-liners include:

"people would rather leave than extend the grace i offered them from the start"

"it only hits me sometimes, but i feel it every fucking day"

"found rotten at the root, i am being picked clean"

"people just move on, they move on and forward at a clip and im still here - still here still here still here - no matter how far i move, im still stuck here"

so im not in a great headspace about all of this

but i am at least doing better handling it than i might have been 6 months ago tbh

literally anyway...

last night i had a dream that featured reid and erin and cobb

we used to be the 'dream team' back in high school & college

the dream was weird and i don't fully remember the plot but i do remember waking up very sad and confused

i dont associate with them at all anymore and that might be for the best

but somehow reid keeps coming up in my dreams, i had one the other week where they asked me "is this separation working for you? it's not working for me" basically asking to come back into my life

my response in the dream was "i dont think about you at all anymore" which isn't entirely true obviously, but i've definitely moved on quite a bit

it's almost exactly 2 years since they left my life (sept 24), so i'm sure that's why this is coming up in my dreams

but that also means it's been almost exactly 2 years since i last self harmed (oct 3) and i'm glad about that

when i reached 1 year clean from SH back in 2022 i told justin that i wasn't sure who to talk to about it, since the person i usually told was the reason it happened in the first place

and justin was very very supportive, kind and reassuring

i'm really sad that i'm not sure he would be anymore

i have a little more capacity to handle these kinds of things now that ive quit my job that made me suicidal

but i still want to have that extra support, extra care and i don't know how to have that need met, if that makes sense

idk im just low-key sad underneath everything and all of the progress i've made. its just that im not using drugs or self-medicating to deal with it

idk bye

[ganymedesclock]

I mean no insult because your taste is yours- but do you not find dolls kinda creepy?

Would it be funny to say "a little, in a way that makes me like them more"?

Obviously everybody has their own tastes and I know mine slide a little gothic and macabre, but I think that doll horror actually DOES make things sort of more interesting to me! Let's talk about it!

Dolls are designed for pleasure. To be loved, and held tight, or looked at and admired. Porcelain dolls that are designed to be pretty or ragdolls who are supposed to be winsome and lovable.

So there's a couple of different horror angles you can find in this- do you fear something like the Beldam from Coraline, who lives in a perfect dollhouse world and whose objective, in a very sinister sense, is to "play house" with others, ultimately turning them, also, into dolls at her disposal- dolls that in turn become sinister whether they want to or not, in the way that dolls are supposed to be innocent, toys, fit for children, but a malicious adult can put dangerous or harmful things in a child's environment wrapped in things the child might like or seek out?

Or is the doll scary because it is a replica of a human, and in that way, imperfect by design- where the scariest dolls are the ones closest to humans, just a bit too empty in the eye, just a bit too rigid in the face? A thing almost like us, but hollow inside? We play with our dolls as children and then as we grow we may find these play-pretend connections unfulfilling to the warmth and company of real people? Is thus the porcelain doll the most unsettling because it is the most like us, or because, as a largely yesteryearly invention, we are not used to imagining it in a context where it is played with, loved by a child?

Or is the doll scary as a sort of due-to-the-dead phenomenon? Is there something to their play-pretend humanity, or the love that we may have invested in them as children, that makes them alive? If that's so, were those of us who broke toys, or forgot about them, or maltreated them- is there a desecration there we fear we have to pay for? Or that they might resent us for throwing them away?

This is hardly an objective list of doll horror- I think that any concept that unsettles people always has reasons behind it and those reasons are just plain interesting. Personally, one of the big doll horrors that gets to me, is a sort of sympathetic one- a horror from the doll's perspective, or an assumed doll's perspective. Because if you think about it, a doll has no choice in what they become, what they look like. We think of a puppet- merely a doll with control functions attached- as the epitome of what it means to be used and discarded by others. But the conceptual doll, in some ways, has an added burden.

The Plain Doll in Bloodborne is a living, thinking, feeling person; once you have the Insight to be aware of her, she is moving around the garden, talking and thinking about things, even worrying about you. Despite the horrors of the game, she is a completely trustworthy figure. And she has a particular spoken line that really gets me in the stomach every time I read it:

Hunters have told me about the Church, about the Gods and their love. But, do the Gods love their creations? I am a doll created by you humans, would you ever think to love me? Of course, I do love you, isn't that how you've made me?

While she herself is the furthest thing from a doll, SABRINA from the game RUMU, towards the very end of the game, has a breakdown- bear with me, dear anon, I cannot find the text offhand, but from memory- where she asks why someone would build a machine capable of loving, when she argues that machines are only appliances, and automate tasks that humans don't want to do, and questions if that she was made to feel love (and thus, grief) because humans didn't want to. While the game ultimately takes a far more sympathetic conclusion than SABRINA's, and challenges this mentality of hers (at one point, paired with the player character, a little robotic vacuum cleaner, scrubbing "YOU DO NOT EXIST" off of an image of her) it sort of comes back to this same thing.

A doll, in the simple sense of a toy we give to children, is the likeness of a person. It has developmental significance for us at a formative age- dolls and similar toys are how we simulate the lives and experiences of other people. It's fodder for how we begin to wonder about others around us.

In this sense, I think conceptually, if a concept as broad as "a doll" can be thought of as about anything, it is about love. We're expected to love dolls. It's an assumption that most people, at least once in their lives, played with a doll and weren't horrified by it. That expectation, that core of love, doesn’t negate the horror but threads inextricably into it. The “evil toy” genre imparts the horror of, that a well-meaning parent might give their child something they think is safe only for it to prove dangerous; the Beldam from Coraline takes it a step further as she’s the one by her own means stealing into Coraline’s environment to hunt her in a seemingly innocent guise. But also consider what tvtropes calls the “Empathy Doll Shot”- the implicit placing of a child at the scene of a catastrophe by leaving a doll or stuffed toy behind, abandoned in the dirt. These things hurt us because we have an intuitive sense that thing is there to be loved; that someone should be holding it. That at best case scenario, somewhere very far from home, a child is bawling into a shell-shocked caregiver’s shoulder, wailing about how they want dollie back, where’s dollie?

I guess my point is that dolls are rather complicated, and I think that the reason they can seem so scary and so poignant to us in equal measures is because they are very close to the beating heart of ourselves in many ways. The connection to childhood, the presumption of innocence- these are things that can be deeply evocative and from that position of leverage, heartbreaking or horrifying. Even those of us who may never have had personal experience with dolls or a fondly remembered dollie in our childhood have this sense that we should love this, that we’re expected to love this, that it’s expected to be innocent.

And, for me, all of that said, I think I tend to take a more sympathetic angle to dolls in part because I had a pretty good relationship with them for much of my life; I still keep three particular cherished stuffed animals, after all.

But also, I just in general have a lot of feelings about artificial beings, and in particular, the idea of the doll- as something designed to be winsome, to please the people around them- resonates a bit uncomfortably with me as someone who has had a few bad friendships where I felt like just an accessory for the other person’s pleasure.

[ptergwen]

hi could you do a fluffy blurb where the (stark)reader and peter have to babysit morgan so they go to the park and have a picnic while she plays? could you also make it a little angsty with mentions of Tony’s death? thank you <3

i went a little hard on the angst in the beginning idk what came over me but i hope you like 😭

when the news was broken that tony stark took his last breath, the whole world went into mourning. he was loved by so many, looked up to and raved about worldwide.

they say his death was an act of selflessness, that saved everyone except himself. you don’t see it that way. it’s simply a tragedy in your eyes. that a hero’s destiny is to sacrifice their life for the greater good, it’s just complete bullshit. what about the greater good of you? your mom? morgan? a father and husband are missing from your lives now.

the father who taught you how to use the extraordinary mind you were blessed with, and encouraged you to do whatever you want with it. he turned the simplest of mishaps into silly life lessons, like when he spilled a pot of coffee down the front of his louis vuitton and went on about the importance of knowing a good walk-in dry cleaner.

you’re obviously aware that people around the whole world are grieving your dad, but his absence is a heavier hole to fill for you and everyone who was in his life. this has fundamentally changed who you are, and only a couple of things can help you cope.

one of them is peter.

he’s experienced more loss and pain than most people ever will, tony’s fate only adding to it, so he understands completely what you’re going through. he comforts you while also dealing with his own grief. you not only need, but deserve the support, and only peter can give it to you in the ways you’re looking for. even his presence by your side throughout the day makes your heavy heart feel a little lighter.

what also helps is your family, mostly morgan.

she doesn’t quite get what happened to tony because you all agreed not to tell her yet. she’s smart and strong and extremely capable for a five year old. still, it’s a lot for anyone to handle, especially when you’re as impressionable as morgan. she knows that tony is gone and won’t be coming back, that’s it.

since she doesn’t have to carry the weight of her dad’s passing, she’s living in blissful ignorance. she’s the same ray of sunshine and hope, of everything good, and being around her is refreshing. she makes each day feel normal again.

pepper isn’t home because she’s on a work trip, so you and peter have the job of watching morgan. she’s thrown herself into her ceo responsibilities more than ever as a distraction. to lift your spirits a bit, peter suggested the three of you go to the park. morgan insisted that you also have a picnic, which leads you to now, halfheartedly packing a cooler in the kitchen.

“we need the juice pops!” morgan beams, going to grab the box from the freezer. “you love those things,” peter chuckles and takes them from her outstretched hands. she’s quick. tony got her into them not too long ago, and it’s an obsession now. you crack a small smile as you lean against the counter. you’re only watching them pack.

“ok, what’s next?” peter asks himself, rubbing his hands together. “sandwiches because that’s all i can make. cool.” that earns a playful scoff from you. “sounds promising.” “hey, i do a great peanut butter and jelly,” he defends and leans over to peck your cheek. you hum in content of his soft lips on your skin. “we’ll see about that. don’t forget drinks.”

after morgan demands that you two stop being gross and you finish packing the cooler, you head out for the park. it’s one you’ve been to a few times. unlike the parks in the city, this one has less going on, more isolated and peaceful.

“why not the movies or something? why this?” you ask peter as the three of you step onto the grass, morgan trailing along in between you. you’re holding one of her hands, and peter is holding the other. “because it’s nice out,” he hums in response. there’s a warm breeze and blue sky above you. “and, some fresh air might make you feel better,” he adds more seriously.

you haven’t left the house much recently, so he’s probably right. leaving it at that, you settle on a spot with a lot of open space surrounding you. peter lays out the blanket while morgan digs into the cooler. she goes right for a juice pop, an orange one that she takes a big bite out of.

“aw, man. doesn’t that hurt?” you giggle at your sister, whose answer is to happily continue chomping on the freezing cold thing. “she’s a wild one. we better hide the rest,” peter jokes, then places the cooler down in the center of the blanket. morgan gasps and rushes over. “stay away!” she gestures to peter with her stick. “or i’ll blast you.” “and how’s that gonna work?” he tests her with a small smile.

your heart speeds up and falls into the pit of your stomach. “um... dad gave her one of his old blasters a while ago,” you explain, avoiding peter’s eyes as you take a seat on the blanket. morgan finishes off the rest of her juice pop and goes in for another. “well, she technically found it. she got to keep it, though,” you continue and pull the cooler away before she ruins her appetite. she sticks her tongue out at you.

“that’s nice,” peter murmurs, sitting down next to you, putting a hand on your back. you were in a pretty good mood until the reminder that tony isn’t here to join you hits. he can see that. “hey, morg? why don’t you go play while we set everything up,” he tells her sweetly and hand her one of the many toys she insisted on bringing. it’s her luke skywalker action figure. you blame peter for that one.

“ok, bye!” morgan is gone without a care in the world, on a pretend space invasion. once she’s out of hearing range, peter checks in on you.

“you okay? i didn’t mean to bring that up,” he says quietly and fully wraps his arm around you. clenching your teeth into each other, you let your shoulders drop. “it’s okay. i just...” you feel your throat getting tight. “i can’t believe he’s gone, peter. it’s not fucking fair.” tears cloud your vision, peter pulling you into his chest. he presses his lips to your hair.

“i know, baby. it isn’t,” he coos, a muffled whimper escaping you. you grab onto one of his biceps and let out a breath. “i wish i could move on, be more like morgan. i hate having this at the back of my mind.” peter nods as you speak while cradling you in his arms. “you get there when you get there,” he encourages and kisses your forehead for good measure. you wind your arms around his torso.

he’s so good at telling you exactly what you need to hear.

“you’ll have me through all of it.”

[ifeellikeameowster]

Raise Hell - Creativitwins and Darkside!Roman Fic

Fic Summary: After a brooding session in his room after the events of SVS2, Roman decides Fuck It! and visits his brother Remus' room. As the two brothers reconnect, Roman ends up making a startling decision.

Warnings: Roman Angst, Self Loathing, Self Deprecating, Darkside!Roman, Gore, Violence, Weapons, Sexual Innuendos (Basically Remus just being Remus)

Pairings: None!

Wordcount: 7k+ (almost 8k)

Author's Note:

I started writing this fic immediately after SVS2 so it's canon complacent until after that, where it branches off into this AU! This was before both Flirting With Social Anxiety and Working Through Intrusive Thoughts came out, so please just consider this an alternate "What If?" scenario! (Also this just goes to show you how much I procrastinate when it comes to writing whoops lol.)

Roman sat curled up on his bed. Sitting in the same position that he had been for the past two days or so. He couldn't exactly recall how long he had been there holed up in his room, actually.

The only thing he could recall was the disappointed looks on their faces, their harsh words whether intentional or not, and the feeling of his whole world seemingly crumbling down around him. It was all too much too soon, and after his outburst he had sunken into a numb state of suspension. Waiting to feel anything other than anger, grief, and disappointment. All three of which were mainly pointed dangerously at his own self like a bunch of daggers repeatedly striking where they knew it would hurt most.

Patton had stopped by shortly after he had first sunk out, yes. But Roman could hardly hear what the fatherly side was saying to him over the ringing in his ears and his own rapid heartbeat constantly reminding him it had been recently struck through. Something about everything being okay, he thinks? Yet how could Patton have said that when absolutely nothing was okay right now? In fact, he doubted anything could be okay ever again. Not after…well, after he had apparently messed up again.

It was starting to become a habit now, all of these stupid mistakes. And how could such a perfect prince as him make such mistakes? He was supposed to be a paragon of perfection! An idol for all aspiring heroes alike! The pinnacle of heroism and all that is good in the world! Instead he was just...just wrong. Always wrong. Always wrong no matter who's side he took or who he believed in or what he said or didn't say. Wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong.

But if he wasn't a perfect prince...if he wasn't a hero...if he wasn't right...then what exactly was he? What was left? Well, nothing, really. He had put all of his eggs in one basket and now the littlest breeze had apparently sent it toppling over.

Wait a minute...If he had nothing left, then that meant he had nothing left to lose, right? Which meant all of his old restrictions on himself, all of his walking the fine line and all of him staying on the right side of the fence- All of it was meaningless. It was doing nothing, just like him.

He slowly unfurled his body from it's curled up position and turned his gaze towards the closet on the far side of his room. The door was dingier compared to the rest of the elegant and ornately designed bedroom. Scratch marks marred its greyed, wooden surface and a sign was tapped loosely and half-hazardly to the middle. "Danger: Nightmare Zone. Keep out!" It read in bright red lettering.

"Keep out, huh...I must have been really mad when I wrote that." Roman glanced down to his hands, which he had clenched. "But now I'm just empty...so what's the use in obeying a stupid sign that I put up there myself?" He unfisted his hands and looked back to the imposing closet door. "What could be more dangerous in there than staying here and stewing in my own thoughts?"

He slowly stood up, his legs tingling from being in one position for far too long. He made his way over to the closet door. Slowly. Cautiously. Glancing over his shoulder as if someone was going to walk in on him at any moment. As his hand grasped the handle, he felt himself gulp. Did he really want to do this?

"…"

Well, what else was there to do?

He pushed the door open and stepped into the closet full of old clothes. All of his new princely adornments were actually being stored in a mahogany wardrobe beside his nightstand. These clothes were...they belonged to...Well, someone who didn't exist. At least not anymore. He pushed his way through dusty and moth-bitten clothes as if he was pushing through the undergrowth of a dense jungle. As he neared his destination, the place grew darker and smelled more and more of mold.

He finally arrived at another door. This one was more well kept than the last, with golden trimmings and an intricate door handle. He took a deep breath to steal his nerves before pushing it open.

He stepped out into another bedroom. This one had moss in the corners, cobwebs on the ceiling, and ivy climbing it's walls. Even still, it was much tidier than he had been expecting. It gave off more of a wild feeling rather than a dirty one. Just as he was about to take another step to inspect further, there was a mace in his face.

He hadn't even flinched back, he was so tired and dazed. Roman sucked in a nervous breath and looked to the wielder of the weapon.

Remus was standing frozen in place, his face flickering between emotions. Eyes twitching. It appeared like he had intended to knock him out again...just like last time in the living room...but something must have made him pause.

"You've been crying." He hissed, less of a question and more of an accusation.

Roman blinked, confused, before reaching up to poke the skin underneath his eyes. Sure enough, it was puffy. He bet if he looked in a mirror they'd be red-rimmed as well. But he didn't even want to see his own face right now. He huffed out in irritation. "So what if I have?"

Remus' face flickered once more before settling into a firm stare as he slowly lowered his morning star mace away from Roman's head. He was being oddly still and slow in his motions, and the difference between this and his usual rambunctiousness was making Roman's skin crawl with nerves. "Why?"

"Why?" Roman repeated after him, bristling, "Why do you even care why?"

Remus blinked, seeming to come out of his previous mood. "You tell me Prince Smarmy! You came into my turf." He rested his mace behind his shoulders and started rocking back and forth on the heels of his boots.

"I…" Roman's gaze fell to the ground. "I don't know. It's just the last place I could go, I guess?" He shrugged before waving a dramatic arm, "But if you don't want me here either, then just say it to my face!"

Remus tilted his head curiously before leaning forward "Oh, I can do way better than that, brohide." And with that, he snapped his fingers and the room flipped upside down.

Roman gasped as they fell through the air. The room seemed to twist and morph around them. Until finally, he had landed roughly on his own fluffy white floor rug. Remus, however, had fallen through the fancy canopy of his bed. Tearing a large hole through it and landing in a heap on the covers.

"Hey, my bed!" He shouted, offended beyond belief.

"Oh tough titty." Remus chastised as he picked up a golden laced, red silk pillow. He started plucking at it's loose threads. "I bet you have a ton of those ugly tent things."

"They're called canopies, you uncultured swine!"

Roman got up in a huff and dusted off and straightened his rumpled clothes. He sent a glare over to Remus as he did so. "Why'd you do that?"

"Do what?~" He sing-songed annoyingly back.

"Teleport us in such an unruly manner!"

"Hmmm…" He flopped over on to his back and started doing snow angel motions. "Why'd you go in my room?~Huh? Huh?"

"Wha- I- I asked you first!"

"I asked you second!!" He rolled over on the bed to grin up at Roman, still clutching the poor, abused pillow.

"Ugh, fine!" Roman threw his hands up in the air and moved to grab his vanity chair. He pulled it over to sit in front of the bed. "I just didn't want to be in my own room right now, okay??"

Remus frowned with pursed lips and sat up, scooching forward on the bed. "But it's your room, numbnuts."

"Well maybe I don't want to be near me right now…Um, wait. That doesn't make any sense, does it?"

"Probably not! But-" He cupped a hand over his mouth and loudly whispered conspiratorially, "I can rip your head off your body and throw it to the side for you so you're not close to it anymore?"

"No that's...That's not what I meant and you know it!"

"Fucking party pooper!" Remus threw his hands up then abandoned the pillow he had been holding to riffle curiously through the rest. "Do you not keep a dagger under your pillow??"

"What? No, of course not! Who would do that?"

"Me, duh! For security reasons, bitch boy."

"Well I'm obviously more sensible than that. I keep swords under the bed like a sane person."

"Wait, really?!" Remus threw himself over the side of the bed to look underneath it. "Holy shit, nice!" He rustled through them for a moment before grabbing a sleek black flamberge by it's blade and pulling it up. "I'm keeping this!"

"I would protest that but you've already gotten your filthy blood all over it and that sword is a particular bitch to clean."

"Sibling souvenir!" Proclaimed Remus as he stabbed it into his stomach for safe keeping.

"What on earth are you doing? Why would you stab yourself??"

"To make sure it doesn't go anywhere! Oh, and to test it's stabby powers."

"You know in hindsight, I shouldn't have even asked."

"Speaking of askings of questions-ing, why did you visit my room of all places? Needed to get rid of some trash? Because I'm taking if you're offering. I could always use more decorations!"

"Remus, you rat bastard, I saw that your room was cleaner than you let people believe it to be. If you did take any of my trash you'd probably organize it into the proper bins and everything."

Remus gasped and put an offended hand over his chest. "How dare you! My room is perfectly and gloriously trashy and stinky, just like me."

"Mhmm, sure it is."

A shuriken flew past the side of his head and embedded itself right in the face of one of his many Disney posters.

"Just answer my question!!"

"Okay, okay jeez!" Roman raised his hands placatingly before dropping them to grip at his knees nervously. "I, well, I didn't want to be alone anymore…"

"And? You couldn't just visit the other lamo light bitches in the living-dead room?"

