#why oh why must theater be a once only thing

[seawitchkaraoke]

went to see Cats last night (christmas gift from my parents) and it was very funny (duh, cats is always fun unless it’s the 2019 movie).

They made some really fun/smart/interesting choices which I hugely enjoyed such as:

-Old Deutoronomy took a much more active role than he often does moving around the stage a lot more, singing the first few lines of a few songs such as Skimbleshanks, which worked really well, he was actually leading the jellicles instead of just watching their antics

- on that note though the one and only thing I didn’t like about this was that Old Deutoronomy hugged both Gus and Grizzabella and also misto after getting rescued by him. Idk. Hugging just feels? Not cat like? I didn’t like it  but it was literally just 3 hugs so i’ll forgive it

- they made the VERY clever choice of moving Pekes and the Pollicles after Gus the theatre cat and having Gus play the great Rumpus Cat. I loved that bc it gave pekes and pollcles more weight (instead of just being ‘’the cats put on a play inside the play’’ it’s now ‘’Gus is old and kind of sad and wants to reprise his old role so the cats encourage him to do just that and they all put on a play together’’ it gave Gus more room while still cutting  Growltiger’s last stand (which let’s be real is always cut. Like. I’ve seen cats 3 times and they all cut that song which is..... sad).

- just in general the songs all connected really well, the transitions between them always felt really natural and good which you don’t always get with Cats. The flow was really good.

- they made Tugger and misto somehow even gayer by having misto not just magic the rainbow banner out of a hat and dancing around on stage with it but also then linking arms with tugger and skipping over said rainbow banner and just adding a lot of misto/tugger arm in arm dancing to the song in general

- they also replaced Tugger’s ‘’ladies and gentlemen...’’ with ‘’felines and friends’’ which is a small touch, but I am nonbinary so it made me happy

- just. Tugger. He’s always so fun but this one had SUCH gremlin energy it was incredible, he was shorter than other Tuggers I’ve seen which didn’t make him any less hot (judging by my mom’s reaction to him lol) but it just. idk it added something that he was shorter than both misto and munkustrap and also was constantly climbing onto tall things when he needed to just exist in the background, like he’s hot and he’s absolutely one of the leaders and yes he’s respected but also he’s a little gremlin cat who wants to be tall

- munkustrap who’s always been one of my faves was incredible as always and he was very annoyed at tugger the faces he made in the background of tugger’s introduction song were hilarious, he took great care of the kittens as always and his fight with macavity was?? so good? idk if they made it longer or what but it somehow hit me more than it usually does, the way once he went down all the other cats who’d been scared ganged up on macavity? they love him so much this is so cute

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: Movie Theaters

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)

Alien: Why are you taking me to a dark place? Alien: Do you plan to murder me? Human: What? No! Alien: I thought we were friends, Human Jim. Human: I’m not going to- Alien: I will not go down so easily, Human Jim! Alien: *Begins sprinting away in opposite direction Human: *watches friend run away… Human: (Shouts) This was your idea you idiot! --------------------

Alien: So people come here to watch a moving picture? Human: We call them “Movies”. Alien: But then the same picture is only on these giant screens for a few of your rotations before it can be seen on your smaller screens? Human: Yes. Alien: So really you are just paying to see your “movie” on a bigger screen? Human: Yes. Alien: How does that make sense? Human: Some movies just need to be seen on bigger screen. Alien: *Phissh *Proceeds to watch “Return of the King” on movie screen. Alien: Sobbing I was wrong. Human: Damn right you were. --------------------

Human: Now remember, snack counters are where movie theaters really shiv you for money. Alien: It can’t be that bad. *At register after getting snacks Clerk: So that is one popcorn, one soda, and two boxes of candy which will total sixty seven credits. Alien: SIXTY SEVEN!?!?!? Alien: That’s nearly triple what we paid for tickets! Clerk: We also now offer organ harvesting options if you don’t have credits. Human: You can’t be- Human: *Sees alien friend lifting up shirt and cutting open stomach Human: You can’t be serious. Alien: Whispers It’s okay, I have thirteen livers and I only use six on any given day. -----------------

Alien: Where should we sit? Human: We could sit at the top; it’s more recluse and no people behind us but perverts tend to hangout up there. Alien: Wait….what? Alien: Why would perverts go to a movie- Alien: *Realization Alien: Oh. Alien: OH. Alien: OH!!! Human: Yeah…… Human: Just be thankful we aren’t seeing a “My Little Pony” movie. Alien: Surely it can’t be that bad. Human: I once saw a group of ushers break out night sticks to shoo them out, and they didn’t leave until they “finished”. Alien: *Barfs. ---------------------

Alien: Why does the movie listing say it starts at a certain time but then must watch twenty minutes of ads for other movies before it even starts? Human: It’s a misdirect. Human: It gives people a chance to get snacks and then make it to the movie without missing anything. Alien: No wonder your species is weak. Alien: You cater to those who cannot manage their time properly. Human: Oh that’s not how we measure strength. Human: The real test is being able to control your bladder for three hours so you don’t miss a single thing. Alien: I will admit that is impressive. Human: My record is twelve hours. Alien: Why would you endure such pain? Human: When you watch the extended editions of LOTR nothing less is acceptable. --------------------

Alien & Human: *Patiently watching movie Annoying kids behind them: *Kicking chair Human: Whispers back Please stop. Annoying kids: *Continues kicking Human: Last warning, please stop. Annoying kids: *Snickers and continues kicking. Alien: Looks at human Now? Human: Nods They were warned. Alien: Roars and leaps back into children Annoying kids: Scream in terror as alien throws one of them into the screen. Alien: Looks at human friend as they are holding second child in air Are you sure this is acceptable? Human: *Points at surrounding audience cheering and clapping Human: Crowd justice has spoken. Alien: *Shrugs and flings remaining child into nearby wall. ----------------------

Alien: When is it acceptable to speak in a movie? Human: If a movie is terrible and the crowd’s commentary is more entertaining. Alien: You’ve seen this happen? Human: Oh yeah. Human: Last time it was for a movie about three masked killers hunting down some people in a trailer park. Human: We all ended up cheering for the killers as the lead’s acting was terrible. Human: When they actually died we started cheering; the person next to me started weeping tears of joy. --------------------

Alien: *Whispers to human Alien: That human next to you is recording the movie on their phone. Human: I noticed. Alien: Are you not going to do anything? Human: Not unless their phone brightness gets brighter. Alien: Do you not care for the movie industry? Human: No. Human: *Notices light get brighter Human: But I do care about my own time enjoying it. Human: *Proceeds to grab drink and pour it on phone human, triggering a massive fight which has him and his alien friend thrown out of theater.

[starzioo]

𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓. 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐎 𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐅𝐎𝐘.

Hiii! This is a DracoxFem!Reader one-shot! In this story you are a ballerina. I saw this post of the Slytherin boys x a ballerina and I could just imagine Draco being absolutely in love with her. So here it is I hope you like!

WARNINGS: NONE <3

You sit on the stage of the Royal Opera House in London. Tightly wrapping the dusty pink ribbons around your ankles. Today was your rehearsal day for the production of The Nutcracker. You had been casted as the Sugar Plum Fairy. Most people would take this role as being easy and simple. But oh no, they would be terribly wrong. The movements you made had to be fluid and effortless, while also being regal. You sigh before standing back up and fixing your rehearsal tutu. You head over to your starting mark and give the signal to the director to start the music.

=

DRACO POV

I get out of the muggle-car behind my father. 'Muggles really think that this is the peak of transportation?' I think to myself as I look back at the black car behind me. "Good morning Mr. Malfoy. It's a pleasure to have you here again! Mr. Evan's is in a meeting right now and told me to tell you that he'll meet with you as soon as possible." A woman who I assume is Mr. Evan's assistant spoke to my father. "M'Alright." My father says obviously annoyed with the muggles tardiness. "Right this way then." The woman says with her smile not faltering. She walks a couple paces ahead of my father while I linger behind him. We step inside of the building. The interior looks to be made for royals. The architecture being elegant. She leads us down a couple hallways before stopping at a big door. "You may sit and wait here. Mr. Evan's will be here shortly. If you would like any refreshments or if you have any questions just head down the hallway and my desk is right there." My father only nods in response. She flashes her smile once more before heading down the hallway. Me and my father sit down on the waiting chairs. "Why are we here? Better question why am I here?" I turn and ask my father who's reading a muggle newspaper. He doesn't even look at me, "Because Draco. We are here on important business. It's about time you start learning what lies ahead for you." His tone still cold as ever. I can't even speak back, I know i'll be silenced. All I can do is huff. I stand up and just walk the opposite direction of him. I don't hate my father but sometimes I just can't stand how he seems to have my entire future in the palm of his hand.

Walking down the large hallway I can start to hear the elegant music that I can only recognize as music from The Nutcracker. When I was little my mother used to take me to a muggle theater around Christmas time. Although my father urged that we don't celebrate muggle holidays. She would always sneak us out and take me to see the Nutcracker. Not only did she love ballet but I loved to see the story play out through the graceful dancing. Of course as I grew older the tradition stopped but I never forgot.

I continue down the hallway and I can hear the music growing louder. I turn one more corner to see a double door way with a sign above the entrance that says 'MAIN THEATER' in gold lettering. The doors were slightly cracked open. I slightly peek into the theater to see a girl dancing on the stage doing the sugar plum fairies variation. I quietly slip into the room and sit down in the farthest back row to watch.

Y/N POV:

I had already rehearsed my routine twice but my director kept critiquing every little thing I did. I mean of course that's his job but I swear he was acting as if everything I did was wrong. I was in the in the middle of my third pirouette when my coach suddenly stood up and started walking to the back of the theater. I continued my pirouettes until I heard my coach speak. "I'm sorry sir but you aren't allowed in here while rehearsals are going on. I must ask you to leave." He said as he ushered someone who was sitting in the back of the theater out of the room. The man stood and I caught a glimpse of him. He was tall and had icy blonde hair. I paused my variation and stood to watch. The blonde man then spoke, "I'm sorry for interrupting sir. I had no clue." He said before then exiting the theater. My manager turned back around after closing the doors to the theater. "Alright Y/n from the top!" He said as he gave the tech people the signal to restart the music. I didn't complain. I rushed back to my starting mark and started my routine from the beginning.

DRACO POV:

As I sat in the back row I admired the ballerina on stage. Her movements were so elegant, mesmerizing even. With every turn and step she took her tutu bounced. Her arms stretched out with grace. I'm instantly snapped out of my daze when an official looking man comes up to me. "I'm sorry sir but you aren't allowed in here while rehearsals are going on. I must ask you to leave." He said as he turned to open the door for me. "I'm sorry for interrupting sir. I had no idea." I said as I stood from my seat. I walked to the door and took once last glance at the ballerina.

Y/N POV:

After the man had left the theater I ran through my routine nearly a half a dozen more times. Each time my coach giving me more pointers and critiques. As the music stopped and I finished my last variation my coach stood from his seat, "Y/n you need to keep your back straight and your knees pointed on that last part!" My coach shouted clearly tired of me not being able to perfect my solo. I just huffed and wiped my forehead with the back of my wrist. "Can I go get some water?" I said with my hands on my hips. My director sighed, "Yeah, be back in five." He said as he wrote something down on his clipboard. I hurriedly sped walked down the stairs that were on the far end of the stage and headed towards the theater entrance. I took a turn then walked down the long hallway. I stop at the end of the hallway when I see that man who got kicked out of the theater and another man who has long icy blonde hair, they're both sitting down on the waiting chairs outside Mr. Evan's office. I shake my head of any curiosity about the two and hurriedly walk past them to go to Adeline's desk. I notice the short haired boy look up at me as I walked but I continued. "Hey Adeline, could you please get me a water?" I asked to the woman. "Yeah just give me a second." She said with her usual smile, as she stood and went to another room. A couple seconds later she reappeared and had a water bottle in hand. The water bottle had a custom logo on it that said The Royal Opera House in gold letters on a dark red paper. "Thank you Ade, I'll most likely be back soon." I said as I turned around while simultaneously taking a drink of my water. As I turned I practically bump straight into a brick wall.

But it wasn't a wall it was that same blonde boy. And I had now just spilt water all over him. "Oh, i'm sorry! That was my bad!" I said frantically as I tried to wipe the water off of his black button down. "No, no, no, don't worry about it." He said laughing lightly as he grabbed hand to calm me, after a few seconds you let go. "I was just coming to compliment you. I saw you back in the theater and your dancing was truly beautiful." He said as his ice blue eyes practically pierced yours. "Oh...thank you." —I laughed softly—"But my director would say other wise." I said as I began to walk past him, I turned back around to look at him once more to find him with his eyebrows furrowed. "Well it's basically his job to tell me what I'm doing wrong, but it feels impossible to get my routine perfect." I sighed. "Well...regardless of what that oaf thinks I think you dance nothing short of perfection." He said slightly playfully. I let out a small laugh. "Well, I've got to get back to rehearsing. It was nice meeting you...?" I questioned having never learned his name. "Draco." "Draco?" "Draco." He confirmed. "Well it was nice meeting you Draco." I said nodding my head before turning to go back to the theater. "Wait what's your name?" He calls out to me as I was walking away. I turned around once more then gestured to a poster on the wall, then finally walked away.

As I gestured to the poster Draco immediately examined it. It was a picture of you in your sugar plum fairy costume and a title below it. It said, 'Y/n L/n as The Sugar Plum Fairy' Draco let out an airy laugh as he admired the poster when Lucius appeared behind him. "Draco I would like to not have to come look for you as if you were a lost puppy. Mr.Evan's is ready to see us now." He said coldly then turned Draco following behind.

=

You had went back to the theater thoughts of Draco lingering in the back of your head. Draco had went to sit in on the meeting between Lucius and Mr. Evan's. To Lucius that meeting was very important to the future of his shares in the theater, but to Draco it was merely an hour wasted listening to rubbish. You had finally wrapped up your rehearsals for the day and it was time for you to go get food and go home.

DRACO POV:

"Draco you can sit outside while me and Mr. Evan's wrap this up. Don't wander." Lucius spat. I didn't respond he simply just got up and left the room. I sat outside on the chairs until I heard a voice. "Yeah, I'll see you on Thursday?" She said as she walked out of the theater. There she was, Y/n. All of my attention was on her. She was no longer wearing the tutu and leotard. She was now wearing a baby pink off the shoulder knit sweater with grey flared leggings. She has a white knit scarf around her neck and she carried grey bag, what I assume was her ballet stuff. Her hair was in a low bun making her headphones she had in visible.

     When she turned to walk out she paused when she saw me. "Hey, you're still here?" She said softly as she walked up to me while taking out her headphone. "Yeah, i'm just waiting for my father and Mr. Evan's to get out of their meeting." "Well, I could wait with you?" She said as she rocked back and forth on her feet. "Yeah, sure. I don't mind." She sat down next to me setting her bag on her side. "So why are you here? To see Mr.Evans I mean." She said as she looked up at me. "Well I wouldn't say that i'm here to see him. My father is.  Something that has to do with his shares. I honestly don't know. The only thing i've gotten out of coming here was seeing you dance." I laughed a little, and so did she. "I didn't know I was that good." She smiled. "Whatever your director was yelling at you, he truly is wrong. I thought you danced perfect." I said avoiding eye contact with her. I could see her out of the corner of my eye just staring up at me. "Why thank you good sir. I'm glad you liked it." She giggled. "Have you ever seen The Nutcracker?" "Yeah, quite a few times actually." "Oh. Would you like to see it again maybe?" She asked this time not peering up at me, but now fiddling with the loose ends of her scarf. "When?" She stop and looked back up at me. "Uhmm,—she hummed— Opening night would be December 10th, I could get you tickets if you would like?" "Yeah, yeah, although I don't know when I'll see you again?" I asked. She laughing softly, "I guess whenever you want to see me again." She smiled.

DECEMBER TENTH

DRACO POV

Today was the day, the day I get to see her again. I don't know why I'm so...entranced? By her. Something about her just makes me fascinated. Ever since last week she's all I could think about. Of course in order to be able to go see the show I told my parents some bullshit excuse. My father would never let me go to London by myself, especially just so I could go see the ballet. Not only that a muggle girl.

I had made my way to the theatre early so I would be able to avoid all the people there for opening night. I stepped out of the taxi, it was cold the winter air crisp. I entered the building and walked up to the concierge. "One ticket for The Nutcracker, please." I said slightly rubbing my hands together trying to warm them. "I'm sorry sir, but I'm afraid we are all sold out for the night." He said with pity. "What? No, I have to see the show tonight." "Like I said, I'm sorry. But I can sell you a ticket for-" "Oh! Mr. Malfoy I wasn't expecting you so early!" The concierge was interrupted by no other than Adeline. "You were expecting me?" I turned to her. "Well yes? I expected that Ms. L/n made you aware of your visit?" She said with her usual smile. "Well yeah, but- you know what never mind. Why were you expecting me?" "Of course, because she was very adamant that you got the best seat in the house!" She said ushering me down the hall, then to an elevator.

