#status as a serial killer. yeah its fucked up but its definitely not out of the realm of possibility

[infizero]

stumbles out of we solved fnaf and we're not kidding covered inblood

[lunchador]

ok but!!! what happened!!! im screaming!!! you finished the game but there are no details!!! friend i need details!!! who sided with who!!!! im just!!! so excited about ur playthru and i need any and all details about how u feel about anders rn especially!!! i think there was less different paths because funding but i still would like to Know

 SO!! MUCH!! HAPPENED!!

It was funny, cuz, y’know, in comparison to DA:O where the END OF THE WORLD is hanging above your head at all times, I felt the pacing was considerably more relaxed in 2. And in retrospect, it definitely was building up in ways you weren’t quite piecing together (Or am I dumb? That’s usually the case) as you aren’t even sure why you have the derogatory title from cassandras mouth of Champion. Champion, of fuckin what? I do chores for people.

So like most of the game feels like you’re chilling. Talk to some people, do some small quests, learn some lore.

Then like, the qunari attack happened. Which, I assume happens regardless, correct? Man that statue of me looks douchey as hell. Flaming sword?

ANDERS CAN SUCK SHIT. That fucker lied to me? and made everything OH SO MUCH FUKIN WORSE. Oh boohoo I want to rid justice, distract her so I can MURDER PEOPLE ACTUALLY INSTEAD?? Like, MAN, I really like him on paper, healer of the needy, activist, cat lover. But he is so warped in his thinking and self hate. Also I know I joked about this somewhere but our second conversation ever (first one being when I met him) he gives me a big speech about how he could see us together but how he’s so bad he’s a monster boohoo so i need to stay away from him romantically and I’m standing there like.......yeah ok man. 

I SHOULD HAVE KILLED HIM - I was legit SO mad he did that. Everything was bad as is, and he made it worse. If I hadn’t have helped in that quest would it still have happened? AUGH. Almost everyone wanted him dead but I still felt bad. Of the companions, I think i bonded with him and sebastian the least. I tried really hard to side with the mages, cuz, i’m a mage, i dont think magic is bad but bad people can have magic, and Meredith IS a dick and instigated it, BUT THERE IS SO FUCKING MUCH BLOOD MAGIC IN KIRKWALL, WHY.

AND FUCKIN SEBASTIAN - SO MAD - was like if you let him live i’m coming back with an army to attack. like...bro what happened to being a peaceful monk or whatever the shit? I thought I told you taking the crown wasn’t worth it if you don’t want it? fuckin jude law looking motherfucker. But i barely played with him and i figured anders healing would be useful for the end. so, i took anders with me. So now I guess I’m gonna hear in inquisition about this dude coming in to attack kirkwall later idk SIGH

So yeah, I tried to side with Orison. Then that bitch ass gave in to blood magic too and turned into that disgusting abomination. I HATE when you try to defend someone and they too turn into a jackass. Fuck you, man. And Meredith of course is off her rockers with red lyrium. I hate all of these people. I tried to save the decent mages where I could and that bit me in the ass with one of them at the end FUCK YOU, UNGRATEFUL.

A N Y W A Y S,

since I’m sooooooo good at these games (how am I so so so bad??) Hawke basically...lost everyone. I didn’t officially romance anyone. Though in the epilogue, it says everyone eventually splits from Hawke except Isabela. I figured she had a soft spot for me. I think I couldn’t fully romance her because I didn’t get her the boat? Idk. I didn’t like the romance system in this game. Like, yes it makes sense for story plot reasons but it’s terribly confusing for someone not in the know and I hated looking at guides because they had spoilers.

My mom got murdered by a serial killer blood mage, r.i.p. My sister is dead. I am SO surprised Carver sided with me in the end. I thought he was genuinely about to pick being a templar over me and fight. I TRIED TO BE SO NICE TO THAT FUCKER.

i’m surprised cullen sided with me too. the few interactions you have with him in origins and here he’s kind of a dick. and i know all that shit going on with his VA so i am not stoked for him in inquisition

I tried/failed to romance Fenris. Man, I got SO attached to him?? He tries so hard to be grumpy but you get under his skin. Every time he called me his friend or smiled I was like YES, YOU FUCKER, YOU LIKE ME. But being a mage is such a cockblock. FUCK. I’m definitely kissing him next time.  But I can at least brag that I guess I did his companion quest correctly enough and he was maxed out cuz he didn’t leave me. He seemed begruding that he was gonna defend mages but he was gonna do it for ME. BFFs til the end.

how the fuck did fenris turn around and settle for compromise while anders was still pissy as hell? I guess anders just feels so much for others. also the whole tranquil shit was sooo fucked. Also I love they’ve known each other for 6 years and they’re still disgustingly snippy with each other - FIGHT!!!!

MERRIL TRIED TO CONFESS FEELINGS FOR ME. HOW? I kept pissing her off by not supporting the blood mage shit. I HAD TO PULL THE LIKE A SISTER LINE. MERRIL IM SO SORRRRRRYYYYYYYYYYYY. She’s so sweet, yet her quest was incredibly fucked up oh my god?? We had to kill the dalish group and I FELT AWFUL. WHY SO MUCH BLOOD MAGIC????????

I thought this game was going to end with assigning a new viscount. ANd I was like man that sucks, Sid isn’t the type for permanent responsibility like that but like, if it’ll get everyone to shut the fuck up ok. But...that wasn’t the ending. I hope that gets addressed in inquisition? I felt like that kinda got cliffhanger’d. Also I’m assuming Aveline had to run too being she was associated with me so the guard is probably in shambles too.

oh my god what about dominic? D:

anyway, I would die for varric, and while I understand the story reasons for not letting him be romancable, it still sucks cuz he pairs SO well with a snarky Hawke, sigh

but yeah there may have been less big decisions but there certainly were a lot of smaller ones I felt I fucked up. I’m just.......so good at that. I got so many people KILLED.

def some replay value in there!! I tried to do a lot more sidequests in this one than origins. so we will see how inquisition goes. It’s been super hyped to me and I’m told it’s pretty long

Its just crazy all the shit hawke got caught up in without even particularly trying. Like the warden is there because, yeah, they’re a grey warden, one of the few, but in 2 its just kinda like..............oops lmfao.

[funtimebunnyblog]

Diamante d’Italia: Chapter 3

(Chapter 3: Strangers like me, Part 2)

Before Josuke knew what was happening, Moody Blues had sprung into action, swinging its own fists. Crazy Diamond was immediately there to match the others strength, Josuke had enough grasp on the situation at that point to tell his stand to hold back on its hit.

The force of air even brushed through the large poof of Josukes hair, causing him to flinch, but he was too focused on what was happening right now to care about that.

Two fists collided hard over both users heads, like an overcharged firstbump from two eager friends.

The display of force from the action was so strong it created a shockwave powerful enough to make the cutlery on the table dance.

It seemed as if everything around them was drowned out now. The sounds, the sights, the smells.

It seemed as if it were just Josuke and Abbacchio in the entire world, the latter murdering the former with a penetrating gaze.

"So..." his voice was low and held a dangerous bite to it, like a snake hiding in the grass, waiting to strike and kill. "You're a stand user, you little punk-shit."

Abbacchio was terrifying. Josukes insides felt as heavy as a bag of rocks and his stomach sunk like one being dropped in the ocean as he stared up at the older man in shock.

Abbacchio had gotten up from his chair but the teenager remained seated and the other was now looming right over him, his face set into a deep scowl, sunset valleys angrily burning into him.

Josuke leaned so far back in his chair he almost fell back onto the floor, trying to put as much distance between him and Leone as he could. He didn't expect the man to react so strongly.

Abbacchio balled his fists and reeled one back, the motion mirrored by Moody Blues and accompanied by another loud drawn out beep.

To his own horror, he realized the man had honestly been expecting him to attack at full force, like an ambush of some kind, and his poultry attitude was throwing him off.

"Woah! Woah!" He said, it was almost a whimper, throwing his hands up defensively in blind panic.

The murderous look staining Abbacchios face seemed to waver for a second, the hit never came thankfully, but Josuke could tell he was still holding his ground.

"I-I... I'm sorry-- I...." Josuke was sputtering, trying to uncleave his tongue from the roof of his mouth and speak clearly.

He knew if he didn't say something to pacify the other quickly, his Mother would be getting a death notification from a Police Officer instead of a phone call from a Hotel early tomorrow.

He clammed up suddenly, rambling only made things worse for him. The very reason why he got beat up more times at school than he could count on all his fingers.

"Yeah. Yeah. I-I'm a... a stand-user!"

'No shit dumbass! He knows that!' His thoughts screamed at him, sounding too much like Okuyasu in that moment.

"I... I didn't know if you could see them, I swear I didn't! I was just curious and--"

Welp.

He supposed he'd lived a full life.

Well... if you call living until 16, meeting your Father at long last, stealing his wallet and witnessing the death of a serial killer a full life that is.

If only he had been smart enough to write a will and maybe he could've left half his stuff to Okuyasu...

Leone Abbacchios raised fists shook as he forced them to lower back down and rest at his sides, he forced himself to take a couple deep breaths while he was at it.

Christ. What the Hell was he doing? Josuke looked very much like a kicked puppy right now (he was practically whimpering like one too).

He had watched the idiot get beat up by a group of bums desperate for their drug fix for crying out loud!

Josuke possessed a stand, he finally had that answer but if the poofy-haired nimrod wanted to hurt him at all, he would've done so already.

Jesus, the kid looked so very small in that moment, he looked like he was close to fucking tears.

Of course, Abbacchio would deny all claims those things tugged at his heartstrings like one would play a harp.

'Merda... I am getting soft.' Came the bitter thought as he grit his teeth.

Impressive, he had to give the kid that. It looked quite powerful. He had seen stands of all shapes and kinds at this point, kicked the asses of near to all of them but had never encountered one quite like this.

Abbacchio huffed, all defensiveness  in his body language slowly melting away and the intensity of his piercing gaze softened.

His eyes moved from the terrified teen to the colourful well-built stand directly beside him, making no move to attack but glaring at Abbacchio through the opening in its helmet.

"For a second there, I thought you were gonna try to paint the walls with me." He sighed, moving back to his previously abandoned chair and popped himself down into it.

Moody Blues gave a soft whir, floating closer to his side as he relaxed again.

"Relax." Abbacchio told him. "Being in my.... occupation, reacting like that has become a reflex."

Josuke blinked a few times, sighing in relief and sinking into his own chair as the realization he wasn't going to die before he turned 17 finally settled in.

Crazy Diamond rested one massive hand on their hip, but didn't disappear.

"Ah... sorry." He wore an uneasy smile as he apologized to this man yet again today. "Maybe I should've... asked instead?"

Heh, so his Mom was right. Old habits died hard.

Josuke found himself laughing nervously, silently thanking every possible deity out there that Abbacchio didn't beat him to a bloody pulp before realizing that.

Abbacchio rolled his eyes and offered him a half-hearted chuckle. The scenario probably wouldn't have been too different if he had gone that route instead in all honesty...

Abbacchio nodded, both their gazes fixed on the interaction now happening between their stands, neither one however paying any attention to their own.

Coming to his senses again, he found his gaze trailed to Moody Blues and felt awe wash over him. He admired their design, so sleek and completely androgynous in body, very much unlike his.

"You said their name was 'Moody Blues'?" He questioned.

Moody Blues had floated closer to the other, staring at Crazy Diamond with its unnatural holed eyes. There was some curiosity to be found in its featureless face as it beeped and whirred with some rhyme and reason to it, as if asking the larger stand if it was a friend.

" 'Blues here isn't much of a fighting stand." Abbacchio said, folding his arms and watching the scene with some amusement evident in his face. "But what they lack in battle they make up for uniqueness."

