#someone literally goes out there where there's nothing but metal containers

[beaversatemygrandma]

I keep hearing the gunshots but the rent sure ain't getting lower

[ariel-seagull-wings]

TOP 10 BEST CHARACTERS FROM 31 MINUTOS

@thealmightyemprex @goodanswerfoxmonster @angelixgutz @the-blue-fairie @themousefromfantasyland @princesssarisa @softlytowardthesun @tamisdava2 @faintingheroine @moonbeamelf​ @world-of-puppets​​

Every one has a show that they love, who hasn’t nearly enough people talking about it... so we take as our duty to obsess over it and scream about it to the four corners of the world until someone gets annoyed.

In my case, this obsession is the chilean puppet comedy show 31 Minutos (31 Minutes in english): the show explores the lives of a group of characters from the fictional city of Titirilquén, who work in the title show’s morning news, both showing their presentations of the different segments and the internal backstage drama that goes in the production.

With each episode being a self contained story, you can watch in any order and understant the general formula of the series and the characters personalities. Its strenght lies mainly in two things: the handmaid quality charm of the puppets, who rather than all being perfectly crafted animals, humanoid or monsters can vary from a literal socker ball with a mustache and glasses to the basic sock puppet, without ever looking lazy, and the caotic humour born out of the many, many flaws of the characters, who are still pretty likable.

Sometimes we laugh WITH them.

Sometimes we laugh AT them.

One thing is sure: you will rarely be bored with this colorfull cast of characters, and now I shall present the ranking of top 10 best of them.

What is the criterion that makes them the best? Only the most important criterion: my personal preferences.

10º Mico, el Micófono.

A microfone with plastic eyes and Mickey Mouse like high pitch voice that is a field reporter. An idea so silly that it must be a stroke of genius. Mico is the reporter who opens the morning show with the survey sections, asking people the most random question like “What is your nickname”, “What are you afrayed of?” and “What is the ugliest world that you know?”. 

Are the surveys usefull for something? Not really. But the citizens of Titirilquén sure find flattering that someone is asking them their opinions on SOMETHING. Overall, Mico is very polite and sweet. However, he is no innocent: if you dare to make him angry, he will stop at nothing to get his revenge.

The mascot of 31 Minutos shows that you shall never underestimate the little person... and that is why i love him so much.

09º Jackson Aceituno.

A racoon with huge black eyes that resemble giant olives (hence his surname Aceituno, wich is spanish for olive), originally he was a field reporter that covered the events in the city of Titirilquén, before receiving the ungratefull promotion of war correspondent, covering the conflict between the warring nations of Salsacia and Conservia, whose inhabitants are literary made of metal cans. During those years, his face was hurt so bad that he has been hiding it under a white and red scarf ever since, wich becamed the characters definitive look.

Far from malicious, hard working and resilient, no matter that he doesn’t know the languages of the warring nations to be helpfull at diplomacy, and how much times he receives lost bullets and is made a hostage: he will always be ready to keep audiences informed of what is happening in the war torn lands.

That suicidal level of professionalism is a rarity in 31 Minutos, and so its really worthy of admiration.

08º Mario Hugo.

Full name: Ernesto Felipe Mario Hugo.

Originally, this white chihuahua was only a field reporter whose only real quirk was being slightly stiff and having a ridiculously long list of pet dogs he'd say hello to. However, around the start of season two, he started gaining a lot more screen time and even got his own section in the show called La Dimensión Hermosa y Desconocida (The Beautifull and Unknown Dimension), where he talks about the things that surprise and bewilder him in nature and in people, gaining a more phylosophical personality.

Combine this with his unrequited crush on fellow field reporter Patana, and you will have in Mario Hugo the figure of a quixotesque misguided romantic, who you can’t help but pity and want to give a hug.

The melancolic dreamer is a character type that I always find fascinating, and Mario Hugo is one of its greatest representatives, wich is why he becamed one of my favorite characters in the show.

And since i talked about Mario Hugo’s crush on his colleague...

07º Patana.

Full birth name Patricia Ana Tufillo Triviño, this green lady bird is the niece of 31 Minutos anchor Tulio Triviño. Sent to Titirilquén by her mother to get a job in the news show, originally her uncle abhored her due to her initial trend to scheme pranks, giving her jobs like cleaning the floor and serving coffee. Seeing that her uncle wouldn’t give her a good job, Patana decides to take things in her own hands, going into the dangerous scenario of a house robbery to show she can be a competent field reporter. And she did, not only informing audiences of what was happening in real time, but managing to make the robber and the house’s owner befriend each other and stop the crime! 

Talk about being a badass!

This made her colleagues and the boss impressed, so she becamed a field reporter in the show, dashingly going into adventurous scenarios, and also coming up with creative sections like the reality show Patana’s Refrigerator, where several food itens compete to stay longer in the titular refrigerator.

Speaking of impressing the boss...

06º Eusebio Manguera.

This black rolled up hose tube in a suit is the owner of the channel where 31 Minutos is transmited. A dangerous greedy milionary mobster who can fire and rehire on a whim, everyone who works on the show knows that he is a monster, and fear let him pissed of. And what makes him specially intimidating is his voice: he has a very, very deep voice that he doesn’t need to raise to convey his anger when things don’t go his way.

And while he is a dangerous criminal, he also has standards of quality, demanding dignity, eficiency and competence of the staff to produce a good TV morning news show.

While his right to call out anyones moral’s is really questionable, its interesting to see the token evil character assume a leadership position and how much he cares about doing a good job, so you can’t help find this hateable boss fascinating to watch.

05º Policarpo Avendaño.

The wig wearer, cylindrical, energetic and renowned music critic and cultural producer, host of the "Ranking Top" section of 31 Minutos, where he lists the Top 3 current best songs. Usually called to host major-scale events like the Top Top Awards.

A shameless oportunist, Policarpo always flatters those with power and chooses to side with them when he feels this can benefit him, while secretly resenting them and letting his friends be screwed alone.

His nepotism to judge the Top 3 current best songs is also a recurring joke, because the winners are always “The godchild of the cousin of my neighbour”, or something alike. But the fact that he always returns to embrace his friends, clearly sounds passionate about the topic of music and gives such a joyfull presentation of his section makes impossible to hate him.

He is simply great fun to be around, and that is why he is one of my favorite characters.

04º César Quintanilla/Calcetín Con Rombos Man.

His nickname literary means Sock With Holes Man.

The superhero of the universe of 31 Minutos. An orphan sock with diamond patterns who is also a superhero for Ciudad Comoda (Nightstand City). Originally treated as the fictional character of an in universe superhero show that is exhibited as one of the segments of 31 Minutos, soon he was shown interacting with the shows crew, changing his status from fictional hero to an in universe real character who is a known public figure in Titirilquén, where the characters look after him for moral guidance, specially because rather than using violence, he will rather solve problems trough the use of dialogue, teaching the characters and the audience about UNICEF’s Convention of the Rights of The Child to help people in need.

In a show where a mobster is a powerfull media mogul and several characters act out of greed and selfishness, the sock with sweeming glasses superhero is a nice reminder that is still worthy to be genuinelly good, wich keeps a balance of perspective and helps the show to avoid falling into edgy cynicism.

That’s why he wins a place as one of my favorite characters.

03º Tulio Triviño.

The main character for most episodes, the puppet of unknown species Tulio Triviño Tufillo is the anchorman and host of 31 Minutos. He started out as the straight every person, a bit naive, but still generous, and caring of making a good job. After the series got a better production value and a larger cast, the writing of Tulio evolved to make him more flawed: while well articulated in his way of talking and concerned to keep the order in the studio, he is also greedy, selfish, self absorbed, with a tendency of overspending his salary with superfluous expensive things and pretends to be more inteligent than he actually is. 

So watching the karma bite him in the ass after he screws up is always great to watch, while he is nicely humanized by ocasionally seeing the error of his ways and reluctantly apologizing

He can understand the difference of right and wrong and since he is basically a subordinate of actual dangerous mobster Eusebio Manguera, you understand that Tulio is not really the problem, but rather someone who lashes at others bellow him because he is trapped under an actual evil power.

Mix to this his charisma as a host, and you end up enjoying the character of Tulio.

02º Juanín Juan Harry.

The last of a species known as the Juaníns, Juanín Juan Harry is the producer and organizer of 31 Minutos, who, while extremely passive and an easy target of peer pressure to mess up, is decently competent and the most innocent, gentle and responsable member of the crew, always concerned in keeping the studio organized and remembering what the hosts and reporters have to say.

Whereas someone like Calcetín Con Rombs Man is the idealized powerfull good guy who always wins against the villains, Juanín represents the goodness in the little person who, while in a situation where they are submissive to mean people in the work place, still keep being his pure and kind self, wich we all know sometimes can be an even greater battle. 

And my Number One favorite character from 31 Minutos is...

01º Juan Carlos Bodoque.

A red rabbit, and a reporter with a strong reputation in and out of the show, Juan Carlos delivers the "Nota Verde" ("Green Note"),�� ecological and historical report initially about Chilean ecology and culture, but eventually branching out to cover more general topics mostly relating to environmentalism and animal preservation.

Bodoque is a deadpan snarker cynic, agressive, quick to anger, and full of debts due to his gambling adiction. However, he still cares in making the ecological reports and also started to work on the census section and make reports about the quarantine. 

Being a wildlife and enviromentalist reporter, he has a strong set of morals and is quick to correct himself upon learning new information, all the while not punishing himself with an exagerated guilt complex nor acting like a holier than thou preacher to the other characters or the audience (at worst he only sighs with a “I am surrounded by idiots” mood).

He always treats the subjects he reports as a nice and light hearted, if sometimes melancholic, conversation.

Bodoque is the great example of an Anti Nihilist character: he shows that while life can be bad and meaningless and we are usually a mess, we still can do the best that we can to do good and save this shitty little world, because is the only one that we have, so its better to value it.

This complexity free of pretense is why Bodoque has become the break out character of 31 Minutos, and my personal favorite.

[ghostly-penumbra]

DannyMay 2022. Day Four

"Videotape"

Ao3 FFN

Summary: In the cursed school of Casper High, a box is unearthed, within it, a ray of hope shines.

Crossover with the anime Another. Contains BIG, HEAVY spoilers for the anime, namely the origin of the curse, the way it works, and how to stop it. No actual character spoilers tho.

WARNING: For descriptions of death and murder. And some swearing.

- - -

Transcript from the video found in an unmarked USB drive, sealed in a Ziploc bag and buried in a metal box next to Casper High's memorial.

The video starts by showing the face of a girl in her teen years, with black hair and violet eyes. Here eyeliner was smudged, running down her cheeks following the path of dry tears, her eyes are red.

GIRL: This is Sam Manson, second year Casper High student from class C.

Sam stops talking and purses her lips in a bitter smile.

SAM: Yeah, the cursed class. So you probably know how this is going to go.

She stands up and steps back from the camera, sitting down in what becomes clear is a classroom.

SAM: [Sigh] I- I'm recording this because- [Sob] because I can't really tell anyone what happened. What I did. Because they won't actually care; their memories already changed, and even now I can feel mine do the same.

SAM: Besides... I don't wanna face what I did. What it cost to break- to pause the curse.

She looks intensely at the camera.

SAM: So if you are watching this, if you went through the trouble of digging this up, it means you're desperate. And you have to be desperate enough to... to go through with it.

SAM sniffles and looks to the side.

SAM: I guess I should start from the very beginning, with how our curse started.

There is a pause, where SAM breathes in and slowly lets it out.

SAM: It all started twenty years ago, with a trio of friends. Jack, Maddie and Vlad. They were the best of friends, a trio of weird, unpopular kids that only each other liked. They were weirdly obsessed with death and ghosts —as in, "I'll study this when I grow up"—, so it's no wonder things ended up like they did.

She sighs heavily and rubs her face with both hands, tired.

SAM: There was an accident. They were working on a science project, I don't really know the details, but I think they were in their second year, right here in Casper. It went awfully bad, that thing blew up in Vlad's face, and I mean that literally, it exploded right in the moment Vlad was doing maintenance, it scarred his face, put him in a comma, and he died a few weeks later. Lancer —the professor that told this to us— had just started teaching when this happened, and he said that Vlad's death affected the whole school, specially his class, but the Fen- Jack and Maddie more than anyone. So much that they didn't even move on from the denial stage of grief.

The recording glitches for a second, but then goes on as if nothing.

SAM: They refused to accept their friend was dead, and pretended he was still there with them, going to classes, having lunch, hanging out... goes to show the need for therapy, but anyway. Lancer said, that the other students felt pity for them, or they disliked the way the school felt after Vlad died, but whatever the reason, soon the whole class had joined in, and pretended everything was alright, to the point that Lancer himself joined them.

SAM pauses for a second, looking tired, and sighs.

SAM: That's really fucked up, man. Nothing happened to them, that year or their next, but once their generation graduated and another one came in, the curse set in, and students or their relatives began dying. The reigning theory is that after the Vlad incident, our class was... marked... as one that welcomes the dead, and every year, there is a student that is a ghost, someone that died before classes started, but no one remembers... not even the ghost themselves. Reality gets warped, school records change, pictures, videos... honestly, I don't know if this thing will be complete or coherent when you find it. I sure hope so, for your sake; I'll put it in a... special container, in any case.

The video glitches again.

SAM: No one remembers who died, and that's the thing, not even Death remembers who died, so it kills us at random until it hits the mark.

There is bitterness in her voice and her lips curl up in a sneer.

SAM: Fucking idiot can't do its one fucking job right and we get fucked over for it.

There is a crash as something breaks off-camera, but SAM doesn't flinch, only glares towards it with the fury of a thousand suns, and after a moment where nothing happens, she continues.

SAM: And now comes the worst part, for me, at least. If you have been paying attention, you know where this is going. It sucked for me and it will suck for you.

SAM's eyes begin to water, and she takes deep breaths. She carries on.

SAM: The only way to... to pause the curse for your class, not to stop it, because a freshman died a few days ago, is by returning the dead to Death. You have to find out who is the ghost in your class, and kill them.

SAM's lips tremble, and her shoulders shake.

SAM: I know this because that's what I did, two weeks ago.

A tear runs down her cheek. The video glitches.

SAM: Our curse was getting worse; the deaths were happening more often, they were bloodier, and the "ignore one kid" method had stopped working when Mikey —our "kid—, died... we still don't know if that was because of the curse, or just another unfortunate death... we were running out of time, and had no more ideas, so we just tried our luck and went to this old church outside Elmerton. It's just a fucking tourist trap, but we needed anything to hope; fuck, I'm Jewish and I went anyway.

She closes and opens her fists where they rest in the hem of her skirt.

SAM: We were praying and shit, when Tucker —my friend who knows a lot about technology— said he had found a weird wifi signal, with a name he recognized, so we went to check it out...

SAM: That church we went to, it has this stupid statue of a Saint or something, and its eyes are supposed to shine really bright in a certain way when something divine happened- I don't know! But lo and be-fucking-hold, there was a fucking panel of control, connected to the lightning system in the statue and... and stuck there, was mister Lancer, choked by several cords, dead... we didn't know how he ended up like that, or when did he get separated from us, but there he was... we freaked out, Tucker ran to alert the others, and Danny- [Sob] our... our other friend, stayed behind with me. He wanted to get Lancer out of there, show respect for him. I told him we should just leave and run away... we started arguing, started yelling at each other... we were very fucking stressed, and taking out on each other, and when push came to shove—

SAM's voice breaks, and she starts crying openly now.

SAM: I pushed him! Right towards Lancer and that fucking hazard of a panel and- and it killed him! Electrocuted him to death...

SAM sobs, and tries to stop the flow of tears with her hands, but only smears more her eyeliner.

SAM: I killed Danny. I killed my best friend. And then I remembered, it wasn't the first time I had done that...

SAM: The summer before our freshman year, Danny's parents, Jack and Maddie Fenton, had built this... thing, they wanted it to be a portal to the afterlife, they wanted to find ghosts, still. But it didn't work, because of course it didn't. So we went to check it out, because I wanted to. I convinced Danny to get inside it to take him a picture, and I don't know why or how... it turned on, with Danny inside. The portal electrocuted him to death, and I didn't remember until it happened again, until I killed him for a second time.

Tears keep running down her face, but SAM is no longer sobbing. She just has a resigned expression on her face as she stares off into the distance.

SAM: I ran to find Tucker, and found the class getting ready to go. Scared. I told him what had happened, how I killed Danny again but... he didn't remember. He only remembered Danny as some kid we used to hang out with when we were little, not as our best friend we had seen die on his basement, or the classmate that had been with us since our first year. So I took him to see his body... but it wasn't there anymore, only Lancer's.

SAM: He- he thinks I've gone crazy from everything, but I know I'm not because since that day, no one else has died, neither a student nor a relative. It's all as it should be... and I hate it.

SAM: So there you have it. To break the curse, you have to kill the extra student. No matter who it is... not matter how much they deserve to live... more than you, or your classmates. Look for someone with gaps in their memory, try finding any records... don't fall into panic... and try not to die.

SAM stands up tiredly and walks towards the camera, presumably to turn it off, but before she can reach it, the video glitches once again, and the dark figure of a boy with his whole body burnt and covered in Lichtenberg figures appears behind her, icy blue eyes staring right at her.

SAM's hand reaches the camera, and the video ends.

-

Holly fuck that’s probably the longest fic I’ve written yet. When I finally finish this (which will be in a long while) I’m probs gonna ask for someone to beta it so it’s better.

Some thoughts:

This portal is still a safety hazard and that’s why it kills Danny. It doesn’t actually work and that’s why Danny doesn’t come back. Danny died because Jazz’s was in the cursed class and Death got to him.

SPOILER: I had other ideas on how this could go down, with a counselor Vlad being the Another to parallel better the anime, and having the OG ghost back again. Or maybe Jazz.

Mikey did die in a normal, non-cursed way. It was a tragedy not only because he was so young, but because it unleashed the curse again.

Lancer died in that church in Elmerton even though they were outside Amity at the time because in my head, a long time ago Elmerton actually used to be part of Amity Park, but it became its own city/town at some point, but the curse doesn’t care.

Should I tag as ambiguous ending?

[nikadoesanart]

Dazai living in a shipping container analysis

I’ll be talking about the “pros” and “cons”, if you can even call them that, of Dazai living in a shipping container near a dumping site. Also I am using what architecture knowledge I do have on the subject of container homes.

This is on the longer side so brace yourself. Also Stormbringer spoiler warning, in case that wasn’t realized yet.

Before I actually start I’ll preface this by saying that I’m a former architecture student but it was with a design focus. I have also previously designed a shipping container home so although I have some knowledge, it does have its limitations.

Also this will be updated when the fan translations get to this part of Stormbringer. Currently, I’m getting the information from chazukekani and popopretty’s summaries and translations, so please check them out too!

As a general reference for what to expect of a shipping container home, the average shipping container is 8 x 20 ft or 8 x 40 ft. As a more visual example, here is a portion of the container house I designed. Note that it’s total length is 30ft because I have two 20ft long containers stacked on top of each other, with a 10ft offset. The space beyond the sliding doors is a balcony and can basically be ignored for the purpose of this analysis. With the pictured dimensions, you can consider it to be insulated from the outside, so as not to sacrifice internal space. Despite this, you can see that it feels fairly cramped even with minimal furniture (a sink, toilet and shower unit in the bathroom and a bed, desk, and wardrobe closet in the master bedroom).

Dazai’s current living arrangement

Now for comparison, let’s first take note of what’s known of Dazai’s living conditions for comparison.

he’s living in an illegal dumping site, and there are toxic substances coming from the ground because of this

“Not even a field mouse would dare to approach it.” (Popopretty)

the area is not on the map and Dazai lives near the center of it (which can easily be one of the worst parts in terms of health and safety)

the container was previously “used to export passenger cars overseas” (popopretty)

his only furniture is a fridge, (exhaust) fan, desk/table, a chair, and a bare light bulb

no one would approach “not just because the place itself was weird. It was because no one could predict how Dazai would react if someone approached his private residence.” (Popopretty)

it’s been a year since he’s joined, yet no one trusts him → he could’ve been living here since before he joined but we don’t know as of yet

he’s sitting in complete darkness, lightbulb off and door shut, until Verlaine opens the door and walks in

Verlaine asks if he’s living here because he’s afraid of property taxes but Dazai claims that he’s afraid of Verlaine. He’s not actually addressing his choice of location because he only corrected Verlaine on what he fears, and gives no actual explanation for why he chose to live here.

The “pros”

Naturally unapproachable location. Even if Dazai being PM Dazai wasn’t a factor in people staying away, the nearby smell alone means no one would normally approach it, much less suspect a Port Mafia executive of all people to be living there. It’s also unmapped territory so even less reason for him to be found. This means enemies and allies alike would have a more difficult time trying to find him (ie. to come for his life) and there’s unlikely to be anyone else around. After all, if even a mouse won’t go there why would a whole person live there?

It costs him nothing. Not that it’d make a difference with what we can assume of his financial wealth. He has money, likely more than Chuuya who lives in a nice apartment in a nice area, yet chooses to live in a shipping container in an illegal dumping site. This is beneficial for Dazai, since there’s no paper trail or record of where he lives, which goes right into my 3rd point.

Ease of abandonment. Considering his whole goal at the time is to off himself without troubling others in the process, it makes sense that he’d want to leave minimal traces behind. No unpaid rent or mortgage, no one on a waiting list to move into a nice place, and no personal belongings or attachments. This winds up being a pro/advantageous when he does leave the PM since there wasn’t a trace to follow him with in the first place. He can simply grab his few things of importance and find a new shipping container or abandoned building outside of the PM’s territory. In fact, he might’ve even been able to stay there or in that general area since no one dares to approach it in the first place.

The “cons”

Or should I say say the dangerous living conditions he’s in. I don’t find them surprising because again, he doesn’t have a long term plan to live at this point. He doesn’t have much reason to care about what happens to himself, as we can deduce from his overall disregard towards being constantly injured and in danger for example. This is also where the architectural stuff comes into play.

