#which again is more interesting than just waiting for a lie to pay off

[irenespring]

It appears I have once again failed to notice the obvious "villainous character may have been fake crying in impactful interaction with other character for manipulation" option, probably for autism reasons. However, I will maintain that I was also right to ignore it because it's less interesting than the alternative.

Like I get the whole "ooohh incoming plot twist/betrayal" intrigue but come on. Look me in the face and say that's more compelling than the "character who has before shown no convincing empathy is suddenly hit exactly in their empathy weak spot and has no idea how to deal." Especially a schemer character who is used to perfectly controlling themselves. Now they have a weakness! That's a problem for them! It throws a wrench in their plans and they have to adapt! That's more fun than the villain's plan going off perfectly, surely.

[lexcys]

★ observing rafe cameron x reader

summary: you were trying everything to hide the fact that you couldn’t stop staring at rafe, unbeknownst to you - he was secretly hoping you were

a/n: this is a surfer!rafe x shy!reader btw!! also this is like pretty much my first ever fanfic so I have no idea what the fuck I am doing so sorry if this is literal ass 😭 no mention of a fem!reader besides the fact that the womans bathroom gets entered

you felt the heat of the sun on your skin as you stepped out of the twinkie. the soft crash of the distant waves barely audible over the hum of the pogues voices

stepping onto the beach, a surge of excitement hits you. the day you and the pogues have been counting down to all week has finally arrived

you take one final glance into your bag, double-checking for anything you might have forgotten—sunscreen, snacks, a book, and a few other trinkets, satisfied you make your way over to your usual spot ready to take off your tshirt and shorts which hid your swim wear underneath, until you spotted someone out of the corner of your eye

rafe cameron

somehow the kooks had managed to pick the exact same date, place and time to visit the beach as you and your friends

while the others were hastly running towards the water stripping on the way down, paying no attention to the kooks, kie stayed back waiting for you

she was already in her bikini while your clothes weren’t even close to leaving your body and landing on the ground

''you coming?'' she asked, hand on her forehead shielding her from the burning sun

''umm'', taking a quick glance around you searched the beach in a, hopefully, unsuspicious way trying to locate rafe again

glancing down you turned your gaze elsewhere, you hoped the sudden heat entering your body was from the sun and not from the sight of rafe taking his shirt off

''I’ll join you guys later, I’m a little dizzy right now'', you spoke swiftly looking up at her, hoping to not get caught in the little white lie

all though kie nodded, the flicker of confusion in her eyes and a quick look behind you told you all you needed to know

you had never verbally stated your attraction to the him but you were pretty sure almost anybody could’ve guessed with the way you tensed up or seemed quieter and clumsier whenever he was in close proximity

taking off your top and shorts you shot a look over to the pogues who were already splashing and practically drowning each other. you giggled while settling down onto your beach towel before applying sunscreen and laying down on your stomach with a book in hand

even though your book was very interesting, the sight in front of you was much more enticing

rafe was currently riding a pretty common wave, yet you found yourself unable to stop staring

you adjusted your book hoping to hide the fact that you were practically ogling at the cameron boy

he was far enough out that you couldn’t make out the details but you still caught the way his hair stuck to his face, the way his body twisted with the rythm of the wave and the way he… kept turning his head towards you?

it seemed like he was looking for you, looking to see if you were watching him

cheeks burning, you try to push your delusions aside trying to find the passage you were reading earlier

you take another peek at him and by the the time you do, he was already out of the water, walking towards his friends with the biggest fucking grin, beaming with pride and confidence, already seeming to rave about the wave he just rode

hearing jj’s laugh you swiftly adjust and pretend to be reading your book that was definitely more interesting than staring at rafe’s wet body and stupid grin

while jj kept whining about how john b, supposedly, almost drowned him they both settled down on your left, luckily on the side where the kooks were lounging

fortunately he also kept talking which meant you were able to peep right past his face and steal short glances towards rafe

it was almost impossible for you to keep your eyes off of him. it didn’t matter where you would see him, you were always stealing glances or simply staring at him from a distance. others could call this stalking but you liked to call it observing, you liked watching him, but not in a creepy way, more so you were admiring him, he was pretty

you liked his side profile, the way his bangs framed his face, the way his eyes looked in the sun, the way his shirts hung onto his fit body - you noticed the way he was very articulate with his hands, which were always adorned with the same two rings, the way the corner of his lips turned downwards whenever he tried not to smile

noticing him facing you, eyeing your group, the staring quickly stopped

at this point the distance between the two groups was too small for your liking because of course the kooks had to settle down as closely as possible to the pogues - it was somehow impossible for them to keep their distance

given the short distance, whenever you actually were brave enough to look again it seemed like he was meeting your gaze, trying to maintain eye contact

heart beating way too fast and cheeks burning, you turn away from jj trying to initiate a conversation with sarah, who was sitting on your right

after a while of, luckily, managing to keep your head from spinning towards him, to meet his gaze - aside from the occasional looks to jj or john b whenever they were contributing to the conversation - you were desperate to get up, to empty your bladder

you dreaded getting up, fully aware that the beach bar was situated just behind the kooks, it meant walking past rafe and the mere thought of that unnerved you - every step would make you acutely aware of your surroundings, mind racing, until the very thought of moving felt like it might turn your legs into jelly

examining the scene quickly you notice half of the kooks gone, including rafe, they must’ve left when you weren’t looking - you feel a weight being lifted off your shoulders while also immediately feeling a certain misery overtaking you

this unrequited crush was spiraling out of control

strutting over to the bar you take notice of ruthie with another girl sitting at one of the tables and kelce talking to the bartender seeming to be cracking jokes instead of ordering

walking past them you try to keep your gaze relatively low to avoid any sort of interaction. turning into the small hallway of the bar you exhale a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding

the calmness doesn’t last long because as you round the corner to reach the toilets you spot him, standing in front of the mens bathroom, phone in hand and looking quite bored

before you get the chance to look away he lifts his head and notices you, he smiles - you smile back, a very awkward smile

relatively quickly you turn your head away and enter the women’s bathroom. your head becoming a blur, suddenly already washing your hands ready to leave the bathroom

he must’ve left already, right?

''topper are you fucking coming, man?!'', you catch rafe through the door

your plan of immediately leaving and paying him no mind, began to falter two seconds after stepping out of the bathroom

''hey, y/n'', you hear from behind you, shit

you freeze up for a second, caught off guard, before composing yourself and turning around

immediately drawn to him, you couldn’t help but notice the way his hair had dried in quite a messy way, his slightly squinted eyes and the slight smirk splayed across his face

''how are you?'' he questions before you had the chance to greet him back

''I’m doing fine'', you manage to exclaim, nearly tripping over your words before adding the usual ''and you?''

you dig in your mind trying to recall the last time you’d exchanged words beyond the usual "hi" or "hey''

''ditto'',

apparently not completely satisified with your answer, he regards you for a moment, the stare causing a warmth to creep up your neck as you shifted uneasily

''why did your friends leave you all alone over there?'', rafe inquired with a raised brow - a hint of curiosity in his tone, ''they seemed to be enjoying themeselves''

letting out a soft exhale you answer him, attempting to maintain eye contact but faltering almost immediately, ''I wasn’t feeling so good'' was all you manage to muster before adding the word, ''dizzy'' in a rather whispered voice, as you lied through your teeth, hoping he wouldn’t see through it

if he did, he didn’t let on ''are you feeling better now?’'

you nod quickly, meeting his gaze

looking up at him with those almost innocent eyes, he can’t help but offer, ''are you sure? I can get you a glass of water'', an unrecognisable sweetness laced his voice, softening his usual edge

taken aback by his unexpected offer you hesitate before denying his offer by simply shaking your head

he let out a quiet snort, a hint of amusement in his eyes as he watched you struggle to give a simple answer

''what book were you reading?'', he asked, his smirk widening as he leaned further back into the wall, clearly amused at the way the conversation was turning into a playful interrogation, as if he found some strange satisfaction in making you squirm just a little bit

you froze, your mind going blank, searching for the title before realising you genuinely couldn’t remember, maybe because you weren’t actually reading the book

like a savior, topper emerged from the bathroom, a flicker of confusion passing across his face as he scanned the scene before moving past you both, muttering a quiet "let’s go," clearly directed at rafe

for a split second, it looked like frustration crossed rafe’s face, fleeting before you could overthink it, flashing you a smile he pushed himself off the wall and made his way past you

but before he completely disappeared out of view, he turned back with a smirk and called over his shoulder,

''hope you enjoyed the show earlier''

oh

[lemonade4wanda]

Devotion

Final part of the craving you series

Dark! Wanda Maximoff x reader

Minors dni!! Masterlist°•☆

Summary-your living in Wandas house, she pays your wage and the bills, she takes care of you.. would it be so bad to step back and only be hers

Warnings- manipulation, dark! Wanda, obsessive Wanda, unhealthy obsession, potential Stockholm syndrome?, not proofread!!, snappy Wanda, coercion,

Wordcount - 1.3k

A/n- obviously this is the last chapter for the craving you story :( I rlly enjoyed writing smthng different for once and again I'm srry it took so long to get out :(( !! The main story is over but I will write drabbles or headcannons if anyone's interested <3

Wanda was finally at peace. A blissful weight off her shoulders she hadn't felt in months since meeting you. For the first time in what felt like her years she could sleep the whole night through without worrying about you, your whereabouts or who you could be with. This new found bliss was all because her plan to isolate and make you hers was finally falling into place like pieces of a puzzle, a satisfying finish. She had you in watching distance 24/7 and when she didn't, she wasn't more than twenty feet away. You slept with her, the guest rooms which had been under 'renovations' since you arrived in her home had to be completely redone again after she told you they found plenty of black mold inside them, just one of the many ways she'd managed to keep you close without making you suspicious. She'd even gone as far as to cut wires in your car so you'd both have to go in her car to work, she just wanted you safe after all.

After about a week at Wanda's your cats had somehow re appeared aswell, unscathed and well fed. You'd been heading out to her car for work when you'd seen the two lay together next to a hedge, Nixie protectively infront of Milo in a motherly sort of way. Obviously you were ecstatic and swept the two up quickly to show Wanda who did her best to look surprised at the re appearing cats.

"Wow.. how could they ever end up here?.." She knew you were stupid naive enough to fall for what she said even when she barely hid the truth from you. In actual fact the cats had been in the room next to you all this time you'd just never thought to question what could lie behind the other doors in Wanda's house.

To be honest you never really questioned her, not anymore atleast. It felt wrong to not do as she asked when she was letting you and your two cats stay rent free with her. I mean she was such a good person almost angelic in your view these days. You could barely remember the time where she'd had you on your knees begging for your job, all you could think off was the warmth, safety and comfort she provided to you without repayment.

Wanda had planned for this to happen. That by being around her so much you would begin to feel like you owed her, as if she saved your life. Which she did but she was also the reason it had needed saving to begin with. Oh, if it wasn't for her you'd still be living your lonely mundane life all alone. She took great pleasure in watching the change in your behaviour to her. From fear to adoration. The way you began to need her almost crave her presence in a way she had craved you. She saw the glint in your eye when it was time for bed and you knew you'd get to lie next to her the whole night. She saw the way you waited on her every need like a puppy trying to please its owner.

Though this was a good progress to making you hers. Her personal doll. It wasn't quite enough for Wanda. She wanted more. She wanted to make you see there was no point to work when you had no bills to pay. Get you to stop searching for a new place to stay and stop your income therefore making you further dependent and indebted to her. She wanted you to be a good little stay at home who waited by at the door for her and hated being separate from her. She needed you to become this. She also knew no job meant you wouldn't have any excuses to be out without her eyes on you at all time. It meant you couldn't find someone else to replace her. She should be the only person in your life.

She brought it up during dinner one night just to see how you'd react to such an idea.

"So darling, I've been thinking and wouldn't it be much less stressful for you if you didn't work? I mean its not like you have bills to pay." She played around with the steak on her plate aimlessly pushing it around as she asked you.

"Well.." You gulped unsure what to say. To not work is a dream really but you need money to find a new place and eventually pay back Wanda's kindness. "That sounds really nice but without a job I'd be under your feet forever." You miss the look of excitement which crosses her face at that prospect. If you next to her. Forever. "And I'd never be able to pay you back for your generosity."

Wanda's eye twitched ever so slightly at your response. Of course someone as sweet as you would unintentionally set her off course by wanting to be helpful. It was so cute that she was hardly bad but it had made it hard for her to make any further argument.

"You don't have to pay me back sweetheart. And property is much too expensive for someone like you right now. I mean I just want what's best for you after all." Her hand finds place over yours and gently rubs over your soft and delicate skin.

What she'd said had made your head hurt and all your thoughts go mushy in your brain. She just wanted what was best for you and obviously someone like Wanda knew a lot about what would be right. So maybe she was.. maybe her idea would be helpful for you.

"Uh.. I.. I mean I just don't want to be so... useless." As you uttered those words Wanda felt as though her heart could shatter. You were not useless. Especially not to her. You were her reason to breath. Her sigh of relief. Hers. Her saviour.

"Don't talk about yourself like that." Her voice snappy in a way which made you feel small under her hardening gaze which threatened your every move.

"I'm.. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to.."

"I know you didn't. Don't apologise, just eat and stop troubling your little mind."

Dinner was fairly silent after that and so was the rest of the evening. You curled up in a chair near the fireplace and Wanda tapping away on her computer almost purposely avoiding looking at you. For you the opposite, you felt you couldn't look away from her beauty wanting to admire her. The pair of reading glasses perched on her nose that kept sliding off and her hair, oh her hair, the way she kept waving her hands through it everytime something annoyed her was so satisfying and hot?...

Night soon fell and you climbed into bed next to Wanda. An enjoyable time for the both of you and yet another moment where Wanda held all the control. Every night just as you fell asleep she made sure to turn down the thermostat so you'd have no choice but to curl into her body and snuggle into the heat that radiated off her. She was particularly fond of when you fell into a deep sleep, when she got to plant soft kisses against you and perhaps more? When she got to see you up close as peaceful as ever. When she'd whisper concerning sweet things into your ears without you even moving an inch.

"Your mine, aren't you sweet girl? Yeah that's it dont even question what I'm saying."

Tonight felt different to you, as you chambered into the left side of Wanda's four poster King sized bed you thought to yourself about what she'd said at dinner. Would it really be so bad to quit your job? Would it be so bad just to stay here with her and the cats? I mean her mansion did have everything you'd ever need so you could hardly even imagine becoming bored. And.. I mean Wanda suggested it so she mustn't mind the idea.. Hmmm she's probably right. She has been so far.

