#yeah i’m in too deep in this hellhole

[hailqiqi]

Done Right, in the Proper Place

In memory of Quil Appreciation Weekend...! I keep forgetting to post my fics to tumblr, which is very terrible of me. This fic is my Garden Party gift for @xluminaheart

Words: 3,319

Read in full below or on AO3 here

>>>>>>>>>⚔︎

It was almost funny, really, how quickly hope died. One minute you’d be full of zest, raring to take on the next big challenge after surviving the odds – top of the world, invincible. The next you were gazing at your own blood, transfixed by the way flesh is actually layered like it is in the first aid books and oh, that couldn’t be a good sign, could it?

It wasn’t, it couldn’t be. And unless – probably, even if – there was a first aid kit somewhere in this godforsaken hellhole, there wasn’t anything that could be done about it.

His exposed flesh glistened darkly, almost ominously. It’s me, it seemed to say. I’m the reason you were finally so useful. I’ve been here all along.

Right then. He released the fabric, letting the feathers fall back into place and hide it all from view. Lucy’s gaze was still on him, but hell if he knew what to say.

Sometimes she walks too close to the grave, Lockwood had once said. And now here she stood in front of him, her boots covered in ice, his very own angel of death.

‘Well,’ he said, finally. ‘That’s a mess.’

‘Oh, Quill…’ she said, her voice thick. Steam rose from her shuffling feet, and ice cracked on the hem of her feathered cape. He couldn’t look her in the eye.

They’d come so far in the last 24 hours, and he’d seen her pushed to the brink of exhaustion, far beyond the point where good agents gave up. And he’d been the one to keep her going. He’d been the one to keep them all going. The way out was behind him, they’d made it – he’d made it – and in a moment he’d step through, and then what?

Then what?

‘Typical,’ he spat. ‘And I was feeling so chipper.’

‘Listen,’ Lucy said. ‘Maybe you’d better stay here.’

He looked up sharply. ‘What, on my own? See you all go through without me? Leave me standing here like a pillock in the dark?’ Maybe she was comfortable in the quiet darkness, but Quill couldn’t think of a worse place to die. ‘I don’t think so.’

She had the audacity to look surprised. ‘But, Quill, that wound…On the other side…’

Her voice trailed off, and he took a deep breath, feeling his lungs expand along with his traitorous sides. ‘I know,’ he said. ‘Maybe.’ Probably. ‘But if it happens, it’s got to be done right, in the proper place.’

Somewhere with light, somewhere with people. The thought of dying alone – or living alone forever in this silent half-world, where the walls were all just out-of-true and everything glittered with frost – made fear claw at him, its icy grip digging into the skin of his throat despite the cape.

No. He would not die here.

‘Anyway…’ He grimaced as Lucy gazed at him, her eyes wet. ‘I’m not staying here. Especially in this stupid outfit.’ She didn’t smile. ‘Now – we need to go through.’

Lucy didn’t move. She stood there, her tall figure both so at home and so out of place in that cold, grey room, and suddenly she looked so young. He wanted to tell her it would be all right, but part of him wanted her to tell him it would be all right – and they both knew the words would be empty. There wasn’t much to say, anyway; sometimes, things happened, and now, finally, it was Quill’s turn.

Summoning all his strength, he’d just moved to turn when she spoke again. ‘Quill…You were brilliant just now.’

He paused. ‘Yeah.’

She swallowed, considering her words, and oh God, he couldn’t do this. If Quill was about to face his death he was going to face it with his head held high and his eyes dry, and that meant nipping this in the bud before she got going.

‘Without you—’

‘You and Tony and the others would never have made it, would you?’ He grinned. ‘Glad I made a contribution.’

‘Oh, God,’ she said and really, that said it all, didn’t it?

He held out his hand. ‘It’s OK. Take my hand, Lucy, and let’s go.’

She closed her eyes briefly, breathing deeply through her nose. Then she met his gaze and took his hand.

Together they walked over the narrow little bridge back towards life. The irony of the dead creating a path back to life was not lost on him, nor was the irony that this path back to the living world would lead to his own death. It was poetic, even, one might say.

The ghosts around them swirled and screamed, the noise drowning out the sound of their footsteps on the iron bridge. The air was freezing cold, but Lucy’s hand was warm in his, her presence a quiet comfort.

Quill had held Ned’s hand as he died. A cry of dismay had been all the warning Quill had had before Ned fell to the floor, writhing and gasping as his skin turned blue. Kate and Bobby had held the Spectre at bay and Quill, in his dull blindness, had only been able to hold Ned’s hand.

He’d emptied three vials of adrenaline into Ned’s thigh, of course, but the Spectre had been malicious and hungry and Quill had long ago learnt that if a ghost truly wanted you dead, even the faintest touch was as good as a bullet to the heart. The adrenaline had been as useless at saving him as Quill had been at keeping him safe, but he liked to think he’d at least managed to provide some comfort, in those final moments.

They were passing through the centre now. Bright neon lights suddenly shone ahead and pain bloomed from the wound in his side, making his head spin. He gripped Lucy’s hand tightly and focused on putting one foot in front of the other. She gripped his hand back.

Lucy – God, Lucy. He’d never felt so grateful for Lucy. She was meant to come last, he had been meant to protect her from whatever could be waiting for them on the other side. He’d managed to protect her from Gale, at least. Lockwood would surely forgive him for being more burden than shield now.

His steps were heavy, each one feeling more and more impossible as they slowly emerged from the vortex. The lights on this side were bright and his senses all rushed back at once, overwhelming in their enormity; but Quill was already disorientated, his vision blurry, his breaths coming in small gasps as his whole body seemed to burst into flame. His head was held high, he was sure, and he tried to grip Lucy’s hand tighter as he went to take that final step. Then it all went black.