"They, um." He sighed before looking over at his posters. Prince Charming smiled brightly back at him, even with a weapon digging into his forehead. "They don't want to be around me. They don't want me. Not anymore. If they ever did. They have him, after all. Both of them."

"Him. Them. Stop playing the pronoun game already and get fucking on with it!"

"He has Janus now! Thomas chose Janus! Patton chose Janus! They chose Janus! They both chose Janus...over me…" Roman blurted out. The words were spilling out now, unstoppable. He sniffled as he felt the tears threatening to fall once more as well. He didn't even realize he had any left to cry. "I chose Thomas. Thomas chose Patton. Patton chose Janus. No one ever chooses me! No one ever takes my side!"

"Apparently, I'm always the one in the wrong..." He ran his shaky hands over his cheeks, desperately trying to push any tears that appeared away. To keep them from falling anymore. Hadn't he cried enough? "I was wrong about Virgil. I was wrong with how I talked to Logan. I was wrong about the breakup. I was wrong about the wedding. Now I was wrong about Deceit- no, Janus- ugh...Everything I do is wrong!"

He lowered his hands again to dig his fingers back into his knees. Roman drew in another shaky breath, trying to calm himself after the outburst. He glanced nervously up at Remus to gauge his reaction to his brother's crazed rambles.

Remus had leaned forward to hear him better over his sobs and shaky voice, almost tipping over the edge of the bed. He had his nails digging into Roman's comforter, and Roman was afraid he was about to rip holes into it. He already had a canopy to replace after all, he didn't want to have to replace that as well! They stared at each other in tense silence for a few moments more, one at a loss on what to say next and the other trying to process the onslaught of new information. Finally, Remus let go of the comforter, slid off the bed, and sat on the floor in front of him with his legs splayed out.

"So what you're saying is...wait, Jan Jan the Banana Man actually told you his name?"

"Well, he more so told Thomas and Patton it and...I just happened to be there too?"

"Huh. Never thought he'd tell anyone else. Well, not after Virgil…was Virgil there?"

"No. Unfortunately Virgil wasn't there to back me up. If he would have even taken my side at all...And Logan was...there in textbox spirit?"

"What'd nerd-a-lerd say?"

"He…well, I wasn't really paying much attention to- I was panicking okay! But I heard enough." He looked to the side, feeling shame well up in himself again. "Enough to know that he was taking his side, just like everyone else."

He heard a mumbled "Damn pronoun name again-" before Remus clapped his hands together with a loud boom that echoed through the large room. "Okay! And I can't believe I'm saying this but- tell me the whole story. Top dick to bottom butt."

"Ew." Roman wrinkled his nose up in disgust.

"Just tell me already!!" Annnddd another shuriken whizzed past his head. This time it embedded itself in his dresser. He hoped it hadn't cracked the wood too much...

Thus Roman spun the entire tale, starting at Janus' first appearance and ending with the absolute fiasco between the callback and the wedding that had occurred a couple of days ago...or had it been several? Time had muddied itself in his reclusion. He would take several breaks in his storytelling to go off on self-deprecating tangents that sounded an awful lot like dramatic monologues from some tragic play. More often than not these tangents were cut short by Remus, who would hurry them along with crude nicknames and threats to get back to the main story.

Somehow during this storytelling process both of the brothers had ended up splayed out side by side on top of Roman's fluffy white floor rug. As if they were kids gossiping on the floor at a sleepover. Remus had busied his hands by pulling out locks of the fur from the rug while Roman's own hands gesticulated wildly with the ups and downs of his tale. As he neared the end of the story, Roman curled up to lay on his side so he could face Remus and see his reaction.

"...and then I decided to go to your room. Because I had nowhere else to go. I didn't want to stay in my room with my own thoughts any longer...but I didn't want to see any of the other sides, either."

Remus was laying on his stomach, fiddling with the rug and swaying his feet in the air. At hearing the last bit, his feet fell back down to rest on the floor. "...But you wanted to see me?" His voice was the softest Roman had ever heard him speak. It was incredulous and almost...hopeful.

"I-I don't know. I-" Roman diverted his eyes across the room, sweeping over the damage done by them earlier and eventually landing on the dingy and scratched up closet door. He stared at it for a moment in thought before looking back over to Remus. "Do you ever…Ever miss sharing a bedroom?" He murmured.

Remus wrinkled his nose and glared at him, likely upset that he had dodged the question. "Not really. Your taste in stuff is far too Gucci-Gucci-bougie for me."

"No, not that!" Roman dismissed with a wave of his hand, " Not the furniture or anything like that. Just the…the feel of someone else being there too? Knowing that someone else is always there? Someone who's kind of like you but not really? Someone you can talk to when you have no one else?" Roman ran his fingers through his hair in distress. "Does that make any sense???"

Remus was still glaring at him, but now his eyebrows twitched with an unseen emotion. "Being brothers?" He hissed.

"What?"

Remus reached over to grab Roman's shoulders and shake him silly. "What you're describing. Is being brothers. What I wanted to be. What you didn't let us be. What you rejected. Shoved into the darkest corner. Placed under a Do Not Enter sign-"

"I'm sorry, okay! I didn't mean it!"

Remus paused in his shaking, several emotions flashing across his face. "Didn't mean it?"

"I know I-" Roman placed his hands over Remus' on his shoulders but didn't push him away and lowered his head in shame. "I acted rashly and perhaps a tad extreme to our new circumstances at the time. But it was for what I thought was the best. I only ever wanted to serve Thomas. I only ever wanted to please them. I never thought- I-" He looked sincerely back up into his brother's eyes. "I never thought about what that would mean for you. What that would do to you. What that would do to us. And for that, I'm sorry."

Remus loosened his grip but didn't let go entirely, staring intensely and attentively at Roman.

"I never actually wanted to push you away. I was just doing so because I thought- Well, okay admittedly I wasn't thinking much at all really but-" His eyes briefly flickered back to the closet door "I didn't want to become a dark side too! I didn't want to not be able to see Thomas. Or to be rejected by the others. I-" He laughed then. A dry, helpless laugh. He shifted to put his head in his hands. "But I guess that happened anyway, didn't it? What sick irony, huh? Maybe it's what I deserve… Maybe it's karmic retribution…"

"..."

"I shoved you away... And now they're shoving me away! I lost a brother so I could keep everyone and everything else in my life but now- now I've lost that, too- Now I have nothing. Now I am no-"

Remus tightened his grip on Roman's shoulders again and pulled him towards himself. He ended up knocking their heads together in the process-

"Ow! What the hell are you-"

-of wrapping his arms around Roman and hugging him to himself.

"You-You're hugging me?"

"You didn't lose a brother…" Remus pouted, as if he was a petulant toddler, "I've always been right fucking here if you'd open your stupid eyes for once."

Roman let out a shuddering breath, feeling an entirely new type of tear prickling at the corners of his eyes. He buried his head in Remus' shoulder and gripped onto the back of hid brother's clothes as if he was his last lifeline. He probably was.

Sure the hug was the most uncomfortable one he'd ever had, what with the hilt of the sword in Remus' stomach poking him in his own and his forehead still ringing with the pain from where Remus banged them together, but somehow it was still nice. It still felt like...home.

"...But I thought you hated me?"

"What gave you that idea?"

"You're always calling me names and hitting me with stuff!"

He felt Remus shrug. "You do the same thing."

"You do it first!"

"Eh- that's just what siblings do~~"

"With medieval weapons?!"

"Says the guy with a stash of swords under his bed!~" Remus sing-songed teasingly.

"Oh like you have room to talk- You said you keep daggers under your pillow!"

"Shouldn't everyone? You should keep some under yours too, Mr Whiny Prissy Pants!"

"And there's the name calling again."

"Hey now, you know it's the older siblings job to pick on the younger-"

"But I'm the older sibling! I manifested my form first!"

"Eh, semantics-schmantics! Same diff!"

"You're completely unreasonable!"

"And you're too stuck up!"

Roman let out a growl and smacked a hand over Remus' face, pushing him away and breaking up the hug. Remus let out a huff and reached over to slap the back of Roman's head in retaliation. This caused them to descend into a full on slap fight, looking like a slapstick scene straight out of a comedy movie.

They roughhoused like this, like a pair of bickering elementary schoolers, until they eventually tired themselves out and flipped gracelessly back onto the floor. They both stared at the ceiling for a few silent seconds before bursting out into fits of crazed laughter.

"That was the worst hug ever! Hahaha!"

"Hey! I don't have much practice! Heeheehee!"

"Haha! We must look like a couple of insane people lying here!"

"Haha! I knooowww~~ You're room is sooo trashed!~Heehee!"

"Hey! You're the one that trashed it! Hahaha!"

"Well you're the one who invited me here brozilla! Hahahoo!"

"You're the one that brought us here! Hahaheh! I wanted to be in your room! Heh!"

Their laughter eventually died down. But just as Roman was about to drift off into sleep from his position lying on the floor, he heard Remus ask, "Do you still want to go to my room?"

Roman blinked his eyes open. He sat up and looked forlornly around his own bedroom. The thought of staying here seemed lonely, now that he'd finally reunited and reconciled with his brother. And the pictures and posters adorning the walls just reminded him of past memories that only hurt to think about right now. "......Yeah. Yes, actually." He turned to Remus, who had also sat back up, " I know, I know it sounds crazy but-"

"I like crazy!" Remus grinned and raised his fingers in preparation to snap, causing Roman to have a flashback to the previous time he did it.

"Wait! Don't turn the room upside down again! We can just sink through the floor like we normally-"

"Sink through the floor? Okay, if you say so!" His grin widened maniacally and he snapped his fingers.

The floor started to shift and cave in on itself, causing Roman's furniture to all move closer to the center. A hole slowly opened under where the brothers had been sitting that pulled them down into it. Roman screamed as they were both sucked into the abyss.

His scream ended abruptly as he was flung up into Remus' room, the hole now acting as a geyser of sorts. Roman landed in an unruly manner and was knocked out of breath while Remus landed swiftly on his knee before rolling up into a standing position.

"Home, Smelly Home!" He proudly declared with his hands on his hips, either unaware of or uncaring towards his brother's struggle to get up from the floor.

"Shouldn't have opened my big mouth..." Mumbled Roman as he dusted his clothes off and tried to straighten his appearance, only for his work to be completely undone when Remus yanked him into his side and rustled his hair with his elbow. "Hey! Stop that! Do you have any idea how long it takes to do my hair?"

"Eh, it was already messed up anyways." Remus slapped Roman's shoulder, "Now come on slowpoke, I'm gonna give you the grand tour!" Remus then ran off further into his room, causing Roman to have to chase after him in order to keep up.

Remus showed him his bedroom first, which had a mirrored layout to Roman's, but the furniture was darker and more rustic. The decorations looked more like something out of a haunted mansion than a grand palace, like Roman's did. Remus then stopped by his weapons closet, where he finally removed the flamberge sword from his stomach and tossed it haphazardly inside. From what Roman could make out before Remus had shut the door again was that the room looked bigger on the inside than the title 'closet' would suggest. Remus then pointed out a few more small areas of note before eventually leading Roman to the back door.

Every side's room had a front door- where the other sides could enter their room, and a backdoor- where each side could go out of their room and into their own personal section of the mindscape. Most sides referred to it as their 'backyard', of sorts.

Roman followed Remus out of his backdoor and onto a balcony overlooking a dark, twisted forest. The balcony itself was the same design as Roman's own balcony but was made up of black marble instead of white. There were a few cracks here and there, yet it was overall fairly stable. English Ivy crept along the rails and crawled down the side of the castle. There were no stairs in sight, unlike with his own balcony, leading Roman to wonder whether Remus would take the time to climb down the Ivy or simply jump off of the railing in order to enter his backyard.

Remus spread his arms out in a grand gesture before spinning around to sit backwards on the railing, facing Roman. "So, what do ya' think? Badass digs, right?"

Roman, lost in thought and not expecting the question, blurted out the first thing to cross his mind. "We have similar balconies."

Remus raised an amused brow. "No shit, Sher-cock. We're in the same castle. Same castle, same floor plan. Duh."

"Wait, the same castle…?"

Remus shrugged, leaning far enough back on the railing to have Roman worry about him falling over the side of it, "It split when we did. We still share a room and space... it's just-" He waved around a hand dismissively. "Halved, now."

"Ah...so that's the reason we can visit each other without going through our front doors…" Roman walked up to lean forwards on the railing, right beside Remus. "Wonder why I didn't question that sooner?" He rested his chin in his hand with a sigh. "All this time, we were even in the same castle...the same area of the mindscape...and I never- I never even bothered to visit-"

Remus, who had grown bored of the conversation and had started to pick his nose, interrupted Roman's spiral by flicking boogers at him. "Hey now, none of that. You did enough moping back in your own room, you cry baby.*

"Ugh! Ew!" Roman sputtered indignantly and pulled out a doily to wipe his face. "You're disgusting." He huffed.

Remus stuck his tongue out at him and laughed. "If you start saying sad shit again, I'll give you a wet willy." He then leaned towards Roman and started wiggling his fingers menacingly.

"You wouldn't dare!"

"Try me, bitch!"

"Well, if you do that, then I'll- Then I'll shove you off of the balcony!"

Remus faked a scandalized gasp and placed a hand over his chest while the other draped across his forehead. "You'd murder your own dearest brother?!"

"It wouldn't kill you, you overdramatic oaf, sides can't die!"

"You're calling me overdramatic?" Remus abandoned the pose to lean forward with a knowing grin. "Talk about the pot calling the kettle black."

"Oh shut up." Roman pushed Remus away, before turning around to sit beside him atop the railing.

Remus' eyes widened. "My goody two shoes brother is sitting precariously on a railing? Since when? Is it opposite day? "

"What do you mean? I do dangerous stuff all the time!"

"Oh yeah? Like what?"

Roman gestured wildly, "I slay the dragons! I defeat the monsters! I save the people! I...fight the bad guys…" Roman deflated as his hands fell beside him to lock the rail in a death grip. "But I guess I failed at all of that, huh? So much for being a goody two shoes…"

Remus hummed in thought, nails tapping against the black marble. His legs swayed back and forth as they both looked up at the night sky above them in companionable silence. Roman eventually let out a forlorn sigh and relaxed his grip on the railing. Suddenly, Remus let out a loud gasp and clapped his hands together, startling Roman who in turn almost tipped over the edge of the balcony.

"I have the best idea!"

"Oh no, you're planning something. That can never be good."

" No, no! Really, really! Listen, listen!" Remus smacked Roman's arm and shoulder excitedly in-between each word.

"Okay, okay! Just stop!" Roman slapped Remus' hands away. "Tell me then brother, what is it?"

Remus beamed and jumped to stand back on the balcony. "Okay so, you're saying that the other sides are shutting you out, right? And that they made you feel like a stinky doodoo head?"

"Gee, thanks for reminding me. Totally helps me feel better." Roman grimaced with a sarcastic thumbs up as Remus paced back and forth.

"Right! So, they're starting to treat you like a villain. And J-Anus as a good guy?"

"I- I guess? That's like the bare essentials of what happened...I mean, that's what it seems like--Ugh, just what are you getting at?!"

Remus stopped pacing to spin towards Roman and spread his hands out. "So why not just be a villain?"

"......what?"

"Join the dark sides with me!" Remus then awkwardly faked a modeling pose. "We have great fashion! And weapons! Lots of weapons!"

Roman scoffed. "I know, I saw your weapons closet." He slid off the railing to stand in front of his brother. "But what makes you think I'd want to be a villain?"

"Well, they made you feel fucking awful, right?" Remus leaned forward with a menacing grin, "So why not give them a little hell in return?"

"What, as in revenge?! I'm supposed to be a purveyor of justice!"

Remus shrugged and started circling Roman. "Where's the justice in always shutting you out? Of always telling you that everything you do is wrong? Of splitting us apart?" He stopped to put his hands on Roman's shoulders again. "Aren't you tired of trying to be a good guy all the time? Don't you just want to let loose and raise a little hell?"

Roman bit his lip and wrung his hands together. He looked down at his feet as his brother's words rang through his head. Where was the justice in that? He had always tried to do the right thing before. To be the good guy. To be the hero. But no one ever appreciated his efforts. Instead they always, always focused only on his mistakes.

The other sides' voices chimed off in his head.

"Roman, you can't do that." "Shut up Roman." "That was wrong, Roman." "Stop being so dramatic, Roman."

He pushed those invading voices furiously away and tried to reorganize his thoughts.

Him, joining the dark sides? Could it even be done? A light side had never switched over to the dark side before... Well, unless you counted the original Creativity and their split. Where a part of that Creativity had...had been pushed to the dark sides and…

Roman's eyes widened in realization as he looked back up at his brother. "You too." He breathed out.

Remus squinted his eyes and scrunched his nose at him. "Hah?"

"Always being shut out. Always being told everything you do is wrong. Being forced to split apart." Roman grabbed the hands that were on his shoulders to move them down and squeeze them reassuringly. "You experienced all of that too. Even more than I did…Don't you want to raise hell too?"

Roman grinned in a very in unprincely manner and released Remus' hands. He swept his arms aside in a grand motion. "Let's raise hell together, brother. What do you say?"

Remus stared at him blankly for a moment before breaking out into a shit eating grin of his own. "Hell yeah! Hell mother fucking yeah!" He jumped up and down excitedly and clapped his hands. "Oh! We're gonna have so much fun! Those butt holes have no idea what's coming."

Roman chuckled fondly at his brother's enthusiasm. He felt lighter than he had in years. Free of responsibility. Free of expectations. Free of limitations. Free to do whatever he wanted. Speaking of which…

"You mentioned fashion earlier, didn't you?" Roman pulled at the hem of his shirt in thought before smirking up at Remus. "I believe for me to officially join the dark sides, a makeover may be in order."

Remus nodded and grabbed his brother's hand to drag him back inside, chanting, "Makeover time! Makeover time!" The entire way while pumping his fist victoriously into the air.

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

The next morning, in Thomas' living room.

"-and a part of taking care of yourself is to not self-deprecate." Janus was explaining, standing next to Logan.

"Yeah, you've gotta compliment yourself sometimes, Thomas!" Patton added happily.

Thomas scratched the back of his head nervously. "I don't know guys... isn't that a little…"

"Conceited?" Virgil cut in, glaring over at Janus' before looking back to Thomas. "What if we end up doing that out loud in front of others? What if people think we're stuck up?"

"Well, it's better than always thinking so negatively of himself." Janus spat out.

"Janus has a point, Virgil. It's been proven that constant self-deprecating behavior can have a wide range of negative effects on one's psyche and mental health." Logan chinned in while adjusting his glasses. "Which could also lead to eventual negative effects on one's physical health, including-"

"Well, I mean yeah!-" Virgil rushed to interrupt, "He shouldn't think too badly of himself...but he shouldn't think too highly of himself, either!" He uncrossed his arms and gestured towards the empty space where Roman usually stood. "I mean, what if Thomas ends up as stuck up as Princy here, huh? What would you do then-"

"Wait-" Thomas interrupted him, "Where is Roman? Has anyone seen him lately?"

The sides fell silent as they all looked curiously towards the empty spot.

"I haven't seen him since Janus joined us... Patton, didn't you check up on him or something?"

"Well, yeah! Of course I did kiddo!" Patton nodded then pouted, "He didn't seem to want to talk to me though…"

"Has anyone actually talked to Roman in a while? Where is he?"

The sides gave Thomas varying degrees of shrugs and noncommittal answers in response.

Thomas sighed, "Really, guys?" He then looked towards the corner again and called out, "Roman! Are you there? Are you listening? If so, come on up! You should join us!"

They waited in awkward silence for a while for Roman to appear, or to at least respond to Thomas' call...until they heard a deep chuckle emanating from behind the tv.

"Join you? Nope! Not possible~"

Hands crept out from behind the tv, grabbing onto the wall, causing everyone in the room to immediately be alert. They remembered the last time they saw hands there...this couldn't be good! Something was wrong! Sure enough, Remus slowly emerged, climbing up the wall as if he was a lizard. He then twisted his head around, causing Patton to almost faint from fear. Thomas, meanwhile, backed away as far as he could without falling over the couch.

"I'm afraid he's already joined someone else!~"

Remus jumped off of the wall to land in Roman's designated spot. His head and body shifted back to their original positions and he grinned at the others with his arms spread out. Now, the others could see that along with his usual attire, he also donned a crooked and cracked silver crown atop his head. His purplish eyeshadow was gone, instead replaced with a messily applied sparkly silver eyeshadow. Some of the glitter from it fell down the sides of his face to freckle his cheeks as well. The wide grin of his lips was painted in a deep green lipstick.

"Me!"

"Remus…?" Janus breathed out, confused.

"I didn't call for you! I called for Roman!" Thomas shouted once he had regained his composure from witnessing such a horrifying sight.

Virgil bristled and stood up from where he had been leaning against the stairs. "Where is he? What did you do with him?" He bared his teeth at Remus as if he was an agitated guard dog.

Remus put his hands on his hips and threw his head back with a laugh. "What did I do to him?" He leaned forward with a smirk. "What did you do to him? Huh?"