Crazy Diamond hadn't moved an inch from their spot next to Josuke and was standing absolutely motionless, so very silent an onlooker (if said onlooker could see them at all that is) could mistake them for a statue. Their face forever had a stern nature, mostly stoic on the norm, but there was definitely some emotion in its narrowed coral eyes.

They bowed their head simply, a slow acknowledging nod to the other stand, keeping their gaze fixated on them.

Josuke blinked in surprise, for someone as tough and scary as Abbacchio, he never would've guessed his stand wasn't a fighter.

His first impression of the man had been him kicking the shit out of someone after all.

"Oh." He said, he couldn't help feeling more intrigued.  "What do they do?"

Abbacchio paused and seemed to be considering his options, probably debating on whether he should be enlightened to know those things (Josuke knew he was still a stranger to him after all), before smirking.

"Watch." He said.

Finally, it stopped with a distinctive click. The numbers read 00:00:18:43.8

The Highschool student tilted his head, raising an eyebrow as the slim mauve figure froze up for a moment, standing straight and ascending right up over the table, landing in a seat directly across from the two of them.

The blank screen reminiscent of a digital alarm clock on the stands forehead started to fill up with numbers, Moody Blues made a sound like a VCR tape rewinding in a player the entire time.

Josuke nearly jumped in his chair as a noise much like a machine powering down sounded from the stand. Or more importantly, how their featureless face and body dissolved into another thing... no... another person entirely as it happened.

Sitting across from them now was no longer Moody Blues, but someone Josuke had never seen before.

They seemed around his age, sporting clothing colours similar to the ones on his own stand. The most notable thing being the hat on the boys head, an arrow pointing directly down to the  bridge of his nose. His hands were positioned in mid-air like he was holding cutlery and he wore a somewhat serious expression.

"--All I'm saying is, 3-wheel cars should make a comeback. Their design wasn't only cool but it would prevent a Hell of a lot of accidents! Just think about it! It would be for the greater good!.... hmm?.... No! I'm not being irrational!"

Another distinctive click sounded and Josuke watched in fascination as the numbers on the still visible clock began to wheel.

Abbacchio found himself sighing as Guido Mista continued his very long and very boring rant from last nights dinner.

The teenager stared, utterly captivated by the scene playing... no... replaying before him.

"You can... replay events?" He asked, his blue eyes huge and glittering like sapphires, unable to tear his gaze from the show Abbacchio was putting on.

"Sure can. As long as I'm in the right place." He replied, drumming his fingers against the table quite boredly (much like he had done last night as this was happening the first time), only half-listening to Mista continue to rant and rave, slapping the table and pointing fingers now.

"Is that one of the 'comrades' you mentioned earlier?" Now he turned to Abbacchio, giving him a sly smile.

"Yep. One of Four others." He grunted, secretly glad this version of Mista wouldn't suddenly turn on him and scream in his face about how its unlucky to even say that damned word (like it was fucking MacBeth or something). "He's... something. Maybe one day you'll have the displeasure of meeting him."

Josuke had to laugh at that, Abbacchio sounded so much more like an overly tired parent rather than a teammate to this other teenager.

"--Oh really? I'd like to see you try Narancia!" 'Mista' hissed, pointing a finger at the chair Josukes bag was currently occupying. "I'll kick your a--"

There was a click, just as he balled a fist and banged it on the table again, he was frozen in time.

"Another thing about 'Blues is when a replay is happening, you can track everything from the persons heart rate, to their perspiration and breathing patterns." He told him. "Better yet, you could track their brainwaves if you were a Doctor with the right equipment."

Sure he had friends with weird stands that possessed even weirder powers, but he never knew a stand could do something like this!

Josuke couldn't contain himself any longer and found himself jumping up out of his seat to slam his hands on the tables surface.

"Oh my God, that's so cool!" He cried out, stars were practically dancing in the Highschoolers eyes. "Both of things! All of those things!"

"How could I not be impressed?" He asked incredulously. "I wish I could do that!"

Abbacchio couldn't hold back the smirk on his face, raising a pointed eyebrow at his expressive companion in amusement.

"I take it you're impressed?"

He thought about everything he'd want to do if he had such a power. He thought about using the ability to see what his Father Joseph looked like way back when he met his Mom all those years ago. Or hell, even just replay the precious moments he spent with Joseph the first (also the last) time he saw him.

They watched as the form of Guido Mista dissolved completely, revealing the one true Moody Blues again. The stand emitted noises that reminded the Highschooler of a fax machine running, almost seeming like it was enjoying the praise Josuke was showing it.

"Like I said, my ability isn't very practical." Leone hummed, folding his arms and shrugging. "Sure it looks cool but I'm no help in battle."

His duel coloured eyes shifted to the one very strong and silent figure who still hadn't moved an inch.

Abbacchio tilted his chin up, "What about them?"

Josukes cheeks dusted coral pink to match the stand asked about, rubbing the back of his head as a shy smile tugged on his lips.

"Crazy Diamond? He fixes things." He said casually. "Anything from a destroyed building to a small hole in your clothes, he's got it patched."

If Crazy Diamond minded the attention, it made no outward signs of objection.

Abbacchio's eyebrows raised and nodded as he listened, studying the larger and more burly stand as the teenager talked.

Moody Blues, being nosy as always, had now floated back over the table and was hovering right next to the other stand, inspecting them much like its user.

Moody Blues was called back to the Goths side to give the other stand some breathing room to work.

"He's also just really strong. He could probably bench-press two cars if I asked him to." Josuke laughed a little, secretly enjoying bragging about his abilities to someone.

His smile went huge as he became visibly excited again. "I can give you a little preview of his powers if you want!"

"Knock yourself out."

There was a bright twinkle in the teens eye as he pushed his chair back, stepping out of it with a wide grin. Abbacchio spent a moment wondering what would happen.... however nothing on earth could've prepared the man at all for what did.

With a single thought from Josuke, Crazy Diamond slammed one massive fist down onto the center of the table, the legs collapsed underneath in an instant and the surface of it shattered like a plate hitting a hard concrete floor, ultimately breaking it.

It was fast.

Very fast.

Leone jumped in his chair, his own stand catching him as he nearly toppled out of his seat in utter shock.

But just as quickly as it broke, the pieces of the table rearranged itself and everything was as it should be. The restaurant hadn't even noticed the ruckus going on.

Abbacchio blinked rapidly, still gripping Moody Blues like a lifeline as his eyes darted between the others and the table, as if trying to piece together what the fuck he just witnessed.

Josukes smile disappeared for the fraction of a second as his companion sighed, slumping forward in his chair as a hand went to his face. Anxiety bubbled in the pit of his stomach fearing the man was pissed at him again... before seeing his shoulders start to shake.

Josuke and Crazy Diamond looked like the absolute picture of innocence, standing side by side. He could practically see the halo above the teenagers pompadoured head as he smiled at him, eagerly awaiting a response to his display.

Abbacchio swore he saw the tiniest smug grin on Crazy Diamonds face.

Leone Abbacchio broke out into laughter. His eyes squeezed shut and the biggest smile Josuke had seen on the man so far pulled on his face, showing his pearly white teeth. His body shook as he kept laughing and laughing, practically rocking in his chair.

"Jesus..." the man wheezed, gripping at his stomach that was feeling painfully tight from laughter, a hand going to his eye to swipe away a tear quickly before his mascara started to smudge. "I think my heart stopped."

He liked this kid.

He managed to compose himself again, however that small smile lingered on his face, "Very impressive. But next time, for the love of God, fix a damn teacup or something..."

Josuke considered doing something less extreme to demonstrate next, like bending a fork, before he noticed the waiter returning with their orders and hastily seated himself again.

Josuke blinked, his face glowing with embarrassment as he rubbed at the back of his head.

"Oh-- Oops..." he laughed. "I guess I got carried away there..."

Abbacchio supposed the mans timing couldn't have been better. He wasn't sure what he would do if he ended up witnessing a table being destroyed and magically repaired in the span of 2 seconds.

Bucciarati wouldn't be very happy if he caught word of a staff member of his most favored establishment being escorted to a mental hospital for "seeing things".

"Torta di fragole." The waiter beamed at them, placing Abbacchio's plate down as well, earning a nod and a quiet "Grazie" from the Mafioso.

Josuke, on the other hand, was focused more on the heavenly aroma coming straight from the steaming mug the waiter set down in front of him, along with the huge slice of cake.

Leone held back more laughter, the kids eyes were bigger than dinner plates.

Oh man... Abbacchio hadn't been kidding when he said it was 'the best damn cake in town'.

Or maybe after chowing down on nothing but plane food for the last few meals just made it seem that way...

Either way, Josuke hummed in delight, practically scarfing down the dessert.

Abbacchio reconsidered his previous thoughts on just how much this kid could eat, watching him inhale the cake from over the rim of his steaming mug of tea.

He'd be sure to ask Tonio if he could make Okuyasu and him some of this heavenly "tortoise day frog-leg" at his little restaurant back home.

If Okuyasu didn't eat him out of house and home while he was away that is...

'Oh well,' he mused. 'at least the punk didn't try to kill me.'

[ill-skillsgard]

Ascent - Bill Skarsgård

Title: Ascent

Warning: 18+ voyeurism/masturbation/language

Description:  A collection of scents and scenes strung together by strange sequences of secrecy and surveyance.

A/N: DAMNIT YOU GUYS. This is my 3rd time posting this fic. It will no longer include the image of the sexy Bill look-alike wanking because wE cAn’T hAvE NiCe tHiNgS. Also, please don’t ask me to send the image because I can’t be sure of ages and I won’t be dinged for providing pr0nz to potentially underage people. I’m so sorry. I tried!

ISO: Quiet roommate; preferably female. Males acceptable too if you're cleanly. Split rent loft in quaint & upscale Rosewell neighbourhood with everything included. 1200 upfront first and last and then rent can be negotiated. E-mail. Do not call/text.