⚔︎

Of course, it hadn’t stayed black. Quill had woken back up to the sounds of Lucy – sweet, hard as nails, fiercely loving Lucy – gearing up to deliver his eulogy. At least she had sounded suitably tearful. He’d put a stop to that right quick, though, because there are some things one just doesn’t need to hear.

His memory of the night was surprisingly clear, and he had a good recall of everything that had happened right up until the paramedics shot him up with the good stuff while loading him into an ambulance. His agents had bundled him onto a trolley and taken the lift, like a group of grisly couriers. They’d been wheeling him towards the front doors when Sir Rupert had appeared with an army of thugs, and from then on it was a discombobulating haze of screaming, pain, smoke, and crashing as they careened around the Hall and (eventually) out onto the Strand. Quill had been given today’s paper earlier, and apparently the Hall and most of the building had been completely destroyed with over fifty dead. Quite impressive for a day’s work, really.

(He’d been trying not to think about which of the dead he might know. Most of his Fittes contacts had cut him off, anyway.)

None of that, however, was what had been on repeat in his head all day as he lay in his hospital bed at St. Mary’s. Instead his thoughts kept pinging back to those moments when he first woke up on that hard, tiled floor, to the sound of Lucy’s tearful voice. George’s hand had been in his, his grip tight and warm and unyielding. Holly had been covered in his blood, a testament to how hard she’d worked to save him. And Lockwood’s coat – the coat that had formed a huge part of his new identity – had been in tatters, wrapped around him in a makeshift bandage, and then used to keep him warm (and hide the contraband that George had insisted upon. Quill had taught him well). Maybe it was stupid – and, frankly, embarrassingly sentimental – but Quill had never felt more loved.

A little over fifteen hours later, and Quill was wondering if he’d imagined it. Afternoon sunlight streamed in through the window, the sky outside was a deep, brilliant blue, but Quill felt a very different kind of blue indeed. Where the fuck were they? He’d been awake for four hours; nobody had called, nobody had visited, nobody had checked in. It’s like they’d all forgotten about him.

The unfairness of it rankled. He was only in the bloody hospital because he’d gone to protect those idiots in the first place. And after everything he did to get them through Dark London, you’d think he would at least have been worth a phone call.

What he tried to avoid thinking about was: perhaps they hadn’t called because they couldn’t. He’d given the nurses the number for Portland Row, but it had been disconnected. They’d left two messages for Barnes, but declined to leave a third, instead telling him to ‘Calm down and get some rest’ – a task that felt impossible when the last thing he remembered, as the drugs hit and the doors shut, was the sound of Lockwood losing his mind over Lucy being missing.

Quill had no doubt he’d have left to find her. Holly would have stayed with George, surely, but Lockwood would have gone to get her. Did he ever find her? If he’d had to go back inside, did they make it back out? Quill had no idea.

The paper spread over his lap was crumpled from the way he’d obsessively combed through every word, looking for clues, hoping they weren’t among the unnamed dead. But there’d been no mention of any of them.

The front page was filled with an image of black soot and towering flames against a pre-dawn sky, all angry reds and dirty blacks against the soft indigo emblazoned with the words FITTES FALLS. It was horribly reminiscent of the first time he’d seen Lockwood in the paper – this Lockwood, the besuited young man who wielded smiles as weapons and not the dirt-covered, filthy-mouthed urchin he had been before. That time Lockwood and his merry band had burnt down a house and this time it had been a 14-storey corporate building, so at least he’d moved up in the world. Last time, though, Quill had read the article and felt smug; this time, Quill read the article and felt fear. Had they made it out alive?

Well, Marissa was dead, at least. The papers had been clear on that. All Quill could do, he thought grimly, was hang on to the hope that no news was good news. And, in the meantime, ask for something to help him sleep.

⚔︎

The next time Quill woke up it was dark, the room lit only by the electronic glow of the machinery. His mind was hazy and he struggled towards consciousness slowly, his eyelids fighting to stay closed and pull him back under, the drugs they’d given him still promising a sleep that felt oh-so-tempting. But something had woken him up, some odd, out-of-place feeling, and Quill had been an agent far too long to ignore somethings.

So he fought – fought the residual drugs in his system, fought the lingering cold from the Other Side, fought through the exhaustion and pain and opened his eyes to find the ghost of Anthony Lockwood standing at his bedside.

The apparition was pale in the dim light, the body gaunt. It wore an ill-fitting t-shirt, tracksuit bottoms and a hoodie, all of which were crumpled in a way that felt offensively poetic on his Wraith. Its face was swollen, scabbed and bruised, and, though it stood very close, its weary gaze was fixed somewhere to the side. It wasn’t moving. 

This is it, thought Quill. Here’s my answer. Here’s the end.

And then, a breath later: Hang on, I lost my goggles last night.

‘Motherfucker—’ lashing out blindly, Quill flailed and sent the paper flying. ‘Lockwood! Are you trying to give me a heart attack?!’

Pain lanced through him at the sudden movement and he doubled over, annoyed. He’d meant to sound fierce. Furious. But the words had come out on a muddled croak and now Lockwood was all care and concern, parking himself on the bed as he fussed over him, and Quill wanted to fucking murder him.

‘Here, should I—’

‘Where the hell have you been?!’ he gasped out, doing his best to push him away even as Lockwood reached behind him to fluff his pillows. ‘It’s three in the morning!’

‘Look, lie back first, okay Quill? You’re—’

‘I’m not a bloody invalid!’ Quill snapped hoarsely, even as he leaned back on the pillows which were, much to his chagrin, now much more comfortable.

Lockwood, to his credit, didn’t answer; instead, he offered a cup of water that Quill angrily accepted.

‘You—’ he began, then stopped to take a sip.‘You – ugh. You’re alive, then.’

Lockwood’s expression was half-hidden in the dark. ‘Don’t sound too happy about it.’

‘And the others?’ He thought he already knew the answer from Lockwood’s demeanour alone – God, he hoped he already knew the answer – but he needed to hear it.