The classical music played lightly in the elevator, the ride up two floors wasn't awkward, it was actually quite pleasant. This was an elevator ride I had been on countless times before, it was nostalgic in a way. The elevator dinged before the large metal doors opened. We were on The Donald Gordon Grand Tier. It was technically the third floor of the theater. She led me to row A which was in the very middle and front. "Ms. L/n was very insisting that you get this specific seat sir. She said it was the best seat in the house and you deserve nothing less!" I stood there for a moment and blinked at the seats in front of me. That feeling of nostalgia had now been explained. I was sitting in the exact same seat my mother would always sit in when we would come to the theater. "Mr. Malfoy, are you okay?" Adeline broke my trance. "Thank you Adeline, for everything." I thanked her as I sat down. "No problem! Feel free to come down to my desk if you need anything!" She smiled before walking away.

I sat there for maybe 30 minutes before hundreds of people started sitting in the theater. Of course by courtesy of Adeline I was able to avoid the crowd. After about another 30 minutes the lights in the theater had dimmed. That's when I heard the oh so familiar tune to the mystical music. There was something about the story of The Nutcracker that always fascinated me. Maybe it was the playful but yet elegant dances that were done. They were so complex but yet so smooth and graceful. Or perhaps it was the fact that I was able to watch a story come to life in front of my very eyes. As I watched the ballet I found myself the same way I was many years ago. Only blinking every few minutes to be sure I didn't miss any parts of the show. My mind fully clear, only focusing on the ballet dancers below. I was entranced by the story all over again.

Now, we were in act II. After Clara and the Prince have slayed the Mouse King, the snowflakes have led them to the Kingdom of Sweets. As the enchanting music transitioned to a more sweet sounding melody it hit me. She was going to be dancing soon. Clara and the Prince arrived to the gates of Kingdom of Sweets. The Sugar Plum Fairy reigns over the Kingdom of Sweets. I sat up in my chair. Then there she was, graceful as ever tip-toing across stage. Her costume was beautiful a light pink bodice and tutu with gold accents. Her hair was elegant and she wore a gold tiara. She was covered in glitter, but what shined the most was her eyes. She was so passionate in the way she danced. Her moves were liquid smooth enchanting the audience. She placed a tiara on Clara's head then commenced a day of festivities in honor of Clara saving the Prince from the mouse king. First came the Chocolate from Spain, then the Arabian Coffee, the Chinese tea, and lastly the sweet French Marzipan.

But then the flowers came, and they preformed a great waltz. The Sugar Plum Fairy came back with her cavalier and did a mesmerizing duet. Although they were doing a duet me and the whole audience could only look at one of them. Her. She danced with a great passion. Not that he didn't. There was just something about her that made you believe that she was born to be on that stage. Born to shine. Even with the light shining down on her, she was the light. Soon after she and her cavalier finished their dance Clara is guided back home. She tosses and turns in her sleep, she wakes up to find out it was a dream? A fantasy. Nothing more.

And Suddenly I was pulled into reality. The audience erupted in roars. Not one person in that theater wasn't clapping. Roses were being thrown onto stage by people sitting on the lower floors. The people around me whistling and cheering. I quickly stood up and headed down to Adeline's desk. "Excuse me, Adeline. I had a delivery made here, did it arrive yet?" I said as I leaned on her desk. "Yes, Mr. Malfoy. Just wait one second while I go grab it. She disappeared into a room before coming out with the custom bouquet I had delivered. Freshly picked Frutteto's. The baby pink roses were dusted with gold glitter, they were perfect. "She's gonna love them you know?" Adeline asked snapping me out of my trance. "Yeah...yeah, I know. Do you know when she'll be out?" "I'd say maybe 30 minutes? In the mean while you're more than welcome to wait here." She said as she sat back down at her desk and started flipping through a book.

I sat there for what seemed like forever. I inspected every flower to make sure they were nothing short of perfection. Just as I was picking off a petal that was too pink to fit in with the rest I saw her. She was already on her way out of the glass doors. I quickly rushed after her, "Y/n, wait!" I yelled after her as I caught up. She turned around her nose being a light shade of pink from the brisk winter air, the soft snowflakes landing in her hair. "Draco, you came? I didn't see you come in before the show?" "I got here early, don't worry I watched the whole show. You were...amazing. Oh, I got you these." I quickly handed her the bouquet, "They're beautiful." Her face lit up, "Perfect, they're perfect." She cradled them in one arm while the other fiddled with the petals. "Thank you." She said with that sweet smile of hers. "My pleasure, I knew you'd like them." I really didn't, I was actually terrified she wouldn't like them. "Hey...would you maybe..." Her eyes glistened in the street lights as she looked up from the flowers, "...would you maybe like to go to dinner with me?" I was a bit taken aback by the sudden question. I paused, "Yeah, I would love to. But it's my treat." "You don't have to i'm the one who invited you." She said lightly laughing. "Well, I would like to treat you after your amazing performance tonight. Where do you wanna eat?" "I know a great place! It's called Bancone, it's an italian place, is that okay?" "Whatever you want is fine with me." I smile. "Okay, uhh, hold on let me call a cab!" She turned and walked to the road. She hailed us a cab.

We both sat in the back of the cab, watching the snow glitter down from the sky. "How far is the restaurant?" I asked turning to her. When I looked at her she was simply smiling down at her flowers. "Oh, we should be there any minute! Actually we're here! Thank you!" She said as she scooted out of the cab. I paid the driver then got out. I was surprised to find she took my hand and led me inside.

We stepped inside and I was taken aback by the olive tree that was planted in the middle of the restaurant. The interior was classy but casual. "Hi! Welcome in! Table for two?" A hostess came up to us. "Yeah, uhm, could we be seated at a window table?" She asked as she dusted off the small pieces of snow she had in her hair. "Of course! Right this way!" The hostess led us to a table in the front of the restaurant. I pulled out her chair for her, "Why thank you good sir." She softly laughed. I sat down. "Can I get you started with any drinks, or would you like a minute?" "Could we get a bottle of the house red? And then I would just like a glass of water." She asked the hostess. "Great choice, and as for you sir?" "I would just like a glass of water, thank you." She handed us our menus then walked away. "What do you think you're gonna get?" I looked up from my menu. "For sure the bucatini, i've been craving it all day." I laugh lightly, "I don't know what I want" I said as I studied the menu, "What do you think?" I looked up at her to find her already looking at me. "I personally think you'll like the duck ragú, I had it last time I came and it was heavenly." She laughed. "Okay I guess it's settled then, wait what about dessert?" "Oo! They have these cannolis! They're covered in hazelnuts you have to try them." Just then a waitress came to the table, "Here is your house red, and waters." She said as she set down our water and presented the bottle.

She opened the bottle with a pop, then filled our glasses. "Thank you" we both said nearly in unison. "Are you ready to order your entrees, or would you like another minute?" "We're ready. I'll have the bucatini and as for dessert we'll do two orders of the hazelnut cannolis." She said as she handed the waitress her menu. "Sure thing! And as for you sir?" She turned to me, "I'll have the duck ragú, that'll be all, thank you." I handed her my menu. "Okay, i'll be back with your food shortly." She smiled then walked away to another table. "You know what I realized?" Y/n said as she twirled the wine in her glass. "What?" "I barely know anything about you, but yet here I am at dinner with you." She tilted her head slightly. "Well, I don't know anything about you either." I laughed, "What do you wanna know?" "Anything! But skip the basic things, I just really wanna know you" She took a sip of her wine. What was I supposed to tell her? That i'm a wizard and that I went to a school to learn sorcery? "I honestly don't know where to start? Just ask me anything, anything." "Mmm, what's your favorite childhood memory?" She said as she took off her scarf.

I took a breath "I would have to say...probably going to see The Nutcracker with my mother." I laughed, she looked up at me curiously. "Ironic isn't it." "Very." "See my father isn't big on...fun. Or anything really. So every year my mother would sneak us out of the house and we would go see the show. As I got older the whole tradition kind of just...stopped. But you know what's crazy?" "Hm?" "The seat that you picked out for me, was the exact same seat my mum would sit in when we would go." She looked at me like I was crazy. "She always said 'it was the best seat in the house' the whole thing felt like a dream." "That's...just...wow. That's a big coincidence huh?" "I know huh, I was so confused. But what about you? What's your favorite memory?" "My grandmother she was absolutely amazing when it came to playing piano. As a little girl she would play the Swan Lake piano arrangement while I danced. We would do this for hours and hours till my mother told us to take a break. I've always loved ballet. What I would give to re-live those memories." She looked out the window and played with the hem of her sleeves as she spoke. "That's...beautiful. So you've been dancing since you were young?" "Yeah, kinda like you my mother took me to see the ballet when I was little. But instead we saw Sleeping Beauty. I was absolutely fascinated by it. For weeks I begged my mother to put me in classes, I guess she just got annoyed of my constant begging and just gave in." She laughed softly. "Well it definitely paid off." I smiled.

We got to know each other all night long. Even though we had already finished our food long ago, we sat there and just talked. About everything. She was just so captivating. Every detail about her was intriguing. Each one of her stories just led me to wanting to know more about her. The way her eyes sparkled a little when she would talk about something she was passionate about. All of her was just perfect. I told her a lot about myself. Maybe more than I should've. Everything about me surrounded the one thing I couldn't tell her. Most of the stories I told her had gaps but I don't think she caught on. I felt almost...bad? For not being able to tell her what could possibly be the biggest detail about me. But seriously how do you just tell someone that. 'Oh yeah, by the way i'm a wizard. And there's millions of other wizards around the world.' And plus even if I wanted to tell her I couldn't. And it was killing me.

We stayed at the restaurant until the waitress told us they were closing soon. "I guess we should get going huh?" She asked as she lightly laughed. "Yeah, I guess so." I slightly frowned. I paid the bill, then we left. We stood on the side walk as the snow continued to fall from the dark sky. Street lamps lit the road, illuminating it with golden rays. She wrapped her scarf around her neck and carried her flowers with both hands. "Could I have your number by the way?" She asked. "Oh, yeah. Here just put your number in and i'll text you later." I handed her my cell. I got a muggle cell phone, specifically for this reason. My father would never approve of me having a device like that. But for her it was worth whatever trouble it could cause. In all reality the reason I asked her to put her number in my cell was because I had no clue how. "Okay, there." She smiled as she handed me back my phone. I looked down, Y/n xx , is what she put as her contact. "I should get going now, I have to be back at the theater early tomorrow." She said as she fiddled with her flowers. I took a breath, "Okay, tonight was really great. When can I see you again?" "Like I said, whenever you want." She smiled, I laughed. She turned out to the road and hailed a cab. "Goodnight!" She yelled out to me before turning back to the cab, she paused, then turned around back to me and ran back to me. She gave me a kiss on my cheek and then a small hug, "Goodnight." "Goodnight." I said a bit surprised. She ran back to the cab and got in. I watched the car disappear down the road, out of sight.

===

Mwah I hope you liked! If you did make sure to reblog and leave a note! <3

[the-broken-pen]

Hiii, I love your writing! It's so great that you're back! Could you write something like two actors are playing hero/villain in a movie or theater, but both of them sometimes just gets too in character/or just gets too stuck in character, so for like moments they actually forget that they are just acting?

“You didn’t think I’d let you die by anyone else’s hand but mine, did you?” The villain cocked their head to the side, grinning.

Distantly, the hero registered the whispering of stage commands, but tuned it out.

“You can’t just kill anyone who threatens me,” they argued back. They watched as the villain’s grin sharpened.

“Watch me,” the villain whispered, stepping closer. Fake blood was drying on the side of the hero’s head, and it itched more than usual. Must be a new brand from costuming.

“I could arrest you,” they offered, but they let the hesitation show on their face. Visible enough for the camera to catch their unwillingness, no matter how fake it was. Good enough nobody could tell the difference between real and not.

“You won’t.”

The hero tipped one head to the side

“And why’s that?”

The hero shifted, leaning in towards the villain.

“Because you’re mine,” the villain whispered, tone playful as their eyes seared into the hero’s.

The hero’s mouth went dry. It wasn’t on purpose.

Something kindled in their chest.

“Oh yeah?”

The villain shrugged one shoulder in perfect time to the script, and the hero pulled the next line to the tip of their tongue—

“Prove it.”

That was not the next line.

That wasn’t a line at all.

The villain blinked just once, the only sign of surprise they would allow, before their grin widened. Their shoulders loosened into something feral, something that delighted in this change.

Something that belonged off-stage.

“I’m covered in the blood of the people who hurt you,” the villain’s voice was smooth sliding down the hero’s spine. They shivered. “What more proof do you want, love.”

They blushed furiously at the nickname, even underneath the stage makeup, and at the pleased look on the villain’s face, it was visible.

What was the line what was the line what—

Their hands fisted into the front of the villain’s costume, dragging them closer. The villain let them, hand settling on the hero’s waist in a movement far too smooth.

“I don’t know,” the hero murmured, and they were just as surprised as the villain when their lips hovered just over the other’s ear. “Why don’t you stop trying to kill me, for starters.”

The villain tugged them closer, and the hero’s eyes went to their lips.

The villain looked at the hero like they wanted to devour them.

Fuck, what had been the line—

“Oh, but you’re so pretty covered in blood, Hero,” the villain crooned, and the hero opened their mouth to say something, their tongue a separate entity from their brain at this point—

“Hold!” Someone off-stage called, and they both froze. A second later, they were halfway across the stage from one another. Slipping out of being the hero and back into being themself felt like hitting a brick wall.

If the way the villain shuddered was any indication, they had forgotten they were playing a character too.

The hero turned away to face the tech crew, hand settling over their face to hide their blush.

The villain’s gaze was molten and heavy on their shoulders, even from as far away as they were.

“I don’t think that’s in the blocking,” the stage manager frowned, flipping through the script.

None of that was the blocking. No matter how much the stage manager searched those pages they would never find those lines.

Fuck.

“Improv,” the hero choked out, flushing. “It was, uh. A creative choice—“

From behind one of the curtains, they heard a crew member snort, muttering something about teenage actors and horniness—

The villain was smirking, a wicked thing.

“Right,” the stage manager said slowly, brow furrowed from where they sat. They murmured something into their headset, eyes shifting up between the villain and the hero, before they slid a screen in front of themself.

Just barely, the hero could make out the shape of the scene they had just filmed.

The screen went black, the room silent for a moment, before the stage manager let out a long suffering sigh.

“We’re changing the blocking.”

“What?” The hero yelped.

The villain settled their hands into their pockets, unbothered and grinning.

“We’re keeping the scene,” the stage manager nodded towards their tablet, and the hero almost passed out on the spot. They watched the stage manager eye the pleased and possessive look on the villain’s face. “For now, though, let’s call it a wrap for the day.”

Shuffling began, lights flickering off, and the hero escaped to their own dressing room, panting slightly.

Dear god, they were so fucked. They had forgotten they were acting, again—

“Improv, hm?” The villain grinned, lock sliding into place. The hero hadn’t even heard them come in.

The hero groaned. “I don’t know what happened—“

“Yeah,” the villain nodded, and they were closer than they had been a moment ago.

The hero swallowed.

“I’m sorry.”

The villain raised an eyebrow. “For what?”

The hero waved one hand between them. “For, you know—“

The villain was still smiling.

It was then they remembered who had fought so hard in the writers’ room for the villain and the hero to end up together.

‘Enemies to lovers,’ the villain had said, eyes dark. ‘The fans will love it. There’s been sub plot for the last two seasons.’

The directors had pushed back, but now—

Oh. The villain wasn’t mad.

They were pleased.

The hero choked.

“You,” the hero tried.

“Me,” the villain agreed, and then they were kissing, all-consuming and desperate.

They made a noise in the back of their throat, the villain twining their hand into the hero’s hair.

“You forgot you were acting,” the villain murmured against their lips, and kissed them again before the hero could defend themself. “That I’m not really your villain and you aren’t my hero.”

The villain settled the hero onto the counter, coming to stand between their legs, one hand on their hip.

“Fuck,” they gasped, and they could feel the villain’s grin against their skin.

“Mhm.”

Somehow, the hero’s arms had ended up looped over the villain’s shoulders.

“Maybe stop killing people, and I’ll consider it,” they said between breaths.

“What?” The villain pulled back slightly.

