#ugh bloody bates

[emira-addams]

Hazbin Hotel - Odette x Velvette - Juliet and Juliet in Hell

Chapter 09: We don’t talk about Valentino

In her pyjamas, Velvette shuffled sleepily into the kitchen. She stifled a yawn as she rubbed the remaining sleep from her eyes and opened the fridge.

"Bloody Hell..." Velvette huffed under bated breath as the sight of starving emptiness greeted her. Apart from a large glass of muddy pickle water and a single pickled cucumber floating in solitude, the fridge was empty. Velvette rolled her eyes in annoyance, it had been Valentino's turn to do the shopping this week, before she slammed the fridge door shut rather roughly and fished the box of expired vanilla ice cream out of the freezer instead.

While the vanilla ice cream, decorated with colorful sugar sprinkles, melted away in a bowl and the coffee ran through the machine with a gargling gurgle, Velvette leaned against the kitchen counter and closed her eyes. She sighed sorrowfully as she allowed her thoughts to wander back to last night. In her mind's eye, the scene outside the Carmine estate played over and over again. Again and again Velvette heard herself say her shameless confession and again and again she saw Carmilla's angered and bewildered face before her. "Sorry, I fucked your daughter..." Velvette whispered as she pinched the bridge of her nose. The next chance she got, Carmilla would kill her for this...

"You should have kept your fucking mouth shut, you stupid idiot..." Velvette swore to herself. She grabbed the bowl and her coffee and sat down at the kitchen table.

Just as Velvette was shoving the first spoonful of her improvised breakfast into her mouth, Vox came strolling into the kitchen and scowled in disgust. "That's really gross, Velvette," he grumbled and cringed.

Velvette shot him a very sinister glare. "It was Valentino's turn to do the shopping this week, and the expired vanilla ice cream is all I have!" she complained boisterously. "Besides, I don't have time to order breakfast and wait for that lame-ass delivery service. I have to get back to work." Velvette had been up half the night working on the first stages of Odette's dress, finishing the sketch and sewing the first pieces of fabric together.

"I'll take care of it..." Vox promised half-heartedly. He dug his favorite mug out of the cupboard, the turquoise one with the words "Fuck Alastor" on it, and helped himself to Velvette's coffee without asking. He sat down opposite Velvette with his tablet displaying the latest news.

"I hope you're taking care of this..." Velvette hissed in irritation as she continued to scoop her ice cream. "Otherwise, I guarantee for no hellish life in this fucking household..." She threatened Vox with her spoon.

Vox rolled his eyes and took a sip of coffee. He stuttered and spluttered as his screen began to glitch. "Velvette!" he cursed rather irritably as colorful pixels mixed with his ghastly grimace. Vox quickly spat the coffee back into his cup. "What’s wrong with you? This coffee is way too strong!"

"If the coffee's too strong, you're too weak... I need the caffeine, I've been working on Odette's dress all night and I want to continue after breakfast," Velvette claimed. She emptied her cup with quick sips.

"Good morning, my dear family!" Valentino cheered as he entered the kitchen with his arms outstretched and his bathrobe untied. For once, the Moth-Demon seemed to be in a good mood, a broad smile plastered across his face. He gave Vox a very affectionate and very wet kiss and sat down next to Velvette.

"Ugh..." Velvette suppressed her gagging. "Could you please tie your robe?" she demanded as she closed her eyes and desperately tried to banish the images from her mind. "This sight is really disturbing!"

Suddenly, the front doorbell rang.

"No, I love the fresh breeze," Valentino announced proudly as he rose from his chair to answer the door.

"Valentino!" Vox called after him. "Tie your bathrobe before you open the door, please!"

"Never!" Valentino shouted back.

Velvette desperately tried to get back to her breakfast when suddenly a very familiar voice reached her ears. Velvette's spoon clattered to the floor and she gasped as she choked on some sugar sprinkles.

"Good morning, Valentino..." Velvette heard the familiar voice of Carmilla Carmine. "I'm here because I need to speak to Velvette. Is she here?"

"What's that bitch doing here?" Vox asked, confused, while Velvette tried not to choke on sugar sprinkles and forcibly suppressed her cough to avoid alerting Carmilla of her presence.

"Ugh... Oh, no... Oh, no, that's bad... That's bad, very bad..." Velvette gasped in panic. "Now it has been my last hour. Carmilla is here to kill me. She's going to behead me and impale my severed head and keep it as a trophy. My head will spend the rest of eternity on her desk as a paperweight and Rosie will devour the rest of my beautiful body!" She jumped up.

"What are you talking about, Velvette?" Vox tried in vain to calm her down.

"Never!" Velvette declared with determination and grabbed the dirty frying pan from the stove. "I'll beat Carmilla to it!" Armed with the frying pan and still in her pyjamas, Velvette stormed to the door.

"Velvette, stay here!" Vox called after her. "You won't be able to defeat Carmilla with a frying pan!"

Velvette ignored Vox, instead she now overheard Valentino trying to persuade Carmilla into playing the lead role in his next movie. Carmilla grimaced in disgust as Valentino's long tongue traveled up and down her arm.

Velvette felt hot and cold at the same time. "Valentino!" She grabbed the collar of his bathrobe and tugged him roughly away from Carmilla. "Fuck you, Val! Don't lick my fucking future mother-in-law, Valentino! Fuck, please!"

Confused, Valentino looked back and forth between Velvette and Carmilla. "Mother-in-law?" he repeated. His eyes narrowed into small slits and he blinked in surprise. "Oh, right! You are still dating Carmine's oldest brat!" he announced proudly when he finally remembered. But then his face contorted and Velvette could see the gears turning inside his skull before he gasped with excitement. "Oh. My. Gosh. My baby-sister is going to marry Carmine's daughter and I am going to be a big brother-in-law!" Valentino pulled Velvette into a crushing hug. "I am so proud of you!"

"I am not your baby-sister, Valentino! We are not siblings and you would make a terrible brother-in-law!" Velvette struggled frantically in Valentino's arms. The frying pan landed on the floor with a clatter.

"We are family! You are my baby-sister and Vox is my husband," protested Valentino when Velvette finally managed to free herself from his arms.

"Family or not, you've got a chip on your shoulder!" She tapped her forehead. "Don't fucking try again to lick my fucking future mother-in-law, Val!" Velvette hissed. She quickly ushered Valentino back into the kitchen with Vox, slammed the door shut and picked up her frying pan from the floor.

A red blush covered her cheeks as she adjusted her pyjamas and, armed with the frying pan, faced Carmilla. She cleared her throat. "I must apologize to you for Valentino's behavior..." Velvette said. She avoided looking Carmilla in the eyes. "Uhm... What can I do for you, Carmilla?"

Carmilla raised her eyebrows. "May I come in? I don’t think we should discuss this matter between the doors."

Velvette hesitated, her grip on the frying pan tightening. "I don't know..."

Carmilla sighed before raising her hands in surrender. "I'm not here today to rip your head off," she asserted, "I promise you that I'm only here to deliver a peace offering."

"A peace offering?" Velvette lowered the frying pan, Carmilla's words piquing her interest and her eyes forming into skeptical slits. She eyed Carmilla up and down, before she decided to give her a shot, for Odette. "Uhm... Do you... Do you want to come in?" She gestured towards the living room. "We can talk there."

Carmilla nodded and stepped through the door. She followed Velvette with determined strides to the living room. The sound of the tips of her metal shoes echoed loudly through the hallway.

Velvette suppressed a shudder as an icy chill ran down her spine, Carmilla could kill her. Against her combat experience and her angelic shoes, no one of the three Vees stood a chance. "Uhm... C-Can I offer you a cup of coffee or tea?" Velvette was trying to be a good hostess, for Odette.

Carmilla politely declined the offer. She looked around the chaotic living room with interest when her eyes fell on Odette's incomplete dress, which had been draped half-finished over a stand while several pieces of paper with sketches and sewing patterns flew around. "Pretty..." she said curtly.

"Uhm, yes… Thank you…" Nervously, Velvette picked at her fingernails. "It's a special project of mine..." She hoped that Carmilla wouldn't make the connection between the dress and Odette.

"I see..." Carmilla replied. "Back to business at hand, the peace offering."

Quite the businesswoman, Velvette thought. Carmilla probably didn't want to waste any more time than necessary at this place...

"I'm here to deliver an invitation to you, Velvette. I would like to give you a chance and I expect you to be on your best behavior when you, alongside my daughter, attend Carmine Industries' most important event of the year as an official guest. The event is at the end of the month. Will you accept the invitation and with it my peace offering?"

"Huh?" Velvette blinked in surprise. "Wait? What?"

"Are you accepting the invitation and my peace offering?" Carmilla repeated her words. There was a hint of impatience in her voice.

Suddenly Velvette felt a feeling of enormous relief rise up inside her, Carmilla wasn’t here to kill her and her head wouldn’t become a paperweight on her desk. Her eyes began to light up. "You really want to give me a chance?" she asked, taken aback.

"Yes." Carmilla nodded curtly. "For Odette."

"Thank you!" Velvette squealed with excitement and jumped up and down. "I accept your peace offering!" she announced sincerely before leading Carmilla back to the door.

A slight smile crept onto Carmilla's lips. "I will tell Odette your answer as soon as I get home," she promised. She stepped back through the door.

"Thank you!" Velvette repeated hastily before pausing quickly. Her gaze drifted to the ground. "Uhm… Carmilla?" Velvette asked softly. Feeling insecure, she begann to chew on her lower lip and balled her hands into fists.

"Yes?" Carmilla stopped in her steps. She scrutinized Velvette very sternly while she looked at her expectantly and waited for an answer.

"Uhm... I... I want to sincerely apologize to you for my behavior around you. I'm really sorry, I'll do better for Odette, I promise."

The slight smile grew a bit bigger. "I accept your apology, Velvette," Carmilla replied, a hint of amusement in her voice. "I'll see you around." She bid her goodbye with a silent nod before turning away and leaving Velvette standing there.

Velvette breathed a sigh of relief as she closed the door behind her. Carmilla almost scared her into her second death, this conversation surely could be compared to a near-death-experience.

Velvette smiled, maybe she wouldn't have to pay for the relationship between her and Odette with her hellish life after all...

Interlude:

[darthstitch]

More Things That Never Happened in History Class

5.  Professor Adam Pierson

Professor Robert Gadling and Professor Adam Pierson had a friendly "rivalry" going on. 

Okay, so it was less rivalry and more bawdy Elizabethan drinking songs at the New Inn, copious amounts of beer, and amazing comic routines during each other's classes, topped off with obscure bits of historical anecdotes and trivia that frequently sent students into hysterics, but it worked. 

According to the local grapevine, one of these Professors' boyfriends spent a few long moments being the "green-eyed monster" due to a misunderstanding of Shakespearean proportions.  Swords and duels at dawn were apparently involved. 

It was most certainly NOT the boyfriend who seemed to be the OG Victorian Goth Boy, with a hard-earned PhD in Brooding Moodily and was known all over the campus as "Murphy."

In point of fact, "Murphy" only spent about five short seconds in that deplorable state before he graced Professor Pierson with one of those heart-stealing faint smiles and said, "My sister sends her regards."

Campus history did not record Professor Pierson's reaction to this. 

6.  Not a Cat Dad

Look, Professor Gadling was NOT a pet person.  He was not cruel to animals, mind you, but he was not expecting to foster the tiniest little bit of black and white fluff to ever meow at this point in time.

The problem was said Fluff came with some absolutely stellar credentials.  That being from  the "Cat of Dreams."

"I spent 600 years not knowing your proper name, y'know," sighed Professor Gadling.  "And suddenly I get to find out you have many of them."

"And all of them quite proper, I assure you."

"Even 'Murphy'?"

A sigh.  "I have been called that before, so yes." 

The kitten, whose proper name was trilled by the Cat of Dreams but would therefore be known to humans as Miette, purred contentedly from her basket.  Said basket now served as a paperweight for Gadling's test papers. 

The rest of the class also waited for his decision with bated breath.  It was their fault, the clever little bastards.  They'd been the ones to find the kitten and of course, chose to make their appeal to "Murphy." 

Their long-suffering professor sighed. Gadling's History 101 class would now have a feline mascot.

7.  Prince of Stories

Here's the funny thing about Murphy.

Sometimes, he's just there, sitting in a dark corner, the first person in the classroom.  Sometimes, the light will catch those dark blue eyes in the strangest way, like the reflection of a star. 

Dressed all in black - black coat, black shirt, black pants and black boots - with the signature brooding expression on his face - he really should've been the most unapproachable person, to be honest. 

Except that he isn't. 

It's remarkably easy to sit next to him, for a bit of a friendly chat, while waiting for class to start.  And he has stories to share, if one knows how to listen. 

So many stories.  They linger in your head like fragments of dreams. 

The best listener in Professor Gadling's class is quiet, shy, soft-spoken little Isabel, who suddenly lit up when Murphy greeted her in her native tongue.  And they spent a pleasant 30 minutes chattering away in a mix of Filipino and English which made her feel less homesick. 

Professor Gadling almost didn't recognize her when he finally walked in to start the day's lesson. 

8.   Will vs Kit

"So as you can see, that bloody hack Will Shaxberd -- ugh, Shakespeare - stole all his best lines from Marlowe! " Professor Gadling took a breath and quoted: 

“Where both deliberate, the love is slight: Who ever lov'd, that lov'd not at first sight?"

"Isn't that from 'As You Like It'?" ventured one brave soul in the classroom. 

"MARLOWE RUDDY WROTE IT FIRST!"

There was the discreet crunch of popcorn.  Some enterprising person produced two large buckets and it was now being passed around the classroom.  Professor Gadling was too busy enjoying his rant to call it out. 

And then:  “‘A heart to love, and in that heart, Courage, to make’s love known’"

There is a Filipino word called "kilig" that is the only word adequate enough to describe the delightful shudders that went down the spines of every romantic-minded soul in the classroom once they heard Murphy softly declaim those lines. 

"Oh, you bastard," Professor Gadling breathed.  And then, went on with: "Love is not full of pity (as men say) But deaf and cruel, where he means to pray.”

“Doubt that the stars are fire, Doubt that the sun doth move his aides, Doubt truth to be a liar, But never doubt I love," Murphy responded.  And of course, to add insult to injury, he crowned that with one of his rare, faint, heart-stopping smiles. 

"You absolute pillock.  You complete tosser." And then, the good professor growled, "O, thou art fairer than the evening air clad in the beauty of a thousand stars.  Stop smirking at me, you wanker - the couch now has your name on it!  I'm keeping Miette with me!"

Miette purred.  Loudly. 

"For where thou art, there is the world itself, And where thou art not, desolation."  It was quite unfair, really, how well Murphy could deliver those lines as if it was nothing but the absolute truth, in that soft, deep voice. 

"Awww!" sighed more than one person in the room.

"Are you really going to make him sleep on the couch after THAT, Professor?" Apparently, there was no shortage of courageous folk in Professor Gadling's class.

It was never absolutely clear whether Murphy did spend the night on the dreaded couch, as he was not in class the following day.  However, Professor Gadling was wearing a conspicuously high turtleneck during that class, with a blush on his cheeks that didn't seem to go away during that day and he was in a ridiculously good mood.  So good, that he moved the scheduled exam for the following week. 

Coincidentally, everyone actually did sleep well the night before.  They all had remarkably sweet, pleasant dreams. 

- end -

Note: Yes, Highlander fans, Professor Adam Pierson is exactly who you think he is, including his...uh... boyfriend. 😂

Pesteng yawa ka, Morpheus, lagi na lang akong kinikilig sayo, hayup ka. 😅

[justanotherstarlightmonger]

Vee's birthday project day 4

A/n: This is messy. This is just me unloading alot of pent up angst... BUTTTT I'm still proud of it 😅😅 Plus, I said there'd be angst too so here it is. We'll be back to our regularly scheduled softness tomorrow. But for today, let's get into this angsty pile of flames.

Day 4: Highly encouraged cuddles.

Tagging: @minniesvenus

You lay in bed, staring at your ceiling fan, eyes glazed over as many thoughts ran through your head, taking over each other’s trains and making your mind a bigger mess than it already was. That was the way your mind worked, always bringing up repressed hurtful memories every time the mildest of inconveniences hurt your feelings. 

The most dominant of feelings you felt at the moment was hopelessness. There were many things you wondered often.

You wondered what it’d feel like not having a toxic relationship with your parents. You wondered what it’d feel like not fantasizing about running away from home every waking moment. You wondered how it’d feel like to not have to lie every time you wanted to hang out with the singular friend you had. How it’d feel to not feel guilty for having too much fun two days in a row. To blame yourself as the problem for every problem that arose in your life because no one else was willing to shoulder the blame. To not be surrounded by narcissism, that drained your selfless soul, and had you crying yourself to sleep every night. 

You were exhausted. You wanted out. 

But you were trapped. In a cycle of co-dependency and morals that swirled into the toxic pits of hell and had you gasping for breath.

Your cellphone started vibrating continuously, telling you you had a call. You grabbed it slowly, your heart brightening just a fraction to see “Gukkie” on the screen. You sat up, making sure there weren’t any footsteps headed towards your room and answered. 

“Hey!” you whispered.

“Hi.” he whispered right back, though he wasn’t required to. Your lips curved slightly upwards.

“What do you want Jeon?” you scoffed.

“Sneak out?” he said softly.

Your eyes widened and you checked the time. “It’s almost midnight. Are you out of your mind?”

“Um... well okay then sneak me in.” he sounded a bit too adamant.

“What the heck, we’ll meet in the morning guk, what’s the emergency?”

“Y/n, don’t play with me.”

“You’re the one who’s playing, idiot. You know well enough that I can’t have guys over. Especially not at this fucking hour. So what’s the bloody emergency?”

“What’s the date tomorrow y/n-ie?” his agitated tone softened as he realized you had been overthinking too much about something again, thus making you paranoid and bit annoyed.

“It’s...oh...” you faltered and your heart sank.

“Mhmm.” he said gently. 

Tears pricked your eyes. It was your birthday in an hour. Your stupid birthday. And of course he remembered. Honestly, Jungkook’s birthday was the only one you bothered to remember, since it was the only day you were grateful for someone actually being born. 

Your intrusive thoughts took you immediately to a world without Jungkook, and you couldn’t see yourself in it either. You shook your head and came back to the conversation at hand. 

“Right so... where are you.” 

“Outside.”

This boy....

You leapt off your bed and rushed to the window to see Jungkook standing on the sidewalk behind the bushes that shielded your yard from the main road. 

“Jungkook what the fuck?”

“Surprise!” 

“Hold on, I’ll be there.”

“No. Could you open a window? I’ll come in.”

“But--”

“Y/n, if someone checks up on you, is it easier to hide me under the bed or get caught outside? Don’t get all smart on me now.” he half joked. 

“Ugh, fine. Come up the tree and get on the ledge outside my window.” 

“Oki.” he chirped and disconnected the call, throwing up a thumbs up and jumping over the bushes to reach the tree you had mentioned. As you followed his movements with bated breath, you couldn’t help the adrenaline spike that you felt seeing him doing all that just to be with you.

