#unless i tracked the source of the comments

[selamat-linting]

not to be shitty but today i just see two people with wildly different stance on china on my dash. the first was a full blown patriot, handing out imperfectly translated receipts of people's comments on weibo. the other utterly hated the government, speak in perfect english about freedom and even share links of documentaries in english so people would understand why they hate the government. they both live in china. interesting how the same place can lead to wildly different perspectives. i kinda want to see them duke it out online.

[mariacallous]

Why disinformation experts say the Israel-Hamas war is a nightmare to investigate

The Israel-Hamas conflict has been a minefield of confusing counter-arguments and controversies—and an information environment that experts investigating mis- and disinformation say is among the worst they’ve ever experienced.

In the time since Hamas launched its terror attack against Israel last month—and Israel has responded with a weekslong counterattack—social media has been full of comments, pictures, and video from both sides of the conflict putting forward their case. But alongside real images of the battles going on in the region, plenty of disinformation has been sown by bad actors.

���What is new this time, especially with Twitter, is the clutter of information that the platform has created, or has given a space for people to create, with the way verification is handled,” says Pooja Chaudhuri, a researcher and trainer at Bellingcat, which has been working to verify or debunk claims from both the Israeli and Palestinian sides of the conflict, from confirming that Israel Defense Forces struck the Jabalia refugee camp in northern Gaza to debunking the idea that the IDF has blown up some of Gaza’s most sacred sites.

Bellingcat has found plenty of claims and counterclaims to investigate, but convincing people of the truth has proven more difficult than in previous situations because of the firmly entrenched views on either side, says Chaudhuri’s colleague Eliot Higgins, the site’s founder.

“People are thinking in terms of, ‘Whose side are you on?’ rather than ‘What’s real,’” Higgins says. “And if you’re saying something that doesn’t agree with my side, then it has to mean you’re on the other side. That makes it very difficult to be involved in the discourse around this stuff, because it’s so divided.”

For Imran Ahmed, CEO of the Center for Countering Digital Hate (CCDH), there have only been two moments prior to this that have proved as difficult for his organization to monitor and track: One was the disinformation-fueled 2020 U.S. presidential election, and the other was the hotly contested space around the COVID-19 pandemic.

“I can’t remember a comparable time. You’ve got this completely chaotic information ecosystem,” Ahmed says, adding that in the weeks since Hamas’s October 7 terror attack social media has become the opposite of a “useful or healthy environment to be in”—in stark contrast to what it used to be, which was a source of reputable, timely information about global events as they happened.

The CCDH has focused its attention on X (formerly Twitter), in particular, and is currently involved in a lawsuit with the social media company, but Ahmed says the problem runs much deeper.

“It’s fundamental at this point,” he says. “It’s not a failure of any one platform or individual. It’s a failure of legislators and regulators, particularly in the United States, to get to grips with this.” (An X spokesperson has previously disputed the CCDH’s findings to Fast Company, taking issue with the organization’s research methodology. “According to what we know, the CCDH will claim that posts are not ‘actioned’ unless the accounts posting them are suspended,” the spokesperson said. “The majority of actions that X takes are on individual posts, for example by restricting the reach of a post.”)

Ahmed contends that inertia among regulators has allowed antisemitic conspiracy theories to fester online to the extent that many people believe and buy into those concepts. Further, he says it has prevented organizations like the CCDH from properly analyzing the spread of disinformation and those beliefs on social media platforms. “As a result of the chaos created by the American legislative system, we have no transparency legislation. Doing research on these platforms right now is near impossible,” he says.

It doesn’t help when social media companies are throttling access to their application programming interfaces, through which many organizations like the CCDH do research. “We can’t tell if there’s more Islamophobia than antisemitism or vice versa,” he admits. “But my gut tells me this is a moment in which we are seeing a radical increase in mobilization against Jewish people.”

Right at the time when the most insight is needed into how platforms are managing the torrent of dis- and misinformation flooding their apps, there’s the least possible transparency.

The issue isn’t limited to private organizations. Governments are also struggling to get a handle on how disinformation, misinformation, hate speech, and conspiracy theories are spreading on social media. Some have reached out to the CCDH to try and get clarity.

“In the last few days and weeks, I’ve briefed governments all around the world,” says Ahmed, who declines to name those governments—though Fast Company understands that they may include the U.K. and European Union representatives. Advertisers, too, have been calling on the CCDH to get information about which platforms are safest for them to advertise on.

Deeply divided viewpoints are exacerbated not only by platforms tamping down on their transparency but also by technological advances that make it easier than ever to produce convincing content that can be passed off as authentic. “The use of AI images has been used to show support,” Chaudhuri says. This isn’t necessarily a problem for trained open-source investigators like those working for Bellingcat, but it is for rank-and-file users who can be hoodwinked into believing generative-AI-created content is real.

And even if those AI-generated images don’t sway minds, they can offer another weapon in the armory of those supporting one side or the other—a slur, similar to the use of “fake news” to describe factual claims that don’t chime with your beliefs, that can be deployed to discredit legitimate images or video of events.

“What is most interesting is anything that you don’t agree with, you can just say that it’s AI and try to discredit information that may also be genuine,” Choudhury says, pointing to users who have claimed an image of a dead baby shared by Israel’s account on X was AI—when in fact it was real—as an example of weaponizing claims of AI tampering. “The use of AI in this case,” she says, “has been quite problematic.”

[mysteria157]

Chapter 13

Pairing: Nanami Kento x Black Fem Reader

Word Count: ~14.4k

CW: profanity, minor character death, angst, coping with grief

Summary: You and Nanami navigate through grief.

Notes: This is angst heavy and while I was so sad writing it, it’s my favorite chapter in terms of emotion. Reblogs, likes, or comments are always appreciated but not necessary <;3 I hope you enjoy reading!

Divider: @cafekitsune

Previous Chapter | Ao3 | Next Chapter

It Had To Be You Masterlist

“Do you purposely style your hair that way?”

The corner of his eye twitched, irritation flaring in his gut from the source of the voice. He had tried all day just to get a semblance of peace.

Gojo followed him around most of the morning, chattering about something he had barely listened to. Geto had followed him, silent as usual but his presence alone only encouraging his best friend. Lunch was the only time he could find a secluded spot and just be alone.

The small oak tree next to the track field was easily overlooked; no one ever ventured that far unless they were there to exercise and even then it was quiet and tranquil. He thought he was safe.

“I don’t mean to sound rude, but I am pretty curious.”

He sighed slowly, shoulders sagging in resignation as he closed his book without making a new marker. There was no use in ignoring him, he had been followed by intrusive people all day and every day since high school began. If he could tolerate Gojo and his loud and smothering personality and still remain sane, he could tolerate anyone.

“Are you ignoring me? I won’t go away.”

Oh, how he wished the opposite.

The source of the voice was staring at him cheerily, brown hair dangling in the air and slightly comically large eyes twinkled in his direction, his entire face upside down as he hung from a low branch of the strong tree. An upside down eyebrow quirked in his direction, large mouth flashing at him as the source swayed slightly.

“The style seems intentional, but I’ve never seen a lot of people wear it that way.”

“Is there a reason why you care so much?”

A shrug, hanging arms pulling to accommodate the movement that would normally be performed rightside up.

“Are you sad?”

He folded his arms across his chest, eyes impassive and blank, a dark blonde eyebrow twitching as his irritation flared to life once more. He hated vague questions that left the answers open to interpretation. And while he appreciated the directness of the question, it was still invasive and unnecessary.

“Is there a reason why you have chosen to bother me? I don’t even know you.”

“I don’t know you either.”

He blinked at him in surprise, annoyance now joining the party and festering with his irritation, swirling together to create what would surely be a headache if he didn’t fix the situation quickly.

“I’m leaving.”

He made to get up, grabbing his book and throwing his bag over his shoulder. The man fumbled, his movements struggling from his haphazard form, arms flailing and face turning more red from the rush of blood to his skull.

“Okay I’m sorry! But its like you make yourself look broody on purpose! I had to know.”

He threw the man an exasperated look, the last fibers of his patience dissolving into the wind that had picked up around them both.

“It is not on purpose. It’s how I like to style my hair. Furthermore, I really do not have to explain anything to you.”

The man was quiet, large eyes flashing with guilt and flooding his face quickly. The sight was something he had seen on others frequently, but right now on his face, it felt foreign. Wrong. The guilt that had colored his features gave way to mirth, large eyes twinkling at him as he smirked.

“But you still did now, didn’t you?”

And just like that, he was done entertaining. He stood up, snatching his book from the grass and making for a start to the cafeteria. Maybe he could find an empty classroom to retreat to with what remained of his lunch break.

He ignored the yells of apology from the man behind him, closed his ears to the heavy groan as the man fell from the tree and plopped onto the dry grass, and kept his eyes forward even as the man jogged up to him, showing in his peripheral as he fell into step with him. The man didn’t speak for a while, the sound of grass and sticks snapping beneath their feet, the gentle hum of the wind around them sifting through the thin fabric of their clothes, the growing volume of chatter as they drew closer to the school cafeteria.

“I’m Haibara by the way.”

“That’s funny, I don’t recall asking for your name at all.”

He expected choked protests and loud shouts of playful indignation from his statement. It’s what always happened when he spoke to Gojo and sometimes even Shoko after they had pulled him too thin. They never gave up and always made it clear that his statements caught them off guard and only served as fuel to keep going, keep prodding, keep picking until he was red faced and teetering with frustration and annoyance. 

But Haibara remained silent, prompting him to look over. His large eyes were closed, hands shoved into the pockets of his black jacket, brown hair billowing from the wind and face turned up toward the sky as he soaked in the patchy sunlight from such a cloudy day. The relaxed smile on his face was hard to miss. Haibara looked like he was content to go about his day even if this interaction didn’t go well. Even if he never got his name, he would probably walk into the cafeteria with a smile on his face, sit next to his friends, and carry on about his day knowing he at least met someone new.

He didn’t understand it. 

“I’m Nanami.”

Haibara’s eyes popped open, his mouth dropping into a shocked ‘o’ as he realized he had struck paydirt. He looked over at Nanami, his already joyful face breaking as he smiled brightly in his direction.

“Oh ho ho we break the ice at last. Ooo! How about Nanamin? It really rolls off the tongue.”

“I will slap you.”

 ***

It was easy to get up and go to work every morning. It was easy to put on a pair of slacks and a button up, throw on a blazer and a crisp tie and shove his feet into nice shoes that he had worked hard for. It was easy to gel and part his hair, push the unusual glasses further up the bridge of his nose and slide on his Cartier watch before heading out the door and towards the office.

It was easy because the facts did not lie.

Everyone dies and time waits for no one.

Carry on.

Carry on even though Yaga had implored that Kento take a few weeks of bereavement. Carry on even though Gojo had hovered even more and his usual playful looks and comments were instead filled with sadness and worry. Carry on even though you had been nothing but supportive and caring and wonderful, trying your best just to let him know that he wasn’t alone, arms open to catch him when he finally decided to fall.

But it made no sense to fall.

It made no sense to take bereavement. What for? Yu wasn’t a family member or a partner. Taking bereavement was available to him because Yaga respected him, and Kento refused to set that precedent in the office. It made no sense for Gojo to change how he carried himself around Kento. Gojo and Yu were friends, but they were never as close as Yu and Geto. If anything, Gojo’s sudden decline obnoxious behavior only made Kento more annoyed, more angry, more anxious and he had refused to be around him even more than before.

He had thought it would be difficult to go about everyday tasks. It had only been a week but Kento acclimated like a fish to water and the mantra in his head kept him going.

Carry on.

And that’s why it was easy to wake up an hour earlier than usual and run in the cold Nakameguro air until his thighs were burning and his chest was aching and his mind could only think about regulating his heartbeat and nothing else. That’s why it wasn’t so hard to worry about eating when he realized he wasn’t hungry anyway. And even though he would sleep almost twelve hours every night, close his eyes and will himself to dream about getting through the next day, his eyes would be just as weary and heavy as the day before and it was easy to ignore the reason why.

He couldn’t think about it. If he entertained it, if his mind even drifted to that long day in the hospital, if he thought about the image of Gojo with his head in his hands, Kaya’s face soaked with tears and buried in Geto’s shirt as she sobbed ceaselessly, the sound of the Holter monitor incessantly beeping in his ears, if he had just one lapse in his thoughts he would snap. Because he was afraid of how he would react. He was terrified of the thought of sinking deep into a pool of sorrow and despair and never having the strength to come up for air.

He had to carry on. It made no sense at all to do anything else.

In only a week, the walls Kento had pulled up around himself were so thick that even you couldn’t get through. You had grown accustomed to his stoic and serious demeanor, because deep down you knew him. You knew that while he was a serious man who barely tolerated idiotic behavior and open ended questions, he was kind and reserved and sociable around those he felt comfortable with. You knew that the flat and relaxed line of his lips that he showed at work and in public would curl just a little for his family and friends, that his broad and tense shoulders would relax as soon as he was in the comfort of his home, that his direct and blunt words would soften the minute eyes he did not recognize were not on him.

You knew him.

You knew to expect a shift in his behavior the minute he walked through your door that night of Yu’s death. But you never expected a shift to such this degree. It was sudden, sharp and steep, throwing you off axis and making it so hard for you to right yourself.

His side of your bed was cold and empty every morning when you woke up, you were used to that though. He ran almost every morning, waking up at the crack of dawn to slip away into the cold. But he was always back by the time you woke; you were used to the sound of the shower running or pans clanging in your kitchen when your eyes fluttered open. But these past few days, you would already be showered and dressed, toast and eggs made for yourself and some for him and a cup of tea halfway done by the time he sagged through the door, covered in sweat and cheeks red from the cold air and his racing heart. He always smiled at you on his way to the shower, a small gesture that always filled you with warmth every morning, but lately only made your chest ache as you watched the muscles in his face curve but the look in his eyes remain just as dim as the day before.

He would kiss you on the lips and turn down breakfast every morning, using your pregnancy as an excuse to keep you from arguing with him.

It will help with your energy through the day. Don’t worry about me, I’ll grab something at the office.

But you knew he never did; you made Gojo snoop on him at the office to confirm. The white lie shouldn’t have bothered you, lots of people simply forget to eat because life gets crazy, but it only made the dread boil in your stomach, bubbling and thick and growing as each day passed and he buried his little lapses under the blanket of everyday routine.  

It was nauseating that he fell asleep next to you every night with an arm around you like everything was fine, upsetting that he kissed you on the lips before he left for work, troubling that he still went for morning runs, still cooked dinner, still talked about his day at the office. He did all of those things even though you could see the void of darkness in his gaze, the lack of subtle inflection in his usually even voice, the heaviness in his eyes every morning before he disappeared through the door.

It was as if he was trying so hard to go about his day as if nothing had happened, but his body displayed a different picture. Even though his actions were the same, his body only showed you the growing signs of despair, neglect, and sorrow festering beneath his skin, pushing against his epidermis and threatening to burst from the seams.

You had tried everything. Tried to talk to him when he was alone, tried to joke just a little to bring a smile to his face, tried to offer him any sort of affection just to break through the barrier of ice he had put around himself that he thought you couldn’t see, and nothing had worked. When you pulled him out of the house to get dinner, he could only take a few bites before feigning not feeling well with a gentle smile on his face, pushing his food toward you and beckoning you to eat. When you pulled him onto the couch to watch reality tv, he would only stare at the screen, throwing out usual comments that only felt rehearsed and empty. Even when you put a movie on, he would collapse in exhaustion almost immediately.