Taglist: @stayevildarling @reginassweetheart @alexawynters @your-my-mission @witchmaximoff @imjustvibingsworld

[satancopilotsmytardis]

Holding Out for a Hero Villain

Pairing: Shigadabi

Rating: T

Contents: Non-graphic mentions of mass murder including of children, suggestive dialogue

Getting caught with a sleeping quirk was not what he was expecting, but Dabi wakes with his hands completely encased in quirk-neutralizing cuffs and locked in an interrogation room and that is pretty much what he expected if he ever got brought in, so that’s something he supposes. He leans back in the chair. He doesn't feel any extra bumps or bruises that might indicate they took a blood sample, but they definitely could have taken hair or swabbed his cheek. He doesn't feel like he's been asleep for longer than seven hours, but the quirk could have a different feel than normal sleep. He assumes that means that they are likely in the process of verifying his identity. Which means--

It's absolutely not a surprise when Endeavor, Hawks, and some cop come into the room as he leans back in his chair and waits. And yeah, Enji's eyes are going over his face desperately, like he's looking for any trace of Toya that might be left and all Dabi can do is give him a vicious grin before he turns his attention to Hawks. 

"Blowing your load a little early, aren't you, birdy? Guess being the fastest hero isn't always a good thing, is it?" 

His wings don't even twitch, but Dabi has been around him for long enough to know that when the spy is holding himself that rigidly, it's because he is trying to keep his mask on. "Dabi, or should we say 'Toya'? Good to see you again, man." 

He shrugs, not paying any attention to Endeavor. This isn't how his reveal was supposed to go and he is not going to start in on him when he can't back the words up with his flames at the moment. "Call me what you want, doesn't matter. You're going to let me out soon enough anyway." 

The cop takes lead next, moving to sit across from him at the table. "You seem confident in that, but you are an A-ranked villain, Mr. Todoroki. Surely you know that we have a vested interest in keeping you here before your relocation to Tartarus." 

"Oh sure," he agrees. "And you are?" 

"My apologies, Detective Tsukauchi." 

"The living lie-detector! Huh, nice to meet you." Hawks can't quite keep his wings from giving an aborted little twitch at that. Dabi doesn't react to it. Hawks had definitely not given him information about Tsukauchi, but their PLF members in the police force certainly had. He's never been more pleased that he decided to take the ribbing from the rest of the League after Deika by showing up 'empty-handed' after going off to recruit again in favor of keeping the double agent as out of the loop as possible. Endeavor tenses too, and he is thrilled to have already put them on their back foot just by knowing more than they expected him to. He reclines as much as he can in his chair. The fact his ankles are chained down is the only reason his feet aren't on the table. 

"I didn't realize my reputation would proceed me." The detective gives him a placid smile. "Can you elaborate on why we would let you out given your... extensive list of crimes?" 

"Because if you don't then you're going to watch Japan fall apart around you." He waits to see if the detective spots a lie, however he manages to do so with his quirk. 

"Hmm, well until then, we have some other questions that we'd like to ask you." 

Dabi settles in. Mostly ignoring them as he starts to count the very faint ticks he can hear from the detective's watch. He's not giving them anything else. Now he just has to wait. 

///

The trio left after about an hour of him stonewalling them and Dabi did his best to just doze again in the chair. He's gonna have so much to catch up on once he's out, that he's damn certain that getting the extra sleep will be more helpful than not. 

It feels like maybe another two hours have passed before Endeavor and Tsukauchi come back into the room, his father definitely a little paler than he usually is beneath his flames, the fire of his mask flickering the way it does when he's agitated enough to be having some difficulty controlling it. 

"Already? I thought you'd hold out at least a day." He had been settling in for a week at minimum with torture, but he'll take whatever he can get. 

"Sekoto Peak is gone." 

Which. Oh. Okay. Dabi blinks. That's not what he expected his father to say, but still, "That's wild. So are you taking the cuffs off now or after you let me back onto the street?" 

"We're not letting you go," Enji growls. 

"Okay. I'm going back to sleep then." 

"You don't seem very surprised about this. Were you aware that this attack was coming?" 

"That wasn't an attack, that was a warning shot." He yawns. 

"A 'warning shot'?" 

He hums, "He's giving you a chance to stop being stupid and let me go before he escalates." 

"Shigaraki? He didn't come for any of the other members of the League that we've captured, why would you be any different?" 

"I'm his favorite." It is funny to see his father glance at the detective to see if he's telling the truth. "You let me go, or what happens next is on you." He shoots a vicious smile at Enji, "Not that you've ever cared about the consequences of your inaction before." 

They try to wheedle out anything else they can from him, but he doesn't give an inch until they leave. 

///

It's only an hour before Hawks and the detective return, Hawks' feathers shining because they've gone sharp with his fury. 

Dabi waits for them to speak with a lazy grin. 

"Endeavor isn't here because his home, the hospital that your mother was located at, and the school your sister works at were destroyed." 

"Oh, that was a big hospital wasn't it? And Fuyumi's a grade-school teacher isn't she? Man, that must have sucked for her. I wonder if she tried to hold any of her students together before they crumbled into dust." 

"This isn't funny, Dabi!" The bird loses his temper. Always been able to get him furious by just barely laying on his buttons. "Two hundred children and five hundred people are dead."

"Yeah they are, and that's entirely on you, birdy. You could have kept playing ball and I still wouldn't have given you anything, but you wouldn't have the blood of seven hundred civilians on your hands." He considers. "Did Rei and Fuyumi survive?" 

"They didn't." It's a lie, and not even a good one. The bird's wording of the casualties gave too much away. His father would only not be here because he suddenly had no choice but to very publicly take care of his family in the wake of a tragedy.  

"Well isn't that interesting." Because if they did survive, if Duster decided to start with those places, then that means the treatments have progressed well ahead of schedule. "Are you letting me out now? Or do you want to see how much more damage he can do?" 

"We're preparing your transfer to Tartarus." The detective tells him. "We'll complete your interrogation there and move forward with pursuing a trial." 

"Okay, then everything else is on your hands too." 

///

He's not expecting the next person who opens the door to the interrogation room. Dabi had thought that it would be the police, heroes, whoever they found to escort him to the transport or whatever. He was not expecting a red-eyed Natsuo to step in the room, face an aching mixture of fury and sorrow. Dabi forces the tightness in his own throat away before he leans back in his chair again and drawls, 

"Hey little brother." 

"Toya this has to stop." His voice trembles, cracks, tears slipping over his cheeks. "My school-- everything around it-- Toya, it's gone. He destroyed it. He killed everyone else." 

"Yeah, I told them that would happen. It's going to keep happening until I'm back home--" Neither he nor Natsuo are prepared for the detective and two even more harried looking cops to burst in at that moment. 

"Jaku, Otheon, and Esuha City have all been hit simultaneously. Eight city blocks have been wiped out." Huh, must have gotten Twice's help with that one. 

"From each? Wow, he's losing his patience, haven't seen him mad in ages." The cops usher Natsuo out before he can get a word in and the detective stays behind, dragging a hand over his face. "Look, I told you: This is not going to stop until I'm free and call him off. You can keep holding out, you can try to trick him, kill me, whatever, but it won't stop until he has me back home. And if you keep waiting like this, he's not even going to have to tear this place down, because I'm sure the average citizens, the people who you're letting die, are going to get fed up sooner rather than later too." 

There's an achingly long beat, but then the detective tells the others, "Prep him for transport." 

They manage to get him up and locked in with four armed guards who take him downstairs to the vehicle bay, and loaded into the the back of the truck before the next call comes in, Tsukauchi not moving nearly far enough away to hide the crackling of his walkie-talkie that says that, 

"The HPSC building has been destroyed. A new drop-off point is being selected." He leans back against the wall of the armored van and waits as they lock his limbs back into place. 

Not even a full day and they break. Pathetic.

///

They drive him out into the middle of Deika. He knows it as soon as they open up the back of the van, and he gets the barest glimpse of the surroundings before they put a bag over his head and then they stand and wait. And wait. And wait. 

Eventually Dabi risks getting shot and just plops down on the broken ground. He can feel the warmth of the sun on his skin for a little while, but it fades, and the light behind the cloth blinding him also goes. Whatever. 

"He didn't show." Hawks. Which, okay, didn't know he was here. "Maybe you're not as important to him as you think you are." 

"Maybe." 

"Let's bring him to Tartarus." 

Hands on his chains again, pulling him off of the ground and loading him back into the van. Dabi lets them lock him in. It takes ten minutes before their little caravan is trundling along again. They drive for an hour, until the wheels are going over smoothly paved roads again, before he starts to hear it. 

From somewhere in the distance, there is crashing, crunching, screaming. The cops around him start to shout, trying to figure out what's happening and Dabi just does his best to brace for impact. He doesn't know if this is Shigaraki himself, Gigantomachia, Geten, or any of their other heavy hitters, but something is coming to hit this caravan. His ears pop as wind rushes in as the doors of the vehicle are yanked out of place with a wrenching metallic tear. He's chained down, but god, that motion makes his stomach twist. He hears the cops yelling, but the sound grows more distant as they're pulled out of the car, Hawks shouting, 

"Everyone off the ground!" 

Oh good. That means it is his lover after all. The truck swerves, hits a bump, and Dabi goes weightless for a second before something very solid is grabbing onto him. He hears the chains snap, and then the distinct sound of something decaying, before he's feeling his body covered in a deluge of dust. It takes him a second to realize that he's in someone's arms, against their chest for a handful of weightless seconds before they land back on the ground, skidding to a stop. 

"Are you hurt, firefly?" 

Wait. "What the fuck, are you ripped now?" 

"Dabi." 

"I'm fine, put me down and get this shit off of me. I have a bird to turn into fried chicken." 

Duster does put him down and then Dabi feels his hand, his whole hand, against his cheek through the bag. The fabric turns to dust and he blinks it away as it falls over his head and shoulders. Decay crawls over his skin harmlessly until it reaches the cuffs at his wrists, the ones still tight around his ankles, and those fall away as well. And Tomura really is right here. White hair much longer than before it was when he went into the tank, body corded with fresh muscle, and control over his quirk that Dabi didn't even know would be possible. 

No one can really blame him for that all being so hot that he immediately tangles his hands in that thick, soft hair and pulls him into a kiss. Least of all Tomura, because his lover's hands wrap tightly around his hips and pull him in close, kissing him back just as fiercely. Kisses him like they haven't gotten to in two and a half months and after an entire day of worry. Definitely ruins the moment when a gun goes off. 

Dabi is expecting pain, or expecting Tomura to be in pain, but he doesn't even flinch as the bullet connects with his shoulder. As he pulls away and glares up somewhere behind him as the bullet is pushed back out of his skin and the wound heals over. He lifts a hand and there's a loud sucking sound as all of the air seems to be pulled out of the vicinity, the pressure changing so fast it makes his ears pop, and then Duster lifts his hand and sends out a blast of air so intense that the closest two cops who were floating, held aloft by Hawks' feathers, turn into ragdolls as their bones are snapped from the force of it, the boom loud enough Dabi's pretty sure his ears will be ringing for a few days, as Hawks retreats back even further from them with the rest of the convoy. It's practically a small army that he'd tried to save before Duster got to them, but he has plenty of feathers for it. Or at least that would be the case if this was like Fukuoka and there was somewhere for him to land as he used the feathers for rescue only, but as it is now, he's visibly struggling to hold himself up on the tiny wings he has left as the others keep the rest of the police and a handful of other heroes aloft, none of them wanting to risk touching the ground after seeing what Shigaraki can do. 

A few heroes, including his father, but no, "They didn't send Eraser Head?" 

"A double took a parade to Musutafu." Tomura explains, settling one arm back around his waist. "I'm not sure how much longer that distraction will hold, if you want to finish these ones off, firefly?" 

"Tempting," But he doesn't know if the one who knocked him out is here. He didn't get a good look at them before they hit him, and he would hate for both of them to end up back in chains after how much effort his lover put into coming and getting him. "But I'm more interested in going home and seeing what else your treatments changed." He presses in even closer, like he'll be able to feel it through the plates of armor beneath his new suit. "Did anything else get even bigger?" 

"You're incorrigible." 

"You're shockingly romantic. All of my family members?" 

"I figured you would be upset that your reveal was ruined." 

"I love you." 

Tomura's eyes soften and he presses another soft peck to his lips. "I love you too, baby. Come on, let's go home." 

The tar claws its way up their throats, and in a matter of seconds, they're gone. 

[miliamin1]

“What is it now?” Wednesday asks gravely, still standing over her.

“I lied.” Enid answers wetly.

“You’re disabled and pay too much for the college tuition to feel guilt over-”

“I lied to my mom about having a girlfriend.” Enid sniffles.

“...and?” Wednesday tenses for a moment.

“So when I come home for Christmas alone she will restart the ‘Enid isn’t really gay’ agenda.” More tears again so she rubs at her eyes.

“How much did you lie?” Wednesday asks sitting down.

“I- just mentioned last June in a phone call fight that I’m dating a woman to prove a point. Somehow. I don’t know.  I think she got too sick to continue so I didn’t elaborate. And I-” Enid swallows heavily” I might have mentioned going on a date to cut a call short. Or being on a date. Maybe once when you were hearable in the background. Oh god.” She hides her face in hands.

“Only me?”

“Yeah I say it when I’m home, when I’m out I use going to a class excuse-”

Wednesday interrupts her in a contemplative tone “Do you need a perfect partner or a menace to make her regret budding into your dating life?” When Enid looks up at her the goth is looking far into distance, hand loosely over her mouth.

Enid squints at her before shaking her aching head and wincing “I- perfect partner I guess so she would shut up that only being with a man would make me happy. Or something. I don’t want to remember specific-”

“I can do that." 

“What?” Enid mumbles, rubbing her forehead.

“Play a perfect partner.” Wednesday's head turns to stare.

“... what?” Enid repeats faintly, with fingers to her temples.

Wednesday’s voice is casual but her eyes are intense. “I can be an objectively perfect romantic partner. We’re the same age, I’m attractive, more than able bodied, I have a successful career although I would have to reveal my pen name for that but even otherwise I’m independently wealthy anyway, well educated and I know etiquette to mask well enough. I can’t do anything about the inescapable impression of inhumanity but with my perfect manners complaining about that while sounding sane isn’t achievable. Then there’s atheism and Mexican heritage which could be problems according to your family. I doubt I can pass off as religious but if anyone asks I can just start speaking fluent French and talk about my European immigrant mother. Depends on how racist your family is.”

Pressing with fingers onto the head to make it work didn't help. She's been holding her breath too. “Wens- what- wait.”

“You stopped crying. Good.”

“You were joking to make me stop crying?”

“No. My offer is serious. As long as you won’t cry at me about it again.” Wednesday raises an eyebrow momentarily.

-----

Hi, may I interest you in a pretend relationship Christmas fic a month after? Just don't expect them to actually respect christianity.

Christmas Eve(L) (24096 words) by miliamin Chapters: 6/? Fandom: Wednesday (TV 2022) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Wednesday Addams/Enid Sinclair Characters: Wednesday Addams, Enid Sinclair, Enid Sinclair's Brothers, Esther Sinclair (Wednesday), Murray Sinclair Additional Tags: Fake/Pretend Relationship, Christmas Fluff, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Angst, Oblivious Enid Sinclair, Bisexual Enid Sinclair, Autistic Wednesday Addams, Enid Sinclair Has ADHD Summary: Lying for months about having a girlfriend so that her mother will stop her biphobic comments is close to blowing up in Enid’s face as she's about to leave for her Christmas break alone. But her hot, spooky roommate really loathes her tears so a plan to prevent her from admitting to lying is formed.