“The line I forgot,” the hero said. They could drown in the villain’s eyes, they were sure of it. “Maybe stop killing people—“

“Don’t care,” the villain bit out, and then their mouth was on the hero’s again and nothing else mattered.

Maybe they weren’t truly hero and villain—but god were they good at pretending.

Three months later, the internet couldn’t decide what was better—that finally, after years, the hero and villain had ended up together on screen; or that off stage, their actors were desperately, hopelessly in love too.

[evilminji]

The House of Mysteries is Arguably Sentient Right?

(O.O ) I sit here... contemplating the... WEIRD Ghosts Danny might come across. The true Haunted Houses. Planets. Theaters. Boxes bigger on the inside. Living ships and A.I.s, Etc.

All things can die. If the house of mysteries is someday utterly destroyed? Is that not death? If the Planet and Green Lantern Mogo is broken to pieces like non-sentient Krypton was, has he not perished?

Do they not stand equal chance of become Ghosts?

Are.... Are Haunts even created? Or are they a symbiotic ghost relationship? The dual fulfilling of Obsession. A house, properly haunted and taking care of someone. And a Ghost, watching TV or organizing stamps or living out the fantasy of their Perfect Life.

All behind purple doors.

Houses are demolished all the time. Or lost to war or disaster. An old enough house? Enough people living and dying in it? Could arguably start to accumulate ectoplasm. Become, not sentient, but a touch more. And in dying? Like any animal, leave behind that Idea of who they were. That ALMOST and Instinct.

Certain places though? That are alive? That have seen far too much death? They seem to carry over. Castles and long burned libraries, coliseums, and frozen hills. The places life was lost, over and over or all at once.

Floating islands from long dead planets.

I bet we could find Kryptonian flora on some of them. If we looked in the right area. It must be a strange mix. Down right bizarre. Facing just about anything and wondering if it's sentient.

With Ectoplasm? It could be.

But at the same time? Imagine the RELIEF? Of, after the stress and fear of dying, waking up CHANGED, somewhere new and alone... searching desperately for something, anything, to ground your self? The relief you'd feel... when a door seems to drift right into out of nowhere. Just? Gentle bonk.

And yeah, it's purple. Looks like every generic door that's ever been. But? It has this VIBE. Like you're staring at the door to your first shit apartment, but it's YOURS and YOU paid for it and you're... you're home now. You open it.

And it's like some crammed every inspo board you ever had and all the parts of every room you ever loved, together. Familiar, new, and best of all? NOT a vast swirling green void. You drift inside.

If you're like so many ghosts? Probably never leave. Why would you? It's spooky and loud and crazy out there. Everyone's nuts. In HERE it's nice. No fights, art and food the way you like it, time feels muted and far away...

You only really snap OUT of your happy Vibe Sesh with your House Haunt when someone intrudes.

There us probably a whole flip side of the Zone that we never really see. Haunt politics. Competition for the really GOOD Ghosts. Haunts that don't want a ghost because they are waiting for somebody who may or may not come.

Other fuckin MOGO'S. Seriously. Sentient planet. That may be rare, may even be the sole example IN THEIR UNIVERSE, but the Zone is Multiversal. Literally Infinite.

Which means there ARE at least a handful or more of SENTIENT PLANET GHOSTS. How do you?? Cope? "Oh this is my buddy, the PLANET EARTH." But possibly BIGGER.

Fuck that's a lot of Ectoplasm. Thank Zone their Obsession's are usually "Be Prosperous Planet" and "orbit and protect this Star, which is sentient and my frient".

Oh? They forgot to mention the SENTIENT FUCKING STAR? As in giant ball of fire and death? Whoops! :T

Don't worry! THEIR Obsession is their planets! It's a full circle thing. Just leave that little system alone and they won't annihilate you and everything you've ever loved! Easy.

Lookin a little pale there, your Majesty. You need to lay down?

(And to think, all this... because Pariah's Castle got into a literal land war with other castles over who gets the New King.)

(Accusations of being a Greedy Bitch were thrown. Suggestions to Get Good and stop being A Loser Crybaby were offered. Somehow, there were cannons? Danny is still unclear but has been told under NO circumstances is he to step foot in ANY ghost building until mediators can be brought in. It could be seen as declaring a preference.)

@hypewinter @hdgnj @ailithnight @nerdpoe

[slasherfckr]

Hello! I just wanted to say I love everything that you have written, but my favorite, and the one I'm hoping to get a part two for, is the Thomas Hewitt x reader where the rest of the Hewitt family dies, and the reader takes Thomas in. It's really really good! I love the way that you have written it! Maybe for part two it can be the reader taking Thomas clothing shopping for the first time? Or to see a movie in theaters? They seem like things that he wouldn't have done for a long time, if ever.

Well now that you mention it, I have part 2 right here actually ☺️😅

-Part 1 can be found here

(Tag list: @goodiesinthecloset21 )

Thomas Hewitt x afab!Reader - Found Family (pt 2 of the Modern Living)

Just gonna call it Found Family from now on

------------------------------------------

You found a man in the middle of a horrible car accident in the middle of nowhere in Texas...and against your better judgement, you took him home and patched him up as best you could. You fed him dinner and found an outfit that just barely fit him. You knew taking in a stranger was insanely stupid and dangerous but you couldn't help but feel sorry for him...

------------------------------------------

After a few nights, you figured you could trust the man. At least a little bit. If he was going to rob you or harm you in anyway, you figured he would have done it already. He was so much bigger than you, he could have snapped you in half like a twig if he felt like it. You couldn't trust him completely, though, so you stayed out from the bakery until you felt you could trust him alone in your apartment by himself.

This particular morning, you were woken up earlier than usual by the sound of your TV. After quickly getting something decent on, you went out to your living room and found Thomas on the couch watching the morning news. Something about numerous murders in the area or something. Basically the same old stuff that was usually on the Dallas News. Though, it was odd to be reporting murders this early in the day. They usually did that in the evenings....

Shrugging off the odd feeling, you went and started making some french toast for the both of you. Today you were taking Thomas out clothes shopping before you put him to work in your shop. You weren't sure how Thomas was going to feel, though. When you first met him and took him back to your place, he seemed extremely uneasy once you two hit the big city. It was like it was the first time he'd been in such a big place before.

It wasn't long before breakfast was done, and so you called Thomas to come and eat. Except he didn't move an inch from the couch. You called his name again and still no movement from the man. You carefully walked over to him and saw his eyes fixed on the TV, his fists clenched so tightly you could see slight amounts of blood trickling out from where his nails dug into his palms.

"Oh my God, Thomas! Hold on lemme help..." You went to the kitchen and grabbed a clean rag and ran it under some cold water. Coming back, you went to open up his hands but you must have startled the man because he flinched and pulled his arm away from you. He looked down at you and that's when you noticed he didn't have his mask on. You also immediately noticed the anger and hatred that filled his eyes. You had no idea what you could have done to piss him off

That's when you remembered the TV. The news moved onto the next topic by this point but you remember they said there had been a few murders.

"Those deaths...that wasn't anyone you knew...was it?" He wouldn't look at you at this point and had already opened up his fists so you could clean up the little blood that was on his hands. He had never spoken a single word to you, only signed stuff when he needed to say something, but you swore you could have heard a soft "yes" come from his mouth.

You felt your stomach drop. Was that why he was alone that night? His family or whoever had died? You tried your hardest to focus on cleaning up his hands but it was almost impossible. So many thoughts were running through your head. You somehow managed to finish and got up to go toss the rag into your laundry hamper.

You came back and immediately sat next to Thomas. You didn't know him very well but you could tell he was going through something. If that was his family on the news, he didn't deserve to grieve alone like this. You scooted next to him very carefully and gently put one of your hands on top of his. He looked over at you.

"You know, I was going to take you out to do some clothes shopping since you don't have anything. But I can see you're going through something. I don't know who that was on the news but you obviously knew them. I know what its like to lose someone. I...I lost my parents when I was 8. If you...need anything just let me know okay? Would you like a hug at all?"

Thomas didn't move for a minute before his huge arms suddenly embraced you. You thought you were either going to pass out or your head was going to pop off due to how tight he was squeezing you. You tried your best to bring your arms up to hug him back but it was futile. They were stuck to your sides. You couldn't even move them to tap out. Though, to say you didn't enjoy this would be a lie. Your head was right on his chest and you could hear his heart beating. If you weren't struggling to breathe, you actually wouldn't mind being like this for a good while

Thomas eventually caught on to your squirming and let go. You took a few much needed breaths as he did. You looked up at him and saw his eyes were a bit wider than usual. Guess he was afraid he squashed you a little too much? You laughed.

"Don't worry. I'm fine. Hmm...since clothes shopping has to wait til another day, would you like to just have a lazy day and watch some movies? I can go down to the bakery and snag some sweet treats for us to share."

His eyes lit up at the mention of stealing getting some treats from the bakery. You smiled as you got up and went over to the big cabinet by the TV. You opened it and looked to Thomas.

"Okay so its settled then. A movie night. Come pick out a few movies for us to watch. I'll go down and get some sweets for us and then order some pizza too when I come back. Alright?"

Thomas nodded as you went off to go score some cupcakes or something from the bakery. When you came back, you saw Thomas had picked out at least 5 movies. Though you were a little disappointed to see he had put his mask back on. That reminded you, though, that you needed to get that thing washed.

You saw that they were a wide range of movies, ranging from horror classics like The Thing to family friendly classics like Wizard of Oz. You absolutely loved a good John Carpenter movie so of course you picked that one up first to put in. It wasn't until you got to the intro of the movie that you realized you didn't know how well Thomas handled horror and gore. He could easily be given numerous weeks worth of nightmares from the next movie on the list, "A Nightmare on Elm Street"

You paused the movie.

"Sorry, sorry! I completely forgot to ask...do you handle horror movies well? You picked out a couple that kind of get pretty gorey. Like, I know you picked them out and that should be an indicator that you know but I still got to ask. I had a friend say they handle really graphic movies well then freak out during Hellraiser. I just don't want to get you freaked out tonight or anything, ya know?"

Thomas gave a nod and signed he was fine with horror. You sighed with relief and resumed the movie. The rest of the night went great. Thomas was right. He had no problem with the horror movies. In fact, it seemed like he was amazed with not just the horror movies but ALL the movies he picked. It was like....

"Hey Thomas? Have you ever seen a movie before? Like. A movie movie? Not a cartoon on TV that you usually watch in the mornings. Was this your first time watching a movie?"

You were a little shocked when he signed back that it was his first time. He's never seen a movie before???

"If its your first time seeing a movie then I wonder what else you've never gotten to do. We'll check later. As for now, I gotta get some sleep because I have to be up early to get back to the bakery....I've missed too many days already. Goodnight Thomas."

You were about to walk away when Thomas all of a sudden grabbed your hand and pulled you down onto him, causing you to fall onto his lap. He quickly braced you in another bear hug. You could actually move and breathe this time so you gave him the biggest hug you could give back.

"What's this for?" You laughed a little

Thomas didn't say or sign anything. He just kept hugging you. After a minute, he let you go before signing a simple Thank You.

You smiled and nodded to him before going to your room. You knew you shouldn't be getting so comfortable with a man you met just two weeks ago but you couldn't help it. He was sweet and after what happened today, you couldn't help but feel a bit sorry for him. The man had just lost his family when you met him. You couldn't just let him go out on his own. You were all he had as far as you knew. Tonight you were gonna get some sleep, tomorrow you could work on digging into his background a bit more.

[loonyoz]

Part of what I love about Wyll is how he feels like a character you have to keep pulling back the layers on. Like one of those 3d puzzles you think you’ve got figured out and then you realize you’re right back where you started. Which I guess is just the long way of saying he's a well made character. I’m gonna do a play by play of my first interactions with him to illustrate my point:

When you first meet him you’re like omfg who is this boy with the dramatic theater kid entrance lmao. Wyll, you are so dorky (affectionate).

You next see him helping tiefling kids learn to fight. Not in a harsh militaristic way, more in a gentle and even playful way (eg. When you play as Wyll you can tell them dramatic stories about how Wyll slayed a dragon.) You're like oh yeah this guy has the whole hero thing going on. Very disney prince over here.

Then you talk to him and he talks about an evil devil that must be killed with such adamance and determination. You're like oh wow he can get pretty intense. He's so determined about this, he's willing to put aside the pressing threat of ceremorphosis. This kind of unmoving moral stance, this very good and serious abt it thing, it gives off paladin vibes imo

Ok so thats two sides of him, dramatic storybook hero and strong willed paladin.

Then you get to the confrontation with Karlach, and pretty quickly realize this flaming hot cheeto (idk why I called her that ok, but im leaving it in) of a tiefling shouldn't be killed. Wyll takes some convincing and you're like Wyll you dumbass you're seeing what Im seeing right? The tadpole is showing us she's innocent, why dont you believe that?

Then its only till later you realize he had so many good reasons to hesitate:

He has been doing this job for 7 years now, to break off from the script he's used to, is a risky thing. If he cant trust his 7 years of experience he's left floundering. If he cant trust that he's been only killing evil, then he's broken his moral code too. (If I were in his shoes id for sure be having an existential crisis)

He's learned the hard way to distrust devils, what if Karlach is tricking everyone into thinking she's innocent?

Or maybe he's scared of what it will mean if he doesn't kill her, he'll be breaking his pact, and the consequences for that will most definitely be harsh. I don't think that's selfish or cruel of him to consider killing her out of fear of what will happen if he doesn't. I think Wyll would be unfair to himself for those thoughts tho. Like the whole airplane oxygen mask analogy is a good way to talk about it. Wyll would go to every passenger on the plane and make sure their masks are on, then collapse from oxygen deprivation because he never put his own on. Perhaps an extreme and unrealistic scenario, but illustrative of his admirable but harmful self sacrifice.

In summary, his hesitation and need to be convinced shows a lovely amalgamation of his character, his life experience, and his values, and how it results in a moment of conflict and indecision.

But it takes very little to convince him not to kill karlach. You tell him twice that Karlach is no threat/innocent, and he stops panicking, and pulls himself together with the kind of emotional control/repression that makes you go "uh oh babes has unresolved trauma and needs therapy"

His ability to listen to others when people tell him he's wrong shows that he has a flexibility and emotional maturity that is unlike the stereotypical paladin. Once he realizes Karlach is innocent, the rules he follows no longer matter to him.

He resigns himself to his fate because for him there is no other way for it to be. This shows that no matter how theatrical his heroics appear, it is not merely a guise. You can trust that he truly cares for people because he is willing to sacrifice himself for the sake of a stranger.

Then Mizora shows up and his response is to argue against her, to say, "you told me no innocents". Which shows once again where his priorities lie, now that injustice has been pointed out to him he will use every ounce of his will to fight it. It also shows that human weakness again too. His fallibility (I mean who can blame him devils are great manipulators) and his worried questioning of the rules that he has followed for so long.

And then when you put all the drama aside, and listen to his lighthearted dialogue you remember/realize he’s also very goofy and the kind of chill guy you’d want to invite to every friend hangout.

asfgjkl; anyway I have way too many thoughts and feelings abt this guy. If you read all this damn. But lmk what you guys think about my reflections!

Also shoutout to all of the fic writers and random fan posts ive read that have inspired some of these thoughts

[softichill]

The Sounds of Nightmares unofficial transcript

Chapter 3 - The Theater of the Mind

(Once again made with @queen0fm0nsterz!!!)

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

-------------

[Click]

[Otto sighs, shifting]

OTTO: Noone vanished last night. 

[Another sigh]

OTTO: As she slept, I was monitoring her ultradian sleep cycle. There was no REM/NREM oscillation; instead, involuntary spasms grew progressively worse. [shift] As I was about to wake Noone, her… body… evanesced. For a split instant- then returned, calm as can be. 

OTTO: [deep breath, loud exhale] Lacking sleep, I can’t be sure I wasn’t hallucinating. Yet the image of her sheets deflating… is imprinted upon my mind. [Sigh] After yesterday’s session, no less, when she claimed to hear this:

[Click, tape plays]

Recording of NOONE: “The faraway drifts near. Tread long, then, sink deep. Two flows from one, and here, is whole again.”

[Click, tape stops]

OTTO: A coincidence? [light clinking of ceramic/glass] Or, synchronicity? …(Scoff) Is that that bloody moth again?! 

[Loud smack, Otto sits back down] 

OTTO: Riddle piles upon riddle, and answers continue to elude. [Tape rewinding] I’ll sift through every word if I must. 

[Intro plays]

[Click]

[Loud clicking and clacking, electric humming, Otto screwing something in]

OTTO: [Humming drops, returns] It’s clear. Noone’s symptoms go beyond parasomnias. [Continuing to build] Her retellings are too detailed, vocabulary too advanced, as if derived from the oneiric itself. 