You knew to give him his space. Grief was never the same for anyone and the process for coping was a journey that each person had to take for themselves. You couldn’t force a reaction from him, it would either push him away from you completely or pull him into an array of emotions that would surely overwhelm him and surely overwhelm you; hearing a loud open mouthed laugh from him still jarred you due to how rare it was, how would you react when his actions stemmed from sadness instead of hilarity?

But you didn’t want him to run. Ignoring the reality of the situation would only make his grief all the harder to process, let alone accept.

The announcement from Kaya of Yu’s memorial came to both you and Kento’s phones a late night when he had managed to stay awake on the couch. Even though his eyes were empty as he looked at the screen, vivid hues and lights flashing in the reflection of his irises, his arm was still warm around you as he pulled you closer to him.

Per Yu’s will, he had outright refused a funeral and it only made sense. Someone as bright and happy as he was would have never wanted the people he loved to wallow and cry as they looked at his cold body inside of a casket. He had opted to have his ashes returned to the earth, buried in the soil under a reserved tree to help it grow and still be connected to things somehow.

He had meant for it to be a joke, a night of too much vodka with his wife before a child was in the picture and he had drunkenly purchased a protected tree at a ‘tree forest’ in Nakameguro with every intention to get his money back the next morning. But he never did. And when Aiko was born and he was forced to acknowledge his waning mortality, he realized keeping the tree would be a good decision in the long run. He hated the thought of rotting away six feet under the ground.

Chiyo and Santo replied in the group chat, offering their home for dinner and a small get together afterwards which Kaya responded with an enthusiastic yes almost immediately.

He was tense next to you as you finished reading the messages, his arm still warm around you but the muscles tight and hard against your skin. It felt as if a string had been pulled tight between you both, sharp scissors open and caressing the string, the sharpness of each side of its shears digging into the hair thin material.

And almost immediately he relaxed against you, hard muscles unflexing, the softness of his arms pillowing against your skin. You spared a glance up at him, smiling softly as his eyes locked with yours, his head already inclined down at you as you studied him. His hair was loose against his forehead, blonde strands messy and frizzy and beckoning for you to run your hands through them. His eyes were so cold, the natural light behind his brown irises completely extinguished. The light from the tv cast an almost eerie glow on his face, highlighting and sharpening his cheekbones, cradling the flat line of his full lips.

You wanted to shake his shoulders, pull his face into your chest and burying your hands into his hair and just allow him to let go. You wanted to stroke the hairs of his undercut, press a kiss to the sensitive spot on the underside of his jaw and tell him that it’s okay to be sad. It’s okay to cry. It’s okay to feel like its unfair. He was his best friend and he needs him to grieve. It’s okay.

But instead you stroked his cheek with your thumb, the soft skin sliding against your fingerprint and your chest tightening as he inclined his head into your touch for barely a second before he stopped himself, the action making your heart lurch and stutter, a discomforting pain shooting down into your belly.

“I’ll probably go to my apartment tomorrow, I have not been there in quite some time.”

There was a slight hesitation in his tone, his eyes flickering away only a centimeter before they locked with yours again. You didn’t reply to him, continuing to stroke his face as your thumb traced down to the sharp cut of his jaw.

“Are you comfortable with me staying there for a few days?”

You tilted your head in confusion at his question, your thumb now caressing the soft skin of his chin, the rough pad of your finger grazing the small bumps of growing stubble.

“If that’s what you would like. Have dinner at my place and then go to yours? Wont that be a commute for you every day?”

One of his large and warm hands suddenly cradled your wrist, stopping the movement on his cheek as he brought your hand to his lips and kissed the skin of your palm.

“You misunderstand me. I would like to just be at my apartment alone.”

You pulled your hand from his grasp, his touch suddenly scalding to the point of discomfort. The action made his eyebrows pinch, fractionally and barely breaking his face, but still there.

“Have I done something wrong?”

Kento shook his head quickly, taking your hand again in reassurance. You wanted to pull it away, his touch was too hot, your mind moving too fast with irrational implications of his words.

“Absolutely not. I just…I need a little time to just be alone, by myself, with my own thoughts. It has nothing to do with you or anyone, I just feel unwell and unbalanced and I would like to be alone to figure that out.”

You bit the inside of your lip, the pain a welcome distraction from the sudden stinging in your eyes.

“Would you like to talk about it? If you don’t talk about what happened with Yu then—”

“I can’t.”

His voice was practically a whisper. Just two words that were filled with so much pain and so heavy that they weighed between you both, fluttering over to you and pressing against your chest.

This was normal. Let him grieve, give him time. It’s okay.

But it didn’t feel okay. It felt like he was only pulling further and further away from you, the ice around him thickening even more to the point where you couldn’t see him through it.

But you had to stay strong. You had to.

He pressed a gentle kiss to your palm again, his eyes flashing with a variety of emotions all at once before they washed away.

“I can’t talk about it. And I just—I need to have some time to get my thoughts in order, to breathe on my own and think. Just for a few days…at least until the memorial.”

The memorial that was a week away.

Oh.

Your ears were ringing, anxiety blooming in your stomach and seeping into your bloodstream, pumping fast and steady to your heart. The voices in your head screamed nothing but rejection. He wanted to be alone, to think.

Away from you.

No. No you wouldn’t let the thoughts win, you wouldn’t entertain the absurdity blaring in your ears. You blinked up at him, nodding profusely and offering a quick smile that only made the stinging in your eyes intensify.

“Of course. I understand. Just—just know that you can talk to me, Kento. I’m always here. Please don’t think you have to do this alone.”

His steady gaze analyzed the features of your face, taking in the slight misting of your eyes, the small pinch between your eyebrows, the subtle twitch on the side of your lip that wanted to pull into a frown.

He wanted to soothe you, wanted to brush away the discomfort and upset with his hands and his lips and reassure you that things would be okay.

But he just couldn’t. Because the thought of acknowledging his own emotions suddenly made him feel tired. So very tired.

“We should head to bed.”

His usually low voice was scratchy from underuse and strained from something you wanted to hope was sorrow. You wanted to hope the tone in his voice was the sadness finally breaking through and asking for your comfort.

But it didn’t matter, he wouldn’t tell you anyway.

***

“My dear, you’ve hardly touched your tea. I would like to think that I know you well enough by now to know that something is bothering you.”

Chiyo’s soft voice was a startling welcome to your steadily growing anxiety. It had been almost a full week since your talk on the couch with Kento. Almost a full week of one call a day and a few texts to get you by as you gave him the time and space that he needed. Every day you spent on the phone with him, you thought he would sound just a little less despondent. But nothing had changed. And you should have known that. You weren’t naïve to the process. No one should be able to process the grief of a loved one in such a short time.

But it was hard not to feel alone.

Her son’s eyes reflected back at you as you looked up at her, her black hair tied up into a sleek bun, her face freshly cleansed and shining from her rigorous skincare routine that you had gotten to see firsthand. It almost felt like Ome was staring back at you and while Chiyo’s eyes weren’t as alien and cutting as your best friend, they could still read every single emotion on your face with little effort.

Perhaps it was years of being a mother to someone like Kento that gave her the edge. Being able to raise a child as quiet and reserved as him probably gave her the blueprint to reading even the subtlest of cues in almost anyone.

But even still you didn’t want to tell her about your talk with his son a few days prior. She was too protective of him and would no doubt be at his door, begging to come inside and hindering any progress he might be making.

“Has Kento ever had to process grief? Before Yu?”

Hey eyes filled with understanding, dainty shoulders relaxing in her seat as she clutched her steaming mug of coffee closer to her chest.

“Unfortunately, no. Both my mother and father are still alive. Santo’s mother died before Kento was born. Kento has not really changed; he’s always been reserved and direct. He had no problem telling me and his father how he felt about things, because we raised him, we know every intricacy and nuance of our son and I think Kento knew that to pull up some kind of mask around us was asinine. But besides me and Santo…Yu was the closest person to him. I never thought I would see the day of someone else coming into my own home with my son, introducing himself and slowly worming his way into the quiet and well routined life that Kento had made for himself. Yu was just…so good. Everything about him was good and I think the fact that he could acknowledge his own shortcomings and his fears was something that mystified Kento and also encouraged him.”

Chiyo took a solemn sip from her coffee, her eyes suddenly downcast as she contemplated to herself and let the hot coffee slide down her throat.

“Kento for all of his strength and courage and wit, ran from the things that would expose him to the world. He hated the thought of willingly accepting that showing himself to the world might bring ridicule and judgement. In his mind, what was the point of the potential for being hurt if you never had to confront it anyway? It’s why he never went to culinary school, why he never opened a bakery, why he ended his relationships with women before they could get too serious and he would have to open himself up. Accepting vulnerability and showing himself to others who he would never know on a personal level has always been his weakness. And the one person who actually made him a little more willing to break that pattern is dead. I would give anything to bring Yu back, not only for his own family but at least so Kento wouldn’t feel the way that he probably does now.”

You sighed into your mug, the pressure of your breath putting a watery dent in your tea, the steam furling around the cup and hitting your face. You watched the water smooth out, your reflection coming into view as you glared at yourself in frustration.

“Are you going to tell me what’s happened?”

You blinked up at her, eyes a little misty from the steam on your corneas. She offered you a kind gaze, her smooth skin pulling into a soft smile, evaporating all resistance you were desperately trying to hold onto. Her expression only changed fractionally, her eyebrows furrowing in between intervals as you explained the conversation between you and Kento days before. She was quiet for a few seconds too long when you finished speaking, the silence of her large kitchen deafening as she blinked slowly at you, her black long lashes fluttering against her round cheeks before she sighed down into her mug and threw you a somber look.

“You have every right as the mother of his child to give him time in a span that feels comfortable to you. While I don’t think my son would hurt you intentionally, I do know that his emotions and behavior right now are things I’ve never witnessed before so I’m going into this blind.”

She reached across the granite countertop, grabbing both of your hands around your cooling mug of tea. Her hands were warm, as small as yours but radiating a motherly affection that you soaked up like a sponge.

“See how he’s doing at the memorial and go from there. You cant dwell on things that have not happened yet.”

***

The May wind brought a nice draft against the billowy fabric of your v-neck maxi dress. You had opted to pile your curls atop your head, tendrils falling from the hold of the bun and framing your face. Even though the cemetery was so large, the small array of trees reserved specifically for this purpose was a great spot, nestled away from others but not too far to be ignored. Even while drunk, Yu made a great choice. You were thankful that Kaya followed every wish of her husband to the exact detail. The memorial was intended to be intimate and it felt like just that. Your friends, his parents, a few coworkers from the bakery, his daughter and wife; all people who had grown close to him and got to see him for who he was.

Kaya’s words were a blur in the background as you pulled in a deep breath, your eyes drawing up to the canopy of trees above you, the sun peaking through the holes and patches of leaves that had weaved together. Despite the gravity of the situation, everyone seemed to be in high spirits. Gojo had whisked Aiko onto his shoulders, pulling a small smile onto her face as she grabbed fistfuls of his white hair. Ome was watching them both, her smooth features holding a soft smile as her grey eyes took in the sight of the man who has been the bane of her existence entertain a child. Shoko hung in the back, her typical dark shadows beneath her eyes for once covered up with concealer, her hands free of a cigarette as she leaned against a lone tree. Geto hung by Kaya’s side, a hand constantly on her back and soothing her in his own silent way, his typical soft smile only directed at her. Their relationship was a question that you would have to ask Kento. If he would just show up.

The thought of him not being here, of not being able to face Yu’s death, it made your stomach twist to the point of pain. You pulled in a quiet breath to calm your nerves, absentmindedly rubbing the side of your growing stomach and willing yourself to think positively just for today. You had to be okay, you had to be strong.

But you missed him. It had only been a week and even with the constant communication, you missed him so much.

The feel of a hand covering yours on your belly startled you, your eyes flying open as you turned to the source, ready to yell and smack whoever had decided to touch you without asking. But it was only Kento. Face soft, eyes still a little vacant, but that familiar soft smile as he brought your hand to his lips, kissing the skin in what was becoming a habit you were growing all too fond of. You relaxed instantly from the sight of him, your chest unclenching for the first time in days. His loose hair looked good, you couldn’t deny the flare of heat that swept down your spine as you admired him. Even though it was free flowing, his hair was even, without flyaway and freshly clipped along the nape of his undercut. He was dressed in simple black pants and a short sleeved black shirt, the leather of his belt gleaming in the sun. Even with the black Chelsea boots completing his ensemble, the heaviness in his stance made him look smaller and less commanding.

“You look lovely.”

You soaked in his words, taking in every last syllable from his mouth, breathing in the soft richness of his cologne, distracting you from the density of the situation you were both in. You wanted to ask him how he was doing, wanted to see if he would at least come to your home after the memorial, sleep in your bed for at least tonight. But you knew that wasn’t the goal, not right now.

You threaded your fingers through his, relishing the feel of your small hand in his much larger one as you gestured to the crowd around Yu’s tree. The space between his eyebrows pinched, the skin crinkling and pressing together. You took a step in the direction of the crowd, tugging softly on his hand and refusing to react as you felt his fingers tighten against you immediately, sharp and sudden, beckoning you to enable his need to keep away.

“Come say hi to everyone.” Your voice was soft as you looked up at him, offering a small smile as a means to smooth the crease between his brows. “I’m sure Aiko would love to see you.”

That seemed to do the trick as you felt his grip loosen against you, the crease lightening and his throat clearing as he took one step and then another towards the crowd, pulling you unconsciously with him. You followed silently, content to watch him go towards the pull of Aiko’s gentle call of his name, her mother’s hazel eyes shining down at him from Gojo’s shoulders as she lifted her hands, demanding his attention. He answered her immediately, yanking her playfully off of Gojo and blowing a raspberry into her cheek, her squeals carrying through the warm air around her father’s tree.

***

“How is he doing?”

Ome had been surprisingly calm with you these past few weeks. Maybe it was the fact that she knew her typically sarcastic behavior would not work well in the face of grief. Maybe it was the fact that she was too sad herself; she had hardly known Yu but she couldn’t deny that the sadness of others around her had seeped into her pores as well. Maybe it was the fact that you were pretty far in your pregnancy and she didn’t want to risk you ending up in the hospital because you had smacked her for being stupid. Or maybe it was just Gojo. Something had changed with them, shifted almost overnight and she had resolved to simply be supportive of him. Regardless when it all came down to it, she would never leave your side.

You sighed as you took a sip of the water she had brought you in your perch in the Nanami living room. Chiyo had brought the fabric rocking chair out again just for the occasion and practically demanded that you remain seated unless absolutely necessary. When you tried to protest, Kento had doubled down, his empty eyes still looking down at you with worry to the point where you rolled your own eyes and gave up.

“I don’t really want to talk about it, Ome.”

“I want to say something, but I’ll be nice because you’re going through a lot.”

“How very gracious of you,” you scoffed, a small smirk growing on the side of your mouth as you glared at her. “I’m just trying to be supportive and I’m struggling. But I’ll get through it.”

Even in her simple black dress, modest and stopping at the tops of her knees, she was of course the most beautiful thing in the room. Gojo, who had normally made twelve passes at her by now had remained silent, his weird blue eyes constantly shifting to her across the room, transfixed in a way that he had long given up trying to joke around. She twirled a kinky curl from her loose hair around her fingers, lips pursed in contemplation before you watched the resolve fill her eyes.

“No one deserves you. I will always say that, I will always believe that. I’ll always protect you until my heart stops beating. But if there’s one man I would want to try and steal you from me, it’s definitely Nanami. He’s trying. Be patient with him, keep doing what you’re doing, and only do what you’re physically able. You’re having a baby soon and as much as you love him, you cant afford for something to happen to your daughter.”