[kurosakijane-blog]

Early October. To say that the weather is wonderful today is a blatant lie. Autumn has just begun, and endless rains are already terrorizing the city with might and main, washing away the streets and loudly knocking on the windows of houses.

Fortunately, the small office of “Devil May Cry” was cozy. There is heat, there is light, there is water, hot pizza is served to the table - and Dante doesn’t need anything more to be happy.

Opening the next box, the hunter broke into a blissful smile. The hunter’s nose was filled with the delicious aroma of cheese, and the golden brown crust beckoned…

At this time, a real hurricane broke out outside the window. The rain began to drum with double force, convincing with all its appearance that staying at home in your bed was the best idea that could ever come to mind.

The sound of rain reminded Dante of uninvited guests. They come without an invitation, knocking, wanting to enter. They get angry - lightning flashes in the sky, everything calms down. And then it starts again from the beginning, and so on in a circle.

As soon as the man relaxed, a bell rang and the door to the building opened, letting the cold inside. The sound of the rain became louder, and the room was instantly filled with the smell of dampness and gasoline.

"You could put your office in a better place than on the over side of the sity, you know?"

"You ruined my date, you know?" Dante answered with a smile, pointing to a box of fast food.

"Oooh, I'm sorry!” Morrison said seriously, “In fact, I came to inspect the building as its future owner.”

Noticing the surprise in Dante's eyes, the guest explained: “Just in case. You yourself asked.”

“Go ahead,” the son of Sparda casually waved his hand, “you still won’t find anything interesting.”

"I’ll try." information broker muttered quietly, climbing the stairs to the second floor.

As soon as the footsteps above died down, a playful smile touched Dante's lips.

"Well, shall we continue?" he whispered, taking out a piece of slightly cooled pizza. Even though such a long-awaited romantic meeting was ruined for them, nothing can stop true feelings.

But…

The bell rang again. In truth, today, Friday evening, Dante was ready to curse this damn bell and everyone who comes through these damn doors.

Looking at the visitor, the hunter raised an eyebrow in surprise. A young girl stood in front of him. The gray coat barely covered her knees, dressed in black nylon, and the stranger’s face was hidden by the hood.

The guest lightly shook off the wet umbrella and reached for her headdress.

"Are you Dante? " you asked, approaching the table. The man sighed heavily and put down the pizza, which had long cooled down.

"It depends on who asks."

After introducing yourself, you hand Dante a small stack of papers.

"I would like to offer you one thing."

The son of Sparda quickly skimmed the text and then closed his eyes tiredly.

"Sorry, baby, but I don’t take on family dramas. I have enough of my own."

"But… you are a demon hunter!" you exclaim, removing a strand of hair that stuck to your face. "Isn't this your job?"

“As I said…” Dante stopped mid-sentence. The lights in the entire building suddenly went out, and the radio went silent with a click.

Footsteps were heard again from the second floor.

"Damn you, Dante!" Morrison shouted. "Are you not paying your bills again?!"

"You are the future owner! But there hasn’t been normal work for a long time, and whose fault is it?" the gray-haired man shouted back.

Gradually your eyes got used to the darkness and, finally, you were again able to see the owner of the office in front of you. He sat with his head bowed and seemed to be thinking about something. He hesitates. It only took you a couple of seconds to realize that this was your chance.

“What a pity,” you drawl playfully, carefully sitting down on the edge of the table, “but if you helped me, I would pay generously. What should you do…"

The guest slowly pushed the papers right under Dante's nose, waiting for a reaction. There was a quiet chuckle, the man took a deep breath and raised his head. The darkness still shrouded his silhouette, but you saw one thing very clearly. Sparks in his eyes.

“Stubborn,” he grins, getting up from his chair. The man rests his hands on the table and, leaning forward, looks you straight in the eyes "we agreed."

[xandriagreat]

My thoughts about the bad guys Halloween special

Since I've talked about my thoughts about the Christmas special last year (This post), I thought I give my thoughts about the Halloween special.

So, here are my thoughts and theories about the special, along with different ending(s) to it. This has Spoilers for the ones who haven't watched it.

Also, I'm sorry but this is very long, I had a lot of things to say/type and different sections.

Thoughts

I thought it was very interesting, though the ending made me have mix feelings about it.

It was funny and had very good scary points. But there were moments where I was like "That's not how that character would say" and "This feels more like a fic that went off topic".

I do like that the animation is a bit cleaner. It's still a bit messy but it's cleaner and pays more attention to detail. Almost like some video games.

When the gang mentioned trick-or-treaters coming over, I was like "They are in a hide out! Nobody is coming to their hide out or they would have already been arrested and the things they have stolen would have been given back! Unless they go to an abandoned house within the city then ok."

When the 'haunted' piano started to play, I was like "Bendy and the Ink Machine?" I don't know why my mind went there but it sounds like it!

At the near end, I was like "Wait- What happened to the Westside Wallabies?! I need answers! Also, gang, those pranks were just mean!"

Now, for the twists...

The first twist that it was a prank from the gang was cool but also mean. I know that it's a prank and to teach Wolf that he went too far but it's also gaslighting. I know that the word has been over used but they made Wolf think that he was going crazy. Even when Snake starts to do Reginald E. Scary voice "I told you so" to Wolf before going back to his normal voice to say "I told you so" to Wolf again. THAT WAS REALLY MEAN!

The second twist that Wolf knew the whole time was weird. With him using Webs' tech to do when turning into bones and ash, that went too far too. Then when Wolf is telling the group how he knew the whole time was weird too. With Wolf being behind the white board as the group, acting freaked out to the gang would leave so he would have access to Webs' computer (which is just laying about on the coffee table). Also his prank was really mean!

It would make more sense if Wolf overheard that the gang were planning to prank him.

Out of character characters

I know that I've mentioned it earlier but some of the things that were acted or said from the characters were out of character that it caught me off guard or confused me.

Examples (from somewhat in character to very out of character)

Shark and Piranha were somewhat in character in this special, the only thing that they were out of character was when they were trying to remember how the piano tune music was playing. Also, (even though it's a bit funny), Piranha farts when he's nervous of lying. Sure, he did lie in the car and then fart. But at the knight chasing them, he fart a lot, though I can understand nervous/scared farts.

Webs complaining that Wolf took her youth was very out of character for her. To my knowledge, she hasn't complained about her youth. Also, leaving her computer out in the living room while doing a prank is also out of character for her (unless it's something that she normally does, have her computer out in the living room. So, she continues to do that to not look 'off' or 'out of character'). ALSO, SHE WOULD HAVE NOTICED IF THERE WAS A NEW CGI ANIMATION ON HER COMMUTER!

Wolf being a prankster was something I didn't see him acting like that. (I know that he's "the big bad" wolf like in the fairy tales but those are more of crimes and how hungry the wolf in those stories are than pranks.) So, him also being a prankster caught me off guard a bit. I can see him being impressed by the prank that the gang pulled on him but I can also see him being mad and close to crying, since the gang is the only family he has.

Snake saying (after when Wolf seemingly turned to ash) "He deserved a dignified death, like being backstabbed by his snakiest friend! I missed my chance!" ... HE WOULD NOT SAY THAT! And I'm not the only person who thinks/knows that! If (The Bad Guys 2022) movie Snake saw Wolf (seemingly) turned to bone and ash, he would scream, he would cry, he would mourn the loss of his friend as he cussing out Reginald E. Scary's name for taking his friend away. Then he would go on a full on cussing spree on Wolf after Wolf pranked the team. (I don't know why but I just see Snake cussing a lot after that.) Also, Snake is, well, a snake. He would have tasted the air and noticed that the bones and ashes were not real.

the Villain: Reginald E. Scary

I wish we did get to know Reginald E. Scary a bit more. He looked interesting and I would have liked to get to know him a bit more.

HE COULD HAVE BEEN THE NEXT HATBOX GHOST! (the Haunted Mansion 2023 movie).

He could have been very scary but he wasn't.

Theories (again theses are mine, don't get mad at me if you don't like them, please.) (They're about Reginald E. Scary)

Reginald E. Scary would have been alive in the late 1800s, mostly the late 1890s. The reason I say that is because his clothing, his house/mansion, and the piano puzzle.

Reginald would have started to like jazz before his death.

Reginald E. Scary would have also been an inventor, that's how the piano would have playing and that one knight armor moved on it's own.

Different Ending(s)

I'll say thing again, the ending made me have mix feelings.

Here's the different ideas I have of a different ending.

The Embarrassing Ending What could have really happened at the end!

We see what the gang does to Wolf after the second twist, like dress him up in a granny costume or something that would make him embarrassed.

The gang is laughing while Wolf is just being grumpy and being like "Ok! I get it! I understand what I did was wrong!"

The Ghost Ending The ending we wanted to see!

The gang is about get the amulet and leave, but before Wolf could take the amulet from the stand again, the same music tune starts to play in the main room. The gang starts to freak out/think that Wolf is pranking them again but he tells them that he's not.

Then the REAL Reginald E. Scary ghost show himself to them.

The gang screams when seeing him but stops as he raises his hand before says "Very interesting, I am impressed. As much as I like tricks, you five are trespassing MY property and put silly contraptions and tricks all over my house!... But I'm feeling nice at the moment and I'll let you five leave. Just leave my amulet be... NOW LEAVE!"

The gang screams again and run out of the mansion. They get in the car and Wolf quickly drive them home back while Scary watches from the window or main door before closing the door.

The Angry and Sad Wolf/"Leaving without the Amulet" Ending This is based on Wolf part of the out of characters

Wolf stares at his friends, who just told him that they pranked him, for a moment and he start to laugh before he starts to cry and shout at them "What's wrong with you!? I would never do a something like this EVER!"

The gang stares at him as they realize that they went too far.

Wolf calms down after a moment and looked at his team again, saying in a dead tone, "We are now leaving. We're not taking the amulet. Just. Leaving."

The gang gasp at that. They were about to protest but Wolf cuts them off by shouting "This is your punishment!...And mine... We don't deserve this after what happened. Now lets go!"

The gang slowly nodded.

The five go outside and get in the car.

Wolf starts the car and drives them back home. He starts to calm down as he drives.

When they get back home, Wolf goes to his room to cool down as the gang apologized, "We're sorry, Wolf..."

Wolf stops at the door before turning around at them and saying, "I forgive you... and I'm sorry for the pranks..." Then he goes into his room and closes the door, starting to calm down and rest after what has happened as he gets on his bed after getting his shoes off.

Final thoughts

I do sometimes like that it was full with halloween pranks but I wish it was a real haunted heist, to see how the gang would deal with a ghost!

Anyway, theses were my thoughts and theories of the special. Overall, I give it a 6/10. It's not the best but not the worst.

Again I am so sorry that this is very long. I had a lot of thoughts about this.

[aparticularbandit]

The Illusion of Choice: Junko Enoshima and You Know What, Writing Poetry Fucking SUCKS

Summary: "Okay, everyone!"

Chapter Rating: T. Fic Rating: M because, again, Danganronpa and DDLC. This is inevitable. Even if Junko keeps trying to evade the plot.

AO3

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“Okay, everyone!”

Junko doesn’t startle.  She expected Monika – or Sayori – or, much less likely, Natsuki – to interrupt them eventually.  The game couldn’t let her sit peacefully with one of the characters and just read a story; no, there has to be more game to play.  Not that she’s particularly sitting peacefully, given the story in question, but she has been deriving a sort of entertainment from glancing over to Yuri every time Yuri glances over at her, just because it makes Yuri look away quickly and blush and look very embarrassed.  But it doesn’t stop her from peeking over at Junko again…and again…and again.

In fact, Yuri’s halfway glancing at Junko when Monika chimes in, and it startles her so much that she drops the book they’ve been sharing.  “M-M-Monika!” she exclaims, and then stops.  She glances down and presses her lips together before slowly handing the book over to Junko, then she glances up again and meets Junko’s eyes.  “We should…we should see what she wants.”

“Pity,” Junko replies.  “I’d rather keep reading with you.”  She winks at her.

Yuri blushes again.

This is too easy.

But then Monika is standing right beside them, as though she’d teleported herself – which is entirely possible, given the game mechanics, her sprite might have just jumped from one place to the other.

The interesting thing about living in a video game is that the world makes up for this: Inside the game, it doesn’t look like her sprite jumped; it looks like Monika walked over to them – or would, if either of them were paying attention to her.  But if Junko focuses hard enough, she can see the edges of the sprites and how they stand out just enough from the flat, truly 2D world behind them.  She can also see the green glitch of binary code, but trying that hard gives her a headache.  It’s not worth the fight.

—At least, Junko could see the code, when she was controlling the game in the Neo World Program.  She saw flits of it when she awoke in this game.  (Maybe it only gave her a headache because she’d already had a headache.)  But she hasn’t tried since, hasn’t reached into the code or tried to break and change it the way she had then.  That would be an easy way to win – to change the code, to bend it to her will, to break it – but she’s done that once.  It’s boring.  Especially when it’s for a game like this.  Significantly less fun than breaking everything in the Neo World Program.

Not that there’s really anything fun here.

Junko glances to Yuri as she jumps up at Monika’s words and brushes at her skirt.  Not nothing.

“I’m sure you enjoyed reading,” Monika says, but she turns her gaze to Junko, and her hopeful green eyes flash the color of code, “but it’s time to share poems!”

Except you didn’t write a poem, did you, Jun-chan?  Oh, Yu-chan will be so disappointed!

Monika’s voice echoes around her, followed by a soft giggling.  Then she skips over to Natsuki, who has her head in a volume of manga but doesn’t seem to be fully awake.  When Natsuki looks up, her eyes are bleary, and she shuts her manga, showing a cover that says—

“I can’t wait to read your poem,” Yuri murmurs, handing The Captivity of Otonashi to Junko and distracting her enough that she misses what the cover of Natsuki’s manga says.  “I’m sure it will be….”  Her voice trails off, and she shakes her head.  “No, I don’t want to put any pressure on you.  This…this might be your first time writing a poem.  I can’t—”

Junko pushes herself up from the ground.  “It’s not my first time,” she says softly, brushing strands of red hair out of her face and tucking them behind her ear.  “It’s just…been a while.”

(This is a lie.

She doesn’t remember ever writing poetry before, which doesn’t make sense.  Even before her change into her final form as Junko, Ryoko seems like the sort of person who would have written a lot of poetry.  Really bad poetry, because there’s more to it than analysis can just draw out.  But she can’t remember writing poetry, so maybe…maybe she didn’t.

Or….)

Junko’s eyes narrow, and she glares up at the ceiling, as though that’s where Chiaki would be.  How much did you fuck with my head, Nanami-senpai?  What did you steal?  Before Yuri can say anything, she tucks the book under one arm and starts to the desk where she’d been sitting, as though she would go through her bag for a poem she didn’t write.  But it’s time – there’s four others, which means that Sayori and Monika can swap poems and Natsuki and Yuri can swap poems and she can get the fuck out of dodge—

“Where are you going?”