Let’s start with the most visible one, lack of insulation. With a shipping container home, you can insulate from the inside and lose about a foot of interior space in each direction (6 in. off each wall) or from the outside and lose the aesthetic of the textured walls. Either way, it costs time and money to do it. We know it’s not insulated from the inside because of the illustration and, in my opinion, it’s very unlikely that Dazai would’ve gotten it insulated from the outside because at the very least, it would make his container stand out among the others nearby. You need to insulate a container home because they get very hot or cold in the summer and winter respectively, as they are made of metal. I’ve heard that at the very least, Japan’s summers are HOT.

This one is a little harder to confirm and will likely be updated as fan translations are released, but a likely hazardous set up for electricity and (hopefully) plumbing. If you don’t have the insulation on the inside but you still have your electrical and plumbing, it can possibly become both a visual mess and a safety hazard. It’s possible that he kept it all in the back portion of his container for example, or maybe he has it taped to the floor or walls somewhere, but that also brings the question of where it’s connected to on the outside. Since he’s on a dumping site, then where’s the electrical going to go at the very least? Sure he can use nearby public facilities but every day? He has a fridge, single lightbulb and a fan but where is the power is connected to? In terms of plumbing, I think it’s equally likely he found a Porta potty nearby or there’s (hopefully) some sort of public or PM owned facility nearby. Really, his hygiene, especially during the PM days when he was (as far as we the audience are aware) likely at his lowest, can easily become its own separate question/discussion for another day. After all, we’re just talking about the condition of his container in this post.

The possible fumes and chemicals left over. The paint on shipping containers is meant to withstand the sea water splashing on to them, so it may contain harsh chemicals. And we know that his container was used previously to ship cars overseas, but that still leaves the possibility for things to have leaked on the inside at this time. We don’t actually know if it’s been used more than once, but seeing as we do have a usage history, I’d say there’s a fair enough chance for it to have been a single use container. Still, chemicals could’ve previously leaked and the paint may be a concern in the long run. It’s also possible that it has begun rusting as well, due to the metal being exposed to the likes of sea water. Also, let’s not forget the toxic substances from the illegal dumping site itself, possibly going into the container over time.

Also as far as we can tell, there seems to be a lack of windows. This means no natural light, aside from opening a whole door. Keep in mind that windows can help with indoor temperature control, not just natural light.

Living in a dump site, especially an illegal one. This one should speak for itself but I’ll list some concerns anyway. Seeing as it’s illegal, we can probably just forget about regulations altogether, much less any possible existing ones being followed. This means that there can be literally anything from hazardous waste material, to dangerous and sharp objects on the ground, to who knows what kind of smells and fumes, etc. In short, not a safe area to live in, for health concern reasons at a minimum.

Again, my knowledge on shipping container homes themselves is limited and I do recommend checking out Belinda Carr’s videos on some of the downsides of them from a professional’s POV.

7 reasons why shipping container homes are a scam

Responding to comments: shipping container scam video

Also, just because Dazai was making presumably LARGE amounts of money obviously doesn’t mean that he has to spend it all or live luxuriously if he doesn’t want to. It’s not that hard to infer why Dazai did choose to live in such conditions and I mainly wanted to draw attention to how these conditions can affect him, with both the advantages and disadvantages.

[drabbles-mc]

Early Bird

Juice Ortiz x OFC (Chris Teller)

Request by Anon: what about an x reader insert where reader likes to workout, and Juice walks into the club gym when she is in there, and is quite taken aback by her muscularity. Anywho, they then start up working out together, and this goes on for some time, until the tension just snaps at some point, maybe reader just makes the first move

Warnings: language

Word Count: 3k

A/N: Swapped the reader-insert for an OC because not only do I really love the whole world that I’ve been building for Chris and Juice (which I’ll eventually start posting as a full fic rather than just these little one-offs) but this also worked really well in line with who I’m building her to be as a character. Hope that’s alright! Enjoy xo

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Juice heard the music bumping from the tiny room that passed for a gym at the clubhouse. Curious as to who would be there so early in the morning, he made his way down the hall. He heard the clanging of metal on metal and assumed that whoever was in there was lifting.

He peaked around the corner and his eyes grew wide when he saw Chris laid back on the bench press, getting ready for her next set. She adjusted her grip, getting her breathing right as she pushed the bar up from where it was resting and bringing it directly over her chest. Juice was on the brink of drooling as he watched her in awe. He propped himself against the doorframe silently, not wanting to disturb the zone that she had clearly put herself in.

Once she got through her next set, she let out a sigh before sitting upright. She gasped in surprise when she saw Juice standing in the doorway, letting out a slightly nervous laugh as she paused her music.

“You want to give me a heart attack first thing in the morning?”

“Do…do you always work out here?” he asked, completely ignoring her question.

“Fuck no,” she laughed as she rose up off the bench and stretched, “My gym is closed for some bullshit reason so I figured this little jail cell setup was better than nothing.”

“Hey,” Juice chuckled as he walked farther into the weight room, “it’s got the essentials. Don’t hate.”

She smiled, shaking her head, “Anyway. What’re you doing up so early?”

“About to do the same thing you are. Only, you know, with more weight,” he laughed.

She gave him a good-natured shove to the shoulder, “Shut up,” she laughed, “I’ll leave you to it, then. I just finished.”

“You’re done?” he raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“Early bird gets the worm,” she shot him a wink, “And an empty fucking gym.”

“Hey, Chris,” he smiled as he watched her walk away, “You think your gym is gonna be closed tomorrow, too?”

She laughed, not turning around to face him as she walked away, “Maybe.”

All of his plans for the morning completely went out the window. He made his way over to the door and leaned out, watching her walk down the hall. He felt his jaw go a little lax as he took in the way the muscles in her back and shoulders moved and flexed as she walked. A quiet sigh slipped past his lips when she turned the corner out of sight, and he forced himself to focus on what he had originally shown up to do. He went through the motions of his workout but if someone had asked him what he did or how it went he wouldn’t have been able to give him a good answer.

The next morning, he set an extra early alarm. He’d gone to bed early the night before so he would be able not only to wake up early, but also keep up with Chris and whatever workout she had planned. He might’ve joked around with her from time to time, but he really had no interest in going toe-to-toe with her. She carried herself with the confidence and assurance of someone who could easily put him to the ground. And, from the pump he saw in her shoulders and arms the day before, he had no doubt that the confidence she exuded was earned, not given.

When he walked into the gym, she was sitting on the ground stretching with her headphones in. Despite that, she’d heard him walk in and flicked her eyes up to him and smiled. She took one headphone out, “Decided to get a real workout this morning?”

He chuckled, “Just wanted to see what it was all about.”

As much as he wanted to ask a million questions, he didn’t. He warmed up and followed her lead, impressed at her level of focus. They bantered back and forth but he could still tell that underneath it all she was there to work.

They were finishing up with core-work on the little bit of floorspace that they had in the clubhouse gym. Juice didn’t want to admit that the moves she had him doing were making him wonder if he ever really had any core strength to begin with or if his body had been lying to him the whole time. Chris flopped onto her back when she was done, taking a deep breath before turning to look over at Juice.

“So? What’s it all about?” she was still catching her breath.

Juice wasn’t any better off as he sat up, slowly forcing himself to his feet. He wiped his hands off on his shorts before lifting the bottom hem of his shirt to wipe the sweat from his face, “It’s more than I’m ready for, apparently,” he laughed.

She tried not to make it obvious that she was staring at him when he lifted his shirt. She forced her eyes to look literally anywhere else as she propped herself back up into a sitting position. He held his hand out to her, offering to help her up onto her feet. When she gripped his hand in hers, he found himself watching the muscles in her forearm and bicep flex as she hoisted herself up off the floor. For a moment their hands stayed entwined as they took in the sight of each other. Simultaneously they both realized what they were doing and pulled their hands back to their sides. Juice was fighting inside his head to be respectful, to not get distracted by the sweat that was glistening on her skin.

“Same time tomorrow?” he finally forced the words out.

She laughed, wiping the back of her hand across her forehead, “Nah, my gym is back in business tomorrow. No more jail setup for me. Besides,” she clapped him on the outside of his arm, “Something tells me you might need a rest day tomorrow anyway.”

She was taking off out of the room before he could respond. He sighed, walking over and taking a long drink from his water bottle as he thought back over the entire morning. He drummed his fingers on the plastic container in his hands, trying to figure out what his next move was going to be, if there was going to be one.

When he went back to his dorm the next night, there was a folded-up slip of paper on his bed. He looked around the small room as though he had missed someone being in there when he walked in. he ran his hand over his mohawk as he picked it up, taking a deep breath as he unfolded it.

A little plastic card fell out and he fumbled to catch it before reading the note, “If you’re looking to get out of the jailhouse gym. -Chris” He chuckled as he looked at the card in his hand, realizing that it would let him scan into what he assumed was Chris’s gym. He tucked the card and the note both into his wallet before getting ready to go to bed. He made sure to set an extra early alarm, hoping to beat her to the gym in the morning.

When he rolled into the parking lot the next morning, Chris was already walking towards the front doors to the gym. She looked up, and he could see her shaking her head as she laughed, making her way over to him once he was parked.

“Surprised you decided to show up.”

“Couldn’t turn down a personal invite,” he couldn’t stop smiling as he grabbed his gym bag from the back seat of his car, “How’d you swing this, anyway?”

“I get one visitor with my membership,” she shrugged, “Figured having a workout partner wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.”

“Well,” he walked in behind her, “glad I’m at least not the worst thing in the world.”

He felt like he stuck out like a sore thumb, but the longer that he was there with her, the more he realized that everyone was so in their own little world. Everyone had headphones in, just focusing on themselves. It was comforting, and soon he didn’t have the time to be worrying about anyone else as Chris got him roped into everything that she was doing.

“It’s leg day, baby,” Chris laughed as she prompted him to follow her over to the squat rack, “Let’s see what you got.”

Juice laughed as he watched her slide weights onto the bar, “I’ve never skipped a leg day.”

She looked him up and down, arching one eyebrow, “I guess we’ll see.”

It became their new routine every morning. For the first time in a long time Juice found himself with someone specific to look forward to every day when he woke up. Neither of them really said anything about it to anyone. They weren’t doing anything wrong, but at the same time they knew that part of the ease and comfort of it all was that it was something that was just the two of them. Every now and then the guys would give him grief for bailing on a party early, and he’d just tell them that he had an early morning the next day, but wouldn’t offer up any other explanation.

Early morning workouts soon started extending into going out for coffee or breakfast after the fact. And once that became the routine, they both decided that there was no reason not to carpool together if they were going to spend the entire morning together. It got to the point where Juice could hear Chris’s car in the silence of the morning as soon as it turned onto his street. He’d be walking out onto the front steps as she pulled into his driveway. And no matter how many times he tried to argue that they should take turns with the music, Chris always won by saying it was her car and her gym membership so she got to pick the playlist. Realistically Juice didn’t have any issue with any of it, but he knew that the pointless arguments would get her to laugh and there were very few things that were more enjoyable than that.

One morning when she pulled into the driveway, before Juice could walk up and open the passenger door, she hopped out. He looked at her, clearly confused, “What’s up?”

“How you feel about a run today?”

Truthfully, he knew he could use a light cardio day. Working out with Chris had made him realize that while he and the guys worked out pretty frequently, they didn’t really push themselves. Some part of Juice’s body had been sore every day since he became Chris’s workout partner—he worked muscles that he didn’t even know that he had. He didn’t want to admit all of that to her, though, so he did his best to give a nonchalant shrug and not seem too excited by the prospect of it.

“Sounds good to me.”

“Distance or sprints?” she raised her eyebrows slightly.

“Distance,” there was no hesitation in the answer as he laughed, “Fuck sprints.”

She laughed, “Alright,” she grabbed her bag out of the car, “Can I toss this inside?”

He nodded, “Yea, sure,” he gestured for her to follow him.

Once she’d locked the car and put her bag inside the front door, she took off down the driveway, “Try to keep up, Juan Carlos!” she laughed.

He chuckled, shaking his head with a soft smile as he took off after her, both of them racing down the street at a pace they both knew they wouldn’t be able to sustain for any extended amount of time. They quickly eased into a more realistic pace, each of them half listening to their own music and half making sarcastic comments to each other as they jogged.

It got to the point where Juice was wondering how the two of them were going to be able to survive a return trip back to his house without their legs giving out. He was still alright for the time being but it wasn’t going to last forever. Chris, on the other hand, seemed completely unfazed.

“We gonna start heading back at some point?” he asked.

She looked over at him, “What’re you talking about?”

“To the house. We, we gotta head back eventually, right?”

She laughed, “We’re on a big loop. We got like, one mile left.”

His brows furrowed in confusion as he looked around, “Seriously?”

“Yea,” it was hard to laugh and keep her breathing even at the same time, “Dude how long have you lived around here?”

He shook his head, “Apparently not long enough.”

When they reached the bottom of his driveway again, they both stopped to try and catch their breath. Chris interlocked her fingers behind her head as she stood, trying to catch her breath. Juice leaned over, bracing his hands against his knees. Chris smiled as she watched the sweat trickle down the ink that decorated the sides of his head.

“Nice little five-mile run, huh?” she laughed as she clapped him on the back.

“Fuck,” he laughed as he forced himself to stand upright, “I’m going to be dead tomorrow. I can’t remember the last time I ran for something besides a warmup.”

“Or getting away from the cops,” she chimed in with a laugh.

He smiled, “Yea but that’s more sprinting than distance.”

“Right,” she laughed, “right.”

“You wanna,” he motioned towards the house, “want some food or something?”

Chris shrugged, “Sure, why not?”

As she walked farther into his house, she couldn’t hide the surprise on her face at how clean and orderly it all was. Growing up with Jax, and hanging out in the clubhouse all the time, gave her a very skewed view of how all the guys lived. But apparently Juice kept his own space very neat and orderly.

“If you wanna shower while I cook, you can,” he offered.

“Why? Am I that gross?” she cocked one eyebrow.

“Yea,” he laughed, “And I don’t want you getting your sweat on all my stuff.”

She shook her head with a laugh, “Fine, fine. I’ll be quick.”

There were a few moments of silence in the house before Juice could hear music being played from Chris’s phone in the bathroom. He laughed, shaking his head as he set about getting breakfast ready for the two of them.

She walked back out in a fresh pair of shorts and a sports bra, and Juice was trying not to be obvious about his staring. He set two plates out on the counter and watched her as she looked around the house. Despite the fact that it was the first time that she’d ever really been in his house, for some reason it all felt extremely familiar.

“You can eat,” he nodded towards the food on the stove, “I’m gonna rinse off real quick.”

“Yea, you can’t get your sweat on everything either,” she laughed as she walked around the counter to get her plate, her hand lightly brushing along his shoulders as she did.

He glanced back over his shoulder before walking down the hallway, and he couldn’t stop the smile spreading across his face as he watched her do a little dance as she scooped food onto her plate. He bit back a chuckle before turning around and heading off to shower.

When he walked back out into the kitchen, Chris was comfortably camped out at the counter scrolling on her phone. Her eyes flicked up and widened at the sight of him walking through his house without a shirt on.

“New ink?” she nodded towards the tattoos on his chest.

“Uh, yea,” he glanced down at the skulls for a moment before getting back on track, “got them a couple weeks ago.”

“Gotta decorate all your new muscles?” she laughed.

“Might as well, right?”

“You’re welcome,” she winked.

They sat next to each other at the counter and spent the whole morning talking. Every now and then when she laughed really hard, she’d lean over and bump her shoulder against Juice’s. He reveled in the brief contact, wishing that he was brave enough to do something about all of the thoughts in his head.

She was in the middle of a story when her phone started ringing. She sighed as she looked to see who it was, groaning when she saw her brother’s name flashing across the screen, “Yo, what’s up?” she paused, rolling her eyes as she listened to what he was asking her to do, “Alright, yea. I’m, I’m just finishing up a couple things and I’ll be right over. Love you too, bye.”

Juice looked at her expectantly, “Gotta go?”

She sighed, nodding as she got up from her seat, “Yea. Family shit.”

“Everything alright? Need me to go with you?”

She flashed him a smile, “I’m good, Juice. Thank you. And thanks for breakfast,” she walked over to pull her sneakers back on, “Gonna put the diner out of business.”

He walked over, leaning against the wall as he watched her pick up her bag and grab her keys, “Same time tomorrow?”

“Rest day tomorrow,” she saw the disappointment cross his face for a moment and she felt a smirk tugging at the edges of her mouth, “But I’ll still swing by for breakfast.”

“Yea?”

She laughed, nodding, “Yea. I, I like spending time with you, you know,” she stepped in, kissing him on the cheek, “See you tomorrow. I’ll even bring coffee.”

“O-okay,” he was trying to warp his head around everything that she was saying.

“Okay,” she chuckled, “It’s a date,” she saw the flustered look on his face and leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

“It’s a date,” his voice was almost a whisper as he listened to the quiet giggle that slipped past her lips before she turned and walked out of the house to her car.

[honey-dewey]

Pink Bubblegum and Platform Boots

Pairing: Shane ‘Dio’ Morrissey/Reader

Word Count: 2,756

Warnings: None

Dio was a bad boy. A goth, as some would say. He’s proud of it, proud of his leather and spike studded aesthetic. The litany of tattoos and piercings. So of course, when he falls in love, he expects someone like him. He does not expect to fall head over platform heels in love with the pink Lolita princess who lives in the apartment next door

Dio Morrissey was not a kind guy. He was tough and silent and a definite lone wolf. His entire aesthetic was grimoires and black and leather. He was tattooed and pierced and never smiled. He was not a good person, and he knew that. 

Yet, there was one bright spot in his otherwise shadowed life. 

His neighbor. 

You were his literal opposite. A cutesy, pastel pink, lace covered lolita. From what he could tell, you were as sweet as your wardrobe, always saying hello to everyone in the building as you headed to work. Every day seemed to be amazing for you, and you always wore a bright smile. 

Everything you did was sickeningly sweet. You were everything he told himself he hated. Pastels and colors and sunshine. 

So of course, Dio was absolutely in love with you. 

“Dio! Earth to Dio!” Raven said, waving her hand in front of his face as he watched his neighbor come into the building. “Fuck! What’s up with you?” 

Her gaze followed his, smirking when she realized what he was staring at. “Oh? Is little Dio in love?” 

“Dio’s in what?” Ace said, coming back onto the balcony with beers. “I swear you just said the L word.” 

“I did!” Raven said eagerly, kicking her feet and grinning slyly at Dio. “What’s her name?” 

“I don’t fucking know,” Dio grumbled into his beer bottle, outright lying because of course he knew your name. “And I don’t know because I’m not in love with her!” 

Raven and Ace looked at each other and both broke out into laughter. 

That night, when Dio was escorting his friends out of his apartment, the door next to his opened up.

Immediately, both Ace and Raven lit up. “Is that her?” 

Dio swore, seeing you coming out of your apartment, walking towards the elevator. Which meant you had to pass Dio and his friends. 

“Hey Dio,” you said sweetly, waving and walking past. 

Dio simply sighed, realizing exactly what was about to happen now. “Hey. Heading out?” 

You nodded, pushing the elevator button as Dio and his friends got closer. “Yeah. The local fabric barn is having a huge sale on their deadstock stuff. I wanna get out there before the sun goes down.” 

“Huh.” Dio nodded, giving Ace a death glare as he smiled. “Sounds fun.” 

“It is!” You said eagerly, adjusting your adorable lavender dress as you walked onto the elevator, followed by Dio and his friends. “I bet you could find some good stuff there. I saw a beautiful tarot card fabric last time I went.” 

Raven perked up at that. “Really?” 

“Yeah.” Just like that, you were pulling your phone out to show Raven the fabric, her immediately gushing over how nice it was. 

“If I see it there today, I’ll get you some,” you said, pocketing your phone as the elevator reached the ground floor. 

Ace and Raven waved as they left, leaving you and Dio alone outside the elevator. 

“Are you heading out too?” You asked Dio, looking curiously at him. 

“Wasn’t planning on it,” Dio grumbled, trying his best to keep his reputation intact. It was so hard not to let himself, the real him, out when talking to you. 

You smiled. “That’s okay. Have a good night Dio!” 

As you walked away, Dio battled his emotions for all of twenty seconds before running after you. “Wait!” 

“Hm?” You turned, skirt swinging and head tipping ever so slightly. “Yeah?” 

Dio stopped, suddenly hesitant. But he wasn’t the kind of guy who backed down from anything. “Can I come with you? Fabric shopping, that is.” 

Almost instantly, you lit up. “Of course! Come on!” 

You two made for a very odd pair heading down the street, Dio’s dark leather and metal studded aesthetic a complete opposite from your pastel sweets and soft ribbon look. Yet, you matched in a very odd way, like two puzzle pieces. Especially when, upon coming up on a busy crosswalk, you anxiously took his hand, almost causing poor Dio to combust. His rings were cold on your skin, but his hand itself was nice and warm. 

When you finished crossing the street, you didn’t drop Dio’s hand, merely continuing to walk with him, connected by your interlaced fingers. He didn’t tug away, despite the feeling of complete anxiety in his chest. 

Of course, the fabric shop finally showed up, and you eagerly pulled Dio inside. It was a maze, with tall shelves full of bolts of fabric and smaller shelves stacked with containers of buttons and ribbons and threads. 

“So what are you looking for?” Dio asked, looking at the employee who was staring at him. 

“I don’t know,” you said happily, heading towards the pastel fabrics. “That’s the point! I have a budget but no plan. I just wanna see what catches my eye.” 

Dio followed after you, very much like a lost puppy, as you hummed and looked over the messily stacked fabric bolts. You found a few you liked, humming as you took pictures and continued on. 

Eventually, Dio got so uncomfortable that you actually noticed. “Why don’t you go traverse the black fabrics,” you said softly, tugging on his sleeve. “See if you can find that tarot bolt I was talking about.” 

Dio gladly left the bright colors and shuffled through the dark blacks, occasionally finding something interesting. 

Eventually, you found him, a bag in hand full of fabrics. “Hey. Find anything good?” 