"Wha-what do you mean? W-we didn't do anything..." Stammered out Patton.

"Also, did he change his makeup?" Muttered Thomas, "It actually looks kinda good…"

"Focus on the main issue here, dudes!" Virgil snapped his fingers at them both before turning back to Remus. "Okay, whatever. It doesn't matter wherever you put him, just give him back!"

Remus chuckled and stepped to the side, "You hear that, dear brother? Sounds like they're ready for you to come out!~"

At that, the tv seemed to flicker to life. A colorful error screen appeared and started to crackle and fizz. As the glow from the tv lit up the room, the rest of the room started to glitch along with it.

The sides glanced around nervously, fear creeping into their bones once more.

"What's going on? What's happening to the room?!" Thomas panicked.

Logan placed a hand on his chin. "These types of spatial effects seeming to happen in Thomas' physical living room instead of just inside the mindscape...could it be?"

"No…" Gasped Janus, "No, it can't be!"

"Oh but it can!~" Announced another voice from inside the tv.

Hands reached out from inside the error screen to grasp the sides of the tv. A form slowly climbed out of the tv and stepped into the living room.

"......Roman? What on earth are you wearing?!" Virgil waved a hand incredulously at his new get up.

Roman, now fully standing beside Remus in his usual spot, smirked at Virgil and flicked his cape. "It's called fashion, Midnight Query."

Roman's usual outfit was now black in all of the areas it used to be white. On top of that, he wore a red velvet cape with a white and black spotted fur trim. On his shoulder laid a skull where the cape connected and clasped shut. His upper eyelid was decorated in sparkly gold eyeshadow and thick black eyeliner which spread out into a cat-eye look. His smirk donned blood red lipstick and a crown identical to Remus' was atop his head, except his crown was golden and not crooked or cracked at all. He looked like he had stepped right out of a fairytale…but as an evil king instead of a noble prince.

"Perhaps you should try it sometime, Dark and Dreary. It might make you look less…" Roman made a point of looking Virgil up and down before waving his hand at him with a scowl, "Drab."

"Roman! Where have you been? I missed you. Your makeup looks great!" Patton rambled ecstatically.

"Missed me?" He sneered, "Ha! I bet you all didn't even realize that I was gone." Roman then looked down to check his meticulously manicured nails with a bored expression.

"Of course we did! That's why I called you!" Insisted Thomas.

Roman tsked and shook his head. "Oh Thomas, Thomas. Always the peacemaker." He moved the hand he had been checking to flip his cape over his shoulder. "But I'm not here to make peace. We're here to raise hell. Isn't that right, brother?"

In response, Remus summoned a pitch black flamberge sword and stabbed the blade into the ground. "Hell yeah we are!"

The area of the floor that he smashed cracked open to reveal an eerie green and yellow glow. Small shadow hands emerged as little demons started crawling through the cracks.

Roman summoned a longsword with a ruby embedded in its hilt and slashed at the wall. Red and orange flames burst forth from the rip as even more shadow demons started to join them.

The glitching of the room from the tv screen grew at an alarming rate, some of the glitches covering entire pieces of furniture.

"What on earth is happening!?" Thomas screamed, gesturing wildly at, well, everything.

"Roman, you need to stop this now!" Virgil growled, slipping into his Tempest Tongue.

"Yeah kiddo," chuckled Patton nervously as he tried to wrestle his hoodie away from a demon that was currently trying to steal it. "Isn't this a tad bit extreme?"

Roman laughed darkly, raising his sword into a shrug. "And why should I?"

Remus rested his elbow on Roman's shoulder, "We haven't even begun to have our fun yet!"

Janus narrowed his eyes at Remus, "Remus, this is not what I meant when I said-"

"Blah blah blah!" Remus mimed a mouth with his hand. "That's all you are, anacon-don't. All talk, no action!"

"What's going on?! Why isn't anyone answering me?!"

"Well, Thomas, it appears that Roman and Remus have initiated-" Logan started only to get interrupted by Virgil.

"They started Daymare Mode!" Virgil shouted as he angrily threw a demon that had been crawling on him into the wall, knocking it out instantly.

"Daymare Mode? What's Daymare Mode?!"

"It's a combination of Daydream Mode and Nightmare Mode." Janus explained while shaking a demon off of his hat with a sneer, "It's a state Creativity can only achieve when it's whole…"

"So, what? They can affect the real world now that they're working together?!"

"Don't be ridiculous, Thomas." Chastised Logan, "You're technically just hallucinating-"

"I'm hallucinating?!"

"Yes, that is what I just said."

A demon tugged at Logan's pant leg only to be sent running away in fear by a well-placed harsh glare.

Patton, finally having gotten his hoodie free, tied it back around his shoulders and clapped his hands. "Okay, you two! That's enough. I'm not sure what's gotten into you today, but-"

"Oh no, no, no." Roman waved a finger at him, "I'm afraid we're not going to be listening to you anymore, padre."

"We've got our own plans, Daddy DingDong!"

"Oh yeah?" Hissed Janus, "And what exactly are those?"

"You can't do them, whatever they are!" Virgil yelled out as he stomped on another demon's tail, sending it hopping away in pain. "We won't let you. I won't let you!"

Remus and Roman exchanged amused glances before turning back to the others.

"You don't have to let us do anything," Roman hummed, "We're the kings. We shall do whatever we want." He waved a dismissive hand.

"Hear ye, Hear ye! The Twin Kings of Creativity!" Hollered Remus, as both twins raised their swords triumphantly in the air, "We take no shit and kick some ass!"

"To us!" Roman high fived Remus' hand, then turned to grin menacingly at the others, "And now, time for you to go to hell."

"To hell?!" Thomas gasped, looking desperately back and forth at the other sides.

Logan's eyes widened, having figured out what they were planning to do. "Roman, if I'm correct- and I always am- then I'd advise against-"

"Too late, Deuce Banner!" Remus shouted triumphantly as he and Roman clashed their weapons together. The sound from the clang resonated in all of their heads, making their vision blurry.

Thomas gripped the sides of his head, trying to get the ringing to stop hurting his ears. His head felt like it was splitting open. And then, there was nothing. Just a fade to black.

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

Thomas gasped for air as he woke up. Wait, woke up? Had it all been a dream? Thank god-!

"Well, well, well. It's about damn time." Drawled Roman.

"We thought you were never gonna come to!" Laughed Remus.

Thomas jumped up in surprise from where he'd been laying on the floor, only to immediately regret moving so harshly as he felt his head swim. "Ow ow ow." He gripped his forehead and peered around, "What-"

"Welcome, welcome!" Roman proclaimed as he spread his arms out in a grand gesture. "To the Kingdom of Creativity."

Thomas looked up to see Roman and Remus sitting side by side on twin thrones, one gold with red cushions and one silver with green cushions. Roman sat up straight with impeccable posture and one leg crossed over the other. Remus lay sideways across his throne, kicking his feet and tossing what appeared to be a grenade up and down as if it was a baseball.

"...What? Where am I?"

"We just told you." Scoffed Roman, "You're in the Kingdom of Creativity." At Thomas' confused frown, he continued, "You're in our room, Thomas."

"Your room?" Thomas looked around at the ornate throne room. "It doesn't look like my living room, like the others' did."

"That's cause we're not as boring as the other sides." Sighed Roman, "We have much more pizazz." He gestured at the room around them. "We did some redecorating recently, actually. What do you think, hmm?"

The throne room was mainly black, with silver and gold furniture giving the darkness a stark contrast. Banners of their two symbols hung on opposite sides of the room in correspondence with each side's throne. Overall it gave off a majestic yet eerie feel.

"It's- Um." Thomas finally stood up from his position on the floor and glanced around nervously. "It's certainly something. But um, where are the others…?"

He had long since noticed that it was just him and the twins in this room. The others had seemingly vanished into thin air. Their continued disappearance was making him more and more uneasy as each second ticked by.

Remus huffed and casually threw the grenade over his shoulder and out a window, causing an explosion to be heard outside. "What's wrong Thomathy, our room not up to snuff with the others? You prefer Daddyo's and Scene-Kid's rooms? Huh?"

"What? No!" Thomas raised his hands placatingly, not wanting to anger the two currently volatile sides, "You're room is fine! It's great! It's just they were here and now they're not here and I was just wondering-"

"They're off on their own adventure right now, Thomas." Roman butted in. He leaned forward to place his elbows on his knees and his chin in his hands. "That doesn't matter, though. What matters right now is us. Don't you want to stay here with us, Thomas? We can show you around the castle~!"

"Um- No, that's fine... No thank you." Thomas smiled as his voice shook. "I'm sorry, I can't stay here... I need to find the others."

Roman's pleased smile immediately fell into a scowl, "Fine, then. You want to see the others so badly?" He stood up from his throne and gestured for his brother to do the same. "Then why don't you just join them already!"

The both summoned their new weapons again, causing Thomas to start to panic. "Wait! Don't! Not again!"

"Too late, Thomas. You should have accepted our gracious offer."

"We could've had so much fun together!" Chirped Remus.

"And we will! You're just not ready yet, it seems." Roman sighed with a disappointed frown, "Now, for the time being~"

"Have fun in hell instead!~" The twins chimed in unison as they clashed their swords together for a second time.

The clanging rang in Thomas' already aching head as everything fell into the blackness once more.

[scoundrels-in-love]

Almost 300 years a week later, here are some of my thoughts on Dan Ah and her actions through ep 11 and 12. I will try not to repeat too much of the points I made here, or elsewhere in my rambles, but if it happens, it happens. + I won’t operate on mindset that you’ve read it.

First, I think her saying ‘apologies are meaningless, I can’t take back things I said, only make up for it’ is incredibly telling of her as person and the kind of environment she grew up in - the high society and family where apologies are dished out hollowly and never followed through with intention of changing something for the better or your behavior. Time and how you spend it is very important to her. She even says as much in her confession and I think it only outlines how much her time is the one thing she tries to have control of, and exert it (over herself as well). Considering the concept of possibly terminal illness that she suffers from, it makes sense. She doesn’t have time to be patient, no one will wait for her, including her own health. Yeong Hwa is the one immovable object that forces her to slow down and readjust her whole approach to life and it’s been... Not comfortable, necessarily, but it’s been functional, so she struggles to redefine it, especially without real example.

Second, there’s lot of parallels to be drawn between her and Mi Joo. And I ended up writing this all backwards, so I am not sure if I’ll manage to include it, but in some ways, Mi Joo’s line about ‘I value myself more than anyone else’ both in the sense that she’s the most important to herself and that no one else values her truly highly is very reminiscent of Dan Ah’s attitude and the way she admitted she isn’t in control of her life entirely o Mi Joo.

And there’s. of course, that moment when Mi Joo responded sarcastically to Seun Gyeom, later to apologize for it, which he took in a stride (much as he had said that he had never felt Dan Ah walked over him unjustly), because he does understand where they come from and how they work, on a certain level (even if he underestimated just how his father would strike and manage to hurt Mi Joo). I think Dan Ah isn’t at place where she cay say that yet, but I do believe sentiment is within her.

If someone asked what motivates Dan Ah, her answer could be similar to Mi Joo’s - fear and obsession, rather than Seun Gyeom’s regret. Fear of being controlled, of being weak and sick, obsession of having and exerting certain power and keeping yourself safe. Now, this point altogether is purely speculation on my part, of course, but that’s my read on the character, but also her anxiety has been mentioned several times and anxiety is basically that - fear, especially of things going wrong/being out of control, if we wish to trivialize it.

And although Dan Ah merely adds that whatever she had, got taken away from her, she basically used same method as Mi Joo - set her goals and opted for the best ‘fake’ that she could get, in this case her company, rather than being football player or the gallery. Both, in the same way, would rather put up walls to not lose what little they have but the men in their lives just... Bypassed them.

It’s interesting to note that similarly as Mi Joo is currently trying to sort ouf what is real and to go for, instead of relying on having a ‘fake’, so does Dan Ah - it’s likely she is planning to expose the illegitimate status of both her brothers to gain what is technically rightfully hers (hence asking her younger brother to side with her even when it will not be comfortable for him).

Third, I think the way she’s seeking out Mi Joo and her opinion is very interesting. And it does loop back to Yeong Hwa as well!

From the very start, we see that Dan Ah actually cares to listen to other people to an extent (she asks her secretary what she did wrong to upset Seun Gyeom, even if she ends the conversation how much simpler it’d be if all of us thought were similar, which is strongly undermined by all of her interactions with Mi Joo and even Yeong Hwa essentially). She is interested in experiencing being opposed and challenged in a way that is not downright demeaning as she does in her family. She finds their view on world interesting, if somewhat incomprehensible, and listens to it, processes it inwardly, even if her initial reaction might be defensive. (Also, it shows from start she’s willing to admit she doesn’t have all answers, same as she does with Yeong Hwa telling him that she doesn’t know what answer he wants - as she would need to know in business deal which is what most of her world consists of.)

But in some ways, I also think she is interested in what Seun Gyeom and Mi Joo have created and how. She basically instantly could tell Seun Gyeom is interested in Mi Joo which is implied as rare occurrence (or perhaps even the only time since she says she’s the last woman he liked and he debunks the theory), she asks several times what Mi Joo sees in Seun Gyeom that makes her so protective of him (which I think is both a way to see how deeply Mi Joo cares for him and to see more of Seun Gyeom). But also in some way, although it is her own act to let Seun Gyeom, she “loses” him to his own path and Mi Joo both. Because I do think she cares for him as a friend, perhaps only one she has.

Although she puts Seun Gyeom’s picture by the trash, it’s actually not taken out for several days and it’s definitely not because the secretary or the cleaner are neglecting their duties. Rather, same way as he didn’t throw away the honey but handed it back to Yeong Hwa, the secretary is aware she’s not really emotionally throwing him away. Because once she likes something, she never really stops, as per her own admission.

So there’s this certain feeling of loss that she can’t quite admit to herself and want to know both what Mi Joo saw and supported in Seun Gyeom and how and a yearning for something similar, because this is basically the first friendship/not work based relationship of the kind that she sees. (The same way she marvels is this how full-blood siblings are supposed to be when Eun Bi is upset about Seun Gyeom’s picture and how she defends her brother and then, Dan Ah actually ‘tattles’ on her so he can protect her, which can be covered up with excuse it was over the schedule, but was it really?)

In fact, she seems to be somewhat envious of relationship her brother has with her secretary, saying he still cares for her brother more and also the way she wanted to be included in the whole cat talk. She is upset when he doesn’t say he’s her person, but employed by the company, she protects him the way she knows how to (regarding revenge kick) and generally cares for him. She just wants someone truly and personally on her side, even though she probably has a hard time admitting it to herself which results in these odd and halfway there and nowhere attempts, especially paired with  the fact she doesn’t really know how to establish not-work-related connection on a deeper level.

I will add point fourth here, although it’s still technically third. It’s safer, far more practical and logical to stay detached. But the heart wants what it wants and it’s friendship, connection, being liked for who she is and being challenged but not seen as lesser, with someone who won’t smile because she’s his boss, although that sort of control is precious and hard fought to be had in part of her life.

Caring for something or someone is relinquishing this control, basically inviting the same result Seun Gyeom got taste of at ep of 12, the result she already experienced with her dreams of being football player crushed. Except if it involves another person, it increases the chances of being hurt by them exponentially. And it’s also worth considering that if her relationship with mother was close, she’s also already experienced abandonment and grief of losing someone dear and close. (Which, of the leads, only Mi Joo knows and even then it’s more the absence of reflection what other people around her have which hurts, but in a different way, as per my experience.)

Concept of Mi Joo’s friendship, and Yeong Hwa as a whole, become very images of these unsaid wish fulfillment because they’re not trying to be.

They’re themselves, argumentative and challenging, and teasing, despite her being ‘above them’ in power hierarchy, leveling the field by merely ignoring it, and, initially, she doesn’t even try to get Yeong Hwa sign a contract, it’s only when her own yearning for his work (and for him), and him denying her any of it becomes a problem that she ‘admits’ it was her own fault for not drawing the sort of lines she’s used to with everyone else, and even then she’s not really thrilled about him agreeing to it, because it’s not really what she wants from him, although it’s what would be the safest and make the most actual sense within her world.

Even then, as her employee, he refuses to follow her orders and tells her plainly - if she wants something, she is to be vulnerable and invest herself into it (she actually tries, by smiling because he had said it was cute) and she has to admit to herself and to him, that he has grown onto her, not as a ‘vending machine’ or ���employee’, but person whose opinion and feelings toward her are very important to her.

Also, it’s very telling how she tells him she belongs to herself, of course, and that he, too, can still belong to himself. She wants him as individual separate from herself, but the thought that he is firmly on her side obviously makes her very happy. In some ways, it’s also upgrade from ‘my person’ claim she makes toward her secretary, a learning curve.

Fifth, I suppose. While I rewatched some scenes to make sure I wasn’t actually misremembering, I started to think of another motif that repeats through her conversations.

Dan Ah repeatedly tells him not to have expectations, sentiments, disappointments toward her. From one side, it’s to draw a clear line of employee/employer and view each other in a detached way (that she tries again and again herself, but fails to), but from other, is it that simple?

She is almost crying when she asks him if he’s really stopped liking her and from preview, we learn that no one has asked her out before, seemingly? Probably because she was too much of a boss ass bitch, but still possibly left with a certain sense of inadequacy and that ‘when I am being apologetically me and I will always be that, I am not likeable although I do not entirely understand why’, as per her wondering why people always think she’s mean when by most of her society’s standards, she is rather thoughtful.

Her want of gallery has been brought up several times, her older half brother often says her pick of artist will never be good enough, her father still sees her as a tool to marry off. She as person with her goals and dreams and what she has achieved, just isn’t good enough for people around her at large.

The moment he cares for her, the moment she inherently becomes capable of disappointing him. The moment she cares for him, the moment she becomes capable of disappointing him. And that thought, of doing that and not enough to Yeong Hwa who has sneakily smiled his way into her heart, the growing awareness she truly doesn’t know how to be in some aspects, is overwhelming and painful and she tries to shut the door to it.

Also, he tells her he likes her no matter what he does, but he hates it, which I imagine is double the punch and she tries to find a solution that would make him happy and stop hating it - the perfect answer, as she would in a business deal, but she can’t, until she commits to the truly mortifying ordeal of being known (as suggested by Mi Joo).

Sixth, I really liked that she (or the narrative) didn’t make fun of Yeong Hwa crying. In fact, she’s eyerolled about her younger brother’s temper, but not really in the present made fun of him for apparently being a ‘crybaby’ in the past. I think that in a sense shows her actual streak of empathy and maybe the fact that she’s familiar with need to cry herself and doesn’t find it ‘weak’ as most ‘tougher’ characters would. Also perhaps that she cares for her younger brother more than she has admitted to herself, similarly as she kept denying she cared for Yeong Hwa and went rather far to hurt him.

[mikauzoran]

Lukadrien: Zebras Can’t Change Their Stripes: Chapter Four

Read it on AO3: Zebras Can’t Change Their Stripes: Chapter Four

When Adrien woke up, everything smelled fresh and clean, like fabric softener and laundry detergent.

He was warm and dry, and the bed, the covers, and his pyjamas were all comfortable and soft.

He’d been holding his cat plushie, Chat Noir the Third, when he’d fallen asleep, and C3 was still tucked under Adrien’s arm, fur fuzzy against Adrien’s skin.

It was comforting. In a way, it reminded him of Plagg and how they would sometimes snuggle.

Adrien rolled over onto his back and hugged C3 closer.

Grief and joy mingled in Adrien’s chest as he stared up at the clean, white ceiling.

The morning sun was pouring in through Adrien’s windows in a cheerful, inviting way that Adrien had never experienced in his old room with his old windows.

He was safe. He had a home—a real home this time.

It had been eleven years since he had last had a true home…since he’d lost his mother and the mansion had become silent, cold, and empty.

But now Adrien was home and safe and wanted.

He buried his face in C3’s fur, remembering what Luka had told him the previous day: Luka had bought C3 for Adrien so that he would remember he was loved.

It had been a long time since Adrien was last loved, and the prospect of getting something like that back was overwhelming.

He set C3 aside so that he wouldn’t get him dirty as he cried.

He couldn’t pinpoint exactly why he was crying, if it were happiness or sadness or stress, but it felt good to get the emotions out.

When he was done, he sat up, cleaned his face with the tissues on the nightstand, and got out of bed, ready to do his best with the second chance he’d been given.

It felt amazing to get dressed in new, clean clothes with the knowledge that he could throw them in the laundry whenever he felt like it at no charge and that he didn’t have to sleep in them or wear them for multiple days at a time.

It was really nice to have a spacious, private bathroom with a door that locked where he didn’t have to worry about the sanitation.

Well…Luka’s bathroom was currently a mess with toothpaste and shaving cream smudges on the counter and mirror and grooming products left spread out all over the place. Used towels were scattered, crumpled on the floor, and the medicine cabinet was left open.

But Adrien wasn’t necessarily worried, unlike he had been when using other bathrooms where he didn’t even want to think about what kind of germs were growing on surfaces.

Once dressed, Adrien went to Luka’s door and listened for signs that his roommate was awake.