Junko expected this from Monika, but it’s Sayori who skips up to her, a piece of loose leaf crumpled in her hands.  She shifts the strap of her bag over her shoulder.  “Leaving.”

“Before we share our poems?”  Sayori looks up at Junko with wide, hurt eyes.  “You wrote one, right?  You don’t have to worry about sharing it, because we’re all sharing them, and we can all help each other get better!”

Junko sighs.  “I, uh.”  She meets Sayori’s gaze – liars avert their gazes when they lie, and Junko knows better than to use that tell, even if she’s certain Sayori won’t catch it.  “I forgot.”

Sayori immediately takes her hand.  “That’s okay, Ryo—”  She cuts herself off.  “Jun-chan.  I forgot, too!”  She giggles and glances down at the paper in her free hand.  “I…I wrote mine this morning as soon as I woke up.  I wrote it really fast!  So it’s probably no good.”  She blushes.  “You could…you could read it, and it would probably make you feel better about writing one yourself, and then—”

A sharp comment from Natsuki cuts Sayori off immediately, and she turns to the other club members.  Natsuki is saying something to Yuri, something harsh, and Junko grits her teeth immediately.  All she sees is Mikan, quivering before Hiyoko again.  Of course, she hadn’t minded Hiyoko so much; she knew how to control her, how to redirect her anger and hatred somewhere else, since Mikan’s despair was hers and hers alone (in the same way that Mikan herself was), so once she’d gotten involved, Mikan hadn’t been berated as completely as before.

Junko hasn’t gotten involved here yet—

Sayori moves before Junko does, hands waving to try and stop the fight, but she doesn’t step between them.  If anything, as Junko looks at Yuri’s stance, she realizes – again – that Yuri isn’t like Mikan; she’s standing her ground.  It’s not Natsuki attacking Yuri, an easy target; it’s an actual fight.

Junko’s eyes narrow.

Then she turns in the confusion and walks out.

(It’s called taking advantage of the situation.  It is not called being a coward.)

~

“You fucked with my brain,” Junko mutters under her breath as she walks, alone, from the high school.  She’s in the space between scenes; at this point, she’s staring harder at everything just so she can see the general outline of the code, and there’s no code here, which means – as far as the game itself is concerned – none of this exists.  Her AI brain is just manufacturing surroundings and filling in spaces that aren’t there to make things make more sense.

As if an AI needs things to make sense.

(Maybe they do.  The Junko in the meat sack hadn’t actually looked that hard into the ethics of AI or all of that extra fluff stuff.  She’d just mimicked what she’d seen Chihiro do, but with her own unique spin.  Which means that Junko as she is now is only going off of that limited knowledge.

Unless that’s something else Chiaki fucking stole from her.

That fucking bitch.)

As soon as she speaks to her, Chiaki appears as if from nowhere, walking alongside her.  “You already suspected that, I think.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t think you would take memories of writing poems.  That’s so—”  Junko splays her hand out because she can’t even think of a word to describe it.  “Random,” she says finally, because it’s the closest word there is.  “I would be acing these comparisons and what the fuck if you hadn’t—”

“You wouldn’t be acing anything because you didn’t want to write a poem in the first place,” Chiaki gently corrects her.  She continues to walk forward, although her feet don’t quite touch the ground.  In the foreground of this game’s art style, Chiaki looks out of place; her design is similar but too different.  Too real, almost.

Junko lifts her own hand in front of her face to compare.  She doesn’t look out of place, only Chiaki.  “Did you make me look like this?”

“You had to fit in.”

“You suck.”

Chiaki almost smiles.  “Would you believe me if I told you that I didn’t?”

Junko considers this for a moment before shaking her head.  “No.”

“Then what’s the point of asking?”  Chiaki stops all at once and leans her head back to look up at a sky that isn’t really there.  “I told you – I didn’t change the game.  It was already like this when I found it.”  She sighs.  “The poetry thing was just a game protocol; the main character is supposed to be new at the whole poetry idea, so you are, too.”  Then she reaches into Junko’s bag and pulls a poem out.  “See this?”

Junko stares at it, her eyes narrowing.  “It’s blank.”

Chiaki nods.  “Mmhm.  The game would have given you a poem, if you let it.  Kind of a cheat code.”

“And you didn’t tell me this before because—”

“I wanted to see what you would do.”  Chiaki shrugs.  “Is that all?”

Junko turns to her finally.  “Why did you even put me here?” she asks.  “Surely you don’t think this is going to do anything to me.  I’m still Junko Fucking Enoshima – trademark pending – or it was, but I’m not sure the whole trademark thing is even still functioning anymore—”  She cuts herself off.  “You, of all people, should want me deleted.  To see me cease to exist.  You’re not into the whole torture thing, so why the fuck would you put me here?”

Chiaki glances up and meets her gaze levelly.  “Is that why you didn’t delete me?” she asks.  “To torture me?”

Junko lifts her chin, grits her teeth, but doesn’t say anything.

“You don’t know, do you?”

“Yeah, because you fucking took it from me,” Junko lies through her clenched teeth.  She pushes past Chiaki in the space that does not exist and focuses on getting back to the house that does exist, but shouldn’t.  “Nice chat, Chicharin.”

“Hey, hey!” Chiaki calls after her.  “You wanted me!”

Junko ignores her, and the game shifts itself around her ignorance.  Her next step places her squarely in her own bedroom, covered with the clutter that she doesn’t want or need, and when she collapses on her bed, Chiaki is nowhere to be seen.

Good on her for knowing when to not follow.

[hikennosabo]

#tristampparty day 9, episode 9: millions knives

i've been forgetting to tag @tristampparty in my recent posts whoopsies

so. episode 9. going to just... climb into the microwave ahead of time. get nice and cozy in there. let's. go.

okay let's hit the start button on that microwave now mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm beep beep beep beep

uagh his fucking expressions in this scene... and him playing "his" side of the piano, then reaching to "vash's" side of the piano to play the dramatic part. it's a cry of loneliness!!! from his heart!!!! AUAHAHGHGH

i remember seeing a post a while ago pointing out that knives cutting off vash's arm means they can never play the piano together anymore and that fucking HURTS, man.

i think we need to take the time to pay extra attention to knives's expressions... the character acting in tristamp is really good all-around

overworking them "cuts them off"... i guess it makes them unable to maintain the connection...?

knives touching the glass... reminds me of just before he absorbs the first plant in the manga.

the contrast of the city lighting up beautifully with the horror of the last run... man.

wait... city...?? this... this isn't july, right? the platform/corridor they're standing on looks the same as the one meryl and roberto end up on in the second half of the episode, but the plant containers on the wall are different so i don't think this is the same place... but we started the episode in knives's piano room, which IS in (not-yet-)july, so this must be close by because the alarm went off, which i'm assuming is connected to the plants somehow...??

also wait, we don't see this level of development from the outside. like in the faraway shot when vash spots this place. am i misunderstanding. it's only been 5 years since the crash, so idk if this much development would be possible in that time BUT the guys who show up said they overloaded the plants to speed up "reconstruction," so... uhhhhh... am i missing something?! am i dumb?! 😭

me every time knives makes an expression that hurts me deep in my heart: look!!!! look!!!!

screencaps absolutely do not do it justice, the way his expression changes... horror, shock, grief...

the timing of vash arriving... the cruelty of the humans, the way they talk about the plants... knives's sadness, his grief and rage--wait one of the randos gets his arm cut off

lost arm count: 6

as always i feel like there's a lot more to say but the only thing i'm feeling is my heart hurting so bad :(

vash might be speaking for himself here, too.

hmmm, he says this, but knives dismisses it as if he doesn't believe it. i wonder... i don't think rem would lie about this... but i wonder if conrad would. lie to knives, i mean. like is knives dismissing this just because he's clinging to his own beliefs or did conrad - who i'd think would be more knowledgeable about plants than rem given his position - tell knives something else?

AGAIN, "SINNERS" WITH THE CAPITAL S!!!

i forget, do we see how vash got his gun in the manga? knives gave him his gun in 98, too. interesting that knives is the one who gives vash his weapon in at least 2 out of 3 canons...

hmmm. in the manga, this scene was when knives learned about the black hair thing and drastically changed his plan, deciding he needed to absorb plants. here, though, it seems knives was already planning the higher dimension connection stuff, although he hadn't put it into motion yet. because the plants here are just... being used normally (""normally""), not stored for future higher dimension connection purposes or absorption purposes. knives does still "change his plan," though, i think, when he realizes vash won't cooperate with him. i wonder if/when we'll get the black hair reveal in tristamp. i wanna see knives with his black streak.

conrad and luida know each other... luida DID mention conrad by name last ep, but considering his position it wouldn't be that weird for her to know of his existence without actually knowing him, but no, they actually know each other...

ugh, when knives tells vash to kill luida, he's asking vash to choose between humans and plants, and it just hurts because. knives and luida are both his family. he loves them both.

wait knives with the lace up knee high boots... the drip...

this is the face he makes right before he gives way to anger. man.

he sees rem in luida and lashes out... vash saw rem in her too... ugh. my heart.

going frame by frame again and knives has a bandage on his arm... why? it doesn't seem to be part of his outfit, he doesn't have one on the other arm. there's on on his right leg too, under the boot?? why...

also i like how knives rides the pull of gravity to get close enough to cut vash's arm off. that's a fun detail

lost arm count: 7

the difference in context of knives cutting off vash's arm in tristamp vs trimax... it's a canyon... a canyon of difference...

once again screencaps don't do the character acting justice, the microexpressions he makes... the disbelief, the shaky laugh... he's about to cry. vash couldn't point the gun at luida. but he points it at knives. and then he stands up and turns away, and the way his voice shakes?? dude. he's crying.

but also why does he say it'll take a century to build a world of plants? where is he getting that number from? later in the episode, zazie says that a century is nothing to plants, but knives is like. six. a century would probably still feel like it'd be a long time to him. is that his own personal estimate of how long it'll take to execute his plan? is it conrad's?

wolfwood doesn't react at all when brad says this. funny, but also why.

i hope they can. i hope they can make up. (<- crying screaming and throwing up)

reminds me of vash saying he'll save knives in 98. im gonna throw up

IM GONNA THROW UP!!!!!

it's so weird that ZAZIE is the one explaining earth. like they know a LOT about it, huh? what it looks like, what the life on it looks like (looked? should i be using past tense?)... who told them all this? knives? conrad? this isn't common knowledge either, even honors student meryl doesn't know anything about earth. but why? a lot of knowledge was lost when the ships crashed, and time has passed, but... why would the state of earth and the reasons for the colony ships not even be taught in school? the survivors from when the ships crashed were FROM earth. (well, i guess some of them might have been born in space, but...?) did they not teach their descendants about what happened? were they ashamed? or is this another thing that conrad/EoM/whoever is suppressing information about - and if THAT'S the case, why?

uuaaaghhh i'm writing this post late again and it's 3am and i can't think. sorry this was mostly incomprehensible screaming

[dirtwatchman]

PARTIES: @dirtwatchman and @nightmaretist TIME: First week of May WHERE: Dance Macabre SUMMARY:  Two undead meet up for a drink that was owed months ago. The night gets interesting for Caleb and Inge as they both start to realize what the other is. WARNINGS: Eludes to domestic abuse at times

Clubs weren’t his usual scene. Caleb much preferred a quiet restaurant over the lively atmosphere of a dance bar but there were two things that had made him suggest Dance Macabre that night; the girl he’d promised a drink to was there when they’d started their conversation which meant he knew she liked it and the unusual presence he had started to feel around him was motivation to be in the middle of a ton of people. Something dark, almost sinister, was on his tail and he didn’t know why. It would come and go, the dark presence surrounding him one moment and then gone the next only for him to feel as if he were being watched again a day or two later. He just hoped that having more people around would deter whatever it was following him around from giving him the reason.

He sat at the bar, his own drink in front of him untouched while the weight of everything sat on his shoulders. People around him were laughing and having a good time, none of them paying attention to the anxious man in the corner as he waited for Inge. Hopefully, she wouldn’t notice anything off about him either. There was no need to scare away a possible new friend before they’d even gotten the chance to talk.

When he looked up and saw her making her way through the crowd, he let the worry slip away and waved to her. Caleb’s smile was forced, barely lifting in the corners, but he’d managed one at least. “I didn’t know what you wanted so I went ahead and got my own. Feel free to choose whatever you like.” He had promised it for her birthday after all. “Happy Birthday…a few months late, that is.”

If this life was still to be called that – a life, despite the accusations of being a walking corpse – then Inge found only value in it if there was still spontaneity. Sometimes she was, as everyone, overrun with a desire to become something of a recluse. To be alone with her astral, her nightmares and her sculptures and nothing more. But she’d never done well with solitude and most importantly, she never felt dead until she gave into loneliness.

So even if she was in pain and angry, even if she felt something dark and ugly unfurl within herself, she went out. Dance Macabre was a favorite, as was the club in New York she astral projected to from time to time. She didn’t dance as fervently as she once had – her back and gut still aching – but she drank and she flirted and she talked. She went out to meet a stranger, because why not? Without spontaneity, she might as well be dead. Truly dead.

She approached the semi-stranger with a smile on her lips, sitting down next to him at the bar. “Why, thank you,” she said. Inge wondered – as she did with all patrons at this club – if he was undead or just simply willing to go to strange places. “Better late than never, right?” She gave a wink, leaned to the bartender to order herself a glass of white wine. “So when is your birthday? Maybe we can pre-celebrate that too, tonight.”

His eyes were on hers as she spoke but he looked away as she asked about his birthday. It was a day that he never really cared for but it had gotten so much worse after he’d died. Most of the time Caleb wouldn’t even tell what day it was, finding ways to keep others out of the know so that they wouldn’t bother with it at all. It only brought back bad memories of the past and dread for the future he now had. “It’s already passed as well. Guess it’s a late celebration for both of us.” Which wasn’t a lie. Hopefully she wouldn’t notice that he’d not said the date. He didn’t want that conversation.

So, maybe changing the subject was for the best. As he glanced around the club, he noticed that things were a little out of the ordinary. Or at least this place wasn’t what he imagined most clubs to be like. Strange dark red drinks were being served at another bar, what he assumed were fake fingers being given to a few people who actually looked familiar, and there were quite a few ghosts lingering around on the dance floor. Was it Halloween themed like Hallow’s Eats?

His gaze went back to Inge, confusion clear on his face. “Wait, what is this place? I didn’t take much of a look before you got here but it’s kind of strange.” She’d been the one who was here the night of her actual birthday and this was the perfect opportunity to change the subject so Caleb didn’t have to talk about his least favorite day of the year. “Are those…fingers? They don’t look gummy…”

He didn’t seem excited to speak about his birthday, which was often an indication of something. Inge wasn’t the type to pry into people’s sensitive and personal business, though, as she thought those things depressing and not her area of expertise. She went to places like these to indulge, not to therapize. So she paid it no mind. “A late celebration! Perfect. Better late than never.”