Your ears were burning as you listened to her, the rest of her words fading into nothingness as you replayed what she said. Surely it was a slip of the tongue from her. You tried to rationalize the logic and unlikelihood that Ome would ever mess up with anything. It was rare for her and that only made the ringing in your ears blare louder.

“I can only assume from your blank expression that you went brain dead when I said you loved him? Do have some sense, babe. If I was a man who managed to sleep with you, get you pregnant, and got to be around the type of person that you are, I would be smitten as well.”

You glared at her, the ringing snapping from your ear drums as her sarcastically wrapped compliment made you fill with annoyance. She gazed back at you, eyes filled with mirth as she realized you had fallen so easily into her trap, your mouth opening in her direction and ready to snarl at her to behave.

“Ome, I really don’t think—”

“What is this? Why are you giving this to me?”

Kento’s voice was low and without any raise in volume, but in the quiet of his family’s house it carried over to you, filled with shock and a small hint of irritation. You struggled to your feet, ignoring the concerned looks of Yu’s parents while they entertained Aiko as you rushed past them and into the kitchen. All of your friends were crowded around the kitchen island, each person holding an envelope that looked as if their names had been scribbled on the front. Kaya’s hands were clutched to her chest, her face filled with worry as Kento outright scowled down at the paper in his hands. Geto hung by her side, an interaction that was increasing in regularity and only puzzling you more as he rubbed his hand along her back, his own eyes downcast.

“Kento…its part of his will. Yu wanted you to have—”

“How do you even know his will is recent?”

Kento’s voice cut Kaya off, even like usual but blistering with skepticism as he blinked wide eyed down at the contents in his hands. You walked closer to him, teetering on a tightrope between the atmosphere in the room and the emotions radiating off of him that you had never experienced and were not prepared for.

Kaya took an even breath, her eyes pained and remorseful as she swallowed the bile in her throat and shouldered on. You imagine she knew to expect this, had prepared for the variety of emotions that would come with distributing demands of a will. It was a heavy burden for her, to look at her husband’s wishes on paper when he had not even been taken from her less than a month. You couldn’t imagine the grief, the pain, the strength to even be standing and doing any of this.

“Yu updated his will last month, Kento. I can assure you it’s recent and your portion of what he wants has remained the same since he opened the bakery.”

Kento shook his head in disbelief, his eyes reading whatever document was in his hand over and over and over, trying to contemplate the validity of it before he was folding the contents hastily, a slight tremble in his fingers as he shoved it back into the envelope and held it out to Kaya.

“No. There is clearly a mistake here and I refuse to take this.”

“Nanamin—” Gojo tried to speak but was cut short by the menacing look Kento shot his way. Gojo was used to his friend’s glares of annoyance and exasperation, thrived off of it and used it as fuel to keep pestering. But he had never seen Kento direct outright rage his way, had never seen usually serious and stoic eyes harden like stone, piercing his freakishly tall form and forcing him to swallow and look away.

Anger and confusion emitted from Kento in waves, flooding the room and pouring down your throat, drowning you slowly and paralyzing your muscles as you looked at your boyfriend clearly for the first time in weeks. That raw emotion you had begged for was finally pushing against his skin from the inside out, splintering and spilling through the cracks.

Chiyo brushed past you, coming up to the side of her son, her eyes filled with worry as she pressed her hands into her sides, her fingers flexing and fighting the desire to rest on his arm. She could feel the hesitation just like you, the uncertainty of the situation, of the fact that her only child was displaying behavior she had never seen nor practiced for.

“Kento please.”

The sound of his mother’s voice made him flinch, thrusting the envelope through the air in Kaya’s direction with a little more force than necessary, the action making her jump and Geto’s hand immediately rest against the back of her neck to soothe her, his dark purple eyes shooting his friend a dangerous look.

Kento could care less, his body running on exhaustion and fury as he ignored the way his body began to shake, his fingers digging into the paper of the envelope, threatening to rip in his hands.

“I don’t want it Kaya. I don’t care what the will says, it’s clearly wrong. Yu was wrong.”

It was hurtful on so many levels, cutting through everyone in the room as Kaya blanched from his words, her eyes misting with tears. Geto’s eyes widened in shock before fogging over with an anger you had never seen before, his eyebrows pinching as he fought the urge to snap at his friend.

“Kento, that’s enough.”

Your words shocked even you as they left your lips, low and gentle but still filled with warning and admonishment. He blinked rapidly, dry and emotionless eyes faltering with flickering emotion that he was battling to keep buried inside of him. You could hear the heaving of his chest, the deep breathing from his nose as he tried to control his emotions.

He swallowed softly, eyebrows furrowing with guilt as he slammed the envelope down on the counter, the sound pulling another jolt from everyone in the rom.

He opened his mouth to speak, gaping as he tried to come up with words before he spoke softly.

“Forgive me Kaya. Excuse me.”

He rushed past you without even acknowledging your presence, an action that made your chest clench tightly with discomfort as you watched everyone in the kitchen clear a path for him as he strode purposefully from the room, unbridled rage seeping from every footstep as he opened the front door of his family’s home and left without another word, the door slamming shut behind him, rattling the paintings on the wall and shooting a shock through your body.

Even through the thin veil of tears in your eyes, your first action was to go to him, taking a step forward in the direction of the front door before Geto was softly grabbing your arm and stopping you in your tracks. He had left Kaya in her spot, still rooted to the floor in shock as Gojo pulled her into a tight embrace.

Geto’s gentle eyes had lost that barrage of anger as he looked down at you, the corners of his lips uncharacteristically turned down into a frown.

“Leave him be. You trying to talk to him right now will get nowhere. Give him a few hours, come have dinner with us and then go see him.”

You wanted to pull away from him, to yank your arm back and chase after Kento anyway just to make sure he was okay. But you knew he was right, you knew you would get absolutely nowhere if you tried to talk to a man who you had never seen this angry towards the people he cared most about. And if he directed that anger at you, you probably wouldn’t have had the strength to shoulder through it.

So you nodded softly in agreement and drifted over to Kaya to console her as best as you could.

***

You were coiled tight like a wire as you knocked on his apartment door. Five long hours had passed since he had stormed from his parents house and not one word since. No text to say he was alright, no short phone call to apologize for his actions. Just radio silence and your nerves were in shambles.

Two minutes and no answer.

You could hear movement from the otherside, barely noticeable but still there to indicate someone was inside.

You took a deep breath, shouldering past the pain in the center of your chest and steeling what remained of your nerves as you raised your fist to knock again.

The door opened almost instantly, yanked from its hinges as the occupant inside came into your view.

The smell of alcohol, rich and expensive whiskey hit you like a freight train, shooting up your nostrils and down your throat, burning the muscle from the inside that you had to blink away the sudden prickle in your eyes.

His hair was in disarray, ruffled as if he had run his hands through it every two minutes. His cheekbones seemed sharper than usual; whether it was from the consequences of his reluctance to eat a full meal or the way his gaze down at you made him seem a little more menacing, you weren’t sure. Those brown eyes you were used to looking up into had almost been frosted with an overlay of grey and drunkenness, making him look so empty, so devoid of anything left inside of him. His shirt was untucked from his slacks, his leather belt nowhere to be found and his feet socked and free from his expensive boots.

You hated that even in his darkest moment, even when he was scowling down at you, he was the most handsome creature you had ever seen. Tall and dishevled, drunk and angry, even through all of it, the sharpness of his jaw had remained unchanged, the elegant curve of his nose had made him seem just a little bit more angelic.

You hated it so much.

“What is it that you need?”

It was a harshness that you were expecting but had hoped on the elevator ride up would not come to fruition. But you had to face the music now and try to shoulder through the hurt in your own body as Nanami Kento from the very first day of the marketing summit almost seven months ago spoke to you as if you were just another person at work.

Stay strong, you had to stay strong.

“I wanted to come and check on you. May I come in?”

His large pale hand gripped the side of his door, pulling it closer to himself and giving you the message loud and clear.

“No you may not.”

Don’t let it get to you. Don’t let it get to you. Stay strong. Stay fucking strong.

You rubbed the sides of your stomach, trying to soothe yourself and keep your anxiety in check and not bring any stress to the baby as you shook off the glare you wanted to throw up at him.

“Can you let me in please? You’re drunk, Kento—”

“Drunk or not, I’ve stated my demands quite clearly.” You refused to acknowledge the painful twist of your stomach as his words slid down to you. “I dont want to bring any stress to you or the baby, so please…leave.”

Your teeth dug into the sides of the dry tongue in your throat, your eyes stinging with every blink, shoulders faltering to display what remained of your wilting dominance as you lifted your chin up at him in defiance, silently commanding him to stop being stupid and let you inside.

But those stoic and straight eyes simply narrowed in return before he was stepping back into his apartment and slamming the door in your face.

Your eyes were wide with disbelief, your lower lids brimming with tears as the shock slapped you in the face. You had expected defiance, had expected him to smile through his pain and constantly insist that he was fine and he just wanted alone time. You had prepared for it.

You hadn’t prepared for him to be drunk out of his mind, talking to you as if he still loathed you, shooting sharp and painful indifference down at your shorter frame and outright rejecting the need to face all of this now. Tonight. In whatever form that would entail, he had to face some part of the reality of the situation.

The echoes of the door slamming replayed like a broken record in your ears, growing louder and louder with each passing second and bringing forth the emotion you had tried so hard to keep in check.

Rage.

It was only two weeks, you couldn’t force him to be a certain way. But the treatment you had just received was unjustified and unnecessary and painful to a degree that you would not tolerate it again. He could be mad at the world, but he would not rationalize the need to be mad at you. Not when there was too much at stake with a baby on the way.

Grief or not, drunk or not.

And if after tonight it meant that he never wanted to see you again, no matter how much you loved him you would know that you went out fucking swinging, by doing everything in your power to at least turn him in the right direction of a healthy path of recovery.

You knew this wasn’t the Kento that was real, even at his lowest, he would never have acted like this. And it only reaffirmed just how painful Yu’s death had been for him. How the one person he loved besides his parents had been taken from the world too soon, without remorse and in a way that was unfair.

But you would fix this, you would slap some sense into him even if that meant you had to strip his soul down until there was nothing left, forcing him to pick up the pieces correctly.

You were silently thankful that in his drunken stupor he had forgotten to lock his door. You yanked it open, one hand cradling your stomach and the other slamming the door shut behind you as you held onto that rage and confidence and bravery to see this through to the end. Kento was leaning against the sink in his kitchen, a bottle of Hibiki that you just knew had cost a pretty penny turned up to his mouth, the lip of the bottle pressed to his mouth in pause as he glared at the intruder of his home.

Recognition flashed through his eyes, his lids widening before they were narrowing to a deathly degree.

“Get. Out.”

The words were cold, chilly and icy as they slid across his hardwood floor and wrapped around your ankles, rooting you to the spot. Your anger had festered to an unprecedented level, pushing against the back of your throat with words tinged with a severity of harshness you hadn’t used on him in a very long time, making your heart race as you panted slowly through your nose, your gaze locked with his across the room.

“I said get out!”

Louder this time, uncharacteristically and shockingly loud, the decibles breaking the ice around your ankles and propelling you forward as you strode in his direction, taking in his seething form as he pulled the lip of the bottle from his lips and opened his mouth to sneer down at you before you were yanking the bottle from him, fighting against the sudden grip that he had around the bottle and grimacing from the contents that had sloshed through the lip and onto the sleeve of your dress.

Those words pushed harder in against your throat, sliding up the back of your tongue and out your mouth before you could stop them. The glare you sent his way could cut through glass, hard and menacing and pushing you to a side of yourself that you had not shown in years.

“Let go of the bottle Nanami. Now.”

The sound of his surname leaving your lips for the first time in months had him faltering, releasing his hold immediately and sagging against the counter as he watched you slam the bottle onto the opposite side of the sink, before you were turning around to collect the trash on his counter.

You were thankful that Kento was blessed with the liver and kidneys that he had. You had only ever seen him drunk twice since knowing him and Gojo had constantly boasted about his friend’s ability to drink anyone under the table if he was pestered hard enough.

But right now, the sight of the two empty bottles on his counter, the plastic from the seal of each litering the granite, it only made you nauseous.

But you wouldn’t show him that, you wouldn’t show him how much you wanted to cry because you were too angry to show that to him, too hard in your own resolve to put him in his place as you collected the bottles and plastic and threw them in the trash.

You turned the half empty bottle of Hibiki upside down, watching the amber liquid fall down into the drain of his sink as you snapped at him, your voice growing in volume.

“Is this how you want to handle your problems, Nanami? Hmm? If something happens to me or your parents and you’re left to care for your daughter, are you going to slither to a hole and drink yourself numb?! Snap at the people who care about you and turn yourself into a person that you don’t recognize simply so you don’t have to every face reality?! You want that?!”

You hadn’t yelled in quite some time, and the rattle of your throat as you spoke fueled your anger, fueled the desire to make him stop and see that he couldn’t continue down this path.

“No it is not, but I told you already that I don’t want you here. For the sake of—”

“SHUT UP!”

Kento’s stopped cold in his tracks as he reached for you, his eyes slightly wide from your yell. He had never seen you this way, even when you were glaring and indiginant when you both worked together, you had never yelled at him like this. Ever.

You ignored the fluttering of kicks in your belly from your daughter, clearly distressed of your voice and forcing you to calm down just a little for her. You slammed the now empty bottle onto the counter, ignoring the splintering of the bottom of the glass as you turned to face him, a finger pointed in his direction, another hand on your belly.

“Shut the fuck up, Nanami.”

He didn’t protest, his lips pulled into a thin line as he looked down at you. You grabbed his arm, trying your best to curl around his large and muscular bicep as you strongarmed him to his couch, ignoring his slightly drunken stumble as you pushed him down into his sofa.

“Don’t move. Don’t look in my direction. Don’t even speak to me unless its to say that you have to fucking puke. Do you understand me?”

His eyes were already locked on his coffee table, his shoulders heaving in indignation as he flexed his hands against the black fabric covering his slacks, mouth taut and eyebrows pinched in frustration as he conceded. You didn’t wait for another word before you were striding back into his kitchen, throwing the last glass bottle into the trash and yanking open his cabinets to search for food.

Every glance you spared his way was the same; he hadn't moved from his spot on the couch, hadn’t turned to look back at you, hadn’t offered any words as you made a few pieces of toast and miso soup.

He frowned in your direction as you set the food and glass of water down on the coffee table in front of him, full lips curling downward as he glanced over what you had prepared, his eyes blinking blearily to process what you were demanding of him.

“I’m not hungry.”

You shot him another glare, just as icy and jagged as before, yanking one of his hands to you and placing a piece of toast between his fingers, pushing it forward to press against his lips.

“I don’t recall asking you if you were. Eat and not another word.”

He took a slow, even breath, his glare losing its heat almost instantly before he was biting down into the buttered bread. You sat silently, your eyes locked on him with every bite, every chew, every swallow until both pieces of toast were gone. He shook his head as he looked down at the bowl of miso soup, his shoulders sagging as you felt the anger from before begin to evaporate into the air, exhaustion sliding up to bat and taking its place.

“I don’t want anymore.”

You grabbed a spoon, scooping some of the soup inside and holding it up to his lips.

“I don’t care. Eat it all.”

All hints of protest in his eyes were extinguished immediately, his mouth opening wordlessly as you pushed the spoon gently into his mouth and let him take over.

