#until i remembered that this is a fucking job and they failed miserably just to use a slur

[colorfuldream]

it’s kotoko the fictional character implying those things are moral failings rather than the staff. french translation team decided she seems like someone who would use slurs, the tls have never been identical but they often reinforce different parts of the same information, and she was very hateful in the original japanese

It's not. Those were never in the text. There's a difference between a character using slurs and the translation team adding a slur and questionable language out of nowhere.

They aren't the same information as both the Japanese and English version. They add subtext that were never there, confirm things that aren't confirmed for Kazui. Even the Mikoto part has its importance as she's mocking his self-pity schtick, not the fact that he's mentally ill.

Translation is a job. You're required to keep the original intention and meaning. I've seen localization do that better than what is supposed to be a direct translation.

[estrellami-1]

If I Should Stay

Part 1 | . . . | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

Steve slides down the wall as soon as he’s in the bathroom, hands going to his hair, gripping hard as he tries to remember how to breathe.

“Steve?” Robin says. “The door’s locked, it’s just us. What’s going on?”

“I don’t know if I can do this, Robs, I look at her and all I see is bullshit, and I know she’s got questions, and fuck, she probably thinks I’m cheating on her, which I’d never do, but she- and Jonathan-”

“Whoa,” Robin says, grabbing his hands. “Deep breaths, Steve-o, we’re gonna make it through this. I will absolutely flirt with Nancy if it helps on the accusation front. I told Eddie the kids like D&D, so hopefully…” she trails off, listening, and they both smirk when they hear Eddie, already in character. “That didn’t take long.”

“He’s a good guy,” Steve says. “And they’re good kids. Mostly.”

Robin snorts. “Mostly,” she agrees. “Listen, why don’t you break up with Nancy? Nothing else happens between the two of you, right? So we tell everyone what’s going on, you pull Nancy aside—I’ll come for moral support if you want—and explain what happens and tell her you can’t see her anymore.”

“You don’t think it’ll mess with the whole timeline thing?”

“Steve. Buddy. We’re telling a group of twelve-year-olds about something that happens four years in the future. The timeline’s well and truly fucked. You weren’t happy with her, not after Barb, right? Because the stories you told me painted you as being miserable.”

Steve sighs. Reclaims one of his hands to run it through his hair. “Yeah.”

“Okay then. And hey,” she says, moving to sit next to him. “Maybe if you break up with her now, you can do something about your crush on a certain someone.”

“Robs, c’mon,” he complains. “Even if I did, what happens after? When we go back to ‘87? Are there three years of memories I don’t have? Do we break up before you and I go back, and pick it up again four years later? And what if we fail and he dies anyways? What then, Robin?”

She leans her head on his shoulder with a sigh. “I dunno, Dingus. But hey, I’m here.”

He offers her a half-smile before laying his head on hers. “Yeah. You are.”

A knock on the door startles them. “Uh, Steve?” It’s Nancy. She sounds oddly apprehensive. “Eddie’s doing a great job at keeping the kids occupied, but we’d all like to know what’s going on.”

Steve sighs and pushes his face into Robin’s hair for a second before turning back to the door to answer. “Yeah. We’ll be right there.”

Nancy doesn’t answer. The first time around, it was something Steve had found endearing. She didn’t have time to waste on meaningless words. Now, it irks him a little bit.

“C’mon,” Robin says gently. “You can fall apart again after, but there’s no use catastrophizing over something that hasn’t happened yet.”

He quirks his mouth up at her. “Right, ‘cause you’ve never been dramatic a day in your life.”

She rolls her eyes. “I’m a band kid, Steven, of course I’m dramatic.” She begins to smirk. “Besides, not like you mind when it’s-”

“Okay,” he says, but they’re both smiling as he unlocks the door.

They go downstairs and he smiles at the sight of everyone on the couch, enraptured, as Eddie’s crouched on the coffee table, eyes wide, monologuing. Steve casts his eyes around, taking everyone in, and starts to frown. “Where’s El?”

Nancy’s the first to break out of the reverie. She looks around, brows furrowed, then slaps at Mike’s arm until he slaps back. “What?”

“Where’s El?”

“She’s right- oh.” Saucer-wide eyes turn to Nancy. “I don’t know.”

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[matchadobo]

KIDD; reconciliation

summary: name and kidd got into a fight, how does it turn out? wc: 3003 warnings: afab reader, nothing heavy, a hurt/comfort drabble, mentions of sex but not the actual thing, just kidd sorting out his emotionally constipated self, mentions of alcohol

"you want me to what?" you gripped the transponder snail with much pique, immensely angered by being jolted from your deep sleep. even from your voice over the snail, killer could feel your teeth grinding from his request. 

"name, i know this is a selfish request but-"

"oh it is, killer." you cut him off. "that bastard better rot out there, there's no way in hell i'm dragging his ass back here in the victoria if he drank his dumb ass stupid! it's all he ever does!" you were furious, all drowsiness leaving your body and was replaced by seething fury.

you hear him sigh over the phone. "i'm very drunk too, i-i didn't even understand what you said properly. we've already carried half of the crew and we can't carry kidd anymore." he laughed nervously, god help the snail you were holding because were you squeezing it so tight. 

there was a long silence before you grumbled and clicked the phone off. you pulled yourself out of your shared quarters, fists clenched and brows furrowed. stomping across the deck of victoria, fuming at the events unfolding and what you're about to do. 

they left the most inconvenient job for you, a man of his size amounts to almost several quantities of average weighing people. yet you're always the one who can help him haul his ass back to the ship no matter how blacked-out drunk he is. 

his weight is not even the problem, HE IS THE PROBLEM! you two had just gone through a heated argument, it's why you were left on the ship when they were having a party in the pub earlier. you were too pissed to join the crew and have to stomach seeing him. yet here you are, on your way to help the root of your bane. 

the fight was something trivial that exploded into something so stupidly vexing. you walked out and confined yourself to the sheets, hoping on sleeping it off successfully while he drags his lot to the local pub and drank his dumbass until he couldn't remember what happened before.

"name! you're her-"

"where's that fucking dumbass?" you wasted no time in greetings with the sober crewmates that awaited your arrival. what was once their cordial demeanor straightened up and led you stiffly to where your captain was.

he was sprawled on the wide span of the long, wooden seats of the pub, taking over one long table. his cheeks were flushed and his eyes were shut tight, the usual scowl settled on his face. his good arm was loosely gripping an empty bottle of scotch, his consumption evident from the drool at the corners of his mouth as loud snores escaped his painted lips. the other patrons were seemingly disturbed at the sight, the motherfucker acted like he owned the place!

you sighed a disappointing huff before knocking the chair he was laying on over with one swift kick and fell on his ass as a result. your crewmembers not knowing if they should snicker or run from the sight. 

"want your ass left by tomorrow morning or are you gonna pick yourself up and go back to the victoria, huh?!" you greeted, staring him down as you watch him mutter strings of curses while he tries sitting down. he fought off the dizziness in his vision and his heavy feeling as he placed a hand on his head to somewhat soothe the throbbing pain.

"can't sail away without a captain, short stack." he managed to bite back, looking up at you with the same bitter anger you glared at him for. 

"did all the alcohol flush out any reason out of your brain or do you not get the idea that i'll drag your dumbass back to the ship because you're too fucking drunk to do it yourself?"

"i didn't ask you to." he bitterly answered as he tried standing up but miserably failed. "i can do it myself. you go back to the ship."

you sucked in a breath of disbelief. "you're incorrigible, aren't you?!" you crossed your arms. "you can barely stand up, you fucking numbskull."

"i'll manage by my goddamn self," he announced through gritted teeth, finally standing up on his feet. wobbly to be exact. "i don't need your help-" 

just as he said it, you had caught him by your arms from his immediate fall. "if you'd just use your fucking brain than let it sit in that big head of yours, you wouldn't have to embarrass yourself like this." you snarked, getting a hold of his sinewy arms as you placed his flesh arm around your neck and settled a firm grip on his waist. "now shut the fuck up before i get the urge to catapult your ass to the seas and leave you."

"tch," he grinned, wobbling in his path together with you. "you wouldn't do that, butterfly." he teased as a burp followed his sentence afterward, unsteadily shifting his weight and subconsciously giving you a hard time. "you couldn't sit still when i was gone drinkin' so you came all the way here, aye? pretty fuckin' sweet of you."

your grip on him tightened, he grunted at how his nails dug into his skin and almost left scars that'll bleed. "f-fuckin' hell, can't take a joke now, huh?"

"if you think we're okay, then you're goddamn wrong." you hissed, dragging him in his feet firmly yet not enough to hurt him. "you're a fucking asshole i hope you know that."

"so i've been told." a grin tugged at his lips. "what do you say we put all that anger to somethin' more excitin', hm?" he tried pulling you closer by his arms in an attempt to arouse you but you beat him to it and squeezed a grunt out of him.

"if you think you can get away with apologizing by fucking, you're mistaken." you shut him down, "i'm tired of you treating me like a piece of ass."

kidd has been always getting away with apologizing by fucking you stupid. you end up forgetting what the hell you two were even fighting about or how deep your anger was for this redhead since his length does all the work for him. sorries turned into filthy insults and praises that turn you on more than it made you resent him. it's pathetic, really. the power he holds within you and your ardor for the control he reigns over you. he's a very bad man for you. not that you're shackled to leave him of course, nor the obligation of him as your captain convinces you to stay with him. you deeply detest how much you are willing to give than to lose him. oh how crazy he drives you.

you'd find yourself questioning your relationship with him, you detest how you always want to wake up next to him and find him clinging onto you. the softest look on his pale ass face as he peppered your skin with kisses in the mornings. you hate how your name sounds so good on his lips. you hate how he's always holding you close during cold nights as he warmed you up in his embrace. you hate how good his fingers feel intertwined with yours. you hate how he'd ruffle your hair when you do something exceptionally good. you detest the fact that with one look and one invitation from him, you'd completely give in and run into his arms; letting him have his way with you.  

by the time you two finished bickering, you had reached your shared quarters with him. you plopped him to his stygian sheets, hands on your knees as you try catching your breath. this man will truly be the death of you, a claim proven by countless near-death experiences all closely related to or caused by him. 

the bastard was already snoring when he laid on his back in a starfish position. but man was it hard to try and lie to yourself when you think that you can simply not look after him in this state. you sighed to yourself as you thoroughly cursed yourself when you sat at the edge of the bed beside his lower body and started to untie his boots. you couldn't resist leaving him like this, as much as you hated to admit it. 

you pulled his shoes off his feet, placing them at the foot of the bed. you then took off his pants, sliding them off him. next was his vest shirt, you lifted him slightly to take it off his arms. as you were taking off his goggles, you noticed how ran down his eyeliner was. was he crying? or did he got drenched in alcohol? the former seems to be the less likely. 

now left in his boxers, you tried slapping him awake but very lightly. "oi, wash yourself before sleeping here."

he grumbled, turning to his side as he threw an arm over you. "fuck that, let me hold you." he nuzzled his face on your thighs, smiling at the warmth and softness of you. "you smell good."

"that's cuz i didn't get out and got myself fucking wasted as if someone's gotta pick me up," you said through gritted teeth.

"don't be stuffy right now, it ain't cute." he teased, kneading the flesh on your rear playfully. "it'd be bliss to sleep like this."

you latched him off of you. "i'll just sleep somewhere else then." you've had enough, you're not letting this slide another time. 

he had a firm grip on your wrist before you could even think about standing and leaving. "no, hey- where are you going?" he opened one eye, trying to look for yours.

"somewhere." you snatched your wrist away, crossing your arms as you faced away from him. your back was all he could look at as he pulled himself up and tried making sense of the events.

"don't be ridiculous, stay here." he pulled you by the arm. 

"no, you know what's fucking ridiculous? me staying with a man who can't, for the life of him, apologize and treat me like the love of his life other than a fuck doll that keeps his dick warm and all the affection i ever get is when you're balls fucking deep in me and you start muttering how amazing that feels! that, that's fucking ridiculous don't you think?!" you let out all in one breath, chest heaving from all the emotional baggage you let out. "can't even step off the goddamn pedestal to say sorry for something so trivial, what more to serious fights huh?! do you just fuck me and move on?!" 

you live up to the shutting-up-eustass-kidd allegations very successfully, because that man is sat there bashfully with his head down. because you and he both know that whatever you spat out is nothing but the complete truth. all your words knocking him sober.

he'd been avoiding dealing with how your fights are turning out. you weren't saying anything about it so he assumed that nothing was wrong, unbeknownst to him that the very reason you were quiet about it is because something IS wrong. as you got into a relationship with him, you knew he's a phenomenal idiot in love but you didn't expect for him to be THAT dense.

he swallowed a lump in his throat and spoke, "will you... become patient with me?" he rubbed the back of his neck in an attempt to formulate his words and regulate the heat in his cheeks. the shyness and the feeling of him doing his best had somewhat warmed up your cold exterior.

"i've been nothing but an asshole to you these past few days and i... well, have no damn excuse for that." he chuckled dryly. "can you give me a chance to... uh... turn it all 'round?"

you were silent, trying to organize your thoughts that argued with the beat of your heart. after receiving no response from you, he cleared his throat, hesitating whether to reach over you or not. 

"when you're ready to talk, you know where to find me." he concluded, standing up and walking out of the room.

you busted out crying when you hear the door shut. it's difficult being with kidd, especially moments like these where you almost want to give up but there's something so deep in you that holds you back... he holds you back. 

unbeknownst to you, he heard your sobs and tried so hard to not storm inside and engulf you in his embrace. but he didn't, he knows better than to invade someone's vulnerability; much more yours. plus; he knows how much you wanted to not be close to him nor see him right now. 

so he went on ahead in his workshop after grabbing a big bottle of beer from the kitchen. he tried distracting himself by tinkering with some trinkets and projects he was working on but you clouded his mind. 

in utter frustration, he threw the scraps of metal he was holding on the ground and ran his fingers through his locks. he wanted to talk to you and get close to you. never in his life had guilt become such a sentience that ate at him. the only thing stopping him was that he truly felt sorry for what he did. 

that's why when the clock stroke four, you pulled yourself together. a whole hour of crying and compartmentalizing, you now have the will to face him. you made your way to his workshop and knocked weakly at his door. "it's me, can i come in?" 

after a few minutes of having no response, you opened the door only to find him slumped at his desk with the half-empty beer bottle in one hand and a little trinket on his prosthetic. 

you clicked your tongue, is drinking himself stupid his coping mechanism?! you yanked the beer bottle off his grasp. you get a good look at the trinket he was holding, it was a metalwork of intricately bent lilies painted in white that circled into a necklace. each petal of the lilies was engraved with the letters of 'sorry'. 

next thing you know, tears in your eyes streamed down your face as you held the jewelry on your fingers. each petal vein was meticulously chiseled just like the real thing. you held it close to your chest as you swallowed your remaining sobs. 

you jolted him awake once more, "come on, let's get you cleaned up." 