Dio shrugged. He had found the tarot fabric, which he showed you, and he hesitantly showed off another fabric bolt he found. It wasn’t black, but a deep navy, printed with beautiful silver stars and thin lines to create constellations. “This is nice.” 

“It is,” you agreed softly, taking the loose fabric end and smiling. “It’s very nice. Perfect dress making fabric.” 

You snapped a photo of it before walking off, Dio following you to the ribbon and lace section. You hummed to yourself, picking out a few different things. A roll of white lace, a few different ribbons in various colors and sizes, two packs of pearly white buttons. It was a hodgepodge of items, but you didn’t mind. 

“I’m gonna go have a smoke,” Dio said to you at one point. “Meet you outside.” 

“Yep.” You examined a roll of lace, looking up at Dio and smiling. “I’m almost done. Might need a few more things, but I shouldn’t be any longer than fifteen minutes.” 

Dio left, leaving you to eagerly pick out a few items for your next big project. A roll of delicate black lace, two ribbons in black and navy, a few black buttons, and the most important part. The navy constellation fabric. 

You paid for the items and left, seeing Dio waiting just outside. He put his cigarette out and began to walk beside you, instinctively grabbing your hand as you two came up on the busy crosswalk again. 

“Find everything you needed?” He finally asked, squeezing your hand to grab your attention. 

“Mhm!” You hummed happily. “And some things I didn’t, but that’s okay.” 

By the time you had reached the apartment building, it was well after dark. Dio insisted on walking you to your door, despite your laughter infused attempt to remind him that you were neighbors. 

“I’ll see you around Dio,” you said, opening your door and slipping inside. 

Dio smiled, actually smiled, at you. “Yeah. See you around.” 

You two did much more than that. Next time Raven visited Dio, she insisted upon seeing you, which meant that you were now settled upon Dio’s old ass couch, chatting away with Raven. You were a huge contrast to the entire apartment, in your pretty pink skirt with merry-go-round ponies on the bottom and the characteristic petticoat underneath it. 

Eventually, when Dio went out onto the balcony to have a cigarette, Raven turned to you, her eyes alight. “He really likes you.” 

“Dio?” You peered at the balcony, where Dio was leaning against the rail, a cigarette hanging off his lips. “He’s my neighbor.” 

Raven snorted. “Honey, that boy is head over ridiculously large platform heels in love with you.” 

Now it was your turn to make a noise of disbelief. “No he isn’t.” 

“Yeah, he is.” Raven put a hand on your knee, smiling. “Let me tell you. Dio is not a going out kind of guy. But he went on and on about your fabric shopping date for almost half an hour that night. He genuinely enjoyed it.” 

You were quiet. “He enjoyed it?” 

“Hell yeah he did!” Raven said happily. “I haven’t seen Dio that happy about being out since, well, ever.” 

Dio chose that moment to return, settling in a chair and looking between you and Raven. “What’s going on?” 

“Nothing!” Raven said, leaning back. “Hey, how’s that skirt coming along?” 

You perked up, telling Raven all about the tarot skirt you were making for her. 

“All I need to do is put the elastic in and it should be done!” You finished after a few minutes. “You can come pick it up whenever, I’ll probably finish tonight.” 

Raven promised to come get the skirt next time she visited Dio. You waved, watching her leave. 

“So,” you said, standing and adjusting your skirt. “I’ll see you soon?” 

Dio stood as well, coming over to your side. “Yeah. Soon.” 

“Perfect!” You grinned, taking his hands and looking down at them. You pressed a finger into a small tattoo he had on the back of one hand, feeling his pulse jump beneath your skin. “I’ve been meaning to go back out and grab more fabrics. Think you’ll be up for it?” 

Dio shrugged. “Sure.” 

Which was how your monthly fabric dates became a thing. The monthly outings turned quickly into weekly dates, mostly at one of your apartments. When you were alone, it was like you had a completely different Dio. He smiled, leaning across your countertops to take cookies from you. He went on and on about Ancient Greek mythology, a childlike wonder to his voice. He was touchy and cuddly and although he was definitely still the stubborn goth who lived next door, he was no longer as guarded and emotionless. By that time, you were no longer neighbors. No longer friends. Your relationship was beyond that. Not quite lovers, but not not lovers either. 

About a year after you two started to go out, Dio got super lonely one night. It was Friday, one night before date night, but he needed you. Needed to be beside you. 

He trailed over to your apartment after some consideration, knocking hesitantly. You opened the door after a few seconds, grinning brightly upon seeing Dio. “Hey Dio! What’s up?” 

Dio hesitated. You’d changed out of the frilly, baby blue dress and fluffy petticoat you’d worn to work, abandoning it for a pair of white overall shorts with a soft pink shirt underneath. Sometimes he forgot you weren’t always wearing those dresses. “Uh. Can I come in?” 

It was an odd question. Dio never asked to come in. You usually had to ask him, and even then it took some pestering. “Of course. C’mere.” 

Dio shuffled in, kicking off his boots and dropping almost two inches, making you smile. “So. What brings you to my apartment?” 

“I dunno,” Dio mumbled, standing awkwardly in your entryway. 

You smiled, coming closer and taking Dio’s hands. You slowly traced each tattoo he had, taking special interest in the one on the back of his hand, between his thumb and forefinger, as usual. “Lonely?” 

“In a way.” 

You tugged him further into the apartment. “Take your coat off Dio. I wanna show you something.” 

Dio followed you, hanging his coat up on the coat rack as he went. You pushed open the door to a spare bedroom, only it wasn’t a bedroom. It was a sewing room. 

Every inch of the room was covered in colorful fabric and delicate lace. Half finished projects littered the various surfaces, the most prominent a mess of beautiful pastel purple fabric piled up next to the sewing machine. But what caught Dio’s eye was the mostly finished dress on the dress form in the corner. 

The dress itself was darker than anything Dio had ever seen you wear. A rich royal navy studded with faded silver stars, connected by thin lines of thread to make constellations. The dress would be knee length on you, with a layer of black lace around the bottom and the characteristic petticoat underneath, also in black. You’d layered a frilly black shirt underneath the dress as well, the long sleeves and silky ribbons doing terrible things to Dio’s imagination. 

“So?” You asked hesitantly. “What do you think?”

Dio was dead silent, unable to form the thoughts into words. “Is it done?” 

“Almost,” you said, turning the dress form around and showing Dio the collection of black metal loops on the back. “I have to finish putting the loops on, then it’ll be done.” 

Dio stepped closer, running a hesitant hand over the fabric. “Is this?” 

“That fabric we found when we went shopping? Yeah.” 

Dio froze, hand still on the fabric. “I didn’t know you bought it.” 

“I did,” you said, coming up behind him, wrapping him in a hug and pressing a cheek in between his shoulder blades. “I wanted to surprise you.” 

Speechless, Dio melted into your embrace, turning around so you could tuck your head into his chest. You smiled, humming softly. “You’re a good man Dio Morrissey. I hope you know that.” 

That was the last straw. You felt Dio’s chest heave, and with a slight shock, you realized Dio was crying. 

“Oh,” you murmured, reaching up and wiping away his tears. “Oh Dio. Hey, it’s okay. Look at me, there you go. It’s okay.” 

Dio took a stuttering breath, hugging you close. “I love you,” he stammered between breaths. “I love you so fucking much.” 

You smiled, wrapping Dio in a hug and smoothing a hand up and down his back. “I love you too Dio.” 

Just like that, it became official. Your date the next day was a real date, out to the park and then dinner. You eagerly finished up the star dress, getting dressed and ready while Dio waited outside your bathroom. 

“Dio!” You called, arms aching as you let them fall to your sides. “Dio! Come here!” 

The door opened, Dio’s face poking through the crack. “Yeah?” 

“Lace me up?” You asked, showing him the back of the dress, which was shut with a zipper, but was cinched at the waist with a ribbon in a very corset-esque fashion. The only problem? You couldn’t lace it yourself. 

Dio was completely frozen in the doorway, his eyes going up and down and up and down as he processed your outfit and how you looked. It took a solid two minutes before he responded. “You look amazing.” 

“Thank you,” you said with a laugh. “Now c’mon. Don’t be afraid to squeeze me into this dress,” you said, handing Dio the silky black ribbon that matched the ones on your shirt. 

He expertly threaded the ribbon, taking his time and definitely not hesitating to pull on the ribbon to really fit the dress to you. 

“Thanks!” You said once he was done, turning to the makeup scattered across the bathroom. “Now. The fun part.” 

Dio watched with pure curiosity as you put your makeup on. It was all okay until the colorful stuff, at which point he stopped you before you made a horrible mistake. 

“How about I do this part?” He said, taking the brush and tapping the excess powder into the sink. “Close your eyes.” 

You did as he asked, giggling when he took your face with one hand to steady you. “God your hands are huge.” 

Dio smiled. “Mhm. And yours aren’t.” 

More laughter echoed through the bathroom, and Dio paused in the makeup so you could laugh. 

“Okay,” you said, finally straightening. “We’re gonna be late. Let’s hurry up.” 

Ten minutes later, Dio had perfected your makeup, and you loved it. Lacing up your black shoes and adjusting your black socks, you looped an arm with Dio’s and walked towards the elevator together. 

“So,” you finally said once you two had reached the park. “Dio Morrissey. The biggest, baddest boy on the block, has fallen in love with the resident princess. How the hell does that happen?” 

Dio shrugged, putting an arm around you. “I dunno. But I’m glad it did.”

[bleedingvengnce]

Life’s More Fun When You’re High | JJ Maybank

Summary: You’re a Kook wanting to see what it’s like to break the rules, and JJ knows exactly how to do that.

Pairing: JJ Maybank x Reader

Warnings: Drug use, swearing, and smut;)

A/N: I miss smoking, and oh god, what I would give to get high with JJ, holy shit.

Growing up in the Figure Eight, you were taught to be the prissy posh girl every Kook is supposed to be. Dress nice, use intelligent vocabulary, achieve the highest grades, don’t get into trouble, and especially don’t get involved with Pogues. You were pristine, pure, innocent. Your life was filled with your studies, volleyball practice directly afterwards, time spent with family, organizing volunteering projects, boating, and very little else. It was boring. Or, a better word, mundane. Your daily routine held nothing new, nothing excited, and you craved more. You craved adrenaline, exhilaration, and most of all, you were just desperate for your life to be different. To be anything than the girl you are, in the average family of yours, in the dull place you lived. To be a Pogue.

Each and ever person you knew in the Figure Eight despised those who lived in the Cut. They were looked down upon, as though their lives meant less than the Kooks. You were born hating them. But you, you didn’t hate them because they were below you, but you despised the freedoms they held. Oh the fun they have. They broke the rules so much, it was as though they don’t have any to begin with. And maybe they don’t. Maybe they do whatever the hell they want, whenever the hell they want. Oh god, how much you wanted that. What you would do to be able to experience Pogue life just once. 

Well, what you would do is seek out a Pogue to help you with your wants and desires. And that Pogue was JJ Maybank. Honestly, you don’t know why your choice was JJ. You could’ve picked from the sweet John B, who worked for your close friends the Cameron’s, the intelligent Pope who once tutored you ages ago, or literally any other Pogue that existed. Maybe it was because he was the most reckless of them all. Or maybe it was because you held a massive school girl crush on the blonde haired boy since the first time your eyes laid upon him.

So, after miraculously getting his phone number from asking around, you rung him up, putting on the sweetest voice you could muster as you practically begged for him to scoop you up from your perfect little life and take you to the Cut, to a place where you could finally experience life. He was, shocked, to say the least, not expecting to hear the Kook princess on the other end asking for him to pick her up from her pretty Kook house. But, he did. He didn’t know why. He loathed the Kooks, and everything about them. He hated their privileged attitudes, their clean cut clothes, and the money that each and everyone of them seemed to be swimming in. He wanted nothing to do with any of them, so why was he so eager to hop in the Pogue van and venture to that side of the island. Maybe it was the massive school boy crush on the beautiful girl since the first time he laid eyes on you.

Your phone chimed harshly, echoing throughout your barren room, the screen alit against the pressing darkness. 

‘Here’ Was splayed across the luminescent screen. 

You let out a shaky breath, your gaze now cast towards the window in you room, wide and agape, calling for you to leap out of it, and into the arms of freedom. You could see the sickly moon hanging lazily in the inky sky, signaling the late hours of the night. You didn’t want to have to deal with an interrogation from you parents as to where you were going, what were you doing, who were you going with, and much more. You just wanted to escape easily and effortlessly into the welcoming night air. And so you did. 

“You can do this, Y/N,” You whispered, reassuring yourself as you approached the window, hands placed on the window sill as your head dove out and into the breezy, open air. 

Here goes nothing. And then, you leaped out of it, bare feet hitting the dirt covered ground. In this moment, you were thankful for living on the first floor of your enormous house. You turned away from the comforting clutches of your home, trekking to JJ’s vehicle that hummed mechanically nearby. It was a worn down rusted metal van. You could see the familiar glint of blonde hair through the window as you padded closer, hand wrapping around the door handle to swing it open.

“Jesus, what took you so long?” The boy questioned, not even letting you get situated inside before he began berating you.

“I had to make sure everyone asleep first,” You retorted, pulling the seatbelt across your body as you relaxed into the cloth covered seat.

You could see the boy placed in the drivers seat shake his head slightly as the van lurched forward, sputtering along the road now. You tucked your trembling hands under neath your thighs, an awkward silence hovering over the two of you.

“So, where are we going?” You attempted to cut the heavy tension, gaze fluttering to the soundless boy beside you.

“Somewhere,” Was all he uttered out vaguely, his eyes focused on the dim road.

“Ok... What are we going to do?” You didn’t like the unpleasant quiet, preferring to just interrogate the poor boy instead.

“Well you’re just full of questions, aren’t you?” JJ peered over at you briefly, taking in your figure.

You were adorned in unusual attire, clad in an oversized graphic tee and heather grey soffe shorts underneath, contrasting your usual well ironed and expensive clothes. You were a Pogue tonight, so you decided it would best if you looked the part as well. JJ adored this very of you much more than your normal Kook garments.

“We’re here,” His words shook you from your thoughts, noting the abandoned lot the van was now placed in, your eyes gazing out upon the rolling dunes that caressed the vision of the ocean.

“So, what is it exactly that we are going to do here?” You cocked your head as you turned your stare towards him, wondering what he had in store for the two of you.

“Hop in the back and you’ll find out.” He gestured towards the back of the van, motioning for you to scale the middle console into the open space.

“Ladies first, go on.” He attempted to hurry you along, you looking at him incredulously before uttering an annoyed, ‘fine’.

You clumsily leaned over the console, hauling yourself over it with not a single ounce of grace as you tumbled onto the floor of the back of the van. JJ couldn’t help the gaze that was glued to your ass thrown in his face as you climbed into the back. After you finally situated yourself on the floor, JJ managed getting into the back with ease, making your face flush with embarrassment at how klutzy you appeared to be.

“Since you left me in ramblings on the phone, you are going to have to go with what I prepared, alright?” JJ sat criss cross apple sauce on a tossed out blanket he must’ve previously placed down for the two of you.

“Ok.” You lifted your shoulders in a small shrug, not knowing what you were agreeing to in that moment but being completely open to the experience you were about to receive from this beautiful blonde boy.

“Good,” He nodded, snatching out a small metal contained from behind him.

He cracked it open, pulling out a couple glass looking devices, a couple pre-rolled cigarettes of sorts, and lastly to be set in front of you was a plastic bag with green vegetation captured inside.

“Weed?” You squeaked out at the sight of the illicit drug placed between the two of you. 

“Yes, Y/N. Weed.” He confirmed.

“I was more thinking something like a shot of alcohol, or something, not illegal drugs!” You could barely bring yourself to say the word, gulping at the sight of it before you, only ever seeing it in pictures. 

“Oh, relax. Weed isn’t like hard drugs like coke or molly. It’s basically legalized in the U.S. Plus, life is so much more fun when you’re high.” He tossed a wink in your direction, trying to ease some of the anxiety you’re holding with a joke.

After a moment of consideration, you tilted your head down in a nod, convincing yourself that this is exactly what you wanted. To break the rules and have fun.

“Ok, ok, fine. So, what is all of this.” Your eyes flickered through each thing sat in front of you.

“Well, I’m going to give you a crash course in all things weed, which is my favorite topic of all, other than surfing of course. So this,” he grabbed at the bag, “is obviously weed. There are two strains of weed, Indica and Sativa. Indica is more of a relaxing high while Sativa is more energizing and can produce anxious and bad highs. So what I have is Indica because that’s my personal preference.” He shrugs, tossing the plastic bag to the floor before snatching up the glass things.

“These are pieces I have for smoking. You grind up the weed and place them in this little pocket, light it with a lighter, and inhale. All I have are a pipe and bowl, not a whole lot else with the money I make.” He set the delicate glass pieces down on the floor before picking up the final thing.

“And this is a joint, which is different from a blunt. Blunts are usually rolled with tobacco and use cigar or cigarillo papers to wrap them. I don’t like anything to do with tobacco, that’s why I roll joints and use this really nice rice paper from my dealer to roll them with. These are prime.” He winks, hoping he isn’t overloading your innocent brain with information.

“Obviously, there are more ways to get high off of weed. Edibles, bongs, even masks, which I won’t overwhelm you with today.” He grins, proud of himself at the way he is so intelligent in one area of his life that he can teach someone else, that someone being you. 

“Tonight, we will keep it simple with the joints. Just like a cigarette, light the end,” He flicked open his sliver lighter, a flame emanating off of the top as he flicked it to life, “Then you inhale through the joint. Next is the most important part. You need to inhale an extra breath of air after you pull the joint away, ok? Or else you won’t get the smoke into your lungs and you won’t get high. Just watch me.”

JJ brought the alit flame to the end of the joint, it hanging loosely from his bottom lip. The little flame licked around the paper, alighting it in small embers. You could tell when JJ inhaled a gulp of the drug filled smoke, watching the embers at the end illuminate. He then pulled the joint away from his mouth, inhaling a tiny extra breath, holding the smoke contained in his lungs momentary, before exhaling. The tendrils of smoke floated heavily in the air around them, the smell pungent in your nostrils.

“Alright, princess, it’s your turn.” The little cylinder was held in your direction, the petite thing seeming so monstrous in your eyes.

You carefully pinched the joint between the tips of your fingers, as though it would harm you if you weren’t cautious with it. You swallowed down a shaky breath, desperately attempting to settle your stumbling heart. You held it up to your lips, setting it in your mouth. Your gaze was down cast on the drug filled cigarette and intently watching the smoldering end of the joint illuminate as you sucked in. You felt the smoke spilling down your throat, wrapping around in your lungs while it burned uncomfortably. You attempted to sip another breath of the musty air, but the scorching fumes from the drug stung your throat causing you to let out a string of painful coughs. You could hear JJ chuckling at your hacking figure, tears threatening to escape from your lids at the burning sensation in your lungs. You sputtered out, JJ placing a plastic water bottle in your hands to soothe your tender throat. The cold water aided in subsided in the burn, blinking back the tears in your eyes as you looked at the giggling boy.

“That wasn’t funny,” You rasped, “Why didn’t you tell me it would burn like that?” You gave the joint back to him, glowering in his direction. 

“It was pretty funny, just relax, Y/N. Enjoy the high.” He hushed, taking another lengthy drag.

You went back and forth a couple of times, still being tossed back into a fit of wheezing and coughing, but enjoying the way the world began to be enveloped in a lulling haze. You didn’t realize it at first, but your eye lids began weighing heavily, feeling your tensed shoulders fall. Though, you couldn’t help but notice the way your muscles uncomfortably seized up. Your thighs involuntarily twitched repeatedly, furrowing your brows in confusion.

“JJ, why am I twitching?” You cocked your head to the side as you eyed the handsome boy in front of you.

“I dunno, happens sometimes. I used to get the shakes all of the time when I first started smoking.” His shoulders rose and fell in a shrug.

You felt your head roll back, enjoying the tranquility flooding your system, the rate of your heart steadily slowing as you inhaled a deep breath of the mildew and weed hanging heavily in the air of the van.

“Being high does feel nice.” You hummed with a grin, eyes closed as you swayed slightly, relishing in the peaceful feeling at the weed tangling through your bloodstream.

“I told you.” JJ laughed, uncontrollable giggles escaping the two of you at the nonsensical situation the two of you were placed in.

A Kook and a Pogue, getting high as a kite in the back of an old van. Who would’ve thought.

“Is it weird that I’ve never gotten high before?” You pondered absent-mindedly, attempting not to peer over at JJ too often for him to notice your bizarre stares.

“Kinda, yeah. What else have you not done before?” He lazily turned his head to the side, flickering the flame from his lighter.

“Haven’t drank. I don’t even think I’ve ever had a sip of my parents drinks before.” A chuckle sputtered out of your mouth at how ridiculous that sounded actually being uttered.

“Holy shit. Have you even been to a party before?” He was adjusting himself to sit up straight, gazing at you intently for a response.

You shook your head, unable to look into the surprised eyes of the boy at how innocent you were. Though, the usual crimson heat would be rushing onto your cheeks in embarrassment at the questions, the high was muddling your mind. It let the interrogation roll off your shoulders as though it wasn’t as important or as humiliating as you usually look at your boring life.

“I’ve literally done nothing before, JJ. My life is so ungodly dull. I almost went insane at how boring it is. That’s why I asked this of you.” You confessed openly, the high loosening your usually tight lips.

“Wow, I’m glad I’m the one to make you lose your weed virginity then.” A grin spread across his pretty lips, your eyes glued to them unintentionally.

JJ definitely noticed.

“Have you...” He trailed off, his gaze trickling down and away from your eyes, the words struggling on the tip of his tongue.

“Have I?” You dragged out, motioning for him to continue.

“Have you ever had sex before?” This time he spoke with more confidence in his words, his stare returning to intimidatingly hold yours as he struck your most coveted secret about yourself.

“No...” Your tongue darted out to flicker over your lips, eyes unmoving from his piercing blue ones.

JJ tilted his head down in a leisurely nod, as though he was mulling over his pooling thoughts after your bold response. The haze that hung over your mind began to clear, your skin noticing the nearness of how close the two of you sat in your criss cross positions, knees practically grazing against one another’s.