‘All okay,’ Lockwood said, and those two words sent the relief crashing over Quill like a torrent of water, sloughing off the vestiges of his terrified anxiety and leaving him shiny and vulnerable and new. He wasn’t one for waterworks but fuck was he ever glad for the darkness of the room.

Tilting his head back, Quill closed his eyes and breathed – in through his nose, out through his mouth, just like he’d taught hundreds of trainees to do. In, out, it brings you back around. In, out.

When he spoke a few moments later, his voice was pleasingly steady. ‘You found her, then? Lucy?’

‘Yeah. Yeah, I found her. She’s right next door, actually.’ Now it was Lockwood’s turn to exhale deeply, his shoulders sagging with exhaustion.

‘Next…?’ Quill blinked. ‘Wait, what do you mean she’s right next door? Lucy’s in the hospital?!’

‘Yeah,’ Lockwood answered, shifting to retrieve the newspaper from the floor, the crunch of the thin paper loud in the hushed night. ‘She collapsed this afternoon, just as we were trying to clear out a place to sleep back home.’ Paper crunched and tore as he spoke, worrying it in his hands. ‘Turns out she was bleeding internally. Stab wound in her side, from the fight in the penthouse.’

So there had been a confrontation, then. He didn’t want to hear the details now, though, not at three a.m. when he’d just woken up, and certainly not when Lockwood was mangling the newspaper like a Phantasm wearing a bow tie. He couldn’t deal with whatever was causing that. He needed to keep this light.

‘I didn’t get myself stabbed just so that Lucy could copy me, you know,’ Quill said at length, aiming for haughty.

Lockwood snorted, but the tearing sounds stopped. ‘You’ll have to tell her off for imitating your style when she wakes up, then.’

‘She’s all right, though?’

‘Mostly,’ Lockwood said, shrugging again. ‘She needed surgery but it was straightforward, and she was awake for a little bit before falling asleep again. She’s resting now.’

‘And the others…?’

‘Got sent home while she was still under. George is at Holly’s for the night; I called earlier, and they said they’d tried to visit you but you were asleep. I’m sorry, I meant to pop in, but I fell asleep when Lucy did so I didn’t get round to checking on you until I woke up five minutes ago.’ His voice was tired, but Quill could hear the smirk as he said: ‘Luckily I managed to persuade the nurses into letting me stay, because I’m quite sure visiting hours are over for the day.’

Quill wisely held his tongue. Outright refused to leave and generally made himself a pain in the neck was more likely than any other type of persuasion, if his behaviour when George had been admitted was any indicator.

‘So that’s it? Lucy and I are in hospital, the rest of you are okay?’

‘Yeah. I’ve got a couple of fractured ribs, but George and Holly escaped with mostly cuts and bruises.’

Had he been feeling stronger, Quill would have danced a fucking jig, reputation be damned. ‘So five out of five agents are alive, and all we’ve lost is some furniture, my goggles, and your coat?’

‘Yep,’ Lockwood said happily, popping the ‘p’ and turning to grin at him.

Sometimes I want sunglasses just to look at him, Lucy had once said. Quill had teased her mercilessly for it, of course, but in that moment, as Lockwood beamed at him in that half-lit room, he got it. Sometimes he exuded this energy that just dragged you out into the sunniest afternoon, even if it was despite your best intentions. George had called it The Lockwood Effect. 

Quill couldn’t help grinning back. Thank God the nurses weren’t due; they must have made a right pair, grinning at each other in the dark on a hospital bed like lunatics, but they definitely had something to smile about. Five out of five, baby.

‘We really did get out well.’

‘We did,’ Quill agreed. ‘I’m sorry about your coat, though.’

‘Don’t be,’ Lockwood answered firmly. ‘It went to a good cause.’

‘Still. I barely recognised you without it. Thought you were a Wraith at first.’

‘You thought I was… Bloody hell, Quill, do I look that bad?’

‘You look like shit warmed over,’ Quill confirmed. ‘And I can’t even see half of you in this light.’

Lockwood chuckled ruefully, turning his gaze to the window. The clock on the wall read three twenty-five in the morning so it was still a few hours to dawn, but the birds were already starting their song outside. Honestly, between the lateness of the hour and the magnitude of the things that had happened, Quill was almost at a loss for words. I’m glad we’re all alive felt too obvious, and Good job on the arson felt too casual. Instead, he followed Lockwood’s gaze and watched the sky slowly lighten from indigo to a cosmic blue.

To Quill’s (complete lack of) surprise, Lockwood broke the silence mere minutes later. ‘It was my father’s, actually.’

That actually was surprising. ‘What was?’

‘The coat,’ Lockwood clarified. ‘Wait – no. Don’t get the wrong idea; he never wore it or anything. It still had the tag on when I found it.’

‘But it was still your father’s.’

‘It was still my father’s,’ Lockwood agreed. ‘And I like to think I made it mine, too, over the years. But…’ he trailed off with a shrug, then turned to face him properly again, one hand gently gripping his shoulder. ‘You’re here, Quill, and that’s all that matters.’

His sincerity was all-encompassing, filling him with a strange, warm comfort – one that seemed to flow from Lockwood’s hand on his shoulder, from the ghosts of Lucy’s hand in his, of George’s fingers and their tight grip, of Holly’s hands on his chest. All of them, saying the same thing.

You’re here, Quill, and that’s all that matters. The words settled over him like a blanket.

[pipsipey17]

love and literature | chapter 2: way down we go.

professor!natasha romanoff x college student!reader

series masterlist | main masterlist

summary: dinner with your professor and a bit of unexpecting news.

contains: just some tension :>

previous chapter | next chapter

It’s a small world after all they said and apparently it is. But for you, it wasn’t a good thing because your sister is best friends with your most hated professor and it was certainly making you question what you did to the universe.