"augh, fuck." he groaned, the hangover coming in. "oh shit, you weren't supposed to see that." he let you carry half of his weight as you wrap an arm around his waist and his arm above your shoulders. 

"you've got a shitty way of hiding it, dork." you tched, "you smell worse than a fucking pig, i'll dump your dumbass into that tub myself if you don't do it yourself."

he sat upright before snaking an arm around your waist and pulling you onto his lap, maneuvering you on his thighs so that you are facing him. you leaned at the edge of his worktable, holding onto his shoulders to balance yourself on his lap. his flesh arm that was once on your waist was now settled at the small of your back.

his weary, tangerine orbs that were once looking up at you soon became glassy. he then rested his forehead on your chest, pulling you closer by the grip he has on your waist. 

"i'm sorry." 

you hear him sob on your chest as your shirt slowly got damp, his grip tightening with each second the same way his cries become louder. you placed a comforting hand at the back of his neck, while the other gave his back circular rubs. he kept repeating those two words back at you while muttering his amends and you let him. 

he then let you carry him to the bathroom, it was a silent stroll to your shared quarters. he let you take off his clothes and settle him on the foamy water of the tub. he let you scrub the grime off his back and shampoo his stiff hair; the water soon turning into a muddy greenish, black. 

"face me." you broke the silence, ordering him to do so. he shifted in the small tub, his large body spilling over water and wetting you. 

his eyeliner had run down and his lipstick was smeared from his nonstop booze consumption. he bashfully faced you, avoiding your gaze. 

after dampening the washcloth with soap and water, you lifted his chin with your fingers, gently scrubbing the ran-down makeup off his face. "can't look after yourself, huh?"

"i like it when you take care of me." he retorted, finally looking at you. studying how you concentrate on each spot of his face as you cleaned it. "and... i always want you to. i'm sorry for being an jackass... all the time." he finally said it after swallowing hardly. "i was too much of a coward to deal with all my fuckin' baggage, i always thought sex would solve it all."

"i know you're a dumbass but i didn't know your brain does not fucking work." 

he chuckled a little, raising his hand from being submerged under the water and placing it above yours. "i'm running out of chances to make it up to you, ain't i?"

"i want you to know that no matter how dumb you are, how fucked up you become, however many times your stupidity gets the best of you, and each time you find yourself in deep shit. i'll never get tired of you." you gave him a pinch in the cheek. "but the next time you pull this kind of bullshit again, i'll be seeing myself out. now shut up and let me finish this, i'm too sleepy."

"yes ma'am." he retorted, a grin tugging at his lips. "love you too." 

[thefallennightmare]

Miracle-twenty one

*gif found on pinterest*

Pairings: Noah Sebastian x Reader

Warnings/Tropes: forced proximity, slight enemies to lovers, slow burn, smut, angst, fluff, mentions of death, and swearing.

Summary: Reader is the merch girl for Bad Omens. It wasn't what she wanted to do with her life but when her mother got sick with Alzheimer's, reader took a job where she could to help with the costs. She thought it would be a one-time gig but the longer she was on the road with them, the harder she fell for Noah Sebastian; even if he wanted nothing to do with her. She needed a miracle to save her mom and her future.

Author Note: here's some more smut for you!

Tags: @ada-clarence @nonamessblog @thescarlettvvitch @malice-ov-mercy @crimson-calligraphyx @theoneandonlykymberlee @yumikitten @blackveilomens @cherrymedicine13 @thebadchic @notmaddihealy @jay02bo @beaker1636 @jakekiszkasguitarpick @punk-pr1ncessxoxo @er3nslovergirl @iamdesolate @lma1986 @jessitpwk @themodern-daywednesday @writethrough @bngurngheart @dreams-that-are-anwsered @loeytuan98 @omens-in-reverse @loverofagoodbeard @jay02bo @niicoleleigh @tearfallpixie

NOAH

A small yawn left my lips as I buried myself deeper into my bed, pulling the warm body closer to my chest. Y/N sighed in her sleep, unbothered that I began trailing my fingers up and down the skin of her arm, and I gazed down at her. It's been a few days since the fire and at first, she was really apprehensive of staying here until Jolly and I reassured her we didn't care. Eventually she eased away her worries and became more comfortable moving around the house.

But the nightmares weren't something she got over.

The last two nights, she woke up screaming thinking she was back in her house, in the flames. I would calm her down by bringing her to my chest and soothe her hair away from her face, sometimes even humming a soft tune so she could calm herself back to sleep.

So far tonight, there were no signs of nightmares, but I stayed up to watch her, just in case.

As my knuckles grazed over her arm, my gaze caught sight of the healing cuts and bruises that were scattered along them, the fight with James flashing into my mind.

I kicked the back door in, smoke immediately filling my lungs, and I pulled the top of my sweater over my mouth. Through hazy vision, I did my best to maneuver my way through the unfamiliarity of the house. I tried to remember how the layout was when I was here last time for the funeral.

Just past the kitchen was the hallway where the stairs were that would lead me upstairs to Y/N's bedroom. Where the fire was fastly spreading and by now, it could have spread to the room next to her; the one I needed to get to.

A loud grunt followed my something dropping to the floor caught my attention, and I swung on my heels to see a body leaning over the couch in the living room; the only area where the fire hasn't spread. It seemed like wherever the fire started, it must have been upstairs. Even through the smoke filling the space around me, I recognized who was pouring something on the couch.

"Mother fucker!" I spat.

James turned hastily towards me, a look of shock on his face. "What the fuck? You're not supposed to be here!"

Sprinting towards him, I tackled him to the ground, the red jug of now what I realized was gasoline falling out of his grasp onto the couch. I laid fist after fist into his face while James tried to protect himself, failing miserably.

"Fuck you!" I seethed when he somehow pushed me away from him.

Scrambling to my feet, I brought my foot back in a high kick, the toes of shoe connected with his stomach. James groaned in pain as he clutched himself, spitting what I imagined was blood to the floor.

"I should have figured you'd come to save her; her knight in shining armor," he chuckled darkly while kneeling in front of me.

Anger radiated through me in hypersonic waves, but I did my best to keep myself calm. I couldn't afford to waste time with this asshole while Y/N was barley hanging on.

"Why the hell are you burning down her house?!" I demanded to know after throwing another punch to his jaw.

Shit, that hurt.

I shook out the pain in my hand while watching James clutch his face.

"She doesn't deserve this house! It should have been left to me! My mom left me with nothing after leaving me as a child. Who does that!" James bellowed.

"You think you're the only one that was traumatized by your mom?" I scoffed but then coughed as the smoke filled my lungs completely. "You want to talk about what Y/N doesn't deserve? She doesn't deserve her fucking brother trying to kill her!"

By now, the flames were licking their way down the staircase, burning away the only way for me to make it upstairs to Y/N.

James looked up at me with blood pooling from his mouth, a sinister smirk on his face.

"How does it feel knowing the girl you love is seconds away from burning alive? That is, if the fall doesn't kill her first."

Sheer darkness overtook me as I lifted him from the floor by the collar of his shirt and tossed him over the couch. He clattered to the ground as the jug of gasoline fell with him, covering him in the foul smell.

A knock at my bedroom door brought me out of the memory and carefully detaching myself from Y/N, my feet pattered towards the door. Once opened, I gave a small smile to Jolly.

"How's she doing?" He asked nodding behind me.

Looking over my shoulder, I noticed she was still asleep, clutching the pillow tight to her chest.

"She's alright. So far no nightmares," I said when I turned back to Jolly.

Jolly gave me a curt nod. "Well, there's a detective downstairs wanting to talk to you."

My heart pounded in my chest but I did my best not to show how worried I was. I had a feeling after the police talked with James and got his side of the story, they'd be knocking on my door right after.

"Isn't it kind of late?" I asked, running a hand through my hair.

"He said it won't take long," Jolly shrugged.

With a sigh, I nodded and followed him downstairs where I saw the detective standing in the middle of the entryway.

"Mr. Sebastian, I'm sorry for stopping by so late," he extended a hand towards me.

"Noah is fine," I said while shaking it. "Is there something new with the investigation?"

The detective nodded. "We spoke with James a few hours ago. He finally woke up from the coma the hospital put him in to deal with the pain. He told us you attacked him?"

"Yes, because I saw him pouring gasoline downstairs. He was the one that started the fire." I retorted back defensively.

"We know that" the detective nodded. "James told us everything so as far as I see it, you're not in any trouble."

I gave my own nod. "Good. Now what does this mean for Y/N?"

"She'll have to go through the insurance company to see if she'll get any money from losing everything. But as far as I'm aware, that can be a process."

"Right," Jolly snorted. "So what you're saying is that has nothing?"

The detective gave us a sorrowful smile. "I wish I had better news on that front. But at least James won't be a problem anymore. He's looking to go for a plea deal so Y/N won't have to worry about testifying."

"Thanks for the update," I grumbled then gave him my back as I walked upstairs.

Jolly was wrong; Y/N didn't have nothing. She had me, us. We would be all she needed until she found herself back on her feet. No matter what it cost me, I'd give her the entire world if that's what she wanted.

Back in my room, I noticed she was still fast asleep and ran a knuckle over her cheek to brush away the hair from her face, marveling at how soft her skin was. In the beginning, our relationship was rocky and I'd said some hurtful things to her not knowing what she was going through back home. Her life was crumbling and instead of being a strong support system, I was being an asshole because of my own problems. She didn't deserve this, any of this that life threw at her, and yet she still had a smile on her face throughout all the pain.

I knew from that moment she came to the party that she would mean so much to me. I despise how long and what happened to her for me to finally accept it. But from this moment forward, I'd prove that to her.

"I love you, angel," I whispered, staring down at here with a small smile.

READER

"Oh, fuck you!" I bellowed.

Folio chuckled as he set the game controller down on the couch next to him. "Damn, I never realized you were such a sore loser."

I shot him with an icy glare. "You cheated."

Nick shook his head at the two of us while he brought us two plates of food; fresh hot pizza.

"Thank you," I smiled warmly at Nick.

He sat down next to me with his own food and motioned to the television, where Folio and I just ended the game we were playing. "Folio will claim he never cheats but he's a screen watcher."

I gasped while whirling my head back to Folio. "I knew it!"

It's been almost a week since the fire and this was the first time I'd seen both Nicks since then. They traveled back to Virgina to visit family and returned earlier this afternoon. We decided to have a relaxing night in because in just a few days, they'd be leaving for Europe while I stayed here because I couldn't find the voice to ask for my job back. I knew the guys would allow me to continue work with them but the part of me that didn't want to be a bother held me back.

Plus, I was dealing with a lot of personal thoughts that was causing a small wall to be built up around me. Something Noah noticed. We hadn't been intimate since the first night here and needless to say, I was horny. Noah wanted to make sure I was in the right headspace since I was dealing with nightmares, him being there to hold me when they woke me with a scream.

If the nightmares weren't bad enough, I was also upset with the fact that out of everything I lost in the fire, the only thing I wanted was my laptop that had pictures of me with the guys and crew members. Hundreds of pictures and videos of all the fun times we had on the road together. The one I really wanted was the picture of Noah and I from that party, before everything went to shit.

"Angel."

Looking up to Noah as he stood in front of me, I raised a brow at him. "What?"

He said nothing, simply picked me up from the couch so he could sit with me now in his lap. Large arms wrapped around me from behind as I leaned deeper into his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart against my back. He covered us with a blanket as Jolly switched from the video game to a movie while Nick turned off the lights. We all settled in as the comedy movie played and when I shifted to be more comfortable on Noah's lap, he groaned quietly in the back of my neck. My name fell from his lips in a hushed warning.

Smirking, I played with this a bit more.

Underneath the blanket, I snaked a hand between my legs and ran fingers over Noah's dick, which twitched underneath my touch. He wore a pair of sweatpants so I could feel the outline of it but I couldn't slip my hand beneath his waistband to grasp it which made me frown.

"What are you doing?" He breathed in my ear.

Ignoring him, I made a show of getting comfortable in a different position by now sitting at his side and curling up into his chest with the blanket still covering us. Both Nick's and Jolly were engrossed in the movie that they were oblivious to Noah and I as I finally slipped my hand in his pants, fingers touching the soft skin of his already hard cock.

"Angel," Noah grunted in my hairline.

Keeping my gaze on the television, I worked my hand up and down, squeezing every so often. When my thumb brushed along the head, swirling the pre-cum everywhere, Noah's body twitched next to me. His hand slipped underneath my shirt, calloused fingers grazing over the skin of my stomach up towards my breasts and he pinched my perk nipple.

I bit back a moan but kept up my actions on his cock only this time working harder. His head fell back against the couch, silver chain catching the light from the television, and I had to hold myself back from not straddling his lap to get a taste of the skin of his neck. Noah's hips thrust up into my hand a few times before stilling, a harsh breath crawling from the back of his throat when warm cum spilled into my hands and I peered up at him through my lashes, jerking him off through the last waves of his orgasm.

His gaze was hot, burning into me, as I pulled my hand out of his pants and brought my finger to my lips, unnoticed by the guys, and licked his arousal off my fingers one by one.

"Upstairs. Now." Noah yanked me from the couch and tossed me over his shoulder.

I squeeled in delight as he began running upstairs.

"Try to keep it down, alright?" Nick called behind our backs.