“Have you ever had an orgasm before?” He almost looked concerned at just the thought of you never being plunged into that world of pleasure before.

“Never. I, uh, I’ve never really touched myself down there.” Your words were shaky as he studied you.

“Would you let me?” A storm of lust was clouding his baby blue eyes, his gaze becoming hungry at the thought of him being the first one to touch you in that way.

Your mouth ran dry at his words, but you didn’t even need to mull over the offer, instantly coming to your decision.

“Yes,” You breathed, chest rising and falling in wracked breaths.

His hand cautiously lifted from the confines of his lap, calloused finger tips brushing gently over your thigh. You caught your bottom lips between your teeth at the feeling of a man touching you for the first time. Your gaze fluttered between his cobalt irises and his delicious lips you craved to have pressed against your own. He gratefully took the hint, leaning his body forward towards yours. You felt his warm breath fanning across your face, his lips feeling miles apart, but also being closer than any person’s before. Your body and mind were engulfed by his delicious scent that surrounded him, a musk of marijuana and salty ocean. You tilted your head up, trying to close the gaping distance between the two of you, but he pulled back, a smirk quirking on the edges of his lips as he teased you. 

“Jay...” You sighed, yearning for him.

He didn’t to hear anything more, tilting his head down as he delicately placed his plush lips upon your own. You felt your world crack open, as though your mundane life crumbled around you, tumbling away to live you unconfined, liberated, and new. The kiss was light, fleeting, a passing moment that you were desperate to capture forever. You never wanted it to end. So, you didn’t allow it to, pressing your lips harder against his as your head tipped to the side. You brought a hand up, fingers entangling in his mussed golden locks, tugging softly on it. JJ gingerly dipped his tongue into your mouth, sweeping around inside to memorize the taste of you, your tongues colliding together in a messier kiss. The kiss was progressively becoming more passionate, his hands that were previously cupping your face moving down to rest on your hips. The boy leaned your body back, the two of you now laying along the floor of the van, JJ hovering his body over you as your lips never parted. 

You could feel the tips of JJ’s fingers skim along your now exposed flesh below the hem of your shirt, and you melted at his electrifying touch. Goosebumps skittered against your skin in the wake of his touch, and you exhaled a breathy moan into the kiss. You could feel him grip the bottom of your shirt as he pulled away from the mind muddling kiss.

“Can I take this off?” His parted lips were swollen after the intensity of the kiss, looking down at you with lust and desperation.

“Yes, please.” You allowed, holding your hands over your head to aid him in discarding the fabric.

You were plunged into the moment, but still were anxious at the boy seeing your exposed skin. You bra soon followed your shirt as JJ tossed it behind him. Your hands that were running along his body flew to cover your chest, a rosy pinks dusting your cheeks in embarrassment. 

“Don’t do that. Let me see you, princess.” That stupid nickname rolled off his tongue as he eased your hands back to your sides, revealing your hardened nipples standing at attention for him and only him.

“Oh baby, you’re so beautiful.” He hummed, a hand reaching up to gently cup one of your breasts, thumb flickering over your nipple.

The gesture sent shivers of pleasure down to your core, feeling a wetness slowly soaking your underwear. You couldn’t help the gasps tumbling from your lips as he delicately pinched and flicked at your nipples, his eyes looking on in awe at how responsive you were becoming at the simplest of touches.

“How does that feel, princess?” He arched a brow as he gazed upon your squirming figure, twisting a nipple between his thumb and pointer finger.

“R-really good,” You stumbled over your words, intently watching his skilled fingers on your breasts.

“Good. But I bet I can make you feel even better.” He shot you a playful wink as his fingers danced their way down your abdomen, anticipation tormenting your body.

He began to trace along the waistband of your shorts, teasing your skin with delicate and pleasurable touches. He pressed a small kiss to your knee as he settled himself between your legs. The next thing to go were your shorts and underwear, leaving your bare and naked before him, your skin exposed for him to drink in your beautiful figure. 

“Fuck,” He muttered, eyes glued to your dripping center.

You were anxious, laying there for his viewing and touching pleasure. Your pussy was open for him to admire, and you were scared that he would be repulsed by it as you were, not knowing the depths of what it held and how much pleasure could come from it. JJ, on the other hand, craved to devour you, hunger pooling in his irises. He wanted to please you, to show you how good, no, how amazing it feels to be touched on your most delicate of places.

“Is this ok?” His voice was soft, a sweetness threading through it as he looked for your permission before he went further with anything.

He wanted to make sure you were comfortable with what he was doing, what he was toughing on your untouched body. But you didn’t care, your caution being tossed carelessly to the wind as you eagerly nodded. With your nod, he began pressing tiny pecks against the inside of your thighs, hands pressing them against the floor of the van to keep you in place. You were beyond desperate, the sparks from the kisses shooting straight to your core, moans tumbling past your lips. He mouthed his way up your flesh, passing directly over where you were throbbing for him.

“JJ, please.” You pleaded with the boy as the tiny kisses continued to ensue, your pussy dripping, wanting for him to touch more than just your thighs.

“Please what, princess?” He breathed against your thigh, his eyes capturing your own as you stared down at him.

“Please do something!” You were becoming increasingly frustrated with his ministrations, wanting his mouth elsewhere.

“Something like me touching your pussy? Like my fingers inside of you? Like my mouth on you? Is that what you want?” He spilled out every single thought your mind was thinking, wanting all of what he said and more.

“That’s exactly what I want, J.” You rushed out, begging for him to do exactly as he promised.

And that he did. You felt his finger, for the first time, drag through your slit, catching on a sensitive part of yourself down there. You flinched, hips twitching in the air at the tingling sensation dancing through your body at the touch. You watched as a smirk formed on the boys’ lips in satisfaction at your response, his finger repeating the motion, this time focusing on that overly sensitive nub, rubbing on it lightly. He more than enjoyed watching you fall apart beneath the most simple touch. He loved that he was the first one exploring your body like this. He wanted to do this over and over again, but right now, he had to focus in pleasuring you now. Small figure eights were being traced on the pleasurable button, moans and cries spilling from your mouth as you watched on in awe.

“Damn baby, you’re so fucking wet for me.” He practically growled out, his finger circling your hole before slowly, gently, carefully pressing the digit within you. 

You stretched around him, graciously taking him inside of you as he leaned his head forward to add more than just his finger. His tongue swiped between your pussy lips, the tip of it focusing on that electrifying part of you that caused your back to arch and your eyes to roll into the back of your head. His lips wrapped around it, carefully sucking on it as his fingers crooked upwards, hitting a spot that made your mind tumble into numbness and a small scream to escape you. The pleasure was almost unbearable. He continued, fingers picking up speed inside of you, constantly brushing against that spot within you. Your face was creased, mouth agape in an extended groan. Your fingers found their way back into his hair, harshly pulling on it as he lapped at your dripping cunt. 

“You taste so delicious, princess. You’re doing so good for me.” He hummed against your core.

You were a complete and utter mess, grinding your face against his mouth, chasing a high you didn’t know what it would lead to. You’ve never tumbled over the edge before, never even coming close to it, but JJ was shoving you there, fingers ramming into you and mouth harshly sucking on your clit. 

“Come on baby, I know your close, cum for me.” He ordered for you to do so before returning to his previous spot.

His words and ministrations shoved you over the edge, reaching a screaming climax as his fingers let your ride out your high. Your chest heaved, legs twitching slightly as his tongue still sloppily traced around your clit. You were practically seeing stars at the overly intense pleasure he just caused, your pussy and clit overly sensitive, you had to push the boys’ head away.

“How was that, princess?” He questioned with his puffy and swollen lips.

“So good.” You breathed, barely able to form a coherent sentence as he gathered you into his arms, allowing you to come down from your world crumbling orgasm he just gave you.

“I’m glad. I want to always make you feel like that.” His words caused your breathing to halt, the confession making your heart stumble over itself and butterflies to brush along your stomach.

“Really?” You gazed at him as his hands clutched at you tighter.

“Yes, and I want to do more than that. More than get you high and do what we just did. I want to take you out.” He attempted to come across as the confident and cocky JJ he normally appeared to be, but right now, nerves racked his body.

“I would love to go out with you JJ, even if you are a Pogue.” You giggled lightly, causing him to roll his eyes in response before he captured you in another knee weakening kiss.

[imagine-loki]

Threats and Collateral

TITLE: Threats and Collateral CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: One-Shot  AUTHOR:  wolfpawn

ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki’s reaction to his SO being brought in to the TVA as a way to control him.

RATING: General Audience NOTES/WARNINGS: None

Loki scowled at the contraption around his neck, limiting his power. Looking around the containment area, there were many creatures and beings with similar around their own necks. Since being captured by the TVA, he had been stripped of his armoured clothes and placed in grotesque and frankly uncomfortable attire and given food that he assumed the palace hounds would turn their noses up at.

He was yet to be spoken to by anyone of notable seniority as to what was the counts of which he was being held. They mentioned him altering the timeline but nothing more. He had to wait until he had a trial to know what was going to happen. Or so he thought.

Loki never liked being manhandled, as most beings tended not to, but being grabbed and forcibly handcuffed made him eye those around him carefully. The guards that did so, did it quickly while another man stood back and watched studiously which brought Loki’s attention to him. There was no manner to age the man in front of him, not with where he was, so there was no telling if he could defeat him or not in hand-to-hand combat, though being handcuffed and collared also was to his disadvantage.

“Follow me.”

That was all the man said before turning to walk towards one of the elevators that dotted the walls of the room Loki was in. He had known better than to attempt to go near one before, the singed clothing and black burns on the floor and the unconscious what he assumed to be corpses of different beings telling him to do so without authorisation was not to be recommended.

Though he did not trust the official of the TVA, Loki knew that whatever they wanted, they had no reason to burn him as they would not be so dim as to do so in such a fashion, ergo, he followed sceptically. Passing through the white line on the floor without being harmed and into the metal contraption to bring him to Norns’ knows where in the building.

“I am Mobius M Mobius and you, are Loki.”

“You heard of me, I’m honoured?” Loki eyed him carefully.

“Do you know where I am taking you?”

“You’re taking me somewhere to kill me.”

“No, I’m taking you some place to talk.”

“Well, I don’t like to talk.”

“But you do like to lie, which you just did. Because we both know you love to talk. Talkie talkie.”

Loki eyed the man with utter disgust at the juvenile and irritating manner in which he spoke.

The elevator came to a halt and the doors opened, bringing the two men to a room bare of all objects bar a table, two chairs on opposite sides of it and some stationary equipment.

Mobius indicated for Loki to sit at one side while he sat on the opposite side. “This is the TVA.”

“I know exactly what this place is.” Loki interrupted. “The Time Keepers have built quiet the circus and I see that the clowns are playing their parts to perfection.” “Big metaphor guy. I love it. It makes you sound smart.” “I am smart.” “I know.” “Okay.”

“Okay.” “What do you want from me?”

Mobius replayed the footage of Loki taking the Tesseract and explained how that was not the original timeline and then showed him what his actual timeline was, the events on Asgard with the Aether and the Dark Elves, him taking the throne under the guise of Odin, Odin’s death, the return of Hela, the destruction of Asgard and finally, the less than comfortable scene were Thanos choked him and snapped his neck in one fell swoop. With an unconscious rubbing of his throat, he looked at the agent across from him. “And you want me to help you because?”

“We need your unique Loki perspective.”

“I don’t believe you.” Loki shook his head slightly. “I don’t think you believe anyone. This Loki variant needs to be fixed.”

“But why is it the Loki variant when those misfit Midgardians clearly are the ones that altered time. How was I supposed to know that what I did was altering time when they were the ones altering it?” Loki pointed out. “The breaking of reality was not my doing, but theirs, have them fix it.” “But you don’t want us to do that, not really. Because if we did that, you would have to be imprisoned indefinitely as you are not the true timeline Loki and you know that you will face a less than pleasant end soon. But if you help us, you get to use all these traits you love so dearly to actually do something and not be destroyed. “ “What happens if I help you and fix all of this, let me guess, you’ll imprison me then?” “No, then you will be offered to stay here and work for us and fix mess after mess for…well, who knows how long. Time works a little differently here.”

“So, I help you, I‘m free to work for you, I don’t help you, I sit in uncomfortable clothes waiting to die of old age, which, if I am correct, may never actually happen here?” Loki checked.

“Something to that effect.” Loki thought over his options. “I am not interested.” “I thought you might say that.” Mobius activated his computer screen and clicked on buttons. With how he was doing it, Loki was suspicious that he was not actually typing anything at all but pretending to do so to try and get Loki to change his mind. But after a few moments, the elevator door behind them rung out and opened.

At first, Loki did not care enough to turn around. He suspected it was either someone to forcibly get him to comply, in which case, the ignoring served its purpose of not acknowledging such or it was guards to bring him to holding once more or to his new prison cell, which again, he did not care to acknowledge. But then, he felt the urge to look, especially when he sensed someone looking at him. When he turned, his eyes widened. “What?” He tried to rise from his seat but was pushed back down by a guard that seemed to just appear beside him. He glared angrily at Mobius. “How?” “We knew there was a high probability you would say no, we really needed you to say yes, so we brought a little incentive here for you,” Mobius explained. “I have studied practically every moment of your life. There is one single being in the universe you will willingly do anything for.” He pointed behind Loki. “Your adoptive parents, your adopted brother, sure, you’ll do stuff for them, when it suits. You used to be far more compliant, but then you grew up and realised your brother mattered more. You killed your biological father but her…you would do anything for her, wouldn’t you?” “No.” Both answered immediately.

Mobius looked at them both as sat back slightly before pointing to Loki. “He’s the better liar.” “I told him not to do anything stupid and he thwarted that coronation and literally did the most stupid thing possible letting go at the Bifrost, so no, he would not do anything for me.” She glared over at Loki who looked at the table shamefully.

“Yes, there’s enough time for domestic arguments at a later point, but we really need to get started on this.” Mobius focused on the matter at hand again.

“Wait, isn’t bringing her here altering the timeline even more so?” Loki pointed out. “I feel as though there’s a significant case of double-standards going on here.”

“It’s not really affecting the timeline because the timeline is already altered,” Mobius explained boredly.

“How could it possibly not be affecting the timeline when having her being here instead of being where she would actually be is affecting the timeline?” “Because she is integral to getting you to fix the timeline,” Mobius argued. “But she was doing something when you took her, now that is not going to get done and that affects the timeline.” Loki countered.

“We need her here to get you to say yes so you fix the timeline you broke, ergo, she fits this timeline.”

“Wait, I am here because Loki broke a timeline so to fix the timeline he broke, we have to break the one I was in?” She clarified.

“I didn’t break it,” Loki explained. “Thor and his Midgardian friends went back in time because they wanted to change the future but I touched something I was not supposed to touch while they were doing that because their attempts to get it went awry because they are idiots, so technically, they broke the timeline and I am being forced to fix it because it apparently my touching the Tesseract goes against TVA rules but them going back in time and altering the whole future does not.”

“By breaking the timeline I was on, which in itself is a breach of these rules?” She asked in disbelief.

“Exactly,” Loki confirmed.

“No,” Mobius stated a mere nanosecond after.

“It seems like it to me.” She looked at Loki for confirmation. “Me too.” Loki concurred.

“Well, it’s not.” Both looked at Mobius sceptically. “So, you help us and everyone is happy.” Mobius clapped his hands together. “So, let’s get you started as an agent.” Mobius pressed a button and Loki fell through a portal in the floor. Mobius rose to his feet and straightened his jacket boredly. “These men will bring you to the guest rooms.” “I think I rather do something while I wait.” “I don’t think so.” “I wasn’t asking.” She gave a smile that said she would not be dissuaded. “This is a big place, I am sure you can find somewhere for me and good luck trying to control him.” She laughed before walking out of the room.

Mobius sighed. “I immediately regret this decision.” He rose to his feet and went into the elevator. After a few minutes, the doors opened to show Loki looking at him in a shirt, tie, jacket and pants. “That better?”

“It will suffice.” Loki walked in and stood next to him.

Mobius remained looking forward as the elevator moved again. “I just need to grab a few things, and we will begin.”

Loki said nothing in response.

Mobius walked out of the elevator and the door remained open until his return a minute later, in entirely different attire and looking almost as though he had showered. He fiddled with his tie as he walked back in.

“I have to say,” Loki stepped towards him and centred his tie as he spoke. “I think it’s adorable that you think you can manipulate me. I am ten steps ahead of you.” “Is that right?” Mobius barely had a hint of curiosity in his voice. “Oh, it is.” Loki sneered. “Nor can she. Though, I am curious, where is she?” “Gone to dictate to whoever is stuck dealing with her.” Mobius looked straight ahead. “She will be fine.” “She had better, or else,” Loki snarled. “Or else what?” Mobius glanced sideways, no emotion in his voice.

“Or else I am going to burn this place to the ground,” Loki swore with a smile.

[aceofspadegrass]

Blueberry Pancakes Taste Great

Characters: Tatta Koudai, Niragi Suguru, Chishiya Shuntaro.

Genre: Fluff. Tatta is making pancakes. And eats them. :D

1.5k words

Tatta is allowed to vibe. He deserves it.

It was a normal day, people going around and doing whatever they pleased within the Beach, drinking and partying away their woes and stress. This even included Tatta, who was wandering around looking for something to do. Of course, he could have always tried to go find Arisu, or perhaps hang out with some of the people he befriended there at the Beach, but Arisu was busy doing something and he didn’t feel like finding anyone else at the moment.

He passes by the kitchen, and he glances at the door, his tummy lightly grumbling. It couldn’t hurt to make himself something to eat, could it?

Tatta smiles to himself, and he heads inside, quickly going to the pantries and fridge to see what they had. It was decently stocked, but of course it had to be, people needed to eat, and nothing gets people more than starvation. He pulls out a bottle of instant pancake mix, the kind that only needed water to activate and a good shake. “ Yeah, this should work.” Tatta says to himself, and he goes to grab a bottle of water. Opening the pancake bottle, he pours in the needed amount of water, then snaps the pancake bottle shut. He makes sure the bottle was completely sealed to avoid making a huge mess, and with a satisfied hum, he starts shaking it like he was trying to get the last few spurts of ketchup out of the bottle.

It takes him a few minutes, but finally Tatta fed satisfied that it was shaken up enough, setting it down as he glances to the stove. Which he quickly realized that he hadn’t even touched yet. “ Oh- I forgot to turn it on- And grab a pan!” He chuckles to himself for this minor mistake, and goes to grab a decent and clean pan, setting it over the stove. He switches it on, the stove clicking and then bursting to life, and Tatta waits patiently until the pan was heated up enough.

In the meantime, he putters around the kitchen in search of any toppings. He finds a carton of blueberries that looked okay, and he beams widely, setting them down next to the pancake bottle. “ Blueberry pancakes it is!” He chirps, and he goes back to looking around for other things.

In the end, he finds some honey, which was a treat in of itself, Tatta setting the bear shaped container down on the countertop. He goes back to the pan and hovers his hand over the metal. It radiated heat, and Tatta turns down the heat a little so he wouldn’t accidentally burn his pancake mix. He quickly grabs a plate for easier transfer, and with the pancake bottle in one hand and a spatula in the other, he was ready for pancake making.

The process itself was easy: Tip the nozzle over the pan and squeeze a pancake amount of pancake, quickly drop a few blueberries in before it cooks too long, then flip. Repetitive and easy to follow, and a little fun as well. Tatta was absolutely vibing to himself making several pancakes, and even switched it up with a few plain ones. They were still beautiful as the ones with the blue decor.

Finally, the bottle ran dry, and Tatta had a rather decent size of pancakes cheerfully settled on the plate, Tatta shutting off the oven and smiling to himself, his tummy grumbling in anticipation.

He leaves the pan on the stove, but does dump the spatula into the sink to clean up later. As much as he wanted to clean it *now*, he figured it’d be easier to clean up after he finished his pancakes. Maybe someone else may come and eventually clean it, which was equally as okay, although Tatta felt a little bad having a mess for someone else to take care of.

But right now, he was ready for some pancakes. He grabs the bottle of honey and pops open the cap, tilting it over the pancakes. The honey was slow, almost tantalizing and teasing as it fell from the head of the bear, until finally it hit the pancakes, Tatta swaying the bottle back and forth to get a nice and succulent drizzle. It took multiple swipes and Tatta getting a little distracted by how good it looked before he was satisfied and put away the honey bottle, picking up his masterpiece of pancakes with honey drizzle.

Tatta grabs a fork and ends leaves the kitchen, deciding to stroll a little while he ate. It wasn’t bad, the pancakes cooked perfectly and tasting absolutely delicious for some instant mix. The blueberries gave the right pop of extra flavour, and the sweetness of the honey made Tatta smile happily as he wandered through the Beach with his pancakes.

Suprisingly, not a lot of people were inside the building, the majority likely outside or at the more ‘fun’ areas, so Tatta got to have a peaceful stroll through the Beach. Somehow, he ends up near the upper levels, where he could see the lobby below, but he continues to consume his pancakes.

Now, as he did, he spots a familiar dark shirt coming from the other end of the hall, and he makes sure to not attract the attention of the other man, but unfortunately for him, he was spotted, and suddenly a hand was on his shoulder, Tatta looking up to Niragi smirking at him.

“ Now what the hell are you doing, eh?” Niragi asks, Tatta smiling and slightly lifting the plate of pancakes as if to show the other man. “ Eating pancakes. They’re actually pretty good!” Tatta tells him with a smile, hoping that he wouldn’t get on Niragi’s nerve enough for him to use that rifle the other always carried.

Niragi looks down at the plate, and scoffs, glancing up at Tatta again. “ Oh yeah? And wandering around so aimlessly? Weirdo.” Tatta just continues to smile at Niragi, and cuts a little of the pancake, taking a bite. Niragi just continues to stare, then scoffs again, backing up and looking at the shorter male. “ And is it good?” Tatta nods, and takes another bite, chewing casually. It was very much good. Niragi looks down at the pancakes again, and raises an eyebrow.