There was always an ever-present reassurance with Jungkook, that he’d be there. You didn’t know for how long, but you knew even if you lost touch, he’d still be just a phone call away. Your desolate heart felt the initial roots of a soft warmth bloom. 

And then he was on the ledge, just the glass of the window separating him from you. Carefully, you opened the window, holding onto his hand tightly for your own reassurance, until it was possible for him to slip in and immediately immense relief washed over you. 

“Hold on just a moment.” you whispered and tip toed to the door to peak out. The television was playing downstairs and apparently no one seemed in the mood to come up to bed for a little while. You closed the door and turned back to your smiling best friend, and collapsed onto your bed with a dramatic sigh. 

Jungkook was next to you the next moment. “Wanna tell me what’s going on?”

“Mm...maybe in a little while?” you hummed.

“Sure, we have time.” you felt him nod and settle over the comforter. 

Your eyes were closed, “Get inside the covers gukkie, it’s cold.”

“Ooorrr, maybe you just want me in your bed.” he said cheekily.

You snorted despite yourself. You felt calmer now that he was here, your brain wasn’t running as fast and your eyes weren’t welling up. 

“I think there’s a clause in the best friend code that says they should cuddle if one’s sad.” you mumbled.

Jungkook giggled, “It’s actually on page 45.” he joked, “And it’s highly encouraged.”

“Perfect.” you turned to face him and scooted closer. He welcomed you with open arms and soon your forehead was resting against his shoulder.

The most ridiculous heart ache racked through your body as his arms closed around you, and tears escaped your eyes slowly. 

Jungkook wasn’t a fool. He knew you were desperate for comfort. He knew exactly how your family was. And it made him so mad. He wished he could whisk you away, and he had promised himself that one day he would, but for now he was here for you. He’d sneak in through iron bars and safety locks if he had to. He wasn’t gonna let you be alone in this mess of a life. And so he tightened his hug around you and softly patted your head as you curled into him and cried silently. 

When you had calmed down a little, he made you look up at him and wiped your tears. 

“You don’t have to tell me anything. It’s okay. Do you feel any better?”

“A bit lighter if im being honest.” you nodded.

“That’s all we need.”

You nodded again. 

You lay side by side in silence for who knows how long, your hand lying on top of his, which he’d squeeze gently at intervals just to make sure you hadn’t fallen asleep.

It felt like hours later when you hear footsteps at the foot of the stairs and you both jumped to action. You grabbed the laundry sitting on your chair and threw it on top of Jungkook who was fully inside the comforter by now, and slipped back inside, heart thundering as you recognized your mom’s footsteps nearing the door. 

Under the covers, Jungkook wrapped an arm around your waist and whispered a soft, “It’s okay, breathe.” to your back and you gasped for air. 

The door opened and your mom peeked in.

“Oh, you’re awake?”

“Um yeah... I was waiting for midnight.”

“Midnight...” then realization dawned on her face and venomous acid boiled in your stomach realizing your own mother didn’t remember your birthday, “Oh right, yes. Well, would the birthday girl like something special for dinner tomorrow?”

“I was actually wondering if I could stay out for dinner with my friend tomorrow?” You wanted to stay as far away from this cursed house any chance you could.

Jungkook’s arms tightened around you marginally. 

“Um... well. Maybe if you come home after school and help with some chores.”

You nodded. “I will.” 

“Ok, I’ll order pizza for lunch then. Oh and y/n,” she stopped just as she was exiting, “I want that laundry organized before you leave tomorrow morning.”

This time Jungkook’s arm tightened much more strongly and you felt another shot of adrenaline. Fighting back a smile you nodded again.

“Goodnight.” and then the door shut again and she was gone. 

You gasped as you felt Jungkook’s phone sound a merry little tune as a reminder told him it was midnight. He slid it shut and was hugging your middle enthusiastically, whisper shouting, “Happy birthday y/n-ieeee”

You giggled in the palm of your hand. “Gukkie, get out of there, I swear it feels weird to be hugged by a pile of laundry.”

The t shirts that covered his head fell off then as he sat up, hair sticking up. “Happy birthday!”

“Thank you.” you smiled genuinely for the first time today and threw your arms around his shoulders, hugging him properly. He squeezed you almost protectively and made a wish in his heart.

As you pulled away, the smile still sitting faintly on your lips, he said softly, “We’ll get you out of here this year. I promise okay.”

Jungkook never made promises he couldn’t keep.

[theogony]

Double Punch Entendre

A/N: Written for the @sixofcrowsbb <3 it was a pleasure joining everyone was super nice !! thank you so much Kenny ( @sunshinebunnie )for being an amazing beta and helping me bring this. meme to life <3 and cai (@bisexualoftheblade )! I am still going to take lessons from you after this on coding and thank you for the lovely podfic (link here) - working with the two of you were lovely and was a great experience <3

-oh. there's a body.

Nina kneels beside her, nudging the boy, before looking back up with wonder.

“He’s out cold,” she voices, oozing concern, but Inej can tell that there’s a very small part of her that’s desperately trying not to laugh.

oh, Inej thinks again, rather belatedly, as she finally processes the leather jacket, the studded ear, the vaguely familiar face. I just knocked out Kaz Brekker.

\\\

-Or, where he's a punk, and she does ballet, what more can I say?

[Also featuring an overzealous Nina Zenik, an overly flirtatious Jesper Fahey, and a too-blushy-for-his-own-good Wylan Van-eck. ]

READ ON AO3!

"I heard that Kaz Brekker ripped out someone's eye yesterday and the blood spot from it is still on the staircase. Not a single scratch on him."

"Ugh, no wonder that little freak was missing yesterday. You couldn’t pay me to mess with him."

As she opens her locker, Inej turns away from her half-hearted eavesdropping, the rest of her mind engaged with her day plans. With a full day of school and dance practice now, she figures that if she hurries to the bus stop, she'd have enough time for an iced mocha at the Dregs Cafe. Of course, after she got home, it was another hour of plies and arabesques, as well as another two hours of preparing for the approaching test-

"Earth to Inej -"

Nina frowns at her, her hands on her hips and her brows furrowed. "Are you even paying attention to what I'm saying?"

“Um.” Inej removes her outdoor shoes and slips into her pointe shoes.

“Inej.”

"Nina!" Inej huffs, knowing where this conversation is going.

Wylan pops out of nowhere, his arm around Inej's neck, having apparently overheard the last few words of their exchange.

"Nina, give her a break - she hasn't even changed yet and you're already harassing her for free waffles."

Miffed, Nina abruptly tugs his ear, hand wagging like an impatient grandma as she berates him for "monopolising their bank" - though to little effect, as Wylan is plainly having the time of his life, trying to hold in his laughter, and then failing when his cheeks are faintly red. Rolling her eyes at their comedy duo, she quietly slips off to change, ignoring the ruckus that emerges midway through her braiding her hair into a bun. As she makes her way back, what strikes her as odd though is the eerie silence that pervades the locker room - obscured by a large crowd which she slips her way through, frowning.

Nina's clearly restrained by 5-6 bigger thugs, hand and lip bloodied, and Inej almost misses the sight of Wylan's small frame in the corner, covered by a much larger guy who's clearly trying to strong arm him into agreeing to something. As she quietly stalks forward, she hears an awful, grating voice and sees a snaking finger curl around a loose curl, pulling it - and Inej suddenly sees red.

"You," she says, pointing a finger with the most fury she can muster as the boy abruptly swivels, "have the most annoying laugh I've ever heard."

Maybe it's simply because he's a major asshole, but really, no one can blame her if she moves forward, rearing back her arm hoping to smash something - if not an eye, at least a cheek.

What she doesn't expect though, is a sudden scramble - as though he was almost jerked back - yet a collision into something warm, something smooth, and a surprising sort of grunt that abruptly breaks off.

There's a bated silence, and Inej rubs her knuckles, frowning slightly at the red forming between them, from hitting something with too much force, before looking down at the-

-oh. there's a body.

Then everything breaks into pandemonium.

"Did you see that?"

"Oh shit, I had no idea the ballet department's spider had it in her!"

Nina kneels beside her, nudging the boy, before looking at Inej with wonder. “He’s out cold,” she voices, oozing concern, but Inej can tell that there’s a very small part of her that’s desperately trying not to laugh.

oh, Inej thinks again, rather belatedly, as she finally processes the leather jacket, the studded ear, the vaguely familiar face.

I just knocked out Kaz Brekker.

How could she have missed it before? The sharp jawline, the deepening frown, and the sliver of a tattoo exposed beneath his jacket sleeves.

Now though - there's also a purplish bruise on his left temple, with darker blotches the size of Inej's knuckles. When Nina goes over to pinch his cheek, his eyes remain closed and don't even flutter.

A sense of calm envelops Inej, the same resignation she imagines one would feel if they were sentenced to death, knowing their time is running out and they only have so many hours to contemplate their life. The only difference is that instead of the electric chair, she will have to choose between two options: A) the principal, which means suspension or, in the worst-case scenario, expulsion, or B), the much worse-case scenario - Kaz Brekker's wrath.

Onlookers still shriek at each other, some taking pictures with their phones, others yelling for the nurse to come (someone even calls for an ambulance initially). Ignoring them all, Inej braces his arms over her shoulders, Nina following suit a few seconds later, carefully lifting him to the stunned stares of the remaining spectators. Wylan raises an eyebrow but says nothing, and he falls into step behind both NIna and Inej as they walk toward the infirmary.

When they arrive at the infirmary, the nurse instructs them to place Kaz in one of the two beds and gently arranges his limbs so that they are straight along his sides, fingers curled loosely. Much to Nina's chagrin, the nurse forces her to bandage her wrist, and so the turbulent storm that is Inej's best friend departs, leaving behind a quiet Wylan and pensive Inej.

"I'm sorry-"

"I didn't mean to interfere-"

The conversation between them comes to a halt because of their words said in unison - and, unable to stop themselves, they both start laughing. The conversation dies down, leaving Inej to mull over her funeral arrangements in comfortable silence - because there's no way Kaz Brekker is leaving her alive - the least she can do is probably try to wager a not so bloody destruction.

A loud crash interrupts her thoughts for the umpteenth time that day, and the harsh footsteps that follow remind Inej in an eerie way of Nina's bubbly nature and inability to not draw attention to herself (as it should be - I'm important! a ghost Nina chimes in her head).

"So you're the one who knocked him out! Nice to finally get a face to the whispers of the spider."

Inej is too busy gaping at the horrific combination of green plaid and bright yellow trousers rather than addressing the boy who now who greets her, though not for long - his eyes stray to Wylan instead, whose eyebrows are now disappearing into his hair as he too stares down the - atrocity that the guy's wearing.

"So anyway, ignoring our current situation.. - the name's Jesper - here and queer and to strike fear and all of that show biz -  though right now I'm here to pick up our good friend Kaz over in that bed", and saying so, he walks over to Kaz, whistling through his teeth as his eyes widen at the purpling bruise.

"Yeah... unfortunate circumstances indeed - I'm Inej. Inej Ghafa and uh... I'm.. really sorry about what happened to your... friend?"

Jesper's eyes widen, and he laughs before facing her with a grin.

"Nah, don't sweat it - he needs the occasional sense knocked into him anyway. Though who's your.. friend?"

Wylan jolts, a little offended, rounding on him with a frown which contrasts brightly with Jesper's sharp grin.

"I'm Wylan - and I can speak for myself!"

As Wylan and Jesper begin to bicker (it's... one-sided though, with Jesper clearly being amused), Inej is left to look down at Kaz's face again. It’s hard to believe he’s so violent, Inej thinks—right now he just looks - peaceful. But he has a wiriness to him, and although she's never seen him in action, she's heard the stories— perceptive as a crow, strikes brutal and precise. While Inej isn't thrilled that their first meeting occurs while Kaz is unconscious, she is relieved that she won't have to witness the rage firsthand. Maybe she'll be able to slip away before the nurse releases him, and Kaz will have to deal with the fact that he doesn't know her face when he starts the hunt. That should at the very least give her a good head start—

Kaz groans as the nurse suddenly comes into view, Nina in tow - causing the group of teens to rapidly speak over each other.

"What happened?"

"Do you mind taking your friend and leaving the premises before I throw you out myself for monopolising the infirmary?"

"Guys, I think we should get out.."

"Well.... I don't know about you Wylan, but I sure wouldn't mind you staying-"

"GET OUT!"

As she, Nina, and Wylan frantically escape the nurse's wrath, Inej is convinced that a) the nurse either has really good timing - or b) Kaz has really bad luck - or c) the universe has suddenly decided to give her a life extension in return for some good deeds she'd done.

-

Jesper's too busy staring off dreamily into the distance, the sounds are way too loud for him to exactly process what exactly just went on, and realistically - his cheek is still smarting from that punch. Resigned to his fate, Kaz simply frowns - preoccupying himself with trying to conjure up the silhouette of that girl who... punched and then carried him here. huh.

"Do you think I have a chance with that guy?"

Kaz coughs before curtly answering, stowing away his irrational feeling towards.. whoever that girl was for another evening.

"No way in hell."

"Oh shit, you're awake?"

-

As far as last days go - not that Inej has had much experience on the brink of death, regardless of rumours - she supposes this one is quite nice. Nina and Wylan (her best friends, even though they may be aggravating at times) accompany her to a café when she finishes baking the reconciliatory present, and Nina offers her her last waffle. Inej doesn't even protest about the missing half. When they've finished eating, she walks with them to the dance school, diligently practising her plies and deciding that for a change she would listen to Tante Heleen (the sub whom Nina refers to as Tante Hell. affectionately, apparently.) — she considers this something of a last hurrah, and thus decides to squeeze every last bit of enjoyment out of her few remaining moments.

"C'est la fin pour aujourd'hui... N'oublie pas de pratiquer tes arabesques. Spécialement Nina - perds du poids, mon dieu!"

Instead of hurrying out of the room like they both normally do, Nina's abnormally quiet as she unlaces her flats, pulling her hair down as though vexed.

"Nina..."

"Par pitié, laisse-me tranquille! eugh, that absolute - ducon of a woman doesn't know what she's going on about. maybe she should try looking in the mirror before insulting an actual student! But enough of me - you know I don't care much about that Hell's opinion anyway. The gift's prepared, isn't it ? And there's only one place Brekker can be anyway, you know that."

The subject change is swift, and even though there's still a tinge of concern laced into Inej's face, it's for the greater part reassured by Nina's outburst, replaced with a hint of fear and sudden indecision.

"Do you think he'll like it?"

Nina rounds on her, before jabbing her finger into her chest with a resounding "oomph".

"Girl, why wouldn't he like it? Kaz Brekker may be a gang leader but that doesn't mean he's a complete emotionless robot. Besides, you're Inej Ghafa - you'd probably be able to charm him even if he was an absolute monster. Didn't we go over this - it's not that deep. You'll survive. and even if you don't, I'm sure you'll be able to haunt his ass from the grave."

By the time Nina's finished with her long spiel, they've both reached the end of the hallway where Wylan's been assigned as "scout" and "distraction".

Kaz leans against the wall outside of the abandoned room - the self proclaimed "crow-club" of shady deals and Ravka High -  back rigid and straight, studiously ignoring all the other students in the hall, who are murmuring behind their hands— That's Brekker, isn't it? What happened to his face? Who's crazy enough to have messed with him?

Wylan places a firm hand against Inej's elbow as she swallows, throat suddenly dry again. "Don't worry,  Nina and I will be right over there. We probably won't be able to fight him, but we can buy enough time for someone to secure some tranquillisers."

"Or Inej could just knock him out again," Nina suggests, glancing at Wylan as they both snort - before bursting out laughing.

"...Well, you're not... wrong..”

“Exactly,” Nina smiles. “Now, go get ‘em, tiger.” Inej barely steps foot in the hallway before Kaz quickly rotates around to face her, almost as if he has eyes in the back of his head.

Inej's stomach sinks when she sees that the bruise has seemed to become impossibly worse. Kaz's entire right side of his face is swollen, with the worst of it just next to one of his catlike brown eyes. He's frowning and moving his weight from side to side, arms folded across his chest.

"Your business?"

"Is that... are you going to be okay?"

Kaz blinks, surprised by the question, before awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck before answering.

"It'll take more than that to knock me down."

"... I guess."

The short conversation dithers off, before Kaz levels her with a gaze that's.. somehow not angry.. just.. curious.

"Anything else?"

With a jolt, Inej awakens from her temporary stupor, before busying herself with the short giftbag's ribbon, ensuring it was tight.

"Oh and - this is for you!"

If Inej thought that Kaz looked surprised a few seconds back, it's nothing compared to the face of utter bewilderment as he accepts the bag, turning it over and pulling at the drawstring to the smell of buttered cookies.

"Consider it... an apology? For the other day-"

Kaz stiffens, before immediately going to return the cookies. "I know you didn't do it on purpose, I'm not going to.. come after you or anything."

"Well... that's relieving.. but that doesn't mean you have to return the gift back! I promise my cooking isn't that inedible."

It's only then that Inej notices the faint blush that dusts his pale skin, and she's hit with the sudden thought that it doesn't exactly - not suit him.

"Inej! The bus is going to be here soon!"

Oh shit, she frantically thinks, before pushing the bag into his hands, patting the jacket of his shoulder awkwardly and rushing away with a goodbye - thus missing his forlorn gaze, slowly tracing her fading sillhoute.

-

The next morning at school, Inej finds herself uncharacteristically preoccupied with Kaz Brekker. Her braids are messily done, and she turns around at every half noise, expecting (or was it more of hoping?) to see his expression once again.

Though she still thinks she'd be equally as surprised on any normal day to see Jesper (who's now sporting a yellow tartan jacket from.. somewhere) leaning against her locker, holding a token in his hand.

"I came to bring you this!"

It's a box, and while Inej's first thought is, "Is it a bomb?" Upon opening it, she discovers (much to her astonishment) a little German chocolate cake, covered with icing expertly spun into pale pink flowers. It appears to be delightful, and she looks up for an explanation.

Jesper clears his throat, before grinning.

“This is, an, uh, a gift from Kaz. He got a little tied up this morning so he asked me to give it to you. And to tell you it's only fair that he gets to pay you back. Though if you ask me, he was also struggling to ask you out."

Inej is certain her brain's short circuited, and she hears the distant bark of Nina's laugh.

"What."

"Yeah, though he may put it off for a few days? I promise that he's genuinely not a bad guy, he just gets paralysed easily in social situations - especially when he's around someone he likes. And besides, the way he talked about you....  Trust me, he's really a softie at heart."

Softie. Paralysed around someone he likes. The fact he talked about her.

Inej is fully certain now that it's the extra espresso shots from last week that are causing her to hallucinate.

"Anyway, Kaz is probably gonna try to find you sometime today. Give him a chance, okay? He’s not that bad, I swear.”

The warning bell rings, and even though Inej feels as though she may spontaneously combust, Jesper still lingers, almost bashfully looking away.