You made your way to his master bedroom. You weren’t surprised at the light brown walls of his room, casting it into a sort of comfort that made you want to climb into his own California King bed and rest your head against one of the long fluffy pillows and burrow beneath the grey duvet and sheets. His walnut headboard was so pristine and beautiful it looked as if he could have had it commissioned to be carved personally. You took a small second to admire the large bookcase on the opposite side of his bed, lining his wall with shelves full to the brim of books you had read your self and never heard of before. In the corner of his room and adjacent to the large wall of floor to ceiling windows, a comfortable black arm chair and ottoman was nestled in its own space, covered with a simple throw blanket and ready for use.

You wanted to trail your hands over everything in his home. In the time that you two had been together, you were hardly ever in his apartment. He wanted to be around you, loved the comfort of a home and that you were there in it, it made no sense to sleep in his apartment stories high above the ground. But you wanted to look through his simple walnut dresser, wanted to look through the long glass top case that held his expensive watches and turn over each small bottle of cologne. But you had a mission.

His bathroom was just as luxurious, marble floors, a floor to ceiling shower with a rainfall showerhead that looked as if it had been installed into the ceiling itself, a sleek large white tub and double vanity sinks. All of his appliances looked to be brand new, without blemish and exuding the type of lifestyle a man like Kento would live.

You turned on his tub, grabbing all the essentials you needed from his shower before entering his room again to find clean clothes and laying them on the bed. When you returned to the living room, his bowl and glass cup were empty, the man himself sagging into the couch, his eyes heavy and vacant as he stared at his black television screen. You felt the fluttering of your heart against your ribcage, painful and heavy, pushing away the anger just a little bit as you reached down for his hand and pulled him to his feet.

He didn’t fight you, didn’t try to hold himself down and instead wordlessly followed you through his bedroom and into the bright lights of his bathroom, the sound of running water filling his ears.

He was putty in your hands at this point, following your every silent command as you undressed him and guided him into the hot water. His eyes had lost all of their fight, his body giving up entirely to try and keep you away as he stared at the silver of the faucet, locking eyes with his own distorted reflection. It was a struggle to be on your knees and you couldn’t deny the twinge in your back was more annoying and painful than you thought it would be.

But you didn’t care. You had to soldier on just for tonight, blink through your tears just for tonight, fight through the urge to leave the room and sag to the floor and cry until things started to make sense.

You wanted to, god how you did.

But there was more at stake now. Not just Kento’s sanity but your own and the wellbeing of the child growing inside of you. If today would be the nail on the wall that would finally crack through the tether that held you both together, then you would do everything in your power to let him know that you loved him through all of it. Through the misunderstanding of when you first met, through the good and best times, and through the bad times of this moment. You would be happy knowing that you were there when he needed you.

He didn’t protest as you washed him, lifting his arms silently for you, letting you dunk his head beneath the water to wet his hair and blinked past the sting in his eyes when a sliver of his eucalyptus shampoo touched the edge of his eyelid. You dried him in one of his large fluffy white towels, combed through his thick blonde locks to prevent them from tangling as they dried, pulled a shirt and pair of boxers on his body, forced two more glasses of water down his throat and guided him into the open duvet of his bed.

The feel of his bed and the soft sheets hitting his body finally allowed him to acknowledge the heaviness in his eyes and the abating dizziness in his vision from the copious amounts of alcohol he ingested in only a few short hours.

For the first time since he had disappeared on his couch, his eyes finally slid up to look at you as you pressed a pillow a little more under his head, your eyes focused as you worked. He could finally see the red ring beneath your eyes, you had been crying or at least holding them back long enough where your eyelids were already inflamed. Your messy bun from earlier had been let loose, your curls falling over your shoulders and onto his sheets as you carded a hand through his bangs, pushing the locks from his eyes before you were leaning down and pressing a kiss to the skin above his eyebrows.

It was too much and even though he wanted to push you away and wallow in the dreadful silence of his home, he couldn’t bear to be away from you.

You made to stand, reaching for the lamp on the bedside table before one of his large hands was wrapping around your wrist, devoid of its usual warmth but pleading with you to not recoil from him.

“Stay,” he breathed out into the air, his cheek smushed into the pillow beneath his head. He watched your eyebrows furrow in contemplation, hesitance etching your features as you fought internally with yourself. He swallowed over the painful lump in his throat.

“Please.”

You sighed slowly, the slight beg beneath his deep voice pulling you to him like a siren’s call. You hadn’t expected him to speak again for the rest of the night. You had expected to leave and probably never hear from him for quite awhile. But as soon as he called for you, you knew you could never deny him.

You slipped off your dress, climbing into his large bed with just your panties and nursing bra before you were turning your back, allowing him to wrap his arms around your waist and pull you close to him, the fabric of his soft shirt pressing against your semi-naked back. The cold tip of his nose wormed its way into the crease of your neck, one of his large hands twined with yours and just like that, he relaxed into the bed against you, his bones settling into the sheets and pulling him under.

***

He had slept thirteen hours, thirteen blissful hours. He had hoped he would wake up refreshed, and while he did, the pounding in his head immediately washed it all away and brought back every vivid detail of the day before.

He had already hated the idea of taking a week to himself. In his mind, he thought it was a good idea; take a couple of days alone to just think and get his bearings. But the minute he closed the door to his home after leaving yours, he knew it was a grave mistake. He spent every day staring out the long windows of his room, eyes barely blinking, mind trying its best to go back to that day but being stopped by his own sheer willpower that took every shred of his sanity just to quell. He had been just as much of a mess as before and the sight of you beneath the trees of the cemetery was enough to make him feel just a little better if only for a moment.

He had tried—was trying to convince himself that he didn’t need to acknowledge Yu’s death. It was fine.

Why dwell on things you couldn’t change?

But the subtle pull from you to immerse himself around his family and friends, the constant glances his way when others thought he couldn’t see, everyone’s sniffles and cries and words about what had happened, it was too much for him. Too overwhelming and real. He wasn’t ready, would probably never be ready as much as he knew he needed to be.

But the minute he opened that envelope addressed to him, his name scrawled in Yu’s chicken scratch and looking at the contents inside, he saw red. He saw red over what was inside, forcing him with no choice but to finally immerse himself in a reality he was trying so hard to run away from.

Kento was a composed man, while he was quick to be irritated in the face of others who held no sense, he had never lost control of his temper in the degree that he did in his parents’ kitchen, or in the way he spoke to Kaya, or in the way he spoke and treated you.

And you had faced it head on, rebuked every attempt he threw your way, yelled at him with a severity he had never heard and forced him to get himself together. You were so angry with him, calling him by his own surname to show just how little you were going to tolerate for the rest of the night.

If something happens to me or your parents and you’re left to care for your daughter, are you going to slither to a hole and drink yourself numb?! Snap at the people who care about you and turn yourself into a person that you don’t recognize simply so you don’t have to every face reality?! You want that?!”

The thought of his actions made him sick to his stomach. He could hold his liquor but he had never willingly gotten himself that drunk in ages. And even through the thick haze of his drunkenness last night, your words cut through him clean and sharp. The thought of acting the way he did if something were to happen with his family or if something happened to you…leaving his daughter to deal with her own father choosing to be angry at the world to avoid taking control. The thought made the nausea rise to an unprecedented level.

He wanted to apologize, to get on his knees and beg for you to forgive him when he opened his eyes. But your side of the bed was empty and the sordid thought that his behavior was the final straw for you, made his eyebrows pull together and his throat draw tight.

But the sight of his door opening and you slinking inside with one of his t-shirts on, a glass and painkillers in your hand was enough to have him exhale in relief.

You sank down into the bed next to him and shoved the medicine and water in his direction. He took it without complaint, downing the contents of the water and pills before setting it on the bedside table behind him. He was quiet for what felt like an eternity, his eyes locked on his large hands in his lap, fingering and pinching the soft texture of the duvet that covered his legs.

“Me and Yu got into an argument…at the baby shower when everyone was cleaning up. He had pulled me to the side and brought up co-owning the bakery with him again and we bickered about it for a few minutes. He knew how I felt about it, knew that my opinion wouldn’t change and still pried and pried and pried to the point where he ‘hinted’ at forging my signature on the deed. It was a joke of course but at the time, it only made me furious. All other times when we had this conversation I could play it off or divert it to something else, but this time I was so angry that I told him to find someone else, to never bring it up again and that my stance wouldn’t change.”

You remained impassive as you listened, resting a hand on his back and stroking softly to comfort him as he spoke, his eyes still locked on his hands below him.

"I think it was the first time I had ever seen him angry with me and we left that night without speaking to each other. Or the day after that, or the day after that until—” He stopped short, clearing his throat to disappate the tight clench of his throat.

“I don’t believe in Karma. This entire world is filled with terrible people who do evil and vicious things but also hold power and live in luxury and never face the consequences of their actions. I’ve never believed in something so vast and grand happening to me and altering my entire life based on a small interaction or choice that I made that was infinitesimal in the grand scheme of things. But ever since that day, its all I can think about. It was the last thing he heard—the last words I said to him and I tell myself over and over that maybe this was my consequence for hurting someone as good and as pure as Yu.”

You shook your head through the increasing darkness in his words, stroking his back harder to keep him sane, to make him see reason.

“Don’t say things like that Kento, it’s not true—”

“Yu was a good person. Even when everything was falling around him, he never faltered, he never turned away. He was the only person I knew who could look his fears in the eye, accept his own flaws and never bat an eyelash. He forced me to accept him because it only made sense, everyone should be able to see a person like him. He was deserving of everything; his family, his wife, his daughter, his career. It makes no sense.”

He shook out a sharp breath, a hand threading through his hair as he ignored the racing of his heart, the sweat on the back of his neck, the fraying of his nerves as he soldiered on.

“Do you know how he died? A fucking car hit him. He saw a girl playing in the street and a car that was going almost fourty miles an hour because the driver was looking at his phone hit him as soon as he pushed her onto the sidewalk. Just like that. How do you believe that to be fair?” You could tell he was running on low embers as he spoke, his cheeks ruddy and eyes piercing as he looked over at you.

“He was doing just fine in the hospital. By some miracle the surgery was a success and he expected to make a long but full recovery. I told myself that I would wait until he woke up to apologize to him…and he was awake when I stepped out to get some air. But by the time I had made it back to his room, not even five fucking minutes later, there was—everyone was yelling and running around, defibrillating his chest over and over and over and he just…didn’t wake up. Even when I was given a shred of time to right my wrong, I had missed the mark. I couldn’t think about that day, the very thought of it filled me with so much despair that I could hardly do a simple task. So I did what I do best and I ran. I ran and hid and put on an empty smile for weeks until I opened that fucking envelope and saw the deed to his bakery inside with my name on it.”

You already knew the contents of that envelope, you had let your curiosity fester as you took it from Kaya’s hands after leaving Chiyo and Santo’s house and had looked inside and read the deed and the letter addressed to Kento during a moment of weakness when you were cleaning his house this morning. You shouldn’t have invaded his privacy, but you had rationalized that you needed to know everything to effectively help him. You could forgive yourself later.

“I spoke to him so severely. I know this isn’t about me but a large part of me cant help but think that I may caused this. That my actions set something in motion, a twisted fate that I was bound to face.”

You wouldn't stand for the way he was talking, putting himself down for something that was out of his control. You cradled his face in your hands, your small palms barely eclipsing his cheeks, your fingers bending slightly from the sharpness of his cheekbones. His eyes were still a little empty, less tired than yesterday and a little more lively from the emotional tirade he was on, but still empty.

“You didn’t cause anything, Kento. You probably wont agree with me on this but I’ve always held the notion that everything…happens for a reason. As morbid as some of those facts sound in my head, I use it to bring me some semblance of sanity even during my darkest moments.”

You watched your own thumb stroke the soft skin of his cheeks, the action making his eyes flutter just a little as he listened to you.

“Yu wanted nothing more than to help others and make them feel good in a way that he knew how, baking. Owning a bakery that while small in its stature compared to other businesses, still brought everyone who walked inside of it just a little bit of happiness through their day. He’s always worked with that purpose in life and part of me wants to think that the little girl he pushed out of the way probably reminded him of Aiko. Because to him, he was good at being an amazing father and only he knew how to keep her safe. I’m sure that’s what was going through his mind before he got hit. And even on his deathbed, Yu for as wonderful and as kind as he was, could never hold any sort of animosity towards you. No matter what you tell yourself.”

Kento relaxed into your hold, sagging his shoulders in exhaustion as he listened to the finality in your tone

You reached to the bedside table and pulled the envelope from inside one of the drawers, the sight of it making Kento tense immediately as you opened up its contents and laid them on the bed between you both. Two folded papers, a deed and a note that Yu had inscribed to him. You unfolded the letter and placed it gently into his hands, pushing further into his chest.

“Read it. Please.”

Kento’s eyes analyzed yours, pleading with you as he realized he had finally been backed into the corner of the room he had stupidly locked himself into. He couldn’t argue with you. He couldn’t run from this. Not anymore.

He bit the inside of his cheek until he could taste the twinge of copper on his tongue as he looked down at the letter.

Yes, I wrote this as soon as you left the baby shower because I realize it needs to be done if you continue the way you are. I don’t care how angry you are, this bakery is yours. You’re the only man I have ever met with such talent but is so afraid to harness it to its full potential.

I’ve spent most of our lives making you see the other side of things and I need you to realize how much Nakameguro should see you. 

No more excuses. No more running. Leave that boring job and do what you love before you regret it for the rest of your life.

You’ve got millions in the bank, a banger of a girlfriend, a beautiful baby on the way, and friends who love you.

As you always say to me no matter how many times I try to tune it out, ‘not doing the obvious when all of your options are clearly laid out for you would be asinine.’ 

If I ever croak in some weird ass way (pause for silence if this is the fucking case), I will make sure my family and our friends shove this deed down your throat until you pass it a week later (or sooner idk your schedule) and you’re forced to accept it like you know you want to. 

I bought this bakery with the intention of us both running it until we are old and grey, with you running the show in your own straight faced way like you always do. 

Well its yours now, just like I’ve always wanted. Please take it, Kento and let it grow.

- xoxo (I put ‘xoxo’ here for dramatic effect. I truly hope you're red faced and cussing as you read it)

-Yu 

You had remained perfectly still as he read over the letter, his brown eyes tracing every letter of Yu’s appalling handwriting until he memorized it word for word. His face didn’t falter with emotion or break down into tears like you had imagined it would. He was still impassive, still stone-faced, still indifferent as he folded the letter carefully and slid it back into the envelope before turning his frame to you silently.

You wrestled with the words in your mouth, twirling them with your tongue in hesitation before you ultimately decided that it couldn’t get any worse than this moment.

“Before I met you and all of your friends, it was just me and Ome. And I knew that if something happened to her, I would have no one. Rory, I would have sure, but it wouldn’t be the same. No one understands me like Ome does and the thought of her being taken from me like Yu has from you is something that is almost inconceivable in my head. But, I have more people in my life now. People that care about me and would do anything to make sure I don’t fall.”

You cradled the side of his neck, rubbing the skin beneath his jaw gently and using the feel of him to steel your resolve.

“I know that you cannot force a certain way of grieving someone. But you have people in your life Kento who cannot afford for you to run away. Not like this. As much as you can't stand Gojo, you know he would tear down an entire building complex in rage if something were to happen to you. You have Geto and Shoko who grew up with you and want nothing more than to help you through this. You even have Yuji, who sees you almost like an older brother, who looks up to you, who wants to be just like you. You have your parents who love you. You have Kaya and Aiko who would be inconsolable. You have so many people in your life who will catch you when you fall, who want to do that. Because they all know just how much Yu meant to you and how much you mean to them.”

You could feel his pulse beneath your thumb, picking up speed and making his own chest heave a little quicker with each breath that he took.