“Hi Y/n, it’s so good to see you outside of my class for once.” Natasha said in a happy tone almost as if it’s fake and it was making you roll your eyes in disgust but you stopped yourself from doing so.

You didn’t know what to say so you ended up with simply saying, “Likewise, professor Romanoff.” 

“Just call me Natasha, we’re not at school after all.” Natasha said with a smile.  

“I didn’t know that she’s your professor. I only knew that Nat was teaching at your university.” Maria said amused.

“Y/n still has Russian Literature which means that yes, she’s in  my class.” Natasha said.

“Guess there’s no need for further introduction then.” your sister said as she went back to the stove to stir the sauce that she was cooking. “Why don’t you put your stuff in your room first so you can help me prepare the table.” she continued. You nodded in response then rushed to your bedroom. 

A few minutes later, you went down after you changed into some shorts and an oversized shirt then you helped your sister set the table. You swear that you could feel Natasha’s eyes on you from time to time, as if she’s checking you out. 

“So, how’s Y/n in your class?” Maria asked Natasha as the three of you were eating. 

Your eyes widened, realizing that she can and will tell your sister about your ‘low’ grades in her class. You took a deep breath and prepared for the worst. 

“She’s passing, but her grades aren’t that high, pretty much average.” Natasha bluntly replied before she took another bite of the pasta. 

“What?” your sister said which made her look at you with slight fury on her face. 

You shrugged and said, “At least I’m passing.” You were not going to argue with Natasha more about your grade today, especially not in front of your sister who happens to be her best friend.

Maria shook her head and said, “I apologize, Russian Literature isn’t really her forte.” She then held Natasha’s hand that was on the table slightly squeezing it. 

Natasha waved her hand dismissively and said, “It’s alright, every student has their own strengths and weaknesses.” 

Your phone suddenly started ringing, you checked the caller ID and saw that it was Wanda. You thank whoever god is there that she decided to call you and save you from this awkward dinner. “Excuse me for a while, I have to take this,” You stood up from your seat and answered her call.

“Thank goodness you called, you just saved me from a hellhole.” you said to her as you walked out of the kitchen and into the living room area so you were out of earshot from your sister and Natasha. 

“Why? What happened?” Wanda asked.

“Remember when I told you that Maria’s best friend was going to visit? Well, guess who’s the best friend?”

“Oh God, don’t tell me it’s someone you slept with.” 

“No, it’s even worse-” you were then interrupted by Wanda, “What can be worse than…” she trailed off before saying, “Is it professor Romanoff?” she joked. 

You sighed heavily and replied, “It is her.” 

“Holy shit.” 

“Holy shit indeed.” You then remained silent for a few seconds until you said, “I should probably get going, my sister might be looking for me.” 

“Alright, call me back when you can and tell me everything and I mean every single detail.” you rolled your eyes playfully at Wanda’s statement and replied, “Yeah, I will. See you tomorrow Wands, love you.”

“Love you too Y/n! See ya!” Wanda lastly said before she ended the call.

After your chat with Wanda, you went back to the dining area to finish the rest of your pasta.

“Who was that?” Maria asked as you sat down. 

“It was Wanda, she just asked me about something.” you lied. 

Maria hummed, “I see, I’m surprised you aren’t dating her, she’s very pretty, I don’t know what you’re being picky about.” she teased. 

“Oh my God Maria, for the hundredth time, we’re just friends.” you said a bit annoyed.

“Is there some girl then?” 

“Are we seriously going to talk about this in front of your guest?” You chimed.

“Oh no it’s fine, I don’t actually mind.” Natasha suddenly said.

“See? Natasha doesn’t mind. So, is there someone?” Maria said as she wiggled her eyebrows at you. 

You slightly groaned by your sister’s teasing, “No, there’s no one. Just had a couple of flings here and there recently, but other than that, there’s no one.”

Your relationships were complicated, some of them were flings but most of them were just one night stands. If you would count the total of serious relationships you had it would only be two. You were a player that’s for sure, and your body count was ‘through the roof’ as Wanda would say, but you didn’t mind at all.

Dinner was now over and you bidded goodbye to your professor who you were going to see tomorrow. 

“There’s something I’ve been wanting to ask you.” Maria said as she placed the newly cleaned plates on the dry rack.

You suddenly felt nervous, you don’t know why but everytime your sister says that you feel very nervous, “What is it?” You asked as you sat on the bar stool.

“There’s a reason why I wanted you to meet Natasha today,” you see your sister face you making her lean onto the counter, “But, after learning that she’s your professor it meant that you’ve already met her. In a different light I suppose, she tends to act more intimidating when she’s teaching.”

More like annoying and unfair. 

“Natasha’s apartment is pretty far from the university, almost a 3 hour drive in fact,” she continued.

You already knew what she was going to say next, she took a deep sigh and asked, “Is it okay with you if she stays with us for the meantime until she finds an apartment nearby?” 

And there it was, the bomb had been dropped. 

“You could've just said that you’re dating her, it would’ve been easier,” you half-jokingly said as you crossed your arms.

“I’m not dating her Y/n, I’m being serious.”

“Why are you even asking me if it’s alright with me? I mean, this is your house after all.”

“Because you’re my sister, I care about your opinion on this matter. Especially because she’s your professor and I know how awkward living with your professor is,” your sister stated. 

You were honestly not liking that idea one bit, but you love your sister and you were also just living with her for free for goodness sake. So, much to your dismay you replied, “It’s alright with me Maria, really, she’s your best friend. I know you’re just helping her like a best friend would.” 

Your sister approached you then hugged you, “I love you little sis,” she cooed.