[Humming raises in pitch, clicking] 

OTTO: However, what I find impossible to believe is that Noone’s seen who you saw, Cici. [Chair creaks, clattering] If two people, without any contact, shared the exact same observation, is it proof of transpersonal dreaming?

[Otto’s building continues]

OTTO: But such implies concurrence! And these dreams are years apart! Then… no. [buzzing picks up] I cannot be taken to metaphysical backwaters. Sounding like my old professor. [building] I’ve remained balanced over the years by clinging to the notion that my recollection of what happened years ago was wrong. [click, humming gets loud again] But now, those memories are coming home to roost. 

[Clicks, electronic humming, building stops]

OTTO: [Shift] Before I began at the CPI I promised to finish this apparatus. I let it fall away, convinced that attempting it was fool’s work. Now struggling to put myself in her shoes, well. Fool me twice. 

[Humming gets louder, buzzes out completely as it shocks Otto and he lets out an “Oh!”]

[A small pained noise from Otto before he starts to put the apparatus away]

[Door opens]

OTTO: (Gasp) Noone! [Scoff, he walks away from the recorder] You’re meant to wait outside. 

NOONE: (Far away) What are you working on?-

[Audio cuts]

[Click, blank noise]

[Audio starts again]

OTTO: We’ve come to know each other better over the past weeks, haven’t we?

NOONE: Because we’re friends! That’s why. And, friends tell each other things. 

OTTO: Friends. That’s right. One of the absolutes I’ve come to realize is that, the more time you spend with someone, the harder it becomes to hide who you really are. The only exception to this rule is with the company of oneself- we willfully hide what we’d rather not face. Like, the Candleman you mentioned seeing, under hypnosis. 

NOONE: I don’t like that. 

OTTO: What?

NOONE: Hiding things from myself. 

OTTO: Nobody likes it. That’s why it’s important to reveal your inner face. “Depth analysis”, we call it. And so, I’d like you to think of this session as a dialogue with your unconscious mind- you are asking the questions, not me. 

NOONE: …Asking myself questions?

OTTO: I’ll help! But, as you go, I’d like you to try. So! This… Candleman. Did you see him again?

NOONE: I-I did. 

OTTO: And what was this meeting like?

NOONE: …He was much clearer. Not just him, everything about it. My nightmare. 

OTTO: Elaborate, please. Was it worse? More vivid?

NOONE: What’s it like- Uhm… as if I’m watching a film, that I’m also the star of. And when I woke… it was here, in the Coppy, that felt more like the dream. 

OTTO: Hm, more palpable. The Candleman-

NOONE: I can’t talk about him without the rest. …If this is an interview with myself, might I begin where I want?

OTTO: Of course! Let your imagination run. But don’t be afraid to interact with the dream. This is an important step in our process- the dialogue. Bring together the divided parts of yourself. 

NOONE: …The mirror. 

OTTO: Pardon?

NOONE: The one off your shelf. If I’m meant to speak to myself, well…

OTTO: [Pause] …Patients aren’t meant to have mirrors, but, here you are, my bright girl. 

[Otto gives her the mirror]

OTTO: Begin as you please. 

[Pause]

NOONE, Narrating: …In the dark… a hand let go of mine. 

[Slip noise, Dream!Noone gasps. Dream ambience begins.] 

NOONE: Opening my eyes, I lay on hot concrete, staring up at a sky with- no sun. And… before me was, endless grey, broken by- yellow lines of paint, all the way to the horizon!

NOONE: Standing, in that carpark, I heard a silence. So silent, my own heartbeat was a marching drum in comparison. …It was followed by… a loneliness, so lonely, I could hardly bear it. I had to turn away. 

[Dream!Noone walking on gravel]

NOONE: Behind me, I was glad to see a building! A shopping mall, so large I- I felt half my normal size. Its doors opened, [sliding gravel] and I ran to them. 

[running footsteps, transition from gravel to tile. Doors close behind Dream!Noone.]

NOONE: Inside the promenade, [lights click on] the lights flicked on, one by one, greeting me as the PA speakers came alive with music. 

[Tinny, slightly off-sounding mall music]

NOONE: It had been ages since I’d visited a shopping center. I didn’t know where to start!

OTTO: You saw no need to find an exit right away?

NOONE: I felt like I was in good hands. But many shops were closed, though. There were no doors, and… no displays in the windows. Or, there must have been a private entrance, because- I could see shadows beyond the glass. 

NOONE: …A-after passing by several shops this way, I grew disappointed, but that’s when… a cowboy’s voice came over the speaker. 

COWBOY, slightly overlapped with Noone: “Sale at Jujube’s Toys! Dolls, games, puzzles, and more! Ground floor by the fountain!”

NOONE: I could see that fountain in front of me! And on the other side, was… a bright green storefront, with bubbles floating out the entrance. 

[Dream!Noone walking over, doors hiss as they open. Different tinny music.]

NOONE: Shelves and- shelves of wonders lined the shop! The toys on the first shelf were very old, but… deeper shelves held the same toys I had back home, and deeper ones held exactly those I’d wish for, even Little Lotty Potty! But… these Lotties had black eyes, not blue. And their skin was… yellow, like autumn leaves. 

NOONE: The shop owner wasn’t present, so… I grabbed one and began playing on the carpet. 

[Dream!Noone humming Six’s Theme. Doll makes automated noises.]

NOONE: But, it didn’t take long for me to grow… bored. That was the first time I… I felt too old for dolls. 

OTTO: (distant-sounding) Maturity is natural as you approach adolescence. The brain loses interest in things once held dear. 

NOONE: The idea of growing up made me sad. And as if reacting… Lotty’s dress became wet. The doll was doing as its name said, but… [doll chattering] the liquid was- dark and thick. I put her down to find something else. But the choices were almost too many! Towering shelves extending deep in- the gloom of the impossibly long shop!

NOONE: I settled on the games section, but, most were meant for two. Suddenly, a staticky whisper said,

Voice, overlapping with NOONE: “I’ll play with you.”

NOONE: I-I thought it was the shopkeeper, but… nobody was around. My eyes fell upon a jewelry-making kit, with a red necklace on the cover. I took the box back to where I left Lotty, only… she was gone. The shelf above, where the other dolls had been, was completely empty too. I wanted to make the jewelry, I really did, but… I felt weird, so… I put it down. Then, the PA crackled, a woman’s voice this time:

Voice, ov. NOONE: “Jujube’s Toys is now closing.”

NOONE: [Lights clicking off] The lights shut off, bubbles stopped… and, the last thing I saw before exiting… [toy train noises] was the train set crashing to a stop. [quiet fake bell ringing, toy engine stops] 

[Dream!Noone walking out of the store]

NOONE: The promenade was empty, still. Each step [steps become echoey] echoed across the walls and floors, which were- pearl white, and had patterns like… veins. 

[steps and music continues]

NOONE: I came to three sets of stairs, side-by-side, leading to the next floor. I chose one, and, reaching to the top, I saw another open shop. Mademoiselle’s… (saying it wrong) bijottery. 

OTTO: (still distant) Bijouterie. But, regardless- you could read this?

NOONE: Yes. The letters were quite big. 

OTTO: …Have you been able to read in your dreams before?

NOONE: I’m not sure. That’s not a question I would ask myself, though, Otto. 

OTTO: Apologies. 

NOONE, Narrating: The glass case in the center of the room… pulled me in. Full of… gold, and silver necklaces. Hanging in the middle, was… an enchanting red pendant. And before you ask, yes, it was just like on the box at the toy store. T-The PA came on again,

Voice, ov. with NOONE: “A free gift to all little girls 10 and under!”

NOONE: Without asking, I put the necklace on, glowing, like a ruby teardrop. With my gift, I set to leave, but… someone must’ve left the speaker on because… I heard arguing. 

NOONE: (overlapping) “Don’t overdo it!” Said a first voice, followed by a second, (overlapping) “One more prize can’t hurt!”

[something being set down, wheels across tile, whoosh]

NOONE: From the back room, a rack of dresses rolled out. All, exactly my size.

[Dream!Noone looking through the dresses]

NOONE: It’d been ages since I’d been allowed to pick out my own dress. The telly people chose them for me. These ones were very pretty, with lace and, and bows and stitching but, one… it… it was the plaid dress I wore the day I arrived at the Coppy. How could my dress be here? [lowering pitch of voice, asking questions to herself] Your real life doesn’t have to mix into your dreams Noone, why now? 

OTTO, interrupting narration: (astonished) Pardon?

NOONE: (giggling) I’m asking myself questions. Well, the only explanation is that they could see inside my head.

OTTO: I’m not sure that’s logical.

NOONE: Let me finish! Please. You’ll see.

NOONE, narrating: Back out on the promenade, the shop gates began to slam shut. [Gates slamming] I was worried the mall was closing, but on the floor above, a set of spinning bright lights came on [Lights turn on]. The music stopped and, the PA crackled with a sing-songy voice, 

Voice, ov. with NOONE: [music] “Showtime’s patrons! Our daily motion picture will begin shortly. Hot popcorn’s popping and the seats await in the playhouse!” 

NOONE: [Lights shutting off] The rest of the mall went dark, making the lights more enticing to follow. 

[Dream!Noone walks across the mall]

NOONE: The lobby was- red from floor to ceiling. Buckets of popcorn overflowed on the concession stand. I grabbed one, and hurried to push open the huge golden doors leading into the theater.  

[Running steps, doors creak. Slightly off organ music plays.] 

NOONE: The velvet seats went for rows and rows, full of people. A spotlight hit the stage, illuminating an organ, but… there was no organ player. Only tall curtains swaying in some breeze. I tiptoed down the aisle, and sat centered with the screen. The chair seemed to hug me, and the room fell dark [crunching] as the first buttery bit hit my tongue. 

[Music stops playing, sounds of projector booting up]

NOONE: Without adverts or introduction, the film began. Images of… trees on fire and… white hooves galloping. I recognized the picture instantly because I’ve seen it a hundred times. “The Healing Horn”. [Movie plays] Only the scenes were out of order, and the unicorn… her horn was misshapen, like… a rotten tree branch. The evil prince’s face, too, was… was wrong. 

NOONE: Feeling out of place I – I looked around. The audience, I… I realized, was not people but… mannequins. 

NOONE: All of a sudden, a familiar scent entered the dream. Ocean. I was no longer alone. The dusty projector light made it difficult to suss, but a few seats over… was the Candleman. His eyes and mouth were… deep black pits inside a mess like a wet gunny sack, sagging down the floor. Without turning, he spoke. 

[Growing noise stops]

OTTO, interrupting abruptly: He – what?! [Shifting] What did he say? 

NOONE: [Sighing] It was like a – a voice underwater. The words could hardly escape the folds of skin. He repeated them to me. 

NOONE as the FERRYMAN, glitching: “The faraway drifts near. Tread long, then sink deep. Two flows from one, and here, is whole again.”

OTTO: And then? [shifting in the chair] What else? 

NOONE, as the FERRYMAN: “Here. Here. Here.”

NOONE: He just repeated over and over.

OTTO: There must be more! Try, try! Interact with the dream!

NOONE: There was no more!

OTTO: (raising his voice) Ask who he is, ask what he wants!

NOONE: (raising her voice) It doesn’t work that way!

OTTO: You were right there! Don’t tell me you did nothing?! Not a damn thing!

NOONE: Stop!

OTTO: [farther away] I’m beginning to doubt you’ve seen this Candleman! [Noone struggling] Perhaps you’ve invented the whole story! 

NOONE: Please, stop- my head!

[Otto hisses (gets hit?), sounds of something being knocked over, Noone runs out of the room.] 

[Otto huffs and stops the tape]

[Click. Blank noise. Another click]

[Various shifting noises. Silence. Door opens and someone walks, then closes it]

OTTO: [far away, stern] What are you doing? With the mirror. [Steps] You’re up to something, but we’ll let it slide. I know girls like you. 

[Shifting]

OTTO: You’re upset with me, aren’t you? [plastic clacking] Here. A pill for your headache. (Sigh) Earlier, that was… awfully…[Otto sits] that- that was not how friends act. Sleep has evaded me too. I’ve grown worried, trying to… please, forgive me. I’d very much like to hear the rest. I won’t interrupt, you have my word. 

[Silence.]

NOONE: … Fine. 

OTTO: So… you were in this theater with him. 

NOONE, narrating: … All kinds of pictured* flashed on the screen, and then he was gone, leaving me alone again. Or so I thought. The projector flickered in the booth. I dashed up, and found the door ajar. A new voice came over the PA, angry. “No patrons in the projection room!” The door was stuck, but I pushed and pushed. The PA boomed, 

VOICE, ov. with NOONE: “You must not enter!”

[Crashing, door opens]

NOONE: The projector I saw first was shaped like… a deformed eye. Then, my attention fell to… the mass on the floor. [Slimy sound] A brain? A heart? …No. It’s muscles pumped and pumped, and its tubes ran into the walls. The voice came, both from inside the room and over the PA: 

VOICE, ov. with NOONE: “Happy day, No One.”

NOONE: It… it knew my real nickname. The ones kids at school scribbled all over my books. How? Because it was in my head. …I asked, “You’re the one who’s been talking? All those voices?”. Then, I saw countless film cans around the room, and understood. It was so alone, it took to imitating. Then it said, 

VOICE, ov. with NOONE: “Are you going to leave? Like all the others?”

NOONE: I managed a… “Yes”. The thing began pulsing and, upset, it sort of cried out. 

VOICE, ov. with NOONE: “So many, they take what they want and go, or get snatched away or worse!” 

NOONE: It paused, then went on, 

VOICE, ov. with NOONE: “Whatever you desire, it’s yours.”

NOONE: … But I didn’t want anything from it. The PA belted, 

VOICE, ov. with NOONE: “The pendant! You wanted that!”

NOONE: The pulsing worsened until another voice came within the first,

VOICE 2, ov. with NOONE: “You’ve driven another away!” [Not overlapping, repeating: “You’ve driven another away!]

NOONE: I felt bad for it. Or them… this place had been warped by pain, and wanted so badly to keep me. Even the walls began throbbing. What could I do?!

[Noise intensifies, Dream!Noone breathes heavily] 

NOONE: I – I ran. Down the stairs, out of the theater. 

[Dream!Noone runs away]

NOONE: On the promenade, the lights were flashing so as to be dizzying. The PA screeched, 

VOICE, ov. with NOONE: “Everyone needs someone! Don’t leave me alone!”

NOONE: The walls began to cry that dark thick liquid, pooling around me, I looked up. From the floor above, the Candleman stared, pointing at my chest. At the pendant. I flung it down into the liquid, then he reached a hand toward me and – 

[All noise stops]

NOONE: And all faded, as the PA sobbed,

VOICE, ov. with NOONE: “Don’t take her! Not this one, too…” 

[Narration stops. Silence. Shifting]

OTTO: T-There was um… uh, e-excuse me, a curious phrase. “Warped by pain”. Is that how you feel, sometimes? 

[Silence]

OTTO: Noone? Are you still angry with me? Or… distracted by the mirror? 

NOONE: Behind my ear…  there’s… a sore. 

OTTO: Is that why you wanted the mirror all along?

NOONE: [Hum] It’s like the ones I used to get. I need to see it. 

[Shifting]

OTTO: Nothing’s there. It’s red because you’ve been picking at it. 

NOONE: …I have one more question for myself. Why do I have these dreams? Water sickness, that’s my answer. 

OTTO: Noone. It’s wiped out of your system. There have been no known reinfections. It’s in your mind. 

NOONE: (with increasing distress) What if the cure is the cause? I never had nightmares or headaches before all of this, before going on telly, before – before this! –

OTTO, interrupting: (whispering) No, no, come, come, come, come here, my girl. [Shifting, Otto hugs Noone] You’re not sick. You’re perfectly fine. You’re a perfectly wonderful little girl. This time I will protect you. 

[The mirror falls on the ground and breaks]

NOONE: I’m sorry! I’m sorry, uh, you were squeezing so tight and… it slipped. 

[The mirror shards are picked up. Otto throws them away] 

OTTO: You asked why you dream. The truth? Nobody knows. My studies always assumed they were more than the brain’s way of filtering unconscious thoughts. But I had no answer either. An old professor of mine thought he did. He believed dreams come from an ever shifting plane, a quiddity of consciousness. 

NOONE: Quidd-i-ty…

OTTO: Quiddity. The essence of a thing. In this case, a semiatangible plane outside the mind. 

NOONE: Is it the same as mutual dreams? I don’t understand.

OTTO: My colleagues didn’t either. I’ve flip-flopped over the years, but I figured it was impossible to prove.