“ Why the fuck are you eating it like that.” “ Eating it like what?” Niragi points to the pancake. “ You’re cutting from the top layer to the bottom and leaving the lower sections whole. What the fuck kind of person eats pancakes like that?” Tatta looks down at the pancakes, then shrugs. “ I mean, they’re pancakes, and some of them are blueberry, see? So I’m not really missing a lot if I eat them however I want. The top has honey, but some are on the side so I can always mop those up-“ A hand pushes against his shoulder, and Tatta stumbles back, Niragi sneering at him.

“ Shut up, you’re making me bored just listening to you. Anyways, give me one.” Tatta blinks. What did he say? Give him a pancake? Niragi just stares expectantly, and Tatta unfreezes, nodding. “ Uh, yeah, I guess I can go mane some more-“ Niragi scowls, and takes a step closer, Tatta instinctively taking a step back. “ Do you have cotton in your ears, hat boy? I said give me a pancake.” “ H-huh? Like….. from the plate?” Niragi nods slowly as if Tatta was dumb, staring directly at him. Tatta couldn’t help but be a little curious though, asking why. That earns him an eye roll from Niragi. “ Just hand one over before I get pissed off.” Niragi orders, and Tatta quickly nods, not wanting to get hurt because of some pancakes. So he ends up handing the entire plate over, and Niragi takes Tatta’s fork and flips off the layer Tatta was eating off of, and quite literally peels off the next layer, smirking to himself like something was funny. To Tatta’s surprise, Niragi actually put the other half-eaten layer back on to the stack, and even if the honey kind of got even more on the plate, it was still pretty fine, Niragi handing the plate and fork back to Tatta. He starts to walk away with the sole pancake in his hand, Tatta watching him leave.*

“ Uh, what are you….” Tatta didn’t get to finish as Niragi looks over the edge, smiling down at something.

“ Hey! Wet boiled egg bitch, up here!” Niragi shouts with a hint of laughter in his voice. Tatta takes a bite of pancake, but he leans over out of a simple curiosity. Below them was that Chishiya guy, Tatta recognizing him from the tag game he played once.

He couldn’t hear anything, but Chishiya did look up, and Niragi throws the pancake, which lands directly on Chishiya’s face, who stands there practically frozen as Niragi runs away laughing manically and saying something about how stupid he looked. Tatta blinks in mild confusion and just quietly eats another pierce of pancake goodness as Chishiya slowly removes the pancake from his face, taking a bite and walking away. Tatta wasn’t exactly sure, but for some reason he felt a little unnerved watching the white hoodied man walk away. Just a tad. So he eats another pancake in an attempt to push down the feeling.

Why does he feel like Chishiya was going to get revenge on Niragi all of the sudden?

[adrishya]

Tiberius Blackthorn Black Volume of the Dead (Crackpot) Theories

This post contains SPOILERS from The Dark Artifices Series by Cassandra Clare! These theories aren’t meant to be taken too seriously, and I welcome other opinions and evidence to dispute this whole thing.

My Question: Did Ty have ideas for performing necromancy before Livvy’s death?

So there was something about the entire necromancy plotline throughout QoAaD that didn’t quite make sense to me. Let me start at the beginning.

So at the very beginning of QoAaD, Ty is unconscious.

“The floor of the Hall was a mass of rushing figures; among them Emma glimpsed Mark, carrying an unconscious Ty out of the hall, shouldering other Nephilim aside as he went.”

-Queen of Air and Darkness, (Chapter 1)Death Looks Down, pg. 3-4

He’s being carried out the hall by Mark. So we can confirm this.

Later on, when Helen comes to check on Dru, Dru wants to know how Ty is.

“I want to know how Ty is.”

“He’s asleep,” said Helen. “The Silent Brothers gave him a sedative potion, and Mark’s sitting with him. Do you want to sit with him too?”

-Queen of Air and Darkness, (Chapter 1) Death Looks Down, pg. 9

Helen says that Ty is asleep, and that the Silent Brothers gave him a sedative potion. This confirms that Ty is truly knocked out.

Another passage to note:

“[Helen] was terrified of what would happen when [Ty] woke up. He’d fainted in the Council Hall, and Mark had carried him to the Brothers, who were already in the Gard. They examined him in eerie silence and stated that physically he was healthy, but they would give him herbs that would keep him sleeping.”

-Queen of Air and Darkness, (Chapter 1) Darkness Looks Down, pg. 9

So nowhere during this does Ty ever wake up. Not even once.

During the scene where Diana and Kit are with Ty, Diana glimpses Ty’s book that Kit sets next to him.

“...and Diana caught a glimpse of the title embossed in gold across the cover and realized that even her numb heart could twinge with pain.”

The Return of Sherlock Holmes.

-Queen of Air and Darkness, (Chapter 1) Death Looks Down, pg. 12

Now, this could just be foreshadowing on Cassandra Clare’s part about Ty’s plan for raising Livvy from the dead, but why would Ty choose The Return of Sherlock Holmes out of all the Sherlock Holmes volumes from the London Institute, considering that fact that he had picked it when Livvy was still alive? It just seems...off. But perhaps we could just dismiss it as that being Ty’s favorite volume. But I feel it is important to note that there are other family members of Ty that aren’t alive even while Livvy was, though, such as his parents. Moving on...

“Ty woke up suddenly, like someone exploding through the surface of water, gasping for air.”

-Queen of Air and Darkness, (Chapter 2) Melancholy Waters, pg. 32

So Ty’s finally awake! Note that this is the first time he is awake after Livvy’s death.

“[Kit] had braced himself for Ty’s disappointment, but Ty only looked at him with wide gray eyes. “My bag,” Ty said. “Where is it? Is it over there?”

-Queen of Air and Darkness, (Chapter 2) Melancholy Waters, pg. 32

So Ty looks for his duffel bag immediately after waking up. Well, perhaps not immediately. First he asks whether Kit is Jules. But still, he asks for his duffel bag so quickly after he woke up.

“My duffel bag,” Ty said. There was definite strain in his voice. “Over there-I need it.”

-Queen of Air and Darkness, (Chapter 2) Melancholy Waters, pg. 33

So he really needs his duffel bag. He’s looking for something. His phone

Another passage to note:

“[Kit] was overwhelmed by the desire to drop down to his knees and grab Ty’s hands, and hold him the way he had on the rooftop in London when Livvy had been hurt.”

-Queen of Air and Darkness, (Chapter 2) Melancholy Waters, pg. 33

Ignoring the fact that Kit literally had an overwhelming desire to grab Ty’s hands and hold him, the last time Livvy was hurt in London is mentioned. During that time, it’s very much possible that Ty thought Livvy would possibly die then. He did mention that he wanted to be parabatai with Livvy, as that would have healed Livvy faster. But what if once he had possession of the pictures of the Black Volume afterwards, he started to consider necromancy as a backup plan? Anyway.

“I’ll get Helen,” [Kit] said finally. “She can tell you-what happened-”

“I know what happened.” Ty said. He had located his phone, in the bottom of the bag. The tension had left his body; his relief was clear.

-Queen of Air and Darkness, (Chapter 2) Melancholy Waters, pg. 34

So Ty knows what happened. Ty locates his phone. He’s relieved. Pictures of the pages of The Black Volume of the Dead are on his phone so he knows the ritual to bring Livvy back from the dead

Okay, so Ty has just woken up. He hasn’t even opened his phone. So I have to speculate here that he remembers that the Black Volume of the Dead is literally on his phone. But did he...formulate his plan to use it to raise Livvy that fast? We could put this down to the fact that he’s really good at making plans, and the fact that he’s immersed himself into the whole investigation with necromancy and Annabel, so he had the plan in his mind right as he woke up. But let’s further investigate this.

“I’m going back to sleep now,” Ty said. “There are drugs in my system. I can feel them.” He didn’t sound pleased.

“Should I stay?” Kit said. Ty had tossed the duffel bat onto the floor and lain back on this pillow. He was gripping the phone in his right hand, so tightly that his knuckles were white, but otherwise he showed no recognizable signs of distress.

-Queen of Air and Darkness, (Chapter 2) Melancholy Waters, pg. 34

So...he definitely remembers that the Black Volume is on his phone. He still hasn’t opened his phone, though. And he’s going back to sleep.

“Yes, I’d rather you did.” [Ty] said. “And go to sleep if you want. I’ll be fine.” He closed his eyes.

-Queen of Air and Darkness, (Chapter 2) Melancholy Waters, pg. 34

I definitely did not add this part in because Ty literally says he wants Kit to stay so we confirm that Ty is asleep again. Maybe he’s thinking to himself and not completely knocked out, but we can say with certainty that he hasn’t looked through his phone yet. Not once. Let’s continue...

Emma gets out of bed very early in the morning to check on Ty after she hears Julian coming back into the Institute and heading to his bedroom.

“[Emma]’d gotten up then and gone to check on Ty, who was still asleep, Kit beside him.”

-Queen of Air and Darkness, (Chapter 3) Eternal Rest, pg. 42

So Ty is asleep when Emma checks on him.

Afterwards, when Emma goes back to bed, and wakes up later. (I also want to note that the funeral is set to be at noon.)

Now, here’s a line from Diana as Ty comes downstairs.

“[Diana]’d sat with Ty much of the night as he slept, a dead, silent, unmoving sleep.”

-Queen of Air and Darkness, (Chapter 3) Eternal Rest, pg. 45

So I believe she is referencing this night that Ty went to sleep, not the time where he was sedated by the Silent Brothers. This means he most likely didn’t wake up. He really was asleep. And again, he never opened his phone to even look at the pictures of the Black Volume. At least not that we saw.

We don’t get any more mentions of the phone until this exchange during the funeral:

“Do you still have...the phone?” Kit asked Ty, and immediately felt like an idiot. Who went up to someone’s twin sister’s funeral and asked them if they had their phone? Especially when there was no signal anywhere in Idris. “I mean. Not that you can call. Anyone.”

“There’s one phone in Idris that works. It’s in the Consul’s office,” said Ty.

-Queen of Air and Darkness, (Chapter 3) Eternal Rest, pg. 51

Very interesting Ty never actually answered the question so Kit doesn’t seem to see Ty’s phone on him. This doesn’t mean that Ty definitely doesn’t have it with him, just that he’s probably not using it at the moment.

“It’s not the phone signal I need,” said Ty. “It’s the photos on the phone.”

-Queen of Air and Darkness, (Chapter 3) Eternal Rest, pg. 51

So at this point he knows he needs those photos. He hasn’t looked at them yet since Livvy died, as far as we know. But he knows they are there.

So we also get this little tidbit:

“On the way down from the city, [Ty] had peppered Julian with questions:...Did they take her necklace?....”

-Queen of Air and Darkness, (Chapter 3) Eternal Rest, pg. 56

I think this specific question that Ty asks is a nod to Ty needing Livvy’s locket for the ritual. But how did he know? We didn’t get a reference to him looking through those pictures on his phone. Do we have to assume it happened, or did it never happen?

Let me now focus on this exchange between Kit and Ty.

“I [climbed the pyre] to get this,” Ty said, and put a hand to his throat. Kit recognized the gold chain and the slim disk of metal attached to it: Livvy’s locket....”

...“Everybody is supposed to be sad. But that’s because they accept Livvy is dead. But I don’t. I don’t accept it.”

“What?”

“I’m going to get her back.” said Ty.

Kit sat down heavily on the windowsill. “How are you going to do that?”

Ty let go of the necklace and took his phone out of his pocket. “These were on Julian’s phone,” he said. “He took them when he was in the library with Annabel. They’re photos of the pages of the Black Volume of the Dead.”

“When did you get these?” Kit knew texting didn’t work in Idris. “Does Julian know you have them?”

“I set up his phone so it would back up to mine. I guess he didn’t realize. Then when I saw these in London, I-” Ty gave Kit a worried look. “You won’t tell him, will you?”

-Queen of Air and Darkness, (Chapter 4) Nothing That Is Ours, pg. 75

Okay, what did you do when you saw them in London, Ty? Did you perhaps read through every single page? Read about the specific ritual in detail you needed to raise someone from the dead? I don’t think he’s memorized anything given that he needs those photos, but I speculate he’s read The Black Volume, or the parts he needs, intensively. It certainly seems like a possibility at this point, given how quickly Ty came up with the plan. But why? Purely for investigative purposes? Or is there something else? We still don’t know what he did after he saw the pictures. Perhaps it was a throwaway sentence? I doubt it was a throwaway sentence, though. And he certainly read about the rituals enough to know he needed Livvy’s locket.

Another thing to note: The Black Volume contains much more than just necromantic spells, but Ty specifically seems to have read the most about necromancy. They already know how Malcolm raised Annabel...so why was Ty reading about necromantic rituals in particular? Did he just find the topic interesting, or is there another reason? I’m also not sure how he managed to set up Julian’s phone so it backed up to his but I suck at technology so

Also a tidbit from Kit I find rather interesting when Kit agrees to come sit down next to Ty to see the pictures:

“It never crossed [Kit’s] mind that Ty was lying or wrong, and he didn’t seem to be either.”

-Queen of Air and Darkness, (Chapter 4) Nothing That Is Ours, pg. 75

I feel like Kit is a bit biased when it comes to Ty, given that he’s very much in love with him so I just find the whole “Julian’s phone is backed up to mine” explanation a bit too convenient. I don’t want to think that Ty lied to Kit, but what if he wasn’t saying the entire truth? This is just speculation, though. Ty most likely said the truth because I can’t really think of another explanation as to how he has those photos, and I just can’t wrap my head around technology. But I still feel like there’s something else that Ty has done that we do not know, since we’re never actually given his point of view.

“This is the most powerful spell book for bringing back the dead that’s ever existed,” [Ty] said. “That’s why it didn’t matter if they burned Livvy’s body. With spells like these, she can be brought back whole no matter what happened to her, no matter how long-” He broke off with a shuddering breath. “But I don’t want to wait. I want to start as soon as we get back to Los Angeles.”

-Queen of Air and Darkness, (Chapter 4) Nothing That Is Ours, pg. 75-76

No matter how long? Interesting that he mentions that. Ty could even have been considering bringing other people back, people who had been dead for longer...Parents?

“Didn’t Malcolm kill a lot of people to bring Annabel back?” said Kit.

“Correlation, not causation, Watson,” said Ty. “The simplest way to do necromancy is with death energy. Life for death, basically. But there are other sources of energy. I would never kill anyone.”

-Queen of Air and Darkness, (Chapter 4) Nothing That Is Ours, pg. 76

So this could just be Cassandra Clare info-dumping about the Black Volume through Ty. But there can only be one explanation as to how Ty knows so much about necromancy if it’s been such a short time since Livvy died, and he was asleep for a lot of the time. He has to have been researching about it by reading the Black Volume intensively beforehand. And why would he want to know so much about the different ways to bring people back from the dead? Why would he be reading about these rituals while Livvy is still alive? Perhaps just for investigative purposes, or he simply found it interesting, but I speculate that there could be deeper reasons.

And now for the coherent (crackpot) theories:

Theory 1: Ty was reading the Black Volumes rituals for raising people from the dead after he saw the pictures, remembering when Livvy nearly died, so he would be prepared if she actually died. Yes, he did decide he wanted to be parabatai with her so that she would heal faster if she ever got hurt again, but he could have had a backup plan of performing a necromantic ritual if she died, after he saw and read through those backed up photos of the Black Volume from Julian’s phone. It would explain how he knew what he was going to do right when he woke. It was because he had already planned everything out.

Theory 2: Ty was thinking of trying to raise his parents from the dead, or one of his parents. He thought that if he did, they could run the Institute instead of Julian. (In LoS, Kit, Ty, and Livvy find out that Julian had been running the Los Angeles Institute the whole time.) After Livvy died, he used that knowledge of how to raise someone from the dead that he had learned from the Black Volume and applied it to Livvy. This theory is far fetched, but I just wanted to add it in here.

Theory 3: I’m completely grasping at straws here with my previous theories, and Ty knows so much about necromancy simply because he was researching about how Malcolm Fade brought back Annabel. There is no deeper reason, and Ty was just simply reading the Black Volume from the pictures he had in his possession for research purposes, and out of his own interest. He came up with the plan for raising Livvy quickly, due to all his research and his affinity for plan making.

(And one thing- If Ty had been learning about the rituals in the Black Volume of the Dead and finding out so much information when he realized he had those pictures, then it doesn’t really matter if he threw his phone in the ocean. The information is in his head. This could be highly significant in TWP, since Ty has this knowledge that could potentially put him in danger.)

So what do you guys think? Let me know if there’s anything you wanna add to these theories, or if you have your own theory, or if you have evidence and opinions that dispute this whole thing:)

Also right now I only have a copy of Queen of Air and Darkness that I impulsively checked out from the library, so any information that didn’t come from QoAaD was found by me obsessively perusing the wiki pages

[peachyqueenly]

The Night of Witches

Rated: T

White Lily Cookie goes to The Night of Witches seeking answers... but this time, she is not alone. Will this affect how Fortuna writes the story?

Link to it on AO3 (if you prefer to read it there): https://archiveofourown.org/works/31830856

//Quick note before we start!!

Firstly, I'd like to thank my friends Lou and Cas (if either of you are reading this, mwah mwah thank you for your help besties!!) for helping me proofread!!! Yall are the best and your suggestions definitely helped bring this work to life <3.

Secondly, feel free not to click this link until you either a. reach the part where they appear or b. finish the entire story, but here is a link to the design for an OC (or alt design, if you will) that appears here. I find having a visual reference helps me, so: https://twitter.com/PeachyQueenly/status/1399134036359106567?s=20.

Finally, just in case, a fair warning that there is an injury (someone loses a finger) and a death in here. I don't think I wrote it too graphically, but pay heed to the T rating.

~

Such a solemn place...

White Lily had told him it was just an evening trip. Nothing specific, just that she had some business to attend to outside the soaring peaks and sweet valleys of the Vanilla Kingdom. She told him not to worry himself to the point of crumbling... and at first, he felt bad for not believing her mournful eyes.

But now? He was glad to have trusted his judgement rather than her words... for once.

The smell of burnt dough and... batter? Like the lingering smell of the occasional Cake Hound attack. That was the first thing that registered in Pure Vanilla’s senses as he got lost in his friend’s frantic mumblings. Then, he noticed how dark and dreary this place was compared to the sunshine that blessed their home. Even in the deep shrubbery that was White Lily’s personal residence, the faint traces of sunlight could be seen in the sprawling vegetation was in no doubt comforting to one such as her.

Here, however? Nothing but darkness and a foreboding sense that something was... off. As if this was a place no mere Cookie was meant to be.

“The Night of Witches...”

The Night of Witches? He recalled hearing about that back in the two’s school days. Though, no Cookie was able to learn much beyond its name. Something about it being too dangerous for them. Or those who devoted themselves to its research leaving one day— like Lily did after her crime, only to never return. Sentencing their knowledge to secrecy forevermore.

That would all change tonight.

Pure Vanilla had situated himself not far from the display of desserts Lily herself hid behind. That’s when he saw... them.

Even more towering than those grand displays were three figures; cloaked in dark robes and large hats not so different from what the practicing wizards he helped train wore. Yet, their hats lacked the crispy charm their waffle cone attire had. Those jagged edges bringing with it an air of uneasiness—unlike the soft breezes that passed through his kingdom’s canyons.

“...AND WOULD YOU LOOK AT THESE! THEY LOOK AMAZING!”

… huh?

“PHEW! I BAKED A TON OF COOKIES!”

Cookies? Were these the celestials that blessed them with life—

“HERE, TRY ONE! YOU’RE GONNA LOVE IT!”

The crack that reverberated through the air could only be matched by one from all those years ago— that glass-shattering sound which marked his last day as a student of the Blueberry Yogurt Academy. Pure Vanilla never imagined there would be a sound more frightening and life changing than that.

… and yet, that crunch of a Cookie—one of their own—being bitten into. It was enough to turn even one as pure and sweet as he into a trembling mess. One hand covering his mouth as to contain the emotions that threatened to spill out as tears and screams.

White Lily, meanwhile, had never been able to maintain her composure well. Even back when she committed her original sin, the immediate regret and despair she felt was evident in her cries. And her inability to escape the doomed school without the help of her dearest friend. So, it came as no surprise that this revelation sent her into a spiral of mutterings, shaking, and... resolve? No, that last one was surprising. Her insistence that Cookies she hardly knew must escape was a sign of just how much stronger their endeavors with the other three had made her.

All her courage was met with were eerie smiles and silence, however. Perhaps these Cookies had already met their fate... doomed to become the next generation of tragedies.

How cruel... how defeating, Vanilla thought. No one deserved this.

“I...”

“--AAAAAH!”

Pure Vanilla’s eyes shot open as he watched the one dearest to him back away in despair, only to then fall backwards. Off the table edge she was so precariously situated upon. From his view, he had little idea what awaited her... but he was not about to let her find out.

He was not about to let her be subjected to more suffering than she already had.

The beholder always on his person could only glare and roll its eye as Vanilla threw it aside and dashed forward. Jumping into action—literally. He pushed himself forward with the swiftness of the wind, and his hand soon met with her own bandaged one.

He pulled Lily back over the table... throwing himself into the maul of the beast in her stead.

Pure Vanilla could only smile as gravity took hold of him. Smile as he always did... even as the rising heat threatened to crumble him before his body even touched that sickly-looking dough below. Regret could come later. For now, relief came out as a few stray tears and a soft whisper, "Thank you, gods—”

…

White Lily only sat there, wide eyed and shaking as she tried to process what on Earthbread just happened. The soft plop of Vanilla’s poor body made her feel the five four stages of grief in just ten seconds. Denial: there was no way this was happening. Anger: why did this have to happen; why did they have to continue to suffer? Bargaining: please, let the hands of time turn back and reverse this. Depression: this was all her fault.

Acceptance was the logical next step, but it was far too early for such a thing.

Her mouth opened and closed as wordless breaths came from trembling lips. Until, finally, she tried uttering one thing, “Vanilla—”

“WHOSE COOKIE IS THAT?”