“I love you too big sis,” you replied back with a smile.

~~~

“She’s just going to live with you for a couple of months. What's the worst that could happen?” Wanda said then took a bite from her sandwich.

“Honestly, a lot. I can’t bring anyone home from school, that's one thing. Her telling my sister about my grades, which she already did last night by the way, and a whole lot more.” you replied.

Wanda checked her watch, “Speaking of which, it’s time for Russian Literature,” she said.

You huffed out in annoyance, “I am so not ready to see her after last night.” you said as you stood up from your seat and started walking a little bit slower than normal to professor Romanoff’s classroom.

It was a lot for you to take in, you just found out that your most hated professor is your sister’s best friend and she’s going to live with you until she finds an apartment which you really hope is sooner or later. You couldn’t even bear to see her during class let alone the idea of her living with you.

Once you were by the threshold, your eyes immediately met with the emerald ones of your future roommate. She was at her desk using her laptop, must be preparing for today’s lecture you thought. You stood still for a few seconds and you could honestly feel some weird tension going on between you two. Wanda suddenly cleared her throat behind you making you snap out of your trance.  

The lecture went on until the bell rang, but as you stood up, you suddenly heard your professor say, “Miss Hill, a word please.” You rolled your eyes mentally before you approached your professor.

“You go ahead, I’ll meet you at the library,” You said to Wanda and she nodded in response then left the room. 

Once the last student left, heavy and unsettling silence surrounded you both. You were standing in front of her desk while she was sitting down with her legs crossed. Her blouse had two or three buttons undone and you were trying your hardest not to stare. 

“I’m sure Maria has already told you about me moving into your home.” Natasha said as she leaned back onto her chair.

“Yeah, she has.” you simply replied but then asked, “How long have you known?” 

“Excuse me?”

“How long have you known that I was Maria’s sister?” you asked again. 

“I knew from the beginning, after our little encounter during the first day your face seemed familiar to me and I remembered that Maria showed me a photo of you before.” Natasha replied. 

“And you chose not to say anything?” 

“Because I thought Maria already told you about it,” Natasha countered. Natasha stood up and she towered a few inches above you making you feel a bit small and you were having a hard time making eye contact with her. 

When you broke contact she immediately used her index finger and thumb to grab your chin, “Look at me when I speak to you.” You could feel yourself melt when she said those words to you. “I’ll be moving in starting tomorrow, I’ll see you then.” She lastly said before letting go of your chin.

You immediately rushed out of the room feeling yourself heat up from the moment. 

You just wish that there wouldn’t be more of those when she moves in.

[wrencatte]

mini fic 10! Fallen Order - Pre Dathomir - Cal & Greez Greez decides Cal needs to learn how to cook. Cal POV - 1.1k ao3 minific link - chapter 9 (hearing)

Awake earlier than he rightly should be considering the bantha shit he dealt with yesterday, Cal shuffles out of the engine room still drowsy, hair sticking up to really show how not ready he is for the day. BD-1 nearly trips him on his wobbly way to the caf maker, the droid pattering over to Cere to tell her about something or other. Cal’s not really listening, focused solely on the near future that has sweet hot caf in his system. He’s thwarted not even halfway there by Greez shoving his hand in front of him. Cal screeches to a halt and stares at the object in the latero’s palm.

“That’s an egg,” Cal says slowly.

Uncooked he knows because it’s speckly blue now, but the shell turns grey-ish when boiled. Why Greez is showing him an uncooked qiqirn egg, he has no idea, and he doesn’t really care because it’s not caf. Please, sweet caffeine, you are needed.

Greez rolls his eyes. “Take it, longbean. You’re helping with breakfast.”

“I am?” Cal looks longingly at the caf maker. It’s mostly filled which means it’s fresh and hot and he doesn’t have to wait. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

“Too bad.”

Greez lets go of the egg without as much as a by your leave, causing Cal to scramble before it gets scrambled – and he’ll have to be the one who cleans it up. He cradles it carefully, still thoroughly confused as to how he ended up in this situation. He doesn’t remember ever hinting that he wanted to learn. And he knows for a fact Greez never brought up the idea before now.

Cere sips her own caf nonchalantly, focused on her datapad and whatever research she’s deep diving into this time with BD leaning over her arm to read along. Cal narrows his eyes. She looks pretty absorbed so that focus could be real, sure. Cal almost believes it. Almost. There’s a hum in the Force, one of amusement, that gives her up too quickly. The fact he notices it means she’s not trying very hard.

Case in point – Cere’s eyes flicker up to meet his, the corner of her mouth twitching upward.

“Cere should help too,” Cal decides. Her grin widens.

“Absolutely not.”

“I’m only allowed to touch the caf maker,” she says.

“I had to replace my counter tops because of her. She is in no way allowed to help in my galley. Forget it.”

Cere raises her mug in acknowledgement.

“Maybe she should learn?” Cal tries.

Greez sighs – unnecessarily loud in Cal’s opinion. “Get over here.”

He throws one last longing glance at the caf maker before shuffling over. “I know how to cook,” he mumbles as he tries to hand the egg over. At Greez’s doubting expression he slumps, face growing warm, and clumsily cracks the egg into a little bowl. “I can boil water. That’s the first step, right?”

“Sure, yeah. And I bet it served you well in the hellhole that is Bracca, plenty of fresh water that’s not gonna destroy your sensitive human stomach, right?” Cal grimaces. “I thought so. Boiling can only get you so far. You’re gonna learn how to cook and I’m gonna teach ya.”