NOONE: Will I ever get rid of them, then? Will I ever leave the Coppy?

OTTO: You must understand, you are a unique case. I want to let you go, as soon as – 

NOONE, interrupting: I’m better?

OTTO: (sighing) Yes. As soon as you’re better. [Otto stands, picks something up] Now – 

NOONE: I know, I know. (Lower pitch, mimicking Otto) “Sweets for my sweet”. …Do I have to go back to my room?

[Sounds of plates] 

OTTO: I’ve- got to tidy, [wrappers] and, you reminded me there’s something I need to find. On you go. I’ll come by later. 

[Shift, audio cuts]

[Audio starts]

[Otto looks through papers, and sighs] 

OTTO: Ah, I found it. The paper that stained my professor’s career. Kept it all these years, hoping and dreading there was truth in these words… 

OTTO, reading: “We know now that there is no center to the universe. Previously we thought it was the Sun, before that we thought it was the Earth. Our species always insists that ours is the quintessence of experience. Yet scientific observation proves our folly ad nauseum. If geocentrism took centuries to disprove, the question is not if but when the same will happen to reality itself. That which we are equipped to perceive may not be the only world. Let alone the predominant one.” 

[Click]

[Outro plays]

------------

*This is what she actually says. I have no idea why.

[eldritch-spouse]

[Part 4 of Gifted. Fem reader.]

Previous poll winner: " I think I'll... Thank the chef, yes. " (37.1%)

TW: Violence; Descriptions of cannibalism; Slight gore; Knife play; Extremely dubious consent.

New choice! [VOTE]

" I think I'll... Thank the chef, yes. "

Do you really have a choice anyway?

You recall him, his voice mostly. A southern drawl that sounded almost goofy, but imposing. Which is fitting, you suppose, he's an intimidating cinder block of a monster. A mushroom monster, you've seen one or two of those before, they're generally quite pretty in your opinion. The chef in particular struck you, the dotted patterns on his arms glowing faintly in the cavernous dark of Sybastian's mouth when he reached in for you.

In truth, you're not too sure how to feel about him. And that insecurity manifests when you purse your lips, possibly regretting your cooperation regarding these two's lascivious suggestions.

" My my, she really is tame. " Vesper fans himself. " Oh how I regret handing her over! You and I would have had so much fun back in Lust, honey. "

You shudder, believing every word he says. Maybe a bit of fear here is healthy, you can only imagine what kind of animal you'd become in his hands.

" Well then, go! " The Icon urges, facing away from you and Santi dramatically. " I won't let myself stare a second longer, lest I ruin this game. " This guy is such a theater dork, you can't believe you sucked him off. And so happily too.

Nevertheless, Santi takes the warning to heart, ushering you up as soon as you have a couple more forkfuls, not enough to last you long. It's a waste of perfect cuisine, frankly. The incubus walks you through the crowd, hand locked with yours, ever determined to soothe you via gentle touches. You appreciate that about him, this demon's been very kind to you so far, for whatever reason. Maybe because you chose him... Well, it was a good choice, you reckon.

Speaking of choices, you're still not too sure about this last one. Every step through the crowd makes your heart beat a bit harder, a bit faster. Will things work out here too?

" You're so tense, love. Is it butterflies? " Santi teases. " Don't worry, keep up this precious attitude and everything will be fine. "

Encouraging...? Not really.

The doors to the kitchen are tall, a brilliant white, and although there's supposed to be windows in each one of them, the glass there is obscured, meaning the inside is a mystery to you. You can hear the sounds however. Nothing too suspicious, chatter and clinking, mostly.

When the two of you reach those doors, your back is basically glued to Santi's front, fear and dread keeping you stock still. The demon is unbothered, simply pushing the large doors apart and edging you inwards.

Now this... This is what you call a real kitchen.

It's absolutely massive. Then again, that's a theme here. You do understand why things need to be larger in general, after all, many of the monsters here are bigger than humans by a considerable amount, their comfort must be catered to- However, this place tends to exaggerate in the dimensions of its overall floors. This entire kitchen is like a house, it's furnished with all sorts of equipment, reminding you of a world-renowned establishment. The brightness hurts your eyes a little, but you suppose it's necessary. How come you've never even once heard of this location?

The first thing your adrenaline-sharpened mind notes is the blood.

On what you very clearly recognize to be some modernized chopping block. On the ground, like something bleeding and squirming was dragged from said block to another huge set of doors, leading lord knows where. A large scarlet handprint you can only guess belongs to the chef on one of those doors. Then there's that cleaver, a scary-looking thing, embedded in the cutting block, some form of viscera and tissue still clinging to it. So he's not just a chef, yes, he's definitely also a butcher. And yet... You know, deep in your soul, whatever creature possibly lost its life here was likely human.

God help you.

That's not all though. As soon as your gradually panicking mind looks at anything but the trails of red present, it quickly finds ambulating creatures. Small. Smaller than the waiter, totally black but reflecting some sort of pigment, their heads floating as they work, each one clad in white kitchen garbs with varying designs. The first thing that crosses your mind nearly makes you vomit. Children?! You blink several times. No. No, they can't be, just because they're small doesn't mean they're infants, you haven't seen a single child here. Besides, you're fairly certain these aren't monsters, whatever the Hell they could be, they all look the same physically speaking, only their color accents and facial expressions distinguish them. This is some sort of clone fest. What are you looking at?! What is this?!

" S- Santi?... " Are you going insane?

" Oh right, you've never seen one of those before. " The demon reminds himself, chuckling at his own antics. You don't question why he's okay with the shady blood stains. " Those things are called bobbles. They're made here, sweetie, think of them as extra helpers. "

Things... They're things. Uhuh.

You watch silently for a couple of seconds. Most of them appear to be absorbed in their own tasks, moving efficiently between each other. Cutting vegetables, passing utensils, cleaning dishes, shouting for ingredients. Some of them occasionally glance at you two, the gray-colored ones completely neutral, the blue ones with a hint of trepidation. They're a bit cute, you'll admit, if you don't question the logic of their mere existence too much. You wouldn't mind having one of these. After a minute or two of watching these "bobbles" work in fast-paced harmony, you relax enough to detach from Santi, standing by his side warily.

Soon, one of the things, with a tall hat and slightly ripped garb, stomps over to you two. Its eyes narrow over pink-freckled cheeks, and he frowns at Santi specifically. A wooden spoon is slapped onto the demon's stomach.

" Ya hav'ta knock! Sir doesn't like it when people don' knock! " It drawls at the snickering incubus, who merely takes the hits without flinching.

" Whoopsie... Can you find it in you to forgive me? "

You muffle an amused noise as well, watching the small critter's face puff in annoyance for a couple of tense seconds. How can anyone take them seriously, with that adorable look? Finally, it gives Santi a bright smile.

" Okay! " Big pink eyes settle on you, after a concerning pause- Like it genuinely hadn't seen you all this time. " Ooh! Ya brought a piggy, sir's gonna like her! "

The bobble grabs your hand with its four-fingered one and starts trying to lead you somewhere, but you stand your ground. Santi's eyes widen and he flicks that intrusive limb away.

" Hey-! "

" No no Turnip, this one's not for the warehouse. " The look on his pale face is serious, making the bobble tilt its perfectly round head. " This one's for sir. He knows her. "

" Ooooohh... " The pink and black bobble waves its hands excitedly. " Special piggy! "

Wait, hold on- It's name is literally Turnip? What.

" Yes, exactly, I need you to get Morell for me, okay? "

" Yessir! "

Funny, didn't Grimbly say that too? Irregardless, the small being trots away, pushing past those heavy-looking doors with great effort and disappearing from sight entirely. You couldn't get a good look at what lies beyond, which is disconcerting.

The incubus begins looking around, and though you can't really tell what he's after, you don't struggle too much when he beckons you over to an empty marbled counter, and sits you atop it. O-Okay. Satisfied, he goes back to waiting, some form of excitement in his gaze, although it mixes with something else, dampening it.

" Am I... " You start quietly, some of the adrenaline crashing, permeated by uncertainty. " Going to be alright? "

The demon faces you, reading into your expression with a carefully neutral one as he ponders. You don't like that he hesitates, that he's thinking about his answer. That in itself should be telling enough. When you look away, defeated, he grabs your hand, a much smoother smile on those handsome features.

" You're tough. " He begins. " I can tell. Trust in your sixth sense and keep it up. "

He meant to be motivating, but truth of the matter is that was neither a confirmation nor a denial. You can see through it, he doesn't know, but the probably doesn't want to scare you either. Fuck.

The humdrum of the kitchen workers chattering to each other and utensils clinking around becomes an indistinct buzz while you recess into the confines of your mind, adrenaline diminishing in the face of relative inactivity. What is the world outside these walls up to, right now? With you missing, your responsibilities unaccounted for, has your family noticed your absence? Is anyone coming for you? Do they even know how you got here? Will you ever see th-

A sudden woosh snaps you back into alertness, the bloodstained doors leading to who knows where parting smoothly. And he powers in. Him being, of course, the chef.

While not nearly as large as monsters like Vesper, he's towering in his own right. You've never been one to realize how much body language matters, but looking at... Santi called him "Morell", you think- You feel more on edge than you ever did around the massive demonic lord. It's his stance. Shoulders always squared, always flexed and tense, he constantly looks as if moments away from lunging towards something or someone. The few minutes of indirect interaction you've had with this monster were enough to transmit an idea of volatility, as if violence is always just one blink too late away.

The white garb he dons can no longer be called white by any stretch of the imagination, coated in splatters featuring varying shades of red. He looks mildly tired, and angry. You're not sure if he's shining from sweat or some differing condensation- The breeze you felt as soon as those doors parted suggests what lies beyond is cold. Like a fridge room.

A crimson-stained towel hanging from his shoulder is used to wipe bloodied hands rather poorly, before the thing is tossed away, a bobble catching it before it can hit the floor.

" This better be worth mah fuckin' time demon, ah'm two seconds away from- "

As soon as those curious cyan hues bounce up to regard the demon, they instantly dart to you, and he stills. Oh yes, he definitely recognizes you. You're being stared down.

" Well then... " The way bold bright teeth poke above that chunky scarf doesn't bode well with you.

" I take it this is worth your 'fuckin' time'? " Santi jabs.

The large mushroom crosses his arms over his chest, not moving from his spot. " Wha's this all 'bout? " Although he makes an effort to glare at the incubus, he keeps looking back to your figure on his counter. You wonder if he might be mad that you're sitting on it.

" Oh relax, I just brought the minx here to see you. " Santi does a placating gesture with his palms, though you feel a slight sting of betrayal when he opens his mouth again. " See, we just had dinner. Our present here loved your work sooo much she said she'd like to personally give her regards to the chef, and who am I to stop her, hm? "

Morell looks straight at you. Nerves force you to gulp, scratching at your arm and face lightly, better to stay silent than say something even more embarrassing.

Eventually, he relaxes slightly. It's a minuscule change is demeanor, but you don't miss it. " ... That so? "

When the demon doesn't reply, you realize it's a cue. What are you supposed to say here? You did agree to it. Besides, if not him, then they'll just toss you at someone else. There's no easy win, might as well do what's kept you alive thus far- Being polite.

" Y- Yes. " You look him in those cyan eyes, oddly shrunk pupils swimming in a sea of black. He seems like the type of guy that values eye contact.

Slow, evaluating seconds pass.

" Aight... Tha piggy can stay with me. " He says it with a chuckle, looking a lot brighter than he did not even a minute ago.

Santi nods, then quickly turns to you, rubbing a clawed hand on your cheek. His face betrays sadness, a little bit of resignation, disappointment. " Sweetness, it looks as if this is where we part. " He leans down, nibbling softly at your bottom lip, before brushing through your hair and taking several steps away. As if forcing himself. " For now, of course. " You can't really tell if that's good or bad.

" Ya done? " A decidedly not amused voice rings. For such a large man, Morell moved quietly, having closed some of the distance between you. " Git tha fuck out already. "

Santi only chuckles, making his way out to the main restaurant area. " Have a great time, love. " One last cheeky wink is all you get, before the demon is out of your sight.

For the first time in a while today, you feel truly alone. Santi had given you a sense of security up until now, even if said sense was erroneous. Here however, you're entirely on your own, feeling hunted, feeling cornered. There's no telling what this monster might want from you.

Keep calm. Breathe. Smile a little.

You'll make it through this.

Morell stares at you intently.

You seem to be faring well for someone who got thrown to the wolves, all things considered. No longer encased in lace, sporting clothes he swears he's seen before, not trembling in fear with your tail tucked between your legs like earlier. Tsk, Santi's been treating you too well, you ought to have some fear if you're staying here for a while. Fear keeps you alive, keeps you sharp.

Point being, you're clearly the clever type, you wouldn't have made it this far in such an intact condition if you pushed the wrong buttons with the demon. Sure, the shroom's certain you had to pay some sort of price to acquire these accommodations, but you probably knew that prior. He can tell you're not like most of the pigs he gets here, the kind that squeal and kick as soon as he nears them. No, it's in your eyes, you're so much smarter than that.

Doesn't matter, you're about to sing to a different tune with Morell now.

The monster moves once Santi leaves the premises, to the sink only a small distance away from the counter you're perched on. Though his back is mostly turned to you, Morell is confident you wouldn't try to bolt out. You know that you can't, know that without the staff's protection you're just mince meat for the crowd. His hands are rinsed and the towel atop his shoulder is wrung dry of the last pig's blood. He's glad to be rid of that one, they were troublemakers since the time they got dragged in to the very last breath- But you gotta appreciate the consistency, at least. If it was a calmer day, he'd play around with them some more before bringing down the hatchet, so to speak.

Ridiculous, here he is saying he's so busy, about to damn it all just so he can fuck with you. But how can he not? Look at you, just politely sitting on his counter with that fat fucking ass. Looking around, occasionally smiling briefly at his bobbles' antics. It's like you fit here already.

" Well pumpkin- " He starts, giddy that your spine straightens immediately. " 'S a pleasure ta have ya 'ere in mah lil' kitchen. "

The mushroom turns then, wiping his hands, cracking his knuckles. " Ya like tha food? "

You study his face for a moment, confused by the hint of mirth there, but eventually deem it correct to nod. Morell doesn't really care, he knows his food is good. Though he's a little upset you didn't get to try the best parts. When Grimbly dashed into the kitchen, the waiter told him everything. You, tangled between Vesper and Santi- To think that you've gotten an Icon of Hell's attention this soon! What kind of honey is up your ass?! Santi specifically requested something without human, and now he knows why.

Out of genuine fondness. Because really, you don't know what human tastes like. His dishes can oftentimes make that meat blend into other types, visually. If he arranges it well enough, you'd deem it a regular old steak, eat it, and call it delicious. All the incubus had to do is stay quiet. But he went the extra length to make sure you didn't obliviously consume your own kind, the sap.

" Good... Tha's good. " He says, after a pause. " Stop by whenever yer hungry. Ah'll get'cha somethin'. " Something worth eating.

" O- Okay. " Yeah, you're starting to click some things together by now, aren't you?

" Y'know, I'm real hurt, piglet. "

You blink, likely wondering if "piglet" was meant to address you -It was- Unsure where he's taking this. The chef paces several steps your way, ending up looming by your side, enjoying the way you immediately cast your gaze to your lap. He twirls locks of your hair idly.

" Mah memory's blankin', who got ya outta that mimic's jaws again? "

Looking up, searching his face for clues you won't find, you answer hesitantly but truthfully. " It was you? "

Morell snickers. " Yeah, sounds right. After all, who knows what could'a been o' you by now if ah hadn't? "

A sour expression crosses over your smooth features. Yes, think about it. Linger.

" An' still, ya pick the fuckin' demon. " The chef shakes his head, ruffling your hair. You shiver beneath him, likely realizing, just as most others do, that there's a great deal of strength behind his spongy-looking hide. " Ya can't make this shit up. "

" ... But- " What could've been an attempt to defend your incorrect choice is swiftly ignored.

" But what, sweetie? I was tha only one who could'a freed ya there! " The shroom points to himself, as if it was obvious.

Maybe he was, maybe he wasn't, you don't need to know that. Morell stands and watches a myriad of expression race on your complexion. Fear, confusion, dread. " I'm... I'm sorry? "

Hah, oh that's so cute!

His guffawing nearly shakes the kitchen walls, rocking his chest. You're adorable, he'll give you that much. Is this your attempt at placating him?

" 'S not a big deal anymore. " He waves, eventually stopping his fit of laughter. " C'mere. "

You hesitate a healthy amount, he can understand it. Though eventually, when Morell makes it clear he's not going to drop it, and that his patience isn't limitless, you plop down from the counter, taking careful steps his way.