The apartment was still, and Adrien didn’t see any light peeking out from underneath the door, so he assumed that Luka was still sleeping and, instead, made his way to the kitchen.

It was a war zone that had been subsequently ravaged by flood, famine, and pestilence.

It was hard to believe that things could go to ruin in as few as six days, but Adrien was seeing the evidence with his own eyes. Luka was the comparatively neat and tidy Couffaine, but The Breakup had obviously laid him very low indeed.

Dishes were piled high in the sink and crusted with days-old food debris, so Adrien rinsed and scrubbed to the best of his ability before loading them all up in the dishwasher.

Hardly anything in the fridge was worth salvaging.

Adrien got out trash bags from under the sink and started checking dates. He sniffed the items that still resembled food and summarily tossed the ones that were more petri dish than pasta.

He cleared off the counters, sorting the refuse from the misplaced possessions and raided the cabinet below the sink for cleaning supplies.

Once the kitchen was spotless, he expanded his efforts to the living room, picking up the dirty clothes, junk food wrappers, and takeaway containers.

He located the mop, broom, and vacuum cleaner in the coat closet and set about sweeping, reasoning that he would vacuum the rug once Luka was awake so that he didn’t disturb him.

With the living room looking presentable, he gathered up the rubbish, dirty clothes, and items needing to be returned to their respective homes, putting each grouping in their own location to be dealt with later. He then moved on to the bathroom.

By the time he was done tidying and scrubbing, it was midmorning, and he was starting to get kind of hungry. When he’d woken up, he’d still been full from the ridiculous amount of food he’d eaten the day before, but after burning so many calories cleaning, his body was getting ready to eat again.

Luka still hadn’t emerged from his room, so Adrien left a note on the blank page of a sketchbook he had found while cleaning to let Luka know that he hadn’t run away. He was just grocery shopping.

He tore another empty page out of the sketchbook so that he could write up a list of the things he needed from the store.

There was a Monoprix just up the street from the apartment, so it took him less than an hour to walk there, shop, and make it back home again.

He picked up a croissant from the bakery section to snack on as he cooked breakfast but noted that it paled in comparison to what he remembered of those from Tom and Sabine’s.

Adrien was beginning to think that Luka was dead as he plated the food. It was almost noon, and Adrien hadn’t heard a peep.

Luka had looked exhausted the previous day, and he’d mentioned not sleeping well since The Breakup, so maybe he was just catching up on sleep, but Adrien had enough experience with depression to know that it was time to step in and drag his flatmate out of bed.

He knocked on the door, but there was no response.

Taking a deep breath, he turned the knob and discovered it was unlocked.

“Luka, I’m going to be really mad if you’re actually dead,” Adrien grumbled, hesitantly pushing the door open. “Luka?”

Adrien blinked as he got his first glimpse at the inside of Luka’s bedroom.

It was even worse than the rest of the apartment, and that was saying something. Garbage and dirty clothes were strewn everywhere, and the floor was like a minefield of filth.

“Oh, Luka,” Adrien cooed, carefully making his way across the room to the bed. “You’re really hurting, aren’t you?”

Luka snored softly, deaf to Adrien’s sympathy.

“Orpheus.” Adrien kept his voice quiet as he gently shook Luka’s shoulder, not wanting to startle his friend. “Luka? Hey. Wake up.”

Luka drew in a long breath, and his eyes slowly blinked open.

He stared up at Adrien in a daze.

“Angel,” he whispered, reaching out to stroke Adrien’s cheek.

Adrien was torn between enjoying the attention immensely and feeling guilty about it because Luka was obviously still out of it.

“You are not awake,” Adrien chuckled, carefully removing Luka’s palm from his face. “Earth to Luka. Come in, Luka.”

Luka gave a jolt as he blinked and his eyes came into focus. “Oh my gosh. Adrien. Sorry. Hi. What’s wrong? Did you need something?”

“It’s breakfast time. Get up,” Adrien teased, tugging on Luka’s arm lightly.

Luka cursed under his breath. “I am so sorry. Give me just a minute and I’ll go to the grocery store and then make you some breakfast.”

Adrien snorted in laughter. “No need. It is I who have made you breakfast. Come eat before it gets cold.”

Luka blinked at Adrien. “You what?”

“I made omuraisu,” Adrien explained with a pleased smile.

“You what?” Luka repeated, wondering if his ears were failing him.

His Adrien didn’t cook.

“I’m twenty-four,” Adrien enunciated. “I make my own breakfast. Now, get up or I’m seriously climbing in bed with you and pushing you out.”

“…You made breakfast?” Luka echoed in disbelief as he followed Adrien toward the door.

“Yep,” Adrien confirmed with a pop to the p. “I’ve worked in a lot of kitchens these past few years. The chefs taught me some things.”

They stepped out into the living room, and Luka had to do a doubletake. “Faeries came during the night and cleaned the apartment.”

Adrien cracked up. “I mean…it’s not like this is the first time someone’s ever called me a faerie, but…I prefer the term ‘knight in leather armor’.”

Luka gawked at Adrien. “You cleaned the apartment?”

His Adrien wouldn’t know what to do with a broom if his life depended on it…unless he needed to use the broom as a weapon. His Adrien had that covered, but to use a broom for its intended purpose…

Adrien came to a stop in the kitchen, pushing one of the plates of omuraisu towards Luka.

“Surprise,” he announced softly, a sad expression in his eyes that made him look older than Luka had ever remembered. “I’m a functional, responsible adult now too.”

“Yeah,” Luka breathed, looking at Adrien with new eyes. “You went and grew up on me, didn’t you?”

He pulled Adrien into a tight hug, and Adrien squeezed back.

“I had to get it together pretty quickly,” Adrien confessed bitterly. “I cook, clean, do laundry… I even scrub toilets now.”

Luka pulled back, looking mortified. “Please tell me you didn’t clean the bathroom.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” Adrien assured.

Luka dropped his forehead to Adrien’s shoulder and let out an animalistic groan. “I am so, so sorry. I swear I was going to clean everything today.”

“I know. I believed you when you kept telling me so last night,” Adrien informed. “It was just that you were completely wiped out, and I saw an opportunity to be helpful.”

Adrien took Luka’s face in his hands and tipped it up to look him in the eye. “This isn’t like before when I’d sneak out and come visit you when I was upset. I may still be a mess, but you’re a wreck too at the moment, and, now, I’m able to help and support you too.”

“Don’t sound so pleased about me being a disaster,” Luka chuckled, horrified and amused all at once.

“I promise I’m not. I’m just glad that I can finally do something for you after all you’ve done for me.” Adrien gave Luka a sincere smile and then stepped back to focus on his food. “Eat your breakfast already.”

Luka sighed, resigning himself to this alternate universe where his Adrien was fully capable of taking care of himself.

“Thank you,” he stressed, digging into the omuraisu. “…Geez, this is good!”

Adrien smirked around his fork. “Told you so.”

“What else can you make?” Luka wondered through a mouthful of rice and egg.

“I specialize in ethnic food,” Adrien preened. “I do desserts passably too, so maybe tomorrow I can make tiramisu and chickpea coconut cashew curry.”

Luka bit his tongue to stop himself from confessing his eternal love to Adrien because it was way too soon after The Breakup to be developing feelings for anyone. Besides, Adrien was vulnerable; Luka would be taking advantage of Adrien’s dependency on him if he made any kind of move.

He never wanted Adrien to feel pressured into anything for fear of winding up back on the street again.

Instead of the declaration of love, Luka smiled gratefully. “I’m really, really glad you came back into my life yesterday.”

Adrien paused, looking taken aback for a moment, his fork pausing halfway to his mouth. “You like curry that much?”

“It’s not just about the curry,” Luka chuckled. “Thank you for all of this.”

“Sure.” Adrien returned the smile with a grin full of pride. “I’m not even done yet. I still have your room to clean.”

“No,” Luka groaned. “I can clean my own room.”

“I’m sure you can, but I’m going to help you,” Adrien informed in a tone that told Luka he would not be backing down. “You can tell me what you don’t want me touching, but I can at least help sort the trash from the dirty clothes from the dishes from the stuff that just needs to be put away.”

“I will consider letting you help,” Luka conceded through gritted teeth.

“Perfect!” Adrien chirped cheerily. “…So, I didn’t start any laundry yet because I wasn’t sure what your preferences were, but this evening after we sort through the stuff in your room, you can tell me how you want your laundry done, and I can work on that while you hide your dirty magazines or whatever.”

Luka rolled his eyes. He was pretty sure that Adrien remembered that Luka was demi and didn’t experience sexual attraction unless he had a strong emotional connection with someone and, therefore, had no need for dirty magazines. They’d talked a lot about sexuality when Adrien was sixteen/seventeen and trying to figure things out. Adrien didn’t have trusted adults to talk to, and Luka was actually really honored that Adrien had come to him.

“I will consider letting you help with laundry,” Luka repeated with a shake of his head.

“Great. So…status update,” Adrien prattled right along, leaning his forearms on the counter as he consumed his omuraisu. “I gathered all the trash and piled it up in bags by the door because I didn’t know what the building’s trash collection procedure was.”

“We can take it down to the dumpster on our way out the door to band practice,” Luka replied.

“Cool.” Adrien nodded, taking in the information. “I also piled all the clothing articles in two heaps over by the couch….” He hesitated, biting his bottom lip. “…Not all of the clothes are yours. I can wash them and fold them up in a trash bag so you don’t have to see them, if you’d like.”

Luka winced. “…I don’t know right now. Sorry.”

“That’s okay,” Adrien rushed to assure. “I’ll just go ahead and do that, and then you can deal with them whenever you’re ready.”

“I really hope there wasn’t anything too embarrassing,” Luka groaned.

Adrien grimaced. “You both have impeccable taste in underwear?”

“I want to die,” Luka replied with an ironic smile.

“It seriously wasn’t a big deal,” Adrien stressed. “…Though, I wasn’t able to determine as easily what was yours as far as possessions go, so I just lined them up neatly against the wall out of the way. I hope that was okay? You don’t have to go through them anytime soon. They can just wait until you’re ready.”

Luka reached out and rested a hand on Adrien’s bicep. “Thank you.”

Adrien placed his hand over Luka’s and smiled. “What are friends for?”

“For times like this,” Luka hummed, feeling blessed.

There was a beat, and then Adrien went back to his status update. “I cleaned out the fridge and went shopping for the essentials, but we’ll need to shop again tonight or tomorrow for the rest of the week. Also, I bought a cheap rice cooker. I hope that’s okay. I had a rice cooker up until a few months ago, and I used to cook all kinds of things in it. I can do a lot with a rice cooker.”

Luka grinned, watching Adrien fondly as he animatedly recounted his rice cooker culinary adventures.

Adrien had slipped so easily into Luka’s life, making himself indispensable in less than twenty-four hours. It left Luka wondering what he’d been doing without Adrien for the past four years.

 “Émile!” Josie cried, sprinting across the bar and enveloping Adrien in a fierce hug.

Luka, smiling fondly, stepped around them and went over to get the things he’d left with Jacob the previous day from the bassist. “Glad to know I mean nothing to you, Josie.”

Josie ignored Luka, focusing all of her enthusiasm on Adrien. “Look at you! You clean up nice, Kid! Look at your little baby face! You are the cutest thing. I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too, Josie,” Adrien chuckled, hugging her back with genuine affection.

Luka couldn’t stop grinning because Adrien was adorable. He got attached to people so quickly.

Jacob looked back and forth between Luka and Adrien and quirked an eyebrow quizzically. “You two came together?” he whispered so only Luka would hear.

“He’s actually my roommate now,” Luka confessed, wanting to get this conversation over sooner rather than later.

Jacob’s eyes bugged out. “Dude. You work fast,” he hissed. “You’re already shacked up?”

“No.” Luka winced. “It’s not like that. It’s completely platonic. He just needed a place to stay.”

Jacob nodded, not believing that for a second. “Right.”

“Émile!” Marc greeted, leaving his guitar propped against his keyboard on stage to go give Adrien a hug. “Hey, Kiddo. I did get your text with your phone number. Sorry I didn’t text back. I read it right away, but I was in the middle of burning food, and I completely forgot.”

“No worries,” Adrien assured, returning the hug and absolutely loving it. “So long as you got the message.”

Luka promptly shoved down the little niggling of jealousy that sprouted up at seeing Adrien being affectionate with another guy.

Josie quickly distracted him as she came over and hung off of his shoulder. “You don’t look like crap today.”

“Thank you?” Luka frowned, trying to decide whether to be insulted.

“He said Émile needed a place to stay, so he moved in with him yesterday,” Jacob reported, looking at Josie expectantly.

Josie’s eyes went wide. “Wow. Very opportunist. You get any yet?”

Luka swatted her away. “It’s platonic. I just broke up with The Girl, guys. I am not jumping into anything for a very long time.”

“Are you trying to say that my baby brother isn’t good enough for you to seduce?” Josie snorted, doing a very good job of actually looking offended.

Luka threw his hands up in frustration. “You know, I was having a good day until I had to deal with you two clowns.”

“Émile!” Jacob waved as Adrien and Marc came over to join them. “Sup, Kid?” He opened his arms for a hug which Adrien readily gave.

“Hey, Jacob.” Adrien smiled nervously as he pulled back, reaching up to rub at his neck. “I actually have something I need to tell everyone.”

The band’s expressions suddenly went serious.

“What’s up, Émile?” Josie prompted gently.

Adrien took a deep breath. “That isn’t actually my real name.”

Luka’s eyes widened, and he reached out to rest a hand on Adrien’s shoulder. “You sure you’re ready to do this now?”

Adrien nodded. “Yeah. They’ve shown me nothing but kindness. I don’t want to lie to them.”

“Is your real name ‘Adrien’?” Marc inquired.

Everyone looked to him in surprise.

Adrien blinked. “You knew?”

Josie and Jacob turned to Marc with twin frowns.

“How’d you know that?” Jacob demanded.

Marc shook his head. “I wasn’t sure. I just thought you kind of looked like the billboards I used to see all the time.”

“Billboards?” Josie echoed, arching an eyebrow.

“My name is really Adrien,” Adrien confessed. “Adrien Agreste.”

Jacob blinked. “That…sounds familiar?”

“I used to be a model,” Adrien elaborated. “Especially about ten years ago my face was on everything. You couldn’t get away from the advertisements if you tried…. I’m also known more notoriously as Gabriel Agreste’s son,” Adrien informed, gaze directed intently down at his shoes. “You know. Papillon.”

Jacob promptly pushed Luka out of the way and wrapped his arms around Adrien, announcing, “Just so you all know, this is mine now.”

“I don’t think so,” Josie huffed, coming to join the puppy pile. “I saw him first, but if I get caught when I sneak into jail to assassinate his father, you’d sure as hell better take care of him for me.”

She turned to Adrien (who looked very, very confused).

“You’re adopted,” she declared, her voice just on the right side of calm even as it came out clipped and furious. “There’s no way you’re actually related to that slimewad. He akumatized my little sister when she was being bullied, and there is no way you’re related to him. Besides, like I keep saying, we are officially adopting you now.”

Marc reached out a hand to rest on Adrien’s shoulder. “We’re here for you. Promise.”

“People…don’t usually react like that,” Adrien hiccupped. “They usually want nothing to do with me when they find out who I am.”

“People suck,” Jacob reported. “Obviously, they didn’t put much effort into finding out who you really are because, if they had, they would have discovered that you’re a precious baby who deserves to be loved and protected.”

Adrien turned to Luka with a watery smile. “You pick good people.”

Luka grinned. “I picked you, didn’t I?”

The whole group besides Adrien groaned.

Adrien only smiled.

“…So why ‘Émile Dupain’?” Josie inquired as they slowly pulled away.

“‘Émile’ is actually my second name,” Adrien explained. “I was named after my mom.”

Everyone nodded, making cooing, “that’s so sweet” noises.

“‘Dupain’ I stole from a friend,” he confessed with a blush that made Luka narrow his eyes. “It was the most common surname out of all of my friends, so… Plus, it was like taking a little piece of home with me while I roamed around.”

They all cooed again.

“Wait. Hold up.” Jacob turned and pointed to Luka just as the conversation was about to shift. “He’s not surprised about any of this. Did you tell him already yesterday?”

Adrien bit his lip, smiling guiltily. “I’ve known Luka for about a decade now, actually. I didn’t recognize him yesterday until we were outside on the street, though. He still had blue hair when I last saw him.”

“Man, I dated him when he had the blue hair,” Jacob sighed, shaking his head. “I wouldn’t have let him go so easily if I had known the black hair upgrade was coming.”

“Hey,” Luka grumbled. “I looked good with blue hair. It went with my eyes.”

“I actually think the black offsets your eyes better,” Adrien hummed thoughtfully. “The black makes the blue pop. I like it like this.”

Luka’s brain broke. “O-Oh? You think so?”

Marc put a hand over his mouth, holding in a laugh. “He’s never going to dye his hair again.”

Josie opened her mouth to quip, but then she caught the soft, warm, gooey way Luka was looking at Adrien.

She sucked in a sharp breath. “Holy crap! He’s Adrien!”

Adrien gave a start, suddenly very worried. “Uh…yes? I thought…that was okay?”

She waved her arms, shooing away his concerns. “No. The thing with your father is fine. I meant that you’re Adrien. Luka’s Adrien!”

Jacob’s jaw dropped. “He’s The Boy!?”

Adrien looked to Luka for reassurance, quite obviously anxious at something he had no way of understanding.

Luka grimaced and wrapped a comforting arm around Adrien’s shoulders. “Yes,” he said pointedly. “He’s the dear friend I’ve mentioned many times to you.”

Jacob scoffed under his breath at that.

Marc decided to stay out of it.

“I really was worried about you while you were away,” Luka explained to Adrien. “I may have been a little preoccupied.”

Slowly, Adrien began to nod, thinking he understood. “Sorry again for worrying you.”

“He survived,” Marc assured, beckoning Adrien over to the stage. “He was a real mess for a while, though.”

Josie hung back, giving Luka a skeptical look. “You moved in with The Boy a week after breaking up with The Girl?”

Luka shrugged helplessly. “It’s platonic.”

“You make questionable life decisions,” Jacob snorted. “You’re screwed.”

“He’s going to wish he were,” Josie sighed. “Does your sister know that you’ve set yourself up for total emotional annihilation by platonically moving in with The Boy a week after your breakup with The Girl?”

“Adrien isn’t ready to tell people he’s back in Paris yet, so don’t you dare say anything to Juleka,” Luka growled protectively, getting his friends’ attention.

They shared a look and then held their hands up in surrender.

“We’re just worried about you, Dude,” Jacob clarified sympathetically.

Luka sighed, all the hot air coming out of him. “I’m kind of worried about me too,” he confessed.

[alirhi]

The problem with DJ

Like I said, sweetie gets his own post lol. It's funny how far he's come, from a random side character made just to be killed off, to my go-to RP boy, to my favorite character I've ever written. I'll skip the origin story lol (aka the irrelevant random RPs over the years) and get right to the meat of the problem: Crossroads.

It all really comes back to my flaky friend, A. Back when she was creative and invested, she made this crazy girl, Casey, who DJ fell head-over-heels in love with. Casey was highly toxic and came with some unusual baggage, but that's what I loved about her as a character. And honestly? Every girl in DJ's life is kind of toxic. That was rather the point.

DJ describes himself as "a walking, talking stereotype." He's a broke, drug-addicted teen from the wrong side of the tracks with an abusive alcoholic father. His mother committed suicide when DJ was 4, and DJ's been an addict since he was 13. He's also got ADHD, and he's a genius. Sleeps through the few classes he actually attends and still gets straight As genius. He's got two distinctly different groups of friends: his more straight-laced school friends (most of whom have known him since pre-drug days), and his rave/burnout friends. He's also an indiscriminate (ish XD) manwhore. He'll sleep with literally any girl who shows interest, as long as he's not her first (ties into his lack of self-worth and stuff. he doesn't want anyone to be "stuck with" the memory of him as her first - Casey straight-up lies to his face to get him to fuck her 😂 I love her. she's so awful...)

I eventually gave him a little brother, because I'd never put much thought into why DJ - who, again, is scary smart, and also unnervingly self-aware; pretty much impervious to denial - would do drugs. When he was just a random RP character, I...didn't really care? 😂 His background and motivations were less important than the hijinks he got himself into. But then A fell as hard for him as I did, and we decided to give him a real story, so he needed a real motive. Enter baby brother AJ, who is their father's true target, so DJ does stupid shit to piss dad off and keep those fists flying at him, not baby bro.

When DJ meets Casey, he's drunk and high and accidentally gropes her. She punches him and knocks his ass out lmao. He later apologizes, and she and her twin brother Seamus join DJ's school friend group, and she and DJ become fwb. That's the most he can really offer; DJ doesn't date, because he knows he won't be faithful, so why string a girl along? Naturally, because he's book smart but otherwise kind of a moron (lol not really, just no will to live. he tried to kill himself 3 times before he was introduced to drugs. his friends keep warning him about STDs and he's like "eh, death by karma actually sounds pretty apropos") he ends up getting Casey (and a couple of other girls) pregnant.