The eggshell, including the bits he may or may not have accidentally added to the bowl, get traded for a knife and a cutting board of greens. Cal angles the knife, at least chopping is something he can do. Greez clears his throat. He angles it another way. Greez lightly knocks his wrist to bump it to the right spot. Ah, okay, he remembers seeing him cut them this way before. Cal gets to chopping. The echo on the knife prickles pleasantly under his palm. A savory sort of happiness that he feels on a lot of Greez’s cooking equipment. He lets it guide him into cutting Thavnaririan onions and Shaaloani peppers.

He doesn’t rely on them though. If Greez wants to teach him how to cook, he’ll let Greez teach him how to cook.

Cal can’t help but wonder. Without looking, he asks, “Why do I need to learn when I have you?”

They’ve only been a crew for a few months, sure. He’s still relearning how to be a person who trusts, who is a Jedi, who may actually be worth something. But Cal can’t imagine not heaving Greez’s food waiting for him when he wakes up, when he comes back after a hard day of feeling like he’s made zero progress on their quest for the holocron. He even gets snacks and a packed meal shoved into his arms when he’s heading out.

He shouldn’t be so used to it now. Shouldn’t be looking forward to the happy echoes every time he’s in the galley.

The ones that make every meal even better because love and care and joy are etched into every plate and bowl and utensil. It’s something he’s missed. The Temple’s kitchens were overflowing with the care the cooks put into their craft, the determined happiness of Initiates learning their ways around the workspace, the joy of the people who partook in the meals so lovingly made. It was hard to get that in a war. Even harder on Bracca.

A hand rests on his forearm and Cal realizes he stopped chopping; the vegetables are a little blurry. Greez carefully takes the knife from him and sets it to the side. He doesn’t press his hands to his eyes, he at least has that brain capacity, but he tucks his face into his elbow for a second, his exhale a little shuddery.

No one says anything while Cal takes a second to compose himself, and he is so very grateful for it. Crying over cooking. Wow. Not even cooking, just chopping vegetables and remembering.

When Cal’s breaths finally settle and he drops his arm, face flushed in embarrassment, Greez silently hands him the knife again. He finishes up the peppers, focusing a little more than he needs to.

“Cooking with someone makes the food taste better,” Greez says eventually when the first omelet is sizzling. Only Cal’s will have the Shaaloani peppers, both Cere and Greez find them too spicy. Cal hums, keeps his eyes on the browning edges. He should flip it. “It’s always good to know how to cook, but really, it’s for me. Cere is hopeless and I miss having a cooking partner.”

“I’m not against it,” Cal tells him softly. He flips the omelet. It’s a little browner than it should be. Overcooked, maybe, but it’s still edible, right? Greez doesn’t say anything about it. “It’d be nice to know how to make something other than heated grainmush.”

Greez shudders. “Gods, never mention that tasteless gruel in my galley. Is that what you ate on Bracca?”

“Among other worse things.”

“I’m going to teach you so many dishes you’ll forget that one was ever an option, got it?”

Cal smiles as Cere slides a cup of caf over now that the more finicky bits of prepping are completed. “Got it.”

[star-girl69]

Ultraviolence

Natalie Scatorccio x Fem!Reader

—-

a/n: i hope you all enjoy!!

warnings: animal death, kissing, gore, mentions of starvation, guns, tell me if i missed anything!!

Chapter Fifteen - No Return

Chapter Fifteen - No Return

—-

1996-

“We should be hunting right now.”

She smiles against your lips, pulling away for a second.

“I am hunting.”

“Hunting what?”

“You.”

She leans forward and takes your bottom lip in between her teeth, which makes both of you laugh, and she pulls back again.

“We’ll hunt later. Promise. Five more minutes?” her hand cups the back of your head, the other tracing a path down from your collarbone to your hip, which she squeezes.

“Nat,” you say, but she’s already on top of you, and your back hits the floor, her hand like a pillow against your head.

“Nightshade,” she whispers, and an even brighter smile crosses along your face at the nickname, and she smiles wider too, before you kiss her again.

—

When you’re leaving the plane, the gun around her shoulder, your hand in hers- you stop when you see movement from somewhere beyond the plane wreckage.

“Nat,” you whisper.

“Hm?”

“Get the gun,” you point to the movement, light brown, almost silvery white.

She follows your eyes and squeezes your hand.

—-

“Oh, my God. Meat. Fuck yeah!” the girls all cheer and shout as you cut through the edge of the forest, the heavy deer hung on a stick between you.

You set it down with a sigh, wiping your hands off and rubbing your sore shoulder.

“Woah. That thing is gnarly,” Van says, eyeing the deer’s bloody, shedding antlers.

“It’s like Freddy Krueger and Bambi had a baby,” Akilah says, scrunching her nose.

“I’m not eating that,” Javi groans.

“Guys, relax.” Coach hobbles over. “Deer shed their antlers every season. This is normal. Shauna, do the honors?”

She nods and steps forward, leaning in front of the deer and taking out the knife.

She cuts open the belly of the deer, while the rest of you stand back and watch- Natalie’s pinky finger finding yours.

Her hand falls when Shauna pulls back the skin, and you’re met with a squirming sound, and the stench of rotten, maggot filled organs. Someone gags and runs away. Shauna groans and tries to throw the maggots and blood off of her hands.

“That normal too, Coach?” Jackie sneers. She sighs, “Where the fuck did you even find this thing?”

You share a glance with Natalie.

She stares at the ground. “By the crash.”

“What the hell? Why would you go anywhere near that place?”

She looks between you and Natalie.

“Oh. Okay. I see.”

“Fuck off, Jackie,” Nat hisses.

“We cannot keep fucking doing this, you guys.” Taissa hisses. You think she’s scolding the three of you bickering- but she’s pacing back and forth, her hands on the side of her head. “What happens when winter gets here?! We fucking starve to death or freeze?”

Tears stream down her face, and she’s right. The forest is empty- all the animals have moved south.

“We can’t count on getting rescued anymore. All of us know that is not gonna happen. We have to save us,” she shouts. “That’s why I’m gonna go find help. I’m leaving in the morning. Come with me if you want to get out of this fucking hellhole.”