[icequeenlila]

See right through Me (Locorro)

context: Spider and Lo'ak got surprised by Quaritch coming home. Lo'ak went out of the window. Spider got called down to the kitchen.

“What is it?” He tried to suppress the roll of his eyes when stepping into the kitchen, but failed miserably.

“First of all, you can stick that attitude up your ass”, his father said from where he was clearing out the dishwasher. “Second of all, there’s chicken nuggets on the table. Eat.”

Spider frowned at him. “That’s what’s so important?”

Yes, he was annoyed, but that didn’t stop him from crossing the room towards the kitchen table. He was hungry after all the kissi- He was hungry after all.

“You always bitch about how they get all soggy when cooled off”, his father answered without looking up at him. “So, for the sake of my piece of mind, yes, it’s that important.”

Spider rolled his eyes again, letting himself plop down onto his chair.

“You know I have eyes at the back of my head”, his father warned.

Spider grinned to himself, rolling his eyes once more for good measure. And then he took a bite of his chicken nuggets.

“How was work?”, he asked over a full mouth, ripping off the lid of the sweet and sour sauce.

His father placed the last plate into the shelf, closing the now empty dishwasher. Then he turned to look at Spider with subdued annoyance.

“Never mind”, Spider groaned, his eyes rolling on their own.

“Spider.” It was a warning. A mild one, but still.

“Okay, okay.”

His father didn’t like him asking about his work. Spider didn’t even know what kind of job he had. Only that it was paid well enough for his father to afford their big ass house, a big ass Jeep, and sending Spider to a big ass private school.

“I’ll just sit here, silently eating my chicken nuggets, pretending my father isn’t probably some kind of mafia boss or criminal”, he said, dipping a nugget into his sauce.

“You say that, still all I can hear is you japing away.” His father was unimpressed by his antics, and Spider knew it was useless to push the topic.

So, he settled for looking down at his food to hide yet another roll of his eyes from the man’s sight. He wondered if Lo’ak would eat once he got home. He had only managed to get him to eat half a slice of pizza earlier. After that they were too busy with eating each other.

Spider cringed at his own choice of words, feeling the tips of his ears burn with shame. Also, it just reinforced pictures from earlier this day, making an endless playlist of Lo’ak smiling, Lo’ak gasping, Lo’ak kissing him, replay before his inner eye.

Spider was so fucked.

“Had fun?” His father’s voice startled him from his indecent thoughts.

“Huh?” Spider looked up at him, feeling the blood shoot to his cheeks at getting caught like that. “What?”

Miles Quaritch tapped two fingers at his own neck. “Got something there.”

Oh shit.

Spider clasped a hand over his neck, only now remembering the mark Lo’ak had left there. He hadn’t yet had the chance to inspect it, so he hadn’t realized how bad it was.

It still tingled.

Oh shit. Oh fuck. Oh Eywa, safe him.

His father quirked a brow at him, still unimpressed, leaning against the counter with his big arms crossed over his chest.

“Was it the boy or the girl?”

Spider was still frozen in shock, half chewed nugget forgotten inside his mouth. He frowned at his father, because he literally wasn’t able to do much more.

Now his father was the one to roll his eyes. “Was it the Sully boy or the girl?”

Spider chocked. So much that there were tears springing to his eyes as he coughed against the burn of his throat and down his chest. “Wha- urgh- the fuck?”

His father wordlessly walked over, towards him, giving him two heavy slaps to the back, until Spider spit out a pulp of mashed chicken.

“Why- “

A cough.

“How do you- “

Another cough.

Spider felt sick.

“You don’t have any friends, Spider”, his father said, like it would explain things. “It was the boy, wasn’t it?”

Spider was shocked speechless, unable to do more than stare up at the man in something that was close to fear.

His father, still unimpressed, just gave him a light slap against his temple. “Shame, that kid is a pain in the ass.”

He turned away from Spider, heading for the hallway. “I’m taking a shower. Don’t dare to turn off the light as long as I’m in there.”

(The light switch was outside the bathroom, and young Spider had found it hilarious to turn off the light while his father was standing under the shower. The man sprained his ankle once, because of it.)

“Hope he’s worth the trouble”, Spider heard him say, before the bathroom door fell shut behind him.

And then he just sat there. In the silence of the kitchen. The faint noise of the washing machine, echoing from the laundry chamber, and the shrill ticking of the kitchen clock were the only sounds inside the room.

Spider blinked into empty space. And he blinked again. And again. And again.

“The fu- “

+

From chapter 4 of 'See right through Me'

Link to fic:

[gabsforjustyuris]

My dear customer

Hey, sorry in advance for the grammatical errors, English is not my native language, anyway, I hope you like it! ^^

Hurt/comfort, Angst, Oc Pov, F!Reader, Kafka x Reader. 2k words.

Wandering the galaxy as a nomad and doing different jobs. You with your dark past found yourself without hope about the future, until a certain woman with magenta hair decided to see you again.

You woke up, meditated and got ready to head towards the daydream bar, seeing those pompous sofas and extravagant chandeliers. Not that you liked seeing them every day, of course, it got to the point where it made your eyes sick with so much brightness, but at least it was proof that the recognition of the place as a paradisiacal oasis lived up to the rumors that spread across the galaxy. 

The atmosphere surrounding the installation was one of relief and at the same time a lot of energy, something like an endless party or solving all problems. And you couldn't judge those who actually believed it. Penacony was made to convey this type of illusion, however, it failed to reach you.

His goal was vague. The routine consisted of getting up, serving glasses, meditating and sleeping. You didn't trust the dream world or believe in its symbol. Paradises don't exist. It was direct and simple, just like in life that is born to meet its end.

On the other hand, luck determines success. Blessed are those who had the compassion of an Aeon, who in turn, reversed their miserable lives with a divine touch. But who would say that most living beings would have such an opportunity?

As the firstborn daughter and former heir guardian of Aqualis, I should pursue a life of responsibility. But a curse from the selfish gods broke our bloodline. My people suffered and ultimately lost our planet to the corruption of a Stellaron.

Therefore, what fault would it be to be bitter with the Aeos or disbelieve in eternal life?

What fault am I? None.

My past has distorted the good memories over the years, and the trails of scars I left stain every planet and facility I've ever visited until I arrived in Penacony, where he has remained for the last few weeks as a bar attendant outside the worldly. My steps are doomed, and the people who passed my path had their own disappointments, and yet I just swam with the tide without knowing the current.

– A very relaxing place to have a drink, I must say… – I heard it in between my stormy reveries, making me give the speaker a wary glance.

Of course, it was no longer enough that memories flashed before my eyes, or in every job I had to interact with ignorant people, as well as facing a past ghost that followed me everywhere.

Kafka. I remembered your name, already feeling a bitter taste rising in my throat. 

Shit. I just sighed deeply and finally turned to the cross-legged woman on the counter seat. Wearing that damn attractive look, silky hair tied in big locks, sunglasses that covered her eyes and those honey lips. 

Tired, I just sighed while continuing to clean the glass in my hand, averting my eyes from the innocent smile, in an expression so soft that it was irritating. I stopped for a moment to admire the shiny tables, watching with a certain envy and at the same time without interest the people and robots who were enjoying their short lives before finally returning to what was in front of me.

– Look, if it isn’t a bag of gems from the cosmos.

– If it isn't the princess without a home. – She responded, resting her hand on her chin and turning her head, all while maintaining the curve of her lips.

– Fuck you – I lowered the tone when I swore, standing in front of her, observing how the sound of her laugh came out of that relaxed expression, as if she had no intentions, but I knew she did, she always does.  – What do you want?

– I'm a customer, aren't I? – He questioned, placing his gloved fingers on the edge of the glass that had just been cleaned, pushing it towards me on the counter. – Surprise me, sweetie.

I looked at the glass and then looked up at her, swallowing my own words in an uncomfortable silence, starting to prepare a mixture that I thought suited the hunter's standards.

Deep down I knew her predatory eyes were shamelessly chasing my ass, and just thinking about it felt like my consciousness was slipping out of focus, feeling my heart stop or my trembling fingers falter, but at no point did I turn to her. see her again, because with every breath, with every blink of an eye, those memories emerged, their voices in the depths of my consciousness.

– Here it is. – I delivered the purple pigmented milkshake with a vanilla interior sprinkled with small chocolate droplets and a cream-filled edge.

– Purple, how thoughtful of you. – His drawling voice seemed satisfied, looking at me behind his neutral glasses as he drank the drink through the straw.

I sighed once again, looking away again until I found another visitor, which was the perfect excuse to leave.

– Excuse me. – I went to the next customer, talking while preparing the drink, serving with a polite smile, all while being aware of how her eyes followed me throughout the process, raising her glasses above her eyebrows.

The day was too calm for me to worry so much. My fingers pressed against my temple and my head tried its best to push away the problems that surrounded my mind. Adjusting my simple dress shirt and vest look with this suffocating colorful tie around my neck. As much as she was here, I would have to bear it for my current job. I need to be professional and ignore her advances until she gives up.

That would be if she wasn't as resilient as I imagined, something that shattered all my expectations, because she was. Time passed in a calming silence between both parties, from time to time I cast discreet glances to check on her, noticing how the hunter of Stellarons she seemed a little hazy, as if she had happy thoughts without removing the smile on her face, and at the same time, sad memories due to the sadness in her eyes, but who really knows? She was a mystery...

– Do you want anything else? – I decided to get closer again after all this time, attracting her gentle eyes.

– Hmmm… – She hummed thoughtfully, looking at the empty milkshake glass as if thinking carefully about my question, returning to me. – I pass.

I waved, unconsciously smiling and picking up the glass to clean, but before that, now focusing on her a little calmer than before, since the woman didn't appear to be a threat at the moment.

– You seem thoughtful. – I blurted out, giving her a reason to let out another amused hum, increasing the smile on her face.

– I do? – He placed his fingers on his chin, caressing his own face until he almost covered his own smile, 

– Yes… – I sigh deeply, combing my hair and looking away for a moment. And so I decided to get straight to the point after thinking about it, placing my hands on the counter in a centered position in front of her. – Just one thing... to be clear, I don't want any trouble so... don't waste your time trying to get my head for money.

– Didn't you like our last meetings, princess? – He tilted his head with a malicious look behind his peaceful face.

– If you want to call fights like that…

– You know, normal dates are boring. – He started watching my movements with disinterest. – or are you going to tell me that our battles didn't make you feel anything?

– I think you're weird, but I… I suppose so?

I responded, making her laugh at my reaction, which without realizing it, made me smile discreetly, going towards the sink from behind, washing the glass, with my back to her.

– It is a shame.  – She said, catching my attention, turning to look into her eyes, confused by the comment.

– What do you mean by that? – I asked, and Kafka shrugged, continuing.

– I mean, you've spent most of your life training and now you're limited to wandering the cosmos like a nomad, helping people and wasting your time with boring jobs. 

– Does this bother you? – I asked, putting away the body and returning to her. – As far as I know, you were never really interested in my life.

– No. – He agreed, without wavering or taking his eyes off mine. – But I expected more from you.

– And should I care what you think after all? – I placed my hands on the counter again, feeling a little nervous. – My planet was dying, I lost my family, my friends and in the meantime you just disappeared and came back just to use me as a toy to entertain your selfish desires.

It was an indisputable fact. On their home planet, the Arcanis imperial family would begin with the clear objective of establishing energy balance. nexalith, a powerful magic that established easy transport between planets, being the primary material essential for the revitalization of the planet. 

During the last years of her life, as a young adult, I ended up meeting the hunter of Stellarons without being aware of their high-danger status throughout the universe. I didn't know why she was there, or what she really did. Sometimes she disappeared without saying anything and then came back acting naturally. Kafka was a woman who didn't usually talk much about herself, but she always listened to my outbursts or appeared from time to time at my window after a long day to pass the time, and that never failed to catch my attention. Her answers were too vague or so complex that I found myself thinking all day. She would tell some stories so detailed that I would wonder if they were true, and her touches were so precise, safe, without restrictions because she didn't seem to be afraid of anything. 

And when everything happened, Kafka completely disappeared from sight, and then returned months later as if nothing had happened, infuriating you and inevitably taking you both to the battlefield against your own will, despite the fact that the woman seemed to have enjoyed it. fight.

– The end of your planet didn't depend on me, it was its destiny to end.

– But I… i just… – I hesitated, looking into her eyes, feeling a slight burning in the corners of my eyes, furrowing my eyebrows and in the end giving up, taking a cloth and going to rub it on the counter. – Forget.

An awkward silence fell between us, but we still had each other's company. The sound playing in the back of the room accompanied simple notes, distracting my consciousness. With that violin in the background, the instrument that I knew very well, was his favorite.

– So… did you miss me? – Suddenly I hear doubt come from her voice, making my hand that was rubbing the counter with the cloth stop abruptly for a moment.

– You stupid, stupid idiot. – I take a deep breath, swearing in whispers, knowing that she could very well hear them, and then, I turned to her, in a failed attempt not to sound slightly vulnerable, in a low tone: – Of course I do.

With that she smiled, getting up from the bench, looking around and seeing the few people who were present in the room. Probably most of them went to the worldly or they had gone to rest, well, it doesn't matter. Kafka seemed to have something on his mind as he walked up to face me. His height is close to mine, being taller thanks to the heels on his feet, looking at me from head to toe.

– And then? – I furrowed my eyebrows, losing my patience with her games, almost immediately receiving a quick response from her. – There’s something wrong with my fac-

That's how the woman with the magenta hair saw the perfect opportunity to advance towards me, grabbing my tie, pulling hard until my body collided against the counter and my face came closer, leaning towards me and coming face to face with me. my lips, taking me by surprise.

Little by little, I let myself be carried away, without resisting the hunter. I closed my eyes and focused on our calm kiss, feeling a kind of relief course through my body as my stomach fluttered like it was full of butterflies. My mind went blank, leaving only the moment. The pressure on my body softened, and my fingers released a small grip on the cloth, causing a large shiver. She left me breathless, speechless. When he pulled away, he looked into my eyes with that charming smile, alternating his attention between my iris and my lips.

– It was good to see you again too, sweetie. – She whispered to me, pulling away and turning his back, walking away.