I only had 900 dollars on me but I figured if I e-mailed the person that had put out the ad and set up a time to meet the following week then I could earn enough in tips to cover the rest. Easy as that. Breathing became a little less laboured once I sat back on my futon and realized that I wasn't quite as fucked as I initially thought. Then I wondered how in the hell somebody could use the words quaint and upscale to describe the same neighbourhood. Which one was it? Quaint or upscale? How could it be both? All I was sure of was that I had to find a roommate quickly. The new landlord of my apartment building had decided that I had something to do with the junkies shooting up in the storage unit behind the building, as though I had knowledge of it the whole time and failed to make a report of it, therefore, making me part of the problem. But it wasn't just that; this guy was a jackass of ultimate proportions- a seedy little rich momma's boy that had inherited his parents' sense of self-entitlement and strings of real estate offices spanning across the city and surrounding counties. We did not click at all upon first meeting when he made his rounds to see exactly what kind of tenants he would be dealing with. In fact, the moment I opened the door to my apartment and he peered in to see the apparent cluster-bomb that had gone off in my bachelorette pad, he set his sights on destroying me, or at the very least, evicting me. If only I hadn't answered the door in my stained sweatpants and wrinkled t-shirt from a decade ago when my taste in music remained under-developed. If only I hadn't had the day's worth of crusted mascara stuck in the inner corners of my eyes like black boogers. If I had thrown my hair up in a semi-cute messy bun, rolled down the waistband of my stretchy pants and tossed on my only reputable sweater maybe things could have gone differently. But I didn't. Instead, I let him catch a glimpse into the trash-covered world of crooked posters, laundry and pizza boxes. His prissy, Gucci-wearing ass got one whiff of my body odour and my fate was sealed. Whatever though, shit happens. Even if Millennial pretty-boy newbie landlord hated me, I didn't quite hate myself. Sure, I had had better times in my life but there had also been much worse. I was just going through my annual depression when the Summer was long gone and the scent of leaves rotting in the gutters rang in the impending frost. Who wanted to do anything but sit around and play video games or watch TV for six straight hours after work? Certainly not I. I e-mailed the guy living in Rosewell because I had been through that area once or twice and remembered that it was one of the nicer neighbourhoods; its remnants of old city charm and decadent architecture still intact. That's when I gave it a second thought. 1200 for first and last month's rent was not that much, considering the location. My brain caught up with me and I recognized that there would probably be dozens of people replying to the listing and that my chances were diminished to almost nothing. Oh well, I read on and circled more potential ads with the tip of a fresh permanent marker that was starting to give me a headrush. By some grace of luck, I received an e-mail back the next day from the person that had put out the Rosewell advertisement. It dawned on me that I also didn't know whether he or she was a he or a she or a they. It seemed mundane to ask but the person didn't include their name in the reply and their email address was an obscure reference that I wasn't sure I understood. My imagination decided to take a jog and came upon the silly little notion that perhaps this was one of those things when serial killers lure in unsuspecting victims with promises of rent so cheap in a gentle neighbourhood where nobody would think to look for a body. It was classic of me but I couldn't pretend like I wasn't thinking about it. At least death would help put a stopper in my rut. I didn't know what to expect, walking up to the building with a face sectioned off into quadrants- each with their own tiny glass door and artful wrought iron laced balcony. What kind of a person lived inside? Was it a peppy university student with a small dog and a knack for pulling off an active-wear-is-all-I-wear look? Could it be another snotty, uptight rich boy like my fuck-bag of a landlord? Or perhaps it was a nice older lady that fancied her wine and lived in an effortlessly baroque den, lined with books and trinkets from her travels abroad. Either way, I just hoped they approved of me since I had taken the time to shower, put on a bit of makeup and dress like the clothes I owned weren't questionably clean or variably dirty all the time. The door was painted black and nobody could see through the glimmering panels of stained glass that made up an intricate checkerboard of red and blue with two cantaloupe roses coiling up and away from each other, petals agape and ready to fall. I gave the door a good look over with a smug grimace that was just a feint for my awe. The place was definitely too nice for me but I soldiered on and smiled when I heard the door being unlocked. A man opened the door and the scent of wood and something else immediately wafted out like a ghost casually passing by. Not only was he a man, but a looming sculpture dressed in a sagging brown wool sweater that threw me off from my rehearsed speech. He was tall, pale and had such striking eyes behind his glasses that I couldn't quite meet them without feeling some hint of discomfort. It was like somebody had tossed a limp rug on the statue of David the way his knitted sleeves hung loosely around thick veiny wrists. "Hi. Bill," he motioned to himself. "Won't you come in?" "Um, yeah. Sure." The mud room was painted in tarnished blood orange and was home to a wooden rack full of men's shoes. There were trainers with hints of dirt on the toes and soles, leather dress shoes with the fancy gold buckles on the front, more dress shoes, stylish suede ankle boots, and beaver fur lined moccasins. I could taste the transition from the cool Autumn air to the musky inside of the home. The floors were all wood, the banister leading upstairs was carved from another expensive type of tree and the shelving units were solid oak stretching from floor to high ceiling. Every wall was home to some kind of meticulously placed decorative object. But there were also family photos to lend the place a warm and happy glow. Or it could have just been how the sun shone through the clear bay windows. I was led through the house, past a large cupboard tucked beneath the staircase and a small writing desk that was home to a  vintage typewriter cased in filigrees of polished silver. It was then I noticed all the framed book pages lining the walls. We entered a kitchen and I was blown away by how roomy it was compared to the tight, warm front that made up the mudroom and what I had determined was a living room that had been converted into a reading room. There was no TV but there was a chaise lounge with a stack of old books reaching up to a cascading hand-carved armrest. "This is the kitchen. The fridge will be mostly yours. I just use the bottom shelf and the crisper on the left. I just ask that you keep your section clean." "Right," I nodded. "The stove is gas, the fireplace is gas... Everything is gas in here. Um... It gets kind of cold in the winter because the electric baseboards don't really work. If you turn them on it makes the whole place smell like burning sawdust. So... You can use a plug-in heater in your room but... Just wear slippers on the floors." "Oh, okay. Good to know." "Uh... Yeah. The laundry room is through there. I also keep my bike back there. There's another rack mount for a bike if you have one." "No, just my car." "Hmm," Bill pondered with a grimace. I bit my lip and hoped that he wasn't biting his lip from derision. He took in a breath through one of the daintiest noses I had ever seen on a man and adjusted his glasses for a moment before pulling them off completely to wipe the lenses on the hem of his brown knit sweater. "Parking can be kind of a bitch around here," he warned. "Yeah, " I chuckled. "I probably pulled around the block six times before something opened up." "You'll have to get used to that... Or just get a bike like everyone else." With a forced laugh, I attempted to hide the odd sense of shame that he had instilled by suggesting that nobody around these parts bothered with silly things like motor vehicles. Fuck, that could mean he was some sort of health nut that would turn his nose up if he saw the types of meals I made for myself and how lazy I could get. Aside from his alarming curtness, Bill seemed to be calm and easygoing. The house was a wooden ladder of a place; stacked with his worldly possessions and Scandinavian accouterments. It was easy to conclude that he was a single man that kept to himself and I did my best to show him that I fit into the same category. Although, it seemed as though he had already decided that I was moving in. He referred to everything as his, mine or ours and led me through the rest of the house like both our minds were already made up. "Here's the room. It's right next to mine. You have an en-suite bathroom. Toilet kind of acts up once in a while and the shower drain is prone to clogging but it's all easy fixes. Oh... And the walls are kind of thin. I ask that if you have guests over in the evening to keep the socializing downstairs. I suppose I can't really stop you from having people in your room but... I do enjoy my quiet." "That's okay. I don't really hang out with too many people," I said. Bill strolled into the center of the empty room, the soles of his shoes hitting the floor echoed off the bright white walls. He had his hands shoved into the pockets of his trousers as he spun on a heel to face me. His shoulders drew up to his ears and for the first time, he cracked a smile. It didn't last long and was accompanied by a shrug of closure. "What do you think?" He asked. "It's nice. I like it. A lot. It's very... Homey." Bill nodded, "yes. So will you take it?" "Uh... You don't have any questions for me? Or anyone else to show the place to?" His full lips set into another grimace as though my question scratched the scab off of a wound that had yet to close. Swallowing hard, I immediately began to regret my inquiry. I should have just been grateful that he saw fit to trust me without so much as delving into my history. "To be frank, I'm not really interested in knowing a lot about you. The less we know about each other, the better. I just need a quiet tenant that won't bother me much and you seem like a sensible woman with your own distractions." "Oh." "I don't mean to sound insensitive." "It's okay. I get it." "You have a job, of course?" "Yes." "Well, that's all I need to know. Just make your rent payments on time and we'll get along." "Not a problem. Sounds good." The entire moving process took a little over a month to complete. I gave my notices where they were due, rented a small truck to pack my things into and drove it across town after handing the keys to the fuck-bag landlord who seemed more than thrilled to watch me departing. Bill had already given me keys to the house and when I arrived the first of the month he was nowhere to be found. Luckily, my possessions didn't extend further than my bed, wardrobe, futon and a couple of side tables that had collected more dust than I thought. After hauling up the ripping black trash bags I had stuffed full of clothes, I tried to decipher a way to get my bed up the winding stairs without scratching the wood or getting myself stuck in a corner. It would have been easier if I had another set of hands and I wanted to clear the halls of all my things before Bill came home and saw the clutter in the front hall. Something told me he was not a fan of mess and I had left a heaving trail all over the mudroom, halls and stairs. With my bed frame already stuck on the first few steps, I decided to sit down and reevaluate my strategy. It was definitely a two-person job that I would not be able to complete on my own. "Fuck, " I cursed as I pulled out my cell phone to make a call to the only person I knew that would be willing to give me a hand; my cousin. On the third ring, I heard the sound of the door opening and footsteps coming through. I was sat on the stairs pouting, my cell clutched to my ear and my breath hitched in my throat.  Bill looked up at me from the first-floor landing through the rails of the staircase and smirked at me. "Need some help?" He asked. I immediately terminated the call to my cousin before he could pick up. Shooting up from the fifth step up, I smoothed out the front of my shirt and tried to make it seem like I wasn't about to burst into tears of frustration. "Um, yes. Sorry. I thought I could do it by myself." "No worries," Bill said as he lifted the edge of the bed frame that was hanging off the first step. We dislodged the frame and slowly carried it upstairs but not without a few grunts of effort and sighs when we finally made it to the top floor. Bill's arms were bulging with the strain and when he helped me gently lay the frame down on the floor I couldn't help but stare at the muscles I never knew he had. We had only had a handful of encounters and each time he had been wearing baggy clothes that veiled the true form of his body. Bill helped me bring everything else I had upstairs and once the last of my belongings arrived he evaluated the mess that I would have to organize myself. Half my clothes were spilling out of bags and my furniture was yet to find a proper place. "Well, I'll leave you to it. Unless you have anything else?" "No. This is it. Thanks for your help." "No problem," he nodded with a small pointed smile that brought out a sweetness in his face before exiting the room. I heard the sounds of his footsteps drumming down the stairs but before I had the chance to get to work unpacking, Bill came back. When I looked up at him he had a peculiar look on his face that I couldn't read. It may have been a cross between uncertainty and embarrassment. "You um... These were on the stairs," he showed me what he had clutched in his hand and the moment I realized that the black material in his hand was a pair of my underwear, I paled. "Oh my god," I laughed uneasily. "I'm so sorry. They must have fallen out when I was dragging the bags up the steps. My panties looked crumpled and insignificant in his large hand as he dangled them between two fingers for me to grab. When I caught them I stuffed them in my pocket immediately and blushed even harder than I had when he had come home to see me flustered on the stairs. "It's all right. Could be worse things to find," he pointed out. "I guess so," I chuckled. Bill smirked at me, eyes darting to the pocket that contained the stray panties and gave me one last glance before leaving me to stew in my mortification. Once I was certain Bill was gone, I took the panties out to evaluate just how embarrassed I should have been. The last thing I needed was for my new roommate to have already discovered a pair of my dirty underwear on the floor. They were generic and made of stretchy faux lace that covered next to no ass cheek but I would have considered them to be a good go-to pair nonetheless. Based on visual inspection and a quick sniff, I was assured that everything checked out and Bill hadn't had the displeasure of picking up a pair of my period panties with the permanent stains in the crotch. If anyone had to have found a pair of my underwear I was glad it was a sexy pair and not ones that I had been hanging onto since high school. But because it was a man that had found them, I felt a strange yearning for approval. I thought about what he could have been thinking about for a long time as I set up my bed and unpacked my necessities. It was going to be weird having a roommate.