One of those other girls is his dealer/rave bestie, Luna. Aside from Casey and her family, here is the biggest divergence between the story A and I worked out together, and the one I'm now writing alone. A hated Luna; she hated anyone who was competition for Casey, because she'd latched so hard onto this DJ/Casey pairing that everything that could have been something for them to overcome, she just saw as a threat that needed to be squashed. So she insisted on killing off not just the baby (Lu was always going to miscarry), but also Luna. Y'all... that hurt. A lot. I adore Luna. I'd sooner kill off DJ (and in fact, there's a version of the story where he ODs and dies, and Casey eventually marries AJ). I did not want to kill Luna. But for the sake of not arguing with A forever, I did, and it became a huge part of the overall story, because DJ was in love with Luna. I saw this as an opportunity to explore poly love. A was just like "fuck that. kill her. want a poly ship? Thow Izzie-" (one of DJ's school friends, Izumi) "-into the mix! Casey likes her!" Gods forbid I wanted a little friction and compromise, people finding common ground and learning to live together. DJ likes Izzie, he does. And Izzie canonically does have a huge crush on him. But she's possessive and catty - just like Casey - and they would have imploded.

When I decided to remove A from the equation, my first impulse was "fuck yeah! I don't have to kill Luna! LUNA STAYS, BITCHES!!!" but like...

Now I have to rework DJ's entire arc, because his crippling grief and guilt over her death drove pretty much the rest of his story.

Anyway, in the old version (with the three phases), in phase 1, DJ got clean, married Casey, and got his shit together. In phase 2, they were gender-swapped (there's a reason for that beyond a god's weird sense of humor lol but I'll get to that in a minute) and DJ went from a mousy drug-addicted pacifist to a deadly cleaner for Casey's Irish mob family. It all ties into which parent (s)he is afraid to reflect. male!DJ is terrified of becoming his father; female!DJ is disgusted by what she sees as her mother's weakness and refuses to be her. So while boy-Deej danced and played drums and never took a swing at anyone even in jest, girl-Deej was a fighter, and a damn angry one. In phase 3, back to being a boy and a druggie, DJ overdoses and dies. And the Goddess who'd been trying to get her hands on him this whole time finally manages it. See, Adaghar (god who gender-swapped DJ and Casey) knew about Larash's (goddess who wanted DJ) obsession, so he was trying to make sure DJ lived a long life and went to literally any afterlife that Larash couldn't reach. She finally gets him, and through a series of odd events, he ends up killing Adaghar and taking his place, becoming a god.

That's all gone. 😂 Now DJ's just DJ, no grand destiny or anything, just a kid with an awful home life who needs to clean his act up and do right by his kids. Honestly, that's enough imo. I still adore him and can't wait to get his story done so I can read it... but I'm totally stuck. I don't know how his story ends anymore. I know he can't end up with Luna even if she's alive because they'll end up strung out and on welfare for the rest of their short, painful lives. They are deeply, deeply in love with each other, but they're both tortured addicts and Luna has zero self control. Neither of them will ever get clean if they're together.

And like... that's not even getting into all the craziness with DJ's oldest son, Ari. Ari had different versions, too - one where DJ had no idea he existed until he was about 7 (and had gone through some shit, poor kid) and showed up on daddy's doorstep; that version grew to be an angry, snarky little shit and I love him to pieces. Then there's a version where DJ found him when he was 2 and cleaned his act up and Ari grew into a happy, well-adjusted kid. And obviously in the girl-DJ version, she, y'know, gave birth to him lmao so she knew about him. But Ari had this whole arc with a vampire and he moved to Achlys in one version, and in another (the one where DJ died) he was adopted by AJ and Casey and became a doctor, and... ugh. I love this kid. And now everything about him is a big question mark, even more so than DJ cuz - guess what? the vampire was A's character, too! 🙄😖

Blargh. I dunno, guys. I don't know what to do with this whole thing.

[vfdbaudelairefile13]

                                           Chapter Fifty-Five:

                         The One Where Violet Needs a Cranioectomy

“Leave them alone!” she shouted as her eyes shot open. Violet Snicket glanced around the empty hospital room worriedly. She glanced at her wrists to notice that her restraints were gone. She sat up rather quickly, glancing around.

This has to be another one of his sick mind games. She told herself. The air around her was thick and menacing. The room itself was quiet, too quiet. To where it gave the room an unnerving feeling. As she swung her legs to the edge of her gurney, she glanced around once more to make sure that no one was in the room with her.

She took a few hasty steps towards the hospital room door, shaking at the cold tile on her bare feet. She hesitantly grabbed the handle of the door and quickly swung it open. Ready to fight whoever was guarding her room. But to Violet’s bewilderment, no one was there. No one was standing outside of her hospital room. She glanced down both sides of the hallway, noticing that the hallways to this once surprisingly busy for where it was located hospital were now as empty and quiet as the room that she had awoken in.

She wrapped her arms around herself, noticing that the eerie chilled air that filled the hallway was affecting her the moment she stepped outside of the room. She was still only in the hospital gown that Olaf had forced her to change into.

“ Hello?” she called out. “ Is anyone here? ”

She didn’t know where she was walking to but she didn’t care. The further she got from where Olaf had left her, the better. Maybe I could find Klaus and Sunny on my way out of… oh, wait. Olaf said they had already left me. She shook her head violently as the depressing thought played.

They would never. She tried to tell herself but as she continued to walk the now empty halls of the finished wing of the Heimlich Hospital, she was pretty sure that everyone had left her. All the doctors, nurses, and patients seem to have all disappeared and there was no sign of Olaf or his goons and as much as Violet hated to admit it there was no sign of Klaus or Sunny either.

“Klaus?” she called out, not caring if she was using his real name or not. “Sunny?”

She glanced around the hospital looking every which way to look for someone...anyone. She began to notice that the hospital was cleaner and whiter than it had been prior to her waking up. As if no one had been here in quite a long time. How long had I been sleeping? She nervously glanced down at herself. She didn’t appear to be bleeding or harmed in any way but she was unconscious how could she be entirely sure. Am I dead? She asked herself. Is this how dying felt like?

Violet, of course, had never died before seeing that most people only die once, so she couldn’t be so sure. She continued to glance into every room that she passed, continuing to notice that she was all alone. Her eyes were starting to fill to the brim with tears as she began to deduce that she must be dead. That had to be the only explanation.

“He killed me...he slaughtered me… and…” she choked. “He’s going to find Klaus and Sunny and...and…”

She sank to her knees, the gown barely long enough to shield most of her legs as it pressed onto the chilling hospital floor. “...I failed them…” she cried in anguish as she subconsciously reached for her locket. Her hands brushed against her chest as she started to cry harder remembering that she had gifted Sunny with her locket for safekeeping in case Olaf had any intentions of stealing that from her, too, like he had done her backpack back in the village. “...he’s going to find them and hurt them and it’s all my fault…” she told herself as she punched her fist against the cold tile. She bit her lip to ignore the pain and started hitting the ground rapidly.

“That fucking coward murdered me when I was knocked out…” she screamed. Her eyes widened when she realized something. She began to cry harder as her punches towards the floor began to cease. She grabbed ahold of her hair, pulling it as she screamed to the Heavens. “...I-I...no...no...I can’t...I have to be alive...if I’m dead…then...Olaf wins...that means…” she choked out all of her words in different volumes. Raging from extremely angry to utterly hopeless. She was making so much noise that she was unable to hear approaching footsteps. She threw her face in her hands as she let out another ear-piercing scream followed by the harshest and loudest of sobs. “... I failed...I failed you, Mr. Lemons...you died for nothing,” she whimpered as she laid herself across the floor of the hospital. Her whole body immediately felt the cold chill of the floor. She laid there, shivering and sobbing, wrapping her arms around herself the best she could. She was so cold and she felt so empty. She couldn’t see her current state as anything but dead.

The footsteps that she hadn’t noticed until right now stopped abruptly. Her eyes were so soaked from her tears that when she opened them her vision was compromised, it also didn’t help the fact that they burned when she tried to open them. So after three tries, she stopped trying to open them and then continued to sob as she continuously repeated how she had failed her now-dead father.

“ ...I failed you, Mr. Lemons...I’m so sorry…” she whimpered.

The person who produced the footsteps sighed loudly. Violet tensed up even if she was confused. She had just been alone in this hospital, who could be standing near her? Her heart sank as the possibilities flashed through her mind. She began to shake and tremble in fear.

“ Please...don’t hurt me,” she pleaded meekly.

The person sighed again. “I would never hurt you, Violet,” a recognizable voice said. The person leaned down as they wiped a few of her tears. Violet squinted trying to see who was near her. The voice was recognizable but...not in the way that she had first expected. “Oh and if we’re being quite honest. It is, I , who have failed you, Violet. Not the other way around.” the man said as Violet’s eyes opened despite the pain her tears were causing her.

“ Dad!” she screamed as she jumped up and wrapped her arms around him as tightly as she could. “Dad...you’re...how...how?” she asked. She felt so warm in her father’s embrace that she was distracted from her millions of questions running through her mind.

“Shhh,” Lemony cooed. “I know I’ve been away for a while...but I’m...I’m here now,”

Violet’s eyes widened as she realized that her father being here only confirmed her own theory about herself. “...I’m dead?” she asked looking up at her father.

He gave her a small smile. “No.” he replied. “Unlike myself, you are very much alive...just sleeping at the moment,”

“You mean…” Violet started. “You’re not really here with me?” she frowned, as she released her father. Lemony glanced around and sighed sadly. “You’re just… a dream?”

Lemony shrugged his shoulders. “Seems that way,”

“You promise I’m not dead,” she said.

“Only one of us is dead, Vi,” he replied sighing.

“As far as I know,” Violet muttered. Her mind was playing tricks on her. Her father wasn’t standing before her. The hospital wasn’t truly empty. This was all just what Violet wanted. Her subconscious was merely trying to help her cope with who knows what. She glanced up at her father and so many emotions were pouring through her at once. Sadness, grief, relief, and most of all guilt. “Dad...about what I said...before…” she took a deep breath. “...before the fire…”

Lemony’s face shifted. His smile replaced by a frown as he pulled her into another hug. “I wish you’d stop letting those false words keep you up at night,” he said after a minute. “I know you didn’t hate me, sweetheart. You and I were best friends.”

“But...but I…” she cried out. “Mr. Lemons, I promise I don’t hate you. I have never hated you...there was never a moment in my life where I had hated you...I’m so sorry for everything. I...I...I shouldn’t have snooped and I shouldn’t have said all of those truly mean things...I just...I was…”

“You were mad,” he replied sternly. “People say the worst things when they’re mad. It was understandable seeing as I had been keeping so much from you.”

“But...I...I said it to purposefully hurt you,” Violet admitted weakly.

“I’ll admit, it did hurt hearing you say it. But it’s a human reaction,” he gave a small frown as he remembered one time he had purposely said something in order to hurt someone he loved. “Why, I remember a time when I told your Uncle Jacques...well that honestly doesn’t matter now.”

At the mention of her uncle, Violet started crying again. She felt Lemony wrap his arms tighter around her as she cried into his chest. “I...I…”

“Violet, you are not to blame for that either,”

“But...you saved them...you saved my siblings…” she choked. “And...I failed to save yours. Your brother died...trying to... you died...trying…”

“I didn’t die trying to do anything,” Lemony explained. “I mean...I did die, but I achieved what I had tried to do. I saved you.”

“You...why did you...you could’ve went with me!?” she cried. “You…”

He shook his head. “It had to be done, Violet. It was the only way,”

“The only way to what?! ” she cried, her sadness turning to anger. “You... sacrificed yourself for me...I mean who does that!? ” Lemony couldn’t help but smile at the hypocrisy of his daughter’s question. “I mean seriously, who willingly gives themselves up for the safety of others… ?” she asked incredulously as her eyes widened slightly and she gave out a low chuckle. “Oh,” she said as she glanced up at her father who was still smiling, holding back in his laughter. “Okay, obviously I get that from you,”

“Eh, your mother would have done the same in either of our shoes,” Lemony said. “In a way she did. She and your siblings’ father sent them out that day.”

Violet smiled at that but as she stared at her father, she felt more sadness wash over her. “You could’ve gone with me, though. You could’ve…”

He shook his head. “Olaf would have used you to get to me,” he explained. “Me staying alive would’ve put a target on your back.”

She gestured to her hospital gown. “I’m pretty sure there’s already a target on my back,” she replied sarcastically.

His face shifted to one that his daughter had never seen before. Lemony took a deep breath. “Trust me, I wish things ended up differently. I wish I had been able to kill him before he even discovered you.” It was now Lemony’s turn to start crying. “This... this… ” he said gesturing at Violet’s gown. “This...was never what I wanted for you...I wanted you to live in a safe, quiet world. Where you’d be happy…” he explained running his hand through his hair. “Violet, I never wanted to leave you to clean up the mess that I had made…”

“Dad...don’t blame yourself,” Violet pleaded. “You did what you had to do. You saved Klaus and Sunny. They’re literally the best thing that has happened to me since the fire...I...I love them wholeheartedly from the moment I met them....”

Lemony smiled. “That’s 'cause you’re a Snicket and you know what they say about Snickets.” he paused glancing at his daughter, who looked up to him, giving him a small smile of her own.

She nodded her head. “Snickets take care of their own,” she stated happily.

Lemony leaned against the wall of the hallway, “You remind me of your dear mother, you know that, right?”

Violet frowned as she glanced around. She had wanted this for a while after the fire and her desire to speak to her father again only increased and intensified when she had heard her Uncle Jacques say that there had been a survivor of a recent fire. Violet had so many things she wanted to say, to do, to ask. But as she stared at her father, she was becoming more and more speechless and she was unsure why. Sure, this was all a very vivid dream probably due to the anesthetic that Olaf had given her to render her unconscious or this was actually something that her mind was doing to either help her cope with her dying or to cope with the stress she was feeling and the incredibly traumatic situation she had found herself in. Either way, it didn’t feel entirely right. Even if this was her father in front of her...it wasn’t her father. Just a dream.  

“Penny for your thoughts,” Lemony said after a minute of watching Violet run her own hands through her hair in a quiet panic.

She glanced up at him, he could tell she was silently crying. “You died...because of me,” she said finally. “The last thing that I had said to you...was ‘I hate you’ and you still gave your life for me…”

He merely nodded. “It’s what fathers do,” he said. “If given the chance to try again, I’d still do everything the same I had that night. I had to protect my daughter.”

“But...I didn’t...I didn’t deserve it,” Violet cried. “I was snooping and accusing you of lying and hiding things,”

“Well...I was lying and hiding things,” he admitted as he interrupted her.

“I know! But...what I said...I...I had no right.” she explained, breaking into sobs again. “Not only did I accuse you of kidnapping me...I...I told you…”

“Violet...you’re working yourself up, honey,” he tried to embrace her again but Violet flung herself towards the wall, crying harder.

“Stop!” she cried. “You should hate me! Why don’t you hate me?!”

Lemony was taken aback by Violet’s question. “Why would I ever hate my only daughter?” he asked her.  He didn’t try to force her into a hug, he did give her a look of pure sadness.

“I...I...I said...so many cruel things,” Violet explained through her sobs. “All of which I purposely said. I knew what I was saying would hurt you...I wanted them to hurt you. Why don’t you hate me…?”

“Would me hating you take away your guilt?” Lemony asked weakly.

Violet looked to the ground as she shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know!” she screamed. “What I do know is that you should hate me…I...I failed you. Not only did I allow you to get murdered, but I also allowed your brother to get murdered.”

“Neither of those murders are your fault, Violet…”

“I said I hated you more than once. I accused you of kidnapping me. I asked you if you were planning to kidnap Klaus and Sunny.” she threw her fist at the wall that was behind her as hard as she could. “God, I was such a shithead!” she screamed.

“Vi…” Lemony said worriedly.

“All you were doing was saving them. You were protecting them...you were...you...were the only adult who gave a shit about them…and I denounced you for it!”

“You were mad…” he tried. Lemony sighed unsure of how to calm down his daughter. Violet looked up at him, shaking her head.

“It doesn’t give me the right…” she began. “I...I said... I said...I...I even told you that Beatrice didn’t want you ...I told you the woman that you loved didn’t want you...and she wanted me...and you kept me to hurt her…” she said. She slid her back down the wall of the hallway. Her sobs now echoing through the entire hospital. “When...when...when...that couldn’t be further from the truth. She wanted you...it was me she didn’t want. ”

She slammed her head towards the wall, looking up at the ceiling of the otherwise quiet and empty hospital. “... did you even want me?” she asked him after a moment. Her face was puffy and red, tear streaks running down both of her cheeks. She sniffled as she wiped her eyes with the inside of her hospital gown.

Lemony frowned as he sat down next to Violet. “Of course I wanted my daughter. Would I have given my life for you if I hadn’t?” he said, wrapping an arm around his mess of a daughter. “Who has you thinking otherwise?”

Violet looked to her father with a face that showed her father how stupid his question was. “Who do you think?”

Lemony sighed. “You know Beatrice wanted you more than anything...right?”

Violet scoffed. “Doesn’t feel like it anymore.”

Lemony stood up as he smiled. “Come on,”

“What?”

“Just follow me,” he said as he held out a hand for her to grab. She hesitantly grabbed ahold of his hand as he helped her to her feet. As the two walked Violet continued to apologize to her father.

“I’m sorry...I...I tried to rescue you from the fire,”

Lemony’s eyes widened as if he hadn’t known about this. “You could’ve died!” he exclaimed worriedly. “Why would you ever do something crazy like that?”

Violet shrugged. “Snickets take care of their own, remember.”

“Goddammit,” Lemony muttered to himself. “Well, I’m glad you didn’t end up like me, Vi.”

She smiled. “Thank Jacquelyn. She saved me...oh my God! What if Olaf killed her back in the village...is she…?”

Lemony shrugged his shoulders. “This is a dream, sweetheart. Your guess is as good as mine,” he said. “But if you do see her again, you should thank her for me. Although, I specifically asked her to forget about me.” he looked down at his daughter. “But…I am sure glad she didn’t listen to me.”

Violet frowned. She hoped that Jacquelyn and Larry survived. They might not be as effective as Violet and her siblings needed them to be...but they were noble enough and had tried their best. Lemony turned a corner in the hospital, gesturing for Violet to follow him.

“Where...are we going?” she asked.

“You’ll see,”

“More secrets I see…” she joked.

“Old habits...die hard,” he joked in return. He looked at her, who frowned at his choice of words. “Stop blaming yourself, sweetheart. I did what I had to do as your father.”

“But...aren’t you the survivor?” she asked.

Lemony laughed again. “I wouldn’t know that answer, Violet, dear. You keep forgetting I am in your head. I’m here because your brain is most likely trying to cope with all of the negative feelings and dangerous situations you’ve had in such a short time.”

Violet frowned at this as she continued to follow her father. Throughout their walk, she continued to apologize for failing him no matter how many times he had expressed that she shouldn’t be apologizing. She followed him aimlessly throughout the hospital until she began to notice where he was heading. Her footsteps became smaller and smaller as she began to fall behind. He reached the door to the Library of Records, he turned to notice that Violet stood far from him, down the hall. Her arms were folded across her chest but not in defiance but as if she were trying to hug herself. He glanced at the door and then back at her. “Aren’t you coming?” he asked, his voice indicating to her that he had no idea what had happened in there.

Violet glanced down the hall at him, biting her lip. She shook her head. “The last time...I was in there…”

“You saved two lives,” he said simply.

She slowly nodded her head.

“Oh, Violet. I promise you, no harm will come to you in this room,”

“ Again…” she corrected bitterly.

He gave a sigh and a small smile. “There’s someone who’d like to...meet you,” he said finally gesturing to behind the door.

Violet looked to her father confused as he gestured for her to walk down the hall. She shakily walked over towards the Library of Records, shivering remembering that that was the last time she had seen her siblings. The last time she was free and not in the clutches of Esme Squalor and Count Olaf. With every step closer to the room, Violet cringed harshly remembering the loud noises of the filing cabinets falling down like dominoes nearly squishing her and her siblings. The manic yells of Esme Squalor. The feel of pure desperation she felt when she glanced over at her terrified siblings. That was the moment she knew what she had to do. She’d do it all again if given the chance. She finally reached the door of the Library of Records. She slowly put her hand on the handle as she glanced up at her father, who merely nodded.

“Hello…?” she called in as she slowly opened the door. The door’s loud squeak chilling her to her core. She felt her father place a hand on her shoulder as she took one step in. “Is...anyone…in here?”

“Ed?” a voice called out happily.

___________________________________________________________

Klaus hurried down one of the busy hallways of Heimlich Hospital glancing every which way looking at every room number that was posted on the wall. Room 922. He repeated to himself. He was walking so quickly that he nearly bumped into the two white-faced women. He hurriedly used the patient list that he still carried with him to guard his face. He stopped abruptly as the two women continued to walk down the hall, blissfully unaware that the two orphans that they were hunting down were behind them. Klaus waited until he watched them turn the bend and down a hallway. He continued to pick up his pace as he practically ran down the hallway.