"Also... do you by chance... have Wylan's number..?"

-

For the first time in her known memory, Inej is late for class.

-

Inej eats the cake during lunch. It’s all she eats, and she eats the entire thing. By the time she’s finished her brain is buzzing from the sugar rush, but she just hadn’t been able to stop. It was delicious.

"What are you going to say?" Nina inquires lightly, her chin resting on her palm. The way she's grinning like a cat ruins her nonchalance.

"I...I don't know," she admits. "Nobody has ever liked me before... and I'm not sure what to do." When Nina's cough turns into a laugh, she frowns, perplexed.

"Half the girls in ballet and literally all of the mathletes love you, Inej," Nina adds. "You're so brilliant in everything else that you're an idiot when it comes to romance." Inej turns to Wylan for support, but she realises he's too busy tapping away on his phone (and the redness on his face makes it clear who he's chatting to) to pay attention.

"Who knew it only took a cake to win your heart?"

"He didn't capture my heart!" Inej argues halfheartedly.

"Inej, the fact that you're bothered by this at all suggests otherwise", Nina continues, eyes softening.  "All I'm saying is that maybe it's time you be honest with yourself?"

-

Inej normally doesn't leave class so early, skipping up the stairs with a spring in her step, but somehow Nina's not surprised by the fact she's ditched her.

"Did you bake it yourself?" She blurts out, rounding the corner, almost crashing into a very surprised Kaz. The cake was perfectly moist, and the icing wasn't too sweet - but it didn't taste like it had been bought—it tasted like it had been made with care, and Inej is instantly struck by the mental image of Kaz Brekker with an apron.

"Did you enjoy it?" Kaz asks in turn, his eyes downcast as though bracing himself for.... rejection?

"I did it. It was delicious."

"That's... good." He sounds pleased, and it's only now that Inej takes a step closer, provoking Kaz to look up, bright eyes wide. Inej doesn't know Kaz. She has no idea what he loves to do (other than fight), she has no idea how he thinks about ballet, and she has no idea whether they have anything in common. But she does know one thing.

I want to get to know you better.

"Have you ever tried the nearby cafe's waffles?"

Kaz's eyes are wide like saucers, before he shakes his head.

"Well, I have ballet now, but after that, do you think you'd like to come with me? We don't have to have waffles, though I promise they're very good as well."

Despite the fact that her voice drifts off, she doesn't remove her piercing stare. She wants to learn more about this boy because, despite everything, her heart is still thumping so loudly that she can feel it in her throat.

"Sure," Kaz finally agrees, a bit breathlessly. "I would be honoured, Inej."

And Inej smiles, knowing this could be the start of something worthwhile.

comments and reblogs always appreciated! <3

[toothpastecanyon]

Deceive, Distrust, Destroy - Chapter 1

Alcor has grown up with his sister time and time again. It's a chance to relax, to forget for a little while... a chance that can easily be weaponised.

Thank you so much to @feferipeixes for beta reading this!!

See most updated version on Archive of Our Own.  

______________________________________________________________

“I need you to save my daughter.”

If there was anything consistent about Alcor, it was how consistently he made the stupidest choices in the multiverse.

That was what Oz’darthic Of Shadows thought, anyway. So many times had she watched Alcor wrap himself in the body of a human child and forgo his power… it made no sense! Where was the benefit? What was his plan? He didn’t even try to mess with the lives of those around him - it was a shameful display, really.

    Shameful, that the most powerful demon in the world was so very weak. If only the tables were turned, if only she could wield the power of the Dreambender… well, those mortals down on Earth would finally get a taste of what demons were truly capable of.

    If only.

But, barring that, she had been hatching up another plan, making deals, playing muse to a few arrogant humans. All the pieces were lining up, and just now, she’s waiting to see if this last one will fall into place - or if it will blow up so catastrophically she won’t take form again until the end of the universe.

    It’s night, in front of a sleepy family house. All the lights are off, but the moon illuminates a man standing before the driveway… and the knife in his hand. His fists ball up as he passes through a flaw in the wards, unlocks the door, steps inside.

For a moment, nothing. Not a sound. Another moment, then-

A scream. Crying, yelling, footsteps rushing down the hallway. The lights flash on and something bangs against the walls, and then it’s all drowned out by him.

Even Oz’darthic flinches a little at Alcor’s terrible roar. To attack a Mizar so brazenly - she doesn’t envy the weaker demon she forced inside. She feels its soul be shredded into tortured mist, and waits with bated breath to see if she’ll be next.

Maybe he’ll think this is too suspicious. Maybe. She can feel how he pauses at how weak, how mindless this demon is - it should have sensed his mark on Mizar and left her be. Why didn’t it? And how did it possess someone? Why-

But then, to Oz’darthic’s eternal relief, a cry. It cuts through the Dreambender’s thoughts, and now he’s rushed over to tend to the helpless mortal… all according to plan.

She curls her lip at that. What a predictable thing Alcor was. No demon should be this easy to trick.

Shaking her head, she steps back into the Mindscape. That was the most important step. There’s still things left to do, portals left to finish, sacrifices yet to receive… but it’ll all fall in place in the coming few years. She’s not worried about any of that. Once Alcor shakes hands with those puny mortals, there’ll be nothing standing between them and a delicious little apocalypse of her own.

“No, can’t you see, she won’t make it to a hospital! It has to be me. I promise this isn’t a trick, she’s special to me… take my hand. Let me save her. Please.”

A flash of blue flames brings a smile to Oz’darthic’s face. It is done.

______________________________________________________________

“Maeve! What’s the ETA on that light?”

“I dunno, I just opened it up!”

“Is it just a burnt out bulb? I hope so. That’s a quick fix.”

“I said, I just opened it up.”

“Sorry.”

    Maeve rolled her eyes as she opened the casing. The wires were all lit up with a flashlight’s beam… but then it shifted away. She glanced back, and saw her brother looking up at the sky.

    “Sun’s going down fast,” he said, and flinched when she smacked his shin. “Huh?”

    “We’ll be here all bloody night if you don’t hold the flashlight steady.”

    “Oh, sorry! This good?”

    “Yeah, keep it there.” She picked up her multimeter with her good hand and leaned in. Dipper watched her for a second, tried to keep the flashlight angled over her shoulder… but his eyes kept being drawn to the sky.

The end of the world had the most beautiful sunsets. The red skies cast deep shadows through the ruined houses, through the cracks in the decaying streets, through the rows of budding crops in the field before him. A little darkness fell on his foot, and he moved it away.

You could never be too careful.

    “Stupid… fecking…”

    “Maeve?”

    “Yeah, hand me the bulb, Dipper.” She stuck her hand out. “You were right. They called us out here to change a bulb.”

    “Why do you sound annoyed?” He raised an eyebrow. “It’s a quick fix, isn’t it?”

    “Yeah, it’s so quick they could’ve done it themselves!” The lights flickered on, bathing the crops in stark white light, and she threw her hands up in the air. “There, done! Four years of engineering and I’m stuck doing this.”

“Aw, it’s not that bad.”

“Aren’t you the optimist,” she grumbled. She closed the casing, and the broken bulb slipped out of her hand. “Oh, you little… ughhh.”

She reached down, behind the light, into the shadows. A part of her brain sounded alarms at that; she hesitated, and then-

    Something grabbed her hand.

Maeve swore and jumped back and the creature came with her; it was a hulking voidlike mass of spines, far larger than the patch of darkness it came from, snarling and digging its claws deeper into her wrist.

A jolt of fear ran down her spine, but it only served to steel her. Without hesitating she drew a warded knife from her belt and slashed the thing where it was gripping her - it let go with a terrible screech.

“Maeve!”

“Dipper!” She motioned at him. “Flashlight!”

He shone it right at the creature, and it shrank back with a hiss. They watched it slink back into the shadows, becoming formless as it left the light, disappearing into nothing.

Nothing, and everything. Maeve stared out into the night, into the endless darkness that surrounded their little field… and couldn’t help but shiver.

“Maeve!” A hand on her shoulder. “Are you alright?”

She felt a stinging in her hand, and looked down. “Huh? Yeah, I’m alright.” She flexed her wrist. “Nothing seems broken. We’ll patch me up back at camp.”

“Yeah, we really should be going.” He kept his hand on her as she fished her flashlight out of her bag. “Need me to carry anything?”

“I told you I was alright, didn’t I?” She shrugged him off. “We’re done here. Let’s go.”

The two of them started making their way back, sweeping their beams across the broken road they travelled down. Grass had grown through the cracks in the tarmac, and on each side sat cars rotting in front of dilapidated old houses. Darkness loomed in those mossy windows; Maeve resisted the urge to shine her light at them, get a proper look. It was too dangerous to be distracted.

Too dangerous to do much of anything, these days.

The street opened up before them into a parking lot. Before them was one, single lit building; lights streamed out of the windows of an old Sainsbury’s supermarket, and a couple flickering floodlights lit up a patch of farmland right in front. Dipper started walking a little faster when he caught sight of the lights; Maeve rolled her eyes and followed.

“We’re nearly home!”

“Yeah, we’re nearly at camp.” She rolled her eyes. “I told them that field’s too far away. If we ran out of soil we should’ve just broken up the tarmac more, but does anyone listen to me, noooo…”

“What was that?”

“Nevermind, just grumbling.”

“Heh,” Dipper rubbed his head. “You do that a lot, don’t you.”

They crossed the parking lot, turning off their flashlights as they reached the crops. Maeve ran her palm over the leaves as they passed; it felt cool on her skin, calming.

The doors slid open as they approached, and the light and the sound of chatter put a lump in her throat. Dipper stepped through without hesitation; she took a breath, and followed.

Ding.

“There you are!”

Before Maeve’s eyes could even adjust, arms came around her. Her vision went dark as she was pressed into someone’s shoulder.

“I’m so glad you’re okay!” Squeeze. “It was getting so dark - what took you so long? You said you’d be back before sunset!”

“Hi, Mum!” Dipper drew back, a smile stretched across his face. “Sorry, we didn’t mean to stay out late. We were heading home, but-”

“Oh my god!”

She seized Maeve’s hand - Maeve stiffened at that, stepped back and ripped her hand away.

“Wait, you’re bleeding!” Her mother made another grab for it. “Just let me help, baby, I-“

“It’s fine.”

“But-��

“I said, it’s fine.”

Her mother’s face crumpled at that, and there was a pause. Dipper glanced between them, and then cleared his throat.

“Well, the crops are looking good!” He rubbed his head. “Got a pretty good look at them while we were fixing the, uh, light.” Another pause. “Ugh, you know, my head kind of hurts-“

Their mother was on him in a flash. “Oh no, are you alright?”

“I’m alright, just, you know, magic-“

“Let’s get you resting.” Their mother led him away. “I’ll get you some water, does that sound good? Alright, we’ll do that…”

Maeve watched them go, and rolled her eyes. She cast one look around the camp, at the others milling about and eating dinner, and then made her way to the near corner of the store. Some makeshift rooms had been created by moving an aisle next to the wall and divvying it up with cardboard and blankets; the closest one was hers, and she slipped inside.

It was cramped and bright - still lit by the store’s lights from above - but it was private, and she breathed a sigh of relief at that. Her hand was really stinging, so she sat down on her mattress and started digging through a mountain of spare circuit parts and screwdrivers they’d taken from a hardware store to find - aha! First aid kit.

Maeve took out antiseptic and a roll of bandages, and stopped to inspect her hand in the better lighting. There was blood, but not too much; the creature seemed to have missed anything important. All there seemed to be was a couple of claw marks, and a long scratch over the scarred stumps of her fingers, ending just before it hit her thumb.

She gave a wry smile at that as she opened the antiseptic with her teeth. At least it got her bad hand. A little spray, a couple bandages, and it’ll be fine.

Once that was done, she sat back on her bed, gave a stretch, and then relaxed with a deep sigh. She stared up at the lights, and could hear people chattering outside her room; their voices had an echo to them in the store that made it hard to hear what they were saying… but Maeve kind of liked that.

She liked not being able to pick out what people were saying, because then she’d have to think about them. She liked hearing her mother’s voice without knowing what she was saying, because whatever it was would surely annoy her, definitely ruin this nice little moment of being left alone for once.

She didn’t get many chances in the apocalypse, so she cherished every one she got.

[tardytothepardy]

Fruits Basket - Vol 22

The snowball that has been tumbling down a hill for these last several books is finally rolling to a halt. I wonder how Akito feels about it. Surely she's not gonna become upset.

Today we arrive with Kyo to Kyo's house, after being told by Hanajima that there's something he needs to do before he can see Tohru. He needs to talk to his dad, and it's gonna be the first time in a long time that he's done it. He's nervous as all hell, he feels nauseous just standing at the front door, but he still follows through. The second his father sees him, he's already in a rage. He yells at the servant(?) who let Kyo in, then zeroes straight on Kyo after Kyo asks why he's home in the first place, it's the middle of the workday, isn't it?

Kyo's father (he never gets a name, as far as I can tell) says that he wasn't feeling well, and it's Kyo's fault because,,, his mom died. Yup, makes sense. After all this time, Kyo's father still rants and raves and insists that it was Kyo's fault that his mother died, and Kyo says, "Yeah, I know it is." Kyo's father starts cackling, asking the servant if she also heard Kyo saying that, then asking for someone to call up the main Sohma house, to get Kyo and throw him in the dungeon (it's not actually a dungeon but I'll always think of it like that), but Kyo says he won't go there. He won't even step foot in that room, because he's going to live outside, because he met someone and he really cares about her, and he wants to be around her for the rest of his life. Naturally, Kyo's father rejects that, saying that there's no way the family would allow that, there's no way that Kyo can go off and try to have a normal life after "what he did", throwing his family into shame by being born (because he totally chose to be the cat, this is common knowledge), and he asks why Kyo's mother had to give birth to Kyo in the first place, which makes Kyo freeze up. He's heard that phrase before, when he was a kid. He hadn't realized it before, but after hearing his father say it, he realizes that it was his father that said it to his mother, "Why did you have to give birth to such a child?". Right in front of said child, by the way. Clearly the man did not and does not care. Kyo asks his father if he was the one who said it, which makes Kyo's father lash out again, how dare Kyo insinuate that he (Kyo's father) is the reason that Kyo's mother (why did neither of these people get a name ;-;) committed suicide, there's no way it's his fault, there was never anything he said or did that would make her do that, obviously, how could Kyo even vaguely say something that could be construed as such, and clearly it is not his fault but Kyo's! It has to be Kyo's fault, it simply has to!

Probably during all that screaming, Kyo thinks about how much he wishes his mom was happy, that she had never felt the way she did that led to her suicide. As a kid, it was difficult for him to understand, but now he does, not that it makes much of a difference. Whether he understood or not, she's still gone.

Finally, Kyo pushes his father away, saying that he won't give up on himself, and that he wants to make the most of his life while he still has it. His father again objects, and tries to grab Kyo, who deflects pretty easily (whoa it's almost like he's been trained for most of his life for scenarios vaguely similar to this) and his father just starts screaming that Kyo is going to kill him. You know what Kyo is doing? He's just pushing away his father's hand. That's it. His father is still screaming bloody murder (which is what he seems to think is gonna happen to him) when the scene jumps to Akito talking to one of the head maids, talking about Kyo, about if they should get someone to take him away, but Akito says that she wants that place destroyed. The maid asks if she thinks Kyo's father will approve, but Akito basically says, "It doesn't matter what he approves, I've decided it will be destroyed." After that, the maid notes that Akito has changed, and that she liked Akito before, but Akito doesn't care. Change, don't change, she'll be trying to progress and move on, even if some people around her object to it. Generally, there seems to be a lot of introspective going on for both of them.

Then we change to see Hiro and Kisa, who is reassuring Hiro that it's not a bad thing that his curse broke, and that no one is going to hate him because of it. If anything, she's happy for him, and is glad that he told her first, out of anyone else. Hiro asks if Kisa hates him now that he isn't part of the Juunishi anymore, and she asks him if he thinks of her any different because she still is. Midway through reassuring Kisa that that wasn't the case, Kyo announces his presence by vomiting behind some bushes. Hiro exclaims how gross that was (I'm not putting that against him, he has no way of really knowing (or understanding) why Kyo did that), and Kisa offers Kyo a tissue, and Kyo straight up basically hallucinates seeing Tohru. (Dang,, he's really affected by all this. He's, if you don't mind me saying this, down bad. Really bad.)

Kyo tries to visit Tohru again, but Hanajima and Uotani block his way completely. I would go into why but I've already said it, but one thing that does happen is that Hanajima and Uotani run into or meet (or something) Akito, who tells them that she's the reason that Tohru had those cuts, and kinda why she got hurt in the first place. She's also the reason why Kureno is in the hospital. Naturally, Akito is very ashamed of this, but surprisingly, Uotani and Hanajima are pretty cool about it. Hanajima tells Akito that Tohru isn't blaming anyone for the incident, so it's better if Akito not beat herself up so much over it, because it definitely won't make Tohru feel any better. As Akito was admitting what she'd done to Kureno, Hanajima straight up asked her if she was a girl, and when Akito didn't say no, suddenly things clicked into place: when Kureno was talking about having to stay by the side of a girl, Akito was that girl. This realization seems to mostly be on Uotani's side, who is also thinking about how much Kureno really means to her. I mean, she interacted with him a handful of times, and that was a while ago. She doesn't really know much about him, only that he seems to have a similar demeanor to Tohru, that sort of blind kindness kinda thing.

Uotani later goes to talk to Kureno, and he says that, to help Akito move on, he needs to leave, go far away. Uotani offers to go with him (after graduation and stuff), because she luh-luh-likes him (she refuses to say it), so that's nice.

Meanwhile, (more like after? Idk, timey wimey stuff) Kyo is heading to Kazuma's house, and he sees Akito walking out the front gate. Huh? What the fuck is Akito doing there? Kyo goes to confront Akito, but all she says is that he can live whatever life he wants to, and she refuses to clarify. Right before the bickering can start, who but Hanajima opens the front gate, asking if Akito is really leaving so soon? (She even uses a nickname, which Akito isn't the biggest fan of) Naturally, that freaks out Kyo. What is that girl doing here? Is she friends with Akito? How did that happen? When did that happen? Then Kazuma pops up, and Hanajima again acts familiar and friendly with him?! How does she do that that's so fucking weird!

Kazuma tells Kyo that he knows that Kyo went to talk to his dad, and that Akito knows as well. He also says that Akito plans for that dungeon room to be destroyed which is nice. Kazuma says that fixing relations between the main house or his personal family won't be so easy, but it was a nice start.

Jumping ahead a little, it seems that Akito has called all of the Juunishi (even Kyo, and we all know how rare that is) to the main Sohma house. She has something that she needs to tell them, and they have no guesses. Haru says that Akito seems to have changed since the whole incident with Tohru and stuff, which is a welcome change, even if it's still strange and confusing. (Personally, in that situation I would definitely have bated breath, because when there's a person that usually is disagreeable at best suddenly changes to being nice, all I can ever do is just wait for them to go back to being nasty. I just can't trust it when people switch like that, it's eerie)

Yuki then tells Kyo that Tohru's getting out of the hospital soon, which causes Kyo to speed off to Hanajima and Uotani, asking if now he can finally see Tohru. They say, "yeah, yeah," then ask him what outfits (because they're paging through a magazine) would look best on Tohru. Kyo has no fucking idea, Tohru could probably wear anything and he'd be fine with it.