~*~

Bill was a strange man. Bill had an office in his room and a writing desk stacked with papers and manuscripts. Bill was a writer. When I asked him if I could read something he had written he said nothing. He only peered at me warily over his wire-framed glasses. We were in the kitchen at the same time and I figured it friendly to strike up a conversation. I had seen all of his papers and looked at all of the stuff he had in the house by then and deduced that he had to have been a writer. All I got from him was a gentle shrug of his stately shoulders and a mumble that I couldn't hear. "You're a writer, aren't you?" I continued. "Yes. I suppose, in a way I am." "Ever had anything published?" Bill rapidly shook his head and muttered, "not here, no. Back home... In university. But not here." The subject of him being a writer seemed touchy so I left my line of questioning at that while I boiled water to make tea. I couldn't help but watch him on the other side of the kitchen preparing his lunch because he was comically lanky yet carried himself with graciousness and poise. His side profile was vexing to me as well. It was then that I realized that Bill was not just commonly handsome, but sculpted in a way that I wasn't used to seeing. With a cute boyish nose and arrestive eyes that shone light green through the lenses of his glasses, I felt that old familiar pang of a crush plunging its way from my chest to my gut and all the way down to my groin. He didn't speak much and I hardly ever saw him because he was always in his room with the door shut. I had a feeling that me bringing up his writing had alarmed him into keeping the door closed at all times. It must have been an adjustment for him to go from living alone to having somebody sleeping in the room right next to him. I tried not to make much of the crush but the times that I did see Bill I always tried to stare for as long as possible. He was a mystery to me; a person living in the very same quarters but with a totally separate life that I had no windows into. Bill had pictures of him and a lot of other people that looked kind of like him so I tried to piece together what his family was like without asking him personally. The family photos were all in chunky brass frames and placed in a strategically sporadic way on the wall shelf. There were many books and three different runs of encyclopedic information stacked side by side with their brightly dyed leather spines displaying a prestigious title and the volume number, but it was the pictures that intrigued me most. By the looks of it, Bill had a lot of brothers and a sister. The longer I analyzed each shelf the more I managed to paint a picture of him for myself based on his belongings. There was a photo of Bill next to some other men of similar heights and facial structures, all dressed warmly and huddled together, each with his own version of a charming smile on. It was amusing to see pictures of him smiling since he had hardly tossed more than a crooked smirk my way. I wasn't sure if Bill was standoffish or if he thought me a slob because of the first day I arrived. The house was cleaner than any place I had ever had by myself and I gathered that he liked to keep it that way. I remembered what it had said in his ad about cleanliness. Maybe I had disgusted him. He had been so sold on having me as his roommate but that was weeks ago and he hadn't tried to engage me much since. It didn't weigh heavily on my mind for long. After all, even though I was the crusty definition of a bachelorette, I could put it together that trying to fuck my roommate that I didn't know was probably a surefire way to complicate things beyond repair. And the place was nice. I wanted to stay and I wanted Bill to like me.

~*~

I walked into his room when I knew for certain that he was gone. I don't know why the sudden urge overtook me and steered me to his bedroom door. I opened it and a waft of his scent came over me. It was like fresh cotton and chopped wood or an old book that had been kept in pristine condition. His writing desk beckoned me so I went without hesitation to cast my eyes over the papers on its surface. There were some printed pages full of words with hand-written notes scribbled in the margins. One of the most eye-catching pieces was a mostly blank white page that had been the last of the bunch to be placed upon the altar of his creative expositions.

I can't get enough of the scent that she left behind.

After reading that one line, I snapped out of my mindless intrusion and left his bedroom at once. Why I had gone in there in the first place was a mystery and I was overcome with guilt that pushed me in the direction of avoidance. I felt somehow he would know that I had gone into his room without permission.

~*~

A man from work had asked me out on a date and I stood in the shower vigorously washing the shampoo out of my hair. I was already late and had to scramble to put together an outfit out of what little clean clothing I had. There had been no time for me to do any laundry so I made do with an old sundress that I had worn the shit out of the Summer before, a pair of black nylon leggings with a hole in the crotch and the only pair of underwear that I could find that wasn't stretched out from me wearing them. I had laid out everything on my bed and bustled around trying to find my good face moisturizer and the only high-end lipstick that I had been coveting for the better part of two years. When I got dressed, I had somehow lost pieces of my attire along the way and rushed around looking for the underwear that I had dubbed acceptable to wear out on a date. My phone went off with a notification from my date saying that he was circling around the block again because he couldn't find a place to park. I quickly messaged him back and told him I would be down in five short minutes. Forgoing the panties, I hiked on my nylons and hoped that the skirt of my dress would manage to cover me enough all night that I didn't accidentally flash my pussy while getting in and out of his car. The date was boring and I didn't find myself connecting with him as we had at work. Maybe it was because we were co-workers or maybe it was because he was smiling too much at me the whole time, but I decided to put an end to the night after a dessert and the last of a bottle of cheap wine. When I got home, I shut the door and pulled my vibrator out of my empty underwear drawer.

~*~

In the morning on one of my days off, I stood in the kitchen making myself a pathetic breakfast of two pieces of toast with a slice of tomato and chunks of a too-ripe avocado splattered between them. First I was focused and calm and then suddenly I felt like something had materialized behind me. When I turned around, I let out a gasp as I noticed Bill standing next to me with no shirt on, his hair a mess and his eyes half-closed. "Sorry," he breathed through his nose. "Need a glass, please." I got out of his way and watched as he opened the cupboard that I had been standing in front of and took out a clean glass to pour water into. My eyes were drawn to the burgeoning of hair from his armpits when he reached to the top shelf. Without saying a word, he filled his glass from the tap and then walked back upstairs casually sipping his water. I don't know how he had managed to sneak up on me without me hearing the floorboards protesting beneath his feet but it had happened and my heart continued to race until I heard him enter his bedroom right above the kitchen.

~*~

I had tossed my laundry into the dryer and let it run while I left for work. When I got home my laundry was all folded and put back in my basket. My jeans and work pants were on the bottom, my shirts the second tier and then several pairs of my panties had been folded neatly in halves and placed on top. "Um... Okay," I whispered to myself, lifting the basket off the dryer that was still rumbling full of Bill's laundry.

~*~

A nap was on the immediate horizon for me when I got home from work. I kicked my shoes off as soon as I got in the door and made right for my bedroom. Bill must not have heard me climbing the stairs as I hadn't heard him come up behind me the week before because his door was open and what I saw halted me in my place and robbed me of the abilities to breath or think. There he was, laying on his bed naked with his right hand wrapped around his dick. But it wasn't that he was stroking himself that caught me completely off-guard, it was what he clutched to his nose and mouth with his other hand; the pair of my panties that he had discovered on the floor all those weeks ago when I first moved in. Rooted with panic and intrigue, I covered my mouth and watched on from the third-to-last step at the man taking deep breaths of my underwear while he pulled on his cock and massaged his balls. When I heard a faint groan leave his mouth I felt my floodgates crashing open. The tingle I felt budding from my clit grew so strong that my hands went numb and my face turned red-hot. There was no way that Bill hadn't heard me coming in the door and ascending the steps. But if he knew that I was there watching him play with himself, he didn't acknowledge it. He was in his own world of pleasure, getting high off the fumes that I had infused into the fabric of the underwear he was meddling with his fingers. I wanted to watch him shoot his cum from the tip of his cock but I was so scared that he would see me that I cowered back so that if his gaze did travel beyond the walls of his bedroom, perhaps he wouldn't catch me staring. Another long, deep moan left him and the sound of it somehow filled every sense I had. It was as though I could smell what he was smelling, feel how he was feeling and the taste left behind in my mouth was wetted with saliva being over-produced by my own sexual appetite. I pictured him kissing my clit, pushing my legs back and using his tongue to bore into me, letting it run down, down, down so he could taste every inch of me. A gasp nearly escaped me when I saw him push the crotch of my stolen panties into his mouth. His head dropped back into his pillows and his slow, languid strokes of his cock turned erratic. "Fuck!" He emitted after spitting the panties out and dragging them down his body to wrap around the base of his shaft. "Fuck, fuck, fuck... Mmm, my god." After a minute of every muscle in his body flexing, it looked like he was inches away from coming and I leaned forward with my hand out on the last step to balance myself so I could watch the end result. It took a bit longer than I expected but I watched on unblinkingly until he finally managed to pump out an orgasm that ripped through his body and exited him in a glorious spurt of cum. Then there was another spurt and another, all landing in a perfect sticky mess over his stomach and chest. The sun coming in through his window glittered over his spackled body while a dryness hardened my tongue. I gawked as he moved to mop up his own mess with my black lace panties. What he was going to do next was as much a mystery to me as the last ten minutes I had spent as a voyeur. His cock laid over the top of his thigh and shrunk with each passing second while he rolled my panties up into a ball with his fist. All of his muscles relaxed and he sank further into the bed, closed his eyes all the while my stolen cum-soaked panties remained clutched to his chest like a cross. I could almost smell the musk permeating from the open door. Slowly, I descended the stairs one by painstaking one.

[ixcaliber]

i finally got my hands on dangan ronpa 3 and it’d feel wrong to play it and not liveblog it at least a little

finished the prologue here’s my opinions of/predictions for the characters

kaede akamatsu - shsl pianist & protagonist? i’m not going to pretend i didn’t scroll past some kind of vague hint that the first character you control is a decoy protagonist back when the game first came out so she’s probably doomed or she’s junko or both

it’s been a long time since i played the first two dangan ronpas, i feel like kaede seems to have more of a personality than ummmm makoto? and um nagisa? nope um i forgot their names but the first two dr protagonists. and her shsl talent is a specific talent unlike theirs which brings me to

rantaro amami - shsl amnesiac and my best guess as to who will be the actual protagonist after kaede. for the sole reason of the unknown (or hidden) talent. i have nothing else to base this on. seemed to have heard of the killing games before they had their memories altered and for that reason he’ll probably be around for a good while

shuichi saihara - shsl detective and hat wearer. what’s under that hat? also didn’t we already have a shsl detective? wasn’t that kyoko’s whole thing? would be my second guess for protagonist if it turns out rantaro isn’t it, and if not maybe the murderboy who kills kaede.

so much of my initial impressions are being coloured by this half-read spoiler that it’s going to turn out that like the protagonist switch was something that happened in like... the demo or something. i mean i did think that if they were doing this that they would have done it by the end of the prologue. ???

this is going to end up just like that one time i saw an au image of hall monitor kid as the mastermind and convinced myself that it was a real spoiler for almost the entire way through dr1.

tsumugi shirogane - shsl cosplayer and almost certainly the new genocide jack. maybe this time the serial killer student will do one of the murders

k1-b0 - shsl robot. looks vaguely familiar. you know now that i think about it dr2 really relied on you remembering the events of dr1 to draw parallels and subvert expectations, so actually retaining some memories of the first two would help me in my guesses/predictions. as far as i remember there was a robot in the second game, which i think was like a parallel to chihiro having a computer version of herself in dr1. probably this guy is just a person in a robot suit?

kokichi oma - shsl supreme leader. the new ummmm what was the mafia kid called again? i think it was something like kiriyo, but anyway this guy isn’t as good as the mafia kid whose name i can’t remember. i got halfway through predicting that his status as a supreme leader of an evil organization meant he’d probably die early and uneventfully before i realized that he might be lying. i’d say maybe his talent was being a liar but we kind of already got that with twogami, but dr does like parallels so maybe? solid pick to last till midgame at least

miu iruma - shsl inventor. cool inventor lady. has cool goggles. definitely going to die because i like her and that’s how dangan ronpa works unfortunately. might be a murderer because they could have an execution with like cool robots or something

himiko yumeno - shsl mage. powerful witch girl. love her she probably dies in the same case as miu. probably dies in ‘a magic trick gone wrong’. i don’t know where you’d go with it from a storytelling perspective but i do hope she has actual real magic.

tenko chabashiru - shsl aikido master. i appreciate dangan ronpa’s dedication to having cool sports girls in its games. this sports girl probably gets murdered early. the only real logic i have for this is that aoi survived to the end, akane as far i remember survived to the end. they’re gonna buck the trend, send us the message that nobody is safe not even the cool sports girl.

maki harukawa - shsl child caregiver. i’m clearly supposed to be suspicious of her. she was acting suspicious. she was the only one to walk away after talking to her in the prologue. she’s a child caregiver and all the monokumas are kids this time. she’ll probably be an important confidante of the main character, entirely blameless and survive the entire game.

unless thats what they want me to think...

ryoma hoshi - shsl tennis bastard. hate him. hope he copies teruteru and does the first murder so i can be done with him asap

korekiyo shinguji - shsl anthropologist and mask wearer. all my instincts say komaeda 2 the sequel to komaeda. he’ll likely be entirely benign and make it to the end like mafia kid in 2 and togami in 1. 

kaito momota - shsl astronaut. will definitely murder someone so they can have an astronaut themed execution. though my memory is telling me they kind of already did an astronaut themed execution? astronaut is such an out there talent for a high schooler to have, we can’t have already had an astronaut right???

kirumi tojo - shsl maid assassin. god i wish i could remember mafia kid’s name and its too late in this post to go looking things up at this point. anyway kirumi has a very clear parallel to mafia kid’s assistant, who oh yeah thats right she prevented his execution and got herself killed doing so... god dangan ronpa 2 was fucking wild. kirumi is so dangerous that she’ll likely be a surprising midgame murder victim. 

gonta gokuhara - shsl entomologist (the bug one not the word one) and raised by wolves. my instinct tells me he’ll do a murder by accident (of mice and men style) or be tricked into doing one by... lets say korekiyo. 

angie yonaga - shsl artist and conduit for atua. hey i love her and hope she survives to the end as like the one quirky character allowed to actually survive the game (psychic boy from dr1 and ummmmm i don’t remember if dr2 has a good parallel). 

also of note the monokubs kind of put me in mind of the kids from ultra despair girls and i am Concerned.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #134

“i got detention ‘cuz i made a face; nobody believed me that it’s stuck that way.”