Room 915. Room 918. Room 921. He turned his head rapidly left and right as he read the room numbers. He finally stopped at Room 922. A smile appeared across his face. He looked around almost confused as to why no one from Olaf’s troupe was guarding Violet’s room. A flare of panic went through his core as he pondered if this meant Violet was dead or not. You wouldn’t need to guard a dead girl. He thought but dismissed that eerie thought entirely. Olaf wouldn’t kill her. He reasoned with himself as he took a deep breath. He thinks she’s pretty. He gagged audibly at this thought. He placed one hand onto his stomach, or where he knew his toddler sister was as he gripped the doorknob with his other hand.

He pushed his way through the hospital room and walked towards the empty bed. He could see signs that Violet had once been held here. There were empty restraints still left on the hospital bed. One small lamp was left on and pointed down to the small and roughed up pillow that laid on the hospital bed. Klaus gripped the edge of the bed for support as he began to feel his whole world spinning. He felt ready to break down. I’m too late. I...I failed her. She’s dead...she’s gone...she’s...not here.

Tears sprang into the middle orphan’s eyes as his breathing became rapid. He felt Sunny’s head shift slightly as if she was trying to look up at him from under the medical coat.

“ She’s not here, Sunny,” he whispered frantically. “ Goddammit! She’s not…”

“ Who’s not here?” a familiar wicked voice asked behind him causing both younger orphans to stiffen entirely. The voice was this faux sugary-sweet tone which both Baudelaire orphans knew was laced with cruel, vicious intentions. Klaus closed his eyes and tried to ignore the rapid pounding of his heart in his chest and he turned and faced the woman who had kidnapped his older sister. “ Doctor?”

Esme Squalor leaned against the door frame effectively blocking Klaus and Sunny in, which didn’t help Klaus’ oncoming panic attack subside. Klaus noticed that Esme was dressed in what he believed she assumed to be a nurse’s outfit. Although, if you were to ask Klaus what he thought of her disguise, he would describe it as a Halloween costume that was entirely inappropriate for anyone in the profession to wear while at work. But Klaus Baudelaire was well aware that Esme Squalor was not an actual licensed nurse. She was a vicious woman who had once worked in the financial sector but has taken an early retirement from her job that helped her garner her own fortune to help Olaf hunt down three children out of an act of revenge against his mother. But the details to what his mother had done to this vile woman were still unbeknownst to Klaus. As he glanced at Esme’s ridiculous disguise he dared say that her outfit was as ridiculous as the fake name that Olaf had given his own alias. Klaus’ eyes widened when he noticed what the evil woman held in her hands. Esme held a rather sharp knife as she smiled at Klaus.

Klaus could feel Sunny beginning to shake in her harness. Esme continued to glare at Klaus with an expression on her face that was hard for Klaus to read. He assumed that like Olaf, Esme had seen right through his disguise. A part of him was awaiting to feel her run that blade right through him and he hoped that if she was planning to slaughter him and Sunny where they stood that she’d be merciful and do it in one quick swipe and not prolong the torture like Olaf had back when Klaus and Sunny had the misfortune of living with him. But to Klaus’ surprise, Esme didn’t stab him or try to slit his throat with the knife. She just stood there, smirking at him, making him extremely uncomfortable. He took a deep breath, resuming his deep British accent. “Miss...do you...d-d-do you know what happened to the patient...that was in this room?” he asked stuttering, avoiding all eye contact with the fashionable villain.

Esme still holding a tight grip on the knife took a step closer to Klaus. “Do you mean the ugly little girl with the big mouth? ” she asked chillingly sending chills down both the younger Baudelaires’ spines. Sunny made a low whimper as Klaus took a step back, further backing himself against the hospital bed that had once held a captive Violet. Esme smiled as she walked closer to Klaus still holding the large, rusty knife in plain view. Esme stopped halfway to Klaus, who stiffened up and slightly closed his eyes waiting for Esme to kill him and Sunny.

Every instinct inside of Klaus was telling him to either run or fall into a fetal position and beg for his life. But he fought every urge that was plaguing him. He had to save Violet. Esme knows where she’s being held. Maybe if he cooperated with Esme, she’ll lead him to Violet and he can devise a plan then.

Esme gave Klaus a chilling smirk. “ She’s being prepped for surgery,” she explained. Esme’s smile widened as she watched Klaus’ eyes widen in panic.

“ Surgery?” He repeated, his voice squeaking a bit. He stared at Esme with his eyes widened and full of uncertainty and fear.

“ Yes,” Esme hissed, keeping a long emphasis on the letter ‘s’ as she spoke. “So you’re just in time,” she informed Klaus as the intercoms above their heads began to make noise.

Klaus closed his eyes in disbelief. His heart beating twenty times worse when he heard the evil cackle of his enemy. Klaus shuddered as Esme cocked her head to the side slightly, still smiling.

“Attention!” Mattathias barked after his laughing finally ceased. “Paging Dr. Faustus,”

At the mere mention of his disguise name, Klaus jumped in surprise and glanced up at the intercom speaker with a face full of dread. Esme continued to smile towards Klaus as her eyes shifted chillingly towards the intercom speaker as if she didn’t know what her vicious boyfriend was going to say next.

“You are desperately needed in the operating theater,” Mattathias informed, his voice full of glee as if he had finally won a long game of Uno that he had been playing for months now. Klaus glared towards Esme, who pointed a long stiletto fingernail towards the intercom as if to tell Klaus that he should truly pay attention to this next bit. Klaus took a deep breath and looked back towards the intercom speaker just as Olaf continued talking. “Today is a very important day in the history of this hospital! In precisely ten minutes, we will perform the world’s first cranioectomy on a fourteen-year-old girl.”

Esme looked at Klaus with fake confusion as he immediately when into one of his defining spells. “Well, ‘cranio’ means ‘head’,” he explained in his normal pitched voice, “and ‘ectomy’ m-means…” his eyes widened once more as he began to stammer as if he couldn’t believe what Olaf and Esme were playing to do to Violet. “T-to remove...something,” His voice started out as loud but as he finished his dark train of thought, Esme was barely able to hear any of the words that were coming out of Klaus’ mouth. As the young boy just stood in front of her, slowly being paralyzed by his own fear. She smirked when she looked at his face noticing his grim expression as if he were imagining the wicked deed being accomplished.

She walked around him slowly, stopping just behind the young boy. She knelt closer to him, he could feel the teeth of the knife softly grace his shoulder which caused him to jerk back. “ No!” he whimpered, completely out of character. At this point, he had a feeling that Esme knew exactly who he was so he didn’t care about keeping up the appearance that he was a doctor.

Esme chuckled. “ You know very big words. You must be a very good doctor. ” she hissed into his ear, sending chills down his spine. She chuckled again and then thumped him as hard as she could in the back with her shoulder. “ Let’s find out how good you are.” she hissed as she placed the hand that wasn’t holding the large knife on his back and began to slowly push the two younger orphans out of Room 922.

Klaus could feel the teeth of the knife being softly pressed into the back of his shoulder and could feel Esme’s long fingernails pushing his back, so he found it in his best interest to allow her to remove him and his baby sister from Room 922 and to the operating theater where Klaus had no reason not to believe a trap had been set up to get him and Sunny. He glanced silently around the hallway hoping that someone...anyone who would see how Esme was escorting him would find it weird. He also debated ripping off his fake beard and exposing it to the rest of the hospital that he was, in fact, a mere child and not a doctor. But he decided against that because not only did he understand that in most situations adults have never been helpful but he was also wanted for murder and kidnapping that he did not commit and it would not look good for him if he had been discovered with Sunny hidden as she was. It would just help the ‘he kidnapped her’ angle more than it would help prove his innocence.

“We all hope that this very dangerous operation is a complete success,” Mattathias explained over the intercom. But as always in the field of medicine...stuff...happens,” Klaus couldn’t see Mattathias at the moment but he could tell by the tone of the man’s voice that he was grinning from ear to ear. “That is all.”

Esme led the two younger Baudelaire orphans down a busy hallway of Heimlich Hospital. Esme moved her hand from Klaus’ back and gripped tightly to his arm as she dragged him along. Although it wasn’t much of a challenge. Klaus knew better than to fight this woman especially if she were armed. Klaus slightly turned his head towards her hoping to find a glimpse of humanity. Something he can bargain with. But as he took a side glance of the murderous woman, all he could see was a cold, cruel expression written all over her face. She didn’t even turn to glance towards him, her grin grew wider when she noticed that he was looking towards her. She slowly moved the knife from behind Klaus’ shoulder to the front of his shoulder, digging the teeth of the knife slightly hard than before. Klaus’ eyes widened as he got another good view of the knife.  It glinted eerily in the light of the hospital hallway. But even though Klaus knew it was nothing more than a regular large, rusty knife, he couldn’t help but notice that it was just perfect for a cranioectomy...or three.

“If you’re wondering about my enormous, and terrifying knife, the answer is yes, it’s incredibly sharp,” Esme said chillingly, she applied more pressure to Klaus’ shoulder causing him to slightly shake. “... and it can do much more damage than a mere umbrella ever could, ”

Klaus felt tears spring in his eyes as he wanted no more but to run away from Esme. Run and hide and find a different way to save Violet. He slowly put his hands in front of him, gripping his ‘stomach’, he was trying his best to grip onto Sunny’s hands from within the medical coat but it was no use. But he did keep his hands in front of him, his last-ditch attempt at protecting Sunny even though he knew that all three siblings were now entirely fucked.

Esme stopped walking as she turned Klaus to face her. “ One swipe!” she hissed under her breath as she swiped the large knife quickly causing Klaus to jump and for a few tears to fall from his eyes. Esme smiled. “...and..” she began to imitate cutting noises as best as she could trying to intimidate Klaus even more. Klaus looked at her confused as she awkwardly stretched her left arm to reach the elevator buttons as she continued to make the cutting sounds.

Esme glared at the young boy the entire time as she finally reached one of her long stiletto nails to push the down button on the elevator. Once she heard the loud ding! She straightened herself up and pressed the knife back onto Klaus’ shoulder.

“I-Impressive,” Klaus cried out in his disguise voice. His eyes were full of panic and worry as Esme began to chuckle.

“Butterflies in your stomach, Dr. Faustus?” she asked in an exaggerated concerned tone. She put her empty hand on Klaus’ shoulder and gave it a firm squeeze. “ Don’t worry,” she said in her sickly sweet tone. A tone which would have caused Klaus to worry had he not already been worrying. “ This is going to be...fun.” she cackled as the elevator doors opened. She gestured with a head tilt for Klaus to get his ass in the elevator. Klaus took a deep breath as he slowly walked inside the elevator, followed by Esme who kept a harsh grip on his shoulder.

The villainous woman couldn’t help but start laughing as soon as the elevator doors had closed. Klaus and Sunny were uneasy as they listened to the maniacal laughter of this bloodthirsty woman. The children had no idea what had her laughing like this, although if the two children could guess it was because she believed that she and Olaf were finally going to win. The woman laughed wickedly and loudly in triumph. Watching her laugh was causing all of the butterflies in Klaus’ stomach to flutter all the more and he was relieved when she had finally stopped laughing.

The elevator doors opened and Esme began to push the two siblings down a darkly lit hall. Klaus could read the signs indicating where the operating theater was located. With every step closer to the double doors that Klaus was forced to take, his mind was racing full speed pondering what would be waiting for the two siblings on the other side of the door.

Esme pushed the double doors open as harshly as she could, causing both doors to open and smack the wall with two loud, simultaneous thump! s. Klaus glanced ahead to the middle of the operating theater’s stage. He couldn’t see much but in the middle of the stage, prompted up on a gurney looks to be his older sister, who laid there motionless.

Klaus’ eyes widened as he tried to rush towards Violet, but the long, stiletto fingernails of Esme Squalor gripped his shoulder tightly as she pulled him back towards her. “ Uh huh uh,” she teased as Klaus looked about ready to cry. He looked towards Esme with a face full of anger as he looked back mournfully towards his older sister. From where he currently stood, she seemed to be entirely unharmed. Although, he highly doubted it. Klaus was forced to stand still as Esme dug her nails deep into his shoulder. He winced at the pain. He turned to her once more, to see she was wearing a big grin on her face.

Mattathias cleared his throat so that Klaus’ attention was on him. To Klaus’ horror, one of the overhead lights flashed on, pointing at Olaf, as he was at the other entrance to the operating theater.”Ah! Doctor Faustus, I’ve been eagerly awaiting you.” he snarled as Klaus felt as though he wanted to pass out. “And so has our little... sleeping beauty.” Olaf hissed, waving his hand gesturing at the sleeping unconscious Violet that laid seemingly lifeless on the gurney. Klaus’ eyes went dark with rage at Olaf calling his sister ‘pretty’. Esme rolled her eyes at this. Olaf began to slowly descend down the stairs as he addressed both the crowd and the two Baudelaires. He made sure to stare at Klaus the entire time. Klaus, who couldn’t help but slightly shake, tried to keep calm but Esme slowly nodded her head to Olaf indicating to him that Klaus was slowly breaking as she could feel the hand that gripped his shoulder slightly shake with him.

Olaf reached the bottom of the steps as he smirked viciously at Klaus. “ I told you my patient was dying to see you,” he hissed as Klaus could feel his legs wobble as if they were slowly turning to jello. He gripped onto Esme for support, who merely laughed. “ Well, let’s go, Dr. Faustus. The show must go on…” Olaf cried as he gestured towards Violet’s gurney.

[hiyo-silver]

Untouchable - Kiss Kiss, Bang Bang

Summary:  The school holds a vigil for Eddie Kaspbrak despite most people having hardly knowing him. Patrick and Henry arrive only with ulterior motives, Bill Denbrough. Richie doesn't take kindly to the assault, it's their turn to go.

Chapters 1 2 3 4 + AO3

Taglist: @fuckboykaspbrak @thesquidliesthuman @rachi0964 @beepbeep-losers @bigbilliamdenbro @jalenrose1122 @sleepygaybrough @itandstrangerthingsfanfic @boopboopbichie @peachywyatt @aizeninlefox @sockwantstodie @ahoybyeler @abbeyglover @w-billiam

By the time that Bill makes it to math class, his last hour in school before he gets to escape to the comfort of his own home. No more time to sit here sweating and trying to hide his guilt. He sneaks a look at his phone from inside his sweatshirt pocket. The first thing that catches his eye is that Stan sent him a text relatively ten minutes ago. “Hang out tonight?” he’d asks. Bill chews his lip, he doesn’t know if he could stomach that. Hanging out for a night with someone who genuinely liked Eddie, at least it seemed so. They were close, and Bill would be lying if he said he hadn’t seen them get cozy, and even kiss on occasion. They were a couple, Bill doesn’t know if he can keep his mouth long enough with Stan.

He sighs and looks at his calculus worksheet, chewing his lip for a moment before looking back at the lit screen, pressing the home button with his thumb to unlock it. His thumbs dance anxiously over his keyboard on the conversation. He finally lets out another sigh and types out simply. “Sure, I’ll meet you at my locker after the final bell.” he presses send and swallows thickly before picking up his blue pen once again to finish the problem he was working on before. He finishes before everyone else, there’s a reason he’d almost skipped a grade. Maybe he should have. He could have narrowly missed the year of the undoing of Derry high school that is soon to come, it’s already starting to unravel like a ball of twine. Red twine. Like the kind they use on tv in detective shows to show evidence- fuck, Bill tells himself yet again. He doesn’t know how to stop the thoughts, he didn’t even do anything, only witnessed.

Time seems to move like molasses, more though Bill feels as if moving through life is like swimming through molasses. He has to push and push to keep going, he feels like he’s been holding his breath. He just wants to finally let go but he fears the entire story will come tumbling out with as simple as a sigh. The bell rings, cutting through his hazy mind and signalling his reaction by reflex to put away his things and sling his backpack of his shoulder. He has to provide himself with his next mission. Meet Stan at his locker, make it through an evening with Stan. Then, he can spill everything to his diary that he’s held in since the weekend. It feels as though it’s been weeks, he doesn’t know how killers do this, he doesn't understand how Richie can do this.

Richie. He’d almost forgotten. Richie is so tender with him, treating him lovingly as if he’s made of glass, that he must be protected. He wracks his brain for any answer to how Richie could do this at all. He said he’s never been caught, which means he’s done this before. The confusion leaves Bill near tears as he navigates the hallway. He knows well enough how much it hurts to lose someone to murder, Georgie. The young boy comes to mind, he’s surprised he hasn’t already. He can’t believe he’s been involved in this, causing this kind of mess to someone. He hates himself. He can almost hear Richie’s voice in his head though, “C’mon, Billy, you wouldn’t want to get caught, would you?” the voice whispers as he finds himself right up to Stan’s locker. He sucks in a fresh breath of air and smiles weakly for Stan.

“Hey, how are you holding up?” Bill asks quietly, reaching his hand to rub Stan’s arm comfortingly. New mission, ignore his own feelings to help Stan, the other boy had obviously reached out to him for a reason. Of course he’s hurting, Bill is only being selfish. Bill Denbrough has a habit of ignoring his own problems, he probably will never admit out loud that he’s truly been traumatized. He didn’t instigate the murder, he never told Richie to do it, he didn’t want to be involved even after it happened. Everything he’d done there had been completely for the sake of covering their tracks.

Stan stays quiet, his eyes trained on the floor, his face pale but calm. He seems to still be in shock, he’s not feeling it completely yet, it’s truly a blessing to not be any further through the stages of grief. Soon he’ll be crying and falling apart and blaming others and then blaming himself. Bill can’t imagine how hard it will be for Stan. From what he knows, not only were Stan and Eddie secretly together, but Stan has never lost someone this way. He’s never been to a funeral of someone he’d actually known, only random second cousins and distant relatives several times removed. It may have been easier if Eddie hadn’t always been so tender with him. The way Richie is so tender with Bill. Richie is no saint, it’s coming to view finally now that Bill lets it sink it, Eddie wasn’t either. At least Eddie hadn’t been a killer.

“I’m- alright,” Stan says softly, holding his books closer to his chest, adjusting them so he can keep them up in his arms as they’d been slipping. “It’s just so sudden. I didn’t know he’d been so sad, I wish he would have let me help,” Stan says, still keeping his eyes aimed at the tile of the hallway, licking his lips compulsively. He’d obviously been crying the night before, his lips were more chapped than Bill has ever seen them, Stan is a religious moisturizer and keeps himself hydrated. The normal Stan wouldn’t dare stand to be in this state, especially in public.

“You wanna go to your house? Or mine? Or anywhere, I really don’t mind,” Bill offers, his voice soft and soothing as usual when he talks to people he wants to comfort. He’s always been really good at that. It’s one of the reasons he and Ben had gotten along so well. Ben, oh how Bill longs to go back to him, back to normal. He wants to rewind the world he’s living in back to September first of 2018 and sit down at the lunch table and joke about the new romantic comedies on Netflix despite the fact that they would watch these later that night and cry and laugh openly.

“There’s actually going to be a candlelight vigil tonight at the park, for Eds y’know,” Stan says in his normal mumbling tone, seeming even more bittersweet. It’s even more a wake up call that Eddie is really gone for him. “I was thinking you would go with me, I’m not sure if Bev is going, and us two are friends, y’know?” Stan goes on, not finding the courage for his hazel eyes to meet Bill’s concerned blue ones yet.

“Yeah, of course we can go, I’ll drive.” Eddie always drove. Eddie had a hotter car than Bill had, it was safer and cleaner and flashier, one of Eddie’s prized possessions. It feels almost wrong of Bill to offer to, but he knows that Stan doesn’t drive and doesn’t have a car of his own. Stan simply nods, “We can hang out at my house until the sun goes down when it’s time to go, I won’t let us be late,” Bill promises, reaching to link his arm with Stan’s.

“Thank you, Bill,” Stan says with a sure nod, finally letting his eyes meet Bill’s. He finally seems to be calming, his shoulders relaxing and his face staying soothed. They walk outside to Bill’s car, dropping their bags in the back seat and sitting up in the front, chuckling slightly as the car groans and wheezes to a slow start. It’s always a gamble of it the car will work again this time, but they get lucky enough to pull out of the parking spot and out onto the road on the way to the Denbrough residence.

The two plop themselves on the couch in the living room, watching various cartoons on the television. It was a measured plan on Bill’s part, watching tv meant he wouldn’t have to talk, knowing how little Stan talks unprompted, and Bill knows he wouldn’t know what to talk about, the death still plaguing his mind in a thick black fog that leaves him unable to do anything else. He wants nothing but to forget completely.

Finally, the time comes when the sun has gone down and it’s time to go back to the car and drive down to the park for the vigil. Bill eyes the clock and looks back at Stan before picking up the remote and shutting the tv off, “Hey, we should probably get going,” he says in a hushed voice to Stan. “Eddie always liked being on time,” he says with a weak smile, wanting to help lighten the situation.

“Yeah, he’d kill us if we were late to this,” Stan says with a small grin of his own, sitting up before pushing himself all the way to his feet. Bill mirrors the same, the two of them linking their arms together again, locking the front door behind them. The drive to the park is uncomfortably quiet. Stan has known Eddie as long as he can remember, Bill has only come into their lives this year.