“Do I have you?”

It was such a simple question that you were surprised he would ask you. The answer should have been obvious, but from the gentle crease in between his brows you could tell that he needed to hear anything right now. Anything to let him know that you weren’t leaving since he clearly wanted you to stay.

“Of course you do. As long as you want me to stay, I will never leave…but I need you to promise me you’ll stop running. I need you to promise me that you will try. That deed isn’t going anywhere and you don’t have to think about it today, or tomorrow, or even a month from now, but you have to try and acknowledge what has been given to you. For me, for your daughter…and for Yu.”

You offered him a small smile, it was the best you could do as you struggled with the urge hold back the tears threatening to pool in your eyes. Your lids were stinging with every breath you took, inhaling the rawness of the situation in the room, the vulnerability he had freely shown to you yet again. Now that he was finally facing it head on, he had no choice but to let the brevity of the situation cut him open and every single emotion he had been trying to hide for weeks begin to bleed into the room.

You didn’t widen your eyes as you watched the grey overcast of his brown gaze finally lift, every single emotion he had been hiding flooding his irises and making his brow furrow in pain. He exhaled sharply, the sound forcing through his lips and heaving his chest with such strength that you thought he wouldn’t breathe again. The twitch at the corner of his lips was hard to miss, a slight quirk of his muscle that wanted to twist the features of his face as he took another heaving breath and then another, the sound more shaky than the one before. You didn’t speak as he leaned forward to rest his head against your shoulder, his breathing picking up just a little in speed as he tried and failed to get his bearings.

You acted in the only way you knew how in that moment, picking up a hand and carding it through the soft blonde tresses of his hair, the touch of your fingers on his scalp making him jump and flinch, his forehead pressing harder into your shoulder.

“It’s okay, Kento.”

The whispered words seemed to be what he needed to hear, his arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer into his chest as he breathed shakily into the fabric of your shirt. The other hand not in his hair smoothed along the planes of his back, caressing the shaking muscle that you realized wasn’t rising from breathing.

The sharp dig of his fingers into the skin of your back was the first indication that something had changed. The slight jolt of his chest as he exhaled shakily against you was another. But it was the feel of the shirt on your shoulder sticking to your skin that let you know what was really happening. You could feel it dampening further, soaking along the manufactured stitches as he collapsed further and further into you, using you as an anchor in whatever way that he could as he silently fell apart in your arms.

For a man as tall and broad as he was, the tears into your shirt made him feel even more overwhelming, his previously held back emotions almost drowning you as you blinked away your own tears and stroked the skin of his scalp.

“I wont ever go. We wont ever leave you, I promise. I—”

You stopped your self short, continuing to stroke his hair and back as your mind scrambled with the words you had almost let slip from your mouth.

I love you too much.

You had said it a few times to yourself these past two days, a blip in your mind as you worked around the mess and anxiety and rage from getting your boyfriend together. But now that the dust had finally began to settle, now that he had finally been turned in the right direction and pressed his fingers further into you to keep you close, now you could finally hear those words echo in your head without nothing else to distract you.

I won’t ever go. We won’t ever leave you, I promise. I love you too much.

I love you so much.

You blinked away the swimming in your vision, tears slipping through your bottom lashes and down your cheeks as you stroked the hard muscles of his back and the thick hair on his head.

Kento took another long and heaving breath against you, turning his forehead to rest his cheek instead on your shoulder, his eyes tracing the subtle lines in his walnut headboard as he pulled you closer until he could feel the brush of your belly along the planes of his abdomen.

The feel of you against him, the slide of your fingers in his hair and along his back, your words sifting into his ears and pulling that odd feeling in his chest that he had spent months trying to figure out front and center, it was all he needed in that moment. He blinked blearily against the cool air of his bedroom, his blonde lashes wet and his head finally beginning to calm down for the first time in weeks.

[beautifulpersonpeach]

what do you think will happen to bts after the hybe fiasco? I've seen they are kinda not liked by the gp as much anymore but I am not korean so I can only observe from afar. Karmys scared me when they started talking about how people were asking them about cult rumors and sajaegi allegations in person. Do you think they company will ask of bts to release something that is a bit generic, easy to listen to make sure that ot7 reunion is successful? yk similar how they mentioned they came to an agreement with the company for release the English songs (I hope I have my facts correct). Do you think bts members will feel like they can't trust the company anymore? obviously you're not in their heads but is there something that could tell you this could change their relationship with company? Solo stans as always have been using every piece of information to frame it as it suits them, but the comment about competition from mhj and bsh involvement made me think about all those times people complained about how x member didn't get this or that in comparison to this x member or this x group. what do you think? I hope this isn't too long or too boring to answer lol

***

"what do you think will happen to bts after the hybe fiasco?"

BTS is more than fine. The sentiment in Korea towards BTS is neutral to positive - that's how it was before this mess started and that's how it still is. Regardless of all the nonsense happening at HYBE, regardless of the sajaegi claims and the omnipresent latent animosity towards BTS from other industry players given BTS's position as the top group, BTS is still mostly removed from this mess and are viewed in a neutral way mostly. They also get added bonus points from Korean gp for actually completing their military service right now.

In terms of HYBE's treatment of the group, after the HYBE fiasco Bang PD is even more dependent on BTS than before, so he has no choice but to spare no expense on the group (even if it gives sub-par quality results, and this is likely after what Min Heejin has revealed about the compensation policy at HYBE).

"Do you think they company will ask of bts to release something that is a bit generic, easy to listen to make sure that ot7 reunion is successful? yk similar how they mentioned they came to an agreement with the company for release the English songs (I hope I have my facts correct)."

It's unfortunate, but yeah I expect at least a couple main tracks like this especially after everything MHJ has revealed about Bang PD's approach. Of course, it will yield only positive results for BTS given ARMY will throw their full weight behind it as will Bang PD, but yeah it's safe to expect something like the Scooter-sourced songs... unless the members themselves take more direct control of the sound direction on the album from Bang PD.

"Do you think bts members will feel like they can't trust the company anymore?"

BTS re-signed with HYBE and as the members are adults, I feel they have reason to think they are able to get what they want out of their arrangement with HYBE, at least for the next 7 years. As I keep saying, whatever we see from the outside, I believe the members have more access to information that directly impacts them than any of us do, and they are ultimately responsible for their own choices.

This conflict with Min Heejin actually has benefitted the members, in my opinion, because:

It's actually increased the pressure on HYBE to secure the members' satisfaction.

It's revealed that yes, Bang Sihyuk has a dubious management style and it's likely only BTS's acclaim (and his perceived credit for it) that keeps his ill-natured tendencies in check.

Because of Min Heejin's revelations about how HYBE actually runs, there is more credibility to complaints about misaligned support for some individual members even if due to incompetence, and so I feel HYBE is extra-pressured to prove her assertions wrong. See what's happening with Fromis_9's August comeback for example.

Yes, it's possible the grumblings about Jimin's rollout under BigHit, speculation for why Taehyung worked with ADOR for his rollout etc, take on a different light after her assertions.

To reiterate, according to Min Heejin,

Sub-divisions within HYBE are badly managed because piss poor quality and minimum-level effort is highly rewarded so long as the staff pays lip service to Bang Sihyuk. Even when the idols themselves are directly harmed as a result.

This corporate environment has impacted everything from A&R / song sourcing, to merch quality, to brand collaborations, to album promotions, to video / visual production and styling, to performance scheduling. Among other things.

HYBE demands that she use their resources even if she contends they are of poor quality and overpriced (which HYBE often transfers directly to the consumers/fans), and will negatively affect the artists.

Her constant resistance against this corporate environment in HYBE and against the culture of sycophancy towards Bang Sihyuk since 2022, was one of her first sources of corporate struggle with HYBE.

Bang Sihyuk aims to gain more direct control over every successful initiative in HYBE, to gain credit and maintain the perception of 'the man who conquered the West'. When NewJeans beat his expectations for the group to fail, he aimed to gain more control at ADOR in 2023 to which she refused.

MHJ claims that when Bang Sihyuk cannot get his way, he becomes vengeful, vindictive, and obsessive, and this was the source of her continued deteriorating relations with both Park Jiwon and Bang Sihyuk.

Sources are her whistleblower report, her first press conference, and her final letter before the injunction results were announced.

There's more, but the implications of just these six assertions from Min Heejin are pretty damning. International ARMYs and other HYBE fandoms likely will never clue into this because they are too busy burning the witch at the stake, but a lot of Korean fans are closely watching how HYBE treats the members' projects from here on out.

My guess is when BTS comes back, the pressure is on HYBE to dispel this impression. Which can only be positive for BTS.

[circeyoru]

Circe Circe look at this Alastor theory

https://www.tumblr.com/delightfulsweettragedy/751199425866694657/guys-hear-me-the-fuck-out?source=share

This might be the first time someone tells me to do theory reads. So before we get into it, definitely mention the writer and contributor of this theory @delightfulsweettragedy (sorry, if this is sudden). I mean no ill will or disrespect, I'm merely commenting my thoughts and understanding to the Hazbin world. You guys are free to agree or disagree or just okay this.

This theory basically names who could possibly own Alastor's soul. Please read that before this. Thanks! It's good to support the original poster.

Okie~ Let's go~!

Naturally, forgetting the fanfics and unintentional inserting of theories into the various stories all around fandom, Alastor's soul is owned by someone, and the owner could be someone already introduced, subtly appeared, or not at all.

I'm aware of the various theories that name Lilith or Eve or the Root of Evil (an unconfirmed character) or Zestial or even Niffty as the possible owner of Alastor's soul. But I don't go with any cause Season 1 of Hazbin Hotel is just too short and rushed for any concrete information and backstory to be revealed in detail. They are interesting and sometimes convincing theories, but at the end of the day, it's all theories and not canon.

With this one, it's a bit far-fetch and with some loopholes. I'm still on the side of reading and knowing, but not believing.

(1) Eyes.

I'm assuming the eye theory is the one about how red means owning souls? So like making deals? Similar to Overlords and Sinners basically. But here's the thing. This is Hell and red is quite a common colour. I think it matches the association with intimidation too?? Well, let's look at the Overlords who are the prime example for owning souls.

We don't have much background lore on them and I'm seriously wondering about Rosie cause some say she never died and stuff. Off track. Okay, so not all of them have red eyes. I'll list who does; Alastor, Vox, Valentino, Velvette, and Carmilla. Who doesn't? Rosie, Zestial, Zeezi, and the flaming skull with two hook-like antlers. BUT, they are all Overlords and own souls.

So? Red eyes doesn't exactly mean the ability to own souls.

(2) Who can own souls? And how?

Hellborns are supposedly soulless, so when they die, they just die. Unlike Sinners who would respawn with time. Unless it's angelic steel then game over, again. But hey, check back to Episode 7, who did Charlie say when Alastor was making a deal with her?

[Charlie: "You want my soul?"]

Surely, Charlie's a hellborn, but she has a soul? Maybe Charlie was in Lilith and growing before turning into a demon and being thrown into Hell. Maybe it has to do with the fact that Lucifer was a fallen angel. Maybe Lucifer and Lilith were the exceptions. We don't know. All we do is that Charlie has a soul.

Overlords deal with souls, we know that it's be contracts signed between individuals. But that might not be the only way. What if, an Overlord can forcefully take a soul?

I took this from Hazbin's wiki on Overlords. [In "Hello Rosie!", it was implied that an Overlord could own a soul by taking them without a deal or contract if they choose to do so. This was implied based on Vaggie's reaction...] Continue to read on the site.

This is a pageturner because if Overlords, as a higher rank of Sinners, can take souls, who's to say even more powerful ones can't? Sinners are restricted to the Pride Ring, not hellborns. So what if a powerful hellborn travels to Pride and attempts to take a weaker soul? Overlords, like Alastor, would think of them as no one but a foolish challenge cause they are more powerful than Sinners. Idk, cause Overlords might or might not have info on hellborns.

So this theory might be right, even when he doesn't have a soul, he could take and own one.

(3) Alastor's actions

It's confusing to say the least about Alastor's motivation and reason for his helpfulness. In the pilot, he says he's here cause of the entertainment and we do see him taking interest when Charlie was on the air with her hotel pitch. Later on in Season 1, we see Alastor's composure being threatened by the mere mention that was on a leash and it turns out to be a right at the end of the season.

Whether or not Alastor's there cause of the/a plan or his own amusement or trying to get a safe haven or something else, we don't know or we're not sure enough to say so. At least, it is for me when you think about it deeply.

All in all, theories are fun to think and debate on. But still, it's not canon until proven. You know, like Vaggie being a fallen angel? And who knows, maybe this theory is pointing us in a direction.

[heckmate]

I was recently playing Knock-Knock through again after not having played it for several years, and one of the things that stood out to me was this song that played on the radio:

(Excuse the screen recording, I can’t upload audio not from Spotify on mobile)

And it stopped me in my tracks because it sounded so different and out of place, I suppose, and then I wanted to find the source of the song, but upon googling the lyrics I found nothing… so I forgot about it. Until tonight. And I’m 99% sure that I found the source of the song

I wanted to see how far I could get just by Shazamming the song, and this was actually the best lead I got

Shazam brought up a band called People Like Us, and so I tried to look the song up on Spotify but couldn’t find it… however, after sifting through all the Kelly clarkson stuff, I did manage to find a band on Spotify called People Like Us:

Upon listening to their audio, I found that the style of music sounded similar to the in-game one. Well, I researched the band a bit more, and found that the person behind it is called Vicki Bennett. I still couldn’t find any song by Bennett or People Like Us called People Like You though… :(

But I felt like I was close, so I decided to do something that I should’ve done at the beginning: I looked up Knock-Knock’s credits, searched Bennett’s name, and sure enough

Unless this is some grand coincidence and People Like Us produced a different audio for Knock-Knock, I think they can be credited for that audio clip that amazed me so much :D

My outreach isn’t too big here, but if you’re inclined to support People Like Us after reading this, I will include their Indiegogo link in a comment, since Tumblr isn’t letting me paste it in this post 🥲

[carriesthewind]

Oh my god, I think I just skimmed two entire blog posts ostensibly about Controlled Digital Lending through the lens of Hachette, but which failed, at any point, to mention the actions of IA that lead to the filing of the complaint in Hachette. If you put together a beautiful argument in favor of CDL, it kind of destroys itself if you hinge a large chunk of it on the proposition that no, it really is one-to-one owned to loaned and it is *impossible* for it to be otherwise!*

*Trial advocacy tip 1: don't ignore your bad facts.

(It also claims that "IA is a library by every definition." Which. First: lol, piss off.** But second, its citation for this is 1) an argument by a small handful of university libraries that fails to provide evidence that it even meets the complete definition of a library that they themselves proffer*** and 2) an article from 2007 stating that California recognized it as a library...for the purposes of allowing it to apply for federal grant programs administered by CA...(apparently) under an exception for "other special library"****....an exception which it seems may no longer exist.)

**Trial advocacy tip 2: Don't comically overstate your argument.

***Most notably, one of the listed characteristics of a library is that it "offer[s] targeted services and programs." They do not offer any evidence that comes even close to meeting that prong of the definition.

****Caveat that this is an unverified comment from an old blog, but the information provided matches the controlling guidelines from 2007. (And also the only other source for the IA's "accreditation" is a post on the IA's blog and a 15+ year old post from a local paper that cites wikipedia. So I don't feel the need to track down more reliable sources unless the IA provides them first.)

[minimag1c]

Day 6 of Radioapple trick or treat and my favorite so far!

The entity fell in love with a Twink!