If you were to die today would your life be complete?  No. How good is Coca-Cola?  It's my second-favorite soda. Who was the last person you took a picture with?
  My niece Aubree <3 Do you have a bad temper? 
 No. Do you know anyone who is pregnant right now?
  One acquaintance, one old friend off the top of my head. Have you ever had someone pick you up off the ground and carry you?  Mom when I passed out. If you were in the hospital, do you think any of your exes would come see you?  Girt probably would, and he's the only one I wouldn't have a problem with visiting. If you were kicked out of your house, would the last person you texted take you in?  I'm sure they would, but it's more realistic I'd live with my dad. If you were immortal for a day, what would you do?  Skydive. What fictional place would you most like to go to?  Yo can I go to Azeroth. Who has impressed you most with what they’ve accomplished?  UHHHHHH.  I'm honestly not quite sure.  But Mark is like super high on the list, if not #1.  I'm not well-informed on a lot of people's accomplishments lajsfdaowe. What’s something you like to do the old-fashioned way?  Hmmmm.  Good question. What is one thing you really want but can’t afford?  Lmao dude I want so many expensive things atm. What is the most impressive thing you know how to do?  I almost snorted reading this question because like do you honestly expect something impressive of me.  I... guess I understand Sony Vegas well? What are some of the turning points in your life?  Uhhhh meeting my ex, the divorce, discovering my passion for photography, the breakup, re-uniting with Dad, r e c o v e r y. What’s your cure for hiccups?  NOTHING.  NOTHING WORKS. Don’t you think it’d be cool to see a colossal squid?  FUCKING NOPE THEY ARE SPAWNS OF THE NIGHTMARE REALM. What kind of steak do you prefer?  When I ate meat, I liked medium well. Has anyone ever cheated on their significant other with you?  Yes, allow me to (not) tell you about my stupid 12-year-old self. Are you fascinated by outer space?  *cue the Mark "Space is Cool" mix* Do you answer your phone when it’s a number you don’t recognize? Never. When washing your hands, do you wet your hands or put soap on first?  Put the soap on. When was the hardest you ever cried? What was the circumstance?  The night of the breakup.  I had left the house to walk to Jason's, and Mom got in the car and kept driving in front of me to stop me (I was too practically catatonic to run).  Eventually gave up, she drove me home, and when she opened the door, it was my goal to run to the kitchen and slit my throat, but the moment I made the action to run, she pretty much tackled me and I sobbed my lungs out for like 30 minutes.  Fuck that entire night. Who were your last 3 Facebook messages from and what do they say?  "lol but hey thats the world we live in lol well goodnight honey and i hope to speak to u again" from Leslie, "How quaint O:" from Girt, "Its okay :)" from Amanda. Who was the last person to comment on your Facebook status? What does the comment say?  Sara saying "YEP" when I shared a picture of straight people dating versus lesbians and it was spot-on. Which do you use the most, smiley faces, kisses or hearts?  Faces, probs. Do you like sweet or salty popcorn? Ohhhh both.  But I've gotta side with salty. Have you ever had to put your hand over someone’s mouth to keep them quiet?  Once. Have you ever fed a wild animal?  Yes. The last time you packed, where were you going?  Sara's. Do you believe in astrology?  Definitely not. Do you have an accent?  Not really, but you can pick up a southern tone with some words.  Example, my "your" sounds more like "yer," usually. Has someone ever made you a Build-A-Bear?  No. Do you sing in the shower?  I have been a tad bit lately...  I used to never. Are you satisfied with your current camera? My phone camera is SHIT, and I need a new actual camera.  55-200mm lens is broken, the other one's automatic focus setting is and I'm not great at manual focus. Have you ever been in a choir?  In Catholic church, yes. Does it bother you to have dirt on the bottom of your bare feet?  Y E S Has anyone ever told you that you have a big butt?  I literally have the flattest ass of any female you'll ever meet. Do you often skip breakfast? Pretty much daily now, yeah.  I'm fasting and don't eat until 11, so breakfast's passed. Last person who drove you somewhere (besides your parents)? Nicole. Who last grabbed your behind?  I'm sure it was Chelsea being her crazy self. Do you eat raw cookie dough?  Yeah dukes up salmonella. Do you watch Grey’s Anatomy?  No. Would you survive in prison?  No.  I would find one way or another to kill myself. Do you drink? Smoke? Do drugs? Why, or why not?  Rarely, no, no.  I drink usually in celebratory settings to loosen up some and sometimes just because I like the flavor of weak, fruity alcohol.  Smoking's gross, drugs are ew. What was the first cigarette you ever smoked?  Never smoked. Are you scared about the end of the world?  If I'mma be in it, hell yeah.  But it's not something I actively worry about because I don't think it'll happen in my lifetime. Do you prefer landmarks or street names when being given directions?  Landmarks.  I don't know street names for shit. Do you read the prologues in the beginnings of books?  Yes. Where is one place that you’d never be caught dead in?  Never be caught dead in, ever... uhhhh... nothing's coming to mind right now.  Oh wait.  Probably a strip club. Apple Jacks: yay or nay?  YAY. Do you have a favorite Scooby-Doo movie?  Yeah, but I don't remember which one. ;-;  It's that one where the girl says her name is Mary Jane and Shaggy goes, "That's, like, my favorite name."  Totally went over my head as a kid lmao. Have you ever met a guy for coffee?  No, I hate coffee anyway. Who is your pet most attached to in your family?  Teddy's most attached to me, I'm the only one who has any physical contact with Venus and she trusts me, Bentley is bonded with Mom, and Mitsu is still apprehensive of anyone. Does the last person you shared a bed with mean anything to you?  The whole world and more. What do you normally do when you’ve had a really bad day?  Cry, have a shit attitude occasionally, a nap is common, talk to Sara, binge my favorite Markiplier videos. When is the next time you will wear a dress?  Hm.  Maybe this summer if I'm confident enough in my body by then lmao. On the main page on YouTube, what’re the three recommended videos? 8-BitGaming beating SCP: Containment Breach, a DanAndPhilGAMES video of Golf With Friends, and then an 8-BitRyan vid of the full release of Raft. Do you know anyone from Canada? Yeah, my former roommate's ex. Are thongs sexy? Yeah, but oml I know I couldn't wear one. Did you grow up in a healthy environment? I wouldn't say "healthy," no.  My dad was an alcoholic at the time, parents always fought, and our neighborhood was dangerous. Heavy rain or heatwave? Heavy rain, easily.  Fuck the heat. You have a choice to shoot your father or die, what would you do?  I hate these damn questions, but I'd rather die.  My father deserves the longest and happiest life possible without the betrayal of his daughter. If killing yourself meant saving the world, would you?  Yeah.  It's a lose-lose situation for me; if I didn't, I'd still die if the world's gonna end. Who knows your most darkest memory or secret?  Jason and Mom should know, and whoever read those specific surveys. Who was the last person you almost went out with?  Meh.  Juan.  We talked and hung out once in... late 2016 I think and I was pretty confused as to how I felt about him.  Meanwhile, he hasn't kept it a secret in the least he's liked me since freshman year.  He's always treated me like a gentleman should, but I know the dark and disgusting parts of him.  Glad I decided against it. The Rolling Stones, Led Zeppelin, or The Beatles?  Stones. What does your grandma call you?  Just my name. And what do you call your grandmother?  Grammy. Would you rather have a pool or a hot tub?  Pool. Do you think ‘everything bagels’ are disgusting?  No, but I have to be in the mood for one. Do you find serial killers fascinating?  I wouldn't call them as a whole fascinating, but what has to be going on in their brains to create such grotesque desires and creativities. Do you have high blood pressure?  No. Have you ever pumped gas?  No.  I'm 22 btw lmao. Have your parents ever caught you drinking?  I mean Mom's seen me with a drink when she didn't know I'd gotten one, but I wouldn't call it "caught" since I'm allowed to and I made no effort to make it secretive. Do you prefer writing by hand or typing? Typing.  Writing makes my carpal tunnel act up quickly, and besides, typing's way faster. Think of one of the biggest decisions you've had to make in your life. If you made a different choice, how different would your life be now?  Panicking and telling Mom when I overdosed.  I took way more than what I should've taken of a cold medicine I can't even look at now, but I don't think it would've killed me based on how I felt, but then again, the fluids or whatever I got to purge it could've saved me; however, I feel like I would've killed myself through another method if I didn't tell her.  It all led to the psychiatric care I needed. Have you ever taken a course on CPR?  No, but I should. Do you wear a watch? No, I don't even own one. When are you at your most energetic? A little after waking up.  Just gotta get over the initial drowsiness. Do you like playing cards? If so, what's your favorite game?  I don't really enjoy card games.  I liked Magic: The Gathering tho when I was with Jason, but I wasn't that good at it considering it's got like a billion rules.  I'd still play with someone who knew how to, though.  I loooove the PS3 version that was made for it, it was much easier and I found it relaxing.  And I adore the artwork like jfc. What are your parents’ natural hair colors? What is yours?  Extremely dark brown, black, dirty blonde but turned to brown. How do you react to random strangers suddenly trying to make conversation with you?  I get nervous. Do you like Slim Jims?  YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAS MAMA. Have you ever been in a castle? The Disney World castle, if that counts? Would you rather write a mystery or love story? A love story. Are you afraid of getting shots?  No.  I don't like them, but. What do you currently hear?  "Pour Some Sugar On Me" cover by Ninja Sex Party. What’s one text that you saved?  Two texts from Sara that I love way too much. Have you ever cut your own hair?  No. What’s your favorite color combination? Probably orange and black bc Halloween. Did you share a locker at school? No. Have you ever sang karaoke?  No. How old were you when you went on your first date?  Huh, I dunno.  Just the guy and myself?  Probably dinner with Jason at 16? Has anyone besides your family seen you naked? Yeah. Would you rather have strep throat or an ear infection?  Holy fuck, after my last ear infection?  Strep. Where was your first job?  GameStop. Have you ever been to a night club? No. Do all good things really come to an end?  No, not all. How many people do you trust with your life?  Three. Are you too kind for your own good?  Don't think so. Have you ever held a baby? Yeah. What's your favorite '90s TV show?  The Nanny. What are you favorite book series? Warriors. Favorite superheroes?  I know he's technically an anti-hero, but does Deadpool still count?  If not, uh.  Batman I guess. Would people consider you more immature or mature? Mature, probably. Would you say most of your friends are older or younger than you?  Younger. If you have a significant other, do you get jealous of people a lot? She knows I was insecure as fuck in the beginning.  Now, nope. Who was your best friend in the fifth grade?  Ummm I think Quiata? Do your parents still help you financially?  I don't have a job.  So. Have either of your parents ever been in trouble with the law? Don't think so. Do you have a preferred brand of bottled water?  Essentia.  Thanks for not having it, NC. Are you more prone to overthinking things, or being too impulsive?  Hunny I overthink if I have to pee or not if it's not a massive need. How bad are your worst cramps on a scale of 1-10? Eh, maybe just a seven thanks to the pill. Have you ever thrown up from cramps?  No. List three people you had a hard time forgiving.  JASON, Dad, Mom multiple times. Who was your first celebrity crush?  Jesse McCartney. If applicable, what form of birth control do you use?  The pill.  But it's for cramps. Are you happy with your gender?  Yeah. What gender do you identify as?  Female. What gender were you born as? Female. Have you ever gotten high off a prescription medication?  No. Have you ever used a tampon?  Yeah. How old were you when your parents talked to you about puberty?  I don't think it's something we ever properly "talked" about, but rather indirectly when Mom taught me how to shave and told me when to start wearing a bra. How many people have you known who were suicidal?  Sadly, I think MOST people I know/most friends. What's your favorite pain reliever? Advil. Who has the cutest baby/babies you know? My nephew is literally the cutest child I have EVER seen. Do you have a lot of people blocked on Facebook? Actually yes, but most because Mom instructed me to block them when I was younger.  A few are of my own volition. What color is your razor/shaver?  Orange and white. What's your boyfriend/girlfriend's sisters name? She doesn't have any sisters. Do you like the sound of violins?  YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS. Would you be interested in going on a blind date?  Even if I was single, no. If you formed an unhealthy habit, would it be smoking or drinking? Oh boy, idk.  I think an alcohol addiction is more dangerous, but smoking has disgusting consequences. Have you ever bought a video game expansion pack? No. Do you wish YouTube had been around when you were a kid?  Nah.  I wouldn't want the risk of an earlier technology addiction. Do you remember preschool?  Yes. What color(s) was your backpack in high school?  Browns and black.  It was a Ouija board design. What health conditions do you have?  Physically, baaad dry scalp, dry af skin in general, inactive MRSA.  I've been over my mental ones enough. Have you ever collected seashells at the beach?  Yeah. Did you ever take dance lessons?  Yeah, for many years. If you took dance lessons, what was your favorite style of dance?  Modern. Have you ever worn a tutu? No. What was your favorite vacation that you went on as a child?  Disney World. Have you ever had braces?  Yeah. What is your favorite photo editing site? (or what do you use?) I don't use editing sites.  I use Photoshop, Lightroom, or PhotoScape. How many times did you take your driver's test?  I haven't yet.