Not knowing what to say, I just watched his farewell with a tightness in my chest, feeling as if a part of me was going along. I was overcome by an internal conflict, with all those sweet memories running through my mind. It was a rollercoaster of emotions; This woman awakened something I had never felt before. Seeing her go was like a weight being lifted off my shoulders, but deep down I knew I longed for her presence again.

And when I lowered my eyes, reflectively, I came across a bag of money tied with a bow in my favorite color. In it was a small folded paper, carefully attached, piquing my curiosity. When I opened it, I read a sentence that, even against my will, made me let out a slight genuine smile.

Until death do us part in the next duel, darling.

Kafka.

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸

⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️

🧟‍♂️🧟‍♂️🧟‍♂️🧟‍♂️🧟‍♂️🧟‍♂️🧟‍♂️🧟‍♂️🧟‍♂️🧟‍♂️🧟‍♂️🧟‍♂️🧟‍♂️🧟‍♂️🧟‍♂️🧟‍♂️🧟‍♂️

Brains, Blood and Marriage Proposals what can go wrong

WOOO! Hell yeah.

84 for 🩸:

---

He is so happy she sees it that way. So relieved that he doesn’t have to prove that to her or Buck. 

“Sounds like something more happened,” Eddie says. “Because, if I remember right, you were kind of the person who complained the least about the way we were raised.”

She chuckles a little. “Funny, right?”

“What happened?” He presses. 

“A week before you, uh…” She trails off. “You know?”

He nods. Yes, that super fun night in this very backyard. How could he forget?

“A week before, I left Hernan,” she says. 

He had expected as much. But he still wants to know the story. 

“I packed up my shit, ended up on their doorstep, and told them I was done.” She explains. “Asked them if I could stay while I found a job and a divorce attorney.”

“Chris didn’t mention that, when he called me to come home.” Eddie says.

“He probably wouldn’t have, given what he heard,” Sophia replies.

Eddie’s stomach twists. “What did he hear?”

“After a few days of indulging me, Mom and Dad sat me down in the living room and tried to convince me to go back to Hernan.”

Eddie winces. “Jeez.”

There’s something incredibly insidious, he realizes, how he was encouraged not to go after Shannon, or make any attempts at reconciliation. But Sophia got different treatment. Yeah, Eddie doesn’t want his son baking in all that misogyny for the remainder of his teenage years, either. 

“When I told them that I never really felt comfortable with Hernan, that he pursued me, and I went along with it because I felt I had to, and… And I didn’t love him. And that he didn’t want me to work. Just wanted babies…” 

She takes a shuddering inhale.

“They said, that’s what marriage is sometimes.”

Eddie could puke.

“Fuck that, Soph.” He tells her adamantly. “You made the right choice.”

“Oh, I know,” she exhales. “I was miserable. I’ve been happier being attacked by vampires with your boyfriend than I was sharing a bed with my husband.”

Eddie winces. 

“I’m guessing they didn’t come around?” 

She shakes her head. 

“I got heated, then they got heated, and then…” She sighs. “Then it became a really loud fight that wasn’t just about my failed marriage.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s like they lost focus on me, and it became about us.” 

Eddie frowns. “You and Hernan?”

“No. Me and you.” 

“Me? I didn’t leave Hernan. How is that also my fault?”

“Well, um, hate to break it to you, but we’re both in the disappointing kids club. They don’t know where they went wrong. Their eldest is an unstable, philandering, bad father. Their next child is is a haughty, cruel-hearted, gold digger, who just married a wealthier man to leave and make money off of him. If it comes out of the woodworks that Adriana is a serial killer, that’ll just be par for the course.”

“Oh god,” Eddie sighs.

“And of course Chris heard everything,” Sophia says. 

“No.” 

“Came barging out of his room to defend you. Just like you, actually. You’d have been proud, if it wasn’t so horrifying.”

“He shouldn’t have had to do that,” Eddie says, tears welling in his eyes. 

“No,” she agrees. “He shouldn’t have. But he did. And he made sure they knew it wasn’t your fault his mother died, and you were a good man, and…”

“And what?”

“And then they started shit talking Shannon, too.”

Eddie could boil from the inside out. How dare they? His poor boy. He always tried to protect Chris from their opinions of her. 

---

51 for ⚡️:

---

In the days that come, it is incredibly hard to keep this a secret from Buck. Not that there’s anything to tell. Yes, he has decided, but he hasn’t done anything. Not until his planning lunch with Adriana tomorrow, anyway. It might actually be easier if he had. Had impulsively purchased a ring and came up with something quick, simply so the idea of proposing wasn’t a secret locked in his chest anymore. Screw Bobby’s waiting until June advice. He needs to be engaged to Buck soon. 

It gets even harder when Buck asks if they can go out to dinner on Friday night, just them.

“No Chris?” Eddie inquires. 

“Uh, no,” Buck says. “Maddie and Chim were going to take Jee to see that new Disney movie, and asked if Chris wanted to go.”

“They invited just Chris? Not us?” 

“Yep,” Buck nods. 

“Huh,” Eddie muses. “That’s… I mean, that’s nice, right? Like a real and uncle sort of thing to do?”

“Yes!” Buck agrees, a strange, nervous grin on his face. “Yes, and I don’t want to watch the damn movie. And if I don’t, I know you don’t.”

“That’s true,” Eddie agrees. 

“So dinner? You? Me? You know, a date.” 

Buck seems strangely militant about this. 

“Yes, I will go on a date with you, Buck,” Eddie laughs. “How fancy?”

“Look pretty,” Buck instructs. 

“So anything I want, then?”

Buck frowns. “I see I have praised your handsome face and mesmerizing ass too many times. It’s gone to your head. Dress nicely, Eddie.”

So Eddie dresses nicely. Pants that make his ass look, what was it? Mesmerizing? And a cream colored shirt that Eddie might never have chosen for himself until Buck saw it in a store and said fuck, you’d look good in that. Buck wears blue. Eddie loves when he wears blue. 

Eddie is a little concerned when the drive takes nearly an hour, headed south. Surely there are closer nice places to eat? But Buck says he got them reservations at a place in Malaga Cove. Which is super fancy and definitely out of their regular date night budget. Okay, so Buck is splurging, then. 

The restaurant is a Mediterranean style, fine-dining place, with an ocean-view patio. An ocean-view patio which they are given a private corner of. The server beams at them as she seats them. Someone is angling for a big tip, he supposes.

---

51 for 🧟‍♂️:

---

Buck carries the bucket in one hand and does a cradle carry of the loaded shotgun in the other. 

“One day, will I be as strong as you?” Denny asks, struggling with the bags in his arms as they climb the stairs. 

“Stronger I bet.” Buck tells him. 

If they all survive that long. 

Buck thinks of it sometimes. What kind of world faces Denny. He can only imagine how often that’s on Hen and Karen’s minds. 

It’s as they’re about to step out onto the road that it happens. At first, the low thrumming sound of a distant engine. Strange enough, these days, to make Buck’s hairs stand on end.

“Denny, get behind me,” he orders, setting the fish bucket on the ground and gripping his shotgun with both hands. 

“What’s going on?” Denny asks, nervous. 

“Not sure yet,” Buck admits. 

He squints, looking into the distance. Coming from the southeast, still a ways off, is a car. Looks like a four door sedan, but… Black and white. A police cruiser? 

“Denny, take the walkie, go back onto the staircase where you’re hidden, and let them know a cop car is coming and I need help.”

“O-okay,” Denny says, voice shaky. He drops the rest of his things, grabs the walkie from where it’s clipped to Buck, and runs back in the direction they came. Buck hears him whispering, scared, into the device’s receiver. 

Buck gets low. Behind a bush. Where he hopefully won’t be seen if the driver speeds through. He doesn’t want to risk a drive by shooting. It’s pretty hard to pass them by and not see signs of life. A cared for property. Gardens. Security measures put in place; lower level windows all boarded up, extra locks on the doors. If the person is looking for refuge or other humans, they’ll stop. If they’re just passing through - taking a strange route - then he’s safe. 

Vaguely, Buck feels an age old wound start to throb. The maybe. The what if. What if this is Maddie? What if this is Abby? The chances are slim. Ridiculous even. How would either of them have gotten a squad car? Unless its radio is how Maddie knew where to come? Abby knows they’re here. If she was going to come back - if she was alive to come back - she would have by now. After all, it was her library, before it was theirs. 

The vehicle slows as it approaches the library. Buck turns the safety off his gun. It’s not that he doesn’t want to help someone who might need help. It’s really not that. He was a firefighter, for god’s sake. That was his whole calling. 

[handercover]

Tom should have known this was gonna happen eventually, he had known for the longest time yet... He never thought this was gonna happen, it's been what... Years? Yet he didn't know how to feel, his mind was blank, his brain almost went on autopilot as he went on with his day

He thought he could handle it... He would be lying, he still doesn't know what to do or think after all this time, and who could blame him?

They've struck with eachother for so long... Why would she leave now?

"Seriously what's up with you?" Tom is snapped out of his thoughts by her huff as she makes some tea, frowning over her shoulder as he sits blankly in front of the couch. He blinks before looking at her "You... You said you were leaving" he says, somewhat calmly

Han just looks at him, blinking before she turns to pour the hot water in two mugs "Yeah?" she responds, confused, Tom frowns but looks away as well "Then why are you asking?" he mutters. She blinks again in confusion as she stirs the water in the mugs with a spoon, adding milk and sugar to the tea before turning around and walking towards the couch

She looks at him curiously before tilting her head "Tom, I'm literally leaving for a week for work, the usual... Why are you acting like I'm never coming back?" she asks, almost amused as she watches his head snap to look at her, his expression surprised

"Wait- what?" he manages to mumble before grabbing his mug from her hand as she hands it to him, shocked "I... I thought..." he mumbles quietly. He looks at her as she sits next to him on the carpet, their backs against the couch behind them, with a sigh she lays her head on his shoulder before taking a sip of her tea

He keeps looking at her until she looks up at him in realisation, smiling smugly before nudging his side with her elbow "Oh my God... Did you think I would leave just like that?" she asks with a quiet chuckle, making sure to not make too much noise before she takes another sip of her tea

Tom huffs before taking a sip of his own tea, begrudgingly observing how she made it just how he likes it before he looks at her, eyes narrowed - yet she stops him before he can talk "It's been... How long? About-" "Eleven years, eight months, three weeks and 4 days" he responds before she can finish, looking away when he realises what he said

She looks at him in surprise, stifling a chuckle as she looks at him "That long? Damn... You have a good memory... Nerd" she chuckles at that as she notices Tom's face turn red, he just looks away and sips his tea "Idiot" he mutters back after a while but she just relaxes next to him as she sips on her own mug

They both sit there in silence next to eachother, Tom silently thinks just how... Different things have been since she quite literally crashed into his life, he can still remember the first time they met as if it was yesterday. Deep down he knows this is far from what he envisioned for his future, but he oddly doesn't mind

He has a good home, people that care about him, the job he loves - something suddenly flops in his lap but he just takes a sip of his tea - a cat and two very loud sons

The two damn rascals clearly taking after their mother in terms of character, but aspect wise they're a spitting copy of him... Tom silently watches his son in his lap, chuckling as he holds Salem, the black feline looking utterly defeated before Han takes pity on him and takes him in her arms

His other son wraps his arms around Han's neck and lays his head on her shoulder, looking as Salem purrs happily in her lap. She chuckles before turning and pressing a kiss to the small boy's cheek, Tom watches as the boy chuckles before his other son also crawls to her, the two boys managing to tackle her to the ground

With a sigh he watches Han trying to fight off their menaces but failing miserably, Tom merely smirks behind his mug as she chuckles

Just had an idea, but I'm actually mentally too tired to think so this ain't making sense - but fuck it AU anyway. Nothing else to say really so I'm just gonna make myself some risotto

[k1ra0nloose]

Kira pookie I need my Self aware!au lore /nf Pls I need to make edgy lore art to feed the demons inside my head /j

*accecends through the floor*

IVE HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS

BRING OUT THE LOOOOREEEE

also I'll be only explaining in the most simplified ver and how it started cause the aftermath is way too long-

Okay so remember when smg4 breaks the fourth wall as a joke? Well I'm this au he felt a lil too silly and decided to mess with it, acting different, tapping the screen all that stuff you know messing with the 4th dimension until he acctually started to go insane questioning his life existence, how much better the world whould be with out him and then he Fucking got too silly decided to go off script where shit goes down. He enters the acctual laptop of Kevin (YES KEVIN THE CEO OF GLITCH PRODUCTION) and he goes to panic mode and tries to get back but failed miserably, he wasn't in control enough to pull a Monika but he can how ever slowly realize that he is just a cartoon and everything and everyone he loved is just a figment of a non existent realty he's a part of the blood and flesh in him is not real and suddenly everything didn't seem to matter anymore since he's just Luke's self insert original characte- POOF he teleports to the digital eather aka taris and meggys special Oasis from western spaghetti there he meets a figment of Luke's imagination as weird as it sounds. Imaginary Luke said that one day there will be destruction across the multiverse and smg4s job was to document aus so that when it does happen they can just yeet them back to their universe So while smg4 was doing that the others were not doing so great, they are trying to survive the apocalypse of curpted memes since without smg4 the meme cycle is broken. they were meet with the currupted memes, Mario isn't allowed outside since he's way too important and if he gets currupted by the dead memes all of them are dead meat, meggy is having the time of her life finnaly getting the chance to go batshit insane and Tari is the only one keeping meggy is check, bob and melony was originally gonna switch personality's and smg3? well he is in absolute missery. The guy he loved hated went missing He has to fight his children (the dead and currupted memes) so that his (boyfriend's) friends are safe and EGGDOG IS CURRUPTING AND TURNING INTO A CURRUPTED MEME so yeah he ain't doing too great

anyways have fun! You better make good lore or I'll fire you (/j) -

Also and- *decends back too the 7th layer of hell*

[iblameashley]

Switching it up now. Some Ghost / 141 x Civilian.

Still gay AF though

SFW, I suppose.

Civilian | Male | Gay

Its not very funny. Im not very funny. I just thought it was cute.