Day 6 ----->ᵈᵉᵛⁱˡ ʷᵒʳˢʰⁱᵖ/ˢᵃᶜʳⁱᶠⁱᶜᵉ

𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐧 ✏ 𝐃𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩

Here's my favorite prompt so far because I mixed it with Ouija board yipeeee!!

Anyway spiritual/mystic Alastor with Rosie and Mimzy trying to find out what kind of entity is haunting an abandoned underground factory that is somehow below the ground because I've watched a video about it and wanted to write something about it am I right

Also Vaggie tags along because she's so fucking underrated and I love her

Surprisingly there isn't really a tw or whatsoever just supernatural or horror stuff probably and that's it lol

Also

It's rushed

Oopsie daisy I suppose

•• <<────≪•◦⚜◦•≫────>> ••

"So is it the place?" Vaggie asked, looking at her phone before looking forward, a flashlight in her other free hand while Rosie stood next to her, putting her hands on her hips while contemplating the view.

"Apparently? I was not even really sure myself but Carmilla was the one who told me that this area was where the townspeople had the most of manifestations and paranormals activities that occurred."

Someone next to Rosie hummed, a shorter and chubbier woman, who looked at the said place with disdain.

"It may be a spot where some shits happened but still, why did it has to be so goddamn ugly." Mimzy complained as Alastor butted in, a small faint smile on his face.

"Well. Those kind of places were never meant to be really pretty in the first place" he explained. Vaggie shrugged.

"Unless if it's some shitty fancy ass buildings like castles or manors."

"Even those are creeepy-" Rosie shuddered but then Alastor interjected

"Bleh! Who cares?? We were called here for a reason. Let's see what is it all about!" The only man of the group said as Rosie nodded thoughtfully, following her queer platonic lover's enthusiasm.

The four carefully slid and climbed down the muddy and slippery hill where the abandoned toy factory was. This place was pretty recent one if they have to be honest about their experience as paranormal investigators and mystics, only being active since the 19th century unlike the old medieval castle on the coast or the mysterious hut like house that was in the middle of the forest. Still, being recent didn't meant activities wouldn't be that much. In case, it was the opposite because it was freshly new thus more prominent energies.

And it was already the case when Alastor felt something brushing his right shoulder.

Instinctively, the man turned his head, not scared but more curious as Rosie immediately stopped her tracks and so did the two others.

Rosie was more concerned however.

"Are you okay Al?" She asked cautiously as Alastor shook his head slightly, blinking a few times before shrugging nonchalantly.

"It's fine. Just felt something going past me." He admitted. Mimzy couldn't help but groan out, complaining again.

"Great. We've barely entered in and we're already having weirdos pouncing around" she said as Vaggie rolled her eye although it was more of amusement.

"And we should probably keep our mouth shut if we don't want more unwanted manifestations." The brown haired woman responded as they dived deeper into the unknown.

•• <<────≪•◦⚜◦•≫────>> ••

The whole place was actually a giant cave, with a few constructions made out of old iron using the walls as a support, mushrooms sprouting almost all around with mold. There were no source of lights or whatsoever except the faint white rays of each flashlights on. The smell was a weird mix of moss, humidity and runned up gasoline that instantly flared up in the nostrils.

"Well, without no doubt I can say that this place was completely abandoned." Rosie commented, making sure she wouldn't step on anything that was suspicious even if she wore combat boots.

"Do you feel anything Vaggie?" Alastor asked to the latina who thought for a fraction of second before shaking her head.

"Nothing. Neither something really that energy sucking or another presence aside from you three. Just... The void."

She then frowned slightly as Alastor was the only one who could notice it as she muttered something under her breath.

"A weird void though. As if there's something in this nothing. Weird."

The group continued their exploration, as Alastor couldn't help but cling furthermore on the ouija board in his side bag.

•• <<────≪•◦⚜◦•≫────>> ••

"Do you think they had any possession left here or not?" Mimzy asked, helping Rosie to go through a narrow entrance to a completely ruined shack or what seemed to be a garage judging from the destroyed cars and other engines that lingered like corpses on the ground and at the corners.

"I don't know. It's almost as if the whole place was ran over and they didn't had time to actually take everything they had." Vaggie suggested, feeling a bit weirded out by the fact that barely a few milliseconds ago, this room was okay ish.

But when the group actually arrived, something heavy was put on her before suddenly disappeared.

Rosie also seemed to notice this as a rare frown was visible on her face, looking around while dusting away the dirt on her clothes.

"There's something wrong with this room."

"Wrong like what dear?" Alastor piped in, going closer.

Despite being a mystic too, the man was lean about visions rather feeling energies which was complementary with Rosie who was more of an empathic and developed an hypersensitivity with what surrounded her. Vaggie was kin on the two sides and could communicate with spirits while Mimzy, despite her lack of skills in the spiritual field, was the down to Earth friends the trio needed as to not go entirely crazy.

The latina nodded at Rosie's statement.

"There's a weird energy going around here. I don't even know how to describe it. It's as if... It's apart from what really happened in this room." Vaggie tried to explain, even shivering slightly.

Alastor and Mimzy looked at each other, feeling concerned until the shorter woman shrugged.

"Well? What are you waiting for? Let's pull up the board at this rate, we didn't had that much activities until now."

•• <<────≪•◦⚜◦•≫────>> ••

"Hello whoever owns or is in this place-" Vaggie started, crouching on the floor with Rosie and Alastor, hesitant before she continued, knowing there was no turning back as her tone was less scared however more apprehensive.

"-I will introduce myself to you either way. My name is Vaggie and these are my friends: we have Alastor, his queer platonic partner Rosie and Mimzy. Before we begin, I may want to add that we do not mean no harm nor cause disturbance. We just want to communicate with you and be able to reach you in anyway, if you want obviously but aside, if you want to talk with us you may not give us troubles nor hurt us and less forbid us to escape."

She stopped slightly on her explication, biting her lips in slight tense but Rosie nodded, smiling softly as to encourage the other woman to continue. After all small pause, Vaggie continued, her barely touching finger on the board shaking slightly.

"This ouija board is simple: there are letters, numbers alongside with a "yes" and a "no". Depending on our question, you may move the indicator here according to the answer you will communicate. Again, thank you for your patience and we will now ask a first question."

After a few seconds of silence, Alastor spoke up, his tone trying to be affirmative.

"First thing first: Are you with us right now?"

At first, there was nothing until, slowly and actually very slowly, the indicator started to move to the yes, even barely reaching it. The three made sure their fingers wouldn't touch the small instrument.

"Wait I have question for y'all." Mimzy suddenly hushered, probably as to not startle the entity, looking around in discomfort. "If the person- or whatever- actually says no, then isn't that just expose the fact that it's still there?"

"When it says no, it doesn't necessarily means it's an entity." Vaggie whispered back as Rosie continued, careful with her words.

"There are a lot of various energies going around especially in places like this. Other types then respond instead of the the one we actually want to find.

Mimzy just hummed, still sensing something fishy in the whole garage.

When she realized her friend didn't had anymore question, Rosie piped in, her tone gentle as possible.

"Thank you for response. Now, it may seems like a personal question, but what is your name mon cher?"

Again, a pause before the indicator slid shakily to the letter L.

Alastor raised an eyebrow, seeing that the small pod didn't seemed to move.

"L?"

"Maybe it doesn't really want to tell its name?" Mimzy asked, mirroring Alastor's confused expression.

Rosie was a bit disappointed however, before she could thank the shy entity again, it sudden slid fastly to another letter that even Vaggie was taken aback by the sudden determination.

U.

".. Lu?" She asked before the white indicator moved again, now its movements were more fluid as even Mimzy even found herself widening her eyes at the sudden shift.

C.

I.

L U C I.

Then it was calmer now... Except they heard a loud booming sound not from afar but actually outside of the underground garage. The four all turned their head at it before Mimzy suddenly froze, her face showing dread.

Alastor felt his heart suddenly beat rapidly, feeling something conflicting inside before the shorter woman breathed out in an almost exhaustion, her eyes blinking rapidly.

"Something was trying to touch me all around my body. It had an actual weight, not wind nor some other stuff like that." She said, putting her hand on her quickly beating heart.

Vaggie frowned at that before she sighed, looking at Alastor and Rosie before she nodded.

"Alright. Thank you so much for your answers Luci. I hope we didn't disturbed you that much and so we say you goodbye. Have a good rest." She said the last part awkwardly before feeling that the board was calmer again as she removed her hand from it.

Rosie and Alastor obviously did the same thing and, despite the familiar flash of wind who was now on his back and neck coming back, they had a singular thought. Not really that motivating but as investigators, it was a question of matters.

Time to see where this sound was.

•• <<────≪•◦⚜◦•≫────>> ••

"I think it was around here-?" Rosie suggested, looking up and down at the giant yet completely dark part of the cave, the rays of her flashlight not even being able to reach the top.

The rest of the small group followed her, making sure they wouldn't step on a rusty steel nor a destroyed piece of metal that was thrown out like scrap.

Alastor, specifically, was feeling unwell but not, fortunately, in a physical sense.

More like it was as if something was constantly trying to push his insides, pressing his organs with iron, with barely enough space to make him breathe or walk.

Mimzy, who walked next to him, couldn't help but notice her friend's sudden shift of behavior. He was way less energetic and more sluggish, keeping a pace that made the shorter woman judge it was the fastest he could go without fainting. Fuck, even his look seemed distant almost glazed as he blinked profusely.

"Alastor man, you good there?" Her voice rang out, an unusual worried tone in her words.

That seemed to alert both Rosie and Vaggie who stopped on their tracks. Now the three women looked at the man, Rosie being the one to speak up after a small moment, frowning deeper.

"Al, mon cher do you want a break? We can stop for a while if it's too much for you."

Said Alastor immediately snapped from his dizzy trance as he looked around, a drop of sweat running down his forehead before he slowly and shakily nodded his head.

"I-I think I'll sit down a bit."

Vaggie nodded, solemn before she helped Mimzy to make their tall friend lay a bit on what they judged the least infected rock by mushrooms, moss or mold. Alastor took a deep breath, Rosie kept trying to study around the zone, feeling even more frustrated.

"Clearly there's something wrong but I can't even put my finger on where-!" She whispered yelled, making sure to not make the cavern shake because of her voice.

"I feel something yet I can't put my finger where." Vaggie added, leading her ear for any signs or suspicious sounds.

"Don't want to bother the- whatever they are- the entity-?" Mimzy started before she continued, her tone more hushered and careful. "Luci. When they stopped talking with us, we had more manifestations-"

As the three women debated on a few theories or observations there and there, Alastor felt a bit better.

Still, the weightening was still persistent but it was a tad better than just a few minutes ago.

"-But there are chances that Luci is probably a trapped entity, meaning they can't go outside the gar-"

Vaggie didn't had time to finish what she was trying to say that a quite loud sound of water running down, just next to the gargantuan cavern.

The group froze in place, all wide eyes.

"... It can't be a coincidence that the water decided to act up when we mentioned their name." Rosie piped in, gripping her flashlight furthermore.

"What?" Mimzy inquired, titling her head as she raised an eyebrow. "Luci-?"

Another suspicious sound echoed, almost startling the latter as Vaggie shivered.

"Maybe Lu- they are not that restricted as we think"

"I can try and find them" Alastor suddenly spoke, Rosie widening her eyes at the suggestion before she got even more worried.

"Alastor, mon cher, don't tell me you're gonna-"

"-try and see or communicate with them."

Everyone went silent for a moment until Mimzy interjected, her tone unsure and wary, feeling tense for her friend.

"Alastor, you're still recovering and not able to really do severe efforts. Are you even sure you want to do that-?"

The concerned man took a small breath as to calm down the chaos that lingered on his energies before he nodded slightly.

"Better try than be on suspension. I'll try."

"In that case then I'll go with you" Vaggie suggested, getting up, putting her hands on her hips as a determined look was on her face.

"If this ever got out of hand, we still need a backup."

Alastor, at first, was a bit taken aback but, after hindsight, judged it wise.

It wasn't everyday after all he would communicate with something that seemed to have the same signs close to a demon.

What a strange sparring demon though.

•• <<────≪•◦⚜◦•≫────>> ••

"Holy-" Vaggie breathed out in disbelief and almost dread as her own flashlight pointed at the spot she was staring as Alastor stood next to her, his eyes wide as a plate.

"... Holy shit indeed." He finished after her, viewing the same sight as her.

The stone wall in front of them were just as enormous and imposingly gran like the others only the crater of water that was just a stew of chemicals or infected plants made it noticeable...

... And the gooey black liquid that was running down from the very top of the carven to the bottom, on the dirty burned down floor and almost below the two's feet.

It was still running and fresh. That's what struck them the most.

"What the fuck is that-?" Vaggie whispered yelled as she couldn't help herself but crouch down a bit, inspecting more the substance, curious but then she just stopped at getting closer, not really wanting to meddle herself with it.

Alastor also got closer but not that unlike Vaggie as he observed, cautious.

It wasn't like mud for the texture was smoother but not gasoline nor oil leaking from whatever holes or something similar in particular since the color was actually pitch black, not hue, nuance or anything else that would ressemble.

Then something else hit Alastor in his mind.

The gushy and oppressive feeling he had earlier.

It was gone but instead, the uncanny feeling was replacing with another variant of it, as if something or someone wanted to be able to reach him out or feel his own physical energy in any ways.

Just like the two time he felt wind brushing past him.

"This zone tastes weird."

"How so?" Alastor inquired. Vaggie frowned furthermore.

"I don't even know how to describe it precisely or in- normal words let's say to be honest. It's like- it's obvious something is here and it's not even supposed to be here. And yet, it's... Sweet. Almost a sugary scent." She then grumbled, massaging her forehead. "I know it's a very weird thing to say especially out of context but- I don't know!"

Alastor looked at her, patient. Honestly, she had a point. In that specific spot, who wasn't even not that far away from Rosie and Mimzy who were just a few meters away, the two weren't alone. However, unlike the usual disturbed energy or the unsatisfied weeping ghost who couldn't find an afterlife, it was more like an entity that... Was just there. Meaning no harm or whatsoever. The thing was just there, not really existing literacy speaking but you get it.

"Do you still want to try and communicate with them or not? We can still go back" Vaggie warned one last time, wanting to make sure Alastor would scale his choices well.

This time, however, he didn't hesitated that much anymore as he nodded.

Vaggie sighed a bit before backing away, giving the man space as he sat on the ground, barely touching the black liquid, crossing his legs before taking a deep breath and closing his eyes.

The last thing he could discern before completely dissociating was a vague red but small figure standing in front of him.

•• <<────≪•◦⚜◦•≫────>> ••

"D...e....d..r"

Alastor was already out of his body as he already felt another presence either behind on next to him. A new voice then rang out in his ears, completely unknown as he started to feel the warmth spreading out all over his body and the wind blowing almost all around.

"Hello?" He called out, moving slightly as to not startle whoever was with him.

Even if, judging by the sound and the tone of the blurred voice he could discern, they didn't seemed to be that sacred of him.

Well. He was lucky.

"I don't think I presented myself and I do apologize for that. My name is Alastor and I am here as a mediator. I just want to be able to communicate with whoever you are. I mean no harm nor cause disturbance here. If I am ever bothering you, I am deeply sorry and if are not willing to partake in I will not force you."

He took a small pause before he continued.

"However, we do engage each other with this, I have conditions. No harming or hurting either me or anyone in the underground."

Then Alastor stopped as he widened his eyes in surprise furthermore, seeing the bright although blurry orb just in front of him.

The entity's energy.

But it was weird yet they didn't seemed to be angry.