—-

You and Natalie have secluded yourselves in a corner of the room, far away enough that you can still be seen as close friends, brought together by the crash, but close enough so that you fall asleep with hands together and wake up with your hands together.

She squeezes your hand. The room is dark tonight- a random spot of warm in the temperature today, so no one’s bothered to fix up the fire.

“What do you think?”

“About Taissa? Her little thing?”

“Mhm.” She shuffles closer to you. “You think it’s stupid, right? Like, I’m all for getting out of here, but I just don’t- I don’t know.”

You take a deep breath.

“I want to get out of here, Nat.”

“I know,” she mutters, kissing your hand. “I wanna too.”

“I mean I… I wanna get out of here now.” Her hand falls from yours.

“What?”

“Someone has to go with her, Nat, and I really fucking hate this place-” she sits up, you follow her.

“Are you serious?”

She looks around the room, but no one stirs from her outburst. Her voice falls back to a whisper.

“It’s fucking dangerous, Y/N. You remember the hike- the fucking bear we saw? There’s wolves out there, and God knows what else. You- you can’t just go, you can’t just-”

“I can’t?” you ask, feeling a little hurt. You know if Travis had something like that, she would be all over him, lecturing about the monopoly of men over women- and yet she gets to say what you can and can’t do?

“No, I- that’s not what I meant, Y/N, I meant that I- I don’t want you to go.”

“Oh,” you mutter, feeling a bit stupid.

“You can do whatever you want, and I know that this makes me a totally selfish bitch but, I want you to stay here. With me. I want you to be safe and here.”

“Nat-”

She places a soft kiss on your lips, barely a second long. She pulls back just enough so that when she speaks, her lips brush yours.

“Think about it, nightshade.”

—-

“Tai, everyone thinks this is a bad idea.”

This impromptu meeting was held by Tai, her signature bandana wrapped around her head. You still held Natalie’s hand all night, and you still sit next to her now, if only because you don’t know where else to go.

“Well, we have to do something,” she responds to Van. “We’re starving. There’s nothing to hunt.”

“The animals might be migrating,” Misty supplies.

“It’s probably why the only game we’ve seen for weeks was the one sick deer. And it’s just gonna keep getting colder. And not ‘I better put on a coat’ cold, we’re talking ‘dying feels like falling asleep’ cold.”

“What do you think, Lottie?” Laura Lee asks.

“I don’t know,” she says when everyone looks at her.

“Look, anyone who wants to come is welcome, but I’m going.”

“You’re gonna want to take stuff with you, right? Food and supplies? That’s not up to you.”

“Well, you can’t just send her out there with nothing,” Shauna retorts to Akilah.

“This is insane. We don’t know where we are. Just that we’re surrounded by big-ass mountains. What are you now? Edmund fucking Hillary?”

“Who?” Mari asks, but Van only scoffs.

“Like I said, we’re not on an island. If we go south, we’ve got to run into something eventually. A road, a town, anything.”

Nat shakes her head from beside you. “No. You can’t take the gun. I’m all for what you’re trying to do, Tai, I am, but the gun has to stay.”

“Okay. Fine. I could bring some of the stuff we don’t use every day. One of the axes, the compass…”

“There’s a fire gun in the dead guy’s plane,” Jackie says, fidgeting with her necklace.

“Do not tell me that you of all people, Jackie, are on board with this.” Van’s words are shaky with anger.

Jackie shrugs. “What she’s saying makes sense. I mean, if she’s willing to go, then…”

“What if you’re wrong? What if there’s just nothing?”

Everyone stares at Laura Lee.

“I don’t know,” Tai says.

“You do know.”

“Yeah,” Tai responds to Lottie. “If I’m wrong, I’ll die out there.”

You stare at the ground.

“I’m leaving in an hour.”

—-

“Y/N.”

You jump. “Oh, Jesus Christ, Natalie,” you mutter, so surprised you stop cutting the vegetables Mari had asked you to cut for the stew tonight.

She sits next to you.

You can’t help but smile. “You’re like haunting me, or some shit.”

She smiles too.

“You want me, though,” she says, a bit smug, her hand resting on your knee. You’re alone in the cabin, everyone else has left. She leans forward. “I really don’t want to be a bitch. And I really don’t want you to go.”

“I know.”

You look in her eyes, and even though you’re at a crossroads right now, she smiles and stares right back at you, looking through the good and the bad until she’s just looking at you.

And you realize that even though she doesn’t want to let you go, and she’ll try to convince you like hell not to, if you really wanted it- she would accept it. It would take her a while, but she would.

“I’m not gonna go,” you whisper.

She’s silent for a moment.

“Is it bad that I’m really happy right now?”

“Shut up,” you mumble, turning back to the cutting board in front of you as she kisses your cheek.

—-

The send-off isn’t much, but it’s a goodbye. And if something happens out there- at least you have a moment to look back to.

“Wait!” Misty shouts just as you pull away from hugging Taissa. “Wait for me! I’m coming.”

She runs forward.

“Ben, uh… Coach, um…” he looks around awkwardly. “Please don’t try to talk me out of this, okay? I’ve given it a lot of thought, and I just… I feel like my team really needs me right now.”

“Oh,” he says. “Wow. Well, that’s, uh… You know what? That’s really brave, Misty. I’ll do the best I can without you.”

She smiles at him the same way you smile at Nat, and you can’t help but feel a little sad. Misty deserves someone who can love her back.

“I’ll come back for you,” she whispers. “I promise.”

He nods, and she barrels herself into his chest. He stands there, his arms on his crutches.

Natalie looks at you, a laugh about to spill out of her, and you roll your eyes and look away.

Finally, the girls all start the march off into the wilderness.

You wonder if they’ll return with good news or bad news. You wonder if they’ll return at all.

—-

taglist:

@sweetdayme4427 @dreaming-for-an-escape @peachydokii @happysparklingshadows @zhivaxo @maraudeerrs

everything taglist:

@emilynissangtr

[emrickzhomepalace]

“fix the attitude.” - d.m

draco malfoy x reader

slytherin house

female reader

platonic(?)

angst to fluff

warnings: angst, swear words, shitty parents, degrading, draco takes his anger out on you juust a bit but it’s only briefly

words: about 1.1k