[khymer-vulture]

I decided to post 2 short stories today \o/

I’ve had em sitting around for like a month, cuz I’ve been liking the newer stuff I’ve been writing more. So might as well post em (after a bunch of re-editing).

There was an idea right after writing Last Chapters about Caleb one day finding out about his parents’ past. I just couldn’t figure out how to set it up, then I think about how most kids these days kinda believe creepypastas or urban legends are real and stuff.

Anyways, rambling...

Set after Last Chapters.

Secrets are secrets for a reason. Curiosity may lead one to find out things they wished they hadn’t.

Many years have passed by for the small family, Caleb was in school, made quite a number of friends, and even proved to excel in his subjects – just like a normal child.

 There were times where Zack would joke about him growing too fast.

 “Seriously kid, slow down for a moment…it’s like every time I blink, you grow like a weed!”

 Rachel often chuckled at his comment, but she felt happy about it. With Caleb growing happy and healthy each day, it simply proved that Rachel and Isaac did their job right in raising him. Caleb was a bit of a mischief maker, but never to the point of causing too much trouble, he had his mother’s smarts to thank for that. He also remained an adventurer at heart like he’d always been, now that he was much older, he was given more freedoms to explore, especially when he wanted to go meet his friends after school.

 Yet, in every growing generation there seemed to be different rumors or scary stories of madmen wandering about to scare or test the mettle of young minds. One of Caleb’s friends was bringing up a “supposed urban legend” about a killer that was still running loose. He always had friends that liked to say tall-tales, this seemed to be yet another one of those wild stories. The boy was always keen to pick out lies and exaggeration, thanks to his dad. Caleb lightly rolled his eyes at his friend’s attempt to sound ominous.

 “I’m serious! Have you not heard of the Alleyway Ripper?”

 “Haha, is that what he’s seriously called?” Caleb asked with a disbelieving chuckle. “Sounds like something you pulled from a movie…”

 “Well…no…but it sounds like it could be…if the cops would’ve given him a cool nickname…” his friend grumbled.

 Yup, another wild story.

 Caleb lightly sighed, “Go on then…why is he so scary?”

 “He’s a real person and the guy’s still loose, he could be anywhere. If someone got killed in the back-alleys, it’s definitely from him! I even heard he kidnaps kids too,” his friend said, “I think he was on the news for a long while because of that.”

 If he was real, he should have a name, but he wasn’t given that either. He might as well start picking apart his friend’s claims.

 “Okay? So, what does this ‘Ripper’ look like? I gotta keep an eye out, right?” Caleb teased.

 “He’s like a grim reaper, literally. Hood, scythe, even a scary face that he keeps covered.”

 A hood and a face that is often covered, why did he get a flash of his father just now?

 “Uhh…right…maybe you should tell that to some girls, I think they’ll really get scared of that story,” Caleb reluctantly joked.

 “I’m serious, he’s real,” his friend insisted, until mischief set in, “…but good idea though…”

 A hood and a concealed face. No, that’s just a stupid coincidence…was it?

 During the final half hour of school, Caleb decided to head to the school library and use one of its computers. He often went to the library for usual study time before the final bell, but this was a chance to do some investigation. Even though there were the typical internet locks to block out unwanted websites, some were permitted for research use only. Caleb decided to put in the vague details he heard until he got a match.

 The computer directed him to an official website containing information of convicted criminals, one name had stuck out like a sore thumb – Isaac Foster. The very same name as his father.

 Isaac Foster: approximate age upon registration, 20. Suspected serial killer in connection to multiple murders, assault with a deadly weapon, and kidnapping. Status: WANTED.

 Caleb felt his blood grow cold, he didn’t want any of the information he just read to be true, until the mugshot came up.

 A young man, his familiar face was completely covered in wrappings, and wore a bloodied and slightly charred hoodie while he had a bloodthirsty glint in his bi-colored eyes. This picture was an absolute opposite of the mischievous and gentle expression Caleb had known most of his life.

 The supposed killer spoken as some sort of Boogieman was none other than his own father. Caleb silently closed out of the browser and excused himself out of the library as soon as the bell rung. He had a confused yet sullen expression on his face, normally he would walk with his friends until he met with his mother halfway, but he wanted to be alone.

 Rachel met up with Caleb, but she seemed to sense a different vibe coming from her son, she offered to help carry his things as they made their way back home.

 “Hey Caleb, you’re looking so down today…did something happen in school? Nobody’s giving you a hard time, are they?” she sweetly asks.

 His mother’s tender voice always lightened his spirits, but his mind continued to be clouded with uneasy thoughts. Does his own mother know what kind of man she’s married to? He felt compelled to ask, but deep down he wanted to hear the truth from his father first, someone he felt like he was his best friend for the longest time.

 Rachel was unsure what was bothering her son, she brought a hand up to gently run her fingers through his hair, “If you feel ready to explain what’s on your mind, I’m always here, okay?”

 “Alright, mom…thanks…” Caleb replied with a partial hug.

 Rachel opened the door for Caleb to step inside first to make himself comfortable while she set his things off to the side for him to take care of later. It was always time to unwind first, then take care of responsibilities afterwards.

 Soon, a voice called out from the kitchen, “Is the kid back? Hey Caleb, I just stockpiled some snacks!”

 Both Caleb and Isaac had a soft spot for junk food and their son would go flying right towards the kitchen, but even now, he seemed to drag his heels. Zack seemed to detect a change in behavior, so he met both his wife and Caleb to the doorway. The man had a large plate in his hand filled with assorted junk food, mostly chips and cookies. He glanced at his son and noticed an expression Caleb had never given before.

 “Hey kid…what’s up? Are you feeling alright?” Zack asked, already having a cookie halfway in his mouth.

 Caleb lightly bit at his lip, he didn’t want to see his father’s face for a moment, all he could picture was the mugshot, and the grim expression that showed clear as day.

 “Dad?”

 “Yeah?” Zack asks.

 “Have you…ever…killed someone?”

 That question made both Zack and Rachel freeze, the plate simply slipped from the man’s grasp and crashed onto the floor. What brought this question? Why did he ask it? How could he avoid it? Caleb could see a conflicted expression on Zack’s face, it was a mix between regret, anger, and grief.

 “How did this question come up?” Zack stoically asks.

 “A friend of mine was making up stories again, stuff about a runaway killer. At least, I thought it was made up…it obviously sounded fake, but the description fit you…” Caleb said, “I was hoping it was just coincidence…then I…”

 “Enough, Caleb…” Isaac interrupted, his voice wasn’t raised, but it was slightly firm. “I know where this leads…”

 Zack knew that Caleb was very smart for his age, the boy was already in middle school. If Caleb got curious, he was damn determined to get results. He must’ve found it, judging how unsettled he was.

 “Zack…” Rachel beckoned.

 The man glanced to Rachel for a moment, then sighed to himself, “Let me talk with him for a while…sorry for the mess…”

 Rachel was still uncertain as she watched Isaac gently nudge Caleb with him to follow. The boy felt like he had opened the door to the lion’s den and became nervous for what he was about to be lectured on – or possibly find out. Zack remained an unnatural calm, and didn’t even utter a single word until he guided Caleb into his room.

 “Sit down,” Zack said as he closed the door.

 Caleb did just as his father asked, and sat himself on the edge of the bed, Zack quietly walked over to the closet that contained his assortment of hoodies and Rachel’s outfits. The man swiftly pulled the articles of clothing to the side to reveal his scythe.

 A hood, a scythe, with his face covered up.

 “Yes Caleb…I have killed people before…” Zack answered, “it was the only nature I’ve known back then…the only thing that gave me the feeling of purpose…”

 The ugly truth finally came out, Caleb could see a crestfallen expression on his father’s face, like the truth hurt him instead of a lie.

 “I never wanted you to know…” Zack murmured, “I never wanted you to learn the ugly truth about us…”

 “Wait…Mom too?”

 Zack faintly sighed, then nodded. He walked up to the bed and sat down next to Caleb, then buried his face in his hands. He thought, for once, whispers of his infamous misdeeds were put to rest after his ‘inactivity’. Instead, it was cast into mere urban legend, keeping that dark legacy of his alive.

 “Fuck…”

 It wasn’t the time to be watching his language, he was both frustrated and hurt with the situation they were in now.

 “Your mom didn’t do it as high of a degree as I did…she did have her…moments. That was about it,” Zack continued, “She’s still the loving know-it-all you know her by, Caleb…”

 “…am I going to end up the same way?”

 That question felt like an immediate stab in the heart, he even groaned from the internal pain, but Zack simply took a deep breath to calm his nerves. It was the only best thing he could do instead of swearing at the top of his lungs and punching a hole through the wall to combat the ache he was feeling.

 “Do you want to?” he asks.

 “What?”

 “Do you want to end up like me? Do you want to hurt people?” Zack asks once more.

 Caleb paused at the question, then quickly shook his head, “No…no, of course not.”

 Zack brought a hand up to gently ruffle his hair, “Good, keep saying that…you won’t end up that way. Your mom and I did everything we could to have you live the best fucking life possible. Shit, I dreaded the day something like this would happen…but I kept ignoring it…”

 “…What made you want to do all those horrible things?” Caleb asked.