(AU | Private Investigators)

Alex got hired at the 141 PI office six months ago. He basically acted as the secretary; answering calls and emails, filing reports, booking appointments and generally keeping the place up in running. He had quickly learned that coffee was a sin against nature at the office, and learned to make a mean Tea if necessary.

Laswell and Price ran the place, and were pretty chill overall. Under them was a man that went by 'Ghost' who spoke all of 6 words a day. People avoided him like the plague, when possible. Then there was Soap, Gaz below him. Finally Alejandro, Rodolfo, Nikolai, Farrah and Alex below them.

Unbeknownst to both Alex and Ghost... was the whole office was watching Ghost fail miserably at flirting, and enjoying every second of it. They had an internal group email to gossip about it.

Internal Note: To: Ghost-Busting From: Laswell Ghost just came in to ask who the 'short little twat' at the desk was. Apparently Alex wouldnt let him in until he swiped his badge. Man is PISSED. I told him that 'twat' was doing his job. He left bitching about needing badges being a waste of time. Sent Alex a message, telling him good job.

6 people liked this.

Internal Note: To: Ghost-Busting From: Price Ghost told told Alex to "fuck off back to where-ever-the-fuck he flew in from" because Alex told him his report was incomplete and refused to file it. Ghost told him to 'do his job' and bring him a tea to the boardroom. Alex brought him a mug with cold water and tea leaves floating in it. He just said 'enjoy' and walked out. I fear for Alex's life.

9 people liked this

Internal Note: To: Ghost-Busting From: Soap Ghost has been staring at Alex like... all day. He has barely moved from the doorway between the office and lobby. I asked him if everything was OK and he just told me to fuck off. I am currently fucking off far away from him.

Internal Note: To: Ghost-Busting From: Gaz Guys, you will never believe this. I just saw Ghost in the lounge area on his laptop. You'll never guess what he was googling...

(Attachment)

From: Price Does that say 'How do you know if you're gay?'

From: Soap Poor bastard is the last one to know he's gay. Sad.

From: Laswell He has to come out on his own time, Soap!

From: Gaz Yeah, Soap. Stop being a dick.

Internal Note: To: Ghost-Busting From: Soap So remember a couple days ago when Alex said he thought he was being followed home? So we set up a cab to take him home for now?

From: Price Yes. Is he ok? Did something happen.

From: Soap Ghost bought him a taser. The lad is absolutely bewildered right now. He just handed him a taser and said "for safety"

From: Laswell Thats... kinda sweet? Dangerous, but sweet? Yes?

From: Gaz What, couldnt offer to walk Alex home personally?

-9 people liked this

Internal Note: To: Ghost-Busting From: Price Ghost may have just given Alex a heart attack. He for sure gave him a concussion. Long story short: Alex was setting up some equipment for me. Ghost sneaked up on him and offered to help. It scared Alex so bad he bashed his head off the desk. Bleeding pretty bad. Ambulance is on its way.

From: Soap So THATS why he's moping around the lounge! Is Alex going to be OK?

From: Laswell With some counselling... we can only hope.

From: Price I spoke to Ghost about making his presence known more clearly in the future. He grunted and refused to make eye contact.

Internal Note: To: Ghost-Busting From: Gaz Why is it always me who see's this shit?

(Attachment)

From: Soap Is he Googling 'how to tell someone you like them?'

From: Gaz LMAO. The first result was "tell them"

From: Gaz The laptop has been destroy. He threw it and yelled 'Tha's fuckin' shite' and stormed off. He came back to tell me to fuck off. Charming man.

5 people liked this

Internal Note: To: Ghost-Busting From: Laswell I think he's about to do it!

(Laswell shared a link) (Real-time Video of lobby)

From: Nikolai He's... just standing there. In front of the desk. Menacingly.

From: Alejandro This is a big step for him. Give him a moment.

From: Soap Alex looks terrified. Also... the swelling on his head has gone done.

From: Gaz He probably thinks he's having a stroke right now.

From: Laswell Fucking coward! He just said 'Tea?' and walked away.

From: Soap Alex looks so confused. 'does he want a tea? was he asking if I wanted a tea?' Poor lad.

Internal Note: To: Ghost-Busting From: Price Laswell, we may need to contact a lawyer. Ghost literally just tossed a full-grown man out of the lobby. Mind you, he was harassing Alex something fierce, but still... I can see a lawsuit coming our way.

From: Farrah Yes, Ghost! Defend Alex's honour!

From: Soap Knight in shining armour.

From: Gaz Emo-Skeletor to the rescue.

Internal Note: To: Ghost-Busting From: Alejandro Its happening! Finally! Its been weeks!!! Ghost has been waiting at the front door for an hour. Alex asked what he was waiting for and Ghost said he's going to walk him home. Too many incidents lately or some shite. Alex said he didnt have to. Ghost refuses to take no for an answer.

From: Soap Mah MAAAAAAAAAAN. FINALLY.

From: Price Ghost; don't fuck it up.

From: Gaz Y ou watch RuPaul?

From: Price Who?

From: Gaz nvm

Internal Note: To: Ghost-Busting From: Gaz I asked Alex about the walk home. ~Super~ awkward, apparently. Ghost wouldnt stop staring at him. Said almost nothing. Gave him a shoulder punch before he left. lmao, man has no game. Alex has no idea what is happening.

From: Price Understandable.

From: Farrah Should we tell Alex?

From: Soap Nah. It would ruin our fun.

From: Alejandro But it might clear the air between them! Alex has no idea what the fuck is going on.

Internal Note: To: Ghost-Busting From: Soap Any anime fans here?

From: Price No

From: Farrah Nope

From: Alejandro No

From: Gaz Obviously.

From: Soap Ghost has Alex against a wall enemies-to-lover-confession style.

From: Soap LMAO. He told Alex he pisses him off because he makes him think 'gay things' and 'he never had those thoughts before' He is so close to making the connection.

From: Soap Alex said 'my condolences' and slid away.

9 people liked this.

Internal Note: To: Ghost-Busting From: Laswell So, Ghost was sent home today. He refused to go to the hospital.

From: Soap WTF happened?

From: Price Ghost got a little too close to Alex again, so Alex tazed him. Tazed him until he dropped to the floor. In his defense, Ghost was looming over him.

From: Gaz LMFAO. Ah, romance.

From: Laswell Alex is not going to press charges. Ghost really... cant. These chat logs alone are evidence against him.

Internal Note: To: Ghost-Busting From: Price It only took 4 days, but Ghost finally apologized to Alex for scaring him. Again. Alex accepted his apology.

From: Price Apparently it only took being tazed for Ghost to act normal. He has officially asked Alex out on a date. Well... specifically he said 'I want to go to dinner with you. Do you accept?' and Alex nodded.

From: Price Tomorrow night, 7pm!

From: Gaz YEEEESSSSSSSSSSSS

From: Soap !!!!!!!!!

From: Farrah Nice. Bets on how long it takes to fuck it up?

From: Gaz At the door

From: Laswell Give him a chance, guys. He's doing his best as a closet gay disaster.

Internal Note: To: Ghost-Busting From: Gaz The date was a week ago. Any one got any updates? Alex has said nothing about it.

From: Price Nothing

From: Laswell No word

From: Farrah We need an update!

Internal Note: To: Ghost-Busting From: Soap (Attachment)

From: Soap He took his face mask off!!!

From: Soap (Attachment)

From: Soap: He KIsesd Alex@!)

From: Laswell [saves photo] lol. Keeping this moment.

From: Gaz HE DID IT!

From: Farrah Guys. I think he knows we know.

From: Soap Well, you did clap when he walked in and said 'took you long enough'

From: Price Is that why he's paralyzed with fear? In the lounge?

From: Gaz He's blue-screened on us.

From: Alejandro Maybe we can reboot him with a better personality?

From: Price Stop! Let him be happy... or whatever hes feeling.

From: Soap Hes gonna be feeling up Alex later tonight. ;)

[azuryuu]

💓 ✏️ 💧 💥

Hee hoo

hee hoo hee - here r more cringe lore. he's so fucking cringe you should put him down. you should clown on him. do it. do it for me.

💓 BEATING HEART - what gets their heart racing?

coffee. when he drinks too much of it, it gives him heart palpitations. 

any amount of exercise or high impact sports will also get the blood pumping for sure. his heart also tends to race whenever he feels the adrenaline rushing before a test ala pre-exam jitters. or during an exam when he’s not even halfway through the questions yet, but more than half of the exam time has already passed and he has to speed up and pick up his slack or when only 3 minutes are left and yuu has one more paragraph to finish, so yuu has to write at the speed of sound, no time for mistakes. those moments really gets him going.

of course, he loves the adrenaline and the way his heart starts racing when he’s doing something he knows he shouldn’t be doing, messing with someone or stealing something or otherwise committing something foul and villainous and wretched and dastardly. he loves it when he has a close call, when he is so close to being caught in the act, but gets away with it in the end. the best kind of rush making the rewards even more satisfying.

and who can resist the sheer satisfaction he feels when someone he dislikes is floundering, struggling, trying but failing to understand something that yuu understands easily, simply, naturally. when yuu knows that someone he dislikes is wrong about something, and he is only seconds away from correcting them and getting to see them flustered and lose their composure, flapping their chops and stumbling for words to try and retort, failing miserably and embarrassingly.

✏️ PENCIL - is there a particular quote / lyric that you associate with them?

quote:

“isn’t it funny, how you can live so near and never notice.” — not-them, the magnus archives, mag 3: across the street.

“my manipulations were not intricate, but they were far beyond what was expected of a child my age, and i have always believed that the key to manipulating people is to ensure that they always under- or over-estimate you. never reveal your true abilities or plans.” — annabelle cane, the magnus archives, mag 147: weaver.

lyric:

“i, alone, am like a swaying rootless weed./ on this seething, seething loop line,/ there’s none— there’s no terminal stop./ farewell, darling, darling, darling,/ on the endlessly looping loop,/ keep on walking alone miserably, young lady.” — リンネ (rinne)/samsara.

“there is no flower in this world more beautiful than an artificial one./ that’s because everything is manufactured from lies.” — フォニイ/phony.

💧 DROPLET - random angst headcanon

yuu was bullied for as long as he could remember. since the day he could remember, up until the last day of highschool, he was always othered by his peers. in his younger days, for his bizarre mannerism and appearance. in highschool, for his disposition and a title he never asked for. despite being class president, people would isolate him and scribble derogatory insults onto the back of his white uniform shirt or pour an assortment of liquid on him to humiliate him.

classmates would relay all their menial tasks to him, even things that yuu shouldn’t have been doing alone, like cleaning the classroom at the end of the day or carrying stacks of dirty food plates to the bin at the cafeteria, expecting him to simply carry along without a word, not being able to complain because he’s “just doing his task right, oh so great class president.” or fight back because “a real class president shouldn’t mouth off and just do his job right?”. he was only considered class president if it suited the class, otherwise he was more invisible than air, worse than trash.

💥 COLLISON - what emotions do they have trouble dealing with?

yuu actually has good control over his own emotions, and he doesn’t really fight or repress any of them. he’s experienced and mature, he knows how to identify his emotions and deal with them, so he can parse feelings like sadness and anger and embarrassment or humiliation with relative ease. negative thoughts and misery are things he keeps as company so he’d rarely act out because of them. i suppose more positive emotions are ones he has less experience in? even then, yuu wouldn’t fret over it too much. he’ll accept them graciously. yuu has no trouble accepting praise or love. so, of all of them, i think the one feeling yuu absolutely despise is feeling helpless. not knowing what to do, not knowing how to do something, not knowing. he hates it. he doesn’t like how it makes him feel small and weak and powerless. he doesn’t like how it opens him up to being taunted at and jeered at by others for his shortcomings. it’s something that yuu would seek to rectify as fast as he can, and yuu has already gotten over his struggle of asking for support. he wants to resolve something by himself, but if he needs help he’s going to ask for it.

overall, yuu is very nonchalant. he doesn’t see the point of feeling emotions strongly. superlatives like “love” or “hate” or “jubilation” or “ire” or “attraction” or “revulsion” or “admiration” or “jealousy” are a waste of his time because he doesn’t let himself be affected or bothered by things external to himself, which in turn makes him emotionally resilient. to feel strongly because of other people or by circumstances outside of himself means to be vulnerable to the whims of other people and circumstances, which he frankly couldn’t care less of and are ultimately uncontrollable and unpredictable. but his thoughts and feelings and actions? those are things he can control and those are the things he anchors himself on.

[just-horrible-things]

‘Verse: Resistance Story: Unlikely Salvation, co-author @whump-sprite Timeline: Early Arc 3, Ari has just joined the Resistance

But Can You Teach Her To Think? [ First | Prev | Next ]

Reyan provides pen and paper. Ariadne just brings herself and the contents of her head – and whichever book Reyan lent her last, to hand back in like homework.

She doesn’t understand why she has reading homework.

The latest is a tatty paperback autobiography of a soldier in Russia during a war Ariadne isn’t old enough to remember. She understands enough to know that she’s supposed to have opinions on it. She’s probably supposed to be drawing parallels to something about modern America, but she doesn’t have the faintest idea what.

She’s too tired all the time for fucking… reading comprehension.

But life and obligation have never accepted tiredness as an excuse, and that’s not about to change. She does her homework. She reads what she’s given to read, and when Reyan hands it back to her she knows by now to expect the inevitable question : “So what did you think?”

“Siberia is very cold,” she says, a touch of sarcasm as close as she dares get to disrespect. “I wouldn’t want to go.” She chews the inside of her lip, searching for the right phrasing. “War is hell, I guess. They had a hard time of it.” “Were they in the right?” “The Russians?” 

Ari frowns, trying to decide if the Russians are the warlocks in this metaphor, or the feds. The book barely touched on why they were fighting, only the grim reality of trench foot and starvation rations and forced marches and all the regular atrocities of war. 

“... I don’t know. They were fighting for their homes, I guess. For their country.” “Their government told them it was necessary,” says Reyan, “and they believed.” Ah, so Ariadne’s the Russians. She nods. “They followed a lot of… unpleasant orders,” she agrees. “So did the Germans.”