Meanwhile, it seems that Yuki has some jealousy(?) concerning Tohru and Kyo. It's mostly because both parties know about the whole zodiac thing, but between him and Machi, that's not the case. There's a considerable risk that the secret came out, or that he tells Machi, and she finds it too weird and she breaks off any little relationship that is starting to grow between them. It'd probably just drop back to acquaintances, or worse: awkward acquaintances, where everyone asks what happened, weren't you guys close? Ugh. That sounds terrible.

So anyway, Yuki's busy worrying about that, it's a whole thing. I think he kinda tries to tell Machi at some point, but Kimi busts in asking about her hairbrush. And though he doesn't succeed in telling Machi, he knows that he has to, because this is a pretty big thing to hide from someone. It's probably difficult and straining to be a couple and you refuse to let your partner be physically close to you without ever telling them why. (Just panic and say that you have an allergy to human skin and admit that you're in complete misery because of it, it's fine, nbd)

The scene switches to Akito talking to Shigure, telling him that she's going to end the whole Juunishi thing. She's tired of all of it at this point, of people treating her the way they do because she's "God". She says that everyone (though I suppose in this scene she's saying this to Shigure specifically) will be released from her, that everyone can go and do whatever they want to do. Shigure says that if that's the case, then he'll be relieved. (I know he's teasing and all, but like, dude, can you maybe not right now?) He gives her a "farewell gift", which she looks fairly distraught about, but we won't see what it is yet, because now I have to describe Kyo's general panick over seeing Tohru again.

So yeah, the day that Tohru is released from the hospital, somehow Kyo almost seemed to forget about it until Yuki brought it up. Yuki wouldn't be going along though, because he has something else to do.

On the way to the hospital, Kyo's just rethinking all the stuff that he's said and that has been said to him throughout this whole thing. Yuki told him to just act normal, the fuck even is normal now? How does he do that? Will Tohru forgive him? What even does he like about Tohru? Does he still like her? What does he like about her? How much about that thing does he like? He has no fucking idea, how does he even talk to her? Then he sees her, none of that shit matters. The only thing that does matter is that he loves her goddammit.

Unfortunately for that romantic moment, the second Tohru sees Kyo, she dashes off. He gives chase after a moment of "oh jeez ;-;".

The perspective shifts to Tohru. She apparently didn't mean to run, her feet just went on their own. It isn't what she meant to do, she did want to see Kyo again, but who has control over their bodies in highly emotional moments anyway? She told herself that when she next saw him, she was going to smile. She practiced doing so, or that what she thought anyway. There's a moment where we see Yuki talking to Tohru while she's still bedridden, and when he tries (very hesitantly) to bring up Kyo, she changes the topic pretty quickly, along with crying literally at his name. It hurts her so much to hear it. She thinks that she's a burden by being unable to let go of everyone. She thinks she needs to move from Kyo after what he said, but she just can't. She meant what she said that she would stay by Kyo's side, even if it turns out he doesn't like her. She tried to not let it bother her, but clearly that didn't happen.

Finally, Kyo catches up to her (a second time, she pushed him away twice in that fantastic emotional upheaval), and she's crying. She's desperately trying to stop, she doesn't want to be a burden, she doesn't want him to hate her, stop crying! He takes her hand, and apologizes for all his bs. He says that he was only thinking about himself, about his own regrets. He ignored her feelings, and he says that he should've known better: the world doesn't give second chances, but he's taking this chance to try to apologize. He then says those magic words that Tohru did not think he'd say at all: he wants to be with her, he doesn't want anyone else, because he loves her. (Holy shit, they both love each other? Now this is a game changer, for sure)

Tohru's completely shocked, and can only muster tiny soft questions like "does that mean i can stay with you?" and "can i hold your hand?" with lots of ellipses, because shock. Kyo points out that she's already holding his hand, and then he kisses her (She does know that that's their second kiss, right? No? Hm, Kyo feels awkward about that). Kyo then pulls her to her feet (she was sitting on a garden wall thingie), and asks if they can hug, despite the whole cat thing. He says he thinks that the curse will probably become an inconvenience to her, but Tohru says that she loves him, and that it doesn't matter, everything will work out. And so they hug and,,,,

nothing happens.

The fuck?!

Before we get to the hug, we get a quick flashback to when Akito visited Tohru in the hospital. Akito admits that she was jealous of Tohru, and that she thinks that Tohru is prettier than herself. Tohru denies that, and asks that Akito not categorize things like that, because when you think like that, you just "use them to seperate yourself out", in her words. She says that she is not without blame, that Akito was just living her life as best she could, despite all the bad stuff that was happening to her. She destroyed Akito's world, essentially, and whether or not it was for better or worse, she still acknowledges that she ended up hurting Akito, a lot.

It goes back to the present, still with Akito, as the curse is breaking for so many of the Juunishi, Kyo, Ayame, Ritsu, Kisa, Kagura, Izusu, Haru, Hatori, and lastly Shigure (no i'm not forgetting anyone, the story isn't finished), and she's telling her father (who is, if you have forgotten, quite dead) that she doesn't have to be "god" anymore, that she can just be herself. She's still scared by that idea, because she is aware of how many people she's hurt, and she doesn't think she has any redeeming qualities, she's just alone, scared, and hurt. After showing all of these people's curse breaking, it circles back to the hospital, where Tohru is again offering her friendship to Akito, so that, if Akito truly feels she has nothing else, then at least she can have that.

Back to Tohru and Kyo, after they hug and he doesn't turn into a cat, it's a feeling of shock, but then Kyo tears off his bracelet, and it breaks, the beads going everywhere, and he doesn't turn into anything. I personally have a very small idea of how fucking elated he must have been about that. This lifelong burden, somehow worse than what the other Juunishi had to deal with, something that he's been shunned for (as if he had any choice in the matter), and now it's gone. It's all done, he doesn't have to worry about that anymore.

Now, before Kyo went off to see Tohru, Yuki mentioned that he had something to do. That Something(tm) was calling Machi, and meeting up. He's planning on telling her about the whole Juunishi thing, just get it out in the air. He feels kinda weird, indescribably, but he figures he's just nervous. Before he can think about it, Machi shows up. This is it: this is when he tells her-- whoa what? There's a little rat (probably a voice in his head, the rat spirit, something like that), and it tells him that he's the last. It thanks him for keeping the promise, and bids him goodbye, walking to the other spirits. Whoa. That's intense. How do you even begin to explain that?

Then, we see the story of the Juunishi, how it started in the first place: There was once this dude who lived all alone, at the top of a mountain. Even after going down the mountain, and seeing other people, he was still alone. Despite having a lot of power and experience and memories, he knew that he was unlike other people, and developed a fear of other people, of getting hurt, and of being different than others. One day, a cat showed up, and said that it had been watching the dude for a while, and it wanted to be by his side, and so it did. This made the dude (he's God, should I just refer to him as "God" rather than "the dude"? Probably) very happy, and he thought that if he can get along fine with one, why not more? Who wouldn't want more happiness? So he made and sent out a bunch of invitations for a nice banquet, and some animals came to it: a dog, a ram, a dragon, a monkey, a rat, a snake, an ox, a horse, a bird, a rabbit, a boar, and a tiger. They all collected and all had a fun banquet for many nights.

Suddenly though, the cat fell over, and everyone was distraught. There's was nothing to be done, his life had run out. This was a reminder that death is inevitable, and can happen before you're ready. This upset all of them, and so God prepared a drink and had the cat drink it. It was the thing that created the bond, and he said that however times that everyone there is born, or dies, they will all be together, and they will always be friends, until the end of time. Everyone agreed to it, and the rat was the first to drink, and the rest followed in their sequential order. After the last had drank, the cat started to cry, and asked why God had forced him to drink, saying that he didn't want eternity. No one had expected this response, and they scolded the cat for it. He continued, saying that he knows that death is scary, but it is important to accept that things come to an end, and that he was happy that he met God. If there was a time when they met again in another life, he wanted it to be a natural thing, and to be surrounded with more than those who were sort of forced to be there.

No one wanted to hear those words, however, and the cat died alone. Eventually, one by one, they started to die, leaving God alone once again. But once his time came, he wasn't afraid, because it meant that he could once again see his friends.

Seeing how that story of friendship had over time been twisted into a curse, a burden, kinda sucks, to be honest. The best of intentions don't always work out though.

Now we're pulled back to Yuki and Machi, who is pretty confused. Yuki tries to explain, that he just said goodbye to someone who has been with him his whole life, and despite it being unpleasant to deal with, he's still emotional about them leaving. He is glad that they have left, because he now has freedom. Freedom to do what, you may ask? To hug Machi, which is exactly what he does. I suppose this is some kinda scandalous pda or something because it shows people walking by blushing or whatever. Maybe it's just the American culture in me, but I wouldn't look twice if I saw something like that. (Whoa, it's almost as if different places have different standards and views and cultures, holy shit) After that, Machi asks if she can use his name (because she's always called him "President" up until now), he says she can, they kiss, it's a whole thing. Very cute stuff. (sorry i summarized that so quickly, idk how to talk about that stuff lmao 😳😬)

I'll just leave it there for now, move onto the next, and last, book.

[ickle-ronniekins]

to have and to hold

request from nonnie: Hey I'm 17 and still sleep with stuffed animals.... can you write something where George finds out and teases you about it? I know I'm a bit weird but I cuddle in my sleep so it's hoard stuffed animals or kidnap my cat (dangerous).

word count: 3.3k

pairing: george x reader

A/N: y’all i love this—totally nothing wrong with sleeping with stuffed animals, THEY’RE SO CUDDLY! and that’s what they’re for! thank you for reading and requesting, i’m so grateful for you all, and in case anyone’s wondering, i’m still irrevocably head over heels for these silly boys. also the title’s a tad misleading but there’s no marriage in this but it’s definitely all FLUFF because i’m a dork

tag list: @mintlibri @georgeweasleyx @seppys-return-to-madness @fopdoodledane @fredd-weasley @iprobablyshipit91 @darling-details @laneygthememequeen @lupinsx @keoghans @helloallthethingsilove @bobduncanlover @dreamer821 | message me if you’d like to be added darlings!

The Sorting Hat cries Ravenclaw! as a young, brown haired girl jumps from the stool and gleefully makes her way over to her respective House table.

Everyone begins to clap, and although he doesn’t feel much like it, George does too.

He’s a bit taken aback when you say to him suddenly, “I can’t believe that was us only a few short years ago.”

Just a few months ago, it seemed as though your seventh and final year at Hogwarts was still a long while away. It couldn’t be creeping up that quickly, could it? You both met only six years ago in Transfiguration, but it feels like a lifetime. George grins at the memory. But now, sitting and watching the newest first years get placed into their Houses, he’s feeling the nerves of the finality of it all—even though you’re not there yet. Not exactly.

“Strange, isn’t it?” he asks you, watching another student jump up excitedly and run to the Hufflepuff table. More claps ensue. “There’s no way this is our last year here, right? We must be dreaming, or something.”

A small smile tugs at the edges of your lips, and George feels his insides go warm. “Of course,” you reply, “we’re dreaming.”

“Would you two quit being so melancholy?” Fred takes you by surprise when he kicks both of you underneath the table. “It’s our final year! It’s exciting! We’ve got loads of mischief planned, Y/N, and we expect your help.”

You roll your eyes. “There’s absolutely no way I’m going to be able to get out of this, is there?”

The twins smile and chorus together, “Nope.” before diving head first into the feast that’s just appeared in front of you all.

“Ah well—it is exciting, isn’t it? We’ve got a lot to look forward to!” you tell them, cutting into the piece of chicken on your plate, “and besides.. with whatever you two have planned? I reckon I’m bound for some type of adventure. Things could be worse, right?”

Just then, a sickeningly sinister giggle emits from the front of the Great Hall; the three of you look at a woman dressed in all pink, whose face resembles that of an old toad, chatting animatedly with Dumbledore who’s looking positively woebegone.

“Ugh,” you say, looking back and forth between the twins, “maybe I’ve spoken too soon.”

— -

You’re tiptoeing next to George in the middle of the corridor; you keep whirling around to check if anyone’s behind you. Months, you’ve been doing this. He can’t help but grin at your flustered state. “D’you really think this is a good idea?” you ask him stealthily as the two of you meander throughout the castle halls.

“Of course,” he replies, squeezing your hand. But inside, he’s just not entirely sure. By the sounds of what Harry’s said, getting detention with Umbridge is no walk in the park. He turns back to you and continues, “Don’t worry—Harry knows what he’s doing. Plus, we haven’t been caught yet, have we?” He jabs you in the ribs and teases you, “Where’s that sense of adventure we so admire? Oi, here’s Fred and Ginny.”

Just then, the two Weasley siblings round the bend and quite literally bump into you both. Fred says quietly, “Merlin help me—I can’t ever remember where this bloody room is,”

“Seventh floor, across from the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy,” you reply in a lowered voice, your eyes shifting across the corridors, “so you’ve got a flew floors to go, Freddie.”

Both he and George laugh; Fred continues, “You’d think after months of going to these meetings, I’d remember where it is?”

“Why am I not surprised?” Ginny elbows Fred, teasing him slightly. “C’mon then, let’s go—looks like the coast is clear,”

The four of you make your way up two more flights of steps, sneak past the tapestry, and finally find yourselves inside the Room of Requirement.

It’s an easy lesson today; with the impending Christmas holidays, everyone is in quite a chipper mood—the Room of Requirement has a light, airy feel to it, and everyone seems to be doing their best at all of the defensive magic Harry’s taught so far—even Neville! When he dismisses you for the day, noting that you probably won’t meet again until the New Year, a dramatic groan nearly shakes the room—it seems as though everyone wants to stay.

When you all land back in the common room and take a seat next to the fire, Fred immediately begins to market his and George’s products to a bunch of excited looking Gryffindors; to you, George just shrugs.

“Oh, that reminds me,” you begin, standing up from the couch and gesturing George toward the dormitory, “I think I’ve fixed that little issue with the Fever Fudge.”

George grins broadly; there’s not many people he and Fred trust with their products, but you? You’re basically a third owner. He stops short, though, at the stairs leading up to the girls dormitories. You shake your head and say, “No worry, most everyone’s gone home for the holidays already. Plus—I’ve already hoodwinked whatever spell the professors have cast.”

“So I won’t get caught, then?”

“Nah,” you reply, urging him forward, “I’m strangely brilliant at derailing bits of professional magic,”

He beams at you at this and follows up to the girls dormitory, leaving Fred with a room full of students eager to get their hands on all Weasley products.

It doesn’t look as different from the boys' dorms as he thinks; it’s pretty much the same setup, same four posters, similar looking curtains. He shrugs, thinking, Nothing to worry about, but when he notices you plop down on your bed, he suddenly feels his insides constrict. You pat the spot next to you and say, “Well c’mere, won’t you?”

He places himself down next to you, careful not to mess your very neat bedspread, while he watches you rummage through a bit of your trunk. “Ah—here we are,” you say brightly, pulling out the box of Fever Fudge you’d hidden so as not to be stolen, “good as new, Georgie. The fevers, now, should stop at the appropriate number we’ve discussed—they shouldn’t continue to spike as the evenings go on. Any problems, let me know!”

“You’re brilliant, truly,” he says, peering down at the box of his own inventions. “How did you get so bloody good at this?”

You smile sweetly at him and flip your hair, “Just got lucky, I suppose.”

He laughs and is about to head back downstairs, careful not to mess up anyone’s things, when he spots a little brown bear on your bed near your pillows. His lips curl into a grin, “Erm.. Y/N,” he begins, pointing to the stuffed bear, “what is that?”

Suddenly you jump onto your bed and try to secretly slip this tiny little animal behind all of your pillows. The rosy pink color of your cheeks is evident in the sunlight flooding the windows, “Erm—what’s what, George?”

He places the box of fever fudge down on the table next to your bed, and walks slowly over to you. With a mischievous grin on his face, he continues, “Don’t make me jump on you.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“But I would.”

And as soon as he says it, he does it; he flops down dramatically, ruining your very tidy sheets. He begins to poke you in the ribs, a tickling of some sort, to try and get you to move. It seems to work, because he grabs the bear from behind your back and you both fall backwards, next to one another, laughing quite animatedly.

He waits with bated breath for you to explain yourself. “Shove off, Georgie,” you say, stealing the bear back from him, twirling it in your fingers and peering at it. You offer to continue, “My mum gave him to me when I was a baby. When I was born. A little ‘coming home’ gift, if you will.”

“You mean to tell me,” George begins, “that you’ve had this for seventeen years?”

You roll your eyes and stifle a bit of laughter. You roll off of the bed, stand up, and place the bear delicately into your trunk. You pull George into an upright position and say, “This conversation’s over. C’mon—let’s bring Fred the fixed Fever Fudge,”

“This conversation is certainly not over,” he teases.

“It’s a source of comfort, you git!” you reply, slapping him playfully across his chest.

“Comfort,” he echoes through a chuckle, “right. And he’s here now because.. you need comforting after a long Potions lesson with Snape?”

You slap him again as you both begin to laugh. “Yes,” you tell him straightforwardly, “and there’s nothing wrong with that. Sometimes, after a long day, I just need something to hug, to hold whilst I sleep, alright? Quit the teasing,”

Suddenly, the overwhelming urge to pull you into an embrace washes over George; he wants, more than anything, to just curl up with you on your bed right now, and to hug you for as long as you need. He’s about to do so, when you pull him by his hand and say, “Oh come on—can’t leave your brother waiting, can we?”

George can’t help himself; he just needs to tease you. Just a little bit more. He begins to tickle your waist when he calls in a sing-song voice down the stairs, “Oh, Freddie!”

You turn and grab his arms; even though he’s feeling rather mischievous, the butterflies are swirling around his stomach, as well. A sinister smirk tugs at the edges of your lips and he feels as though his entire body goes rigid when you wink at him, “Don’t you dare.”

— -

When Ginny enters the portrait hole, she’s surprised to see George slumped in an armchair and not with Fred, off creating some sort of chaotic mischief right underneath Umbridge’s nose.

“No pranks today?” she asks, sinking beside him on the couch.

“Reckon you didn’t see Angelina hanging all over Fred in the Great Hall, then?”

“Guess I must’ve missed it,” she rolls her eyes, and they both smile. “Speaking of—how are things going with Y/N?”

George is slightly taken back; he peers at Ginny with a confused expression and she just shakes her head at him. He knows that everyone else sees right through him, but he never expected his younger sister to bring it up. Guess he’s the type of bloke who wears his heart on his sleeve. “Erm, I mean—things are fine.”