" Closer. " He beckons when you refuse to stand in front of him. " Ya spooked? " Of course you are, he's been around your kind for so long, you're all like mindless gazelles, deers in headlights, pigs squealing to the skies and running around in circles.

It's when the chef places a heavy palm on the counter, and it rattles, that you zing to action and get just as suffocatingly close to the monster as he was hoping. " There we are, was it hard? " It was rhetorical, but he's delighted that you shake your head anyway. " Thought so. "

Morell takes a moment to appreciate the sight of you.

All humans are petite, and although there's something dainty about your demeanor right now, he can see your muscles tense like coiled springs, ready to snap, ready to run. Fight or flight is a beautiful look on you. You have a good amount of meat on your bones, he can tell with a couple of hearty gropes to those bare thighs. Hmm yes, fine cuts, good stuff. His fingers knead at you like dough, and Morell feels a sick little twitch in his pants when you start trembling.

" S- What are- "

" Sshh, quiet naw. " He warns, letting full hands roam around. The chef thrills himself with your obedience, going from calves to back of the thighs, gripping your ass firmly and snickering at your choked noise.

You're a lovely little thing, the kind he feels sorry for when he butchers, because they could last so much longer. Demand here is crazy, which is good for his pockets, but also saddening at times. Morell doesn't get to fool around with the pigs as much as he'd like to anymore. Especially not tonight! When his hands move to your front, palping at your belly, he shakes his head, clicking his tongue.

Practically empty. As he suspected. You haven't eaten anything properly yet, certainly not with those sluts, they probably think feeding you jizz will work out just fine, typical. They don't know how to care for a piglet at all! And to think you willingly chose him, how dim are you? You wince when he grabs at you more firmly, and it's enough for Morell to give it a rest.

" You don' look so full, piggy. " The chef tuts, patting your abdomen. " Knowin' them types, you prolly didn' get ta eat much since ye got here. "

He watches you squirm briefly, either tickled by the softer touch or wanting to stop it. " I'm... It's okay, I'm not that hungry. "

Liar. You're small and weak, you should be eating anything you can in this environment. So dumb, so naïve, it's a wonder luck has been on your side thus far. " Ya sure? " He squints.

" Y-Yep, thank you. "

Cute.

" Welp, in that case- " Morell lets some of his anticipation show, shrugging and moving to be mere inches away from your form. " We can skip right to tha good stuff. "

The whites of your eyes widen and you give him this puzzled, anxious look. Oh come now, don't play dumb. " Ya wanted ta thank me, right? " The shroom grabs your tiny hand in his and puts it to his chest, a lidded, much more playful and relaxed expression on his face. " Don' lemme stop ya, sweetie. "

Oh, the gradually rising panic in your face is just precious. He's a lot, not to toot his own horn, but Morell gets your nervousness. He's been called "an absolute unit" a couple of times and it strokes his ego. Speaking of, you need to be stroking something else right now. He's been pent up these last couple of days, preparing for this event hasn't been kind to Mori's libido.

The chef is starting to think he's going to have to do things the hard way until you finally move. While your palm shakily slides down his chest, feeling slightly excited breathing, he busies himself with untying the long sash around his waist. Much to his disappointment, you don't grope, not that he expected you to anyway. Chuckling, Morell corners you further against the counter, spotted arms on each side corralling your body. His cock jumps in his pants when you give him a doe-eyed look full of uncertainty. You're purposely lingering on his abdomen, avoiding what lies beneath. The chef responds to this by flexing slightly, allowing you to feel his well-built constitution. Yeah sure, he's showing off, let him have this.

You don't look him in the eyes when you eventually relent, fingers sliding down. He's impatient however, roughly grabbing your hand. He reaches for one of the torn sleeves of his white smock and parts it, shrugs off the other one, letting the outfit fall to the floor, kicked aside by heavy-looking boots. You're apparently fascinated, studying his upper body openly, visibly flustered. Morell smiles when you focus on a particularly dark mark on his arm, stare all you want. He rips you back into focus by firmly smoothing your hand over the raging hard-on tenting his black pants, unable to conceal his laughter when you audibly gasp. Aw, don't flatter him like that.

When Morell drops his grip, your fingers remain static, and he rolls his eyes. " C'mon, ya scared? " He parrots.

Scared is an understatement.

This guy puts you off. Plus, he's packing heat.

At the risk of sounding filthy, you'll admit he's not the biggest you've seen, that title now falls squarely onto Vesper. The Icon's size didn't strike you as something note-worthy- He's already gigantic in comparison to you, of course his junk would be appropriately huge as well. Not to mention your mind was a little clogged at the time. Morell is a whole other story, you might very well have to take him, and he's bigger than Santi for sure. It's cause for some alarm, but then again, this whole situation is.

He seems to have taken your shock as a compliment, though it's very clear the monster's patience is waning the longer you stall.

Shakily inhaling, you give the chef what he wants, stroking generously through the fabric and occasionally squeezing at him. It... It doesn't feel like he has anything on beneath these pants. Your efforts get the monster to sigh in pleasure, looming over you and adjusting, giving you more to work with. There's nothing left to the imagination, the shape imprinted on his clothes lets you know exactly what you're dealing with. And frankly, a part of you is oddly flattered by how much he appears to be getting into it, pressing back against your hand, throbbing, humming lowly.

He seems frustrated, stressed maybe. You don't know how much of a good idea it was to let those two basically nudge you into this.

" Mmf, they teach ya some or are you jus' excited fer me already? " Morell drawls.

Declining to answer, you merely keep going. Part of you was worried he'd call you out, as you're very clearly trying to rile him up so he'll settle for a sloppy clothed grind- As if.

The ring of a zipper coming down is predictable to you, a flushed blue cock already stained by its own precum bouncing free. Fuck, he's really not packing lightly. The look on the chef's face says you better resume, so you opt not to test his patience too much. He's heavy. To be fair, you don't doubt he's dense in general, but the warmth of his member on your hands has you gulping for what might come next. Nevertheless, you try not to look at your own motions while you work him, gaze scanning the kitchen instead.

It's incredible. All this time, the group of bobbles hastily working hasn't casted a single glance at you two. It's as if... This is normal to them. Like they know better than to gawk. You can only wonder what types of obscenities go down here.

You're still staring by the time Morell groans, reaching for your top. The surprise of slightly cold fingers edging up the hem of said cloth has your motions faltering, resigning yourself to letting the cook remove that oversized shirt. What's the alternative? Make him angry? You agreed to this, might as well try to get into it.

Nipples pebble in the cold air near immediately, and the chef laughs quietly to himself at the sight of your breasts, a discolored tongue wetting his teeth. " Everythin' about ya is jus' tha cutest, ain't it? " He grins. " Lookit 'em... "

Big palms frame your tits, and it's only now that the expression "baker hands" takes on a whole new meaning. Morell kneads at your chest in a confident and strong manner that has your breath catching. You're ashamed to admit no one's given your tits this type of attention before, feeling goosebumps rise in the wake of your unexpected pleasure. A high-pitched noise escapes when he plucks at one bud, and you realize your hand has been merely wrapped around him all this time when the monster thrusts impatiently.

" Oh? Did'ja like that? "

" N- No. " Yeah, super believable.

" Lyin' piglet. " The soft scolding is quickly followed by him bending to kiss and lick shamelessly around your tits. You can't help gulping when teeth glide and catch slightly on skin. Fuck's sake, if he actually- He nibbles slightly, spare hand forcing the one around his dripping shaft to work faster. When you look down, seeing a teal shade on his dark cheeks and most of your breast in his blunt-toothed maw, you almost panic.

" D- Don't-! " Did he just fucking throb in your hand? " Please- Don't bite! "

That bright flush intensifies, hot puffs of air wetting your skin as he all but steams, teeth flirting with your pain tolerance, forcing a frightened keen out of you, before he peels back, panting.

" Fuck yeah, yer a good catch. " Morell groans, zipping his pants back up in a vaguely uncomfortably manner. " Don' move a muscle, ya hear me piggy? "

When you don't answer immediately, he gives you an "are you testing me?" glance that installs the fear of meeting the maker into your bones.

" Y- Yes, Morell. "

Why did you say his name? You didn't need to that, you just added a personal touch into this. God damn it. Perhaps it's for the best, because the chef seems appreciative, smiling before hastily cramming himself through the bloodied doors he came from.

You have no idea what he's doing, what he'll return with. And frankly, part of you doesn't really want to know. When Morell's footsteps become distant, instincts beckon you to look towards the opposite direction, to the second pair of tall doors, the one you entered from. It's only a matter of putting on your shirt... Where is it? Who took it?! You look around frantically, but the thing has apparently vanished. Fuck's sake...

Regardless, you can just step outside the kitchen, maybe take your chances... It would be risky, but if you get in that fucking elevator! You know that's the ticket to leave this dump. You just have to figure out which floor leads to the ground level, it's that simple.

You don't even realize you're walking towards the exit.

One of the bobbles, a blue one with a shorter hat, stops next to you, some others giving you side-glances. Although she doesn't utter a word, you can see the silent warning in her face. A cautious shake of the head is all you're given, and then the doors part. Not the ones in front of you though.

" ... Where d'ya think yer going? "

It's as if your lungs collapse for a moment, air refusing to fill them. " No- Nowhere, nowhere, I- "

" And 'ere I thought ya'd behave. Tsk. "

When you zip around, you get to see the large mushroom power towards you, a sturdy-looking rope on his hands. Of course, the thing is adorned with aged red marks. There's a sadistic sort of glee on his dark face, making you take several steps back. His chest puffs, the monster bellowing out.

" Hah! Try it, piggy. " Morell taunts. " Ya take a single fuckin' step outta those doors an' ah'll hunt ya fer sport, pertty baby. "

You don't doubt him.

All you can do is gulp and hope for the best, feet rooted to the tiled ground in spite of the screaming voice that begs you to haul ass. The monster's still snickering to himself when he reaches you. You're no longer spared a hint of gentleness, as the chef grabs your arm tight and drags you to the center of the kitchen, towards one of the horrid, blood-stained chopping blocks.

You're flipped around and slammed face-first onto the wood, assaulted by the sensation of residual, cold viscera on your face. The metallic scent mingles with a woody aftertaste and you start to panic under his hand, very aware a huge cleaver lies only centimeters away from your person. Is this it? Is this the end? Is he going to cut your fucking head off?

" I'm- I'm sorry, please God- "

Your flailing, although definitely amusing to the cook, is halted when he squeezes exceptionally hard on your arm. Your limb grows numb from the sheer force, he's cutting off blood flow. A little more and he'll break your humerus, you can feel it. Getting the message, you go entirely limp, near hyperventilating.

" Easy piggy, easy- " There's a condescending pat to your head. " I'mma jus' tie ya up, 'kay? Don' make me hurt ya. " You can feel the weight of him poised on your back for a moment. " 'Cause ah'll fuckin' love it if I hav'ta. "

You whimper.

" Gonna be good for me? " He tests, already nudging your arms onto your back. You can feel the rope being weaved between them in certain patterns, movements rushed but expertly practiced. You nod rapidly, full of fear, and he hums while tying knots behind your back. One. Two. Three?! Oh, you're not making it out of this one on your own. For sure.

When the chef lets go of your bound limbs, not too tight but not too lax, you give them a test, making the shroom chuckle. " Mm, fine work if ah do say so myself. Good ta know I still got it. "

When fat fingers tug at the hem of your shorts, you can only try to focus on your breathing, shivering when the fabric is dragged down to barely hang by your knees. You still ooze remnants of your slick from prior activities, and Morell doesn't seem to miss that either, because he uses it as lube to jam a digit into you. The insertion is sudden enough to have you jump, leg jerking.

" Ey naw, don' buck at me. " The monster snorts, curling his finger and testing the waters.

You don't know why, or how, but your body warms regardless of the circumstances, walls tightening around that sole digit as if to encourage the chef. And all you can say to yourself is that it's a result of Vesper and Santi's influence. Residual effects, probably. It must be! You wouldn't be into this otherwise, right? You wouldn't find it hot that you're helpless, being molested by a gross butcher on his own filthy chopping block. No... God please no, you don't think you can face yourself after this.

The mushroom monster, oblivious or uncaring of your inner turmoil, simply forces a second finger in, without much resistance. Fuck him and his deliciously thick hands, the familiar stretching sensation sends sparks flying behind your eyelids and you close them. You're not the only one enjoying themselves it seems.

" Damn piglet, lookit that, ya needy girl. " The chef starts eagerly fingerfucking you, giggling and moaning quietly to himself when you reflexively tighten. " The Hell were you tryin' ta run if ya needed me this bad, hm? Too much pride in that lil' noggin'... " He teases, panting.

Unfortunately, no matter how hard you may want to will it into reality, closing your eyes won't simply make this unrequited pleasure fade away. It won't make you any less wet and inviting for the chef, it won't quiet down the shlick of his lurid fingerfucking that somehow manages to ring louder than the humdrum of the constant cooking around you. All that effort is rendered moot when you let out a fevered moan and flex hard around the cook's hand, wanting more.

" Hhn- Fuck yeah. "

Far too jarringly, your cunt is emptied, there's some frantic rustling behind you, a ziiiiip, you know exactly what it is that slaps onto your ass. He doesn't seem very calm.

" M- Morell. " You hope using his name will sweeten your request. " Please be gentle, please. "

" Aww. " He chuckles, stray hand reaching to tickle under your chin, the tip of his member lines up perfectly against you. There's a gentle push, and you do your best to relax, glad he's at least doing that much for you.

Tickling becomes a solid hold of your neck.

" You'd like that, wouldn' ya? "

Morell slams home with a brute strength that not only knocks the wind out of your lungs, it feels like he's shoved your guts up to your throat. It's such an intense feeling that you believe you're sick for a moment, vision blurring as you sob out a mangled cry. For a couple of seconds, you just gasp, pussy spasming and legs shaking erratically, staring straight ahead at the grayish wall.

The chef grunts and sighs loudly, canting his hips to make sure he's fully sheathed inside you, his balls tighten and he shudders in total bliss. " Fuuck, ya wanna milk me dry, don'tcha piggy? "

You really don't care for his taunts, but it's hard not to squeal when a palm strikes across your left asscheek with the fury of a thousand suns. He amuses himself with this, it appears, stroking over the sore spot while he rocks back and forth inside your pulsing walls. He seems to struggle with your tightness, and you struggle with his girth as well, the two of you locked until he thinks to torture your poor clit. " Real fuckin' tight fer someone who's been foolin' 'round with demons. "

He won't let you squirm your way out of his hard rolls, continuing the torture until you're sufficiently relaxed for Morell to establish a slow back and forth, every thrust making you dig your nails into the flesh of your own arms. " Ya oughta stay 'ere fer a while longer. This cute an' this hot? Ah can't jus' let ya out. "

You're just trying to adapt to the cook's size, but he's far too eager, not giving you enough time to adjust before he's speeding up, jostling you. A tongue tries to wet dehydrated lips, tasting nothing but smeared blood while the scent of exotic spices clogs your nostrils and his lewd panting rattles your ears.

You're sure you must have paled like the cauliflower he has laying around when the monster stops to yank that gruesome cleaver out of its groove in the wood you currently lay on. You're not sure whether to cry, scream or simply accept things as they are. Morell grabs a firm handful of your hair, pulls your head back, and allows the blunt end of the blade to flirt with your throat.

" Naw then, do me a favor- " The blade flips, pressing dangerously against frail skin as Morell starts drilling into your small figure. " An' oink fer me, piglet! "

Oh you do.

Even if you wanted to be quiet, you couldn't.

It's everything at once. The absolutely merciless pounding into your pussy, reaching deeper than it should -Why doesn't it hurt?- Dragging hellish waves of bliss through your poor overworked brain, the terror of that cleaver possibly sinking into your body, slitting your throat open so you bleed out while he happily fucks you till your dying breath, becoming nothing more than yet another ambiguous red stain in this morbid kitchen. Nothing could ever prepare you for this, so you moan, whimper and squeal like the animal he wants you to be, doing your best to hang onto anything, tears and drool cascading down your face.

You can't tell left from right anymore, shivering at every bestial noise Morell makes above, feeling his balls slap against you with every hard piston, it's really no wonder your confused body couldn't keep up, and you truly screech in the wake of your jarring orgasm, seeing dots swimming in your vision.

" Atta girl! Nice an' sloppy... "

In spite of his confident tone, Morell's rhythm falters at your clenching. And, much to your relief, he lets the cleaver fall to your side, focusing instead on using both hands to frame your head while he bends to be flush against your back. It's a humiliating position, but you've long since stopped giving a shit about dignity here. In fact, you just want to make it out of this hellish kitchen mostly in one piece.