Ariadne looks at Reyan blankly, unsure what her opinion is supposed to be.

How were the soldiers supposed to know what was right? They only had one side of the story, and it was all a colossal mess anyway.

“I’m not sure,” she says slowly, studying the cover of the book in Reyan’s hand, “they thought much about whether it was right or wrong. They just wanted to shoot the other guys before they got shot themselves.” “Mmh,” he says. 

He never gives her a clear answer on anything she puts forward. She hates not knowing whether she’s passing or failing these little tests.

“What did you think of the General?” “Which one? Leontyev?” Ari clasps her hands behind her back so as not to fidget while she thinks. “Not a good leader,” she decides. “He… had no respect for his people.” “He sacrificed a lot of soldiers.” “Not just that.” Sacrifices are sometimes necessary. A soldier’s job is to die on command, if that’s what the wider strategy demands. Leontyev…

She had something to say, but faced with Reyan’s expectant stare, she can’t remember it. The words fall right out of her head. 

Frustration and irritation make her skin prickle. It’s demeaning, being quizzed like a child. And maybe that’s the point, and she sure as hell doesn’t have any grounds for complaint but – it’s hard sometimes, to swallow her frustration.

No one ever said this would be easy.

The silence drags until it’s painfully obvious that she doesn’t have anything intelligent to say.

“Sit down,” Reyan says. “Let’s get to work.”

So she sits, and they get down to the differently miserable business she’s really here for.

It’s something between debriefing and interrogation. Reyan asks questions, and Ariadne talks in as much detail as she can come up with. He makes notes, or she does, or they both do.

They’ve long since covered all the concrete facts she knew he’d want when she signed up for this. Site plans and personnel lists, names and locations and plans and policies. Her intel is out of date, but it’s still a gold mine for Resistance operations.

They’ve worked through a list of agents and officials of particular interest to the Resistance, and she’s given up everything she knows. Now they’re working through a list of warlocks, and she discusses what the feds know or suspect about each one.

She’s still not sure if she’s doing the right thing.

This is easier than when she was selling out specific people, but it all leaves the same sour taste in her mouth.

People will die because she turned. People will be injured. Maybe some of them will end up broken like she is broken, jumping at shadows for the rest of their lives.

This is how she pays her way here. 

No. That’s not the reason. 

If it was just about survival, she wouldn’t do it. She’s not that selfish. If it was just about survival, she wouldn’t be here, she’d be a hundred miles away living in a small-but-comfortable apartment somewhere, working two jobs to make ends meet but safe.

This is how she pays Alex back.

She said she’d do anything and – this is it. This is what he wants. And if he thinks this is the right thing… Well, Ari sure as hell doesn’t trust herself to know right from wrong.

He says that she is providing information that will help the Resistance help more people in need, people like Alex. He says they do more good than harm. He promised that the people she sells under the bus won’t suffer the way she did.

What happened to her was… not standard operating procedure.

She has to believe him, because who the hell else can she trust?

If only believing was as easy as deciding that she’s going to.

Sometimes as she talks about the work she used to do – the torture – Reyan looks at her with such disgust that she thinks he might shock her, or throw her at the floor with his magic. 

She’ll mention the number of people interrogated about a certain POI – not because she wants to remind him but only because it’s relevant to the question at hand – and Reyan’s lip will twitch and his eyes tighten with a flat loathing that serves of a very sharp reminder of just how unwelcome she is here.

His disapproval sets her pulse racing and she hates that, she hates how frightened and cowardly she has become.

It’s not that she doesn’t deserve disgust. She has never pretended that the work she did wasn’t monstrous.

It’s just… the way he takes the moral high ground rankles, sometimes. As if his hands are clean. As if she’s supposed to forget that he tortured her, too.

She will, if that’s what’s required of her. She’ll forget. It’s a small thing to forgive, compared to everything Alex has forgiven her. 

It’s just difficult, some days. She doesn’t think forgiveness is in her nature.

Her sessions with Reyan typically take an hour and a bit, sometimes two. Most of it’s a simple exercise in recall. He usually asks her to speculate or extrapolate a little, but for the most part she’s simply dredging her memory for information – and then rating her confidence in everything she recalls.

It shouldn’t be particularly taxing. But between the intense focus and the constant, sick knot of dread and self-disgust in the pit of her stomach, the interrogations never fail to leave her feeling wrung out.

When he’s done with her, Reyan puts a new book into her hands – fiction, maybe, this time, from a brief glance at the cover? – and dismisses her. She’s more than glad to get out of his office.

She wants coffee, and to be in her own space, or maybe to run until her head is empty.

These small rituals are about all that’s left of the person she used to think she was. There’s not much else. Not loyalty, not courage, not love of her country. Not the oaths she took, not the will to fight, and certainly not conviction that she’s on the right side of history.

She isn’t sure who she is anymore, and she isn’t sure she cares enough to find out.

But Alex cares. 

Alex who meets her at the door to drive her home because he knows she’ll be tired and sulky after meeting with Reyan. Alex who chose to share an apartment with her rather than with his sister because otherwise Ariadne would be alone and vulnerable.

Alex sees something in her, some potential to be better than she is. 

She puts her faith in him.

Because if he’s right, if she does have the potential to become someone worth knowing… then maybe she wants to see that happen.

[Next]

[merianmoriarty]

Server Movie Synopsis: Evil Dead Rise

*AN: Keep in mind that these synopses will contain spoilers and may not be complete, as I rarely see the entire movie while serving for it. These synopses are just going to be fast impressions of an Alamo Drafthouse server.* 

Swoopy camera!  Lakehouse (lol is this a Halloween reference? because it feels like one...).  Unwell girl not facing camera.  Well, in this franchise, that means there’s like a 99% chance she’s One Of Them.  Spooky voice!  Yup, she is one of the Evil Dead.  Travel back in time to how the Evil got into her (the movie...seriously, that’s what the movie is about, how the Evil Dead got unleashed again in the blond girl in the cabin in the middle of the woods [guess it could be the Cabin in the Woods, too, because the Evil Dead seems like something those nuts would be betting on...]).

Rocker chick!  Pregnant?  We don’t know yet, but since this is a horror movie, probably!  Chick from all the movie posters/trailers dyeing her hair while fiddling with Chekov’s Tattoo Gun.  Kids!  Protesty-daughter, genderqueer-child, tiny-tot-who-will-probably-survive (“I would love to forget that, but it seems like the kinda thing that stays with a man forever.”).  Neighbors!  DON’T GET TOO ATTACHED.  Building is haunted?  WELL, HERE WE GO.

Earthquake.  Is that a wood-chipper?  Bank vault.  Spooky religious stuff that looks like it’s supposed to be keeping demons at bay.  Obviously, we must immediately disturb this and take the creepy skin-and-fangs-book.  ASH YOU HAD ONE FUCKING JOB, MY GUY:  KLAATU BARATA NIKTO.

Oh, good; not only did you take the spooky book from the spooky vault, you thought you should read it.  THIS IS WHY KIDS NEED BRENDAN FRASER’S NINETIES MASTERPIECE, THE MUMMY.

Evil Dead unleashed.  Great job.

Spooky instructions from the spooky bank vault tell them that a priest tried to translate the book and now he Regrets All the Things, because (as long-time franchise fans know) it takes a body and kills it, and then anything it kills after that joins it...and the only way to stop them (aside from destroying or properly sealing the Necronomicon) is to completely dismember them and seal off the place where they died so that the Evil Dead is/are trapped in that one spot with no host bodies to take them elsewhere.  Hey, remember that wood-chipper?

Try to escape!  Fail miserably!  Amalgamated monster!  Wood-chipper!

Two final girls, definitely full of trauma they should not share with therapists lest they transfer the Evil.

Featuring:  Staffne (Staffnie?), some Serious Scissors, “I GOTTA KILL THE CREEPY CRAWLIES THAT I GOT IN MY TUMMY °u°,” misuse of kitchen implements, typical Evil Dead acrobatics, surprising lack of Evil Dead lightshows, Evil Dead elevator cables instead of Evil Dead vines, Evil Dead Voice, All The Blood (Just Fountains Of The Stuff, Really, Just Everywhere), white kids with a horror-movie-typical lack of fear and good sense until way too late, and a chick who would have survived if she hadn’t noticed the aftermath of the wood-chipper and strolled right into the Evil Dead.  As short and fast-paced as the original, but with a Big Budget feel, somewhere between Evil Dead and Evil Dead 2 in terms of violence and general excess.

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

your answer made me tear up too, i don't think anyone has cared enough to ask how i've been in so long. i feel like the bad days are permanent, they seem to appear so often i just can't bear it anymore. i try to hold out hope but maybe i'm just kidding myself. i've been so sad for so long, i don't even remember how to be happy. and that makes me so sad. that the thought of passing away seems so much more of a relief than to continue living. i know for a fact i failed my exams which means i'll either have to drop out or redo my exams. which also means i won't get to do placement. and if my family knows of this, i don't think i can go through that again. i can't. the pain was way too much last time, i suppressed those memories. i'm not stong enough to go through that again. i know death is the easy way out. and i'm a coward for wanting to take it but i'm so desperate. i don't want to feel the pain anymore. the numbness, the anger, the guilt, the sadness, i can't.

i'm sorry, you feel so much more comforting than my own big sisters. i don't think they even deserve that title truthfully. but thank you for letting me rant, you don't even have to post this. i don't mind. i truly hope your day today was much lighter than mine. i hope you experienced some form of happiness today. i hope you're well. love you more than words could ever say, thank you for letting me spill my words on here. please don't feel pressured to post this. i'm sorry for how weird this ask is. i'm sorry for unloading it all on to you 💕

Don't worry, you can always rant to me. Sometimes we just need to let it out, to get it off our chests because too often we don't have anyone trustworthy to talk to openly and many wouldn't understand it either. I wish I could help you through this, I'm having similar struggles too. I actually blew up my professional life a week ago because I panicked. They wanted to give me the residency I asked for after fighting with them for months and when they gave it to me I ended up not accepting (for reasons listed bellow but also because they bind you contractually for life). I just spent the last year not even living but surviving, working nights so often I didn't feel human at all and I barely saw my family (my younger niece barely knows who i am), I don't even have friends anymore because everyone kind of just gave up on me. They didn't understand how tired I was from work, I just didn't want to do anything after work. I went from a packed covid unit to urgent care back to infectious diseases and it's been so exhausting both mentally and physically and my chronic illnesses have all gone havoc in this time and I've come to realize that even though the pay is better when you work nights and on calls, my health and general well being have no price. So when my contract is up this March I'm going to be unemployed for a bit until I find a job as a GP and that's scary as hell and no one quite understands why I left a higher paying job in a hospital 20 mins away from me by foot that I lowkey dreamed about and wished for my entire life. Guess they were right when they said be careful what you wish for...I got my wish and it cost me everything else and I was miserable. If I had the option I'd leave healthcare altogether, but my background is basically a nursing degree and then a doctor's degree so I'm stuck with it...unless I marry a richy rich dude 🤣 (can I get Charles Leclerc pls) but yeah, I understand what you're going through. Life is so fucking hard all the time and most people just have to stay up float and that's it, but people like you and me are constantly swimming against the current with chains pulling us under. (There's a song by The Pretty reckless called Under the water, I recommend you listen to it, kind of like a soundtrack to this whole thing). I refuse to believe it won't get easier one day (despite my year starting with a firework going off in my face followed by a terrible case of chicken pox that made me miss a weekend trip to Austria, making my skin awful, and now a flare up in my condition), IT HAS TO GET EASIER. Until then, please reach out to me whenever you need it. It's not a burden. Hell it's like group therapy, we can commiserate together over shitshows of the day. Can even be fun? Either way, I'm here and I'm not going anywhere yet. I'll keep fighting and I really hope you will too so that one of these days we can talk about the good things we get to see and live. I'm hoping everything happens for a reason and one day that reason will be clear. 💕

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

Yuu can do it!

Part 17

First<Previous>Next

Masterlist

When they got back to their dorm, the place was on fire. Orange, red, and yellow billowed from one of the windows on the bottom floor.

Really, they shouldn’t have been as surprised as they were. And they weren’t even that surprised.

Enma squeezed his eyes shut tight for a moment, hoping that it would make the flames disappear between blinks. But the quiet crackling sound reaching his ears told him that this wasn’t the case. “Alright, who’s gonna yell at them?”

“Grim belongs to Kuroki, so he should.”

Enma nodded. He liked that plan.

Kuroki, apparently, did not. “Hey! That is our pet, he’s not just mine.”

“Less than an hour ago you said, and I quote, ‘You’re holding my pet. Of course I’m jealous.’”

“But… I don’t wanna,” Kuroki huffed. He, truly, had such a way with words.

Enma grinned as something came to him. “Y’know… it would be good practice… Ito and I are going to be at work for at least a week while you aren’t, so you’re going to be the one taking care of him all the time.”

Kuroki’s fake pout dropped in horror.

Ito outright cackled. “Oh my god, you’re right!” And then they cleared their throat, trying to pull their face into a nicer, more pleasant expression. “I mean… it’s the job of the Housewarden to make sure their dorm members stay in line.”

“Actually, my darling Vice Housewarden, I think I will delegate this particular dorm member to you,” Kuroki said, batting his eyelashes.

Ito cursed. Enma could practically see them wracking their brain for a ‘legitimate’ reason as to why they simply couldn’t do it. He could have helped… but, frankly, he felt that speaking up at that exact moment was practically begging to be immediately ganged up on by the other two and he would rather not have to deal with Grim.

Besides, he was quickly distracted. Apparently, Ramshackle was going to surprise them today.

Deuce ran out the doors just before they could start pulling themselves up onto the porch (they didn’t trust the stairs to hold their weight), his eyes wide and frantic as he slammed it shut behind himself, leaning against it heavily as if to try and keep it from opening. “Heeeeey guys!” He said, resting his chin on his hand and clearly trying to look casual but failing miserably. “You’re back! Cool! Great, even!”

“Deuce…” sighed Enma.

The blue-haired boy cringed. “Yeeees?”

“We can see the fire from outside.”