 Zack sighed as he leaned back some, “…People have a breaking point, kid. My scars are one, I got lit on fire when I was young. Then was left to rot away in that fucking orphanage…but I’d rather not get into full detail about that right now, this god damn topic is gloomy enough as it is. Murder looked so easy, it eventually became my calling. I was so sick of seeing the happy smiles on people’s faces and preferred to see despair. Every person was given a count to three to try outrunning me before the deed was done…it was a guarantee to see that look…that was how I rolled…”

 “Was mom the same way?”

 “Her parents were a fucking work of art…at least, from what she tells me. Drunk cop for a dad, a mouthy and bitter woman for a mother. Fights, shouting matches, even she was caught in the fray…someone like her to go through that kind of bullshit for that long…it was no wonder she snapped too. The worst things in life loves to bring out the worst in everybody…”

 Zack sensed Caleb’s insecurities, “…Monsters are made, not born. There’s always a reason for the insane shit people do. I guess with work…monsters can be unmade too. You’re a good kid, Caleb. Hell, you and yer’ mom are really fucking important to me than just a few seconds of thrill. I…I think that’s proof enough…”

 Caleb thought about that statement for a moment, but another question sparked in his mind, “Do you still want to kill people?”

 “I’d be lying if I said no, I still get those urges from time to time. It’s something I’ve been doing for years…it doesn’t just go away with the snap of the fingers. That’s why when I go out at night, I do a bit of stealing to try and suppress it - bonus if a brawl is involved, helps me vent out aggression,” Zack replied. “If I can knock a guy out, that satisfies me for a good while…”

 “Who was the last person you killed?”

 Zack paused for a moment, “Do you remember the scary lady?”

 The woman from before, when Caleb wandered too far off from home, Zack was there to chase her away from him – didn’t he? His father’s old answer came back to mind. Scared her to death. To death. Now it made sense as to why Zack lacked a hoodie and bandages when he returned.

 “Why did you have to kill her? I mean - yeah, I was terrified of her, but what reason did you have?”

 “Because she knew who your mother and I was, and now she knew where we lived. If I had let her go…” Zack stopped in his sentence, then grit his teeth as he felt frustration build, “Fuck…if I had let her go…the life we got now…everything would have gone to hell in an instant…”

 The thoughts of the possibility were showing signs of upsetting Isaac greatly, he began to feel tears threatening to build up. Zack had never expressed this side of himself before, but it seemed right now that it couldn’t be helped, he felt like he was being torn apart.

 “They’d send your mom back to that fucking psyche ward, I’d be executed in a heartbeat, and…” Zack couldn’t finish, the final possibility was killing him on the inside, “and…fuck…fuck…losing you would be the hardest, especially if they found out who your parents were…”

 There were actual tears streaming from his eyes, dampening the bandages that covered his face, “I can’t fucking have you go through that nightmare, Caleb. God fucking damn it, I know it’s not happening but shit, it fucking hurts to think about…it fucking hurts…”

 His father had tears streaming down his face, the truth was agonizing to spill out, along with the ‘what ifs’ that was plaguing his mind, especially when that ‘what if’ was his family being ripped from each other.

 Caleb learned his father lived a life of horrific crimes, a person that people would often depict as a monster with no conscience - even his mugshot would’ve said the same. Yet, here Zack was, showing the most human of emotions beside him. Zack was fully aware of his past, still struggles with it, yet feels like every sacrifice he made for the sake of his family was worth it, and having it be taken away could literally kill him.

 No, not just Zack - Rachel too.

 Their son only heard a brief summary of his mother, but Caleb was sure that she had her own share of dark secrets. Having to tell him would be just as heartbreaking for Ray as it was now for Isaac. He can reluctantly picture it, especially for someone as giving as his mother. From what Caleb gathered, his parents were emotionally broken people, whatever further history there was to share, it seemed to heal them in some sort of way.

 Caleb was torn at first, he didn’t know what side to truly believe. There was the truth laid before him that his father committed atrocities, and there was a feeling like there was an attempt at some sort of redemption, no matter how large or small of an impact it would make. The years that was spent growing up until now, their feelings towards one another as a family was genuine. Should things be allowed to change after coming across this new information?

 Caleb lightly bumped his head against Zack’s shoulder and wrapped an arm around him in his way to hug his father. Isaac turned his focus to his son, then quietly chuckled to him.

 “…The guy hug?”

 “The guy hug…” Caleb replies.

 Isaac brought his arm around his son to pull him close into a returning half hug, and stayed that way for a brief moment. It was comforting after a heart-wrenching moment for the two of them.

 Within seconds, Zack suddenly yanked his son close to give him a playful noogie, feeling the lad flail underneath his grip.

 “Jeez kid, stop growing…you’re almost as tall as me…” Zack teased, then let his son go.

 Caleb huffed as he tried to fix his messed-up hair, despite the darkest contrast of his parents, they certainly acted like everyday people. They truly wanted what was best for him while growing up.

 “Hey dad?” Caleb asked.

 “Hmm?”

 “My friends often gripe about their parents being too strict and stuff. I guess because they don’t see from their parent’s point of view. How you and mom act every day, you behave just like ordinary parents. You both care for me, you’re firm but fair, and of course…you’re both really embarrassing at times – like normal parents,” Caleb spoke.

 Caleb really did inherit his mother’s smarts after all, those words alone made Zack express a touched yet proud smile.

 “God damn, you’re like a fucking gift from the gods, kid…” Zack quietly laughed, “I’m glad you’re our son, Caleb…”

 Caleb softly smiled back at his father, then a question came to mind that he almost forgot.

 “Hey…one of your crimes said kidnapping…who was it you kidnapped?”

 Zack raised a brow, then had a smirk on his face, “Shit, I wouldn’t call it kidnapping…more like rescuing.”

 “It was Mom?”

 “Yup, I was the knight n’ shining armor and all that shit,” Zack answered proudly.

 Now Caleb wasn’t convinced. The expression was clear as day.

 “Oh, come on, I was joking with that bit…jeez…you’re like your mom.” Zack muttered with a pout.

 The two then shared a short laugh before getting up to reunite with Rachel.

 “Your mom is still probably worried to death about this whole thing…look, there’s still a lot more to tell you…but I think right now, this is as far as we’re going to go. When all of us are ready...me and your mom are gonna sit with ya’ and tell you what you need to know…okay?” Isaac said as he was heading to the door, “…it may not even be pretty…shit...we know what we did, just please don’t view us as any different.”

 The eventual talk was going to be an emotional struggle without a doubt, it’s a hidden and dreadful truth, even if it was kept away with the best of intentions. It may be later tonight, tomorrow, or any other given point in time. The secrets coming forth was still so much to take in, and tackling it all straight away would be far too taxing for the entire family, it was better to handle it one step at a time when they were prepared.

 “Oh Christ…uh…don’t let your mom know that I was letting my language fly in front of you,” Zack said.

 “It’s fine, dad…I think the situation called for it…” Caleb replies, “Besides…your language is tame compared to my friends.”

 “Seriously? Fuck, I’m getting old…”

 He allowed Caleb to leave the room first, but he paused to look back at the closet where he kept his scythe. Zack slowly approached the small room littered with hanging clothes as he gazed at the old weapon. He stared at it for a good while to reflect on the past, then placed his hands on the hanging garments and slid it back into obscurity.

 Caleb did learn some parts of an unpleasant history, and he still had much more to learn when he would be ready and willing.  Whatever wild rumors and stories his friends felt like fabricating to scare and create their own creatures that go bump in the night, Caleb decided to leave it just as that – just stories. As his father said, monsters are what they are because they were made to be that way.

 Yet, like his parents, he did not see them as monsters or anything compared to it, but as normal people – eccentric at times, but normal human beings nonetheless. They were simply wronged at the start and had an unorthodox way of coping, but they at least admitted their faults and errors.

 After all, it’s only human to sin.

[suesofferalfront-blog]

Titan

Have I got a stu for you. Fowl stumbled upon this guy and since he’s preoccupied I think I’ll take the spotlight for now. Here goes nothing.

GENERAL TAGS

Gotta add a stroke of comedy in there to balance out the asshole in him. I see we may as well make him both of those characters and the actor himself because why not? A bit of an edgy Star Wars character perfectly compliments an alcoholic junkie as well as an actual person. Aww, how sweet! He’s both a deranged lunatic and holds the best couple status. Wonder what goes on at their place every night. Of course, we gotta add that “sinnamon roll” part, too! Everyone knows that if you’re a psychopath you’re as equally lovable as you are terrifying and unpredictable.

APPEARANCE

Kudos to the role-player for not substituting “eyes” for “orbs”. I have to give them credit for that. If he has a lot of muscle I would suspect that some of that would make its way to his outward appearance. Seems he’s able to retract his muscles at will, what a champ. Oh yes, it has to grow out specifically when it’s colder because snow leopards do not tend to already have thick fur built for that sort of weather. That would be ridiculous.

PERSONALITY (OR LACK THEREOF)

I’m not going to even bother with that fancy personality acronym shit and I’ve never read or seen a Harry Potter movie but I’m pretty sure Slytherdor is not a thing. There’s some more alignment bullshit and honestly, I don’t think it fits. If you kill with no reason (mentioned a little further on in the personality section) then how are you good in any way, shape, or form? Moving on, they just have to balance out that murderer in him with cuddly qualities such as “sweet” and “protective”. Serial killers have great senses of humor when they’re not gutting people alive for the hell of it. Yada, yada, yada, more killing and twisted shit. Here’s the summary and yes, I would agree that the man who’s disturbed is a pretty chill guy, wouldn’t you? Yeah, extreme physical violence is a definite teenage thing. I could understand that minor harm would be, but to the point where you’ll gravely hurt somebody or endanger their life doesn’t sound very teen-like to me. “...He’s trying to constantly prove himself through physical and mental tests.” So you mean killing? Seems reasonable. The role-player mentions maturity and let me tell you, I got a laugh out of that one. Attributes totally going against what has already been laid out are thrown in which is pretty lazy. All in all Mister Titan completely counteracts himself in the behavior department. 

RELATIONS

There’s our problem right there: he killed his adoptive parents! He turned against the people who, out of the kindness of their hearts, took him in and raised him. This is a coming-of-age story for the ages. I’m appalled that this guy has friends. They must be really forgiving for all the lives he’s taken and destroyed. “Bisexual heteroromantic.” As if he wasn’t special enough and hey, he’s even got his own ship name. 

BATTLE TAGS

Now we’re getting into the deep bullshit. Put on your gas masks, folks. You’re gonna need them. Here’s a personal favorite that justly sums him up:

He’s even got the Force, how can he get any better? A lightsaber, too! Guy must look like a fucking Star Wars geek on that battlefield. Not to mention the tiger vocal chords he’s got in his arsenal because a normal Snow Leopard’s just doesn’t do it. 

Welp, that about does it. I’ve been fed enough bullshit today and it’s about time I wrap this up. I’ll leave you in the most appropriate way I can.

May the Force be with you, Titan. And also with you, dear readers.

—  Mod Tabaqui

[meroniasecretexchange-blog]

A wine-stained date

Author : @all-my-lovely-fics

Gift for : @snow-white-sheep

Prompt : “You’re my waiter and I’m on a really crappy date with an asshole”

Author’s note : Hi ! I’m sorry because while this fanfiction technically fills the prompt, it’s obviously not what you expected. I still hope you’ll like it, I just loved this idea <3 I hope you’re having/you had a lovely holiday !

Mello drew up the list of everything he had done to prepare himself, checking and checking again that everything was in place and that he hadn’t forgotten anything. Not that he doubted of his plan, not at all, but his adversary was an infamous, ruthless mob boss, who monitored everything illegal in Los Angeles, and made his money from every traffic he could put his hands on - drugs, guns, prostitutes and some less tasteful goods too, while he was at it. He was the worst kind of scum, really, but he was incredibly talented when it came to destroy anyone on his way. Which Mello was.