She gave the bartender a smile – glad that it wasn’t that Mack Ross girl who’d taken a bite out of her – when he handed her her drink and took a nice and hefty sip. Dance Macabre had a wide range of drinks, but they also just had good wine. They hadn’t found a way to liquidize nightmares and turn them into a product just yet. For the best, she figured. Commodifying something like that would be very depressing.

Caleb seemed unfamiliar with the club’s wide range. Inge blinked at him, innocuously. “Oh, it’s a little … avant garde, you know? Edgy.” She looked at the fingers. The human fingers. She didn’t often wish to be a different flavor of undead, but being able to munch on those while staring someone dead in the eye would be very amusing. “Attracts a certain kind of people. And those? Oh, yes. They’re fingers.” She smiled. “Look very real, don’t they?”

She seemed perfectly okay with dropping the subject in favor of the new one and for that Caleb was so grateful. There were a lot of nosy people around, it was nice to know she wasn’t one of them and in spite of the uncomfortable feeling of being watched he was starting to relax enough to enjoy this for the good time it should be. 

But then he kept staring at the fingers, one having been slid to someone closer to the two of them than the previous orders had. The zombie had seen enough detached fingers in his life to be able to tell if they were real or not and those were definitely real. Suddenly the night had brought on more mystery even if it made more sense that he recognized some of these people; they were clients, people that he fed regularly. Did he somehow stumble upon a zombie bar? How had Caleb never known this existed?

Oh, because he didn’t have fun.

Then his attention was turned back to Inge, wondering if she was the same as him or if she thought it all very niche. He glanced at her wine and then back to her eyes, deciding to go along with the charade just in case. “A little too real. It’s kind of disturbing.” But he was smiling into his drink as he lifted it to his lips. “Are you into that kind of thing? I feel like some of your paintings could indicate that you are but I don’t want to assume. Maybe you just like this place for the music.”

Though the imagery of eating another human was fascinating in a way – there was a reason shows and stories about cannibals took off – Inge was glad she could sate her cravings with nightmares. It was more refined. And if she wanted to she could gorge on a human being in a dream without all the mess anyway. (A part of her also appreciate that it didn’t require murder, but that was boring and moral.)

She was bemused by the other’s reaction, by the way he brought up her paintings as if they were any indication that she’d like to chew on severed fingers. She decided it was a compliment. Inge figured the other was human, or at least mortal — which was a little unfortunate, but did not mean this was to be a complete waste of her time.

“Oh, I’m not into munching on dead fingers. Alive ones, maybe,” she said, “But I have a few friends who like those along with their beers. You don’t?” She blinked at him as if she’d asked him what his friends did for work as she sipped her wine. “Maybe you should order one and see if it’s your kinda thing.”

He honestly wasn’t sure if she was being serious or not, the deadpanned way she’d mentioned liking her fingers live and well making him reconsider whether she was undead or not. Caleb was staring at her when she asked, his head starting to shake slowly once his brain had recovered from the short circuiting the reply had caused. Was she serious? “Not much for fingers myself, no.” He’d never liked the bony part that came with eating the human body and it was very hard to eat around them in a finger. 

Her suggestion to get one of his own was about to be denied until that unease came back to him from the shadows. It started to infiltrate his mind, push him towards agreeing, towards chaos. Again, he was afraid to say no. Something about this thing, whatever it was, was so menacing that even from the shadows it had a tight hold on him and Caleb found himself nodding slowly.

“But I guess it couldn’t hurt to see what the fuss is about. They look pretty popular.” It was a stupid decision and he knew it even as he placed the order with the bartender but defying this entity seemed stupider in the long run. What was he going to do though? Eat a real finger in front of someone who appeared, by all accounts, normal? Something told him yes. And he didn’t like it. 

“Not even for sucking one off?” Inge asked it innocuously once again. There wasn’t really any ulterior motive there — she wasn’t as interested in random hook ups any more, which was because of her newly gained scar and definitely not because she was hung up on some fae. But she was in a bar and she was flirty by nature because she could be and so she gave Caleb a small smirk. “Pity.”

She would understand it if he rejected her proposal. It was quite ludacris to order a decapitated finger if human beings weren’t part of your diet and even Inge wasn't particularly fond of holding the mushy things. They reminded her of knakworsten, dutch sausages that would snap when you broke them. Those were actually tasty, though she didn’t eat them any more because they contained too much salt for her to not feel a little sickened by them.

There was a stir in the shadows, but she didn’t think much of it. This was a club after all, with moving lights and strange dark corners. “Alright then,” she said, leaning forward towards the barkeep, “One of your fingers, please. A long one preferably.” As the employee busied herself with getting one of them, she eyed Caleb curiously. Was he just a human, doing something just for the heck of it, just to see if those were actual fingers? Or was he undead like her, aiming to get a snack without seeming too suspicious? “First time for everything, right?”

“Oh.” His eyebrows raised at the forward question, surprise shining through as he stumbled over it in his mind. He really hoped this hadn’t been what their interaction had been leading up to. Not that she wasn’t beautiful or fun or anything he just wasn’t available….maybe. Caleb still wasn’t clear on that part and was too anxious to bring it up with the one person he really needed to bring it up with. Still, looking back on it all, he might have misread the intentions with the back and forth on the internet. “That's uh….I'm not saying that I don't like that part.” He really should have kept his mouth shut. Not only was he stumbling in his mind but he was stumbling over his words now too. 

Thankfully he was saved by the arrival of the drink. Or was he burdened with it? It was hard to tell when he glanced over at her again, still not sure if she could tell this thing was real or not. It certainly was, that wasn’t the question. The question was if she would start screaming when she realized it was. The woman did seem to be taunting him as she ordered but he could already tell that was something she enjoyed no matter the situation. He cleared his throat and put his hand over the glass as if that would stop her from truly seeing his garnish but he made no moves to get rid of it. 

He hated fingers.

Smiling softly, Caleb shook his head. “A first time doesn’t mean a good time. Is it weird that I’m nervous about a strange gummy finger?” Was that even working? “What if I changed my mind…?” He trailed off as a grumble struck him deep in his mind. So much for that idea.

He was flustered. It was endearing. Inge chuckled a little and took a long sip from her drink, waving with her hand as if trying to wave away his nervousness. “I’m just teasing you,” she admitted. “Whatever you like you can keep to yourself.” She could push now, tell him that she’d looove to find out, but she wasn’t planning on making this ordeal painfully awkward. A little bit of discomfort was fine, though. That’s why they were ordering the finger.

She looked at the finger with mild interest, wondering where it had come from and how Dance Macabre sourced them. Was it from the young goths that wandered in here? Or were it other people that were dissected and put up for sale? There was something very morbid about it all, especially now that she had actually seen what it was like when someone’s toes were chopped off. A pathetic part of her hoped the people who had once owned these fingers had been dead after the separation.

Apparently Caleb was having some hesitation as well. Understandable, if he was a human. Inge shrugged. She pinched the finger. The sensation made her feel a little uncomfortable, which she hated. She did really have friends who ate these things, but that before Rhett’s toes. “Nope. It’s on my tap. I won’t see it go to waste. Eat up.” She took a hefty sip of her wine. She was glad, for once, that she didn’t have heightened senses. “Plenty of people here snack on ‘em.”

The zombie was glad that she wasn’t someone who was going to pick at the subject that clearly made Caleb uncomfortable. It wasn’t often that he came across people who would willingly give up the playful torture of intimate discussion, their curiosity and amusement taking precedence over another’s comfort in his experience. It made him like her that much more as he relaxed his shoulders, made him comfortable enough to throw a teasing remark back. “I have to keep my air or mystery, right?”

It wasn’t until she reached out to touch that very real body part sitting in his drink that the discomfort returned. She had to know that she’d just touched actual flesh and not the gelatin candy he had been trying to push it off as which made his own curiosity about what she knew, what she was, grow. He couldn’t refuse. She was right, she had ordered the drink herself and the people pleaser in him wouldn’t let that go. Not to mention the darkness that surrounded the two of them pushing for him to take the bite that he was so hesitant to take. He just didn’t know if it was wise to reveal this secret to her so shortly after they’d met. 

She had to know already if she was pushing for it, right? 

Caleb reached out and took the finger, biting into it the best he could around the bone. The bite only proved to him why he hated these things so much and made him wonder what the other zombies ordering these things were thinking. Placing the finger back, planning to munch on it sparingly for the rest of the night, he did feel a little satisfaction after he swallowed…whether that was because it satisfied a little hunger or the entity who had a grip on him was anyone’s guess. “Happy? Or do I have to finish the whole thing?” He was smiling but his eyes showed the nerves that were coursing through him now that he was pretty sure she knew what he was, awaiting her reaction with bated breath.

His air of mystery. Right. Inge thought the other looked quite unassuming and he would be plain if it wasn’t for some of his more striking features. Still, she didn’t quite think him very mysterious — aside from the entire debacle of whether he was undead or not. She had that kind of doubt about plenty of people, though. She indulged him, though, “Certainly, we don’t want to reveal too much too soon.”

She wasn’t sure what she expected from Caleb once faced with the finger. Hell, she hadn’t expected to be met with her own complicated feelings about the matter — but that was something that happened more and more these days. Surges of emotion, of nasty memories trickling in. She’d have to start singing a different tune in her nightmares, incorporate these thoughts of factory floors and being stuck on walls into the dreams she offered others so she could see the memories in a different context.

Maybe this would help, too. She watched Caleb take a bite and did not bother to hide her surprise when he swallowed. It wasn’t the kind of horror a human might feel at the sight of someone eating a finger, but it was still something. She took a sip of her drink, eyes wide and intrigued. “I mean, only if you’re hungry,” she said casually. “Do you do that often, Caleb? Eat human parts?” She glanced at the finger, seeing the bone protrude. It was a nasty sight, which was why she kept looking. Nightmares were really a more refined diet. “I know a few people who do. That, blood … dreams?” She took another sip. “How long ago did you die?” It was a gamble. But she tended to live on the edge, anyway.

There was a weight lifted from his shoulders. Her reaction, though surprised, was definitely not as bad as he’d been expecting but there was also something else that had been lifted. The air wasn’t as…heavy. That presence that Caleb had been feeling for the last couple of days wasn’t near anymore. It was as if her lack of screaming didn’t interest the menacing presence at all and it decided to move on. Was that all it had taken? To reveal what he was to someone who didn’t already know for it to leave him alone? 

No, that was too easy. It had to still be there somewhere. 

For now he would just focus on his companion though. There was no need in fretting over something that wasn’t there, not until it came back. He shook his head at her first comment, pushing the finger to the side onto a little napkin before pulling the rest of the drink closer. What exactly was it served in? “I’ve never really liked fingers much.” He pressed his lips together as he nodded at her question, eyes locked on the drink in front of him so he didn’t have to look at her. “But only as often as I have to.” He knew others who ate humans like it was their day job and, while he understood, he’d never been able to…overindulge. 

Caleb looked up at the dreams comment, eyebrows furrowing as he wondered who she knew. His concern for certain people in his life started to grow but he hoped he wouldn’t have to worry too much. With her reaction, she seemed used to this. “You mean nightmares?” He finally took a drink of whatever the finger had been served in, pleasantly surprised when it turned out to be an actual cocktail. “Just over six years. It’s been a bit of an adjustment. What about you? Are you in the same boat or do you just like hanging out at bars catered to the undead?”

So the truth was out, laid on the table amidst their drinks and the half-eaten finger. Inge felt a level of relief at the final revelation that Caleb was like her — a person who had died and transformed. Wicked’s Rest came with many disadvantages but this was something she liked about the place: it attracted the undead. And though that meant the town also attracted slayers and other dislikeable figures, it almost made it tolerable. It was just better, she found, to surround herself with people who did not age. 

She had figured out a while ago that there was to categorize the undead into two categories: those that abstained and those that indulged. She fell into the latter category, making an art of her nightmares and creating more than she strictly needed for survival. Plenty of others fell into the first category, though – only eating as often as they needed to, as Caleb put it. Inge couldn’t relate. She’d long ceased to feel guilt over the nightmares she spread around. Maybe it was different if your diet required human parts, though. (She thought of Rhett’s leg without wanting to.) “Fair enough. Fingers don’t seem especially nutritious.”

She nodded at his conclusion, “Yes, nightmares. That’s my diet.” It really was more refined than brains or blood, she thought. She looked the other up and down, figured that it made sense that he was still new to this. Inge chuckled. “So I’m like you. It’s been about half a century for me, now, since I died.” It felt wrong to put it like that. “And transformed, of course. It’s why I celebrated here, you know? Most mortals don’t understand — the complications of birthdays when you don’t physically age any more.”

“They aren’t.” It was said with a breath of laughter, Caleb finding it funny but at the same time feeling the weight of this conversation thick in the air. The fact that he knew that was horrifying in itself and every time he laid out the details of his diet, no matter how small, it felt like he was discovering the horrible reality of being a zombie again. It laid heavy on his chest, images of all the bodies he’d ransacked over the years flashing in his mind until the two faces of the people that died by his own hand popped up. They were always side by side, their features locked in the horror they had felt during their final moments. He ground his teeth together as he tried to push those images away and focus on her.

But he did finish the drink in hand before he spoke again, the glass tipping up with a clink as he gulped it down. Not that it would do much good unless this bar had ways of making their drinks stronger for the dead as well. “So you’re a mare then.” It was on the tip of his tongue to point out that at least she only caused fear and it didn’t always result in death but he also knew that didn’t matter. Mayhem came with both of their diets, his just came with the physical whereas hers was more phycological. Both ways did their own catastrophic damage. 

“Transformed?” That was an interesting way to put things. The word could hold different meanings in this context but he got the feeling that Inge wasn’t ashamed of what she was or how she had to survive and that definitely piqued his interest. Not to mention how long she’d had to live this way. “I can’t even imagine being alive that long. Somehow I still think my body will find a way to give in to nature even though I’ve lived through things I shouldn’t have at this point. Are you-” He wasn’t quite sure how to pose this question so he continued the only way he could think of. “Are you happy?”

How had she even felt, six years into her transformation? Inge struggled to recall it — but time played a trick on her memory. It was back in Amsterdam, when Vera had been a teenager and she’d still been trying to figure out how to exist as a mare, as a sleepless creature of the night. She’d felt shame then, she must have … but she preferred not to think of it. Not of that, nor the time she lost, nor the child that was gone, nor her partner in all it. She was a woman of her own future, living in the twenty first century and proud. What she had been in the past was gone.

But she did recall it, the shame. How it had once been there, for the way she had to feed. How it had been replaced by her pride, now. She saw it in Ariadne, who had only been undead for a year or two. She saw it in Leila, who had centuries on her. She had even seen it in Richard, who was older than any other undead she had ever met. She felt bad for them all, these creatures like her who did not think of consumption as a form of self are. “Maybe we should find you something better to eat, then.”