“Things are most certainly not fine. Why haven’t you told her?”

George has been preparing for this—whether it was to come from a sibling or a friend—he knew, down the line, someone would question him as to why you two aren’t together. He slumps back into the couch and twirls his wand in both his hands. “Well—‘cause, we’re leaving soon, aren’t we? Fred and me. Just doesn’t make sense at this point.” He sinks a little lower, and his face turns sullen. “I’ve missed my chance. It’s too late, Gin.”

Just then, you pop inside with Dean and Seamus, giggling animatedly about some silly joke one of them made, and you raise your hand to George and Ginny before quickly heading upstairs to the girls dormitory to change out of your uniforms. There’s a tug at George’s heart—if only he could sneak up there without anyone seeing.

“Hey,” Ginny snaps her fingers at him, interrupting his thoughts and bringing him out of his daydream-like state, “It’s never too late.”

“You think?”

Ginny raises her eyebrows when she notices you coming back down the stairs and making a b-line right toward them. Quietly, she tells him, “I reckon she’ll think the same.”

When you seat yourself down next to them and Ginny quickly changes the conversation, George can’t help but grin goofily at the bunny slippers you have on. You sit yourself comfortably on the couch next to him, cross your legs, and blow lightly on your steaming cup of tea while Ginny relays the story of her brilliant Bat Bogey hex in the last DA meeting to you. Each and every time you smile broadly, George can feel himself shifting closer and closer to you.

— -

“The devil incarnate, she is,” Ron tells his siblings darkly. He peers down at the top of his hand, running his fingers over his silky smooth skin, knowing exactly what is about to happen as the DA prepares for a detention with Umbridge.

Harry shakes his head and replies, “Just try not to think on it all too much. It’ll be over before we know it.” He’s still looking on edge, sleep deprived. The whispers of other members can be heard slightly as Umbridge makes her way down the corridors.

“How is this even legal?”

“Where’s Professor Dumbledore? She can’t possibly get away with this.”

The Great Hall is darker than normal; the hour and a half spent there is some of the most draining George has felt in his entire life. It’s as if the writing alone is setting his soul on fire. Or, perhaps, is it the weak smile and look of pure anguish you give him from a few rows over? He can’t help but feel extremely protective, and he’s shooting daggers at Umbridge each and every chance he gets.

When you’re all finally released, Umbridge giggles in a mocking, satisfied tone. She makes her way back to her office as all of the members of the DA walk begrudgingly back to their common rooms, completely ignoring the apologies of Marietta Edgecombe, who, by the looks of it, is now regretting her decision of giving up the DA to Umbridge.

The Gryffindor common is filled with students looking positively sullen, almost each and every one of them running their fingers over their red, raw, and bloodied hands. George hops through the portrait hole and notices you in the corner, talking animatedly with Ginny and Fred.

“I swear,” Fred’s saying as George sits himself down next to you, “she’s barking mad.”

“You’d think she’d end up in Azkaban after pulling a stunt like this,” you agree, tracing the outline of the cuts on your hand with your finger, “but I reckon she can get away with anything.”

“I reckon you’re right,” George says, leaning his arms on his knees. He takes a deep breath and opts to continue, “how could she possibly get away with something like this?”

Ginny offers, “It’s the bloody Ministry.”

There’s a collective groan from all of you. Ginny shakes her head and continues, “Mum and Dad are going to go wild, you know; this isn’t over. By the way, speaking of Mum and Dad—you two planning on telling them that you’re leaving in a few weeks time?”

George suddenly feels his heart stop. Next to him, you look frantically back and forth between him and Fred, a confused expression plastered across your face. Fred is shaking his head, Ginny’s cheeks are flooding with color, and George is dreading the next conversation.

“You’re—you’re leaving?” you ask, stunned. “When?”

“Gin, we only told you because you overheard us the other night,” Fred says through gritted teeth. Then, he softens and says to George, “but.. I reckon it’s maybe time we tell a few people, eh Georgie?”

“Oh no,” Ginny says sheepishly, looking down at the floor. But you just grin weakly at her as she pulls Fred to his feet and they make their way over to the other end of the common room, most likely to tell Ron of their plans. You hope Ginny isn’t feeling too guilty.

George swallows thickly and then begins, “I should’ve told you sooner. I’m sorry.”

You shake your head at his apology, “You don’t need to apologize to me.” You place your hand over his and wait with bated breath for him to tell you what’s going on. You smile broadly at him when he begins to explain.

“We’re, erm, heading out a bit early, you see,” George begins, his eyes shifting from yours to the floor, “we’ve got these grand plans for a business to open up—in Diagon Alley, actually.. sell our inventions. Reckon it could become quite successful if we market correctly—”

His heart is thundering against his rib cage, surely trying its best to escape his chest, and he’s nervous that you’re not going to approve, you’re going to be angry, you won’t ever talk to him again. But to his surprise, you throw your arms around him excitedly and pull him into a bone crushing hug. He’s relaxing in your arms as he listens to your squeals of delight, breathing in the scent of your hair, focusing on the way your body feels beneath his fingertips. And when you pull away from him and shake his shoulders slightly, with both a bright smile on your face and tears in your eyes, you tell him, “I’m so proud of you!”

You’re talking quickly, shaking your head admiringly, throwing your hands into the air and running them through your hair, chuckling lightly, blinking quickly to push back any tears rising to the surface, but he can’t even hear what you’re saying. All George can hear is the pounding in his ears from the steady beat of his own heart, and not before long, he’s laughing at your exasperated state and is leaning in to kiss you, pressing his lips gently to yours and melting into something that’s been building up for years and years. The tension and surprise is subsiding, and you’re playing absentmindedly with the soft hairs at the nape of his neck and you’re both ignoring the annoying whistles from his siblings near the fireplace, and you’re quite certain that George is making a rather inappropriate hand gesture at them across the room for interrupting your moment.

When you two finally part, George grins broadly at you, his hands still shaking slightly due to the adrenaline rush and he asks you, not bothering to answer Fred’s whistles at all, “You’re not mad?”

“Mad?!” you cry out, still obviously rather electrified from both the news and the kiss, “No! I’m not mad.. how could I be? I’m so excited for you both. I hope you’ll know I’ll be coming round to visit all the time.”

“Well, you better,” he replies cheekily, pulling at the collar of your shirt. Then, “I’m really going to miss you these last few weeks.”

“I’ll miss you, too,” you reply breathlessly, and he now feels a tug at his heartstrings. He’s feeling nervous. Off balance. Do you still want to be with him after he leaves? Can you two survive on letters alone until after you graduate? “Do you, erm—I mean, I know I’m leaving, but—”

You cup his face in your hands, running your thumbs over the light stubble on his cheeks. A feeling of warmth overtakes him when you grin, peering into his yearning eyes, “We’ll make it work.”

He pulls you into his arms, and the calls from Fred and the others don’t seem to subside in the slightest. “We’re being summoned,” you tell George, leaning back against his chest. You pull out some of their inventions from your own pocket, things they’d given you early on; a pygmy puff, a screaming yo-yo, extendable ears, and more. You begin fiddling with them in your fingers and George grins against your shoulder.

“D’you want to go?”

You intertwine one of your hands in his. “Just hold me for a while first, would you?”

He giggles softly and wraps his arms tighter around you. Teasing begins to bubble up inside him and he can’t help it, he just has to say it. “Don’t you want to go and get your bear first?”

He expects the playful slap across his chest, he grins goofily when you begin to laugh, but what he doesn’t expect is what you say next. He’s practically putty in your hands when he pulls you closer and breaths in your scent when you reply,

“Reckon I don’t need it—I’ve got something else to hold, now.”

reblogs + feedback are always appreciated! thanks for reading darlings, ily so <3

[losille2000]

Hoot and Howl, Chapter 2

TITLE: Hoot and Howl CHAPTER NUMBER: 2/? AUTHOR: Losille2000 CHARACTERS: Actor!Chris Evans/OFC GENRE: Paranormal Romance (more on the magical realism side?) FIC SUMMARY: Chris goes on a camping trip to calm the noisy anxiety in his head, but it ends up leading him into his own messed up version of a Disney movie. When he said he wanted to be a Disney prince as a boy, this was absolutely not what he meant. Especially considering that the princess is also, well… about that… RATING: M (sex, language) WARNINGS:  Nothing. AUTHORS NOTES: Thanks to everyone for being awesome with the first chapter back. Enjoy this one. The OFC’s name is pronounced Nay-shaw.

Previous Chapter - Also available on Archive of Our Own!

Chapter 2

Nascha stood over the bubbling concoction in her cauldron, closing her eyes to the steam rising and curling pleasantly around her chin and cheeks. She’d spent too much time outside in the forest last night, and her skin still felt tight from the cold weather. The soothing warmth was just what her body needed, though it was not enough to rejuvenate the stores of energy she had depleted during the exercise. She only hoped she could make it until the end of the month and her next scheduled volunteer visit to Boston. Falling off the wagon now was not an option. Not without a suitable replacement for her extremely specific needs.

 A disgusted teenaged voice filled Nascha’s head then, drowning out her nagging thoughts. I hope you know I hate when you make that, Nae.

Nascha chuckled and glanced back at the fluffy feline lounging on the cat tree across the kitchen. The cat momentarily paused from painstakingly grooming her luxurious white fur—long enough to glare in accusation at the chuckling person.

 It smells like dog breath, the voice continued.

 “Well, yours smells like old tuna,” Nascha reminded, “so you have no place to talk.”

 Ugh, whatever.

 Ash loved her bored and disgusted teenaged one-liners. The cat could give any teenaged human a run for their money in that department, but there were certainly times when Nascha wished other people could hear it, too, just to understand the pain associated with listening to it all the time. Not that anyone would ever believe what they were hearing. They were more likely to check themselves into an institution than believe that it was possible for a cat to talk back to them. But cats did talk back. All animals did. They understood human languages just fine. The trouble was that Great Spirit had taken away the ability for the animals to respond in kind because of a terrible indiscretion long, long ago.

 Or so the story went.

 It didn’t really matter to her, because she still heard it. She heard all of it. The squirrels, the birds, the lizards and snakes… she heard them. This was her curse. 

 Nascha placed the large wooden spoon she’d been using into the ceramic holder on the stovetop, thinking once again how nice it was to have modern conveniences like electricity and gas to power her needs and keep a constant heat on her work. The ancient medicine woman who taught her this recipe while she’d still been living on the reservation had refused to cook it anywhere else but in a cauldron over an open fire. Maybe it ultimately changed the efficacy of the potion, not using the inherent energy of an open flame to create it, but Nascha was a modern witch. Modern witches innovated. After all, innovation was the only way she’d been able to survive off the reservation that had hidden her—and hurt her—for so long. She was pretty damn good at it all by now.

 A soft electronic chime drew Nascha’s attention away from her thoughts. She reached for her cell phone on the opposite counter as a notification alert popped up on the screen. The motion sensor on her front door had detected some type of movement. Clicking over to the video capture, she saw an old beat up pickup barreling down the driveway at a speed almost too high to take the curve into the clearing where her house sat. She didn’t recognize the vehicle, but whoever was driving clearly had an emergent purpose.

 She watched a moment longer as a very hairy and muddy man jumped out of the truck, reached inside, and withdrew a dog. Well, that explained the rushing in on a Sunday afternoon.

 “Where’s Smoke?” Nascha asked Ash.

 How should I know? Ash said.

 “Will you please find him?”

 Ash rolled over onto her back. If she had the ability to roll her eyes, she would have done that, too. He’s probably watching Star Wars again. Nerd.

 “I have to sit with this for another minute or two,” Nascha said, motioning to the pot. She did not want to waste the ingredients she’d used by overcooking it. Getting the same ingredients would require a visit to a grocery store or the local occult shop; store-bought ingredients never adequately replaced those she picked herself during her nightly exercises. “Please go see what’s wrong.”

I hate going out there, Ash responded. Humans are all idiots.

 “Ash…”

 The cat stood up and stretched languidly, clearly unconcerned, like a senator at an impeachment trial.

 Nascha grabbed the cat—carefully, of course—and set her on the ground. “I would like to remind you of our deal. I agree to feed you, catch small rodents for you, and let you sleep in a warm bed. In return you occasionally help me out around the clinic.”

 Yeah, yeah, yeah, Ash said, flicking her tail unhappily, but walking toward the door into the hallway. And if I don’t, you’ll turn me into a human. Blech.

 “And don’t you forget it!” Nascha called as the door swung shut, even though Ash knew it to be an empty threat. No one, magical or not, could change another creature into something else unless they were born with the genetic ability to do that. Ash was as feline as they came, and she would stay that way until she used all her nine lives.

 Nascha returned to her cauldron, but in her argument with Ash, she’d neglected it too long. It was now splitting and congealing into a gelatinous black goo giving off a putrid smell, not unlike a dog’s breath with periodontal disease. Just like Ash had said. She sighed heavily. “Well, so much for that.”

 She grumbled to herself and pulled the cauldron off the heat to cool down before she could clean it out and start over. Smoke finally appeared in a feathery flurry, landing on his perch.

 There’s a guy outside with a dog, Smoke intoned, but then made a chirping noise not native to an African Grey.

 Nascha looked at him, “I thought you were watching a movie?”

 Smoke bobbed his head and clicked his tongue before speaking aloud, “Alexa turn TV off.”

 The house became more silent and Nascha looked at her other housemate. “Go tell them to wait. Ash is already out there.”

 Was it wise to send her out? Smoke asked.

 Nascha shrugged. “I’ll be right there.”

 Smoke, who was quite a bit more dutiful than Ash, unless his favorite TV shows were on, immediately soared out of the room to take care of business. Nascha washed her hands and checked her appearance in a tiny mirror before she reached the door that led into the surgery suite. Ash sat there flicking her tail, annoyed and waiting to give a report.

 “So?”

 The idiot was attacked by a bear. Name’s Dodger.

 “Thanks.” Nascha frowned, reaching for the waiting room door. A bear? Hardly looked like a bear attack from the video image. But he wasn’t the first patient to exaggerate how he’d been injured, and he wasn’t going to be the last. “Stay close in case I need you.”

 Ash jumped onto the chair in the corner of the room and lifted her own paw to lick lightly. She didn’t care. And honestly, Ash wasn’t going to be much help anyway. Only the bipedal assistant that worked for Nascha Monday through Friday would be any help— seeing as it was Sunday, Nascha worked with what she had. Because she was innovative… not just as a witch, but as a veterinarian. Still, this emergency would be the first true test of her weekend “help.” She didn’t get a lot of emergencies out here in the middle of nowhere.

 Nascha breathed in deeply and let it out as she opened the door to survey the situation before her. She swept her attention to the pathetic looking brown and white dog, the bloody rag around his paw, and the human male who looked completely beside himself. By way of introduction, she said, “I’m so sorry! I was in the middle of something that couldn’t be put down.”

 The hairy, mud-caked man looked familiar to her, but she couldn’t quite place him. Even so, his spirit gave the room a frenetic energy like a geyser bubbling and about to blow. Everyone knew it was about to happen, could sense it, but it was the sickening anxiety and bated breath before the eruption that bothered her. She’d never felt it to this degree.

 “My dog, he—”

 She swooped into action, flicking her eyes down to Dodger. She hummed and reached for him. “Let me take him back and have a look.”

 “Can’t I go back?” The man asked, reluctantly handing the dog over to her.

 She cradled the dog to her chest; Dodger didn’t struggle as she spoke softly. “It’ll be okay, Dodger.”

 Dodger looked up at her as he snuggled into her arms and said in the most delightful old-time Southern drawl, How y’all know my name?

 “You look as white as a ghost,” Nascha said then to the man, ignoring the canine’s drawling voice. She got it. This dog very clearly meant a lot to the guy, but she had procedures. And her procedures included not giving someone a reason to call an institution when she started talking to animals. “You need to sit down and calm down. You’re not going to be any help to your dog or to me if you’re freaking us both out during an exam. Let me look at the injury and stop any active bleeding. Then we’ll talk.”

 Nascha did not wait for approval and swept back into the surgery where she set Dodger down on the metal exam table. “Dodger, what’s your human’s name?”

Chris, he responded, big brown eyes meeting hers. Y’all really understand me, don’t ya?

She chuckled. “Yes, I do. Now. Were you really attacked by a bear?”

 Dodger whined and shifted just enough to hold out his injured paw. It was terrible, Doc. He was fixin’ for a fight.

 Nascha carefully unwrapped Dodger’s paw to find that the bleeding had stopped, and under all the mud, a long laceration across the side of the paw consistent with a tear of some kind originating from his dewclaw… but definitely not from a bear fang or claw. “If a bear had done this, you would have lost your paw.”

 I’m tellin’ y’all. A huge brown one!

“Do I need to ask Chris?”

Dodger whined again. After some hesitation, he looked away and moaned forlornly. Fine! A fish jumped and smacked me in the face. I fell.

Nascha laughed. “And?”

I dunno. It happened when I fell off the rock into the river.

“Alright,” Nascha said. “Do you think it’s safe to call your human in?”

Nah, I reckon he’s ‘bout as useful as a screen door on a submarine right now.

She couldn’t hold in her laughter at his expression. How had a Southern dog gotten all the way up here to Massachusetts? His owner did not have the same slow drawl. In fact, he’d sounded distinctly Bostonian in the few words they’d exchanged in the waiting room. “How about I get it all cleaned up and stapled, then call him in?”

 How can y’all understand me?

 Nascha did not have time to explain the ins and outs of her abilities. Though this wound was not life threatening, it did need attention sooner rather than later. “That’s not what I asked.”

 “Um… excuse me?”

 Both she and Dodger froze, turning their attention to the doorway. The door remained closed, but judging from the voice, he was directly on the other side of it. “Yes?”

 “May I please see my dog?”

 Nascha exchanged a look with Dodger, who then laid back on the table, resigned to not getting an answer right away. “If you promise not to pass out.”

 “I can handle a little blood,” he remarked as he stepped into the room.

 She noticed, quite suddenly, that he took up a lot of physical space. More than she had realized out in the waiting room. He wasn’t overly tall, but at least six foot, he was taller than her. His shoulders were broad and sturdy. And he was a mess, covered in blood, mud and likely freezing. His brain, however, had not really noticed that last bit because he was so worried about his dog; she could still feel the turbulent energy rolling off him. He was in shock, or pretty near to it; now it was a matter of two patients, rather than one.

 “The good news is that he’s fine,” she said. “Bad news is that I need to do major clean up and staple his leg.”

 “Nothing broken? He’ll be okay?”

 She nodded. “He tore his skin, mostly. Once I get it cleaned up, I’ll have a better picture of everything, but it otherwise seems fine. I can do a radiograph if you would like to make sure nothing’s broken. But from palpating it, I don’t feel anything out of the ordinary. And Dodger didn’t complain.”

 The man’s whole demeanor deflated. He crumpled onto the bench beside Ash, who had been as silent as a dormouse through the whole process. “Thank god. I thought—”

 “I am also worried about you,” Nascha added, coming around the table to crouch down in front of him. She set a comforting hand on one of his he had rested on his knees, but instantly regretted the decision. Touching humans was always a risk for her. This was different, though. A different she couldn’t quite fathom. “Are you okay?”