After Kira’s capture, L’s title was still vacant. There was, of course, the fact that Light Yagami had spoiled the position, by using it as a cover to act as Kira, and nothing would ever be able to erase these years where L’s name has been a joke, but the real reason no one had taken the title yet was because… well, Near and Mello had both arrested him, sort of. And while Mello didn’t like to admit it, he couldn’t have done it without Near, and Near couldn’t have done it either without him. So they decided to pick up the new L the only way they knew : by playing. They had one year to prove that they were the most efficient when it came to catching criminals, and Armando Frozzi’s arrestation could well be the beginning of the end for Near. He knew that his rival was in Russia, looking for a nasty serial killer who mocked the police forces by sending them letters. Everyone was talking about it, not only in Russia but in the rest of the civilized world too, so Mello could be sure that Near wasn’t on his case.

Mello had managed to be hired in Frozzi’s favorite restaurant, the one he went twice a week, always with a date, always with a different date, some beautiful mannequins who barely spoke english and drank too much champagne.

And for tonight, Mello had a plan : he needed to get close enough to the guy to slip a tracker in his bag. It shouldn’t be that hard, but it was mandatory for the follow up of his plan. He wasn’t too worried : he knew how to talk to mafiosi, which string he had to pull. All he needed was some subtlety, and that was his speciality, wasn’t it ?

“Marvin ?” his boss called him, and walk-ran toward him, a disapproving look on his face. “I see two tables that need to be cleared off, and I see you, being payed and doing nothing, can you explain it to me ?”

Mello mentally quartered and skinned alive this asshole who had interrupted his thoughts, but since he couldn’t afford to be fired now, he bit his tongue and started to work, his attention still on the entrance door, waiting for Frozzi to come up at any instant. After thirty minutes where he watched the come-and-forth of these beautiful, boring, rich people, Frozzi’s figure appeared, large and threatening and the manager came to welcome him, in person, hugging his massive body for a brief moment. They were both smiling, but Mello knew where to look : the manager was terrified, and Frozzi’s wolfish grin told him that Frozzi knew it, and was delighted to see how he could affect him.

“Vincent ! How are you ?” he said, with a thick italian accent. “Do you have a free table for me and my friend ?”

Mello hadn’t noticed the person who was with Frozzi, but when the ‘friend’ he had brought walked into the light, Mello almost dropped the plates he was holding.

Because it was Near.

Fucking Near.

It was weird to see him without his usual pajamas, though he was still under-dressed for a place like this, with his too-large shirt and his pants that were falling on his shoes a little bit, but it was him, no doubt about that, with his ghost-like figure and his big, grey eyes. He probably felt Mello’s gaze on him, for he turned his head toward him and offered him a small, amused smile. He wasn’t surprised at all, he knew Mello would be there.

Great.

“What are you doing here ?” he silently mouthed to the albino’s address, whose smile widened a little more, becoming even more annoying, with very little effort from Near’s part. Typical.

The manager lead the two newcomers to a table, and Mello noted that it was in Patricia’s zone and quickly looked for her : she was talking to the barman ( who was also her boyfriend, it seemed ). He rolled his eyes and didn’t lose one second before interrupting their conversation.

“Patricia” he said “I take the 12, okay ?”

“Uh ?” she blinked, her slow, little brain trying to understand what he was saying to her. “Yeah, yeah, alright, whatever you want Marv’”

And she went back to her discussion with her boyfriend and Mello knew he had very, very little time to act. He could throw all his plan through the window, because nowhere was there an indication for the case where Near would be Frozzi’s… what ? date ? The idea was… ridiculous.

He picked a bottle of wine and put on his bet smile before heading toward Table 12.

“Good evening, gentlemen” he said. “Would you care for a glass of wine ? On the house, of course ?”

Frozzi nodded, obviously thinking that his social and professional status was the cause of this attention, and Mello filled his glass.

“Just a little for me, thank you” Near mumbled.

Mello offered him his brightest smile and dropped the bottle. It exploded on the marbled floor, projecting shards of glass and wine everywhere, especially on Near’s outfit - one knew how to touch its target or not, right ?

“I’m sorry” he apologized, looking at Frozzi’s face, all red and angered by the incident. “I’m sending you someone to take care of the glass. As for you ( he took Near’s arm and forced him to stand up ) I will show you the way to the bathroom. Again, my apologies.”

Without waiting for Frozzi to react, he dragged a wine-scented Near to the bathroom and the other boy didn’t put up a fight, beside looking at his stained clothes with distaste.

“There were news” he began when they were finally alone. “Rester bought them yesterday, it was pretty expensive.”

“Who gives a shit ?” Mello snapped, a little too loud, and threw a expectant look at the door, waiting to see if someone had heard him. Nothing. “Will you explain me what the fuck you are doing here ?”

Near shrugged. In the bathroom’s pale lightning, he looked even more sickly than usual. With the red stains all over his outfit, he looked like a corpse. Something that would have been tempting, years ago.

“I guess you could call that having a date. Could I have other clothes ? I really don’t like the smell…”

“What do you mean, a date ? Since when do you have dates with mafia boss ? Wait, scratch that, since when do you have dates at all ? You don’t do dates, you’re… you !”

Mello wasn’t particularly proud of the way his sentence ended but Near had never expressed any interest in the rest of mankind. Nevermind romantic interest.

“Any other day I would be happy to have a conversation on this topic, but for today, you’ll have to accept that I, indeed, do dates. As for the mafia boss part ? Hum… ( Mello’s eyes narrowed, because Near had this shit-eating grin proving that he was about to be an asshole with his next sentence ) I think I may have a type, what do you think ?”

Mello thought about Frozzi, huge and brown-haired and definitely way older than Near - he was thirty-five, almost thirty-six - and frowned.

“How the hell could I know what your type is, you weirdo ? I don’t care, I just want to tell you that I was on the case first, and you are not stealing it from me, I’ve worked hard on my plan and I won’t let anyone take it away from me.”

“I really don’t know what you are talking about” Near lied, even though he didn’t look like he was lying because Near was way too good at this. “Can I get other clothes ? I’m afraid my date won’t be happy to see me coming back just as disgusting as before ?”

Good, Mello thought.

“Also we spent a very long time in there. If I came out without anything different on me, it would be suspicious.”

Oh, fuck you.

Five minutes later, Near walked out of the bathroom all dressed in black - but not in leather, because the world was just not ready for that, in Mello’s opinion and will never be - after he washed off the stains on his skin with the hand soap and surrounded himself with a heady scent of strawberry.

Someone had cleaned up the glass and the wine when they came back and Frozzi was fumbling with his phone - which tingled Mello’s sense and set the alarms off, even if Near didn’t seem too bothered by it.

“I’m back, sorry for making you wait.”

“Ah, not at all, Neal, not at all.” replied Frozzi, looking up with a charming smile. “These clothes are… different ?” he glared at Mello, as if he hadn’t improved Near’s look by his generous act.

“Yes” Near said. “Don’t you like it ?”

His voice was as dull as ever, as if he was trying to spit out some lines he would have learned from a random show on tv. Which was a possibility, Near had some really strange hobbies, after all. He resisted the urge to roll his eyes and let them alone, while doing his best to spy on them whenever it was possible ( which wasn’t as often as he wished, for his main area was a little far away from Near and Frozzi’s table ). They were talking quietly, too quietly for Mello to hear them, and Frozzi smiled a lot, touching the albino’s hand multiple times, while Near didn’t react.

It was fine, Mello decided. He could still slip the tracker in Frozzi’s bag. It was even easier since he didn’t have to avert someone else’s attention : Near was a pain in the ass but he wouldn’t say anything if he saw what Mello was doing.

The tracker hidden in his closed fist, he approached them swiftly, pretending to check on the barman ( Patricia wasn’t there anymore, maybe she was finally working a little ), or on some other table where a family was already eating.

And then he saw it. Frozzi slipping something in Near’s glass.

Poison. It was the first thing Mello thought. Frozzi’s ennemies tended to die, poisoned. So that was it : if Mello still didn’t know why Near was with Frozzi, it was obvious that the mafia boss had found out about him and was decided to kill one of L’s successor. Or maybe he didn’t even know about it, maybe Near had been stupid - as weird as it sounded - and was investigating him himself, and because he had the subtlety of a truck, the guy had guessed what he was trying to do.

Stupid Near. Who didn’t seem to react to the poisoning of his drink. When Frozzi raised his glass to propose a toast, Near followed him.

He had to do something.

He almost ran until their table.

“Oh, are you celebrating something ?” Mello asked, forcing them to put their glass down. “What kind of celebration ? Anniversary of your couple, maybe ? Should I ask the chief for something a little more… festive ?”

Frozzi glared at Mello. Mello didn’t dare to look at Near. It wasn’t the moment to try to give him a silent message, it was the time to save his ass, again.

He really hoped that would give him some points

“We’ll be fine without your antics, thank you” he barked.

“Oh, come on !” Mello replied, and he took their drinks in his hands. They were both half-full of red wine, without distinctive mark on them, and he went to the bar, asking for a couple of these ridiculous little umbrellas used for cocktails to put into their drinks.

“Here” he said, bringing back their glass, making sure to give the poisoned glass to Frozzi, just in case he was stupid enough to get back to his plan, though the odds were low. And indeed, Frozzi’s face was ugly, twisted by his rage.

“Which one was yours ?” he asked to Near, throwing any pretense of niceness by the window.

Near shrugged and pointed at Frozzi’s glass. He was still playing the ‘innocent’ card, but there was no way this wasn’t an act, not with everything happening around him.

“This one, I think ? It seems a little fuller ? Or maybe I’m wrong, I’m sorry I didn’t notice”

Frozzi’s eyes narrowed, and Mello could guess that his brain was processing what just happened. He glared at both of them, and Mello saw him do the movement he had seen other mafiosi do so many times, fumbling in his pocket for his gun.

“Shit” Mello mumbled. He didn’t even have this gun, why didn’t he have his gun ? Rule number one : always have your gun. His eyes travelled around the restaurant, trying to look for an escape when…

CRAAAAASHPL

Near crashed the wine’s bottle over Frozzi’s head who passed out immediately because of the shock. Once again, shards of glass were sprayed around the table, and the wine gave a beautiful, crimson color the the scene.

Everyone in the restaurant was looking at them, wide-eyed, unable to understand what had just happened.

“It’s fine” Mello said. “This guy was being a little too forward. Please respect the personal boundaries of your partners or it could happen to you.”

Mello swore Near was smiling, his weird little smile that was so annoying most of the time, but was flattering on this occasion. Unfortunately, someone stood up and went to look for the manager. Time to fly, I guess.

“We need to go, puffball” he commented.

Near frowned, he had probably hoped that Mello had let his string of stupid nicknames in the past, but took out his phone.

“Gevanni is there ( he threw a look at Frozzi’s body, still unconscious ). Is he dead ?” he asked.

“Nope, your boyfriend will still be able to take you on dates and to try to poison you in the future. Love survives everything, you know that, right ?” Mello joked, while they moved toward the exit under everyone’s shocked stares.

“We weren’t on a date”

“Wow, you don’t say, could have fooled me, I swear. Wear a better shirt, next time, it might help.”

Gevanni was parked just in front of the restaurant - which was illegal but who cared, really - and they rushed inside.

“I like this one alright” Near said. “Too bad it’s stained with wine, again. As the rest of my person, I should say.”

He was almost pouting, and Mello grinned, leaning until he was able to lick the wine off Near’s lips. The white-haired boy froze, moving away so far that he hit the back of his head against the car’s window.

“You okay ?” Mello chuckled. “I didn’t cross any line, did I ? I would hate to end up like the poor guy inside the restaurant.”

Near looked at him for a long, awkward minute and then shook his head, his cheeks red but his tone still as composed as ever.

“It’s fine. You’re my type, after all.”

[rika-rikachan-blog]

Town Of Salem Redeem Codes Free

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