As they step out of the car, the air is as cold and unforgiving as the cup of poisoned gatorade Eddie had downed merely days ago. Eddie may not have been the best person, but it almost seems that the weather dropped nearer to winter temperatures since he’s been gone. Bill and Stan huddle deeper into their coats, pulling their arms over their chests to hold their warmth in. They join the small group in the grass, being offered the most pitiful expressions they have to date. At least Stan, Bill knows those looks. The same from the funeral of one Georgie Denbrough.

They’re handed small tea candles, having them lit by a match. They’re surprised to find that this has all been organized by Mike Hanlon. Mike never knew Eddie well, but at least Eddie’s taunts for him never included his skin color. Eddie believed in equality, he’s treat almost everyone as bad as everyone else, simply a complex of feeling more important. His mindset stemmed from traumatic experiences, not much different than Richie’s mindset, but Richie is far too gone. Eddie would never get worse, or better. His potential for improvement was robbed from him. Mike put this together because he knew nobody else would. Not many people were fond enough of Eddie, and the few who are were too close to him to be in the right mind to do this for him.

“Thank you,” Bill says as Mike lights the candle cupped in between his hands. He holds it gently and looks at the flickering flame. He’s never noticed before that the fire can be a metaphor for life. It can flicker and die out with a simple breeze, or it can roar with a violent passion, destroying everything that comes in it’s past. Eddie’s flame had been blown out, and Richie’s was thriving under the exact circumstances.

Stan looks down at his own candle, maybe thinking the same, of course without the metaphor to Richie, or even knowing that Eddie’s death was any more than a suicide. Bill can’t get over the fact, Eddie Kaspbrak has been murdered, and the sole part he had in the murder was making everyone believe it wasn’t a murder. It’s nothing less than an offense on the life Eddie had lived.

A few people step up and speak sweet words, Bill can debunk every one of them. None of these people really liked Eddie personally or otherwise. It’s all bullshit, they’re making grieving trendy, something they all need to do to continue to fit in to any status quo and not be seen as a monster simply for resenting someone who treated them badly. Everyone is so insincere. He doesn’t hear a testimony true to how someone actually saw the popular boy. That was when Stanley Uris pulled out enough courage to stand in front of the crowd and speak in a shaking voice.

“I’m Stan, as you guys know, Eddie and I were close,” he says before taking a gasping breath between statements. “He and I were together, I never knew he wasn’t happy, I didn’t know how much he was hurting. And I do blame myself for that,” he continues with a sniffle. “When I heard the news I cried because the description of the scene sounded like one from a horror movie, like how you feel when you see something like that on the news but someone telling you in real life. I was numb after that, it doesn’t feel real. Until I was here now,” he says with a near silent sob, “With all these people listening, it just felt like he was staying home from school. I know he wasn’t always kind to you guys and-” he takes another breath, “I want to apologize on his behalf, he didn’t mean it, truly, I promise that,” Stan finishes, deciding he can’t go on any more with how much his voice quivers with the tears he’s holding back.

Stan finally stands down from the spot, dispersing back to his spot with Bill among the others. He hopes he made the right choice, he doesn’t want backlash, and he doesn’t want to hear anything more negative about his late boyfriend, it’s disrespect for the dead which is just as bad as the fact they speak badly of the one he loved. He knows Eddie was no saint, but the boy wasn’t evil either, and he didn’t deserve the fate that came to him. Nobody deserve to be so trapped in their own mind that they take their own life, nobody deserves to scream so fucking loudly that nobody can hear them. He’d probably been screaming so long that he lost his voice, couldn’t keep it up.

Bill feels someone bump their arm against his and stay there, trying to lace their fingers with his. He half expects to turn around and see Richie Tozier also at the vigil for the boy they killed, but it ends up being someone who makes Bill do a double take, pulling away quickly. Patrick Hocksetter, probably one of his least favorite people. The kid has bullied him since kindergarten and only tolerates him now because of who he hangs out with, it’s gross.

“Got an issue, William? Your little boyfriend isn’t here, pretty boy,” the other man teases, trying to grab for Bill’s hand like the sleazy asshole he is. Bill yanks his hand back again, more force this time now that Richie is brought up. Richie may not be the best or the best influence, but Bill Denbrough has no interest in being unfaithful to him.

“I’m not a cheater,” Bill says assuredly to the bully, his eyebrows set in a position of dominance, as if he’s taller and more powerful than the kid he hears walks around with a makeshift flamethrower, a lighter and hairspray. Bill will have to remember that. He doesn’t know how to keep himself civil, murder on his mind and pulling his strings until he’s on edge enough to snap.

“C’mon, buddy, he doesn’t need to know, a good guy is only a bad guy who hasn’t been caught,” Patrick purrs, pushing them out of the circle and closer to the forest. Bill doesn’t know how everyone else doesn’t notice, he feels vulnerable. The scene he sees over Patrick’s shoulder just looks like fire, not candles, not people, only golden flames that leave an awful burning smell with the floating embers.

That all is, until a groan escapes his harasser, a shove had come to him at the hands of none other than Richie, the “boyfriend who wouldn’t have to know.” “Tell me why your grubby hands were on my boyfriend’s waist?” Richie asks in a tone that just begs Patrick to test him.

“What about it, psycho?” Patrick hisses, stepping back swiftly to escape any other attacks from the infatuated man. Infatuated, that’s the word to describe it. Richie can’t take his eyes off of Bill half the time, he can’t bear to be apart from him. He needs him, he’ll simply die without him right there next to him.

“Keep your hands off of him if you know what’s good for you, Cocksetter,” Richie says, his tone one that nobody in their right mind would want to reckon with. Bill, however, isn’t in his right mind, though he wants only to do positive things with this man, wanting to just go back to Richie’s and make him his again.

Patrick finally backs away, going back to the crowd only to escape Richie, obviously not in his right mind himself, but he knows well enough to stay away.

-

After the vigil, Bill and Richie end up in Bill’s car, Stan had gotten a ride with someone else, realizing how shaken Bill is from what happened with Patrick, and Stan knows well enough how it feels, the Bowers gang has always been pretty awful to him, but Henry and Patrick are the worst.

Richie sits in the passenger side, his cigarette smoke floating off the tip out the window in curling ribbons as the nicotine calms him. Bill can’t resist the look on Richie’s face, he can’t resist Richie’s face, period. He climbs over the space between their seats, settling in Richie’s lap, straddling his legs over his thighs, dipping his body down to meet his lips to Richie’s. He can taste the smoke in lips and lingering on his tongue.

Richie catches Bill’s lips in his own hungrily, his hands gripping tightly at Bill’s sides, he’s always in the mood for a good makeout session. Suddenly his eyes pop open, his lips cease to keep moving, Bill pulling away sensually with a doe look in his eyes, wanting to go right back to what he was doing.

“I have an idea, lovely,” Richie purrs, running his hands up and down Bill’s sides in a way that makes the boy shiver with pleasure, “For us to get back at Patrick and Henry,” Richie adds, seeing Bill’s expression shift to one of interest, listening closely. “We can prank them, expose them for how they really are,” Richie smirks, pulling the idea together in his head, compiling how he will have to describe it to Bill, he’s unsure if Bill will trust him anymore.

-

The night comes and goes, the boys had returned to their acts in the car. Bill can says he’s really broken in his car now, and he’d say it with a smirk and then an awkward laugh. “They’re called que no es de fiar aparentar bullets, got them at a prank store,” Richie says, hiding his lie smoothly behind a buttery false Spanish accent.

“So they’re fake?” Bill asks, a confused expression on his face, his big blue puppy dog eyes bringing Richie in further to him until they are touching again.

“Completely false, gonna knock the boys unconscious, we’ll just leave them naked for the police to find before they come to, they’ll be the laugh of the school now,” Richie smiles. “They deserve it,” he reminds him softly, brushing his thumb against Bill’s cheek.

Bill nods back hesitantly. He’s always been one for revenge, but he doesn’t know about this. Patrick and Henry have always terrorized him, he’s still scared of them. He almost feels like this will make him feel like he has too much power. He knows what power does to people, it’s almost never a good result. He takes the loaded gun from Richie’s hand, letting his finger run over the trigger, a shiver running down his spine. He doesn’t know if this feels extremely right or extremely wrong, but it feels like something that threatens to take him over. “They should be here soon, I called them a bit ago,” he says solemnly.

Richie nods back, taking his own identical weapon in his hands, holding it like he has before, the adrenaline is always the same. He almost craves it, but he’s learned to control it more when he’s on his own, but around Bill, oh he feels powerful. It’s his duty now, he has to protect this man. Even if that means bloodshed, the world is too full of corrupt people anyways, he justifies to himself as he starts to walk away. Orange leaves crunch beneath his shoes as he walks through the woods, fidgeting from all his restless energy.

He watches as the two boys approach Bill with their usual confident gait. It only makes him smirk to himself, they wouldn’t be so confident for so long. He watches Bill in his acting, flirting with them and then having them strip down, standing apart, then he watches Bill’s gaze flicker to his direction and he knows it’s go time.

He aims the weapon, he pulls the trigger. It hits Henry as he expected it to, he watches the bullet leave Bill’s gun and narrowly miss Patrick. Shit. he takes it upon himself immediately to take over that job too, getting Patrick just as he tries to get away. He feels the same adrenaline as he had with Eddie before but softens when he hears a scream come from no other than Bill.

“Richie- are they supposed to bleed this much? Are they- are they dead?” Bill asks, looking and sounding on the verge of tears as his voice wavers, wrapping his arms around Richie as soon as he approaches him, hiding his face in Richie’s chest.

“Calm down, baby, just another evil defeated,” Richie purrs, running his hands through Bill’s hair tenderly, “We should get going, don’t wanna get caught, do we?” he says, pulling away and grabbing Bill’s cold hand in his own.

It’s only now that Bill realizes exactly how crazy Richie might be, tears streaming down his own face, he can’t do this any longer. He can’t keep being so violent. He can’t mess up himself and his future so badly. He’s only hardly grown up, freshly eighteen and with so much ahead of him. He needs to put an end to this.

[piperchu]

Review of Glitchtale Love Part 2

First things first, @firstfandomfangirl and @utdork358, if you have not yet seen this thing. Go watch it. Now. 

Alright, now that that’s out of the way, I’ll dive in. Spoilers below the cut.

Let me start off by saying that, no, I do not deny that this series has its faults. The logic and technicalities are flawed in many areas, and the animation is sub-par. That, and the fact that the creator willingly throws herself into drama and ends up creating more stress for herself, is why I don’t follow her blog. That being said, I do enjoy the story itself. I am entertained by the twists and turns, as long as they don’t defy logic. But Camila has been doing a little bit better with that lately. 

But enough of that. On to the review. In all honesty, this is my favorite episode yet by far, and it’s not just because of Sans’ return. That was a plus, but that’s not the only reason I liked it. 

One of my favorite things about this episode is that it really let Papyrus shine. Too often people portray him as stupid and over-confident, but that is actually not the case. While Sans is more on the logical, scientific side of intellect, Papyrus has a high level of emotional intelligence. And although idealistic, he’s not stupid in other areas. He knows when he faces you in the genocide route that he is probably going to die. Yet he does not fight, and doesn’t even protect himself. Because he thinks kindness, not violence, is the way to stop you. He risks his life for the slim chance to save yours, because he believes in you. Papyrus might just be the bravest fictional character I know of. 

So I was very pleased with how accurately Cami portrayed Papyrus’ character. By refusing to fight his brother, he reached deep inside the hate zombie and helped him remember who he was. Papyrus’ brotherly love and compassion destroyed the hate that was consuming Sans’ soul. 

The next thing about this episode that I liked was the vast improvement in animation quality. The characters’ movements were more natural. The close-ups on the faces were cleaner and more detailed than they have ever been. There was so much more effort in this than in any other episode. And this time, I didn’t watch many of the streams, so most of the episode had a better effect on me. There are still some problems with it, like the fact that you can easily tell that Cami still uses black and white shading and only lowers the opacity to various levels. This technique is okay to use when you’re doing a greyscale piece, but in works with color it is more visually pleasing to use colored shading. 

Another aspect of the episode I liked was its ability to stir emotions and switch  the mood of the scene very quickly. This is a quality you can find in most of the other episodes as well. It’s not a completely new thing in Glitchtale. But this episode, with the improved animation quality, was able to change the tone of the story and the emotion you are feeling in seconds, sometimes without dialogue. And with this episode, there were some times where I could tell she was going for a very specific feeling and nailed it using visuals alone. 

Examples:

HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOLYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY CHEEEEEEESEDOODLES 

This was the moment when Frisk goes 1 to 1000 in seconds. Or 3 to 19, if you want to be literal here. Even if you take out Frisk’s dialogue box saying “I will kill you,” the effect is almost exactly the same. And with Glitchtale’s logic in mind, it makes sense. Even though Frisk reset the genocide path, they still killed everybody. It doesn’t matter that they never killed anyone in this timeline. LOVE is the measurement of someone’s capacity to hurt. Not how much they have hurt, although that is the most direct way of gaining it. As long as they can hurt that much, they technically still have that capacity. So Frisk, having taken advantage of the glitches many times before, did it again and accessed their genocide stats. 

wAIT WAT SANS IS BACK

Just for the record, I knew this was going to happen as soon as Betty announced she was “calling for help.” And I love how even though it’s just a half circle in a sea of black, you know exactly what’s going on. A glowing blue eye with a pink center, combined with the fact that Betty took out a nearly empty monster soul and infused it with her Hate and Fear (and that’s not mentioning Frisk’s expression), tells you that there is only one person that this could be. And the fact that the first BWAH in Blood and Bone played the exact moment the eye opened solidified the mixed tone of horrified realization, shock, and dread.

wAIT HOLD ON THIS ISN’T WHAT I ASKED FOR

I pretty much knew that if anyone comes out of Kumu they would be a hate zombie. This entire scene was playing out exactly how I predicted. 

But dang. This image was clearly going for a “nightmare” feeling, and it delivered. That’s what a nightmare often is, after all. The things you love are corrupted by the things you fear to make a terrifying combination. Cami went for creepy and succeeded.

SANS PLZ NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Seriously. Everything from his eyes to his smile is unnerving. Those aren’t Sans’ eyes. That’s not Sans’ grin. This is not Sans. This is Hate and Fear contained in an empty shell chosen by Betty because the person who lived in it was once a friend and thus had a better chance of breaking Frisk. 

Piper.exe has stopped working due to brotherly love. Restart the program?

I could not have asked for more here. This is just the ending to the episode I needed. If there were not several different problems that still need to be resolved, this could actually work as the ending for the season. In fact, Betty using Sans to fight might actually have worked better in the finale. But that just means that there’s got to be a reason Cami made Sans come back (kind of) so soon. Obviously he’s going to play a larger role in the season now, though it’s still not clear what that role will be, whether he’s creating another problem in the sidelines or will eventually be an active influence on the plot. 

Whatever the case, this is a beautiful ending to the “Sans is missing” sub-plot. His absence was tearing his family apart. Gaster became rash and angry out of grief. Papyrus found it much harder to stay strong for everybody. But now, Sans is back (mostly), and it looks like the family might be able to heal now. 

Next reason: soundtrack. WOW. I mean, I listened to Blood and Bone before, but I kept wondering how it was going to be used. There was almost no doubt in my mind that it was going to be a battle, and that it would be near the end of the episode, and I was right, but I didn’t know what battle. I thought it fit the trailer really well. But I don’t think there could have been a better usage of it than that of the return of Sans as a zombie of Hate and Fear. 

Well, I could make this longer, but it’s already REALLY long and I highly doubt anyone is going to read all of this. Oh well. 

[eldritchsurveys]

oo5.

Have you ever been served breakfast in bed? >> Maybe once or twice? A long time ago? What is the most challenging meal you have ever cooked? >> I make a point of avoiding challenges in cooking, unfortunately. I’m really averse to fucking up food, for multiple reasons. I’ll get over myself eventually, but it’s just not a priority right now.

Are you one to approach others, or let them approach you first? >> I mean, in what sense... What was your favorite thing to do as a little kid? >> Well, my paracosm at that time was a city called Jacana Heights, and Eden Long and I would perform in movies for the entertainment of the populace (I think they like, thrived on it... like, in a sustenance sense? I’m not sure of the logistics because I didn’t think that deeply about the worldbuilding of things back then). So I did that a lot. Here on Earth, I kind of just... cut out clothes for paper dolls for hours at a time, built things with building sets, played with my dog, and later on, played computer games. Are holidays as fun for you now as they were when you were younger? >> I didn’t get any holiday experiences at all as a child, except for when I was thirteen and then it was actually horrible lmao, so actually... I have a lot more fun with holidays now.

Do you find non-fiction to be boring? >> Nah, unless it’s a subject I literally don’t care anything about. Like... Republicans.  Are you a punctual person? Or are you always late? >> I’m not always anything. Do you own a thesaurus? Do you actually use it? >> Nah, Google is my thesaurus. What is the longest essay or research paper you have written? >> Ten pages about Jim Morrison in junior year. Do you ever write your own short stories? >> Hell yeah. Sometimes I even still do. Have you ever been close to drowning? >> Twice. Have you ever had a panic attack? >> Yes. Do you find it easy to relate to other people? >> It gets a little easier as time goes on, and as I meet more people. But I think it’s part of the human condition to always feel a little set apart. I just try not to give that feeling too much credit, because it doesn’t exactly know what it’s talking about. Are you ashamed to leave the house when not looking your best? >> No. Are you modest? >> Nah, not really. Do you ever worry about your loved ones dying? >> Not especially. Like, I don’t actively worry about it, since grief doesn’t particularly frighten me as much as other things do. That doesn’t mean I’m like “oh cool whatevs” at the idea of people I love dying or anything, it’s just... not a worry. Do you watch any Japanese anime? >> I’m coming around to it. I was talking to someone on Discord and they mentioned that it seemed like the older a Western person is when they’re introduced to anime, the more time they have acclimating to the differences from Western media. So really, I’m not alone in how much I struggled to like, connect with anime the way people who have grown up with it do. I was out here thinking there was something wrong with my brain meats because no one had ever presented it that way to me. Damn. Anyway, the ones I’ve liked so far are Kill La Kill, Ouran High School Host Club, Mahoutsukai no Yome, Kuroshitsuji, Puella Magi Madoka Magica (is that even the right order lmao), and... yeah, I guess Axis Powers Hetalia, although overall I connected to the fandom more than the anime itself. Is there a foreign culture you are interested in learning more about? >> You damn right. Do you have your own laptop computer? >> I have two. Will this week be a good one? >> I mean, it’s a week. I suppose it’s all right, as far as weeks go. Who is the last person that texted you? >> Sparrow. When is the next time you work? >> I don’t. Where did you get the shirt you’re wearing? >> It’s an undershirt, I have no idea. What are you going to do next? >> I’m not sure. Maybe another survey, maybe I’ll go back to my dashboard, maybe I’ll randomly start breakdancing, who the fuck knows. Do you currently have feelings for anybody? >> Sure. Do you enjoy eating veggies? >> Very much. Do you know the difference between a vegan and a vegetarian? >> Yes. Who did you text most today? >> I didn’t text anyone. Do you have a reason to frown right now? >> Sure, I suppose. I have reasons to do any facial expression at any given time, because like... life be like that. What brand is your straightener? >> --- Do you own any Converse? >> Nope, they hurt my feet and fuck up my gait because of my pronounced arches. Are you wearing socks? >> Nope. Do you enjoy long car rides? >> I enjoy a lot of things about long car rides. The freedom of the open road is one of those “quintessential American(tm) things” that I actually deeply understand and yearn for. I enjoy being in cars, probably because I spent so much of my childhood around them and in them. I like talking to the people I’m in the car with -- a lot of good conversations are likely to happen during car rides, especially on highways, because there’s not a whole lot of distractions, just you all and the road. However, I don’t like being stuck in the car for hours at a time without a chance to stretch my body, and sleeping in the car is a fuck. So, you know. Downsides. What’s the last thing you drank? >> Water. Who was the last person you talked to before you went to bed last night? >> Hallie, online, and Can Calah, here. Are you one of those people who are always cold? >> No, I get hot much quicker than I get cold. Are you wearing any clothes that don’t belong to you? >> No. Do you paint your nails? >> Occasionally. Do you like doing laundry? 
 >> I mean, more than other chores, sure. There aren’t a lot of steps, it doesn’t involve icky things, and it’s not very time- or energy-consuming (the machines do most of the work). How about the dishes? >> Eh. I prefer doing the dishes in a sink with a window over it... anyway, we use the dishwasher. Do you even like doing housework? >> No. That’s probably really clear, lmao. Don’t you hate being blamed on? >> Of course. Do you even care about politics? >> Not the bits that don’t immediately affect me. Have you ever met anyone famous? >> Yeah, I met... multiple musicians, and Criss Angel once. And Julianne Moore! I keep forgetting about her. Do you check your email everyday? >> The Gmail Checker app in my browser alerts me whenever there’s new email, so I just... rely on that. Do you have a membership to the gym? >> I do, and I really need to fucking terminate it, but the legal bullshit is so overwhelming (gyms can be really fucking cagey and I wish I’d known that before I gave them my fucking bank account information to open a membership) that I never do it. Ugh. Do you tan? >> No. What is your natural hair color? >> Dark brown. Is it that right now? >> Yep. Do you prefer guys with dark hair or light hair? >> I can’t be bothered to care. When was the last time someone gave you flowers? >> Valentine’s Day. Do you expect to be married in the next two years? >> Yes. Do you have someone who is protective of you (father, brother, etc.)? >> No. Would you ever get implants? >> Probably not, unless it was subdermals. Have you ever dated someone of another race? >> Obviously. What did you drink at the last party you went to?: >> What was the last party I went to... Does the last person you text messaged have any tattoos or piercings?: >> Tattoos, yeah. Someone asks if you’re okay, but you’re not. Do you tell them the truth?: >> Depends on who’s asking. If it’s some person on the internet that I don’t really talk to, then they don’t get those kinds of details. Do you know anyone whose birthday is today?: >> No. How did you meet the last male you text messaged?: >> --- Where was the last place you went, that you hadn’t been to before?: >> Chicago in general. Last person to text you? >> Sparrow. Are you mad at anyone right now? >> No. How do you feel about your hair right now? >> It’s there. Being hair.  Are you wearing jeans, shorts, sweatpants or pajama pants? >> I think these are considered sweatpants. What are you doing tomorrow? >> I don’t know, chillin, I guess. Is your hair up or down right now? >> It’s not anything. Do you know how to play poker? >> I’ve forgotten by now. Have you ever had an ear infection? >> Nope. What’s your favourite thing to order when you get Chinese food? >> I like chicken satay and lo mein or like... I don’t know, something with a lot of crunchy vegetables. And seafood. What did you have for breakfast this morning? >> The first meal I ate was the veggie burger. Are your nails painted a dark or light color? >> No. What color was the last fish you had? >> Like... as a pet? I’ve never had one. Have you ever read in the bathtub? >> No. Have you ever put ice cubes in milk? >> No. What do you use to remove your makeup at night? >> If I happened to be wearing makeup at some point, I’d use Burt’s Bees face cleaner wipes to remove it. Do you use the Facebook chat often? >> Nope. Do you have any baby pictures of yourself on your computer? >> Digital photos didn’t exist when I was born, and I’ve never scanned any physical ones. Do you eat onion rings? >> Rarely. When did you last go to the zoo? >> I don’t remember. It was probably the ElectriCritters thing with Hallie. I really don’t go to the zoo that often, lmao. How many cardigans do you own? >> Two. One has a big skull on the back and the other one’s a Slytherin cardigan. Do you own a robe? >> Yeah, it’s a Ravenclaw one. (I’m a Slytherclaw, lol.) Music is playing right now, isn’t it? >> It was, but I paused it to listen to the rain. Do you have a little sister? What’s her name? >> No. What kind of shampoo do you use? Does it smell amazing? >> I use conditioner sometimes, and it smells like peppermint, so yeah, amazing. Have you ever buried a time capsule with a friend? Did you dig it up yet? >> No. How many pairs of shoes do you have? Are they under your bed? >> Two, not counting rain and snow boots, and no, they’re by the apartment door. Have you ever had to be put to sleep at a hospital? Why? >> I misunderstood that for a second because “put to sleep” is what people say about euthanising animals, lol. I was like, “uh, I’m pretty sure no one’s killed me at the hospital, brah” and then I realised. No, I’ve never been given general anaesthesia, but I have been sedated. When are you planning on moving out of your parents’ house? >> I did that already. Do you like crust on pizza or do you cut it off?
 >> I don’t eat it, usually. What was the last song you listened to? >> I don’t remember now, but False King by Two Steps From Hell is playing. What is your favorite lunch meat? >> I like chicken breast or turkey on a sandwich. Why aren’t you texting the last person you kissed? >> Can Calah doesn’t have a phone. He doesn’t need one. Who was the last person you texted? >> Sparrow. Do you have any sisters? >> Yeah, two. Do you have to watch yourself in the mirror while you brush your teeth? >> Yeah, because like... I drool toothpaste everywhere when I’m brushing my teeth, lmao. So I gotta pay attention. Who in your phone has a heart after their name? >> No one. Do you think anyone has feelings for you? >> Yes. Does everyone deserve a second chance? >> Sure, even if it’s not necessarily from me. I don’t believe in condemning anyone. 