 “I’m fine.”

 “You don’t look it,” she replied, securing her hold on him. He turned his palm up, grasping her fingers like they were a tether to reality. She noted that his were mostly soft hands—office worker hands—but there was a degree of roughness there that suggested he might have hobbies that took him away from a desk. His fingers were long, the nails bitten but not to the extent that they were horrible to look at. As a matter of fact, they looked like very pleasing hands and she had the brief irrational thought that they probably took great care of whomever he loved.

 She’d held a lot of hands in her time, but most of those were gnarled and old, at the end of their journey when their owners asked her for assistance. His, in contrast, were vital. Alive. There was nothing sick or dying about him. Freezing cold from the elements, yes, but strong and alive, nonetheless.

Nascha wanted to hold on longer, not least of all because she now felt his frenzied energy oozing into her skin and up her arm, curling and mixing with what was left from her last trip to Boston.

It had been too long since she’d fed. The exercise in the woods last night had taken too much out of what little she had left. And he… he was potent.  

She wanted to moan in delight as his energy began to fill the empty voids within her, but clamped her lips shut at the last second.

That would have been embarrassing.

The man released a shuddering breath and laugh-groaned when he looked down at himself, the tension releasing from his broad shoulders. Slowly, he turned his attention up to hers. Soft blue-gray eyes with the longest eyelashes blinked back at her. They were the kindest blue eyes she’d ever beheld. “I am a little cold.”

 She finally succeeded in pulling her hand out of his, severing the connection, reluctant to let go. It would have been so easy to hold on for longer. The consequences of that, though? She shuddered at the thought. She’d made a promise to herself a long time ago to never take without asking—or being asked—first. Technically, she’d already broken it.

 “How about a blanket, a fire, and some coffee? That is, if you feel comfortable enough sitting in my living room while I work on Dodger.” 

Never mind that she did not feel comfortable with his intrusion. Having someone around meant she had to watch what she said and what she did. It was a mental load she wasn’t prepared to handle. Still, the words had come tumbling freely from her lips. She silently hoped he would decline and instead go back to the regular waiting room.

 He surprised her by saying, “I would love it.”

 Nascha eased back up to her full height, doing a quick mental survey of her living quarters. Had she left anything out from her work earlier that would be too difficult to explain? The cauldron was definitely an issue, but it was close enough to Halloween. She could explain it away as experimenting on something for decorations or a Haunted House or something, though she never decorated for the holiday because she didn’t celebrate it.

 “Good. Let me put Dodger in a kennel and I’ll get you set up,” she finally said as she turned back to the dog.

 Dodger yipped at her. I don’t need to be put away.

 Nascha shook her head. “You’ll be fine for a little while, Dodger.”

 No, I will not.

 “He’s fine,” the man, Chris, said through a shaky laugh. “He hides out in his kennel back home when he wants to get away from me.”

 Yankee traitor, Dodger mumbled.

 “Does he want to, uh, get away from you a lot?” Nascha asked by way of conversation.

 She began to scoop the canine back into her arms, but Chris held out a hand to stop her. “I can carry him.”

 Nascha picked up Dodger anyway. “I’m stronger than I look…follow me.”

 She pushed her way out of the exam room and into the back work area of her home. The previous owner—also a veterinarian—had built this addition on long ago to house his country practice. It consisted of one exam room, one clean room for surgeries, and a small lab equipped for only the most basic of pathology tests. The stainless-steel kennels lined one wall of the lab.

“You have a nice little setup back here,” he said.

“Thanks,” she replied, not elaborating. She could say that the previous owner had given it to her as a gift, but then she’d have to explain why he had given it to her. And that would be impossible to explain without scaring the shit out of anyone. Even though Dodger’s owner had calmed down considerably since she had held his hand and siphoned off his frenzy, she did not want to create another problem that would bring the anxiety back.

She couldn’t be trusted to hold his hand again. Next time, she might not be able to let go.

Nascha turned her thoughts to the heavy animal in her arms. She cooed softly at Dodger as she placed the dog inside a clean kennel on top of a thin cushion. On top of him, she wrapped a large towel to help him conserve some warmth before she could get back. Dodger accepted her kindness by licking her wrist and letting out a heaving sigh. He didn’t say anything else.

 “You’re sure he’ll be fine?” Chris asked as she closed the door.

 “In two weeks, you won’t even know there was a problem,” she said. “Except for the hair that will still be growing back.”

 “Okay,” he breathed out.

 Nascha gave him a small smile that she hoped was comforting and set her hand on his back, in the middle of his flannel-covered shoulders. It was a familiar move she wouldn’t normally have made, but he seemed appreciative of it. Maybe she was, too, now that she could feel the hard sinew beneath the damp flannel covering his torso. Office worker hands or not, the man clearly did many physical things with his body.

 “How about we get you warm now?” she asked.

 He nodded and shivered. It was enough of an answer for her, as she motioned for him to follow her down the hallway toward the living portion of the house.

[funkymbtifiction]

Hi, I was wondering if 6 ccore could be the reason why someone is withdrawing from others in certain situations or is it usually just 4? or can 6 core be the reason why someone behaves like a 2 (helping out of loyalty even when they would rather not)? I think that 6 core makes identifying our fixes really hard and I end up wondering if the traits I see are not due to 6.

I’m gonna be honest, because I see a lot of people struggling with this (and not just as 6′s, but with the other ambiguous numbers like 3 and 9).

You will not figure out your lower fixes until you deal with being a core 6.

In other words, shelve the “search” until you have a better self-awareness.  Your only and best shot is to grow up your core. So read all you can about it. Study it until you have exposed every raw piece of yourself, until you have identified everything that stops you, until you can see all the lies you tell each and every day, until you stop making your number’s excuses and face up to your fatal sin – because that’s what it is: a lie, a sin, that keeps you trapped. Once you can admit to all those flaws without trying to deny or excuse any of them, you are halfway there. You will learn to see yourself clearly for the first time, with no lies causing you to deflect and refuse to admit to your deep, dark core motives. And then you will have the emotional honesty required to identify your lower fixes without any self-delusions. At that point, you should be able to turn your broken attention to the missing fixes and your crap in those areas.

You cannot know yourself until you are brutally honest with yourself. That is the entire point of Enneagram. That’s why it exists. To expose all your self-delusions to you, so you can know what you are doing when you are doing it, and do something about it.

It’s good you are searching for the truth about yourself but you will get nowhere until you can be honest with yourself. I know being a 6 complicates it, but if I can do it, so can you. Truth be told, I would rather be anything but a 4. Part of me thought, “Oh, gee, they sound romantic and DEEP, man,” but 4 characters drive me frigging insane because they are SO DAMN MELODRAMATIC AND OVER-REACTIVE AND TORTURED AND PATHETIC that it felt like scraping my face on a cheese grater to admit that I am melodramatic and over-reactive and tortured and pathetic. I read through in-depth 4 chapters and while I can’t identify with everything, because I am not a core 4, I identify enough that it makes me wince – over and over, page by page. People who squeal, “OMG, SHE HAS MY CORE!!” have yet to face up to their own dirty laundry.

Since you mentioned “withdrawing from others in certain situations,” allow me to expound on that. A 4 plays stupid games with themselves which include jerking other people around. And by that, I mean when the 4 is with you, they can see all the ways you are not perfect and do not live up to their deep idealism, which causes them to have contempt for you. They treat you like crap, while longing for another relationship – basically, anything other than the one they have. When you abandon them, because they treat you like crap, suddenly they are full of intense longing for what they no longer have – which is you. So they will chase after you, because their entire emotional life is spent envying what they do not have and ignoring / failing to appreciate what they have.

An unhealthy core 4′s life is hell, because they keep doing this to themselves – and other people. Treating them like a yo-yo. Chasing, then hating, then chasing, then hating. Rohr talks about a woman who loathed her husband until he left her, then she desperately wanted him back – only to find out that “my love for him died the instant he entered the house.” It was her intense dramatic FEELINGS that she pursued, not a meaningful connection to her spouse.

You want a visual example? Scarlett O’Hara is a 3w4 with a strong 4 wing. She spends years married to Rhett, pining for Ashley – the person she cannot have. She could have total happiness with a man who adores her and will give her everything she wants, but instead she pines for Ashley and ignores / abuses Rhett’s love for her, failing to appreciate his generosity and love until she loses it, and then suddenly it’s all she wants. When Melanie dies, and she can have Ashley, suddenly Scarlett realizes she does not WANT Ashley. She wants Rhett – the man she now cannot have, because he has had enough of her crap and refuses to take it anymore. Him walking out makes her love him more, just like Ashley repeatedly telling her no made her want him more.

Ashley is also a 4 fixer. Pining for the old days. For Scarlett. Because she represents something beautiful in his eyes, a time that has gone. Granted, it’s hard to find anything to enjoy in that hellhole of post-war “ugh” but Ashley is still not living in the moment. He’s chasing dreams and things that do not exist. Not fully loving or appreciating Melanie, then falling apart after her death. (Melanie is a 2 fixer, btw. Note the difference in their approach to loving people. She loves where she is, in the moment. Every minute of every day. None of this “I hate you, go away… wait, I actually love you, come back” nonsense.)

Does any of that ring a bell with you? I wish it didn’t with me, but I have pulled that kind of crap on people. I have spent ages not appreciating the people I have and finding things to criticize about them, only to have them leave me and for me to suddenly be able to only think of the good things about them and how much I want them back and how my life was better before this and how sorry I am that I treated them that way. I once broke up with my best friend. We did not speak for over a year. Six months into it, I broke down in tears after spending the day with someone else – I could not appreciate the person I was with, since all I could think about was my ex-BFF and how much BETTER our conversation post-movie would have been. I look back on my last boyfriend with similar feelings – now he’s gone, I want him back. Except I don’t. I would still find the same flaws in him that I did the first time, once the rosy hue wore off. And in total truth, one reason I broke it off with him was I know I am not healthy in a 4 way, and I would rather not treat him like crap while I work on my health levels. Nobody deserves that kind of emotional mistreatment.

I am working to correct this, but I still catch myself doing it. Having perfectly good, decent, and wonderful people in my life and longing for someone else; if they left me, I would want them back. Except, when they returned, I wouldn’t. I am in love with the idea of something that does not exist. I look back on former friendships with rose-colored glasses and longing. But their return would remind me of their flaws. I would be happy for 12 minutes and then start criticizing them and longing for something else again. It’s bloody hard to admit that to myself, much less to all of you, but it has taken me thirty-five years to become aware of what I am doing when I do this, and to slap myself and tell myself to QUIT.

2′s do not play this game. Oh, no. 2′s have their own mind game. It’s called “I deserve your love because of all the nice things I do for you.” It’s called manipulation. It’s called you being dependent on me is what I want. Helping you seems like the right thing to do (and I tell myself I am doing it because I am a good person) but actually, I look down on you for needing my help, I expect you to give me something in return, and I WILL play the “AFTER ALL THE NICE THINGS I DO FOR YOU…” card if you do not. If you want a raw, brutal look at the sort of crap an unhealthy 2 can get up to, look no further than Bates Motel. You know Norma? I do. “If you really loved me, you would…” “After all the good things I do for you, Norman…” “Why won’t you help me? I AM YOUR MOTHER, I TAKE CARE OF YOU.” Whine, fuss, cry, tantrum, slam door, wait for child to come with hat in hand to beg forgiveness and do what she wants.

That’s an unhealthy 2 in all her glory.

Now, all the types have excellent traits. You should absolutely look into them. Healthy 4′s are not afraid to tackle dark things or to go through emotional times with other people. Healthy 2′s are the most generous, loving people on the planet. But when you focus only on their good traits, and overlook the bad things, you do not get a full picture. You get an attractive image you’d love to put in your online profile, that does not help you decide.

If you really want to know your heart type, ask yourself how you screw with other people and yourself. And it’s going to HURT, when you see your reflection.

To answer your initial question, a 6 should only be withdrawing if they feel threatened by someone. And then, that’s only the phobic 6. A threatened cp 6 will attack aggressively. All 6′s are withholding of themselves. Richard Rohr says you can know a 6 a long time without ever ‘knowing’ them because they reveal very little. But they will test you to find out if they can trust you.

If the 6 is helping out of loyalty, then this loyalty is limited to their friends, family, and close acquaintances, it will not extend beyond that like a 2 might. A 2 will see an opportunity to help as an inroad into a new relationship. 

- ENFP Mod

[edogawatranslations]

999: Alterna (2) - Part 6, Chapters 4-5

Table of Contents | Previous: Part 6, Chapter 3

Chapter 4

After returning to [C-Deck], Akane and I met back up with Lotus and headed back the way we came towards the large hospital room.

Back in the hospital room, Ace, Clover, and Seven had returned safely and joined up with Santa.

Yet something about them felt off. Seven had a grim expression on his face, while Ace’s face had been completely drained of color. Clover looked so frail that she appeared to be on the verge of fading away.

Santa, with the same apathetic expression as always, turned to look at us.

“Did something happen?” I asked with bated breath.

“...Snake’s dead,” Santa muttered, staring upwards with his arms crossed.

“W-” A shiver shot through my body. I felt heart palpitations, rendering me unable to breathe properly. Cold sweat gushed out of my forehead and the back of my neck.

Akane and Lotus seemed to have the same reaction. Neither of them moved an inch, as despair crawled across their faces.

“Y-You’re kidding, right?”

“If that’s whatcha think, then why don’tcha see for yourself?” Seven said. He was shivering, with both hands curled into tight fists.

“But we’d have to go through a numbered door...”

“No need to worry about that,” Ace responded. He pointed to the numberless door. “We stuck a pillow in the door’s gap. The lock isn’t engaged, so you can go through there.”

“And then?”

“The x-ray room will be to your left. We opened that door by solving the question on the monitor, so you can open it quite easily.”

In other words, we could enter the x-ray room without having to pass through a numbered door.

Ace continued, “You’ll find the corpse inside where the seven creepy dolls are standing.”

“Got it. I’ll go and check.”

Lotus, Akane, and I nodded at each other before heading for the numberless door.

Upon entering the hallway, a iron door came into view on our left. We couldn’t pry it open earlier, but as Seven had said, the door now opened with ease.

Steeling myself, I leapt through the door.

“...Ugh.” Akane immediately grimaced and brought her hands over her mouth as she entered the room behind me.

“Where’s this foul odor coming from?” Lotus followed, pinching her nose.

An unnatural stench filled the room. The stench of blood, the stench of rotting flesh, the stench of human waste, the stench of something burning - all of that and more assaulted my nostrils.

I too soon became unable to withstand the odor, having no choice but to cover my mouth with my palm. While suppressing the nausea welling up inside me, I looked around the room.

“What’s that?”

I couldn’t help but tremble at the eerie sight before me.

Seven anatomical models stood basking in the red light emitting from the ceiling, all staring in the same direction. Photographs of each one of our faces were pasted on their heads.

When were these photos taken? I bit my lip in anger. The model with Akane’s face displayed a radiant smile.

Lotus with her pursed lips, Seven with a fierce look in his eyes, Santa with his snarky smile, Ace with his eyes closed, and Clover with a cutesy expression - Snake and the man with the [9] bracelet weren’t present.

I turned to look where the seven figures directed their gazes. There was a cloth partition dividing the room. The wall behind it was dotted with fresh blood. Based on where the splatters were more pronounced, it became obvious where Snake’s body was.

“June, wait here,” I turned around to address Akane.

“But...”

“Please, just keep quiet and do as I say.”

While keeping Akane back with my palm, I stepped cautiously toward the partition. Lotus followed, clinging to my back.

I grabbed the partition with both hands. Hesitantly, I peeked behind it.

My heart stopped. My body froze. It felt like time had frozen as well.

A nightmarish sight lay beyond the partition, one that would make anyone flinch in terror. The entire area was a sea of red. Chunks of meat and flesh were strewn about in pools of blood.

A head. Both arms. Both legs. A torso.

One section of the torso had completely burst open, pink intestines splaying out from the inside.

Gobs of meat covered the surrounding walls. Yellow mucus trickled down from everywhere, as if slugs had run rampant across the room.

“W-What the fuck is this? No...!!!”

Unable to stomach the grotesque scene, Lotus fled from the room. Immediately afterwards, I heard the sound of vomiting echo through the halls. That was the natural reaction. It was strange that I could remain as calm as I was.

“Lotus, are you okay?” June left the room to look after Lotus. For the time being, I wouldn’t have to worry about her coming back.

I turned to examine the corpse once more. Parts of it had been scorched black. The head seemed to have it the worst - as if it had been encapsulated by red-hot flames, it resembled a fully burnt match head.

Next to the head was the corpse’s left wrist. It must have gotten flung there from shock of the explosion. A stark white bone jutted out from the cross-section where it had been torn off.

I gazed at the corpse as a whole. The mass of meat was covered in burnt, tattered clothes. A wine-red colored necktie, a bloodied dress shirt, a navy blue jacket with yellow lines, and grey trousers. I had seen it all before. There was no question the corpse belonged to Snake.

“Why... Why did this have to happen...”

I clasped my hands together for Snake and looked up.

What appeared to be numbers were scribbled all over the blood-splattered wall.

5... 2...

The rest had been covered by the blood.

What did these numbers mean?

Intrigue filled my mind, but I had almost reached my limit. I couldn’t bear to stay in the room for much longer.

“Damn, this is horrible.”

Santa’s voice came from behind me. I turned around, and saw him gazing at the gruesome corpse with the same cool and calm countenance as always.

“Why are you here?” I asked.

“Thought I’d check it out for myself.” With no hesitation, Santa stepped into a puddle of blood.

“What happened to not wanting to get your shoes dirty?”

“That’s not important anymore. Everyone’s gonna get murdered at this rate. I gotta do some investigating if I want to survive, with or without anyone else.”

As he said that, he kicked Snake’s corpse. The torso twisted into a grotesque shape as something within was crushed with a resounding “splat.”

My stomach growled like a dog. Something sour churned up my insides. I couldn’t take it anymore.

Leaving Santa behind, I flew out of the x-ray room.

The stench of blood that had filled my nostrils wouldn’t go away.

Each time that metallic smell reached my lungs, the scene inside the x-ray room flashed into my mind. How many times would I have to endure this nausea?

Chapter 5

After returning to the large hospital room with Akane and Lotus, my gaze turned first and foremost to Clover.

She was sitting on the edge of a bed, her head hanging low. Her dull, hollow eyes stared aimlessly at the floor. Other than her rhythmic machine-like breathing, she displayed no reactions whatsoever. Her body looked so fragile that even a single touch may have been enough to break her.

Soon enough, Santa returned. His shoes were completely soaked red with blood. Just seeing them made me nauseous.

The seven of us had once again reunited in the hospital room.

“You get it now? It’s true,” Seven said as he approached me. Out of consideration for Clover, he lowered his voice to a whisper. “Snake was murdered.”