Lily quickly covered her mouth, both to stifle her frightened voice and hold back the bile she felt bubbling up. Quickly, she took cover behind a stray plate covered in desserts. Such a sight didn’t do much for the sick feeling in her gut, but at least it offered her cover from the stares of those witches and ever-smiling Cookies.

“LOOK, IT FELL INTO THE ULTIMATE DOUGH!”

Fell? Into the Ultimate Dough? She had little to no idea what this Ultimate Dough was, or what it meant for Pure Vanilla. However, that was perhaps more terrifying than at least knowing her friend’s fate.

“”T’IS ALRIGHT! LET’S JUST BAKE IT AND SEE WHAT HAPPENS!”

… Huh?

“YEAH, LET’S BAKE IT!”

No... please—

“LET’S SEE WHAT FORTUNA HAS IN STORE!”

Thick streams of syrup ran down White Lily’s face. She wanted to scream for this all to cease so badly, and she probably would have if she could. This couldn’t be happening. This endless night... their endless suffering had to end eventually, right? From their mad dash into the night following the destruction she caused, to this night they were taught was beyond sacred...

Her endless mistakes couldn’t continue to doom them both, right!?

She could only sit and watch as those cruel hands of theirs began to knead the dough. How each tool so effortlessly and callously did its job: the flattening done by the rolling pin... the cutting of the dough with a tool she remembered gliding her hand across all those years ago. How cold and hollow such metal had been...

Was Pure Vanilla feeling all of this? All the, no doubt, painful experiences such cruel gods wrought?

White Lily became consumed by thoughts such as these. It was all so gut-wrenching to watch, and yet she couldn’t pull her gaze away. It was all so disturbingly mesmerizing.

Soon, many bodies laid across baking sheets normally used as parchment by Cookies. Could one of them be the friend she’d go to hell and back to save? She almost hoped none of them were. As the unfortunate fate of these Cookies was not lost on her.

How could it be? Such a loud crunch left a stain no amount of scrubbing and scratching could rub off.

All those poor, unfortunate souls were then moved over to the oven almost every Cookie escaped from. Perhaps what were once thought as gods had finally grew tired of their endless torture and torment... for now, at least. Soon, they’d move from simply trying their handiwork to...

No, Lily couldn’t bear to remember what The Night of Witches meant for the Cookies who fell victim to it. To witness to it all again.

She needed to get out of here. Fast.

Trembling, White Lily began forcing her old, tired limbs to move. Her staff acting as a cane to support the weight of both her body, which felt on the verge of crumbling, and her new sins. Someone needed to get out of here. Someone needed to tell this story.

Pure Vanilla’s sacrifice couldn’t be for nothing.

… That was when a wave of doom washed over her. This feeling... this... scent. She knew it well. The smell of molasses and pomegranates: Black Magic unique to the priestesshood they visited as young wizards. How... could the witches have gotten a hold of such magic?

And, more importantly, why did magic familiar to her fill Lily with such fear?

She was given no time to theorize. Rather than the sound of breaking glass or crunching of their fragile bodies, the clanking sound of metal vibrated throughout the room. Catching the attention of anyone conscious to it: including the witches and White Lily. The oven doors... they were slammed wide open through no fault of the ones using them. Whatever the answer was to her previous inquires, it was coming. Soon. She could feel it.

A whisper fell from her lips, “What—”

“Ha... HA.... AH HA HA HA HA HA!”

If her magenta irises could widen any more, they did so as that howl echoed around her. A familiar yet twisted laugh. One that was far too sickeningly sweet to mean good fortune.

It can’t be—

“Haaa... who could have known?” relief and a newfound truth came from the reborn Cookie’s lips. A truth as clear as the finest sugar crystals. “Who could have known it was so simple!! All the world’s problems... they all have one simple answer!!”

Another clang of metal reverberated as it slammed the fork-turned-staff against the oven. The loud noise awakening the thing on its aforementioned staff—revealing a burning cyan iris. Such an intense stare could serve as a declaration of its own, but the staff’s commander still offered its own words to those there to bear witness, “Witches... Cookies... truly, none of them have the right, nor should be given the privilege, to define our fate.”

This can’t be real.

“Reborn in a new body... and with a new name. Yes, you lot may call me Black Molasses Cookie—the one true god of this world.”

Pure Vanilla?, White Lily thought: dumbfounded and speechless.

The Witches, meanwhile, gave Black Molasses not a second of respite. Or rather, one Witch didn’t. That one fool amongst them lunged forward in an attempt to grab what was meant to be a tasty treat to them. No doubt to crush and then... eat him. He was just a Cookie, after all. What harm could he truly cause?

“Ha... foolish—”

Two eyes opened and glared at those who should terrify all Cookies: one a familiar cyan to the trembling wallflower, and the other a red that burned a hole straight through her very soul. “As I just said...” he declared “Only I get to define our fates!!”

Seeming to know what its master wanted, a soft glow emanated from the staff before a beam was fired straight towards the Witch. That which wiped one of her elongated fingers clean off. Not a drop spilled from the cauterized wound, but the smell of burning... something made Lily feel even sicker than she already did.

Meanwhile, Black Molasses laughed as his first victim wailed in agony, “HA HA!! That’s what—” his incoming tirade was interrupted when those wails and screams of the Witches turned into a mad dash, “Awww, leaving so soon? Don’t forget—you left your cakes in the oven!!”

Everything happened so fast. Cake beasts arose at the slam of his staff— awakened by its call. Their feral growls and gnawing were not directed at Cookiekind this time, however. Instead, they chased after the fleeing Witches. Bearing their fangs until they found something to sink their fangs into.

White Lily could only stare in horror at what it was.

Pained and agonized screams left the Witch who, just moments ago, had the misfortunate of losing a finger. If only all she lost tonight was that finger. Now, the beasts’ crunching fangs tore at what was left of her withering body and corrupted soul. Until not a single wail was left. And all that filled the air was a metallic scent and the howling of beasts all too pleased with their work.

“Remember this night well, everyone!!! As, tonight, I have shown the world why I am to be the one who divines and rules above all!!”

The Cakes howled louder at such a declaration.

No. No, this couldn’t be... this wasn’t her dearest friend—

“Waah...”

Finally, a much more pleasant sound registered in White Lily’s senses. A child’s voice. How had she not noticed someone so young was but a few steps away from her. Were they cowering there the entire time? Alone? Regardless, she wouldn’t let them be alone for any longer. “Young one, Do you... we need to...” A surprised gasp came as, upon closer inspection, she noticed, “Your arm—!!”

“My, my~ and what do we have here?”

There was no time for her to push the issue. Quickly, White Lily assumed a defensive position in front of the young Cookie. Or... as defensive of a pose she could assume.

Her gaze betrayed her. For the agony and fear behind her eyes served to show just how despaired she truly was. Just how much she looked at Black Molasses and knew one thing: this was all her fault. Whatever happened next could’ve been prevented if it weren’t for her twisted, curious mind. White Lily had no right to convince him otherwise, and yet she persisted, “Vanilla, I—”

“Ah, you still see that old fool in me, do you now?” not a single ounce of respect was given to what Black Molasses considered a mere fragment of his past, “Tell me, dearest Lillia.” he jeered, “You saw the same thing we all saw. You, me, and even that child... yet you look on at my divine judgement in fear. Why?”

“I...”

He sighed. “Perhaps you consider my methods too cruel? Too beneath Cookies meant to help others?” with every word used to poke at her resolve, he took a step closer to both Lily and the child she kept guard over—blue flames rising and dancing from the back of his gown, “And what of you, young one? What do you think of this night Cookies are told is blessed and holy?”

“Leave them out of--”

“Black... Molasses Cookie...?”

“There, there. I hear you, child.” with a flick of his staff, White Lily was hoisted into the air and thrown to the side like a toy who had long outlived its value. A helpless yelp punctuated the thud that followed. Black Molasses didn’t seem to mind, though. Instead, his focus shifted towards the kid, “You who lost your arm— no doubt to those infernal Witches— understands the need for the world to be rebuilt, yes?”

The child nodded, “Hm... I guess... yes.”

“Then follow me.” A gentle smile accompanied his invitation. “I can not only provide that which you need, but I can also show you a better world. One built in my image... I need but your name and devotion.”

“... Red... Velvet Cookie.” the young one responded. The simple act of sharing his name serving as an allegiance to this new Cookie’s vision.

“I see, Red Velvet...” Black Molasses mused as his hand met with the velvet-soft locks of Red Velvet’s hair. Then, his attention turned back towards Lily, “And as for you~”

The previous impact had left White Lily rather shaken and dazed, on the border of consciousness and unconsciousness. Really, it was surprising she wasn’t out like a light by now. What with the exhaustion that came with tonight’s events and the thud she had experienced earlier.

“Still awake, are we?” a crooked smile, and then Black Molasses held her chin in his hand. Directing what little of an attention span she had left towards him. Only him, “Consider my mercy, in spite of your waywardness, a blessing.” he leaned in close, crooning into her ear “I have great plans regarding you. For now, have sweet dreams... then, warn the world of my name.”

Black Molasses then let Lily’s head drop back down before turning his back to her. Leading Red Velvet away from his disciple with some remaining doubts and back towards the oven. They had a great deal of baking to do, after all. Plenty of baking... especially of one particular soul who deserved the ultimate payback.

“... not that any such warning will stop me, of course.”

And with that, White Lily slipped into unconsciousness. That sickeningly sweet laughter lingering in the air as she hoped this was all just one bad dream...

~

//Hello!! Peach (Katie) here!!!! I'd like to thank you for reading my work-- it means a lot to me that anyone would be willing to check out my writing. Trying to figure out both White Lily's internal conflicts, and how Black Molasses would differ from Dark Enchantress, was a lot of fun. I definitely want to revisit this AU both in writing and drawing over time!!

If you would be interested in anything else I do (as I'm primarily an illustrator), check me out on Twitter @peachyqueenly, A03 @Peach_KT, and instagram @peach_kt. Thank you so much again, and I look forward to bringing everyone my next creation.

Quick credit to Cookie Run Kingdom for some of the lines-- as some were remained unchanged or slightly edited to fit the scene.

[maddiefriendlovesbilly]

Back by literally zero request:

Once More, This Time With Feeling: Pt. 2

Rating: PG13 for violence and graphic descriptions, SFW

Ship: Ghost/Spooker

Warnings: Graphic Descriptions of intense panic attacks and dissociation, derealization, depersonalization, implied traumatic events, similarities to alters switching (Jimmy and Gregory, not intentional but is still there due to the nature of the scene), Graphic Descriptions of violence, Major Character Death (temporary) and probably more (please tell me if there is anything else that needs to be tagged!)

Summary: Ghost learns that watching someone die in front of you is a very quick way to find out how much you actually care about them - even if you're not quite ready to admit it just yet. (Contains lots of fluff with a decent amount of angst mixed in! Could be considered hurt/comfort)

Wordcount: 2634

Nothing can be compared to the sound of an axe splitting a head clean open. Ghost can’t move. He can’t think. This can’t be happening. He’s gonna wake up now...Now...Now.

But nothing happens.

He glances down, numbly, at Spooker’s lifeless body on the ground. Blood spills from the crevice in his skull. Ghost’s stomach lurches, so he looks back up at the doorway, wondering if he’s next. It barely registers that there is no enemy. Just an axe swinging gently back and forth on a rope attached to the ceiling. A trap. It was a trap all along, and they fell for it. Distantly, he wonders if brains can be repaired once they’re split open like that. He thinks, Probably not.

Ghost feels like his world is sinking, crashing, burning. Why isn’t he getting up? Billy’s powers should still hold up here - they’re well within range of the Acachalla house, so why?

He realizes he’s been staring vacantly at Spooker for the past who knows how long, and when he looks up Katrina is standing in front of him, staring at him from behind her mane. She gurgles, sounding somehow both sympathetic and smug despite saying no actual words, and Ghost wavers between collapsing to the ground and sobbing, and strangling her on the spot. Something twitches inside of him, vile and immoral, waiting for its moment to strike. He considers indulging it just this once; doesn’t get the chance to decide whether he really will because Katrina pounces, claws digging into his ribcage like she’s searching for something - and in his last moments of consciousness, he watches something pulse in her hand, once, before all goes dark.

Even in death, it seems he’s not allowed to rest.

As soon as his eyes close, they blink open. He can’t see anything, but he feels a doorknob under his hand and feels his mouth finishing the words, “--what about the others?”

Behind him, Spooker’s voice replies, without a hint of caution or worry, “No luck over he-Woah!”

The door hits the wall and Ghost’s eyes widen with fear. He hears himself stutter out, “H-Hey, you good?”

He mouths the words as Spooker says them, glad at least that the room is too dark for Spooker to see it. “Yeah...yeah, I’m alright, just caught me off guard. Let’s go.” He pivots, lunging blindly for where Spooker’s voice came from, tackling him. Something sharp nicks his cheek, and he feels a slight breeze pass overhead. They hit the ground hard, but Ghost decides he prefers that over the alternative.

“Ghost! Wh-What was that for?”

He fumbles for his emergency batteries and reloads his flashlight as fast as he can, knowing Katrina could appear any second. He shines his light towards the doorway, where the axe takes a final swing inwards, before disappearing behind the door for good.

“Holy crap Ghost, how...how did you know that was there?”

“Instincts or something, I guess…” He pants, out of breath.

His mind buzzes and whirs, and he can hardly think through it, but he can’t just lay on top of Spooker forever, so he forces himself to stand, peeking around the corner cautiously.

Katrina is nowhere in sight. His chest aches with how coiled his muscles are - ready to spring at any moment.

Spooker dusts himself off and peeks over Ghost’s shoulder, searching the room and finding the exact same thing Ghost did — nothing. Ghost just barely restrains himself from putting a protective arm between Spooker and the empty room.

Cautiously, he steps inside, Spooker close behind. The only sound is that of their boots clicking against the tile floor. Despite everything, he finds time to thank any gods watching that Spooker has been too distracted by the new surroundings to baby him about the second cut across his cheek. It’s only a matter of time though, he knows.

Glancing around cautiously, Ghost takes in the decrepit machinery dominating the room’s layout. Most of it has decayed beyond recognition. In the far right corner sits a row of industrial shelves containing what at first looks to be scrap metal and wires, but as they approach them, turns out to be an assortment of batteries and other miscellaneous electronics.

“Score!!” Spooker shouts, and by some miracle Ghost quells his roaring panic into a tense, “Spooker, be careful, we don’t know if the entity is nearby.”

Spooker appears duly contrite, so he lets it go this once, if only because he doesn’t fully grasp the peril they are in. Hell, even Ghost’s not sure what the bigger picture is. If that entity is truly Katrina, then what are her motives? And if it isn’t, did the others see someone else?

Spooker is currently loading some new batteries into his flashlight, so Ghost feigns at inspecting some old flip phones on one of the shelves near Spooker and asks hesitantly, “That girl earlier, you saw her too right?”

“The one with the sharp claws and hair all in her eyes? Yeah, why?”

“Hm. Interesting,” is all he can say.

So if it’s something pretending to be her to toy with him, why did everyone see Katrina, instead of their own illusions? Is it just another layer to the deception? Why bother?

What is the point?

“Is that Nokia particularly thought-provoking, or are you gonna tell me what you’re thinking about?” Spooker had apparently appeared over his shoulder sometime while he was lost in thought, and Ghost jerks around, slamming into the shelf of Nokias, now behind him.

A loud CLANG resonates throughout the room, reverberating off the surrounding machinery in ways that seem almost staged -- it’s hauntingly ethereal.

Spooker’s hands fly out to steady him immediately, a look of concern clearly written on his face. For some reason, despite all logic, the first thing he notices is how close they are to each other. The second is the pain in his back. He hisses.

Spooker’s hands flit about nervously, from Ghost’s shoulder to his face before he curls his fists at his sides, nails digging into his palms. “I didn’t mean to scare you like that -- okay maybe a little but-” Ghost’s mouth twitches upwards in amusement involuntarily. “-I didn’t think you’d startle that badly! Really! I’m so so sorry-”

Ghost realizes that Spooker could probably apologize all day if allowed to, so he cuts in, “I’m fine Spooker.” it’s mostly the truth, he’ll probably bruise like hell tomorrow morning, but other than that he’s okay. He’s been through much worse on a mission, so he tries to seem sincere when he smiles slightly and says, “Seriously, it’s nothing to worry about, I’m alright.”

Spooker seems placated for all of two seconds before he suddenly squints at Ghost with heavy suspicion. “Are you saying that because you’re actually fine, or because your pain-rating scale only has the options of ‘not bleeding out or missing limbs, so doing fine,’ and ‘currently bleeding out or missing limbs, might need assistance if the situation is truly dire?’”

Ghost glances away, he’s not exactly wrong - not that he’ll admit that. “It’s actually fine, just a small bruise.”

“Uh huh.” He doesn’t sound convinced. “Turn around, let me see it.”

“Wha-Why? I told you it’s fine!” He is not whining right now, that would be childish. He’s just...objecting loudly. Yes.

“Yeah, and I totally believe you. Turn around.”

Ghost eyes the space under Spooker’s arm, calculating possible escapes. “We have much more important things to do than play doctor Spooker. Like finding a way out of here perhaps? You can swaddle me in bubble wrap when we get out of here for all I care, but right now I’d like to keep moving forward.”

Spooker seems to debate this for a few moments before blinking a few times and replying, “Fine, but if you start struggling to keep up I’m not going to be so nice.” He moves back, letting Ghost slide past him and out from between the shelves. Ghost has to push aside the very strong feeling that he’s had that conversation before.

Ghost ignores the inexplicable heat in his cheeks and starts scanning the room for an exit. For some reason it feels like the temperature has risen quite a bit since they entered, maybe the next room will be cooler. It could be some sort of elaborate trap to slowly boil them to death without them noticing. Who really knows with ghosts.

The walls around the machines are solid grey concrete, smooth and uniform. Ghost searches for some sort of inconsistency, a flaw somewhere, and eventually he finds a small notch in the otherwise perfect walls, and moves to investigate.

As he starts to approach it the sound of something metal hitting the floor ricochets from behind the shelves. “S-Sorry! My...My bad....”

“You alright?”

“Fine! Fine! Everything is fine!” Spookers voice is an octave too high to be deemed truly fine, but Ghost chalks it up to being startled by the loud noise. He looks back at the notch in the wall. Suddenly, he realizes that engraved just above the notch is a long string of symbols he’s never seen before. He wonders how he didn’t notice the intricate carvings until now.

“ᚱᛖᛋᛏ ᛁᚾ ᛏᚺᛖ ᚨᚱᛗᛋ ᛟᚠ ᚹᚺᛖᚱᛖ ᛃᛟᚢᚱ ᛋᛟᚢᛚ ᛁᛋ ᚱᛟᛟᛏᛖᛞ. ᛒᚱᛖᚨᛏᚺᛖ ᛁᚾ ᛏᚺᛖ ᚨᚢᚱᚨ ᛏᚺᚨᛏ ᛃᛟᚢ ᛋᚺᚨᚱᛖ. ᛟᚾᚲᛖ ᛏᚺᛖᛋᛖ ᚲᛟᚾᛞᛁᛏᛁᛟᚾᛋ ᚺᚨᚹᛖ ᛒᛖᛖᚾ ᛗᛖᛏ, ᛏᚺᛖ ᛈᚨᛏᚺ ᚹᛁᛚᛚ ᛟᛈᛖᚾ.”

Squinting at it, he decides to call Spooker over. Spooker scampers up, yet again hovering just over his left shoulder. Ghost is starting to think he just likes being there. For some reason this doesn’t bother him. He doesn’t know why.

Spooker looks at the symbols for a few seconds like they’re familiar, before finally he exclaims, “Oh! I know what those are - Those are Nordic Runes - specifically Elder Futhark!”

“You just...knew that?”

“I’ve always been into occult stuff, y’know? Apparently people still use these for divination today! But it’s also a language - like right here...” He points at one that looks like a fancy M over Ghost’s shoulder, and he’s beaming so brightly that Ghost is pretty sure he’s found the reason it’s so hot in this room - the warmth in his smile as he talks could rival the sun. Spooker keeps talking, explaining what different runes mean and their individual names, and Ghost realizes he’s been staring at Spooker’s face instead of paying attention, so he looks back at the runes and hopes he hadn’t noticed. Spooker doesn’t mention it if he does, just keeps talking about runes and their meanings, and it settles a part of Ghost he hadn’t even realized was jittery until now.

Something in the notched section of wall clicks twice, and not a second later does the wall slide open in one smooth motion. Behind it lies a rather dull looking corridor, with plain, dark walls, and a sharp turn about twenty feet ahead. They both jump slightly at the sudden change, but just as quickly steel themselves and enter, unwilling to test how long it would remain open. “Do you know what opened it?”

Spooker’s eyes flick side to side like he’s debating with himself. “Well, the clue was really vague...So I’m not really sure..” He scratches his chin. He’s pretty sure Spooker is hiding something, but asking what the clue was when he probably said it earlier is practically announcing that he wasn’t actually paying attention, so instead he just replies, “Huh, weird. Well as long as we’re making progress it can’t be a bad thing. Let’s go.”

Spooker, for one reason or another, stays silent.

Oh. It seems he forgot where he was.

As they round the corner they are met with the one and only Katrina - or whatever it is that’s pretending to be her - standing about thirty feet down the hallway. Ghost could swear she’s smiling under her mop of hair. He wants to run, or scream, or just, at the very least, move, preferably somewhere where the blood red eyes piercing through her veil of hair can’t follow him. But he can’t. He’s stuck to the spot, like he’s been sautered to the floor. He feels a presence behind him - and it can’t be her because he’s staring right at her; so it must be Spooker hovering just over his left shoulder, just like always, and if he wasn’t frozen in place he might have cried with relief. He manages to drag a shaking hand backwards until it meets Spooker’s, intertwining their fingers with a bruising grip. Katrina observes this, before nodding her head in what looks like approval. She turns on her heel and shambles back the way she presumably came.

“Wh-” His voice cracks, forcing him to pause and gather himself. “What was that. Why did she-I don’t, I don’t understand. Why-Why would…I don’t understand-” The jittery fragment grows restless, feeding off of his panic. He doesn’t understand what it is, he doesn’t understand what just happened, he doesn’t understand anything at all.