There's not much room for thinking when he grunts like a bull into your eardrums, gasps turning into silent gasps the second he starts slamming home deep and hard. One, two, three, four and-

His deep growl shakes you from head to toe, legs kicking instinctively as his cock flexes and he fills you like an obscene bucket. It's an uncomfortable sensation that applies too much pressure everywhere, and even if you can't be sure, you think you came again from it, very briefly. The sound of cum splattering to the floor rings in your mind while you simply wait for Morell to milk the last of his orgasm so you can come down.

" Hm, didn' have this much fun in a while, piggy. " He finally mutters, massaging your hips calmly as he rises. " Gotta say, I'm real glad ya chose ta gimme your 'regards'. "

You just groan senselessly. Your legs feel like melting jelly.

You're not sure what he's about to do next, and neither of you get to know anyway, because a group of short pitch black bodies scram in through the front doors.

" Sir! Sir please, you have to help! "

" It's serious! "

" The giant snake woman swallowed Alfredo!! "

... What?

Staring vapidly at the creatures, nothing happens for a couple of static seconds. Then the cook sighs, exasperated, before sliding out of you slowly. He shushes you when you wince, patting your sore thighs before fully laying you onto the large chopping block. You can't muster the energy to care, merely laying there and hissing at the increasing discomfort from having your arms tied this long.

" Ah'll be right back, pumpkin', promise. "

The last thing you hear is stressed murmuring, a zipper sliding up and boots stomping away, another woosh signaling the doors have closed and you're now mostly alone.

Yes, finally, some peace... A smile of relief almost makes its way to your lips before your consciousness fades entirely.

...

" So this is where she's been all this time... "

" Geez, can you believe it? I bet they just threw her in here to fend for herself. "

" In all honesty, I am appalled she has lived this long. "

" She's special, can't you tell Nebul? "

" You're much too prone to theatrics. "

Distant voices lull you back to reality, tired eyes blinking open, adjusting to the lights in the kitchen once more, before appraising the two studying your curled up form. One being the waiter, and the other that guy wearing a cloak, with the strange-looking head.

" Oh here she is, hi! " The smaller one waves, smiling bright.

" You cannot stay here for long. " The other warns. " If you intend to live, that is. This floor has fallen to total calamity. "

Yeah, you bet.

" I'll take care of this, you can go back up! " Grimbly hastily cuts in.

" You misunderstand, I'm not leaving without the human. " Although monotone, even you can sense the warning implied. Not that his coworker seems to care.

" Yeah right, like that's happening. Who knows what you'll do to this poor girl, you freak. "

" It would certainly be better than becoming an impulsive vampyre's bloodbag. "

The waiter's eye twitches. " ... How fucking dare you. "

Alright, back to square one it is. You need to leave before Morell comes back, and these two don't seem like they'll reach an agreement anytime soon.

You'll have to pick again.

Sighing, exasperated,

[hooman4ever]

I was wondering if you could do a dewy Riley and a randy meeks head cannons with a male reader?

Been struggling with motivation to get things done recently. But here's some headcannons.

Contains: Mentioned Homophobia, Mentioned Hate Crime, Male Reader, Little Gay Men With Their Little Crushes

Randy Meeks

Randy was surprised when you came along. Gay was a term Randy wasn’t estranged to, he’s stumbled upon that before with his vast movie know-how he’s seen some shit before. 

While Randy is aware of his affections for you he won’t come out and say anything after all it’s a dangerous thing to feel. If he were to tell the wrong person he could end up with a busted lip and unwanted attention from others.

Once Randy is sure of your feelings for him he would be more than relieved.

Randy will be more relaxed and affectionate. Liking to always have a possessive hand lingering on or around you. A silent gesture to the world that you were his.

Movie dates will be a constant almost every night thing. Randy will go all out. He’ll put up lights and build a fort out of red and black blankets not stopping until it felt like the two of you were in a theater. 

One time while cuddling Randy let it slip that he goes to such lengths because he hates having to hide his affections for you in public so he builds the illusion of one so he can pretend you both were in a real theater.

You thought his ranting about movies was bad? Wait till it’s just you and him, a pile of movies, and he’s trying to pick over one.

First up you’ll get the whole movie spoken to you with dramatic and sometimes shockingly beautiful depictions of multiple scenes. Never before will you see such a beautiful display of a man playing two vastly different characters at the same time. 

Next the breakdown. This is the slightly boring bit where you hear every explanation and thought to have ever existed about the movies, and why everyone but the ones Randy agreed with was wrong. 

Then finally your opinion will be the only factor that matters. 

Try to cuddle with Randy during a movie you better be more than prepared for sudden jerking and screaming as Randy’s mood moves in tune with the movie playing. 

Hands flew through the air. Shouts of agony echo through the walls of your room. “NooNOOOOOoo!” Randy shouted his hands clutched over the pencil resting on his chest before he falls back dramatically, his body thudding making you cringe. 

“And, scene.” Randy voices sitting up, his arms moving in an outward motion in front of him. 

“Thank you for that very thorough… recreation? Of the movie.” Randy looked at you as you held up a DVD. The title makes Randy cringe. “I still would rather watch this.” Defeated Randy sighs mock hurt on his face as he clambers to his feet. “Oh Y/n why must you burden me with being the only one in this relationship with a sense of taste.”

Dewey Riley

Dewey was disturbed when he first discovered his feelings for you. He had seen what happened to gay men around Woodsboro. The bruises and broken noses people had clambered into the police station alongside the stacks of hate crime records spoke for themselves. 

In private Dewey has no problem swooning for you. Letting himself daydream about you like a love-sick puppy. 

When he can Dewey will stay by your side loving to be in your company. 

On the subject of confessing Dewey would be hesitant. The last thing he needed was to be shunned from the police station and the rest of the town for confessing to the wrong person. 

Dewey would test the waters probing into your opinions by not so slyly sliding questions into normal conversations. The poor man thought he was being slick and would always be so proud of himself for a ‘successful interrogation’. 

With a little booze and a late night on your couch, Dewey would be slurring out his feelings. Ending his admitting of his affections with a “Don’t let [Y/n] know.” and a very appropriate drunk shushing. 

Dewey wouldn’t realize he’d confessed until he was out in his car early in the morning driving with a hangover. He'd call you as soon as he could, leading the call with an awkward silence until he ends up asking the big question. Losing his shit with joy when you reciprocate his feelings. 

While he would be cautious about not letting your relationship be public for safety reasons, this man will still give you small gestures of affection when out in public. As well as taking you on public dates on the DL.

Dewey let his fingers linger over the phone in his hand, your picture on his screen as your voice rang. Each word you spoke filled Dewey with both disbelief and joy. “I like you~” Dewey cut you off, promptly pressing the call hang-up button. His eyes and smile wide. 

After a few moments of happy silence, the reality of Dewey hanging up sat in and he dialed your number once more. 

“Sorry-” chuckling [Y/n] warmed Dewey’s chest and made his goofy grin impossibly bigger. 

[thecolourfulkingdom]

More tinfoil hat theories! What's the deal with Sally Starlet?

What's with her anyway? We have like +100500 theories on Wally, Home and Frank. But what about our favourite starwoman? Not enough speculations.

Let me bring you some tinfoil-y deliciousness.

Sally's colour is ORANGE as befitting, well, you know her being a literal Sun. But since Sun is also a Star it creates a strange duality.

Sun that is a star that is a performer? Oh my, dear Sally has many faces and wears many masks.

Sally's tarot card is obviously The Sun. Or is it? Let's see... The Sun is generally considered positive. It represents success, radiance, abundance, happiness, vitality, self-confidence and success. It represents good things and positive outcomes to current struggles. It also calls you to express yourself authentically.

The Sun in the upright position means: positivity, fun, warmth, success, vitality.

The Sun in the reversed position means : inner child, feeling down, overly optimistic.

Seemingly, the description fits Sally, right? But it's only a half of it. Our dear Sally may have a VERY different side to her.

But first, let's have a look at the Sally's house from Welcome Home page. It looks like a chest or even a toychest because of it's orange-yellow roof of a specific shape and like a theater stage with it's orange curtains with yellow star pattern at the same time. Oh and don't forget the red carpet in the from of it. if you look at the roof again, you will see a spotlight hanging above the "stage" part. Fancy!

But the most interesting element is the door. It sort of made into Sally's image - it has the same triangle yellow-orange elements styled like her hair around the dark orange doorframe.

The door itself has two door leafs. On both of each a side of a smiling face depicted. The Left one seems to represent the day - sky is bright cerulean with soft white clouds. Left half of the depicted face is bright yellow with red blush and orange eyelid.

Right door leaf represents night - sky is dark blue smoothly changing into the purple at the bottom with shiny yellow stars. The right half of the face is also cerulean but of different, cooler shade.

Sally of Many faces? Very well, it fits her like a performer, because changing faces that's what she does all the time.

Let's have look at The Moon card too.

The Moon. Th card itself is all about duality: two towers, two animals and one of them is tamed and the other is wild. The doubles are visible all over this card. Everything seems to echo the other, as if to allude to two possibilities. And let us not forget the fine line between conscious and unconscious...

On one hand, the Moon card can symbolize your imagination is taking the best of you. You are taking a path that you are unsure of, there could be danger lurking in the depths of the night. But the moon's light can bring you clarity and understanding . Allow your intuition to guide you through this darkness. But does Sally even possess an intuition? Good question.

Reversed Moon represent confusion and unhappiness - one wants to make progress, but isn't sure what is the right thing to do. They must deal with their anxiety and fears by overcoming them, for fears are like shadows in the dark.

I was wondering what if Wally's remark in the guestbook refer to Sally doing something that ruined their neighborhood? I mean, she already left her home once to get an audience. What if she grew bored with the small town such as Home and run away again.

Yeah, sounds what human starlets often do: ambitious young woman goes to conquer the big city. Swap big city with a human world and you will get a receipt for a disaster. Silly Sally could get entangled in the illusions of her stardom. How dangerous can it get? Given how innocent puppets are I would say, very fast.

So what did happen? Did Sally betray Wally and everyone else for fame? Dang... It would make sense why Wally dislike her.

Maybe there is more to it. I will keep digging.

Oh, also I was trying to get a better picture of her house yesterday and when I accidentally zoomed in...

And what the actual fuck is this?! Is that a skull?!!! And a worm/snail shadow from the bug post.

Sally, girl, you owe us an explanation.

[theguardianace]

AROACE POLYSHO ???? SPILL SPILL SPILL TWLL ME ALL ABOUT IT PLEASE

AROACE POLYSHOW AROACE POLYSHOW THE GREATEST THING OF ALL TIME.

things of note that i think are fun.... nene and rui had major questioning phases pre-wxs about being aroace. i'd imagine nene being really confused why everyone around her seemed so interested in dating and romance and the whole amatanormative feel of dramatic media and such. it's in so many plays, and people get in so many shipping wars/draw suggestive art for games. it's hard to ignore as a theater kid and gamer. she didn't get it and felt isolated. she came across the term aroace online but had a hard time accepting that she might be that, but eventually silently embraced it. rui on the other hand knew full well he was not like other people. he's not the kind of guy who would pick and choose a crush that isn't there. being aroace and a middle/high schooler made him feel even more lonely and alienated from his peers. he agknowledged the fact he was aroace pretty easily, but it took him a lot longer to accept that isn't a bad thing at all.

emu and tsukasa had NO clue they were aroace. did not occur to them at all. emu had to be told it was a thing and she went "huh? OHHH THATS ME !!!! :D". skipped teh entire questioning/am i broken stage and went right to "hehehehehehe". (though other people don't believe her that often. emu is so full of love. how could someone like her not fall in love with other people? she's too young. she hasn't met the right person yet. it's just a phase. her siblings started off as ignorantly aphobic, but then realized the fault of their ways and learned.). my hc for tsukasa is a bit different than other peoples, but i am fully convinced he thought he was bisexual for teh LONGEST time. "guys and girls can both be good looking, so i must be bi! yeah the extent of my feelings is "they're cool" ... what do you mean that's not what a crush is". it was a shocking revelation to him that people actually want to kiss/have sex for real. he's accepted being aroace and actively embraces it, though he still feels connected to teh bi label. he'd like the concept of tertiary attraction and probably label as bi aroace, to honor both.

i like to think that tsukasa accidentally came out first (accidentally meaning he simply forgot to tell them and then was surprised when they were all surprised). emu was like !!!!! omg samsies and nene laughed and came out, too. wxs were the first people rui ever said the words "aromantic asexual" out loud to.

i personally think aroace polyshow never actually labeled themeselves as such, but BOY do tehy act like they're all married. they just care about each other soooooo much. its platonic its queer platonic its romantic its everything all blended together. if its them, they can do anything. with the shared knowledge of being aroace, they all also sort of feel more comfortable being openly affectionate, yknow? there's no risk of misinterpretation of intent- they love each other. they love each other in a way that they cannot describe and most people wouldn't understand. they are tied by their love of shows and their love of each other. emu is really physically affectionate and they all feel safe cuddling with her. rui lightheartedly flirts and half the time i dont think he even realizes he's doing it, the other half he's just trying to be silly. nene excels in the silent acts of love, making sure the stage is clean and there's always a few snacks backstage and honeslty just being there for everyone.

they have game night/sleepover every once in a while, usually during planning stages of shows. there's also a high likelyhood one goes to another's house at least once a week for some reason.

oh also they never do romance plays ever. it was a revelation tehy only came to after coming out. it just... never occured to them to do one. and now that they all know none of them can fall in love they actively try and avoid it. they've re-written fables to be about the power of friendship, or re-imagined the tale to the point romance wouldn't even be on anyone's mind. it's not a theme the audience ever picks up on, but at the same time they do? they don't realize the pattern but nobody ever comes out of a show with that interpretation. their shows are a hit every time, too. ("story" doesn't mean "romance", after all).

wonderlands x showtime isn't a romance. it's a love story.

[jujumin-translates]

[A3!] ★ Main Story | Act 14 - DREAM CATCHER | Episode 13 - Because I'm With Friends

Ibuki: 《The hamburger, pancakes, and sandwich are over here. Thanks.》

Ibuki: No, but like, for real~. Thanks for buying me dinner just ‘cause I happened to fight off that pickpocket for you.

Izumi: (The way they’re going through all that food so fast is incredible…)

Ibuki: 《Oh, and can you add on five servings of fries to that?》

Ibuki: You guys want some fries too?

Kumon: Ah, sure, I’ll have some~.

Misumi: I’ll eat some triangle fries too~!

Ibuki: 《Can you make that seven servings of fries?》

Izumi: The five servings were just for you…

Yuki: You just ordered about as much as you’ve already ate.

Kazunari: You truly do like eating, huh, Ibukichi~.

Muku: Truly?

Kumon: Ibukichi’s big appetite is well known among their fans. They’re also popular for their big eating challenge videos.

Ibuki: Potatoes are seriously the best! Only potatoes can conquer all!

Tenma: So what are you doing in the U.S.?

Ibuki: My big sis studies abroad here, so I came to visit her. She’s gonna like, teach me English ‘n stuff.

Muku: So that’s why you’re able to speak English.

Ibuki: If you wanna be famous, that obviously means going global, so there’s no harm in being able to speak English!

Yuki: Huh… I’m surprised you’d think of things like that.

Ibuki: Duh! I can’t waste even a second of my life.

Ibuki: You only live once, so doesn’t that mean you’ve always got the leading role of your own life? That’s why I’ve gotta use all my brain cells to figure out how to make myself shine.

Ibuki: I’ll go to any lengths to make my dreams come true.

Kumon: That’s great~. If I knew English, I could enjoy musicals way more.

Kazunari: Have you seen any musicals or plays here, Ibukichi?

Ibuki: I thought I already told you I’ve got no interest in theater.

Ibuki: We’re in an era that’s all about min-maxing that sweet instant gratification. It ain’t worth paying a lot of money for something just to be held back by it.

Ibuki: You can watch movies and dramas at double speed, but you can’t do that with live theater, y’know~.

Izumi: (I see… That’s just how the kids these days are, huh?)

Tenma: Well, if that’s the case, then how’d you know about MANKAI Company?

Ibuki: ‘Cause I’ve got a friend who’s insane about you.

Ibuki: I watched a stream for free a while back ‘cause he was like really pushing it like crazy, but all the actors were like way old so I had no clue who they were.

Ibuki: And the historical stuff was like kinda boring too.

Yuki: Must’ve been the first-gen performance.

Izumi: Well, it was a little more aimed at adults.

Muku: Well, there are performances about all sorts of things, so I’m sure there must be some that you’d like.

Kumon: And maybe you’d feel differently about it if you actually saw a performance in a theater instead of just streaming it!