“Murdered?”

“You think he died some other way? You need at least three people to open a numbered door. Whoever did Snake in used the <RED> with him and opened the [3] door. And then they pushed him in.”

“That’s terrible...” Akane covered her face.

The door would have closed after nine seconds. By himself, Snake would have no way out. No, he likely wouldn’t have given up. Even if he realized the futility of his actions, he would have entered the x-ray room to seek out the <DEAD>.

To disarm the bracelet’s time bomb, everyone who authenticated on the <RED> must also touch the <DEAD>. Snake wouldn’t have been able to do anything in his situation. So after 81 seconds...

As the gruesome image of the x-ray room crept back into my mind, I vigorously shook my head.

“Who would do such a thing...?” Lotus murmured.

“At least three people including Snake would be needed to open the numbered door. One culprit plus Snake wouldn’t be enough to open the door,” Seven responded brusquely. “This was the work of multiple people.”

I crossed my arms. “There’s something I want to confirm first.”

“What?”

“When exactly was Snake killed?”

“Must’ve been when everyone split up to look for the <RED> circuit boards. We couldn’t find Snake after that.”

“So everyone was off on their own searching for the circuit boards in different areas. That means no one has an alibi, right?”

“Yeah. Any one of us could be guilty.”

“W-Wait just a moment!” Akane cried out in a fluster. “What’s wrong with you two? You’re talking about this like it’s obvious, but you’re saying there’s a murderer among us, right?”

“Yep. And not just one—there must be at least two among us,” Seven replied.

“Seven, that’s enough,” Ace chided. “What is there to gain from sowing the seeds of suspicion around? Aren’t we playing right into Zero’s hands?”

Seven couldn’t help but show embarassment in response to Ace’s sharp rebuke.

“What do you mean, ‘playing right into Zero’s hands?’” Lotus asked, leaning forward in curiosity.

“I’m saying that this is just another part of Zero’s plan,” Ace continued with a scowl. “We must not forget that we are still playing Zero’s game. And since this is a game, there will surely be winners and losers. Those who escape through the [9] door become winners; those who fail become losers. Zero is trying to force us to compete for victory.”

“In other words, you’re saying that Zero is intentionally trying to stir up dissent among us...” Akane summarized.

“Exactly. That is why we must avoid falling into the trap of suspecting one another. If we do not trust each other and fail to come together, we will fall right into Zero’s trap.”

“So Snake’s death...?” Lotus asked.

Ace nodded. “Right. That was most likely Zero’s handiwork as well.”

“That has to be it. Ace is right!” Akane said in agreement.

“Above anyone else, we must suspect the gamemaster himself. After all, he’s the one who abducted us all in the first place.”

Ace and Akane had a point. However, now more than ever, I couldn’t help but suspect those around me.

Thoughtlessly, I blurted out, “What if Zero is one of us?”

Next: Part 6, Chapters 6-9

[thechurchillreview]

I saw Atomic Blonde (2017) via Redbox this morn with a roommate. Quick thoughts about it. SPOILERS obviously.

Charlize Theron trained exceptionally hard to be the titular Lorraine Broughton. This was in fact a passion project for her. Her performance is top-notch. The action sequences she's in are stunning. Brutal. Inventive. Sometimes oddly beautiful. Musician/composer Tyler Bates adds yet another impressive score to his resume! Wowzers. The songs for the soundtrack are fantastic. They accompany memorable action sequences and a couple of good quieter moments.

But...

Atomic Blonde stars Charlize Theron as a spy in 1989 from a 2012 graphic novel (The Coldest City) written by a man (Antony Johnson) with artwork by a man (Sam Hart) with a screenplay penned by a man (Kurt Johnstad) with a director that is a man (John Wick originally uncredited co-director David Leitch, Atomic Blonde is his solo directing debut, he is attached to 2018's Deadpool 2 as director). Which explains a lot. *Sighs*

Her first appearance is in a bathtub so we can observe her battered bruised body, yet it continues by having her still nude form get out to have a drink and light a cigarette while standing in front of a mirror. At first, it didn't feel salacious then towards the end of the scene it did. Later on, in the protagonist's second totally needed (coughs) ice bath, the camera perspective comes off as completely gratuitous. Her contact James Percival (James McAvoy) is shown in bed with two topless women as a blanket hides his own genitalia: it is implied that the night before is why he's running late.

And during Lorraine's mission, in a nod to my least favorite stuff from James Bond films, she has sex with a French woman named Delphine Lasalle (Sofia Boutella, Gazelle from 2014's Kingsmen: The Secret Service, Princess Ahmanet in 2017's The Mummy) to solely gain information from her. Initially, at least.

However, this part feels passionate. Real. Not a means to solely an end like Lorraine tells Delphine. That was my takeaway.

Earlier, the agent James Gascoigne that was killed appeared to have a physical relationship with Lorraine. Anyways, this indicates that Lorraine is likely bisexual! Which the movie doesn't make a big deal about and that is why it is noteworthy.  

Better than declarations from Deadpool's director Tim Miller and Ryan Reynolds that their lead is comic book accurate pansexual as his goal involves reconnecting romantically with Vanessa after securing the cure from Francis. The lyrics of his rap theme song Teamheadkick wrote heard in the flick reinforce his heterosexuality that promised to be more too. Yes, I remain livid about this. 

“Hey goons, thugs and bosses, Guess what, I brought Colossus! Times up, better count your losses, Kickin' that ass as my girlfriend watches. Run away, you know that I'll chase, Every bad guy, but 'em right in their place, Revenge, I'm gonna give you a taste, I'm sexy as hell, but I cover my face.

About to take you all to school, with guns and knives, Deadpool... Tellin' jokes and breaking the rules, I came for the tacos. Deadpool... Playin' with the ladies and the family jewels to bust a nut, Deadpool.... 'Bout to throw down with all these fools, So come an' get some. Regenerate, because it's cool, When I fall off a ledge, Deadpool... The crazy ass guards all lookin' to duel, So click, click, boom! Deadpool... I don't believe in the golden rule, I came to get laid. Deadpool... Note to the ladies, I'm not a tool, I'm a sexy motherfucker.”  2016's Deadpool was written and directed by heterosexual men. No one remotely close to the representation Wade Wilson was meant to embody was clearly involved in the movie's creation. Even though they claimed Wade Wilson would be done right this time around. 

Lorraine's spoken words of "You didn't have to kill her..." is a sentiment I too shared since, yep, Delphine, a LGBT woman of color and the only other prominent woman in the narrative, is of course killed. You took a positive and wrecked it y’all. Ugh! She manages to fight back then we’re forced to view her slowly being choked to death before Lorraine can arrive in time. It was heartrending to observe... 

Said decision is likely another James Bondian callback. How most of the women James uses tend to die. For instance, there’s the golden dead body of Pussy Galore that was on several damn movie posters for Goldfinger (1964), Sean Connery’s debut as James Bond. It is on the Wikipedia for the flipping motion picture! Contessa Teresa “Tracy” di Vicenzo (Dame Enid Diana Elizabeth Rigg), a woman Roger Moore’s 007 marries in On Her Majesty’s Secret Service (1969) is murdered in the closing moments by Blofield and Bunt. 2006′s Casino Royale starring Daniel Craig’s Bond does this infuriatingly twice: once with Solange Dimitrios (Caterina Murino) and again towards the conclusion with Vesper Lynd (Eva Green). Additionally, this specific choice to remove Delphine in Atomic Blonde through this method painfully and angrily occurs often with both women and LGBT characters in the majority of media already. 

Still, this echoes what actor Michelle Rodriguez said a few years ago about women in motion picture roles. I am paraphrasing what Michelle declared. Specifically how there needs to be more women in director and writing positions. How men emphasize making women sexy via outfits versus wearing practical clothing (Lorraine's heels, some of Lorraine's strange attire choices that wouldn’t work that well for fighting). There’s a line about what Lorraine should bloody wear to meet the Queen. As a juxtaposition, there’s a scene in the 1979 James Bond flick Moonraker in which he meets Her Majesty in the nude. *Rolls eyes* How the majority telling and orchestrating stories remain largely white men and they essentially write women as a love interest (or with someone) or they slay them during the story. There is a real imbalance in Hollywood regarding this. This has unfortunately infected Atomic Blonde.

Besides Lorraine and Delphine, there's the aforementioned topless nameless women and one other woman in the tale being told. The remainder are exclusively men. James even mocks women in one really aggravating scene that takes place! 

What makes everything worse is that we've had women in similar action film roles done more justice. Less sexualized. Glamourized. Such as Beatrix Kiddo. Katniss Everdeen from the Hunger Games series. Judge Cassandra Anderson from 2012's Dredd. Ellen Ripley from Alien and Aliens. Heck, even Charlize Theron's own Imperator Furiosa in 2015's Mad Max: Fury Road! To list a few examples. It is true that the films they were in had men write their characters. Although in the case of Beatrix Kiddo a.k.a The Bride, she was created by both Uma Thurman and Kill Bill Vols. 1 and 2 director/writer Quentin Tarantino.

On top of that Atomic Blonde’s pacing isn't great. I actually realized my eyes were getting heavy despite being wide awake at the start. The dialogue is functional or blase, at best (”You can’t un-fuck what’s been fucked”). Nada quote worthy. Boasts an uninteresting villain: I didn’t even include the character’s picture above because said individual is such a snore. The writing tries to be too clever at points and is ultimately confusing when all is said and done. My verdict is that Charlize Theron's transfixing acting and sterling action work alone cannot save Atomic Blonde. Neither can its presented aesthetic nor tone. 

Atomic Blonde, is worth a rental, basically. 

P.S. The soundtrack and score, as I typed earlier, are SUPERB. I don’t wish to spoil anything else about either. Give both a listen sometime. 

[sadisticicecreamprincess]

RWBY Abridged script ep 1 (Not a real thing I just had fun making it.)

Back story is being told.

Glynda: “Years ago, many battles were being waged against blood-thirsty creatures called Grimm. So, the great elven kings forged the dust stones. Three stones for the elven kings, seven  for the dwarves, and nine for mortal men and the one.. One dust stone to rule them all. One dust stone to find them. In the land of Remnant where the shadows lie. and in darkness bind them.”

Ozpin: “I do not think that’s how the story went...”

Glynda: “Who cares? It’s a great way to start a series.. now let me continue.” Glynda’s voice becomes ominous. “All the darkness will return, as will the evils that were destroyed many years ago; no matter, be it a Beowolf or.”

Ozpin: “That metrosexual ginger with a cane and eyelashes longer than yours?”

Glynda: “Precisely.”

Ozpin: “And that is why we need the antagonist of antagonists, we need.... a protagonist..Hmm.. who should we choose? Oh I know, an adorable Loli with a bigass scythe.”

Glynda: “Works for me.”

The scene cuts to Roman Torchwick who is walking to the dust shop. He goes in and immediately threatens the clerk.

Torchwick: “Hello sir. We’re here to rob  you. I’ve come to take everything. Dust, dust stones, and nudes.”

Old man: “But why would you need my nudes?”

Torchwick: “To blackmail you, you old bastard. Obviously!.  Now shut up as I tell you my tragic back story. “ Torchwick immediately starts telling his stupid lie story as the scene cuts to one of the goons.

Ruby is listening to “Walking on sunshine.”

Ruby: (Singing.) “I’m walking on sunshine. Woah oh..” Ruby  noticed the guard and took off her head phones and in the teeniest voice possible she finishes the chorus. “Oh?”

Goon: “Hi little girl, I’m robbing you, because you are a girl and are an easy target.”

Ruby: (Now a bit angry and offended) “Hey! Who said girls were easy to rob?!”

Goon: It’s common knowledge. Everyone knows that girls, old people, and children are easy to rob.”

Ruby: (Now a little pissed.) “Urgh!! I bet the girls in this show are twice as badass as the guys. Besides, I know kung fu and I have a scythe!”

Goon: “Hah. You’re adorable. Wait... you have a what?!”

Roman continued telling his stupid back story until suddenly , one of the goons went crashing out the window, with Ruby with him. Ruby beats all the guards singlehandedly  Torchwick sees his goons on the floor ans sighed.

Another Goon: “Sir... are my balls still in place?”

Torchwick ignores the goon and focuses on Ruby.

Torchwick: “Hey!”

Ruby: “Hi.”

Torchwick: “You made me have to cut my life story short and that really pisses me off. Don’t you know that it’s not right to talk to or beat up strangers?”

Ruby: “Don’t you know that my badass rating is ten times yours?”

Torchwick: “Fuck this, I’m out.” He fires his gun at Ruby and then runs away.

Ruby: “Don’t worry, I’ll get your stuff back, and can I have your nudes too?”

Old man: “Thanks... wait... What?”

Ruby runs after Torchwick.

Ruby: “Come back here mam!!”

Torchwick: “Mam?... MAM?? I’M A GUY..”

Ruby: “Wait.. you’re a guy? Well this is awkward.”

Roman growls and throws a dust crystal and shoots it, but.. Ruby is saved by Glynda

Torchwick: “Ha ha ha. That’ll teach her for calling me a girl.. Wait? Who the bloody fuck is this?”

Glynda: “You’re mom.”

Torchwick: “Hey! leave my mother out of this!! Cinder help! These people are insulting my gender, my mom, and are really hurting my feelings!” He starts sniffling.

Cinder: “Ugh.. fine. Wait, are you crying?”

Torchwick: “No! I just have something in my eye!!!” He continues to sniffle.

Cinder: “Whatever.” She fires  a fireball from her hand.

Foe Cinder used Flame burst.

Glynda used Ice shard.

Foe Cinder used Blast burn

Glynda uses psycho cut.

Torchwick: “Let’s get out of here!!” He and Cinder leave.

Glynda: “I found the protagonist.”

Ruby: “Um.. What?”

The scene cuts to Ruby and Ozpin.

Ozpin: “Ruby Rose. You don’t know me, but I know you. You’re welcome to guess though.”

Ruby: “Um: Harry potter?”

Ozpin: “No.”

Ruby: “Gandalf?”

Ozpin: “No.”

Ruby: “ Oscar Zoroaster Phadrig Isaac Norman Henkle Emmannuel Ambroise Diggs?”

Ozpin: “... no....”

Ruby: “Wait I know. You’re Professor Ozpin from Beacon.”

Ozpin: “Finally. Now.. the reason why you’re here is because you are the protagonist.”

Ruby: “But what if I don’t wanna?”

Ozpin: “You don’t get a choice. Here, have some cookies.”

Ruby begins eating the cookies

Ozpin: “Yes.. she took the bate of the mind control cookies. Now.. you will do as I say..”

Ruby: “Yes master..”

Ozpin: “I am transferring you to Beacon.”

Ruby: “Yes mas... wait, what???”

The scene cuts to Ruby and Yang on an airship.

Yang:” Yes. My sister is here. I’m so happy!”

Ruby: “Yang... please stop hugging me..”

Yang: “Why?”

Ruby: “Your boobs are suffocating me...”

Yang: “It’s not my fault these things have been growing since I was seven.”

Random background character, not in the screen.: “Steroids.”

Yang: “These are natural, bitch!” Yang growled, but then kept smiling at Ruby

Ruby:  Ruby stared back.  “There’s an awkward silence now..”

Yang: “Yup.”

Jaune runs past Yang and Ruby and throws up.

Ruby: “That’s gross... wanna end the episode Yang?”

Yang: “Eeyup.”

[wtffundiefamilies]

redwhirlwind89 said:  Isn’t it gross? Doesn’t help that David and Priscilla look very much related. And blonde/pale like the Dollangangers from Flowers in the Attic. It must be like they did in Ancient Egypt…promote incest to keep the ‘good blood’ in the line.                           

I feel like now is the time to point out that the Dollangangars also did the one-letter theme, Duggars.

      redwhirlwind89

Okay, what the hell is it with these 'special' people and their random anniversaries?! Guys, wait three more months and just call it five years you bloody idiots! I know neither of you can figure out how to open a can of tuna but get a grip!

The only people I’ve ever known who did this were a couple I knew in high school.  We’re 15 years-ish out of high school now, they’re married and have since chilled (though they are still forever my IRL OTP <3 ) The fundies DO seem to be play-acting their first ever high school relationships in their marriages a lot.  Maybe that’s where it comes from. 

    undercoverduggarblog

phillip looks exactly like priscilla’s dad

He really does. 

      discussingtheduggarfam fundie-fun  

TL;DR but these two are so stinking cute about each other.

   miriten discussingtheduggarfam  

I guess that’s what happens when you meet and fall in love instead of being forced into a relationship?

Zach and Whitney really do seem more genuine about each other; most of the fundies seem to be acting the way they think married couples are supposed to.  I never thought about it relating to the fact that they met and got to know each other normally at least at first, without their parents hovering over them.  Whitney having a more normal upbringing (and little interest in converting to the Bates way of life) probably has something to do with it as well.

redwhirlwind89

I also think having no insurance has something to do with it, honestly. There's no way Bum Ben has good insurance for his family...they probably cannot afford a hospital birth.

That’s probably true as well.  I doubt Jill and Derick or Josh and Anna do either.  What is Ben even DOING as a job?  He sure seems to have a lot of free time.

noora7

Are they Indonesians? Hartono is an Indonesian last name.

I think so, yes.

devaleriola wtffundiefamilies  

Where’d you get that? Her face and her clothes are clean.

True; I’m probably being unfair.  Post-Jubilee fiasco I really stopped watching the show as regularly, and I sort of hold the family in my mind at the earlier stages of the show, when the kids would be running around looking disastrous.  I still shudder thinking of Jackson sitting on the floor with the bottoms of his feet jet black, eating spilled Cheerios off the disgusting floor (and he was like 6 at the time).  Shudder.  They’ve improved a bit since then (maybe because the youngest kids now are less likely to be rolling around in the mud and those who were are now too old for that shit).

      nothingelsemakessense

Is this shortly after they moved to DC? I think that's when Anna was at her loneliest, as she didn't have her sisters-in-law to keep her socialized and hadn't realized you can look outside the family for friends yet.

I think it was pretty soon after the move, so that makes sense. 

    redwhirlwind89

Haha, I do feel like poor Anna has so many psychological issues stemming from her not-so-great life that she would come to confide in a toddler.

In general, fundie motherhood seems to be about treating your daughters both as live-in help and “best friends” to dump all your crap on. 

nothingelsemakessense

I hate how they insist on saying what "most people do" as if they have the slightest idea of how people outside of their lifestyle live. They may have a slight idea of things that are done differently, but they have no concept of the day-to-day life of even mainstream conservative Christians.

All they know is what their parents and people in their parents’ mindset tell them, so I can only imagine what they envision.  Probably ritualistic Satanic sacrifices on parentless dates.

nothingelsemakessense

He's definitely too fragile for Jessa's style of humor.

I still don’t get how they ended up together.  He looks hurt and furious every time Jessa teases him, Jessa has little interest in the Donna Reed role he seems to want his wife to fill...eh, probably cuz she’s hot and she was desperate.

      nothingelsemakessense

It's probably from that "train up a child" Bible verse. I heard that one all the time. I've also heard a lot of Christian parents say "We trust you, it's him we don't trust" when a teenage daughter complains about dating rules.