The fragment is growing agitated now. He doesn’t know why or how or what it is. It’s hungry. It’s so hungry. How did he end up on the ground? When did he start laughing? There’s someone talking somewhere. They feel familiar, safe. Who were they again? He’s still holding their hand. A face has come into view, or maybe they lifted his head. He feels like he’s watching through a window. The face - so so familiar, yet completely unrecognizable - wipes tears from his cheeks. Is he crying? They look worried; it looks wrong on their face. Wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong--

It’s all wrong.

This isn’t happening. It can’t be. It’s not real.

Spooker - that’s his name - looks at him with a frantic, desperate, fearful look in his eyes. He’s still laughing, he realizes.

“I saw you die,” falls from his mouth, unbidden. He doesn’t know why. “The axe. It killed you.” He giggles hysterically, but it’s choked off by more tears.

“I know,” Spooker says in a soothing voice, like he’s talking to a caged animal, “I know, I’m sorry.” They’re still holding hands, even after all of this. He looks down to see that his nails have dug deep enough into Spooker’s hand to draw blood. He starts to pull away, but Spooker catches his wrist. “Hey, it’s okay. I’ll be fine. You can hold on for as long as you need, okay?”

“Okay. Okay.” Everything is still so foggy, but the red haze is gone. “What’s wrong with me?”

“Nothing. Nothing is wrong with you okay?”

“But, normal....normal people don’t.” He swallows thickly. “Don’t do this.”

“No, no they don’t,” Spooker agrees.

“So why am I?”

“We’re gonna figure it out, okay? We’ll figure it out together.”

“Okay.” He feels very small. Vulnerable. Scared. He finds himself longing for a mansion he’s never seen before; tall and green and empty, so empty. Home.

He suddenly feels exhausted. “I-I can’t,” he blinks rapidly, trying to stem the drooping of his eyelids.

“It’s okay, you can rest. I’ll still be here when you wake up.”

“Alright…”

The next time his eyes close, he drifts off into a dreamless sleep.

[smuttyjenos]

The Heartbreak Series

A Short Overview of Mark’s Love-life Throughout the Years

Mark-centric AU

Pairings: markhyuck, markten, yumark, renmark, jenmark, lumark, and side!johnten

word count: 3.4k+ words

written in bullet form cus I'm a lazy shit

unbetaed so read at your own risk lmao

very self-indulgent; i.e., I just really wanted to hurt Mark... sorry Mark

suggestive themes. contains swearing and mentions of alcohol, drugs, sex, and cigarettes. reader discretion is advised!

—————————————————————————————

MARKHYUCK - “The timing wasn’t right”

Mark didn’t hate Donghyuck when they first met; he just didn’t get him

Where Mark was quiet, respectful, and peace-loving Donghyuck was loud, brash, and always spoke what was on his mind without any regard to anyone’s feelings

But somehow everyone loved Hyuck and Mark couldn’t understand why

Until he took the time to properly get to know him

That was when he realized how irresistibly magnetic he was

He was funny in a crass way

And was horribly honest (for better or for worse)

He knew the best ways to rile people up but somehow always smiled his way out of any fight

And god was his smile beautiful

He made you want to be his friend with a single look

But understanding this didn’t mean understanding his own feelings (especially as a supposedly “straight” Catholic boy), so nothing truly develops between Mark and Hyuck aside from a weirdly tense friendship

Where Mark was constantly craving his attention

And Hyuck was constantly torn between giving it to him or staying away for his own sanity

They move away from each other after high school and end up in different universities so they don’t hear from each other again until years later

MARKTEN - “the mentor”

Mark was in his first year of college when he realized he might not actually be straight after all

Being away from his Catholic parents and being exposed to other types of people really helped broaden his horizons

But meeting Ten was the turning point

They kissed during a game of Truth or Dare and the next thing Mark knew was that Ten was bringing him home to his bed

The morning after a confusing but terribly pleasurable fiasco, Ten was laughing at Mark's naivety because

(1) he hadn’t left like most guys do after a one night stand and;

(2) Mark was a cuddler when he was drunk off his ass

A literal octopus that pouted and whined and unconsciously sucked hickies unto exposed pieces of skin he could reach overnight

Mark tries to make sense of what happened

He thought that he and Ten HAD to be a thing now after what they had done (and they had done a lot)

Mark doesn’t really understand yet the concept of a one night stand

Ten explains to him that they don’t have to date or be exclusive (Ten just doesn’t roll that way)

They can just keep things casual between them

But poor Mark just looked so lost

So Ten takes him under his wing

Ten spends the next few months helping Mark explore his sexuality

They try different positions and different roles and even have a few threesomes with Ten’s more regular hookup: Johnny

Ten goes to great lengths to teach Mark about the wonders of hookup culture and one night stands and bars with sexy drunk men and sex full of passion but without any of the strings attached

He does all this before sending him off into the world like a chick leaving the nest

But Ten is still Mark’s favorite go-to for a long time

He just never had a chance with Ten

Not really

Especially not with Johnny always around

YUMARK - “the first heartbreak”

Yuta was Mark’s first boyfriend

He was known around the school as the problem-kid in Johnny’s year because he had skipped and flunked so many classes, has repeated his 3rd year twice

He was also notorious for his black-painted nails, devil-may-care attitude, and smoking on school grounds

He was the type of boy your parents warned you to stay away from

And he was also Ten’s go-to supply for happy pills and alcohol whenever he hosted parties at Johnny's frat house

Mark had known about him for a while

Had heard about him from all his seniors and even his batchmates

But they first meet at Ten’s graduation party when Mark was in his 2nd Year

By then Mark had been well-taught and fully immersed in hookup culture and he wanted to try his hand on someone different like Yuta

He let the older boy take him to his dorm room which smelled of weed and cheap beer

This isn't really what Mark would call attractive

But somehow spending the night with Yuta made Mark crave more than was deemed healthy

Even Ten wanted him to stay away from Yuta after hearing he had slept with him

But something about his aura made Mark fall to his knees

So they spend a few more nights together wrapped up in each other’s embrace

Yuta showed Mark things that Ten didn’t dare (and that was saying something as Ten was quite kinky himself)

Mark would probably never disclose to anyone the kind of shit he and Yuta regularly got around to doing

But one of their tamer endeavors, and one that they particularly enjoyed doing, was fucking raw while they were high or drunk

During this time their inhibitions would be completely thrown out the window and their fucking would often border on dangerous

Like fucking on the windowsill with the window wide open

Despite living on the 3rd floor

On one of those blurry nights where their vision was hazy with smoke and their throats burned from liquor, Mark blurted out that he had fallen in love with Yuta

Yuta didn't exactly reply

But he pulled him into a kiss and they didn’t speak of it again

They spent most of their free time together making out, fucking, or chilling at Yuta’s dorm with bongs and Japanese horror movies after that

They skipped classes to go on long drives to the countryside where they’d happily fuck in (and occasionally on) the car

Mark picked up smoking as a habit after having been given the task of carrying around Yuta’s lighter and lighting his cigarettes for him

The hefty metal had ‘N.YUTA’ messily carved into its body with a box cutter

And carrying it around made Mark feel useful, powerful, and gave him a sense of purpose

But he didn’t realize how dependent he was becoming or how much of his life he was slowly ruining

Mark lived in this toxic relationship believing Yuta needed him

Yuta told him that he needed him

When in reality it was actually Mark who needed him to feel alive

One day the relationship took a nosedive when Mark finds Yuta cheating on him with Winwin

Mark had never known what rage felt like until that moment

Mark cried angry tears

And he threw the metal light out the window, shattering the glass and causing Winwin to wince at the probable cost of the damage

Yuta tried to apologize but ultimately they decided that the relationship had already died months ago

They weren’t good or healthy for each other

And this was apparently just an incident waiting to happen

So they broke things off without another word

Mark has long since forgiven Yuta but only because it was in his nature to do so

But despite having uttered the words “I forgive you” he still feels the sting of heartache every time he sees Yuta and Winwin together

Because he couldn’t deny that Winwin made Yuta better than he ever could

RENMARK - “the one that got away”

Renjun was unique and enigmatic in many ways

He was smart, funny, artistic, and had a great personality, but was closed off and always kept his guard up

He made Mark want to use big words he otherwise would never use on a daily basis (like Abstentious, Deleterious, and Grandiose) simply because it made him smile

And Mark really loved his smile

Renjun would tease him for it, saying Mark probably didn't even know half the words he spewed out

But Mark could handle a few hundred blows to his ego if it meant Renjun would look at him for a few seconds longer

Following his relationship with Yuta, however, Mark just couldn’t find it in himself to ask the damn boy out

Renjun wasn’t an overly affectionate person and was stingy with skinship

But that made it all sweeter when he would lean against Mark while laughing his loud, full-bellied laugh at something Mark had said

Mark avoided smoking around Renjun because he had said once that he didn’t enjoy the smell

And he had associated cigars to his absent father

So regardless of the heavy withdrawals he experienced, Mark eventually quit smoking altogether because Renjun was less likely to recoil from a hug if he smelled more like sweat than if he smelled of burnt nicotine

Mark thought that maybe this was Renjun making him better (the same way Winwin had made Yuta better)

This made Mark think "Ah yes, he's the one"

But he wasn’t

He knew he wasn’t because of one night where Mark invited Renjun to his dorm to watch a movie over some beer and popcorn

They watched Love, Rosie, because Renjun wanted something cheesy to cringe to

They weren’t cringing though

Instead, they had the lights dimmed and the movie set to a low volume as they seriously talked about what could’ve happened if Rosie and Alex had just confessed to each other sooner

Hearing Renjun’s thoughts made Mark want to confess his love for him sooner too

And it was a little deeper into the night when Mark was on his 5th bottle and Renjun was on his 3rd that Mark found himself staring at Renjun’s side profile

He allowed himself this moment to trace the boy’s features

From the soft curve of his eyebrow down to his dainty ears and his perfectly carved out jaw that was hidden underneath a smooth expanse of unblemished skin

When Mark looked up again, Renjun was staring back

A moment passed where Mark’s heart felt like it was trying to jump out of his chest

And then he was leaning in and kissing Renjun on the lips

It wasn’t rough or passionate

It was slow and all-encompassing

All sighs and deep breathes before a gentle brush of parted lips

Renjun ended up on Mark’s lap, his eyebrows furrowed and his eyes closed like he was scared to know if this was real or not

But he knew it was real because he was holding unto Mark’s shoulders for dear life while Mark held him gently by the waist

Renjun sleeps over at Mark’s that night but they didn’t go beyond soft kisses and lips against smooth skin

Mark thought it was perfect

But when Mark wakes up the next day, Renjun had left him a note on his bedside table that said

“Please, let’s not talk about last night.”

So they don’t

Because when they meet again, Jaemin was all wide smiles and sparkling teeth

“I finally got the courage to ask Renjun out, and he said yes!”

Mark tries his best to forget about his crush on Renjun because he still wanted him around and because he couldn’t ruin his friendship with Jaemin

Even if he couldn’t rest his hand on his lower back or press gentle kisses on his forehead, having him around was enough

Mark tells himself that this is enough

Seeing Renjun happy, even if it was in the arms of another, is enough

Renjun’s presence and his friendship is enough

It was Mark that wasn’t enough

MARKJEN - “the rebound”

Mark wasn’t enough for Renjun and Jeno wasn’t enough for Jaemin even when they both gave their all for the other

Mark still avoided smoking around Renjun but without the boy teetering him down his withdrawals became too hard to resist

So he allowed himself a butt or two whenever he was out, drinking his sorrows away with Jeno

Jaemin and Renjun’s relationship became their common denominator and they decided, after multiple bottles of whiskey and gin, that they should fall into bed with one another

Sex with Jeno was surprisingly rough and fast-paced

There was no love there; just calloused hands on his body and teeth marking his tanned skin

And a battle for dominance which Jeno was surprisingly unwilling to relinquish

After having been emotionally used by Jaemin for years, something snapped in Jeno that made him refuse to bend over for anyone ever again

And Mark, after having Renjun take everything he could give, was happy to let Jeno take the reigns and give it to him harder than anyone else ever did

They didn’t fall in love with one another

They never shared gentle kisses or whispered sweet things to one another

But between them bloomed a strong friendship that helped patch the emptiness in their hearts and anchored them back to the ground all the way until graduation

MARKHYUCK (2) - “it was you all along”

Of all the people Mark thought he’d meet on the bus, he didn’t expect Donghyuck to drop unto his lap (quite literally) during his commute home

After suffering multiple heartaches throughout his years in college, Mark thought himself too old to believe in fate or soulmates

He instead believed in the art that is hooking up with strangers he would meet at bars (Ten liked to call it “going back to his roots”)

(Not that Ten had any right to speak when he and Johnny were getting hitched in two month’s time)

But meeting Hyuck had him thinking that maybe fate wasn’t all just a can of baloneys

Even after Donghyuck had quite literally fallen unto Mark’s lap, he still had the audacity to get mad at the older boy for sitting in that particular seat that he could’ve fallen into without incident

And Mark could barely believe his ears at the words

Donghyuck was still just as brash and rude as he was when they were in high school

But the mischief in his eyes was aged, more mature, and less childish

Clearly, he's seen and experienced things and grown up a little

Even if it wasn't obvious

Perhaps they shared a few experiences between them?

Mark didn't have time to ponder on this as he was completely stunned to silence

Mark got up from his seat and offered it to the angry boy, who wasn’t really all that angry to begin with because he didn't know what else to do

Donghyuck was hesitant but he eventually sat down on the chair that Mark offered

It was the wrong decision though as Mark decided to stay rooted to his spot, right beside the seat, a little rigid and causing Hyuck some intense discomfort

Mark stared down at Donghyuck who was getting red from all the attention

After barking out a “what?” Mark asked the first thing that was on his mind

“Do you want to get some coffee with me?”

Of course, Donghyuck was taken aback

But the guilt of having stolen Mark’s seat and STILL acting rude despite all of that made Hyuck turn away with a blush high on his cheeks and a silent “sure” falling from his lips

The silent 'sure' that made a smile blossom on Mark’s face so Donghyuck didn’t really mind (to him, Mark was still as handsome as he remembered)

They stop by the first Starbucks they see and sit down to catch up

Mark finds out that Hyuck had just started working at the same company he and Johnny worked at

Donghyuck was also scheduled to move into the same apartment complex Mark lived in–albeit on a higher floor

Something pleasant wriggled inside Mark at the knowledge that he could potentially be spending more time with Hyuck depending on what department he'll be working in

He was pretty fucking convinced that it was fate paying him back for all the years of heartache he endured

Mark quickly offers Donghyuck his assistance for the move but the younger of the two quickly rejects, telling him that he was plenty capable of doing it on his own

Mark wanted to argue further but he feared it would scare Hyuck away, so he let it be and simply settled with buying the boy jjajangmyeon to celebrate getting his own place

They quickly become close friends after that and Mark takes Hyuck as his + 1 for Johnny and Ten's wedding

Mark decides that slow and steady was a good move for him and Hyuck

But what he didn’t anticipate happening was Donghyuck meeting Jeno at the wedding and seemingly becoming infatuated with the other boy

Mark was starting to think that life was a bit too unfair to him as he watched Hyuck and Jeno become fast friends

He wanted to scream and retaliate

And tell Jeno to stick to his lane as he was already flirting with Jisung anyway

But instead, Mark runs away wanting to spare himself another heartache

And Hyuck was left to stand there, baffled by Mark's sudden inattention

LUMARK - “it’s not me, it’s him.”

In a desperate attempt to forget about Hyuck, Mark starts sleeping around once again and meets Lucas

He was a boy his age who he likened to a giant puppy

A puppy he definitely shouldn't have met at a gay bar because he was much too kind for his own good

Lucas is as sweet to him as life is cruel

On the first night they met, Lucas had bought him a drink, danced with him on the dance floor, patted his back while he hurled into a toilet from drinking too hard, and then let him cry on his shoulder after bringing him back home (supposedly to make out so more but that didn't exactly go as planned)

A week later and Mark finds himself getting picked up after work every single day

He walks him home, regularly takes him out for dinner dates, and even asks him if he wanted to move in after his lease was up

All within a month of dating him

Once again Mark finds himself thinking that maybe Lucas is the one even if he knows very well that he didn't deserve the giant puppy

He couldn’t deny, however, that the relationship fell short

Lucas was very kind about this and asked Mark if maybe there was someone else

Technically there wasn’t

But really... there was

Because Mark couldn’t get the thought of Donghyuck out of his head

Mark blurts this out one night but hastily explains to Lucas that nothing is going in between him and Hyuck

Mark could never cheat on anyone after suffering so badly with Yuta

And Mark hasn't really been out to see a lot of his friends since he met Lucas (mostly to avoid Hyuck) so he didn't really have the time to cheat on him

He will just try harder to love Lucas as much as Lucas loved him is what Mark says

But all Lucas says in response is “I am not Donghyuck, and that's okay."

MARKHYUCK (3) - “say yes”

After the relatively peaceful breakup with Lucas (who agrees that they should at least remain friends), Mark is once again alone in the world

Mark and Donghyuck still work for the same company and still go home to the same apartment complex

But where Mark used to have Lucas pick him up and walk him home, he now had no one to spare him the uncomfortable small talk that Hyuck has insisted they have

“What happened to Lucas?”

“We broke up.”

“Oh.”

“What happened to Jeno?”

“He’s with Jisung.”

“Oh!”

Mark was clearly taken aback as he knew Jeno used to flirt with Jisung long before he even met Hyuck

Shouldn’t having them hang out make Donghyuck uncomfortable?

Just like before, Mark was deeply baffled by Hyuck’s behavior

“Is he not crushing on Jisung anymore?”

“He’s literally head over heels in love with him.”

“Then why’d you let them hang out?”

An uncomfortable silence envelops them that causes Mark to look up at Hyuck properly

“... cus they’re dating?”

Mark was confused by this

It’s true he hadn’t been with his friends in a while, completely focusing on Lucas and avoiding Donghyuck

But he couldn’t have possibly missed something this big

“I thought you and Jeno were dating? You two became so close after the wedding.”

This time it was Donghyuck who gave Mark a confused look (although his was laced with anger)

“Mark Lee you can’t be that fucking stupid! I was asking him to help me ask you out.”

A whirlwind of emotions washed over Mark as he stared at the angry boy in front of him

He found it more and more difficult to do anything BUT stare at Donghyuck; he just had that effect on him

He stared so hard that he didn’t realize they had reached their stop and that Donghyuck was getting off the bus

Mark allowed his body to move on autopilot as he helplessly followed Hyuck into their apartment building

As if he was watching his life pass by like a movie, Mark watched as Hyuck pressed (slammed) the button for his floor for him and allowed himself to be pushed out of the elevator when he had reached his supposed destination

But instead of walking to his apartment, Mark turned back around to the closed elevator and stared some more

When the elevator doors opened again to reveal one of his startled neighbors, Mark suddenly snaps out of his trance-like stupor

What the fuck was he doing out here?

As the moments before suddenly rush back to him, Mark makes a move for the elevator (even getting slammed between the doors as it was closing) to go to Hyuck’s apartment

He bangs on the door loudly, not bothering to put down his suitcase that was undoubtedly scuffing the wooden door

Donghyuck flings the door open angrily to yell at Mark but is instead cut off by the older boy’s voice

“What do you mean ask me out?”

Hyuck stared at Mark in disbelief for a moment before attempting to close the door on his face

Much to his delight and Donghyuck's anger, Mark’s reflexes were much faster than either of them knew and he easily pushes himself into the room to simply ask again

“Hyuck, what do you mean ask me out? You were going to ask me out?”

“Yes you big oaf, I was going to ask you out! But your stupidly small brain encased in that big forehead of yours decided to date Lucas before I even had the chance.”

Mark bites back a smile but ultimately fails as he backs Haechan further into the apartment

“Ask me now.”

“What?”

“Ask me out now.”

At this point, Donghyuck looks downright murderous but Mark pays him no heed as he keeps smiling down at Hyuck

“I’m not asking you out anymore, Mark Lee.”

“Then I’ll ask you.”

“No you won’t, I’ll say no.”

“Go out with me, Donghyuck.”

“No!”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t want to anymore!”

“Please?”

Hyuck stared up at the soft, pleading look on Mark’s face and feels himself crumble for a moment

So he turns away from temptation, a scowl deepening the lines on his face

Mark only follows his gaze and smiles back at Hyuck

He could see the younger boy's resolve breakaway but he also knew that Hyuck was a stubborn bitch

So finally, in a last-ditch attempt to get what he hoped will make them both happy, Mark decides to take Donghyuck’s hands in his and looks directly into his eyes

“I know I was a dick, Hyuck.. but please give me one more chance? Go out with me...”