She chuckled mildly. “It’s still perishable, but … not as easily maimed any more, is it? For you, at least.” Vampires and zombies had that advantage over her – their ability to heal with speed. Inge had to wait human weeks and months before pains left her body, before scars were formed. “I’m only in my seventies, Caleb. I’ve hardly outlived most humans.” His question was met with another sip of her drink, too heavy to answer without contemplating it over a sip of alcohol and a little bit of procrastination. “I am, most days. Happier than I ever was as a human.” She smiled. “Not always, but most of the time. Why?”

“I’m okay right now.” He gave her a smile, hoping that she wasn’t worried about the state of his…appetite. There was no need to be. Caleb liked to think he was responsible with his consumption even when his supply was still dwindling to a dangerously low point spurring him to work harder or cut some deals. Inge’s hesitation was understandable though. Not everyone was responsible with their diet, not everyone had the means to be. Which might be why he tried not to eye a random drunk man trying to sneak the tossed finger out of the napkin next to him. At least some poor dead souls digit wasn’t being wasted even if he still felt the need to give her the money for her purchase. 

His attention was back on her after the drunk zombie walked away giggling, clearly thinking he had gotten away with his heist. “Right. It’s wild to me that mares don’t heal the way we can even though we’re all…dead flesh. But at least you guys get to astral. That always sounded kind of cool to me.”

Raising his hands in mock surrender, his smile started to fade quickly. “You’re right, it’s not that old. I guess I just…never thought I’d make it past my teens so the idea of getting that far in life is strange to me. Add to that people calling me old in my forties, it’s a little surreal.” Caleb didn’t miss the way she took a drink before answering him, the zombie taking that as a bad sign even as her words suggested otherwise. He couldn’t say for sure whether she was feigning happiness for his benefit or if she was even doing it for her own peace of mind but he understood that it wasn’t the whole truth. “I think I just wanted to know if I had something to look forward to. Everyone’s different, I know, but a little hope is nice.”

“Good,” she said, not bothering to press the subject any further. When another – presumed – zombie stepped by to snatch the finger, she did raise her eyebrows in amusement and a hint of judgment. The finger was part of her tab, after all — but if Caleb wasn’t going to finish it, then it might as well get eaten by someone else in need. Inge looked back to the sole member of her party, “Well, that’s one way to get by.” 

Her face split into a look of pride, if not something close to that happiness he’d been asking after. “Very true. I’m not sure if I’d swap it for quicker healing or higher tolerance for injury. It makes for a quick get away, too. And it is cool.” Yes, mares were truly the crème de la crème of undead. Except for the healing, of course. “Wish we’d just bleed regularly, though — it’d definitely make hospitals easier.”

The statement was said so plainly, as if it wasn’t a devastating thing in and of itself. If Inge was a more compassionate woman, if she was more sentimental, she might have searched further. “Well, here you are … You might push past two hundred.” Though not all undead made it that far, especially not in a town such as this. Slayers liked to shorten lifespans, even before they’d lived a full human year. “Of course you do!” She sounded more convinced now, because it was certainly easier to speak of the future as something promising than it was to speak of her current happiness or lack thereof. “There is so much to live for. You will look like this forever — and it’s not a bad look to have!” He was handsome, and no lines marred his face. No gray hair in sight, either. “The world is your oyster, Caleb — that much is true for each and everyone of us.” And with us, she meant her fellow undead. Not humans. “Come, let’s have another drink. Fingerless, this time. And we’ll toast to those oncoming years.”

There was a brief moment where Caleb considered asking the zombie if he needed a steadier supply for his diet but he figured this was supposed to be a fun night out so he let it go. He did have a new place to network though. Now if only he could figure out his supply shortage. “Not the smartest way but as long as he’s not rampaging…” Another reason to ask the man, Caleb wanting to make sure that he could prevent that as much as possible. 

Again, this was supposed to be fun, so he tucked those thoughts away in the back of his mind along with the shadows that were stalking him before. Smiling at how much she actually enjoyed the aspects of her…situation, the zombie wasn’t sure whether he wasn’t to argue with it or not. Healing came in handy, especially when the weird stuff really started going down. Volmugger acid most likely would have taken him out if it hadn’t been for his ability to eat a brain and be brand new again. But he had always thought the astral projection was cool, ever since he’d found out about it from Aria. “Not a believer in the grass being greener in someone else’s world, I take it.” It was a statement more than a question since Caleb was already sure he knew the answer to that one.

Inge’s confidence was admirable and he had to wonder why he always seemed drawn to people like that. There was always some kind of pull to them, some awe he held in their presence, because he knew he’d never be able to achieve that level of…well, loving himself. He was too damaged from years and years of being told he would never be good enough. “I hope not.” The statement was said under his breath, the idea of two hundred years on this earth harrowing. 

There was something about people who were confident; others would tend to believe anything they said. Inge spoke with such conviction that Caleb felt like there was no choice but to smile as he thought about what could be in the years to come. His life wasn’t that horrible at the moment, it was true, he just needed to learn how to navigate what he was with ways that made him comfortable. Six years wasn’t long enough to do that. It was what he thought about with new drinks in hand, the zombie tipping his glass to her as that familiar chill of being watched started to return. He would deal with that tomorrow, tonight he’d learn to let loose with a new friend and see where life took him.

“To the world being our oyster.”

[hospitalterrorizer]

diary458

12/27-28/24

friday-saturday

woke up late today

and suddenly i'm very tired! i sent something off as a submission today and had a couple ideas for writing. i should probably write them down as outlines but i kind of want them to ferment. that went okay for me last time i tried that and i have some kind of opening for one.

despite waking up late i really have no energy, hit with extreme drowsiness, i think i should try to work out now and go back to sleep? i'll try.

i worked out and brushed my teeth so i'm a little less tired now, while brushing my teeth i puked a little, i went too far back, or my stomach is too full i guess, i ate these cookies we bought yesterday and forgot how dense they are... that's why i liked them though, so it's crazy to forget that, you only need to eat one but i ate two because i thought i'd want 2, i should have only had 1... anyhow despite having rather good control of my gag reflex, i really got myself and puked a bit. idc if it's tmi, it just strange.

this song is crazy good, the way she sings boy in this brings to mind alex chilton's hey little girl, which is another #creepyclassique.

this whole record is good, some songs veer a little industrial, some a little no-wave, very fun mess, rather diverse.

i've just read, here are the quotations i liked:

"it was a strange waiting silence. it seemed to lie all around him like an invisible country whose borders he was always on the edge of, always in danger of crossing. form time to time as they had walked in the city, he had looked to the side and seen his own form alongside him in a store window, transparent as a snakeskin. it moved beside him like some violent ghost who had already crossed over and was reproaching him from the other side. if he turned his head the opposite way, there would be the dim-witted boy, hanging onto the schoolteacher's coat, watching him. his mouth hung in a lopsided smile but there was a judging sternness about his forehead. the boy never looked lower than the top of his head except bu accident for the silent country appeared to be reflected again in the center of his eyes. it stretched out there, limitless and clear."

just really incredible writing here, or not just, but this 'silent country,' being haunted by oneself, not just some articulation of unconscious feeling, but these impulses, this physical need and sense of fate, abandoned and only left with oneself, this perfect infinity clarity around himself, transparent as snakeskin, transparent as snakeskin, voided of himself, his loose double hulking in the clear dimness of the stores and pupils of the boy who he is compelled to baptize.

"sensations, his friend--no longer a stranger-- said. feelings. what you want is a sign, a real sign, suitable to a prophet. if you are a prophet, it's only right you should be treated like one. when jonah dallied, he was cast three days in a belly of darkness and vomited up in the place of his mission. that was a sign; it wasn't no sensation. (...) the lord speaks to prophets personally and he's never spoke to you, never lifted a finger, never dropped a gesture. and as for that strangeness in your gut, that comes from you, not the lord. when you were a child you had worms. as likely as not you have them again."

more here about the desperate wishing for true signs, for the heavenly to appear, the resplendent and heavy, the burning wheels to sanctify his mission, to make it worth something and for god to speak to him especially. but god is not here paying special mind to him. that strangeness in your gut, that comes from you.

"(...) at night he took them to a restaurant, a different one every night run by a different color of foreigner so that he would learn, he said, how other nationalities ate. he had always left the restaurants hungry, conscious of an intrusion in his works."

here this one is of interest to me just for how it articulates the reactionary mindset within the boy, or perhaps of that particular religious mania. here too, just as well, one sees the racism of the time preserved, as the one restaurant i recall rayber bringing the boy to was an italian one, that was the one scene we got to see of that. also the portion prior to this, about the weak nutrition he gives the boy compared to the old man's food, fatback every morning, interesting to think on, the way strength is written out here.

"the trees rustled thickly and the clearing rose to his mind's eye. he imagined the blackened spot in the center of it between the two chimneys, and saw rising from the ashes the burnt-out frames of his own and his uncle's bed."

this image appeared to me a faint and static-y thing... a ghostly projection of ashen metal frames, skeletal and rising into the sky, 2 or 3 places at once, from heavy trees in a park waving to the empty yellowed clearing and a grey place, anonymized by ash, total destruction. very ghostly and odd. i love it the most as this lunar-collage in broad daylight, a particle of gray rising between two trees and a yellow corona of field situated around the nowhere of two bed frames in different corners arguing, almost. arguing meaning, navigating taking up the same place while being elsewhere simultaneously, a kind of z-fighting.

"the sun, which had been tacking from head cloud to cloud, emerged above the fountain. a blinding brightness fell on the lion's tangled marble head and gilded the stream of water rushing from his mouth. then the light, falling more gently, rested like a hand on the child's white head. his face might have been a mirror where the sun had stopped to watch its reflection."

never knew the verb tack before, a way of moving in sailing against the wind by changing course repeatedly, a time consuming and arduous thing. the other thing here, is this chapter gets into the fountain scene from the perspective of tarwater, and i want to note as well, much of this novel is so recollective, rayber thinks on his past, revealed slowly through the book, taking up chunks of chapters, the beginning was so much history and then the death came so quick, and then there are these moments where shot forth from these histories come confrontations, with ideas in the form of the girl in the church the spiritual carnival, and then in this chapter, or with tarwater and bishop and the fountain, it's all situated in these long explained histories that the book finds itself looking at, even portions we see are carried back out as in this chapter, part of the church scene being here as well, to give us the boy's perspective, but to also situate it in the personal history which is where people change, and these changes or new feelings or sensations only come after some thinking upon them, when they are white-hot they take on the character of nightmare or hallucination or intrusion, when cooled, they are more workable in these narratives. this is why some of her short fiction is i think 'better' horror, as it feels so monstrously hot and intrusive, an explosion at times. here though, the creaking of the universe and our lives is amplified, that things enter personal history and become oddly narrativized and the difference in perspective, it's illuminating, makes me think about the ideas i've had recently, coming to them differently perhaps? i don't know.

"well, that's your sign his friend said-- the sun coming out from under a cloud and falling on the head of a dimwit. something that could happen fifty times a day without no one being the wiser. and it took that schoolteacher to save you and just in time. left to yourself you would have already have done it and been lost forever. listen, he said, you have to quit confusing madness with a mission."

"goddam you, his uncle thought, all i'm trying to do is save you from being a freak."

i wanted to quote this just to bring to mind again the notion of 'freaks' and their place, the psychological angle of rayber and his rationalism, while pregnant with plenty of odd and religious ascetic qualities, he cleaves near to science in this way, and this way of classifying the boy is weighty, it's that he seeks to cure him, as he imagines he may have some cure to himself, though he knows, by his morbid surging love for bishop, his love for his son and need to protect his life while thinking it may have been best for him to not live and not suffer, a wordless being and futureless thing he believes, still for him to be and suffer a precious thing (he even leaps nearly from the boat fearing his boy running from the dock into the water as he and tarwater set off and the woman from the hotel pulls him back), in short he knows there is no cure, still wishing to fit the boy and himself into the grid of social hygiene and wellness and so on, of mental fitness even. it's an odd thing to read for but it's oddly present throughout the book.

"children are cursed with believing."

"flying is the greatest engineering achievement of man, rayber said in an irked voice. 'doesn't it stir your imagination even slightly? if it doesn't i'm afraid there is something wrong with you.' 'i done flew,' tarwater said and suppressed a belch. he was entirely occupied with his nausea which he could feel minutely rising. 'how could you have flown' his uncle asked angrily. 'him and me give a dollar to up in one at a fair once,' he said. ' the houses weren't nothing but matchboxes and the people were invisible-- like germs. i wouldn't give you nothing for no airplane. a buzzard can fly."

there are some other bits from this chapter, maybe i will go back through and pick them out as i'm more awake now... tragic since i'd like to sleep soon... but at least i can sleep whenever i need, basically. i might need to wash my face i guess, i'll do that soon. anyhow, this chapter, i found it really special, it's making palpable something coming and it's the first confrontation where rayber and the boy seem to get anywhere, and it's not one sided with rayber, i think, as with the final quote, we see his faith in man, science and engineering, it's been struck at over the course of the book, the new rationalism of the time not really an escape, a bunch of empty signifiers held up by a man who had tried to kill his son who he loves out of some strange terror for his passions... though the voice in the boy also agrees with rayber in some ways, but there is this optimism on either side of the boy, it feels like, the one the old man had, and the world rayber points to as full of excitement, i think in some ways flannery's gesturing at that belies a kind of odd perspective she has, for instance, the boy's negative refusal of the foreign food, at the same time it's hard to not feel his pessimism in other ways, from so high up, the houses are matchboxes, the people disappear, there are these facts of pain, as the man tries to warm him to something kinder, there is a nightmare the boy is terrified he is not communicating with, this is, well when thinking of wiseblood, you saw hazel become a synthesis of what he was, and what he saw, surrounded by this faithless cynicism, himself trying to take up nonbelief seriously, to wound the church which lied seriously vs. those who expressed faith without believing, he crosses a boundary, and carries forth this intense guilt, this suffering, he enters a world of penance where belief may not even need to figure into it so much as varying intensities that he feels must be expressed, a figure for writhing, seeing a hole through the world. here the boy is aligned with that kind of thing but on either side there is an upward faith in something, but i'd like to complicate that, and say that rayber's scientism is as much a farce to him as it is the boy it feels like, when he says those things, such as, we'll go see our ancestor the fish, it feels like he reckons with that as empty to him, what isn't empty in his moment on the boat here, is his confession of trying to drown bishop to tarwater, that he resisted the urges the old man planted in him to baptize him, he says this:

"the great dignity of man,' his uncle said, 'is his ability to say: i am born once and no more. what i can see and do for myself and my fellowman in this life is all of my portion and i'm content with it. it's enough to be a man,"

this is, more than what he holds up in his odd moments of rationalism, is close to what i think flannery always tries to get at, some catholic experience. which is odd to think on, and if i'm being honest what he says resonates but in a political way, and i don't think she means it in those terms, but i think we can all admit there is something of jesus lodged in him, here, or his fantasy of saving all children from a faith that would take advantage of them. just as well, the friend inside the boy often sounds like rayber, that the boy is seeing things, consumed by a madness planted there, that these signs he senses are nothing, that god has not sent the true experience of a prophet to him, a mirror of rayber almost. i'm curious where all these thoughts will end up, in the novel. also i would like to note that he pukes, the boy, feeling guilty and making himself sick on what he ate before the boat, the guilt is something interesting to think about, guilt over failing his grandfather maybe, guilt over not being not a freak, too, maybe. the world makes the truant child guilty, and here it seems that it is not enough to be a man, or that to be a man is to be measured constantly, under analysis and observation and measured against history, or by history, by narratives of history and reactionary flotsam, race is in an odd place in the novel, the boy is complicated like rayber, rayber seeking to educate the boy on those outside himself, and the boy essentially being racist, though it only comes up a few times but enough to be a fact about him. i was wondering when i started the book if rayber's rationalism would end in him being some kind of extreme racist as well, i don't know why but i imagined that, instead he is a sort of, it seems at least at this point, progressive figure, who i think flannery sympathizes with but she is constantly focused on this subterranean nightmare of existence, the silent country seen in dark glass of stores and our second selves transparent as snakeskin...

here is another thing:

"the first sight that met his eyes when he got out of the car at the cherokee lodge was the little lake. it lay there, glass-like, still , reflecting a crown of trees and an infinite overarching sky. it looked so unused that it might only the moment before have been set down by four strapping angels for him to baptize the child in. a weakness working itself up from his knees, reached his stomach and came upward and forced a tremor in his jaw. steady, his friend said, everywhere you go you'll find water. it wasn't invented yesterday. but remember: water is made for more than one thing. hasn't the time come? don't you have to do something at last, one thing to prove you ain't going to do another? hasn't your hour of dallying passed?"

i found the description of the lake moving, the reflection of the crown of trees and the infinite sky, and the angles planting it upon the earth, a tiny mirror set among greenery from upon a hill. the dialogue here from the friend also recalls what the boy says to the woman at the lodge the chapter before, about doing one thing to make sure you don't do another. odd compulsions grip him.

wrote more, i thought about blanchot while washing my face (now moisturizing...), and that offered some guidance. something about the broken-up-ness of how i remember his writing, the fragmentary and strange qualities, and then the narrativizing of flannery, neither are really evident i think but they helped me realized what has to happen, which is i just have to say what was in my head but then there was a way to that that felt emotionally right.

now i guess i'm going to play with legos... sorry...

okay i built one half of the set... the other half is tom nook's store... and i really had a lot of fun and started to feel really nostalgic + sad there weren't sets like this when i was a kid. the one i built tonight reminds me of favorite lego piece, this one:

i can't explain why other than really loving it when i saw it at my cousin's house as a kid. the half of the set i built tonight was rosie's house, she is a good villager, though i haven't played any animal crossing past new leaf... i need to find my freaking ds actually idk where i put it. i love it... my mom got me the animal crossing skin 3ds... animal crossing makes me so nostalgic it's messed up. they were so special to me, that one and the gamecube one... waow... when i find my ds i might make a new character on there and stuff.

i took some pics of the set... here:

i love how the flash makes it look, it seems more dreamy, which is kind of what legos are, this set is also so cute you want to hug it but it's all sharp corners too, and hard plastic. a huggable 90 degree angle. i am really elated, after building this.

oh, also, i made a song, now. because i saw a video of someone playing with some modular stuff and it sounded cool so i wanted to do something noisy. it ended up cute but that is #cool to me.

well now it's 5 am and i thought i'd sleep earlier, but i guess i expected to not... today was a really good day though. my gf watched me build the legos... she was really impressed with how fast i was, which isn't really a cool thing about anybody, no one else would find that cool, i think maybe you shouldn't find it cool, but she really does love me, she sleepily watched me build it because it made her happy... wow i want to cry now. oh well,

i should sleep soon,

so,

byebye!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[truly-morgan]

[Gumshoe taking care of tired Miles]

Gumshoe + Edgeworth | Ace Attorney 25-03-2022

Many would probably see detective gumshoe as being a bit dumb, not that great at his job despite always getting the big cases, impulsive, easy to hurt and naive in his loyalty to a certain prosecutor with a bad reputation.

And maybe some will say he doesn't do his job very well by missing important clues.

But he knew there was something he was excelling in.

He could read the level of annoyance in Edgeworth's frown eyebrow, could see with ease when the circle under his eyes were starting to be a bit too dark, noticed immediately when his eyes would become unfocused from exhaustion.

he could tell to which point Edgeworth is tired or stressed by decreasing times between each "pay reduction" he was being threatened with if he couldn't find what the prosecutor needed.

The way he knew at what point he could pay more attention to Edgeworth when the man has been working many long nights to see him eyeing with interest the couch in his office when he believes the detective isn't looking at him.

He took pride in himself to be able to read the man like this. He knew many would miss all these details, would only assume that Edgeworth had a bad temper or looked down on them.

some would say his loyalty was naive, but Detective Gumshoe didn't think so.

over the years he had seen parts of Edgeworth others hadn't, he was seeing him as a friend and was ready to help him out in anything. He cared about the younger man.

It's his loyalty and care that sometimes pushed him to lie a little to him when Edgeworth came close to crashing down from exhaustion.

"Do you have the report I ask you to get me?"

"Sorry sir, we are still investigating it at the moment, I'll bring it as soon as I get it" he would dare say in those times, knowing the report was safely tucked inside his jacket.

He would notice the strange mix of relief and annoyance passing through Edgeworth's eyes at the new, waving him off immediately asking him to get it as soon as possible.

The detective would comply, although he would not run very far, staying close to the prosecutor's office. He would make his way back to his friend's office, sneaking a glance in only to see the exhausted Edgeworth sleep on his couch, seemingly allowing himself a small nap.

this is the moment where the detective would sneak in, carefully placing a blanket on Edgeworth so he doesn't catch a cold. A blanket he kept in his car and took a "short walk" to go and get for the prosecutor.

He would then silently leave the report on the desk, sometimes daring to leave a note reminding him to take a break for lunch if lunch was close by.

The next time he would pass by the prosecutor's office the blanket would be neatly folded on the couch, silently waiting for him to pick it up again and tuck it away in his car.

They never mention it, this whole charade has been going on for so long now, they don't need to mention it really.

The detective still remembers the first time he did something like this, the prosecutor had been pretty angry at him for doing such a thing.

"Why didn't you wake me up?" he had asked while giving him back his trench coat.

"I thought sir deserved a little break" he had replied to the then even younger prosecutor, who had been working himself too hard over the past weeks.

"Don't do this again, just wake me up next time" he sighed before going back to the report he was just given.

But detective gumshoe never did this. He only kept doing it, even buying a nice Burgundy blanket that he could use.

Edgeworth needed breaks and if the man wouldn't really allow himself some then he would be the one allowing them on him.

He knew it was not part of his detective's work, but he was very happy that the man allowed him to care for him in little ways like this.

Others may think the prosecutor wasn't worthy of loyalty, but to him, it was their loss.

He was more than proud to say he cared and was loyal to someone he saw as a friend.

No rumours or bad-mouthing would change this.

====

I don't know why, I've been feeling soft for Gumshoe in the last couple of days. This man truly tries his best and I cannot see him as anything but loyal to Edgeworth. this man needs a good raise

Original

[jaybird-fanfics]

Villain Roommate |Chapter Three|

That's twice now you've healed Dabi, the second time you did it because you were forced too. Now he knew your name and where you lived, it wasn't looking good for you. A dangerous criminal knew way too much about you. It was all you could think about, you barely could focus on work, which upset your boss. He threatened to fire you if you didn't quote "get it together". If only he knew what was going on in your head. If only he knew the danger you were in.

You did try calling the cops after Dabi had left you, nothing much was done outside of a search around your neighborhood. Other than that, they just told you to call them or a hero again if you were to spot him. A lot of good that did...Now what? Were you just suppose to sit and wait to see if Dabi would suddenly pop up again? Only for him to threaten you to not call the cops? Were you supposed to just heal him whenever he needed or else die by fire!?

You screamed into your pillow out of frustration. You felt so hopeless. Like there was nothing you could do.

Suddenly your phone rang. It was your father. Oh great, it just keeps getting better and better. You considered ignoring it, but he'd just call back and when you answer it'd be "why didn't you answer my calls? blah blah blah." So with a sigh you answered. "Hello?"

'Hey Y/n! How are you doing?'

"Fine I guess." You lied.

'Well that's good. I was just calling to check up on you, just wondering how you've been and such. Oh and of course, always offer you a spot at that hero agency.'

"Dad." You mutter. "I'm not interested."

'I know it's not the best, but it's better than that job you have now. You'd be paid more for one thing and you know you could be putting you quirk to better use.'

That's what it was all about. Money. Sure it's great, but it's not so great when your only parent cares more about it than you. The only reason he wants you in that agency is so that you can make him more money than he already has. The fact that he has so much money, is why he would get you into a side kick position without having to go to Japan's top school for heroes in training. But you were never interested in becoming a hero. And you still weren't, yet, he doesn't seem to care.

"Dad, for the last time. I'm really not interested. I'm happy with my job." A lie. "I get paid fairly well and I'm making a decent life for myself. I don't want to be some side kick."

There was a brief pause on the other line. Then a sigh.

'You'll change your mind one of these days.Goodbye Y/n.'

"Goodbye da-" He hung up before you could finish. You set your phone aside and flopped down on the couch. Not really paying attention to what was on TV.

That is until his face appeared on the screen. You narrowed you eyes in disgust, then you heard the reporters speak.

"We now have identification of the ones responsible for multiple bank robberies, as well as today's gas station fire which caused an explosion leading to multiple injured and hospitalized."

You felt a pang of guilt. An explosion that left people hospitalized...It was almost too horrible to think about. And you played a part in it. If you hadn't healed Dabi that night, would this have been avoided? You felt sick.

"Japan's most notorious band of evil doers, also known as The League Of Villains, crime activity has gone up over the past week. Heroes have advised for citizens to be on high alert, report any crime immediately regardless if the cause was from The League Of Villains or not, and to never stray into unknown pathways or walk home alone at night. That is all for today's report, and now the weather with-"

You shut off the TV. "Yeah, if I had only stayed on my normal way home none of this would be happening. Stupid construction work." You said as you sat the remote down. Your phone buzzed again, but you ignored it. Whoever it was, you didn't feel like talking. It buzzed a few more times before you finally grabbed your phone to look at the messages.

Unknown Number: 'Hey sweetheart.'

Unknown Number: 'Ignoring me huh? Understandable, but you really should answer me.'

Unknown Number: 'Come on bitch I know you hear these messages.'

You couldn't believe it. Dabi had somehow gotten your number, but how? You didn't know what to do, you just sat there, shaky hands holding your phone.

Unknown Number: 'I can tell you're reading these.'

Finally your fingers slowly tapping at the screen.

(Y/n): 'How did you get my number?'

Unknown Number: 'I have my ways of figuring these kinds of things out. In other words, don't fucking worry about it.'

You glare at the screen before typing again.

(Y/n): 'I have all the right to be worried about it! You somehow got my number and now a dangerous criminal is texting me like it's nothing!'

Unknown Number: 'God you're so whiny. You're lucky your quirk is useful otherwise I would have toasted your ass by now.'

(Y/n): 'What do you want from me!? I'm not going to heal you again, so don't even bother asking!'

Unknown Number: 'I don't want shit, just testing to see if I really got the right number. And who says you have a choice? I'll use you as many times as I damn well please. You got yourself into this mess, inviting a criminal into your home and healing him, now you're gonna deal with the consequences.'

You didn't have much room to argue. But had you known, you would never done that. But could you really bring yourself to say you would rather him die? At least, die in front of you, that is. What if he had been a normal person? Would you have risked ignoring them and letting them die?

You almost threw your phone in anger, but you kept yourself calm as you texted again.

(Y/n): 'Just how long are you planning to do this for? Until one of us gets caught? Do you know what will happen to me if I'm caught aiding a villain, I'll be sent to prison for the rest of my life!'

Unknown Number: 'Yes, I'm well aware of that. I just don't give a shit. If you get caught that just means I'll have to go back to the old way of getting my wounds treated. Did you know, there are doctors for villains? Yeah, they're actually pretty capable too. They just want cash in return, but you? You're all free to use.'

(Y/n): 'And what if I start charging you?'

Unknown Number: 'Good one. Anyway, I'll be seeing you sweetheart. Try not to get too lonely without me around.'

Finally the texts stopped coming. You felt more sick as the thought of Dabi showing up whenever he wanted lingered. The thought of you being his personal healer made you more upset than anything. You wanted nothing to do with him or any villain for that matter.

Not after what happened...

Previous | Next

[northwest-cryptid]

Sometimes I feel sad about the fact that the people who practically pioneer some communities/fandoms are so quickly forgotten unless they aggressively make themself an authority on it and thus ruin the very community/fandom they were one of the original individuals in.

Like I don't think these people necessarily deserve recognition or awards for "being the first" or "liking it before it was cool" but it's weird to me because there are days when I have that moment of like "oh yea no one knows what Proj Moon is; the only people who know about or like Lob Corp are like, me and the maybe 30 people I talk to on Discord about it..." and then I hear Library of Ruina music in a youtube video from a guy with millions of subscribers and I sorta have that moment of like "hey wait a second..."

Again I don't think people really deserve some kind of award or like, "fame" for being the first to like a thing; but I think it's weird that a lot of people I have spoke to about it have essentially reported the same thing; that they feel like their community/fandom was completely swept out from under them because they didn't somehow manage to keep in the eye of the public when the number of people engaging with the thing was rapidly increasing.

The only real way to do that is to either already be a popular creator within a community (meaning that casual enjoyment of the thing, or even having it as a special interest; doesn't matter unless you create some form of art that is conventionally thought of as good. Eliminating any representation of more obscure or unique works in favor of the same "good anime art" that follows the exact same rules as everything else that is thought of as conventionally good.) Or to make yourself some form of authority over the fandom/community by trying to create some kind of official standing or hierarchy within the fandom which WE ALL KNOW NEVER GOES POORLY!

I'm not calling for any sort of change or trying to say this is a good or bad thing; I'm just sort of stating an opinion as someone who has sort of experienced this more recently where I noticed that, not just me and my 30-something other people who enjoyed it; but even other little pocket communities I've spoken to within the PM fandom have this sort of "hey what the hell? Where'd all these people come from?!" feeling towards things within community/fandom spaces.