I’ve heard that a lot in secular dating as well, but JFC, if you’re that hardcore religious you’re probably hand-picking your daughters’ dudes anyway.  Like...if JimBob doesn’t trust Ben, why would he be like “Yeah, you’re cool to marry my daughter” in the first place??

nothingelsemakessense

I've actually known a few couples who had their parents go on their honeymoon with them. My cousin even had them in an adjoining room.

Damn.  I never thought I’d look at the Duggar relationship model and go “Eh, could be worse.”

nothingelsemakessense

I hate people who don't understand what topics are good for discussion at a public place where children could be around.

I’m guessing they cleared the mini-golf course so they could film unimpeded and they wouldn’t have to be around women wearing pants or tank tops, therefore ruining Ben for life, but considering that Michelle abandoned Josie in the hospital to protest a convenience store selling beer because teh childrenz might see it...it is pretty goddamn hypocritical of them.

avatargirl1930

I hate this because he was probably 'working late' that night by banging some toothless prostitute.

Ugh, no doubt he ditched her many a time to browse Ashley Madison. 

devaleriola wtffundiefamilies  

She has the same stupid facial expressions as her mother-in-law

To this day I can’t figure out if she started directly imitating Michelle or she was just like this from the start and he was attracted to her because of it.  Either way it’s disturbing.

hiimana wtffundiefamilies  

If it was challenging for you and jim bob y'all should have stopped at 6 not kept going 😒

For real.  No, instead they decided to emotionally manipulate church members and train their daughters to take their place in the family.  MOTHER OF THE YEAR EVERYONE.

wonderfullywicked

"The first daughter is courting and we're more upset/annoyed that we'll be losing a maid than happy that she's courting." Was all I got from Michelle saying this when I first watched it

Undoubtedly true.  Michelle doesn’t seem to like her older daughters much anyway. 

[abitterlifethroughcinema]

Three (+1) Movies You Ought to Catch This Week!

                     WOKE! Film Reviews

                                    by

                        Lucas A Cavazos

Widows #### Steve McQueen has really begun to whet his appetite on fare that is directly in tune with things people need or want to see at the time of release. After his last film Twelve Years a Slave swept the Oscar a few years back, the industry sat on its laurels while Trump took office and the British McQueen took to work on this stellar heist film.  In this case, we are going to take a look into the deeper side of inner-city Chicago, fusing ward life, a quatrain of husbands’ deaths, politics and a smidgen of church and family…life, that is to say. What you see and what you get is sure fire suspense and a feeling that the gals behind Ocean’s 8 some months back may have preferred being in this caper. Viola Davis, Michelle Rodriguez, Elizabeth Debicki and Carrie Coon make up the ‘widows’ of this film, whose hubbies are knocked off during a heist gone awry in an incredible action sequence which commences the film, truly brilliant. When Veronica Rawlings (Davis) is accosted at home, she discovers her husband’s original plans by searching their private bank vault and, as well as, finding nudie pics of a hotshot politician, she takes it upon herself to contact the ladies of the men who were killed along with her husband, played by Liam Neeson incidentally, if even but for a moment. On the other hand runs a political theme, which finds such skilled hands under the direction of McQueen, whose mastery of highlighting the linear aspects of the characters truly identify the black vs. white drama which ensues even today in the USA. The fact that he uses its most violent city as its backdrop is perfectly poignant. Robert Duvall and Colin Farrell play politicos who want to get the black vote stabilised under their control throughout the wards of Chicago, and though Farrell is slightly annoying, the fact that their surname is Mulligan says it all, frankly. There are some moments of lull and formulaic scenes once the heist plans are laid bare and set in to action, but one can NOT help feel a sense of internal “Hell Yeah, baby!” when the going gets tough towards the film’s end. McQueen has found a perfect recipe to fuse important elements that will attract modern US society and Lawd knows the masses are likely to show up in droves. (Now playing across Catalonia and Spain)

Fantasic Beasts: The Crimes of Grindelwald ###  The last time I critiqued J.K. Rowling’s last big production, I was writing for the local English magazine, and I recall sitting in the screening thinking, “Did I shave my legs for this trite shite?” That said, it is a good thing that director David Yates has returned from his Harry Potter daze to take the reins of this saga…or is that me being too kind? With a running theme that implies the horrid nature of racism, which is at least one positive about the film, and decent performances by Johnny Depp and Eddie Redmayne are quite well done to be sure, the film does not turn into a total snore-fest, but it is still no way near the bravado of Rowling’s original efforts with Harry and his mates. This time around, we find the oddly-named Newt Scamander (I mean, honestly!), played by Redmayne, seeking a way to re-instate his passport availability, and when he is charged with the task of protecting Credence Barebone (again with these bloody names!), the child with an obscurial, which harnesses his rage and can turn it into a ghastly and scary power force, he gets to move on and travel to Paris. All of this is to thwart the malevolent advances of a dark villain known as Gellert Grindelwald (Depp). Ugh…we all still together here? Well then comes the unknown myths and history explained in flashbacks, as well as, the dubious nature of this young Barebone, who is adopted, and this is when Rowling’s famed sociological study comes out referencing bloodlines and the nature of family. I actually started to enjoy the film as this corner was turned….but so long into an already long film also serves to show us what is coming up short. That would be  that when telling such a daunting tale with oh-so-many back stories, there needs to be a stronger semblance of coherence. What we had with the Potter series (which was an aide) was that we could always turn to the books to remember and recall scenes and background. We don’t have that with Fantastic Beasts, and the fact that there could be more of this makes me less than desirous to see what happens with Newt and his admirable cronies-in-good. (Now playing across Catalonia and Spain)

Bad Times at the El Royale ###-1/2   Starring a host of insanely good actors in a mondo bizarro film, Bad Times takes one on a trip fuelled by 90s indie darlings like Tarantino mixed with a dash of Bates Motel depression and a tinge of the crazy claustrophobia of Oliver Stone’s U-Turn, and it is a wild ride, trust; so those attending should be duly noted and not be too sober. The name comes from a Lake Tahoe-based hotel set in kitsch 60s decor, with on e wing of the hotel in California and another in Nevada, therefore permitting casino-style slots and action. Told in notable-titled chapters, director Drew Goddard tells us the story of singer Darlene Sweet (the amazing Cynthia Ervio), who arrives at the hotel with a contract to sing at some Reno dive. Jeff Bridges plays a priest, Jon Hamm a vacuum cleaner salesman, and Dakota Johnson as a sociopathic-leaning hippie. Throw in Chris Hemsworth as a hippie-like action cult leader, and you get some good Hollywood acting fodder. Erivo shines (she also is brilliant in the aforementioned Widows, reviewed above!) as Darlene, and her vocals throughout the film, which itself is infused with 60s soul tunes, make the death scenes and splatter ones all the more so palatable if still creepy and gruesome. The film begins with someone undoing a room in the tacky-ass hotel and burying a case full of money, only to then re-put the room into proper order. Thereby, time apparently passes and the motley crew that assemble at the cursed hotel find that hey are in for the pounding of a lifetime. This film would have been much relished had it come out 20 years ago, and so I’m curious to see how audiences and other critics react to and interpret Goddard and cast’s thrilling kill-fest because nothing is quite what it seems, and the intensity behind what may or may not come is hauntingly spooky yet oddly familiar somehow. (Now playing select theatres in parts of Catalonia and Spain)

Our New President ###-1/2   Premiering in Spain at L’Alternativa a couple of weeks back, this little-seen but oh so well-done documentary focuses on something many of us have not seen or heard…the Russian news outlet view of the Presidential elections of 2016. Director Maxim Pozdorovkin has taken scores of scenes from Russian news, as well as, detailing many of the minds behind the production and presentation of said “news,” thrown it in a blender and then methodically played out all these scenes to us, the stunned and often enraged viewer. What makes this doc so spellbinding is that there are no (virtually none, anyway) inklings to the US and its view of the campaigns. Within 20/25 minutes, we see that everything we presumed about Russian interference and aid to Trump for his election were quite obviously happening. It is a true mind fuck, and I do not use that word-phrase lightly! Some of the newscasts and reports that were so staunchly in favour of The Orange One and hyping Hillary as Killary. What starts off as a rather odd, even unmotivated doc, soon turns into a full assault of the political senses, and I urge everyone reading this to check it out. (Now available VOD)

[dearheartt]

The Spooky Halloween Tag

created by of-flowers-and-foxes

( I’m sharing this halloween tag i put together incase anyone else wants to answer the questions themselves! If you would like to see my answers then check out my youtube channel simply_kenna )

1. Favourite horror or Halloween-themed song?

‘This is Halloween’ from The Nightmare Before Christmas

2. Name something you wouldn’t want to run into in a dark forest or in an abandoned building.

Huge spiders- ugh!

3. Have you ever played with a Ouija Board?

Nope wouldn’t mess around with that, but I did watch others play with a homemade one at summer camp

4. Favourite horror monster or villain?

Dracula and Norman Bates

5. The creepiest thing that’s ever happened while you were alone?

Feeling like you’re being observed and that there’s another presence nearby 

6. If you were dared to spend the night in a “haunted house”, would you do it?

Yes very much so, I would simply pretend to be part of the ghoul boys

7. Are you superstitious?

No

8. Do you ever see figures in your peripheral vision?

Yes that has happened but there’s always a way to explain it

9. Which urban legend scares you the most?

Hmm...the one that used to freak me out when I was younger was Bloody Mary

10. Do you prefer gore or thrillers?

Thrillers

11. Do you believe in multiple dimensions or worlds?

Yes I think parallell dimensions are possible

12. Ever made a potion of any sort?

The closest I’ve ever come to a potion is probably brewing tea lol

13. Do you get scared easily?

No, not at all

14. Have you ever played Bloody Mary?

Yes

15. Do you believe in demons/the devil?

No

16. You’re home alone but you hear footsteps in your house, what do you do?

I probably wouldn’t even care lol would just assume that it’s the neighbours making noise

17. If you got trapped in one scary movie, which would you choose?

Train to Busan or ‘It’. I believe it would be the most nice to be stuck in out of the lot of them. Just biking around in a small town with friends & taking down a killer clown

18. If you could only wear one halloween costume for the rest of your life, what would you be?

Mia from Pulp Fiction is timeless

19. would you ever go to a graveyard at night?

Yes, I’ve already done that

20. In a zombie apocalypse what is your weapon of choice?

Bow and Arrows/Crossbow, it’s reusable

21. Would you rather go to a Halloween party or go trick or treating?

Trick-or-Treating is nice

22. You’re in a horror movie. Are you the final girl, the first to die, the comic relief, the skeptic, the smart one, or the killer?

I’m such a horror geek that I believe I possess the knowledge needed to survive. So smart one+final girl

23. Do you have to watch something happy after watching a horror movie so you can go to sleep?

No not really

24. Whilst watching scary movies, are you the person who yells at the characters, the person with their eyes covered the whole time, or the person who falls asleep?

Probably closer to being the one to complain on the character’s stupidity and comment on the movies cinematography and music

25. Are you the one who gets scared, or the one who does the scaring?

I’ve scared a fair share of folk in my days

26. Favorite scary book?

The Shining, Coraline & Let the Right One In

27. How old were you when you saw your first horror movie?

Oh boy, I don’t even remember. My dad was pretty liberal and let me watch horror movies from when I was like 6

28. What was your first Halloween costume?

A witch 

29. What are you going to be for Halloween this year?

Tough one, I haven’t decided on that yet

30. If you could have a spooky halloween pet (black cat, owl, bat, rat, wolf), what would you pick?

A cute bat named Norman

31. trick… or treat?

Treat

[nightmareonfilmstreet]

[Ranked] The Seasons of AMERICAN HORROR STORY from Best to Worst

New Post has been published on https://nofspodcast.com/ranked-seasons-american-horror-story-best-worst/

[Ranked] The Seasons of AMERICAN HORROR STORY from Best to Worst

The seventh season of everyone’s favorite hot mess, American Horror Story, premieres on FX tonight. This batch of episodes (subtitled Cult) puts a political spin on the proceedings. And, while they could technically just replay this year’s inauguration video for each episode, it seems this season focuses on Sarah Paulson’s fear of clowns and Evan Peters’ blue-haired screaming fits. In preparation of tonight’s inaugural episode, let’s take a look back at all six seasons so far from best to worst.

  6. FREAK SHOW (Season 4)

Last and definitely least is American Horror Story: Freak Show. Right from the get-go, this season was one big eye roll. It’s very basis is a theme not unfamiliar in Murphy’s cannon; a group of outsiders fighting against bigotry and hate. But here he places the protagonists in the most obvious setting possible: an actual freak show. Effectively turning the subtext of his previous stories into capital-t Text, and shoving it down our throats while he’s at it. Get it?? They’re actual freaks!! It’s as if he missed the screenwriting class that teaches you the “show, don’t tell” method of storytelling.

The resulting season is cringe-inducingly on the nose. It has exactly one redeeming quality, having a villain who’s genuinely terrifying. Twisty the Clown still haunts my nightmares, but then so does Kathy Bates’ god awful Minnesota accent. Add to that some obnoxiously anachronistic musical numbers performed by Lange with a phony German accent, and you have what’s surely the worst season in a largely hit-or-miss series.

  5. HOTEL (Season 5)

After Freak Show, series highlight Jessica Lange opted out of the show. American Horror Story: Hotel was the first one without her, and a Lange lost is a Gaga gained. Inviting the certified queen of all things weird, Lady Gaga, into the AHS universe was perhaps the most inspired bit of casting the show has had. Gaga, while not amazing, brought a calm assuredness to her performance that bagged her a Golden Globe. What’s unfortunate about this season is you aren’t really given a reason to care about anything that’s happening. There’s no real through-line here, it’s just about this weird hotel run by this weird woman who calls herself ‘The Countess‘ who’s kind of a vampire and also collects children. Wes Bentley plays a detective who checks in to the hotel in hopes of investigating a murder or something. There’s also a killer afoot who kills people according to the Ten Commandments for some reason.

In typical Murphy fashion, it’s a bunch of puzzle pieces that were all taken from completely different puzzles. The end result is as incoherent as it sounds. One hidden gem however is Evan Peters’ gonzo performance as the hotel’s founder James Patrick Marsh, who terrorized guests in his torture chamber on the property in the 1920s. Peters even adopts a ‘1920s accent’ (if that’s even a thing), and somehow manages to make it sound completely natural. So that’s a plus.

  4. COVEN (Season 3)

Asylum (which I’ll get to in a moment), while well-regarded by most, was largely criticized for being ‘too dark’. In retaliation, Ryan Murphy delivered one of the lightest, most ridiculous seasons of the series with American Horror Story: Coven. The humor is in abundance, but most of it is far too campy to ever really be funny. Despite the delightful inclusion of Stevie Nicks (who was actually accused of being a witch in Fleetwood Mac’s heyday), even that cameo was inconsequential.

In fact, the only thing keeping this season in fourth place is the addition of Angela Bassett, who chews the scenery like she’s ripping into a juicy steak. If her death glare doesn’t kill you, surely the amount of verbal acid she spits will. Nobody knows how to deliver a cutting insult quite like Bassett, and it’s one of the only things making this season worth checking out. But she’s the rose in a field full of thorns. Including but not limited to: zombies, racism, and Precious‘ Gabourey Sidibe having sex with a minotaur…

  3. ASYLUM (Season 2)

The second season is a bit of a reversal of the typical AHS formula. The kitchen-sink approach is employed from the get-go here, toning down as it goes along. There’s a Nazi doctor, Maroon 5’s Adam Levine, and of course the ill-advised subplot of alien abduction. American Horror Story: Asylum begins as a complete mess with glimmers of promise, and ends on a pleasingly suspenseful and satisfying note.

Aside from bringing Lange to the forefront as the HBIC (Head-Bitch-In-Charge) of the titular institute, we’re also treated to a wonderfully zany performance by Lily Rabe as the repressed nun, and a fun twist that casts Zachary Quinto in a sinister new light. By the time Sarah Paulson’s Lana Winters finds herself unwittingly trapped in Bloody Face‘s lair, the season is finally finding its footing. The problem is, that’s in the third-to-last episode.

  2. ROANOKE (Season 6)

The most recent season also proved to be one of the most divisive. The show’s schtick was beginning to grow quite stale, with many die-hard fans considering jumping ship. Love it or hate it, American Horror Story: Roanoke injected the series with something it was in dire need of: a fresh new storytelling structure. [Spoilers start here, folks] By dividing the season into two halves, Ryan Murphy gave the show something it’s been lacking since season one, and that’s genuine intrigue. The marketing was our first hint that we were in for a change, with the plot and even the subtitle a total secret until it premiered.

It was revealed the season was presented in the style of a true crime docu-series titled “My Roanoke Nightmare“, complete with “dramatic reenactments” of the strange events that occurred after a couple move to a creepy house in North Carolina. Interesting enough, until you realize that all the ‘real’ versions of the characters are still alive and telling the cameras their version of the story, thus dispelling most of the suspense. Things progressed quite quickly, with the story even coming to an apparent conclusion by the end of the fifth episode.

So what now, you ask? Well, it turns out the second half of the season follows the producers of “My Roanoke Nightmare” starting a new reality show. In it, they plan to put the real people and their reenactment counterparts in the same house together with hidden cameras, Big Brother style. Not only did this invigorate the formula, it reached peak excitement when the end of the sixth episode revealed that every single castmember except for one was killed over the course of filming. And what we’re about to watch is the ‘found footage’ of what transpired. F*ck me up, Ryan Murphy. This is storytelling experimentation the likes of which we rarely see on television. Save for a little noticeable lack of focus toward the end, Roanoke proved to be the incredibly necessary slap in the face to those of us being lulled to sleep by the typical AHS formula.

  1. MURDER HOUSE (Season 1)

A clear plot and sense of structure has rarely been AHS‘s strong suit, but it’s part of what makes the first season the undisputed champion. Following some unsavory marital struggles (he’s a cheating jerk who wears fedoras), the Harmon family uproot their lives in Boston and seek a fresh start in sunny California. And wouldn’t ya know it, turns out the house is haunted by literally everyone who has ever died there. Ugh, realtors, amiright? Notable bright spots include a uniquely creepy (and rubbery) villain, Jessica Lange as the unhinged nosy neighbor, and something called “the infantata“. What follows is a season full of memorable moments, but even the best season isn’t without its faults.

As it progresses, it starts to throw a bunch of stuff at the wall, seeing what sticks. And while it’s a defense mechanism that’s present in every season, it’s perhaps employed least offensively in this one. And while we definitely didn’t need an almost-whole episode devoted to the Black Dahlia, we most certainly needed a scene with Connie Britton eating gourmet brains. Ryan Murphy giveth and Ryan Murphy taketh away.

            So where will season seven land on the ranking? Only time will tell. American Horror Story: Cult premieres tonight, 9/5 on FX at 10pm.