Without that much hesitation, he got closer to it and then the word that he vaguely heard a few moments ago was clearer now.

"Oh! Chadine!"

When he cleared his internal vision more, in front of him stood a short man, blonde hair and pale skin, almost similar to Mimzy. He was smiling brightly at Alastor, even slightly bouncing before waving at the taller.

"Hello!" He greeted as Alastor have founded himself dumbfounded.

"Uhm- hi-?" He reculantly greeted back while the other man smiled even more. Even the taller man felt a bit unnerved by this mysterious person's behavior, finding his smile a bit too much.

And the fact that this is the in quote demonic entity they have found down here-? How the fuck-

"Your hair."

Alastor couldn't help but be startled by the sudden words spoken by the individual.

"... Excuse me-?"

"You hair!" The blonde man insisted, pointing at the brunette's head before he added, with tone sweeter. "Really pretty."

Oooookay. Alastor wouldn't lie if it was probably getting a bit creepy.

"Uh thanks- I guess?" He awkwardly thanked as the other beamed furthermore.

"Luci." He spoke again pointing at himself before Alastor could connect the dots as his heart almost gave up.

"You're- you're Luci-"

"-fer."

"What?"

"Lucifer."

He pointed at himself, his smile going softer as to not startle the human.

"Name is Lucifer. You Alastor?" He asked, curious.

Without paying that much mind to the full name revealed, Alastor didn't say a word before he nodded, still wary but less tense than a few moments ago. Lucifer seemed to get that the taller man was still suspicious of him. The entity couldn't help but chuckles just slightly, raising his hands out.

"Not harm. Only curious." He tried to reassure which, unfortunately, wasn't that helpful that Alastor could only grasp a few comprehensive words there and there who weren't clear enough without context. The devil then continued, his tone slower as to articulate.

"Me no harm. I'm here wondering. Like new things. No hurt" Lucifer tried to explain as Alastor stared at him, still disoriented and deadpan.

However, the entity suddenly frowned as he looked at the human and the latter almost got scared, thinking that it- he would change his mind.

"You. Hurt. You not okay." Lucifer then brought as Alastor frowned in turn.

"Wait what do you mean? I'm fine." He argued back but Lucifer vividly shook his head.

"You sick. Ill. Need rest." He insisted as Alastor couldn't help but no trusting even more whoever this Lucifer was.

"I can assure I am not. Only... Tired."

But Lucifer wasn't having it.

"Like you but you need aid. Not tired. Burning hot. Shaking. Not feeling well." The blonde was persistent before shrugging, his tone less cheery although it was more caring. "Need to stop. Tell your friends. Will follow you. Make sure you're fine"

Alastor blinked rapidly for a few seconds before he realized what Lucifer meant as he was filled with dread.

"Wait Lucifer-!"

But just like that everything was gone and he almost choked out on his saliva when he came back on the physical world.

•• <<────≪•◦⚜◦•≫────>> ••

"Alastor! Are you okay??" Vaggie's worried voice rang out as the concerned one almost collapsed on the disgustingly filthy concrete ground, not even caring that the black gooey liquid was starting to stick on his hands and pants as he put an hand on his chest to calm down his fast beating heart.

"Alastor? Al?" Vaggie kept asking, taking the man's shoulders firmly as her frown deepen. "Alastor look at me." She asked firmly. "Alastor please-"

"I-I'm fine Vaggie I'm fine-" he finally managed to croak out after what felt like an eternity, rubbing his face in tiredness and exhaustion.

Said Vaggie was still gripping onto him almost like for dear life but then loosened a bit as she sighed in relief. "Thanks Atzi you're still with us. What happened? You seemed really shaken up." She inquired, her tone still concerned. Alastor shook his head.

"It's not- well-" he groaned out in frustration before he couldn't just keep it for himself. "I was able to be in contact with them- well him in that case"

Vaggie perked up at the statement.

"Luci??"

"Actually Luci is not his full name. It's almost like a nickname let's say. His name is Lucifer-"

"Guys."

Mimzy's voice suddenly rang out as the two immediately snapped their heads at it, seeing the short woman with Rosie, going towards them. Vaggie realized that the two didn't seemed that happy and her heart sped up when Rosie spoke up, her tone unusually unsure.

"Alastor? Mon cher, are you alright?"

"I'm fine dear." The man quickly responded before he swiftly changed the subject. "What happened to you twẞo? I thought you would stay next to the garage?" He asked.

The two concerned women looked at each other, unsure if they should share to the other duo what they have found.

But then again, their goals were to inspect and sees what kind of entities was floating around this uncanny place thus it was a crucial part of their findings.

Mimzy took out her phone as she searched for something in her gallery. Meanwhile Rosie explained, feeling even oppressed than the first time they entered underground.

"Technically me and Mim were actually waiting for you two to finish the communication thing but then I felt an energy, not stronger than when we did the ouija board but it was still prominent, going past me as I heard a voice following it. Mimzy didn't seemed fazed but felt a sudden shift of atmosphere as we decided to follow whatever this was, preparing ourselves..."

"Alright I've found it." Mimzy interrupted as she landed her phone to Vaggie, knowing Alastor wasn't fond on her own, who brought the phone closer as to watch was she tried to show until she instantly backed away, her expression dreadful as she processed what she saw.

"Wh-what- what the fuck???"

Rosie only nodded.

"The voice and its energy was masculine. I don't know if it's linked with Luci but- whatever that specific spot in here-"

She said, showing to Alastor the photo of what seemed to be a bedroom who had a ruined altar dedicated to the half destroyed statue of a naked woman with goat esque attributes, numerous words written on the walls and candles scattered all around.

The man couldn't help but shiver.

"The liquid we have found splattered all around the altar was not blood, fortunately but we did found bones and it was rather a sticky muddy weird mix of black-"

"-Just like this one." Alastor finished, raising his now dirty hand soaked with the same substance as Mimzy was definitely taken aback by it. Vaggie continued after she judged the two didn't had anything else to say.

"Alastor was able to be in contact with the entity that resides here."

"So it was indeed just one who was responsible of all of this?" Rosie asked as Vaggie nodded, continuing.

"Luci is not his full name. It's Lucifer." Alastor added, surprisingly nonchalant as the group all fell silent, the new information keeping them on edge.

After a while, Mimzy was the first to speak up, her words completely betraying her need to leave this place as fast as possible.

"Well?? What are we waiting for? This place is haunted by a fucking demon. Let's just get out of here as possible."

The rest couldn't agree more.

•• <<────≪•◦⚜◦•≫────>> ••

After a few cleansing and procedures that would make sure they didn't forgot anything else , the four finally made it out of the underground factory. The exit they have found was way smaller than the spot where they entered but the ground wasn't as slippery as the other and, after dragging and crawling their bodies out of the dirt, they were all out, in the middle of afternoon as Mimzy grunted in pain upon having the sun flashing at her face after hours being inside something dark.

"Well at least it's not night. I hate going to a forest when it's completely devoid of lights." Rosie cheered up as Alastor nodded, agreeing with her while smiling at his queer platonic lover. Vaggie added.

"Yeah. Plus, we have more chances of getting lost when it's night."

"Ugh whatever. As long as we're out of this mad place I'm glad." Mimzy piped in before she smirked at the group. "Come on guys! Our tips is at Carmilla's house!"

Thus the shorter woman was the first to immediately lead the way, Vaggie shrugging and following her. Rosie carefully took Alastor's hand as she smiled at him before the two followed Mimzy, discussing other topics than what happened.

"Let's go guys!"

Alastor was about to bleat, feeling a sudden wave of stress coming back as his eyes widened in terror. Rosie didn't seemed to realize what was going on as she kept discussing with the others, smiling all the way.

And Alastor didn't know if he should bring it up the fact that he heard Lucifer's voice next to his ear, a sudden presence following close.

Shit-!

•• <<────≪•◦⚜◦•≫────>> ••

I didn't know if any of this shit made senses but I'm happy I wrote and finished this.

Anyway do you want it to be a small series or not? Because I would like to write about it too after the week will be finished and the following chapters/requests of my other stories!

See ya!

[30/10/2024]

(4806 words)

----

Wattpad version

Archive of our own version

[doyouknowthisjewishcharacter]

Info and Rules

So! Yet another "do you know this x" blog! Welcome!

Submissions are open! Just pop your suggestion in the ask box. You can also send in any questions or comments through the ask box too! Any questions or comments in the ask box will be screenshotted and posted anonymously unless you say otherwise. Please submit one character at a time! Anon is off, but I will post submissions anonymously unless someone says they want to be tagged in the poll. Also, I try to spread out polls of characters from the same fandom. So if you send in a couple characters from the same source, don’t worry if you see one posted but not the other! The other will probably be posted by next week!

In submissions, please list:

Character name

Media the character is from

Any other information or details you think are important (if it's a character where verification of their Jewish identity can't easily be found online, I ask that you provide information about how their Jewish identity is confirmed [e.g. "they had a bar/bat mitzvah", "they call themselves Jewish", "the creator said they were Jewish", etc.])

If you want to include a photo of the character in your submission that is helpful! (If you include an image ID with the photo, that would also be great!)

For grey areas, I'll judge on a case-by-case basis. Any extra information you can supply in these cases is super helpful!

Some examples of grey areas:

Character is from a fantasy world where Judaism doesn't exist, but is part of a religious or cultural group that is an in-world equivalent (such as the Wolf and the Woodsman where the Yehuli are a stand in for Jews)

Character's identity is in some way ambiguous and they may not consider themselves Jewish (an example might be Margret Simon or Leopold Bloom)

There are facts about the character that indicate they may be Jewish, but nothing explicitly confirms it (such as Miriam Mendelsohn from Turning Red who has an almost exclusively Jewish surname and common Jewish given name, but nothing else indicates a Jewish identity)

Some information about how the blog is organized below the cut!

I've created some tags to sort how a character's Jewish identity was confirmed! I thought it would be interesting to keep track of, so here we are! Some characters might have multiple of these tags if their Jewish identity was indicated in multiple ways.

So far, for common categories:

#chanukah mention

#b'nai mitzvah confirmation

#jewish wedding confirmation

#word of hashem (someone involved with the character like a writer has confirmed the character's Jewish identity outside of the media)

#jewish story premise (for when the Jewish identity is inherent to the story and not revealed in any way. For example, Tevye from Fiddler on the Roof.)

#other in-media confirmation (depending about how much I know about the character I might give a brief elaboration in the tags)

[gunsandspaceships]

Unbelievable

Looks like "notsolegal" English Literature Major @tragicfantasy-girl created another account yesterday to continue her smear campaign. And now she's pretending to be a legal expert. It is indeed a "Cut off one head, two more shall take its place" situation.

Dear @legalandnotease/@tragicfantasy-girl/@notthatwriterbuddha/@garykenobi/@EnglishLady15, you are not as smart as you think you are, and you are not a legal expert, which is quite obvious. And no, knowing legal terminology does not mean you are a “legal expert.” Also, if you think that your lies about me will not be refuted, you are delusional.

As for her accusation: @legalandnotease, if you were a real legal expert, you would know that Tumblr is a public space and blogs are not private. Anything you post is public and can be seen by another user unless you hide it from everyone. And users don't even have to read your blog to see what you or your friends are up to (in this case, talking about me behind my back and running a smear campaign). All I need to do is search the name of my blog. I also see what you and your friends write in your reblogs of my posts when you or your friends like or reblog them (OP gets notifications, you know).

And let's see what you are doing and what YOU started:

"Cyberstalking is the use of digital technology to track and harass someone. 

Cyberstalking behaviour can include:

constantly checking in on someone and trying to get their attention even when they make it clear that they are not interested" (you've been blocked here twice, meaning I'm not interested in you, but you still come back with your countless alternative accounts. You even create new ones, posing as a "legal expert", constantly checking my blog and posts that don't even mention you, and trying to get my attention by writing posts full of slander about me. The only reason I had to react on @seek--rest's posts is because YOU contacted the user to continue your thing. At the same time, I use open sources (yours and your friends' ports about me) to document your harassment for self-defense purposes.

"making repeated unwanted contact with someone by calling, emailing, texting, messaging, or asking inappropriate questions" (you make repeated unwanted contact with me using your alt accounts and mutuals. At the same time, I do not contact you or your friends. I only write posts on my own blog refuting your false accusations).

"repeatedly sending, posting or sharing unwanted offensive content, abusive comments, or false accusations to or about someone" (everything you, or your friends, post about me is "offensive content, abusive comments, or false accusations").

[dan-the-womans-blog]

Title: "Shadows of Sanctuary"

Triggers: typical twd violence, gore, blood, weapons, descriptions of fighting etc. I think thats it, comment if i missed any. First fanfic please be nice, i will write about probably anything unless i explicitly say i dont, thank you enjoy.

---

The sun hung low on the horizon, casting long shadows across the forest floor. The air was heavy with the scent of pine and the distant sound of birds settling for the night. You adjusted your grip on the crossbow, mirroring Daryl Dixon’s stance beside you.

"Stay close," he murmured, his voice a gravelly whisper that seemed to blend with the rustling leaves.

You nodded, eyes scanning the surroundings. The world had changed, and you had to change with it. Surviving in this post-apocalyptic landscape required vigilance, strength, and an unyielding spirit – all of which Daryl possessed in abundance.

The two of you moved silently through the underbrush, your steps carefully placed to avoid snapping twigs. It had been weeks since you joined the group at the Sanctuary, a community struggling to rebuild amidst the chaos. Daryl had taken you under his wing, teaching you how to hunt, track, and fight. You had grown to trust him implicitly.

Tonight, you were on a mission to gather supplies from an abandoned cabin a few miles out. The walk had been long and the weight of the world heavy on your shoulders. Daryl’s presence was a constant source of reassurance.

As the cabin came into view, a chill ran down your spine. The structure stood silent and eerie, partially obscured by creeping vines and the encroaching darkness. Daryl motioned for you to stay back as he approached the door, crossbow at the ready. He gave a curt nod, signaling you to follow once he deemed it safe.

Inside, the cabin was a testament to a time long past. Dust-covered furniture and broken windows painted a picture of a life abruptly halted. You began to search the shelves and drawers, hoping to find anything useful. Canned food, medicine, tools – anything that could help.

Daryl rummaged through the cabinets in the kitchen, his brow furrowed in concentration. The silence between you was comfortable, a shared understanding of the gravity of your task. Suddenly, a loud crash echoed from outside, sending your heart racing.

Daryl was at your side in an instant, crossbow aimed at the door. You drew your knife, the cold steel a comforting weight in your hand. The two of you moved as one, a seamless unit honed by countless encounters with danger.

Outside, a small group of walkers had been drawn by the noise. Their grotesque forms staggered towards the cabin, eyes vacant and hungry. Daryl fired, his bolt finding its mark with deadly precision. You followed his lead, slashing at the nearest walker with a swift, practiced motion.

The fight was over quickly, but the adrenaline lingered. You stood back-to-back with Daryl, breathing heavily. His hand found yours, a silent reassurance in the gathering dusk.

“Good job,” he muttered, his eyes scanning the treeline for any remaining threats.

“Thanks,” you replied, squeezing his hand briefly before letting go. “Let’s finish up and get out of here.”

As you resumed your search, the connection between you and Daryl felt stronger than ever. It was more than just survival – it was a bond forged in the fires of adversity, unspoken but deeply felt.

With your bags filled with whatever supplies you could find, you started the trek back to the Sanctuary. The journey was quiet, each of you lost in your thoughts. The forest seemed less menacing with Daryl by your side, his presence a constant source of strength.

When the gates of the Sanctuary finally came into view, relief washed over you. The sense of safety, however fleeting, was a precious commodity. As you entered the community, the weight of the day began to lift.