I honestly anticipated this happening ever since Ina streamed Lob Corp for like, 2 streams since that put it on a lot of people's radars. However I don't think it was until mid-way through Library of Ruina that things honestly really took off. It's a bit of a double edged sword because ask any PM fan and we'll tell you we strive to get people into the series and franchise and such because it's actually really good and we love this thing and want to share it with more people. However there's also this other side to that where it's like "oh hey where are you going with this wild headcanon about my favorite shit? Wait did you pay any attention to the plot? OH GOD NO STOP MAKING THEM INTO MARKETABLE PLUSHES! HEY DON'T CALL YOURSELF AN AUTHORITY! OH NO"

I don't think I'll ever feel like "part of the PM Community/Fandom" again but I also think that's fine. It's just gotten far larger than I will ever feel comfortable participating in on a grander scale, but I will continue to love the franchise and be my own little part of it with my own little community of like-minded people who want to talk about and enjoy the games and lore and such. It's just weird to experience something go from being an extremely obscure niche thing to being so mainstream that people who only joined the community recently are deemed more of an authority on it than people who were making mods for Lob Corp back during almost original release. Not gonna lie I'm kind of worried about posting this because I feel like people are going think this is some hipster shit about "we were here first we should be the authority!" Which cannot be further from my personal belief. I don't think any fandom/community needs any form of authority what so ever, and where there is need for some form of authority (such as speedrun moderators and such) people should be of mixed interests and backgrounds and not just all be from the same friend group or whatever (no I'm not vague posting here, while I am fairly sure that the entire speedrun mod team is from "the cool kids club" (not sure if that's actually what the translation team calls themself but it's what I've heard them referred to as) I don't really have anything against that, it's more so that I see the same names any time there's any form of "authority" within the fandom/community and I do think that should change but I also don't engage with it enough to matter; though I admit that's also WHY I don't engage with it.) Like I think every "authority" group needs to have some random dude from the community who is just an unbias person from the community who just enjoys the thing.

Yea don't read into this too much, if you can't already tell I'm very distant from the current community/fandom as much as I try to be a part of it; so don't go getting offended or up in arms because of some random bullshit I say; trust me it's not worth your time because it literally will not change anything. Not to say I'm stubborn or anything just to say I literally don't engage with any of the community/fandom's official stuff anyways so at the end of the day my opinion on this matter literally does not matter and you can safely ignore me as just a random person going off in the corner. Like I am heavily debating just drafting this post but I also kinda want to post it because I like to say my thoughts.

[laura-60]

Appointment of trainer

Chris got up and went to call Elizabeth. Eric came back and told me that dad in law had left a

message on Elizabeth's e-mail. As Megan sat down, I said "I want to

talk later, but right now I just want to sit here with you Mom."

Magan reminded me, "If Elizabeth comes, It's OK if you talk to her too. I always

followed her lead, and she can probably explain some things I can't."

After we'd sat enjoying each other's company for a long while,

asked Magan, "When was the last time someone spanked you?"

"Well, your father in law spank me regularly before and after we were married,

but he never did it hard enough. "

Before Magan knew it, she was lying in Eric's lap on the sofa, pulling her shirt up so her

bare belly rested against his thighs as she settled down on. Eric's hand came down on

her tattooed cheek, then an experienced rain of blows followed. Mom in law told softly "No harder! Randomly hit my cheeks, and land one in the middle every once

in a while. Don't be so regular, make me wonder when the next one is coming." I see ,she was smiling in pain .

Eric was nothing like Chris, but she actually did have one small orgasm as she

lay in son's lap. When she finally had enough, she made no attempt to get up, but

instead just lay there and let him massage her back and bottom. She wanted our

relationship to change, but I was uncertain how to proceed and my mom in law obviously

wasn't comfortable being submissive in front of me.

Elizabeth called back the next day and told Chris she'd be here in a few days. She

didn't ask, just simply stated when she would be here and for us to be ready.

She was strangely silent about Magan's past or why Chris not called her sooner. Instead,

she talked about Magan's corporation. She was now the director of one of the major

divisions, and would be moving back to Paris to help manage a new branch

which included some hotels in the Southwest, and several new resorts in France

and several interesting islands. She cut off, and said Chris just have to see

for ourself when Magan tried to get more information out of her from her Master.

She came into our house two days later in a flurry of activity. "The rest of my

bags are outside. Go get them Please.", in a commanding tone was all she said to

me. A few minutes later I had all of her bags in the spare bedroom, and returned

to the living room. I found Elizabeth and Magan sitting together on the sofa

chatting like old friends.

"Come over here" Elizabeth commanded. "You waited far to long to call me, and

you know you'll have to pay for your mistake. Drop your shorts and panties and

lie on my lap."

"What about Mom( Magan)?" I protested.

Magan shocked me, "Laura been asking about the photograph and how many times you

spanked her."

Quietly, I dropped them, and stepped out of the shorts and panties. As I stood

in front of her in just my tanktop, she pinched my pubic hair between my

finger "This will have to go." I was told.

I climbed into her lap and lay down across her thighs. Magan was sitting close

to Elizabeth, and I couldn't help but brush .

"Put your head in her lap" was Elizabeth's command. She grabbed my arms and

arranged them at my sides with my hands tucked under my thighs and against my

mound. My chin rested in Nagan's lap with my cheek against her crotch. I could

distinctly smell the scent of my mom in law's sex as I lay there. It was clear that both of

us were becoming aroused. Magan caressed my face as I waited for Elizabeth to

start; I blushed again, not from the impending spanking but because I sensed

something happening between my mom in law and myself.

Chris and Eric also joined. Chris confirmed that Elizabeth will train us in submissive lifestyle.

As Chris announced about our training together

suddenly a hand came down on my ass very hard! Elizabeth is much

stronger than Eric , and I arched my back, raising my head and letting out a

loud scream. I fell back down onto Magan's lap, my breasts straining against

my thin top and rubbing hard against my mom in law's thigh as another blow landed

on the other cheek. I cried out again, and raised up again with the second blow.

Elizabeth continued in an irregular rhythm, landing blows on either check

randomly. I bucked wildly, as my tits continued to rub against my mom in law's lap with

each blow, and my top rose almost to my chest.

Soon I was crying uncontrollable as the blows rained down. Elizabeth changed her

pattern and now her hand hit me between the cheeks, and landed on my slit every

few blows. As she spanked me, she would run her hand along my slit and asshole

on the upstrokes. My hands reached for my pussy, and I began to finger myself as

I received my chrishment. Not surprising, Magna's hand reached down and

fingered her own naked sex . I'd discussed masturbation with my

Mom in law, and had think it was normal, but of course neither of us had ever

caught the other jerking off. I continued to rub my breasts against my mom in law,

on purpose I think. It was impossible to think clearly, but all of a sudden I

wanted my relationship with my mom in law to change. So with each blow, I wiggled my

upper body to stimulate my hard nipples against my mom in law's thigh or side.

The punishment stopped as soon as it began, and Elizabeth's hand openly and

tenderly caressed my bottom as she softly soothed me. After a few minutes, she

patted me, and said, "OK, you can get up now. I shouldn't have to tell you,go

put your bottoms in the hamper." I stood, but didn't attempt to adjust my top

I left it bunched around my torso.

Magan shocked me again, as the wicked little wench added "Why not have her put

the top in the hamper too. It doesn't conceal anything anyway."

I grinned at the comment. Not because of the comment, but because I knew the

answer. Elizabeth was not one to be trifled with.

Acidly, "Since it's your idea, go with her and take all of your clothes off

too.", came the reply, "Looking at both of you for the rest of the night appeals

to me." We both nervously walked to the laundry room. I was beginning to be

afraid of where this was going even as I wanted it, and fortunately felt that

Elizabeth would take the choice from me. I gingerly rubbed my bare ass as we

walked, Magan's joining mine occasionally.

At the laundry room, I quickly pulled the top over my head, and threw it into

the basket. I pulled my tennis shoes off, and threw my socks after the top for

good measure. Magan was slower, and I had to revert to my daughter in law's role.

"Hurry up and strip! I'm sure you've figured out Elizabeth doesn't like to

wait!" With Magan's prompting and a little blush, she quickly pulled her own clothes

off and added them to the pile. We stood completely naked in front of each other

. We both looked each other over as

we stood there. From comparisons, one could tell she was my mom in laaw as I

remembered, her body looked just like mine when I get married.

Her breasts were as large as mine, but were more pointed but sagged . Mine were much more rounded,they didn't sag but they were

obviously mature and full. Likewise, her butt was very athletic and trim. Her

pussy was almost a mirror image of mine,the only differences seemed to be that

her pussy was waxed where as mine was blade, and I never knew she'd started waxing her

lips. I made a note to wax my own during my next bath before Elizabeth said

anything else.

Snapping out of my reverie, mom in law commanded me to come back to the den with her.

"We'll get new punishment if we don't hurry!" Elizabeth smiled as the two of

us walked back into the den. I and Magan were only a little bit timid as she

sat back down on the sofa and Magan I awkwardly tried to find somewhere that wouldn't

hurt my tender ass. I finally settled onto her stomach on the floor in front of

Eric and his father as Elizabeth started to talk.

"See? Both of you look much better like this. As she talk,she insert her two fingers from either hand in our moist slit. "Laura and Magan I'll enjoy seeing your red

bottom for the rest of the evening. Laura, watch your step."As she start to talk ,she show her wet fingers to Eric and Sir Chris " See,they are responding quit equally as slut . I will see that both loss all inhibitions infront of each other "

That's why we have chosen you as their trainer Elizabeth " told Eric

We settled down to watch whatever movie Elizabeth had rented. This time, Magan lay on

the floor, propped up against the sofa. Elizabeth sat down on the sofa, and I

curled up next to her. She hit the play button on the remote, and settled back

against the end of the sofa, and guided my head into her lap.

My pussy and ass clenched again in apprehension as I realized she'd rented a

movie from a well-known lesbian production company. The company's movies were

tasteful movies meant for the lesbian community, not hardcore porn, but it still

made me a bit uncomfortable to watch a movie with my mom in law that would

probably express genuine love between women. After it started I forgot all that,

as I became engrossed in the movie, and lay motionless in Elizabeth's lap as I

stared at the screen.

Partway through the movie, I had to stretch, and happened to glance down at my

Mom in law on the other side of Elizabeth. She was now lying completely on the floor on her side

with a pillow under her head. Her hand was down between her legs slowly rubbing

herself as she watched the movie. Before returning my gaze to the movie, I

looked up at Elizabeth. She saw me, and smiled at me then ran her hand

through my hair and turned her attention back to the movie. I visualized Magan

on the sofa masturbating as we watched the movie .First I thought there was

something wrong with it, but Elizabeth had told me masturbation was normal. I felt

guilty when she looked up at us, and caught me with my own hand idly stroking my

slit. As the movie neared the end, and one of the characters finally got the

girl she wanted, I could hear Magan was moaning and moving more vigorously as her

hand stroked more intensely? I actually felt proud as I noticed she'd had a

mild cum there at the side of Elizabeth.

As the credits rolled, Elizabeth stood up and announced it was late and time for

bed. I politely went to Elizabeth to say goodnight. A twinge went through

Magan as she saw Elizabeth's hand cupping her daughter in law's ass as hugged me . I

received not only a feel on my ass, but a long wet kiss to my neck and face as I

spied Magan look back at us on the way up. I wasn't the only one aroused.

I wasn't as bold and didn't bring myself to a climax. I prayed Elizabeth would

take both of us in her bed.

Elizabeth was sitting in one of the straight-backed chairs this time. Manga

curled up at one end of the sofa to watch my me gingerly lay

herself across Elizabeth's lap. Elizabeth arranged her arms and hands the

same as she'd arranged mine before she'd spanked me. As I watched, She raised

her hand, and brought it down against my mom in law's ass. She cried out with the

blow, and arched her back just like I'd done.

The blows continued, raining down randomly on either cheek. Magan bawled

uncontrollably punctuated by yells with each blow as Elizabeth held her down,

and delivered her punishment. I hadn't seen my mom in law cry like that since I had been married. As Elizabeth spanked her, she explained, "During training you can expect appropriate punishment when you do

something wrong. Please note, you'll be rewarded when I find appropriate, but disappoint me and you both will

be punished." I wasn't surprised to see Magan start to rub her pussy furiously

with her hands and hear her cries change their tone.

Elizabeth let Magan lie there and cry for a few minutes after she'd finished

her punishment. Her right hand then massaged Magan's bottom instead of

spanking, and she caressed my in law's face and hair with the other. Magan

started kissing her hand and thanking her for the deserved punishment as

Elizabeth continued to console her. With one last touch on the bottom, Magan

was ordered to get up, that it was time for our trainer to say good night.

[nardonotes]

26 oct '24

4:30am

lads.... (≖_≖ ) ok first of all,, there's going to be two posts with the 26th because im basically writing about the 25th rn but it's 4:30am so it's the 26th ANYWAYS-

so i woke up late asl,, there wasn't a specific time to go in my work experience anyways, and the last time i went it was like 12pm,, so ?? they teased me for it a little bit but like y'all are not paying me AT ALL also im going fucking warehouse work when i should be sitting upstairs with the graphic designers and watching them work so i get an insight of what this career path looks like for me in the future. ⁽⁽(੭ꐦ •̀Д•́ )੭*⁾⁾ so like.... i will SHOW UP WHENEVER I WANT TO FUCKING SHOW UP. and im not filling that fucking 60hrs omfg,,,, literally just gna lie to their asses because i did so much work today with no break. literally free fucking labour. but god bless i dont have to think about it for another week. ( ≧ᗜ≦)

when i got home, i literally knocked tf out. like i was soooo exhausted. wait i just lied- before i knocked out, i ate CRAB !!! (one of my favourite food, i love seafood a lot) and went to the repair store with my sister to help her get her laptop fixed. (¬⤙¬ ) OH! and i also got my film i developed. im kind of done with getting them printed in though,, i think i'll just take digitals from now on, and if i want certain film printed, ill either do it myself or pay less than like a tenner for a few.

so where was i- THEN I KNOCKED OUT!!!! i slept at 6pm and woke up at like 11pm? i felt so good after though,, i ate, cleaned my room, washed my sheets, CHANGED MY SHEETS EEEEEEKK!!!!!!!1 i love love love new sheets :33 now im writing this. im kind of hungry though... im so glad i don't have to do shit tomorrow. i'm going to watch IVE stuff because it's been so long since i have and i need my coping mechanism to cope my mechanism. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

hmm,,,, what else. oh right the girl; HOUUUGGHHH...,.,..,..,.,,,......,. like/... this minor (which is not so minor bc we're grown enough to communicate) issue just turned me off so bad like... she's not very good at communicating. and the more i think about it, it's like,, she didn't even apologise for cancelling.. so like u clearly dgaf. so... (¬_¬") idgaf anymore./ i kinda lost interest after this,, if she wants to raincheck properly with me, she can put in the effort bc i can't be assed.. i already expressed that i was lookin forward to it- and that i'd like to know when she's free, and if her roommate doesn't fuck up her plans again (which i also think is just an excuse. ahem.) it's fine tho really,, i watched wony vids last night and was like wow... i don't need nobody but her ( ´ཀ` ) like wow... shit got me droolin ( ´ཀ` ) ( ´ཀ` ) ( ´ཀ` )//..

LOL. anyways. im excited to just rest and recharge this week. i'm going to try and not make so much plans with anyone either because.. i need this time alone xD....

ok goodnight/morning. im going to find something to eat, and then watch some stupid youtube shit!! eeek!!!!! so excited!!!!!!! <3 never kill yourself. <33

song of the day: Mercury by Ravyn Lenae °❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･