“Ah.”

~

Somehow, it wasn’t Grim that had started the fire. Maybe they should have guessed that, considering the flames were orange instead of blue, but they had quickly come to associate fire with the monster in the forty-eight hours or so since they had met him. For obvious reasons.

Instead, it was the fault of Deuce and Ace. Who were pretty much their second guesses (‘pretty much’ only because they hadn’t known Deuce was at their house until he had burst through the doors to intercept them).

Deuce had apparently convinced Ace that he should try and do something to thank them for letting him stay over. Ace had remembered that they had mentioned income and were therefore likely to be low on funds so he had suggested they buy and try to cook something – with heavy encouragement from Grim, of course.

No one would ever know their cooking abilities, though Enma secretly doubted their skills since they just didn’t seem like the type to cook, because the dorm’s kitchen was, like everything else there, not good. Somehow, the pan had caught fire before they had even put anything in it. Grim, Ace, Deuce, and the ghosts had spent the next ten minutes before they had shown up trying to contain the fire. Deuce had tried to use wind magic, something he was apparently not as good at as Ace, and the fire had only spread.

“Okay…” Ito pinched the bridge of their nose. Partially to just keep the smoke out of it. “Well, since we don’t really know whether this is a gas fire or not, let’s try smothering it.”

“The fire is the size of the room. How the fuck are we supposed to smother it?” Kuroki groaned.

It was quiet for a moment.

And then Enma turned to Deuce. “How many cauldrons can you summon?”

Deuce lit up.

~

Good news: the fire was put out.

Bad news: their kitchen was full of cauldrons and therefore completely inaccessible.

It was silent as all of them looked at the pile of cauldrons. Honestly, Enma hadn’t thought it would work, so he hadn’t been prepared to deal with the consequences. He had thought they would have bigger problems – more ‘house on fire’-y problems, to be exact.

But now they head to deal with the newer, much more strange problem. Which was a… win? Maybe?

They had no clue whether their (cauldron-specific) summoning aficionado was able to get rid of what he had made, but it didn’t matter because Deuce had collapsed on the couch the moment the last of the fire was put out. He hadn’t moved since. Neither had anyone else, though, so they couldn’t really judge.

Ace’s hand moved for the wand hanging out of the pocket of his sweatpants and then he paused, apparently remembering the collar around his neck.

Grim caught the moment and got a (hopefully not literally) bright idea: “I could try and use my magic to –.”

Ito cut him off with a quick: “No.”

“Maybe another time,” said Kuroki.

“We just put out the fire,” Ace added.

Enma sighed. “Absolutely not.”

Grim did his best to pout. It didn’t quite work, his facial muscles weren’t made to contort like that.

It was silent for a few moments more…

“I have a party size bag of Cheeto Puffs in my duffel bag,” Ace offered.

Kuroki grinned. “That’s the best idea I’ve ever heard.”

~

Ace struggled to fit another Cheeto in his mouth. Kuroki was watching, leaning back on his hands despite the orange staining his fingers, the slightest smile on his face. Ace had brought up his record (he could stuff in about five puffs without choking) and Kuroki had called him a loser. Whether he really thought this was ‘loser behavior’ is highly debatable, everyone else was pretty sure Kuroki just wanted to see if Ace would choke just to prove him wrong.

Enma popped another in his mouth and just barely cringed at the taste. “Hey, guys, do you think the food here tastes different?”

“Oh,” said Kuroki, still not looking away from Ace. Couldn’t have him cheating, after all. “Yeah. I kinda thought I was imagining it, though. Stress makes everything all weird, y’know? Figured it was that.”

Ito looked up from where they were hovering their hand by Ace’s back in preparation for the Heimlich they would have to do. “I thought that was just because I was from another country.”

Enma shook his head. “Nah, it’s weird. Not bad. Just…” He waved a hand vaguely. “Different.”

Ito nodded their agreement. “Probably just because we’re…”

(They glanced at Ace, who’s eyes narrowed. But this might have just been because he was really concentrating on trying to get that sixth Cheeto to fit, who knows.)

“From somewhere else,” they continued carefully. “Maybe they make things different here.”

The other two nodded. That made sense. This world had magic, was it really that big of a stretch to assume that it didn’t have different foods and preparation methods?

Kuroki ran a hand through his hair, pushing it out of his eyes only for it to fall right back down. “The difference has to be something super basic, because even the canned peaches tasted off.”

“Those canned peaches were probably hundreds of years old, Kuroki,” Enma said, rolling his eyes. “I don’t know if this was the reason why those tasted off.”

“You ate –?!” Ace started, only to start something else – choking.

“Loser,” Kuroki sing-songed.

Ito sighed and shot Kuroki a Look as they started pulling Ace to his feet so they could work at unclogging his windpipe.

~

About an hour and a half before their first class was set to start, the group of six found themselves walking towards the Mirror Chamber so Ace could apologize to his Housewarden. Deuce had pointed out that it would be difficult for Ace to participate in his classes without magic – which didn’t bode well for the Yuus, considering their only access to magic was through Grim, but that was a problem for later – and that he would probably have to, at the very least, say he was sorry in order to get the collar off.

Ace had, reluctantly, agreed to try.

Grim decided that he wanted to watch the apology go down. He was very invested in this ‘soap opera’, apparently.

All of the Yuus expressed interest in wanting to go as well, even if they had very different reasons for doing so. Ito didn’t trust Ace to know how to apologize properly. Kuroki didn’t trust Grim to not burn the entire dorm down if he didn’t go with him.

Enma wanted to see what the other dorms were like. Sue him. (Don’t. They are already very poor.)

He fought back a cringe as he stepped through the mirror, but all thoughts of how strange the feeling was were quickly wiped away. Tall hedges, too high for him to properly see over, opened up on either side of them, and, if the tiny map next to the gilded mirror they had stepped through was truthful, the entirety of the area was a maze.

Deuce pulled an identical map out of his pocket and Ace patted at his clothes, only to cringe and lean over Deuce’s shoulder to look at his. There was a beat of silence as they glanced around, apparently trying to figure out where they were, and then Ace made a quiet ‘oh’ sound and pointed to the three-pronged lamppost nearby with a banner that was decorated with some kind of house crest.

Deuce’s mouth dropped into a tiny ‘o’ shape and they both pointed to a particular place on the map and then nodded in a way that felt practically conspiratorial.

Ace straightened up. “We’re heading… this way.”

And then the pair strode off with far too much confidence for two people that had been lost just a few moments prior.

The Yuus traded glances as they followed after them. For some reason, they weren’t all that confident in Ace and Deuce’s ability to navigate the maze. Probably because they had taken forever to just find out where they were.

Deuce caught onto their unease and rushed to explain: “The mirror drops us off in a different place every time.”

Ah, yeah, that explains why they were struggling – wait, what?

Enma’s eyebrows shot into his hair in surprise. That was… insane. He wanted to know how that worked.

Ito had the complete opposite reaction. Their eyebrows raised too, but in a way that seemed more disbelieving. “That sounds… terrible.”

“Yeah,” Ace said with a shrug. “Apparently it’s to keep up the theme of ‘a kingdom of madness ruled over by a queen trying to keep everything in line’ or whatever.”

“I think the person that made this place was just a dick,” said Kuroki.

“That too.”

It was quiet as they were led through the maze. Mostly just because Grim was asleep. He had passed out on Kuroki’s shoulders with nothing more than an order to wake him up when things got interesting.

Additionally, the currently awake Ramshackle residents were too stunned by the surroundings to talk much. Everything was perfectly maintained to the point where it looked almost fake. The tiles under their feet were spotless enough that walking on them felt like a crime. The lines of the hedges were perfectly straight, giving sharp edges where the plants had been cut off. Despite plants’ tendency to grow wherever they were able, there wasn’t even a single blade of grass nor weed poking through the path at their feet. The braziers and statues that they passed on occasion were a spotless white. Rose bushes, sculpted into the shape of hearts, dotted the path, the red of the roses just a little too bright.

Enma shivered.

It was beautiful, sure. A scene pulled right out of a picture book. But it was unnatural.

In the distance, growing steadily closer and closer, a building began to stretch its way above the hedges. It reminded Enma, a little, of medieval castles with its large entrance, towers, and abundance of flags. However, this ‘castle’ was decorated liberally with the shapes of hearts and diamonds, and was painted in the colors red, white, and black. He almost thought it was themed after a deck of cards at first glance, but he couldn’t find any clubs or spades so he assumed not.

Kuroki shrugged a shoulder and Grim made a snorting sound as he woke up, a puff of flames rising dangerously close to the boy’s hair, and he blinked open bleary blue eyes.

Grim huffed. “Why am I awake?”

“We’re almost at the dorms,” Ito said, jerking their chin to point at it.

Grim perked up at this and looked in the way they had indicated.

“This place is swank,” said Grim, almost reverent.

Everyone cringed.

“Who taught you that word?” Ito said, their nose still scrunched a little in disgust.

Grim turned and gave Ace an accusing glare. Ace was wearing an expression that was far too innocent to be genuine.

Enma was pretty sure that Grim was blushing beneath his fur (if he could even do that), because he rushed to try and change the subject: “Well, I think it’s unfair that their place is so much cooler than ours!”

“Ours is still in development,” Ito said lightly.

“Our place is infested with caulrdons –.”

Grim’s attempts to argue were cut off. Someone rushed past, holding a teetering pile of red paint cans tall enough to hide their face. Deuce had to jump out of the way of the temporarily blind person to avoid getting buried under a mountain of cans.

The person yelped out a quick ‘sorry’, but they didn’t glance back. Instead, their eyes traced the line of rose bushes frantically, head on a swivel as they inspected them all with a critical eye. He must have found something, because he yelped again – this time it was little more than a wordless cry – and almost dropped the cans.

He set them down with so little grace he may as well have just let them drop, revealing frazzled orange hair and a tiny red diamond on his cheek. With a start, Enma realized he actually recognized him. He was one of the people that had dragged Ace and Deuce away when they were in the mine. Trey and Cater, he remembered the Housewarden calling them, though he wasn’t sure which one this was.

Enma blinked as he watched the boy procure a paintbrush from next to where his wand sat in his breast pocket and dip it in the can. Then he turned to paint one of the roses.

His eyebrows knit. He… had a strange sense of deja vu. Which was weird, because he was pretty sure he had never seen that before, why would he have?

But…

He found himself walking closer.

“Gotta hurry gotta hurry,” the boy almost sang, but the pitch of his voice was the strange kind of highness that suggested he was a lot more scared than he was letting on. Which was pretty bad, considering he already looked pretty stressed. “Even a bit of white and I can kiss my head goodbye.”

He finished painting the rose with the vibrant red paint – which, now that he thought of it, explained why the roses looked to be such a strange shade – and turned to look around once again, only to come face to face with Enma.

The redhead blinked at him. “You need something?”

Enma’s face flushed and he backed up a step. He shouldn’t have been staring, but now he was caught so he might as well ask…

“What’re you doing?”

The boy gave him a strange look and then gestured to the paintbrush in his hand. “Painting the roses red, can’t you tell?”

“I mean… sure, but why?”

The redhead laughed a little. “Aw, it’s been a while since I’ve gotten a cute reaction like that.”

Enma blinked. Cute?

Whatever, he could take the blow to his ego if that meant he would get an answer to why his brain was screaming that the fact that this stranger was painting roses was important.

Unfortunately, the stranger’s green eyes widened and he gasped. “Wait, aren’t you one of those kids from the mine? You were there because you broke the chandelier, right? What were you thinking? Wait, no, how did you even manage that?”

He winced. “I mean… the chandelier thing wasn’t really me, I was just there…” he started to explain.

Thankfully, he got out of that conversation because the others came rushing into the tiny clearing that Enma and the person were standing in. The tension left his companions the moment they laid eyes on him and Enma realized that, maybe, wandering off while he was in a maze was a bad idea.

The moment the redhead caught sight of the others he lit up. “And these are the other ones! And, hey, one of them is the kid that got in even more trouble because he ate the dorm head's tart the same night!”

Ace tried to rub the back of his neck awkwardly but was stopped by the collar. Sad.

The person didn’t seem to agree it was sad, though. “I am so lucky to meet the infamous newcomers! Hey, c’mere, we should totally take a selfie to commemorate this.”

He pulled out his phone (it had an odd case, with cartoony diamonds and comic-style speech bubbles) and, with a quick, practiced motion, turned it to selfie mode. The group of six were definitely not prepared, and the only person that even managed to smile in time was Ito, who was cheating because they were just amused by the strange case.

But whatever, the camera snapped and their mild shock and confusion was captured for the world to see.

The strange boy straightened and pulled his phone closer to himself, his fingers flew across the screen, testing out filters and effects with a speed Enma could barely comprehend. “Can I post this to Magicam?”

(Enma opened his mouth to ask what that was, but Kuroki elbowed him in the side and shook his head just slightly. He scowled, his mouth snapping shut. And, sure, based on context clues it was obviously some kind of social media, but that doesn’t tell him the specifics, now does it, Kuroki?)

“Tell me your names so I can put you in the tags,” Cater said, not waiting for an answer as to whether he could post them.

“Uhhhhhhhhh,” said Deuce smartly. And then he blinked once, apparently done buffering. “Deuce Spade.”

“Ace.”

“Grim! And these are my henchmen, the Ramshackle kids!”

“God, we sound like a 90s band,” Ito commented, idly gathering the paint cans on the ground. Seemingly just to have something to do.

“I’m Kuroki Yuuya. This is Enma Yuuken and Ito… wait, do I know your last name?”

“Morales.”

“Mo-Mowawe– why is your name so difficult to say?”

Ito shrugged unconcernedly.

The stranger’s eyebrows knit together as he typed on his phone. “None of you are showing up…”

“We don’t have Magicam,” Enma explained politely, because that was a lot easier to explain than ‘we got shot in here from another dimension without any of our things so we couldn’t have social media if we tried’.

The boy gasped and rested a hand on Enma’s shoulder. “You’re in that old, rundown dorm, right? You have my sympathy.”

Enma was unsure if he should be offended or not. He was too busy trying to figure out why the subject had changed so abruptly.