Ibuki: Hm~. Okay, but like, that said, what do you guys even like about theater?

Muku: Huh?

Kumon: No matter how many times I’m asked that it’s always so hard to put it into words…

Ibuki: If you come up with your own activities, you can do things independently and move things around however you want.

Ibuki: But theater’s got like scripts ‘n stuff, so you can’t just do whatever you want, y’know? Doesn’t that get boring?

Ibuki: Theater troupes seem like they’d be a huge pain with all the interpersonal relationships ‘n stuff.

Tenma: It’s because you can’t do it on your own that you can create something that you’d never be able to make all by yourself.

Kumon: Yeah, yeah, I feel like theater’s taken me to places I never would’ve imagined I’d go to!

Kazunari: And it’s crazy exciting once you get into it~! It’s something that you can’t just get when you’re on your own.

Yuki: When I think about back when I designed and wore my own clothes by myself, I wonder how much smaller that world would seem to me now.

Misumi: Doing theater together with everyone is the funnest thing I’ve ever done!

Muku: What I can’t overcome by myself, I can overcome with everyone and I can even challenge myself to go even further.

Tenma: And above all, I love the theater that I get to create with these guys here.

Kazunari: TenTen…!

Misumi: Me too~!

Kumon: I feel the same way!

Ibuki: Hmm…?

Tenma: Maybe once you find friends like these, you’ll get it.

Ibuki: …

[ ⇠ Previous Part ] • [ Next Part ⇢ ]

[thecat-inthehat]

1. Steer

Dunno how much I'll do for this year, considering all my other projects and also job hunting, but! Here we are.

(1100 words)

--

“Emet-Selch. With me.” Shining’s sonorous voice rang out across the clearing, even through the static nature of the Tower’s scrying systems. 

“Oh? And to what do I owe the pleasure, Lady Warrior?” The Ascians’ waspish, breathy voice grating to the Crystal Exarch’s hooded ears. He did nothing as she stepped up to him and took his arm in her own, merely lifted a brow in surprise. 

“Come.” Shining said, and her sculpted lips curved up into a smile. “I wish to speak with you in private.” 

The Crystal Exarch drew his staff in a half circle, and the image zoomed out once more to show the two of them walking sedately through the forest of Rak’tika. The Light dappled through the trees in slow moving waves that always seemed so sinfully lazy; even nigh on a century of the golden waves it never stopped being so tempting to simply curl up underneath a beam that stretched through the canopy. 

Emet-Selch had his hand tucked in her arm as demurely as any gentle noblewoman, his other hand lifting up the hem of his robes, and it was with some surprise that the Exarch realized how careful he was to step around the blue flowers that lay along the path to Fannow. 

“Yes, my dear?” Emet-Selch asked. “You know, if you wished to get me alone for more, hm, intimate purposes, you should’ve asked me sooner.” 

Shining laughed softly, a tinkling sound that buzzed through the Tower’s systems. “Hardly. You are not my type, Emet-Selch. Though I do appreciate your love of theater.” 

“Like recognizes like,” Emet chuckled. “Two peas in a pod we are, are we not?” 

“Debatable, but I shall let you have this,” Shining said, with a devious twist to her lips. “Now, as to why I wished to speak with you…” 

“I take it this is about your sister?” Emet-Selch asked politely. 

“Oh, look at you, you do have a brain somewhere in those coiffed locks of yours,” Shining chuckled, and stopped them in the middle of a clearing, surrounded by wildflowers. “Do you prefer to lead or follow?” 

The Ascian was quiet for just a touch too long, and the Exarch wished once again for a clearer picture, if only to see the expression that must have been flitting across Emet’s face. He really needed to upgrade the Tower’s systems if he was to keep spying on the Warriors Three in such a way. 

“This isn’t a test, Emet,” she said with no small amusement. “I’m not about to analyze you on your dancing habits.” 

“Yet that is precisely what someone who would analyze me would say,” Emet sighed, but assumed a follower’s position among the two of them, with Shining’s hand resting lightly on his waist. 

The Exarch ruthlessly squashed down the feeble feeling that niggled in his chest at the sight. 

The two of them, Warrior and Ascian, stepped into a fluid dance that kicked up petals among the flowers with the hems of their clothing. It was a waltz of some kind that the Exarch didn’t recognize, but he set the Tower to record as Shining twirled Emet around with ease, and did not react to the soft smile flitting across Emet’s lips. There was no music, which surprised the Exarch, given Shining’s predilection for such things, but it meant that he could hear their conversation clearly. 

“So, my sister,” Shining said pleasantly. 

“Which one?” Emet replied, just as genial. 

“Don’t play coy with me, Solus, you’re not cute,” Shining said, and her voice was just shy of being sharp. “You look at Nive as if she were a diamond in some pigsty. Enticing, yet you cannot bring yourself to get close. Who was she to you?” 

“Bold,” Emet said, but did not deny the accusation. “And why should I tell you? Can a man not keep secrets close to his chest?” 

“You can,” Shining agreed pleasantly, and when she twirled Emet around once more she dipped him. 

There was a flash of light that short circuited the Tower’s recording magic, yet the sound of Emet’s pained gasp was all too loud in the void. 

“But I will not let you entice her away from her duty,” Shining’s sibilant cadence slithered through the woods, undercut by birdsong and the omnipresent sound of the Light. “And you know this, you’re a smart man. You would not have lived so long otherwise. So why is it, Emet-Selch, that you are so dead set on leading her astray?” 

The scrying spell slowly repaired itself, pixel by distorted pixel, and another half circle of the Exarch’s staff zoomed in on the conversation. She held him under her power, dipped towards the forest floor and the blooming blue blossoms, his hair a haphazard disarray as he panted for breath. It almost looked scandalous, with how his chest heaved and the way her larger hand cradled the arch of his back. But the glimmering Light from her palm, the way her eyes flashed and distorted the image, twas anything but. 

“... I knew her.” He said, finally. “A color such as that stands out, does it not?” 

“... That it does,” Shining agreed, and spun them to be upright once more, with him collapsing against her chest at the sudden movement. She made no move to dislodge him and simply waited for him to catch his breath, her fingers gently smoothing his hair back from his face. The scrying panel flickered once more, and the Exarch could see how her nail traced a line of Light from Emet’s temple to his jaw. A jaw that flexed dangerously under her touch. 

“You are quite bold,” Emet-Selch repeated, and sounded almost bored. 

“I am what I need to be,” Shining responded. “Consider this your only warning. Nive and Helisent might think that your overtures of friendship and cooperation could be genuine, but will not be swayed. Are we clear?” 

“You wish me to stop,” Emet-Selch chuckled. 

“Hardly,” Shining said, and her Light-burning eyes squinted in mirth. “Merely be prepared for the consequences.” 

“Very well. I do so enjoy a challenge,” Emet-Selch said, and pulled back to place his hand on her shoulder once more. “Shall we continue? It’s been many years since I’ve had the pleasure.” 

“But of course.” The Warrior of Light said, and did not bother to hide her bell like laugh. 

The Exarch tapped his staff against the floor, and the image went dark. He did not afford himself jealousy. It would not aid him. 

But he could not get the image of their dance out of his head for hours. 

[asordinaryppl]

A3! Main Story: Part 4 - Act 14: DREAM CATCHER - Episode 13: Because We're With Our Friends

Ibuki: << The hamburg steak, pancakes and fries are for over here. Thank youuu. >>

Ibuki: Woah~ I’m seriously grateful you’re getting me dinner just ‘cause I fought off that pickpocket.

Izumi: (They’re wolfing the food down at an amazingly fast pace…)

Ibuki: << Oh, I’d like another 5 servings of fries. >>

Ibuki: You guys want any?

Kumon: Oh, sure~

Misumi: I’ll eat the triangle fries~!

Ibuki: << Make that 7. >>

Izumi: 5 of those are for themself…

Yuki:  They ordered the same amount a while ago and ate it all.

Kazunari: You really do eat well, Ibukichi~

Muku: “Really”?

Kumon: Ibukichi’s known for their big appetite. They also upload food challenge videos, and they all blow up.

Ibuki: Potatoes are seriously so good! Potatoes FTW!

Tenma: So, what are you doing in the US?

Ibuki: I came to see my Nee-chan who’s studying here. I learned English while at it, too.

Muku: So that’s why you can speak English so well.

Ibuki: If you wanna be world-famous, you gotta have a global reach, and knowing English is a must!

Yuki: Heeh… You thought this through.

Ibuki: Duh! Can’t go around wasting even a second of my life.

Ibuki: You only live once, and you’re the protag of your own life. That’s why I focus on making myself shine most.

Ibuki: I gotta go all out if I wanna make my dreams come true.

Kumon: How nice~ I’d be able to enjoy musicals even more if I knew English.

Kazunari: Have you seen any musicals or plays while staying here, Ibukichi?

Ibuki: Liike I saaiid, I’ve got no interest in acting.

Ibuki: Time is money nowadays, and you want me to pay real money just to sit there? No thanks.

Ibuki: You can 2x a movie or a drama, but you can’t do that with live theater~

Izumi: (I see, so that’s how the youth nowadays thinks.)

Tenma: Then how come you know MANKAI Company?

Ibuki: I know someone who’s obsessed with you.

Ibuki: I watched a performance that was being streamed for free a while back cause he rec'd it like crazy, but all the actors were unknown hags.

Ibuki: And I’m not really into historical stuff. 

Yuki: Could’ve been the performance with first gen.

Izumi: I guess those performances were a bit more adult oriented.

Muku: But there are all sorts of plays, so you might eventually find something to your liking.

Kumon:  You might also change your mind completely if you watch it in the theater instead of streaming it!

Ibuki: Hm~ Then, let’s turn the question around, what’s so good about theater?

Muku: Eh?

Kumon: When you ask it like that, it’s hard to sum it up in a few words…

Ibuki: When you work independently, you get to decide what to do and when you want to do it, and you can change your mind on the fly.

Ibuki: But you’ve got a script when acting, so you can’t change anything up, right? Ain’t that boring?

Ibuki: And having to get along with the others in the company sounds like a real hassle.

Tenma: It’s exactly because you’re not alone that you can create things you wouldn’t be able to create by yourself.

Kumon: Right, right! It’s like it takes you to places you’d never imagine!

Kazunari: It's super hype when you get into it~! I think that's a feeling you can't experience when you're by yourself.

Yuki: When I look back to when I was the only one who wore my self-designed outfits, I think my world was much smaller than it is now.

Misumi: Acting with everyone is the most fun!

Muku: Anything we can’t overcome by ourselves, we can overcome together, and then we can move on to the next challenges.

Tenma: Most importantly, I love the plays I put on together with these guys.

Kazunari: TenTen…!

Misumi: Me too~!

Kumon: I feel that way too!

Ibuki: Huuuh…?

Tenma: You’ll probably get what I mean when you make friends like this, too.

Ibuki: …

previous episode | masterpost | next episode

[wheels-of-despair]

Always Worth It | Ralph Penbury x You | Series Masterlist

Keeping Us Awake Summary: You and Ralph receive a pair of tickets to the Nutcracker Ballet as a Christmas gift, an event neither of you really wants to attend... how ever will you stay awake through such a spectacle? Words: 1.2k

"Oh, no," Ralph groans.

"What's wrong, pup?" you ask, looking up from your knitting at the other end of the sofa. He's holding an envelope like its contents are going to infect him with something nasty.

"My mother has sent us tickets to the Nutcracker ballet."

"How despicable of her," you tease. "We should remove her from our Christmas card list at once."

Ralph chuckles and tosses the tickets aside with the rest of the mail.

"Victoria had a phase where she wanted to be a ballerina, so I had to suffer through many a production. Mother knows I hate it."

"Then why send you tickets to it?"

Ralph leans forward and rubs his temples.

"We don't have to go, Ralph."

"She'll ask about it when we see her at Christmas," he sighs.

"We'll tell her I was ill, and we couldn't make it."

"She won't care."

"Ralph, you are an adult. If you don't want to go to the ballet, you do not have to go to the ballet."

He leans back to rest his head against the sofa. He closes his eyes and sighs, then turns his pretty face just enough to pout at you.

"Maybe it won't be as bad now that I'm older?" he suggests hopefully.

"How old were you the last time you went?" You set your knitting aside and make yourself comfortable, putting your stockinged feet in Ralph's lap. His hands come to rest on your ankles.

"It was well before I went off to school, so probably… five or six?"

"What was so bad about it?"

Ralph's face darkens suddenly, and you can see him trying to fight his way out of the memory. He starts rubbing absent-minded circles on your leg.

"It was boring. I was so little, I couldn't see much from my seat. But fidgeting was frowned upon. If I fidgeted, I'd get one warning before I had to spend the rest of the production in my father's lap. And there best not be fidgeting once I was there."

"And Victoria?"

"It was the only time she was ever able to stay still and be quiet." Ralph sighs. "Did you go through the ballerina phase?"

"I did not," you smile.

"Really?" Ralph asks with an air of shock. "I thought all little girls must go through that."

"Not all of them." You can feel your own mood dampen with a resurgence of childhood memories.

"How long has it been since you last attended the ballet?"

"I've never been," you confess.

"Never?" Ralph asks, lifting his head from its resting position.

You chuckle and summon your best imitation of your mother: "I'll not pay good money to watch half-naked trollops prance around on stage!"

Ralph grins. "In that case, darling, we must go. Just so you can tell your mother you went to watch the half-naked trollops."

"We don't have to if you don't want to, Ralph."

"I want to go with you," he smiles.

"You're sure?"

"I don't have any good memories of the ballet. I suppose it's time I made one."

"Right this way, Mr. and Mrs. Penbury."

You and Ralph follow the usher up the stairs of the theater and into a private box. He exits with a bow and leaves you alone. You walk to the edge and look down at all the seats filling up below.

"Your mother really went all out," you observe, turning back to Ralph. He hovers by the door uncomfortably.

"Penburys don't mingle with the common folk," he says with a roll of his eyes.

"Are you alright, Ralph?"

He nods. "I'm remembering things, now that I'm back here."

"Things like what?" you ask. He scans his surroundings like he's afraid. "Ralph? Come sit down, you look like you've seen a ghost."

You take his hand and lead him to the cushioned chairs. You each drop into a seat, and you take his hands in yours.

"I used to have nightmares about the mice," he mumbles.

"The mice?"

"There's a big battle with a bunch of men dressed as mice and it's terrifying. Always covered my eyes, but every time I checked to see if they were gone… they weren't."

"Men-sized mice definitely sound like something worth being afraid of."

Ralph sighs.

"We can go anytime you want to, pup," you remind him with a squeeze to his hands. "You can even tell your mother you came. Because you did. You don't have to stay through something that scares you."

"I'm not a child anymore," he says stubbornly.

"Everyone feels fear."

"I'm more afraid of falling asleep," he smirks.

"I'll keep you awake," you whisper, leaning in to kiss his cheek. He blushes, and it's the first time he's looked anything other than pale all night.

"Do you think anyone else is coming?" You look around, counting four other chairs. "Surely it's not just us up here."

"She probably gave Victoria a ticket too, but I haven't talked to either of them. It wouldn't surprise me if they both came."

"I actually kind of hope Victoria makes it," you say. Ralph looks at you in confusion. "I've never seen her still and quiet before."

You share a mischievous smile and return your attention to the crowd below as you wait for the show to begin.

No one else had arrived by the time the lights dimmed; it was just you and Ralph in that lonely little box nestled into the side of the theater. You couldn't see the boxes on either side of you, but the ones on the other side of the theater weren't very crowded. Perhaps London's elite had better things to do tonight.

Ralph was right. The ballet was incredibly boring. How could anyone expect a child to sit still through this? You leaned your head on Ralph's shoulder and wondered if falling asleep would be the worst thing you could do…

Until you had a better idea.

Ralph was shifting and sighing and struggling to stay awake himself. With a quick scan of your surroundings, you confirm that you're quite alone in your little box, hiding high above the crowd.

You start with a hand on his knee.

You lean your head on Ralph's shoulder again and rub light circles on his thigh with your thumb, slowly creeping up his inseam. You're just inches away from your target when he finally whispers, "What are you doing?"

"Keeping us awake," you whisper in his ear. He huffs out a breath through his nose, and you smile. Your fingers reach their destination and massage gently. He melts into your touch. When you slowly unfasten his trousers and let the cool air seep in, he whimpers.

"Shh," you whisper, reaching up with your free hand to turn his face toward yours. You draw his eyes away from the mice-men prancing onto the stage and capture his mouth in a kiss to swallow his pretty sounds of pleasure.

Ralph Penbury isn't leaving this theater without a good memory of attending the ballet, and neither are you.