Daryl turned to you, his expression softer than usual. “You did good out there. Proud of you.”

A smile tugged at your lips. “Couldn’t have done it without you.”

He nodded, a rare smile ghosting across his features. “We’re in this together.”

In the shadowy twilight of the Sanctuary, you realized that your bond with Daryl was more than just a partnership. It was a lifeline, a beacon of hope in a world gone mad. And as long as you had each other, you knew you could face whatever came next.

[absolutebl]

Hii

Thank you for so much info and effort in your posts ✨

I have a question: which couples (main or not) feature men with facial hair?

Facial Hair in BL

OMG that is a so rare and I have never gotten this ask before.

I'm posting an answer but this is something I do not track, so I will need help. Keep an eye on the comments for the ones I missed.

BL's with facial hair

HIStory 2: Right or Wrong - this is an age gap romance and I suspect it was done, in part, to age up the protag, this is usually contrary to BL casting needs.

The Immeasurable (Taiwan), but that's a short.

I Feel You Linger in the Air, briefly and badly. Keep Thailand away from fake hair in general (their wig game is atrocious).

Present Perfect, but it's kinda for travel reasons.

Tonhon Chonlatee the sides. Man has it been a long time since I thought about that BL. (Did GMMTV let Mike have facial hair in 2gether too? I can't remember.)

Given's sides. Although nothing much happened with them.

Ossan's Love (SIGH) the love triangle

I feel like I have a memory of Earth, of EarthMix having fuzz on his face at some point. Seems like a sin since his angles are so good.

Our Days maybe?

The coach in the original Waterboyy? But do we want to remember (or even think about) that?

More?

Korea is mildly obsessed with jaw lines so I highly doubt we will ever get it from them, unless they go for a true BL historical. Even then it will be a side and they rarely do sides... so unlikely.

So far as I know, nothing from Vietnam. But one of the first Tein installments might have had something in an alt timeline.

Philippines is not unlikely. In fact, if I missed any major ones it's probably from there.

BL facial hair right now?

The sides in My Dear Gangster Oppa.

Upcoming Taiwanese BL VIP Only looks like is has a main with facial hair.

I mean there are some wisps on Jimmy in Last Twilight but do we call that facial hair or laziness?

Which should tell you this post is dated late 2023 and may not be updated after that date.

(source)

[yamayuandadu]

Besides the  Nihon Shoki , has Amatsu Mikaboshi been mentioned in other Japanese text? How well deserved is his reputation as 'Japanese Satan'?

No. It’s one of the most baffling monikers I can think of.

Anyway, in addition to the two variants presented in the Nihon Shoki Mikaboshi also appears in Sendai Kuji Hongi (Kujiki), but only in what’s essentially an abbreviated retelling of the Shoki episode. This is hard to treat as a fully independent attestation, though, since the early sections of this chronicle are a patchwork of quotations from Kojiki, Shoki and Kogo Shūi. For a crash course in its history see here.

Omika shrine enshrines Mikaboshi and has a local variant of the myth but it’s been pointed out to me it’s possible this ultimately is likely to go back to the Shoki too.

And needless to say, what little coverage of Mikaboshi is to be found in kokugaku writing amounts to just commenting on the Shoki.

It’s also worth noting so far I failed to find any evidence the Mikaboshi hot takes are older than the 1990s. In other words, utterly worthless. There doesn’t seem to be much interest from genuine researchers too. 

Kind of ironic Megaten might be the one modern work to actually portray him accurately. This topic is frankly the opposite of thrilling, so I’m fairly sure this is the last time I’ll talk about Mikaboshi for the foreseeable future unless someone will be able to track down the ur-source of the weird online hot takes.

[pluto-glow]

I threw together a quick thing for that Church lives au I was talking about the other day, just a possible scenario of the Reds and Blues meeting Alpha on Chorus.

I wrote this in one sitting not long after waking up, so sorry ahead of time for any mistakes.

(Writing under cut)

“Felix what does Alpha say about our chances here?” Kimball asked the mercenary.

“Alpha?” The orange sim trooper asked who has surprisingly come to a meeting for once. Caboose for one, wasn’t at the meeting this time.

“I was trying to keep him secret, but I can trust you guys to not go rat to Doyle and his goons. This, is Alpha.” And with that the hologram of an AI in light blue sim trooper armor flickered to life on Felix’s shoulder with a ‘sup?’

“Church?!” Tucker said in disbelief.

“No I’m not religious.” Said the AI.

“It can’t be- the EMP- we went back and looked for you- how-” Tucker just stammered.

“He was in range of the EMP with the rest of the AI- unless his body protected him, could it do that?” Simmons rambled on and theorized.

“Church? Like your old teammate? Felix why does your AI look like their old teammate?” Kimball asked, turning to Felix.

“Hey I know as much about this as you do!” Felix responded, throwing his hands up in defense.

“Guys are we really sure that that’s Church?” Grif asked in disbelief.

“Who the fuck is Church and why do you think I’m him? Do I look like a mother fucking ghost to you?” Alpha asked, raising his voice.

“Yep that’s Church.” Grif responded.

“We didn’t mention anything about ghosts.” Simmons pointed out.

“You said the guy was dead, if I was him what else would I be?” Alpha defended.

“The last thing Church said before the EMP was calling himself a ‘mother fucking ghost’.” Tucker added.

“I think we need to back track, I know grief is rough, but my AI isn’t your dead friend.” Felix said, chuckling a little but trying to sound sympathetic.

“Let’s just ask him something only Church would know.” Tucker suggested, still convinced.

“Why? He isn’t Church.” Felix responded, finally putting his foot down.

“Humor them Felix, then we can get back to the matter at hand.” Kimball ordered, stern but with some sympathy for the sim troopers in her voice.

“Fine. Ask away.” Felix responded, shaking his head and crossing his arms.

“What happened to Tucker after he got his sword?” Grif asked.

“Seriously dude?! There was better questions than that!” Tucker snapped at Grif, lightly shoving him.

“I don’t know?” Alpha responded.

“Just- take a guess? Like a Kimball said, humor us so we can get closure and we’ll get back to the meeting.” Simmons requested.

“I really don’t know! What do you expect me to do, pull something out of my ass like ‘have an alien baby who got kidnapped repeatedly’?!” Alpha fired back. The sim troopers were speechless. “I’m sorry you’re missing your former leader, but like I said, I don’t know-”

“No you were right.” Tucker finally spoke up.

“What?!” Alpha and Felix shouted at the same time.

“You’re kidding.” Kimball responded in disbelief.

“Yeah Tucker has an alien kid.” Grif responded.

“His name is Junior, he’s the coolest.” Tucker boasted like a proud dad.

“You’re fucking with us.” Felix insisted.

“Nope, he really did have an alien kid, just ask Caboose.” Simmons replied.

“Caboose isn’t the best source.” Felix defended. “I love the guy, but he isn’t.”

“He has the scars from where it bit him.” Grif explained casually.

“So- Tucker had an alien baby- and it bit Caboose hard enough to leave a scar?” Kimball asked, partially hoping this was a joke.

“Yeah, no one warned us that the baby alien-” Tucker started to explain before getting cut off.

“Funny joke guys, can we get on with the meeting?” Felix begged.

“All that blood was a pain in the ass to clean up.” Alpha commented. The sim troopers gave the AI another look. “What? Is my armor on funny?”

“We never mentioned the blood.” Tucker explained.

“Yeah you did, the thing bit Caboose because it fed on blood.” Alpha defended himself.

“They didn’t mention that.” Kimball mentioned before adding. “Alpha, how did you know that?”

“What?! No they mentioned it!” Alpha insisted.

“They didn’t, we’re in the same room I would have heard it too.” Kimball argued.

“No- they did- they must have, I couldn’t have known other wise- I- I-” Alpha started to stammer while his hologram started to glitch.

“Great, you guys broke my AI. I’m gonna go see if I can get him sorted out.” Felix said before directing at Alpha “Alpha, power down.”

“But-” Alpha started to argue.

“Now Alpha.” Felix commanded. The mercenary looked up to see the look the sim troopers and Kimball were giving him through their helmets so he explained “I don’t want him to get damaged or anything, he’s been a big help in this fight.” And with that he turned around the left the meeting room.

“Fine, I guess we’ll meet another time.”

“What do we tell Caboose?”

[periodiccompletionist]

50% of 118 is 59; 75% of 118 is 88.5; 90% of 118 is 106.2

Periodic Symbols are: H He Li Be B C N O F Ne Na Mg Al Si P S Cl Ar K Ca Sc Ti V Cr Mn Fe Co Ni Cu Zn Ga Ge As Se Br Kr Rb Sr Y Zr Nb Mo Tc Ru Rh Pd Ag Cd In Sn Sb Te I Xe Cs Ba La Hf Ta W Re Os Ir Pt Au Hg Tl Pb Bi Po At Rn Fr Ra Ac Rf Db Sg Bh Hs Mt Ds Rg Cn Nh Fl Mc Lv Ts Og Ce Pr Nd Pm Sm Eu Gd Tb Dy Ho Er Tm Yb Lu Th Pa U Np Pu Am Cm Bk Cf Es Fm Md No Lr

EDIT: As of November 14th 2023, I've decided to start keeping track of when a post does not include a single-letter element. Single-letter elements are, in order: H B C N O F P S K V Y I W U. These posts will be tagged with "missing single".

Spaces, capitalization, emojis, numbers, and punctuation will not be taken into account. For example, the term "lush🍃13garden" would still count for Mercury (Hg). Letters are the only thing that interrupt symbols.

Anything that isn't a tally is tagged with "not a tally", asks are tagged with "Arsenic Potassium Sulfur", and posts people tagged me in are tagged "Thanks for the tag!" (because "tag" and "tags" unfortunately can't be made with only elemental symbols. they could if we had G but we do not)

Some things to keep in mind:

I try to avoid any piece of moving media (video/gif) that has words in it of any kind. I'm already a transcriber as a job, and while I love it, I'm not gonna do it on my silly little side blog.

I usually don't analyze anything fandom-related, since nothing good can come from a fandom post leaving its circle. There are some exceptions I'll make, though.

I use a script to search for the symbols, but it can't read the words in images, so they have to be retyped into the script 100% manually. I'll most likely still do it, but just keep that in mind when sending in posts with lots of images.

I'll only analyze posts where it's very clear what order things are read in; charts, graphs, doodle pages, and other images with words all over the place won't be counted.

When it comes to URLs, I don't count them for the main tally unless they show up in a screenshot or as a tag somewhere in the thread; instead, the URLs of the users in the thread are listed out afterwards in their own separate tallies, with the elements listed in the order that they appear in the person's URL (this does not include URLs that only appear in screenshots/tags).

If you tag me in a post, I won't be counting anything that you added to the thread, though you will still be part of the secondary URL tally.

When I make a tally, I (usually) won't be adding my own comments, and on the occasions that I do, whatever is in my comment is not added to the final tally.

I tend to stray away from analyzing posts with other similar gimmick blogs already in them these days. This is because we all tend to influence each other's results- for example, if I analyzed a post where alphabetcompletionist tallied up all 26 letters, that would (potentially) artificially add Cd, Mn, and No to my tally. If I did end up doing this, I would be highlighting Cd, Mn, and No in a different color to denote that they would not have been there had I not reblogged from alphabetcompletionist directly.

My main account is not disclosed at this time; please do not try and find out what it is or I will block you. Another blog I run that is publicly known is @cantheykillmacbeth, if you just want to see more from me.

There might be times where I will accidentally reblog from someone other than the source of the post, or where I can't due to the source having been deactivated. If you go digging into the people that I reblog posts from, I am not responsible for what you see. If you blame me for what you saw from the people I happen to follow, then you shouldn't have gone looking in the first place. That's on you.

I will not be adding my gimmick to posts about serious topics. This is not because I do not care about these topics, but the exact opposite: I do not want the gimmick of this blog to be used to detract from anyone's message. These sorts of gimmicks are meant to add to the humor of a post, not act as a twisted punchline to a serious discussion. If you tag me in a serious post, you will be ignored (at best).

I don't care how you feel about gimmick blogs. I'm having fun and you can't change that. Seethe.

[sacredechoes]

I'm thinking of trying my hand at some GBA Fire Emblem ROM hacking, and I was wondering, what software/program/whatever was used to make Sacred Echoes?

My workflow for Sacred Echoes ended up being pretty similar to how the original devs built FE8 - meaning I was mostly working with source code and the compiler with various command-line utilities to convert my asset files into a data format the GBA could handle. When I started the project in mid-2018, I already had some formal education and work experience in programming, so I was past the steepest part of the learning curve for these specific tools.

Please note that my methods are NOT the methods I would recommend for a first project unless you're already familiar with the software development process and using command-line tools. I went into Sacred Echoes knowing I would need to write a bunch of custom code to modify the game mechanics beyond what the beginner tools at the time allowed me to do, so I chose the more complex path. If you're looking for an all-in-one graphical editor that's more friendly to beginners, FEBuilder is amazing and constantly updated with new functions. Whichever method you decide on using, the FE Universe forum and discord are full of resources, tutorials, and helpful people, and I wouldn't have been able to succeed without them. Best of luck on your project!

That said, here's all the technical details and links to all the tools I used:

Sacred Echoes was built using a combination of GNU make (a build system used to automatically detect and compile changes to source code in large projects) and Event Assembler, a utility primarily built for editing the GBA Fire Emblem games. Event Assembler is used with a method called the buildfile, which is essentially a fancy text file with instructions for Event Assembler to insert source files into a ROM and linking different parts together. This meant I used different tools for creating each type of data. Unlike with a ROM editor (such as FEBuilder), I wasn't constantly saving my changes to the same ROM file, but instead freshly building it each time I made a change and wanted to test. This meant that if I messed up (very common when writing custom code), I could just comment out the relevant code or instructions in the buildfile and rebuild from source, rather than try to pick through the ROM by hand to fix issues.

There were cases where I would need to view and edit raw binary data with a hex editor (usually to find a pointer to compressed graphics or a data table); I prefer HxD for that.

For graphics, use any program that can edit and save .PNG files (I used MS Paint and GIMP), and then a tool for game graphics called Usenti to put them into a format the GBA can read. If you need to find and rip graphics from a ROM to edit them, GBAGE is the gold standard (and comes built-in to FEBuilder).

Maps are built from the tileset graphics using a program called Tiled.

For music, the GBA uses MIDI sequences, so any audio program with MIDI support works fine for that. (I used Anvil Studio). The MIDI file is then converted to GBA with a utility called midi2agb.

For unit data and other large data structures, I used a spreadsheet in CSV format, which can be edited with a program like Excel or LibreOffice Calc.

For map events and loading units, the GBA FE games use a scripting language called Event Assembler Language, which just gets written in a raw .txt file. A good plaintext editor like Notepad++ or SublimeText can help keep track of language syntax and keywords.

For assembly code, it is also written in a text editor, and then compiled to bytecode with devkitARM. Most of it I wrote in raw ARM assembly language (which is specific to the GBA's CPU), but in more complex cases towards the end of the project I wrote the code in the C programming language and compiled it with devkitARM.

To keep track of my source files and changes, and to make backups and version control easier, I just used GitHub because I already had an account, but you could also use GitLab or Bitbucket instead.

Finally, I used some tools made by the FE hacking community specifically for automating some tasks and formatting data - most of these are Python scripts, but some can be downloaded as compiled executables. I used "lyn", "TMX2EA", "C2EA", TextProcess and ParseFile, and AnimationAssembler. Ask on the FEU discord or check the forum's toolbox tag.