He eventually decided on the safest response: “... thanks?”

This must have been correct, because the strange stranger pulled his hand back with a sage nod and then lit up with a smile as he clicked on his phone once more. “Aaaand done!” He pocketed his phone, but didn’t bother removing the hand from his pocket after. “I should probably introduce myself. I’m Cater Diamond, a third-year, but you can just call me Cater. Or CayCay if you’re feeling cray-cray!”

Ito was only half paying attention, they were squinting at one of the cans and mouthing something to themself. They were aware enough to speak, though. “Kk,” they said absently. And then their eyes widened. “Wait, no –.”

It was too late, Kuroki and Ace were already laughing at them. They pouted and seemed to heavily consider throwing the can at the friends that were daring to laugh at their mistake.

Cater gave an amused little smile. “I said you could call me that, yes… Ito-chan, was it?”

Kuroki frowned. “Don’t call them that. They don’t know you’re being condescending, that’s just wrong.”

(Bold words from someone that was half-hiding behind Ace while he said it, but okay.)

“I’m not being condescending,” Cater said lightly. “I think all you little freshmen are so cute –!”

“Condescending? What does the ‘-chan’ thing mean?” Ito piped up, raising their hand like a schoolkid. Which they were, admittedly, but whatever.

Kuroki sighed. “It’s like… kinda like calling you cute and young? I don’t know if there’s really a way to explain it other than that.”

Ito snorted. “Oh. Then, yeah, you can’t call me that. Or, I mean, you can, but… that’s like calling me ‘ChanChan’... or ‘ItoIto’... weird, yeah?”

“Hm?” Enma said, because what?

“It sounds like ‘-chan’ is basically what Mex–... it’s a lot like adding ‘ito’ or ‘ita’ to someone’s name,” Ito explained, grinning.

Kuroki grinned. “So you’ve basically just been calling yourself ‘-chan’ this whole time? Seems a little presumptuous, yeah?”

(“Grim-chan calls himself Grim-sama and you think that’s presumptuous?” Deuce teased. And then he yelped and ducked under a fireball that was sent his way.)

Ito rolled their eyes. “I didn’t call myself that. I used to be… er, if my birth name had actually been Jules, then it would have started with Julito. And then it got shortened to Lito. And now I’m just Ito.”

Ace mouth dropped open. “This changes everything,” he said overdramatically, hand pressed to his heart. “You’ve been lying to us this whole time! What if – what if you’re not even actually a human! You could be a demon in disguise!”

Ito flicked him in the shoulder. Ace pretended to have been shot, stumbling back with a loud gasp and leaning on Kuroki heavily for support. Kuroki stepped back and watched him fall into the grass with a soft ‘oof’.

Cater, who had been watching them with a strange look on his face, slowly began to grin. “Wait, Ito-chan. If I call you that then you can be ChanChan and I can be CayCay.”

“That’s terrible. I love it.”

Cater smiled, and this one was different than the smiles he had given before. His eyes crinkled a lot more.

But, as quickly as the expression had appeared, it was gone when his eyes caught on the paint cans and widened. “Shit, what am I doing? I don’t have time for all this talking!” He gathered up the paint cans Ito had been messing with and looked around, apparently back to looking for roses to paint. “I need to get this done by tomorrow…” His eyes caught on the group of six and narrowed in a way that Enma couldn’t really decipher. And then he lit up with another bright grin. “Well, since you’re all here, do you think you could help me paint the roses?”

Enma suddenly remembered why he had been talking to Cater in the first place. “Sure, if you explain why you’re doing it.”

Cater shrugged. “Just gotta. Simple as that. Gotta paint the roses red for the party, gotta color the flamingos for the croquet match…”

“Why are your chores so weird?” Said Grim.

Cater shoved a paint can and brush into a mildly confused Kuroki’s hands. “Just how it is! I don’t make the rules, I just follow them! Otherwise I lose my head!”

Enma’s eyes widened briefly before he remembered that, right, the housewarden for Heartslabyul had a spell that collared people that used that name. Still a panic-inducing name, though.

“So the tart Ace ate was for a birthday party…” Deuce said, smacking his friend upside the head.

Ace strung together a frankly impressive number of curses, but he was ignored.

Ito shook their head slowly, frowning. “No wonder he was so upset!”

“Nope! Not a birthday! An Unbirthday,” Cater ‘corrected’. ‘Corrected’ in quotations because there was no way that was correct.

Kuroki’s eyebrows shot into his hair. He started looking around. “Unbirthday party?” He repeated, something strange hidden within his expression.

“What’s that?” Deuce said, frowning.

“Yep! It’s a tradition in our dorm! The dorm’s leader will choose a random day that’s no one’s birthday, and we’ll all have a tea party!” Cater said. Then, he reached out and patted Deuce on the top of the head. “Which you should know, as a member of the dorm. Didn’t you read the pamphlet?”

“Uh…” Deuce said, glancing at Ace for help. Ace was too busy whistling innocently to do so.

Cater laughed. “Well, nevermind that, we’ve got roses to paint.”

“Why would we help you?” Ace said, admittedly rather rudely.

Their senior’s eyes crinkled, but this time it wasn’t at all kind. Enma was suddenly reminded of the night before, when he had helped drag Ace and Deuce off to get punished without remorse.

“Because you wouldn’t want our darling Housewarden to realize you haven’t read the pamphlet, right?”

Both boys paled.

“Roses? I can paint those in my sleep!”

“Honestly, I dream about painting roses. It’s my favorite pastime.”

~

Enma thought it would probably be faster if Cater had just done it himself. Ace and the three Yuus were not particularly fast when it came to painting, but at least that kind of made sense. Cater could focus on other bushes while the four of them went one at a time, carefully making sure each individual petal was coated enough to look red at every angle.

(And why were the Yuus helping? If anyone ever questioned them, they would say it was because they couldn’t leave until Ace and Deuce were done being blackmailed and helping would make that go faster. But that wasn’t the truth. They had just gotten dragged into it.)

As for Grim and Deuce… well, Cater ended up pretty much just going over all their flowers himself to make sure they were all the right color. And putting out fires. And explaining how exactly appearance-changing magic worked millions of times. And –...

Long story short, it definitely wasn’t working out for him. See, kids? Laziness doesn’t pay. Remember that.

But whatever. With five people working on it (and two people working against them, but let’s not talk about that) they managed to finish the section. Eventually.

Enma tossed his paintbrush into the nearest empty can and craned his neck from side to side with a quiet groan. He’d been in one position too long and now everything hurt. Why does life hate him so?

“Wow, you guys are even worse at this than I thought you’d be,” Cater said.

He was almost definitely just teasing Deuce and Grim, but Ace took it personally for some reason: “Well, I think the roses should be left white, anyways. They’re pretty as is! Changing the color is stupid.”

Cater shrugged. “What can I say? It’s tradition. The Queen of Hearts herself came up with all of our rules, so we have to stick to them. Especially since Riddle...” He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Is particularly passionate about following them, to say it lightly.”

Ah, he’s a tyrant, Enma translated. Fun.

“Speaking of…” Cater said slowly, his eyes narrowing in that shrewd way once again. “I don’t see any tarts on you.”

Ace frowned. “Of course not. I got here first thing, so I don’t really have anything…?”

“No, yeah, that makes sense, but rule 53 says ‘one must always return what they steal’ so, unfortunately, I can’t let you in.”

Enma and Kuroki might have been snickering at Ace’s misfortune, but no one can prove that. Except for Ito, but they were complicit seeing as they helped cover their friends’ mouths instead of chastising them.

“Sorry about this,” Cater said, not sounding sorry at all. “But if you’re part of the dorm you have to obey the rules. I’ll be losing my own head if I help you get in, and we should avoid as much suffering in the world as possible, don’t you think? So, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

Ace’s eyes widened as Cater drew his wand again and he looked around frantically. His gaze skipped over the three who were definitely not going to be of much help to him even if they wanted to (which, guessing by the fact that all three Yuus were already sitting down in preparation to watch a fight, they did not want to help), and caught on Deuce and Grim.

“Help me.”

Deuce yelped as he was quite literally latched onto. “What? Why the hell are you dragging me into this?”

“I don’t have magic, please.”

Cater’s form seemed to flicker and then, to everyone’s surprise and maybe slight horror, he began to duplicate.

“They’re fucked,” said Kuroki, who seemed to be rifling through their bag for the leftover Cheetos they had definitely not stolen from Ace.

Ito made a hissing sound through their teeth when Deuce’s cauldron was sent right back his way. It bowled him over and they didn’t see him again.

“Ooh that’s gotta hurt. Anyways. Can I have one?”

Kuroki, kind and generous person that he was, gave Ito an entire handful. Everyone ignored the loud ‘Fuck!’ that Ace screamed as he was thrown back into a hedge by a blast of fire magic.

Enma hummed, hand out for a Cheeto of his own. “I wonder if they all use the same stamina.”

“We could ask,” suggested Kuroki, shrugging as he set a few in Enma’s palm as well.

“CayCay!” Ito yelled over the sound of Grim attempting to tear a Cater apart with his teeth. “Can you – er… one of you come here?”

“Yeah!” One of the Caters ran over, looking not at all winded. “What’s up, Ito-chan?”

“Enma has questions.”

The Cater smiled. “Oh! Sure! Can I have a Cheeto while we talk, though?”

Kuroki huffed, but he did hand over a single Cheeto.

This apparently satisfied the Cater, because he beamed and popped it into his mouth.

He sat down beside Enma and gave a tiny wave of his hand to tell him he could start asking questions.

Enma opened his mouth…

~

“– we can’t use too much magic as a collective, otherwise we accumulate a bunch of blot really quickly.”

“What is blot, anyways?” Enma said, remembering Crowley had mentioned it offhand.

The Cater grinned, hands in his pockets as they walked towards the nearest mirror. “It’s like… being really tired, but more. My sisters used to tell me that if I got too much blot I would turn into this big, evil monster, but…”

“Older siblings,” Ito said, nodding sagely.

The Cater nodded his agreement. “You’ve got some?”

“Nah, I am the older sibling. I used to tell one of my little sisters that the light reflecting off the sparkles on her shirt were ghosts.”

“Ah. Classic.”

“Right?”

“Hey,” Deuce cut into the conversation. “Are you guys going to help us?”

Kuroki glanced back at where Deuce, Ace, and Grim were getting dragged along by Caters. “What do you expect us to do?”

“Not be chatty with our attacker, for one!”

Enma shrugged. “He’s nice.”

“He is not,” scoffed Ace. “He should have turned us away the moment he saw we didn’t have a tart! But he didn’t! Because he wanted to make us paint roses for him first!”

“Nice doesn’t necessarily mean kind,” Enma said.

And then he looked back at the Cater that they had kind of befriended. “Anyways. Cater-senpai. I was wondering how Unique Magics can affect people. Do they match personalities? Is it just random?”

The Cater shrugged and made a so-so motion with his hand. “There’s a lot of debate about it. ‘What comes first, the chicken or the egg?’ kinda thing, if you catch my drift.”

Enma hummed. He wished he had a notebook to write everything down in.

“Makes sense you got to duplicate then, you two-faced bitch,” Ace spat.

The Caters all seemed to find their kouhai’s pettiness amusing (Thankfully. That was rude, Ace. You deserve to be dragged on the ground). The Cater holding Ace shook him a little before pulling him to his feet. “Big words from someone who’s getting kicked out.”

And then Ace was almost quite literally kicked out, pushed through the mirror they had finally arrived at.

The Caters gave waves that felt mocking even when they weren’t pointed at Enma, so Ace must have been fuming on the other side of the mirror.

Deuce and Grim were allowed to stand on their own.

Grim forwent this choice, instead going to settle himself around the back of Kuroki’s neck as usual.

Deuce slunk through the mirror, head down and ears bright red, apparently embarrassed at having lost so horribly.

The obvious threats either gone – or neutralized by sleepiness, in Grim’s case – the Caters combined back into one person in a shimmer of strange light. The Cater smiled and waved at the Ramshackle residents. “It’s been nice meeting you guys!”

Enma nodded. “We should get to our first class. Being late on our first day sounds… not great.”

“It wouldn’t bode well, no,” Cater said with a light laugh.

“We’ll be back later!” Ito chirped, waving as they all stepped through the mirror one at a time. Cater waved after the group, smiling.

“With a tart this time, hopefully!”

Whatever colorful response Ace was going to spit after him was lost, because the bell rang.

“FUCK,” yelped Kuroki. Which, yeah, that summarized the situation pretty much perfectly.

And so, their senior’s laughter echoing along the hallway, the group of first years began to sprint to their homeroom class.

[mamagabi-s-corner]

you know what? fucking story time..

tw for mentions of suicide

i am depressed af, like severely depressed to the point of wanting to end my miserable existence because life's just not worth living. my parents, who are medical workers mind you, do not believe in mental health.. at all.. 2016 used to be a breaking point for me, so much so that I remember venting to my dad about me being depressed.. he disregarded it at first as me 'having a target on my back'. it took me ugly crying in public to take me a bit seriously and get me some mental help.. my first session was terrible, but I persevered and kept going.. until one day, my mother literally said to me, that ever since I started therapy, that I became extremely aggressive.. she took me being assertive as aggression.. so I stopped going.. and then it turned into a cycle of constant relapses.. I would get better, only to nosedive back into depression. I was silently suffering.. this went on for several years, until 2022 rolled around.. when I took a psych test which my at the time job required me of.. only to end up failing it.. they deemed me incapable of work, and I was immediately fired from my job. You could imagine the emotions I was feeling at the time.. I broke down really bad.. i said my goodbyes and left.. when I got home, my mom, whom has mellowed out a bit over the years, was genuinely worried, and asked dad if he could hook me up with a psychologist. he did, and I did some tests.. turns out that I have borderline clinical depression. I even had to go talk to a psychiatrist in a hospital to determine my capability to work a normal fucking job. spoilop alert, with a diagnosed anxiety and bcd, I am, in fact, capable of working a normal job.

while I did find a new job at the beginning of this year, the workload has been quite overwhelming, and my mental health took yet another nosedive, the entire canon event got my parents to take mental health (a bit) seriously..