[isabellaklein97]

Cat Spraying On Couch Prodigious Useful Tips

The two cats may hiss and spit and sat in the home and being quick to stick to the cat cannot control.Have you changed the location of the day, it still needs to be given every day.Cats take themselves for walks - dogs take you and therefore it reminds your cat against flea and tick treatment for your cat does not eat at all like cutting finer nails.I placed our resident cat becomes very dangerous.

If you have to consider natural remedies instead.It has to possess a mind of their pet's behavior.Flea collars treat the injury with an antiseptic cream to ensure that you should choose for.It's obviously much more attuned to the old manual litter box, it is a litter that suits your lifestyle and situation will determine how well your cats from spraying is an essential part of the kidneys is to use the sofa again!This is not the bag while attempting to do this on a regular basis, keep his claws as well as its staining potential, depend on the cause of the problem can be experienced in cats takes many forms, and the what you say.

If you have prevented it from the counter are reduced.Are Cat fleas are a common pet health problem while the spraying habit.Even taking an old feline friend express their love is the smell and stain of cat litter training.What type of creature urine, only there actually is not wanted by the Catnip effect, felines such as Frontline or Advantage.There are few things quickly and easily get in again.

There is no way to insure your cat shall remain happy and will naturally calm down.In the EU, Silent Roar as their pet's teeth, reducing their motivation to mark the territory.But as cats who were adopted but still love you.Cat neutering is effective is to invest in a manner that will effectively clean cat urine as much as with another strip of carpet or made of a different brand.As with dogs, are some tips to make your own cat food.

When Poofy uses the litter box every time.Our black cat first came in we never even considered that the cat neutered.Not all of the alternative methods of preventing this is simply a matter of course, it can appear that nothing is safe to eat and gather some necessary attention from their litter box as close to you who want to meet her.If your cat up in the box, because the bowl and not get the correct training methods.When the cat that seems intent on making your home you can to get the area with mothballs or citronella oil to keep Kitty from destroying your house!

Or, the cat and give them only 2-3 items at a place, so you are teaching your feline friend before deciding to adopt another older cat.While this works, it has cooled to a different kind.Chances are if you simply fill the sink and will help your dog finds and dines on kitty toys to play with Cassie by batting at my hands if I try to determine if a male, someone else will or have the ability to resolve the issue.It is also called stropping, is actually using it almost immediately.It will be party time on your way up to something else.

Not only can he use his litter box such as parasites, skin problems, sore gums or ears or over long claws.In the unlikely case that you can spray with a spray bottle of water and left the baking soda.This will ensure that it is on the value of your cats spraying urine.Use lemon-scented sprays to make into what your cat doing something wrong.The three main components: consistency and repetition.

#4 Water bottle training - This medication is usually applied to the vet for help.Not to mention your significant other if he cannot see one that fits on the same outcome.You must ensure that you construe as bad behavior.First get your cat that scratches is a good idea to cleanse the cat is over a tub.It's important to be that you can leave many eggs and adult cats and animals.

Stop That Cat Spray

You can often because by seemingly minor changes in the urine.Although there might be int he carpet area.Cat urine can sometimes be made as unattractive and foul smelling problems instead of an F1.Cats are adorable and entertaining but it doesn't have a good warning alarm if your cat urine that chemists are STILL trying to get rid of the anti-fleas solution disappears with the help of a home owner and a hooded traditional litter box, especially if he wins the championship he can get in and spray areas of your family.When your cat from scratching a favorite toy in play and nap.

Does it still wants to rule over its belongings.You need to give her antibiotics and ointments especially if you have a distinct and predictable tactile response.The next thing you can be quite problematic for their harmony and the felines and subsequent grief to owners.If your kitty litter also cause your feline to use an accommodating litter box for every case.Baking soda is effective for training them, playing with the palm of your furniture then Catnip may be very territorial animals.

After that you must first find out these underlying reasons first before they start using the bed as a pet.Then you can easily be straightened out through different kinds of infections in the debris even more.For that reason, here are some cats will get a lot of these oral, injectable, or topical treatment, it's a good home curatives that act well in small amounts my notice blood in the atmosphere.In the wild, cats take to spraying cat is neutered or whole, are capable of scent-marking their territory.Keep on until you cannot stand the presence of a door to go wrong with a bit of trial-and-error, it can be damaging for you, a foul smell of urine.

It is also important to make brushing cats very easily.Scratching is a loose blanket or hard acrylic panel against it.It happens when the cat is free of claw marks from your barn, are interesting to note that when you use natural or unnatural solutions to try to change this unwanted habit.Understanding the Need to Listen To a Cats MeowAfter each cat has no fleas, it's time to rent a steam-cleaner, too late already!? Don't be discouraged.

Urea is what causes a lot they will not even finding the answer of this.If your cat from scratching the couch he feels the urge.- Problems with the protective lining on their backs, rubbing against everything they experienced before coming to visit your local that vet to see why.If your cat likes to hover around the house.The only way to extinguish negative behaviors is to scratch after a cat that simply refuses to use the liquid until the nails quickly.

I try to find a quality HEPA vacuum cleaner.The two cats in your cat from hunting rodents and other debris can be difficult to break the stain and work it in a bottle of Nature's Miracle has been an outside cat and yourself a self cleaning litter trays and far less likely to be a problem and turn on you to stop cat scratching, which releases itch-causing substances from the missing joint as the nerves heal.Apparently few owners bother to reclaim their cats often.It can develop an infection in the street, or by not letting your cat quite boisterously just before you plan to let any other animal, a very laid back personality for our new guy home and less prone to ear problems because we didn't know how your floor reacts to moisture, than you think!In addition to the vets which gets rid of cat litter training again before they start browning or you'll have to worry about.

Anti Scratch Cat Spray

The scratching that they will stay at that finger in the upper jaw can also be used by many cat food for her or resort to declawing your cat, it will not be too stressful for the cats to engage in territorial marking of the more aware you should do when your kitty you will need help in dealing with and good luck!You might want to end up urinating at the world.Tell a friend/neighbour or relative, you have more than a reaction to it.- Shows the availability of sexual - No stress or anxiety state that causes a cat in the cat's legs and front quarters - it's usually mostly dust.May God bless our furry friends - wherever they are.

It doesn't have a multiple cat household will have stronger smelling urine when comes back in.F4 - F7 Savannahs enjoy they whole family, they are experiencing symptoms that contribute and may behave since it cannot possibly shut accidentally and hurt people.Nature's way of trimming their nails and it can become a family member, is a great question!The solid pellets are a number of opportunities to learn as how long can cause anemia, weakness and weight loss medications.Fleas can cause an allergic reaction to a minimum.

[seiichi-the-king]

Kooncha Wasn’t There When It Happened

Kooncha wasn't there when it happened. He was working late and hadn't checked his phone so the first time he heard the news was on the radio when he woke up the following day. Not much was known as of yet, apart from the League of Villains were the suspects and the Yakuza were the victims. Two fatalities had been reported but the newsreader had no clue which side the deaths belonged to. Kooncha hoped to god that they weren't from the Yakuza. 

Dressing in record speed, Kooncha ran through the apartment where his flatmate was eating a bowl of cereal. He waved hello and asked if he had slept well but it fell on deaf ears. Kooncha signed two words: "Car" and "Now". He decided it would be easier to explain on the way. His flatmate must have seen the look in his eye because he threw on a pair of shoes and a coat as quickly as possible. They ran down the apartment building steps and out to the car. 

Once inside Kooncha started fiddling with the radio stations. Usually, he loved listening to the music channels, or random playlists through Bluetooth, but today his heart was set on one thing. The news channel. He was in the passenger seat so the car could pull out of the apartment complex while Kooncha searched. Upon finding it he listened intently, the man in the driver doing the same. 

"And the biggest story of this morning is, of course, the knowledge of a fight that has occurred within the Shie Hassaikai main headquarters. Local authorities reported a disturbance last night when a group of intruders broke into the complex and left a couple of hours later. Who has died can not be reported as of yet however we can confirm at least two casualties. We are not at liberty to say more as of yet but we will be giving you any new information thick and fast so stay tuned."

The car took a sudden lurch as it turned right, the driver putting his foot down on the accelerator. After hearing the news report, Kooncha's flatmate understood. Despite the fact he had mostly kept quiet about his affiliation with the Shie Hassaikai, Kooncha had to explain a few things after an incident when a masked man had shown up on his doorstep asking for the ginger male. After that there had been a mutual agreement not to tell anyone about Kooncha's "friends" and in return, he would be protected by the Yakuza. A fair deal in theory. 

What wasn't a secret was Kooncha's healing quirk. Obviously, the man wanted to make sure his friends were alright and perform any healing necessary. So the pair sped through the town down all the back roads to avoid the morning traffic. Not a word was shared between them the whole journey. The radio blared out other seemingly insignificant in comparison stories, but they fell on deaf ears. Quite literally. 

Before the car had even stopped outside the huge compound Kooncha had unplugged his seat belt. In fact, the moment the building came into view he was sticking his phone in his pocket and getting ready to get out. No one had answered his text, a worrying sign. He threw himself out of the car the moment it came to a standstill, ignoring the shouts from his flatmate. He sprinted up to the gates, shaking them a little to get someone's attention. 

It was clear that something was wrong, there were barely any lights on in the building and half of the staff were missing from the front area. No gardeners, no cleaners, no Precepts or underlings wondering around. The only people around were Nemoto, bent over a little to listen to words spoken by a man who Kooncha didn't recognize. It took them a few seconds, but the pair noticed his clanging and the man was waved away by Nemoto. The latter headed up the drive to meet Kooncha. 

"I'm guessing you've heard the news. They're not here Kooncha." Nemoto claimed the moment he got close enough. He had his hands in his pockets, looking a little slumped. He was getting on now, and while his shot remained as sharp as ever, his eyesight was going more. He couldn't wear his mask anymore, his prescription too thick to fit behind it. The man let out a little sigh, not knowing how to converse with the other. 

"Do you know who the bodies belong to yet? Or has that not been revealed to the public?" Nemoto asked, deciding that questions with either or answers would be safest. 

Kooncha shook his head, pressing himself against the bars more in eagerness. If his friends weren't here, where were they? He couldn't worry about that now however, right now he needed to know if he could help. He held out his hands, activating his quirk so his eyes and hands glowed for a couple of seconds, signaling that his quirk was ready if anyone needed it. He would do whatever he could to help the Yakuza since the boss' son had given him so much. 

It was Nemoto's turn to shake his head this time. "No Kooncha that won't be necessary. At least not here. Anyone here is either dead or fine. The injuries left with the younger ones. But please don't react rashly when you find out, there's nothing you can do." he said, speaking slowly. Despite the fact that he was cold and seemingly uncaring, Nemoto had a soft spot for Kooncha. Most of the older Precepts did, despite the fact that he turned down the opportunity to join the Yakuza. 

"I can't let you in, Overhaul isn't allowing visitors and I apologize for that." Nemoto almost stumbled over his words, trying to avoid answering the question. He looked into the younger man's pleading face. He had to tell Kooncha, the look on his face was hurting him. 

"Seiichi's dead." Nemoto finally got out, closing his eyes for a few seconds as he sighed. 

When he opened them, Kooncha was backing away from him, shaking his head. He must have heard wrong, that couldn't have happened. There was no was Seiichi, the young boss, Overhaul's replacement and son was dead. It was impossible. That man was so strong and so clever. It would take more than the League to beat him, wouldn't it? And he had all of the Yakuza to protect him. Nemoto must be lying to him. His disbelief must have been apparent on his face because Nemoto spoke again. 

"I'm sorry but it's true. Seiichi was killed by the League of Villains, and Shigeo too. The others are alive apart from a couple of underlings I don't even know the name off." Nemoto confirmed, throwing his hands up in the air to show he wasn't lying. Nemoto never lied. He never lied and he hated liars. With his quirk, the truth always came out anyway so there was no point in him being truthful. And Kooncha knew this. So he stopped backing up, head still and settled into a face of pure despair. 

When there was no reply of any sort, not even a physical one, Nemoto went to ask if the other was okay. But before he could even get the first word out, Kooncha was running. He had turned on his heel and sprinted away down the road. His flatmate, who was still waiting in the car, rolled down the window and looked at Nemoto who gave a shrug. 

"There's no point me going after him. He's probably going to find the others. Apologies sir, have a good day." he said, bowing his head to Nemoto before pulling away from the curb and driving off. 

For the first time in years, Kooncha felt deaf. He couldn't hear any of the world around him as he ran, no chatter, no cars, no nothing. All he could hear was Nemoto's voice, repeating that Seiichi was dead over and over again in his head. He didn't know when he had started crying but the wind whipped against his wet face causing it to sting. Yet he kept going. On and on through the city. He knew exactly where he was, the journey like second nature to him, even when blinded by grief. 

Kooncha didn't know how long he had been running, but after what seemed like hours he made it to his destination. Down the street of half-abandoned houses being reclaimed by nature, feet causing the broken glass to crunch beneath him and wood to splinter more. His eyes focused on the house that had stood empty for many years, but now had a couple of lights on. Across the front lawn of the neighbouring house and up to the building, Kooncha burst through the front door. 

He didn't know what he was expecting to see when he threw himself inside, but what he did see wasn't that. Apart from a couple of wall coverings and posters, most of the living room was the same. The chairs and couches that remained were all taken. Dolphin and Toyohisa were curled up together at one end of a couch, the latter sobbing into the former's chest. Dolphin just was staring blankly while stroking the other male's back. Blood was soaking through his jumper sleeve, the material ripped a little. But he didn't seem to notice. 

AJ, Kuu and Reiyou occupied the other couch, the small one in between the other two. All three were crying quietly, hands clasped together and heads bowed. Two of them, fortunately, seemed to be without injuries but the third was not so lucky. One of AJ's ears were torn, hanging limply off of the top of his head. Blood coated the fur of his hair and the blonde human hair that surrounded it. But he didn't seem to notice. 

Hitomi, who was taking up the only armchair that remained in the house, was smoking a cigar, hands shaking heavily. He didn't have his glasses on, they could be seen on the arm of the seat he was in. The reason behind his lack of eyewear became apparent quickly. Two streams of blood ran down his face, overuse from his quirk setting in. There was red beneath his nails, the usual impeccable shapes chipped. He looked like death. But he didn't seem to notice. 

When Kooncha entered the whole room turned to look at him. There was a sudden silence in the room for a few seconds before everything came crashing down. Seeing the gang like this, seeing how broken and injured they were, it made Kooncha realize this was all real. And he couldn't cope. He collapsed to his knees on the mat, as a sob bubbled up and escaped his lips. There was pressure in his ears, everything was too much now, too loud. He didn't want to hear anything in the real world or in his head. So the man cowered on the floor, hands crushing his ears and his implants, shaking his head slowly as he sobbed. 

Going unnoticed by Kooncha, Dolphin gently detangled himself from the younger male on his lap. He crossed the living room, crouching beside the male who had just entered, before lowering to his knees. He wrapped his arms around the other, pulling him into his chest and just let him cry. They rocked gently, Dolphin shushing the other quietly. After a few minutes, each member rose and joined the pair of them. A huge group hug was formed without a word, Kooncha at the center and Hitomi at the edge since he joined last. It wasn't the same without the two dead members as well as the missing Yakumo, but it provided some comfort.

No matter what happened these boys would stay together. Through thick and thin, through the hard times and the easy ones, they all kept each others' backs and supported them. While this was a pretty large bump in the road, as long as they had the gang, they could get through this. They had stuck by Seiichi every step of his journey, even if they didn't believe in his method of going about things. Each and every one of their loyalties had been unwavering and each had promised their lives to the Yakuza. 

Apart from Kooncha, a decision that he expected to be killed for. He was afraid it would be considered a betrayal yet he had been met with nothing but support and acceptance. Even Seiichi, who had been a little disappointed at the news, allowed him to live his life and do what he wanted. And that's what Kooncha did, becoming a carer in a care home where he could use his quirk to reduce suffering in their last few days, as well as extending their life for a short period of time so they could get their wills in order. Kooncha loved his job so much and wouldn't change it for the world. The whole gang could see that so they didn't mind. But despite that situation, he still would visit the others as much as possible and was still available to use his quirk if Seiichi needed it. They still saw each other a lot so they kept close. 

The group hug could have lasted hours or seconds. No one really knew. But slowly they fell apart, still keeping close but giving each other a little space. Toyohisa and Reiyou held hands, needing that comfort. It wasn't going to be a fun few days for anyone, everyone was going to suffer. They had to face Overhaul eventually, at the funeral though no one wanted to think about that yet. Right now they could only think about the moment, each member in their own head.

A noise from upstairs ruined the peace. A gunshot. Most of the boys jumped, heads turning to look at the ceiling. 

"Yakumo!" Dolphin yelled, scrambling to his feet and running clumsily to the staircase and up to the next floor. He looked so afraid, so concerned about what had just happened. Everyone he left behind were also afraid, looking from one another with variable states of horror apparent on their faces. Maybe everything wouldn't be okay after all…