Hyuck seemed like he was at a loss for words

The last of his dignity and his inflated ego had been chipped away and he felt like he was suddenly laid bare in front of Mark

Completely and 100% at his mercy

So instead of dignifying Mark’s begging with a response, he looks away once more and gives him a curt nod

The small affirmation, however, lights up Mark’s face and he hurriedly throws his arms around Hyuck and pulls him into a tight hug before spinning him around once (completely ignoring the shrieking it caused)

When Mark pulls away, Donghyuck's face is flushed red and he's scowling at him once more

But that didn’t dim Mark's smile at all

Instead, he asks Hyuck if he could kiss him

And Donghyuck, of course, says yes

[trixicbean]

supercorp + kryptonian: part two (part one)

@whyshedisappeared i saw this and screamed. someone wants my headcanons on kryptonian and i have so many!! *cracks knuckles* let's go!

i. how did lena propose?

we all know this business bitch is a literal softie on the inside and will go above and beyond for the people she loves again and again so she was d r a m a t i c.

she would have a private proposal though. she would still ask kara in kryptonian, she didn't learn all of that for nothing, and she would definitely ask with a ring and a bracelet to respect kara's culture as supportive girlfriend(soon-to-be-wife)™.

lena would probably go to ask kara at about two or three homemade dinners but chicken out last minute everytime. kara doesn’t clue in though because she is oblivious and just thinks lena’s being extra romantic and cute. alex, sam, nia, j’onn, jess, kelly and even brainy figure it out.

lena starts to get so nervous that it takes alex marching into her office, with the support of jess and sam and yelling “I swear to God that if you don’t ask her soon, I am going to take that ring and ask her for you and she would say ‘yes’ because she doesn’t care as long as she gets to marry you!”

lena goes home that night and bribes noonans to let her order in everything on their appetiser menu and then recreates that day in their kitchen. the only difference in the box that contained both a bracelet and a ring that lay in her pocket.

kara gets home and is a little confused and panics because she thinks she has forgotten an anniversary (a thing completely unheard of because kara still celebrates the anniversary of lena’s first game night by half-years). she concedes to lena’s (slightly overused) excuse that she just wanted to spoil her and they have an amazing dinner where they largely reminisce about their relationship and life together then it goes onto their future.

it’s organic and everything is right so lena launches into the speech that she regrets not preparing beforehand. “I want to spend every second of my life with you,” she starts by admitting, reaching a hand across the now empty table for kara’s, “You came into my life and it was like I could see colour for the first time. You broke down my walls and for that I am so thankful. You, every single part of you, I love with every part of me. I cannot imagine my life without you in it,”.

by the time lena had started the third sentence of her speech kara had begun to catch on and was nodding violently as tears sprung to the back of her eyes. by the time lena was kneeling in front of her she could barely restrain the ‘yes’ till after lena had said the words “will you marry me?”.

kara had fallen to her knees in front of lena as lena slipped into kryptonian. “Ni ieiu chadahzh tiv raozh im :zhao pryn-voghynj. Khap kehpahzh El Mayarah zrhymokhush vot gehd,”. Your mom told me about the :zhao (Kryptonian word roughly translate to romantic love) bracelets. I had it engraved with Stronger Together.

kara was in full blown tears as lena slipped the bracelet onto her wrist and then a ring onto her finger as they both whispered ‘I love you’ in both kryptonian and english as though it had the power to express the true depth of their feelings.

they had a wedding on earth with their english vows and a few whispered words of kryptonian and a ceremony on argo in kryptonian.

ii. did they teach their kids kryptonian?

yes!! kara is more against it to begin with. they can’t take their kids to argo until they are five anyway cs space travel is difficult on the body and you don’t want to fight with the overprotective parents that are a Super and a Luthor. she wants their kids to be normal on earth but lena is committed to creating a safe space for every part of their children. she gently coaxes kara onto her side with lots of love and a speech about accepting every part of herself and that she doesn’t have to hide and their children shouldn’t.

they end up speaking a combination of both of the languages around their kids from the moment they are born and when their kids start to talk it’s a combination of the two languages and they are a little confused but they figure it out and by the age of one-and-a-half they are all bilingual and switch between them with relative ease.

iii. do they speak both english and kryptonian at home?

yes but more kryptonian. thanks mostly to lena in the role of supportive wife/mother™, their home is a kryptonian safe haven. powers aren’t limited and everything is reinforced to avoid accidents. All the furniture, doors and everything in the house has nth metal lining so it can’t be broken.

walls have secret foam padding and so do ceiling (especially in the kids bedrooms after a few sleep-floating incidents (they don’t have lena holding them down at night)). they have red sun lamps in every room which can be turned on if they ever need a break and the garden has tall trees to shelter from neighbours so they can have flying practice.

iv. did kara teach lena more alien languages that she knows?

yes yes yes. lena luthor-danvers, national city’s resident geek begged kara to teach her every language she knows. she’d run out of earth languages. literally, she learnt every one, even ancient ones, in fits of boredom or in case they ever became useful. (lena luthor-danvers, resident geek was very smug when her fluency in ancient egyptian came in useful while solving a DEO case)

[wonderfulworldofmichaelford]

Psycho Analysis: Lucifer/Satan

(WARNING! This analysis contains SPOILERS!)

Please allow me to introduce this villain. He’s a man of wealth and taste...

Satan, or Lucifer, or whatever of the hundreds of names across multiple religions, folk tales, urban legends, movies, books, songs, video games, and more that you choose to call him, is without a doubt the biggest bad of them all. He is not just a villain; he is the villain, the bad guy your other bad guys answer to, the lord of Hell. If there’s a bad deed, he’s done it, if there’s a problem, he’s behind it. There’s nothing beneath him, and that’s not just because he’s at the very bottom of Hell. He is the root cause of all the misery in the entire world.

And if we’re talking about Satan, we gotta talk about Lucifer too. They weren’t always supposed to be one and the same, but over centuries of artistic depictions and reimaginings they’ve been conflated into one being, a being that is a lot more layered and interesting than just a simple adversary for the good to overcome when handled properly.

Motivation/Goals: Look, it’s Satan. His main goal is to be as evil as possible, do bad things, cause mischief and mayhem. Rarely does anything good come from Satan being around. If he is one and the same as Lucifer, expect there to be some sort of plot about him rebelling against God, as according to modern interpretations Lucifer fought against God in battle and was then cast out, falling from grace like lightning. When the Lucifer persona is front and center, raging against the heavens tends to be a big part of his schemes, but when the big red devil persona is out and about, expect temptations to sin, birthing the Antichrist, or tempting people to sell their souls.

Performance: Satan has been portrayed by far too many people over the years to even consider keeping count of, though some notable performances of the character or at least characters who are clearly meant to be Satan include the nuanced anti-villain take of the character Viggo Mortensen portrayed in The Prophecy; the sympathetic homosexual man portrayed by Trey Parker in South Park and its film; the hard-rocking badass Dave Grohl portrayed in Tencaious D’s movie; Robin Hughes as a sneaky, double-crossing bastard in “The Howling Man” episode of The Twilight Zone; the big red devil from Legend known as Darkness, played by Tim Curry; the shapeshifting angel named Satan from The Adventures of Mark Train who will make you crap your pants; and while not portrayed by anyone due to being entirely voiceless, Chernabog from Disney’s Fantasia is definitely noteworthy in regards to cinematic depictions of the devil.

Final Thoughts & Score: Satan is a villain whose sheer scope dwarfs almost every other villain in history. It’s not even remotely close, either; Satan pops up in stories all around the world, is the greater-scope villain of most varieties of three major religions, and his very name is shorthand for “really, really evil.” Every other villain I have ever discussed and reviewed wishes they could be a byword for being bad to the bone. Even Dracula, one of the single most important villains in fiction, looks puny in comparison to Satans villainous accomplishments.

Satan in old religious texts tended to be an utterly horrifying force of nature, until Medieval times began portray him as a dopey demon trying to tempt the faithful (and failing). Folklore and media have gone back and forth, portraying both in equal measure – you have the desperate, fiddle-playing devil from “The Devil Went Down to Georgia” and the unseen, unfathomable Satan who may or may not exist in the Marvel comics universe who other demons live in fear of the return of. Satan is just a very interesting and malleable antagonist, one who is defined just enough that he can make a massive, formidable force while still being enough of a blank slate that you can project any sort of personality traits onto him to build an intriguing foe.

One of the most famous examples of this in action is the common depiction of Satan as the king of hell. This doesn’t really have much basis in religion; he’s as much a prisoner as anyone else, though considering how impressive a prisoner he is, he’d be like the big guy at the top of the pecking order in any jail for sure. But still, the idea of Satan as the ruler of hell was clearly conceived by someone and proved such an intriguing concept that so many decided to run with it.

I think that’s what truly makes Satan such an interesting villain, in that he’s almost a community-built antagonist. People over the ages have added so much lore, personality, and power to him that is only vaguely alluded to in old religions to the point where they have all become commonplace in depictions of the big guy, and there really isn’t any other villain to have quite this magnitude on culture as a whole. It shouldn’t be any shock that Satan is an 11/10; rating him any lower would be a heinous crime only he is capable of.

But see, the true sign of how amazing he is is the sheer number of ways one can interpret him. You have versions that are just vague embodiments of all that is bad and unholy, such as Chernabog from Fantasia, you have more nuanced portrayals like the one Viggo Mortensen played in The Prophecy, you have outright sympathetic ones like the one from South Park… Satan is just a villain who can be reshaped and reworked as a creator sees fit and molded into something that fits the narrative they want. I guess what I’m trying to say is that not only is Lucifer/Satan one of the greatest villains of all, he’s also one of the single greatest characters of all time.  

Now, there are far too many depictions of Satan for me to have seen them all, but I have seen quite a lot. Here’s how Old Scratch has fared over the millennia in media of various forms, though keep in mind this is by no means a comprehensive or exhaustive lsit:

“The Devil Went Down to Georgia” Devil: 

I think this is one of my favorite devils in any fiction ever, simply because of what a good sport he is. Like, there is really no denying that Johnny’s stupid little fiddle ditty about chickens or whatever sucks major ass, and yet Satan (who had moments before summoned up demonic hordes to rip out some Doom-esque metal for the contest) gave him the win and the golden fiddle. What a gracious guy! He’s a 9/10 for sure, though I still wish we knew how his rematch ended…

Chernabog: 

Chernabog technically doesn’t do anything evil, and he never says a word, and yet everything about him is framed as inherently sinister. It’s really no wonder Chernabog has become one of the most famous and beloved parts of Fantasia alongside Yen Sid and Sorcerer Mickey; he’s infinitely memorable, and really, how can he not be? He’s the devil in a Disney film, not played for laughs and instead made as nightmarishly terrifying as an ancient demon god should be. Everything about him oozes style, and every movement and gesture begets a personality that goes beyond words. Chernabog doesn’t need to speak to tell you that he is evil incarnate; you just know, on sight, that he is up to no good.

Quite frankly, the implications of Chernabog’s existence in the Disney canon are rather terrifying. Is he the one Maleficent called upon for power? Is he the one all the villains answer to? Do you think Frollo saw him after God smote him? And what exactly did he gain by attacking Sora at the end of Kingdom Hearts? All I know for sure is that Chernabog is a 10/10.

Lucifer (The Prophecy): 

Viggo Mortensen has limited screentime, but in that time he manages to be incredibly creepy, misanthropic… and yet, also, on the side of good. Of course, he’s doing it entirely for self-serving reasons (he wants humanity around so he can make them suffer), but credit where credit is due. The man manages to steal a scene from under Christopher Walken, I think that’s worth a 10/10.

Satan (South Park): 

Portraying Satan as a sympathetic gay man was a pretty bold choice, and while he certainly does fall into some stereotypes, he’s not really painted as bad or morally wrong for being gay, and ends up more often than not being a good (if sometimes misguided) guy who just wants to live his life. Plus he gets a pretty sweet villain song, though technically it’s more of an “I want” song than anything. Ah well, a solid 8/10 for him is good.

Satan (Tenacious D):

It’s Dave Grohl as Satan competing in a rock-off against JB and KG. Literally everything about this is perfect, even if he’s only in the one scene. 10/10 for sure.

Robot Devil:

Futurama’s take on the devil is pretty hilarious and hammy, but then Futurama was always pretty on point. He’s a solid 8/10, because much like South Park’s devil he gets a fun little villain song with a guest apearance by the Beastie Boys, not to mention his numerous scams like when he stole Fry’s hands. He’s just a fun, hilarious asshole.

The Howling Man: 

The Twilight Zone has many iconic episodes, and this one is absolutely one of them. While the devil is the big twist, that scene of him transforming as he walks between the pillars is absolutely iconic, and was even used by real-life villain Kevin Spacey in the big reveal of The Usual Suspects. This one is a 9/10 for sure, especially given the ending that implies this will all happen again (as per usual with the show).

The Darkness:

While he’s more devil-adjacent than anything and is more likely to be the son of Satan rather than the actual man himself, it’s hard not to give a shout-out to the big, buff demon played by Tim Curry in some of the most fantastic prosthetics and makeup you will ever see. He gets a 9/10 for the design alone, the facty he’s Tim Curry is icing on the cake.

[cesabutterflywrites]

AU where Carlisle was there to help Bella give birth and Jacob doesn't imprint on Renesmee

[Ao3] Word Count:  2056

Carlisle takes Renesmee and cleans her up while Edward does his venom thing and Jacob does his keeping Bella's heart beating thing. Literally nothing changes in that except-

-----

Jacob gives up. Bella's dead. He goes downstairs to kill that thing. His heart was pounding in time with each thought. He needed to destroy it. The thing that no one sees for what it really is. It's not a baby. It's not a person. They really thought Bella was so expendable? They had all fallen victims to it’s manipulation. 

He slowly walks up to where it is. Blondie is cooing at it. Of course, she probably wanted to play Mom the most. Esme is sitting next to her. She is holding some sort of metal container. Jacob pauses. He doesn't want to hurt Esme too.

Carlisle comes from behind him holding a pouch of blood. Human blood that was meant to save lives, not feed a demon. He eyes Jacob's face with a hint of suspicion.

"She's going to be okay, Jacob." Ugh, why did he have to sound so sure? Doctors are always smug about that stuff, Jacob thought angrily.

But Carlisle isn't smug. He seems to genuinely think Bella will make it. "Edward has her. She'll pull through for him, if not anyone else."

Even with Bella dead, Jacob's heart stings. He reluctantly pulls his eyes away from the women cooing at what looks like a pile of blankets. He’s torn. Helplessly he looks back to Carlisle, unsure of what he needs to do. Carlisle's eyes are dark as night, but they still hold the same kindness that he always showed.

Jacob deflates. Once again he knows he can't hurt Carlisle. He falls to his knees as he can't stand anymore. Tears that burn like acid fall to the floor without his consent. "It's not fair!" he cries out. His voice roars out a cry that’s filled with months of grief from every time he’s lost Bella.

Carlisle walks a few steps to hand Esme that blood. Jacob knows he’s alone. So he’s surprised when suddenly ice cold hands that burn grip him under his arms to help him stand up. "Let's take a walk."

Carlisle doesn't have to walk with him. There is a new thing in the world that just killed his daughter in law, a small part in Jacob's mind tells him. The part feels so far away it's screams are nothing but a whisper.

Seth tries to approach them, but when they look into each other's eyes he backs off. Jacob wonders what he looks like to the young wolf.

Carlisle and him just walk down a path behind the house. Jacob stays quiet, scared that he’ll make that awful sound again,  while Carlisle speaks to him gently. His mind feels like it’s filling up with cotton, but the doc speaks in a way that still gets through to him.

"I know you want to kill her, Jacob, but do you think you can kill something that is so much like Bella? Are you capable of that?" Why isn’t Carlisle accusing him? Why isn’t he mad? 

"It's not Bella..." Jacob hears himself respond. Why is he whispering? He’s supposed to be shouting.

"You're right, my apologies." Carlisle stops walking. He turns to face Jacob. "I got a good look at her. She's extraordinary. More human than vampire from what I was able to tell."

There are no words. The cotton had filled him up too much. Bella is dead. There’s no human to be passed down anymore.

He just lets Carlisle talk. He can't stand anymore, though, so he just sits on the ground in defeat. He doesn’t care that his shorts are now covered in mud.

Then, to his surprise, Carlisle sits in the mud with him.

He grins when Jacob looks baffled. "Don't tell Alice," he winks. The playful mood leaves as soon as it comes. "I won't tell you to leave. I won't tell you to let go of your anger. You still have a place with us as long as you need it. I just have one request."

Request. Just like Bella requested and begged for Jacob to stay? "What?" The part of him that’s far away is angry at the audacity that he’s being asked to give more. Doesn’t Carlisle see how empty Jacob is?

"Just look at her. Try to see her now that she's outside of Bella."

"You know I can't do that," Jacob chokes out. Hot tears blur his vision again, along with that familiar anger that had been with him for what now felt like forever. "It killed her."

"We don't know for sure." Carlisle replies calmly.

Jacob shoots up. "No!"

Carlisle just looks up at him. He doesn't stand up. Why won't he stand up too?

"So you'd go against what Bella wants? If she does die, will disrespect her wishes like that?"

"No! I won't kill it yet," Jacob knows as he speaks that he won't go through with it. He probably wasn’t ever going to. "But I'll be damned if I look at that thing! It’s evil."

----

Jacob wasn't that surprised that Bella pulled through after all. For now, that distant part told him, her heart will stop beating again.

He still hadn't looked at Renesmee. Seriously, that was its name? It was a truly awful name. Probably fitting, considering how awful it was for killing its own mother. 

Everyone was wrapped around it’s fingers. Even Alice had pulled through. Everyone had kissed it goodbye probably twenty times each before they left to go hunt. 

Jacob hadn't turned back into a wolf yet to go talk to Sam. He didn't know why. It was like he knew if he phased that he wouldn't be able to come back, and he wanted to wait to see what would happen to Bella. Even with her turning into a monster he still seemed unable to let her go.

Leah and Seth were handling things okay. Seth was giving him updates on the hourly, even if there wasn’t much to report. Though it quickly became apparent that he was just looking for excuses to say hi to the ‘baby’. 

Seth and Carlisle came into the living room. Carlisle was holding Renesmee. The doctor looked like he was more of a dad than he actually was. Jacob guessed it made sense. He looked too young to be a dad to all these ‘teenagers’. 

Carlisle sat next to him on the couch. Jacob automatically looked away from Renesmee. He didn’t need to look at it to know about it. He heard the doc and the others talking about it. He knew it had a heartbeat. He knew it was growing quicker than normal. He knew all about its ability to touch someone and share it’s thoughts. 

What a twisted version of mind control, Jacob thought. 

“Jake, you sure you don’t wanna see her?” Seth asked for the hundredth time. “She’s beautiful.” 

“It’s okay, Seth.” Carlisle told him gently. “Jacob needs time. This is very hard for him.” 

Bella’s heart upstairs skipped a beat. Jacob listened for any shuffling. Still nothing. She hadn’t moved at all. If it weren’t for her fighting heartbeat, Jacob would have thought she really did die from how still she’d been. 

Carlisle sighed. “I’m going to  check on Bella. Seth, do you mind?” 

“Nope! Come here, baby.” Seth’s voice raised in pitch. He was using a stupid voice that adults used to talk to babies and puppies. “Hi, Renesmee. How are you? Huh? You feeling ready for a nap?” 

“Ugh, Seth, can’t you take that to another room? I’m trying to watch TV.” He was lying. The only thing on TV was some stupid baking show. 

Seth’s grin didn’t waver. “Good. I wanted to show the baby TV too…” 

“There are a million other TVs, Seth!” Jacob snapped. Why was he being more annoying than usual? 

The thing in Seth’s arm squawked. He heard a sniffle, then after a beat, suddenly it started crying. 

“Oh, no no Renesmee, don’t cry!” Seth worried. He switched back to his baby voice. “Wanna do some bounces?” Seth started bouncing up and down on his toes. 

Seth started walking back and forth while the thing’s cries grew louder. “Uhh, Jake?” 

Jacob stood up. The cries were pounding against his entire body. He felt his fists starting to quiver. He was tempted to just leave early if this is what was going to happen. “What?!” 

“She wants you,” Seth told him. Jacob, with no control over his eyes, looked to see a white hand pressing against Seth’s cheek. The cries were repeating, sounding like whimpers. 

“Ah, ah, aaaah!”

Jacob, bewildered, looked further down to see Renesmee’s face for the first time. 

She was bigger than he expected. He had heard everyone whispering about her fast growth rate. He still wasn’t prepared. She was round. Her face was growing redder while tears rolled down her cheeks. Her small mouth was open to show teeth! Like, a full kid’s set. She was wearing a little blue baby dress. She  opened her eyes to suck in another breath and Jacob let out a noise that was foreign to his ears. 

She had Bella’s eyes. 

She must have been as shocked as he was that he was finally looking at her. Her shouts wore down to hiccups. Without warning, she turned her body to reach out towards Jacob. Seth looked like he was about to lose hold, and without thinking Jacob reached out to stop her from falling. 

She was warm! Nearly the same temperature as him. Jacob’s thoughts were too jumbled to make sense. Like he wasn’t thinking in words, but in foreign images. For a moment he thought he saw his own face, but there was an expression he had never seen before, like a mixture of awe and sadness. 

“What’s she showing you?” Carlisle asked from behind him. Jacob jumped, and suddenly fully had Renesmee in his arms. How had he not heard the doc come down the stairs? 

“Show- showing me?” Jacob asked. He looked down at Renesmee to see that she was resting her small hand on his shoulder. She was smiling, though there were still tears staining her face. At least she wasn’t sniffling or hiccupping anymore. 

Jacob slowly reached his hand toward her face. He felt, more than heard, Carlisle and Seth suck in a breath. Tentatively he used the back of his index finger to wipe the wetness off of her cheek. Her skin was soft. She looked adoringly at him. Like she had found a shiny new toy. No, it was more than that. 

The smile on her face was the same smile Bella had whenever she’d see him. 

It was too much, but not enough. He hugged her to his chest. This wasn’t an evil demon. This was Bella’s daughter. This baby in his arms was the last remaining piece of Bella’s humanity. She was an entirely new piece to the puzzle that seemed to fit into their crazy life. She was Bella, she was herself. She was just a child.

He looked up to see Carlisle grinning at him. 

“She’s just a baby!” He let out a laugh, which turned into sobs. “I don’t- What-” he couldn’t complete his sentences. 

He saw an image of his crying face suddenly, tinged with curiosity that wasn’t his. He looked down to see the baby’s eyebrows crinkled. She looked just like Bella when she would worry about him. Her brown eyes were wide with innocent curiosity, so untainted with the worries of the storm around her. 

“I think I’m okay.” He told her, not sure how well she understood. 

Carlisle reached for Renesmee. “I have to measure her again.” 

Jacob was surprised to feel that he was reluctant to give her over. Though she made the decision for him by rolling over to reach for Carlisle. She did glance back at him once more before she left.

Carlisle took her promptly. He smiled down at her, then looked up again at Jacob. “How are you?” 

Jacob shook his head. The cotton feeling was dissipating until all that was left was raw confusion mixed with deep awe. “I don’t know.” He didn’t know. Everything was changed even though nothing was different.  

“That’s okay, Jake,” Seth piped in. He patted Jacob’s shoulder. “She has that effect on people.” 

So she does, Jacob thought. “So she does,” he echoed his thoughts out loud.