the intense and painful weeps and sobs coming from the slytherin male’s dormitory went unheard as all slytherins and students alike were at a quidditch match that would determine finals.

considering that, he felt awfully alone, no crab or goyle or even blaise to calm him even slightly, even though he knew deep down that he would deny them any chance of getting too close to him.

draco couldn’t bear the thought of everything that he had to endure at the time. wishing it all to be over within the blink of the eye or a snap of two fingers.

knock knock knock…

draco freezes for a brief moment. whipping his tears of his cheeks and going to the door to open it, suppose he forgot to put a silencing spell on the room before absolutely destroying his vocal chords, god knows who heard and who heard what.

he opens the door to an awfully pale looking y/n y/l/n. messy bun, eye bags, red eyes, runny nose, all of it.

“the fuck are you doing here?” draco spat. “aren’t you sick?” draco asked again backing away from the girl in disgust.

“i am, yeah, sorry ‘bout that.” the shorter/taller girl says, rubbing her eyes.

“the fuck do you want?” draco uttered in fear, as he was quite sure he knew the answer.

“i heard you crying.” y/n stated simply. damnit. draco thought, pissed at himself.

“n-no! why on earth would i do that? and why on earth should you care either way? even if i was crying i wouldn’t go to a pathetic blood traitor like you, y/l/n.” draco defended, getting more in the girls face trying to scare her.

“i’m not an idiot. your eyes are red and your cheeks are glossy.” y/n stated, pointing out the obvious.

“SHUT. THE FUCK. UP!” draco said backing away quickly, pulling his wand from his bedside into his hand, pointing it at her.

he looked at the girl, breathing heavily, scowling at her. in contrast, she gave him a scared expression, looking him up and down like he was some kind of animal her eyes.

“draco, what the hell?” y/n uttered softly, looking at him, in pure confusion and to a degree - worry.

draco stood in the same position for a second or two longer before chucking his wand across the room.

“draco!-” y/n exclaimed before she felt the poor boy hug her, but he ran to her so fast he collapsed, to tired to get up he just hugged her at her knees, sobbing and wailing.

“i-i.. can’t anymore, y/l/n!” draco said, sniffling, biting his lip slightly to hold in his sobs.

y/n bent down to his level, as he pulled away from her knees.

“you can’t what?” she asked softly, moving some of the hair out of his face, to better see it.

“i-i can’t..! j-just.. sit a-around and be like this..” draco looked up at her, his expression full of pleads to save him from this hellhole.

“be like what, draco?” y/n asked, scooting closer to the blonde haired teen, trying to get more info as she was still so confused.

“a disappointment to my parents!” he yelled.

“what made you think you were a disappointment..?” the y/h/c y/l/n asked the grey-eyed man.

“because of this…” draco swiftly pulled out a folded up letter out of his pocket, and y/n began to read.

Draco,

Words cannot describe how I am feeling right now, to think our Draco is acting as such is quite frankly, humiliating.

Son, you’re supposed to moving up the ranks as you grow, not falling on your face like some pathetic pig.

Our family name can and most likely will get extremely damaged by this incident, — and as a reminder that is your fault, and if you let it slide again you will be paying for it in all possible ways.

Writing to you was quite honestly a waste of my time, you should know what this is about and how your mother and I feel. Never forget this, and if you do and make similar mistakes, mark my words son, you won’t live another day without thinking about how much of a failure you’ll be.

Make me proud son,

Your father

“oh draco, i am so sorry.” y/n said, putting a heart to her chest. wanting to hug him, but not wanting to pass on her cold.

y/n notices a crumpled up piece of paper in draco’s other pocket, the paper looks similar to Mr. Malfoy’s letter.

“what’s that?” y/n asked, pointing to it.

draco sighs. “it’s not important..”

“yes it is.”

“no it isn’t, y/l/n.”

“can i read it anyway?”

“fine.”

draco pulls out the crumpled paper, unraveling it slowly, making sure not to rip it. before handing it to the y/h/c girl.

My dear boy,

You and I both know how your father feels about the situation involving the ‘Harry’ boy. Although I must agree the entirety of the situation including the boy is not only damaging to our families name — which is one of my more minor concerns, but it was also so incredibly immature and hurtful.

However, you must know my side of it, as my side of it is different from your fathers. Of course, I don’t and never will agree with how both of you boys handled it. But, what I do understand that everyone makes reckless mistakes. Even if you didn’t make the best choices, you are still my son, and since your my son it’s my job to teach you what mistakes to not make.

So take this as a lesson, I too will be just as mad as your father if something along the lines of this pops up. But you will always be my little boy, the boy I will forever cherish, so not one mistake can make me not love you.

Take it easy angel,

Mummy ♡

“awww!! she signs her letters to you ‘mummy’?” y/n squealed.

“shut up!” draco laughed, shoving her lightly.

the two send out a short chorus of laughs before they die down.

“but still, your mum makes a good point, why listen to your father at all when your mums clearly smarter?” y/n asked, confused.

“mum’s not as powerful as dad, he always gets the number 1 say.”

y/n let’s out a small “oh” and nods slightly.

“did i fix the attitude?” y/n questioned.

“i did not have an attitude!” draco says laughing as he smacks her shoulder softly.

“answer!”

“yes! my god!”

[us-the-voices-and-more-voices-2]

social media’s in a nutshell, but the people who actually use them.

Twitter: So did I you know your an awful person?

also twitter: Racism, racism, racism, sexism, your best friend talking about a dog they saw, sexism, sexism, homophobia, homophobia, homophobia, transphobia, NSFW art from a mutual, transphobia, transphobia, and then the worst take in the history of worst takes by some 13 year old or maybe it was actually 30 something you can’t tell.

YouTube: “why YouTube has become a capitalist hellhole for anyone who dares speak about anything not consumer friendly: A video essay” 4 hours and 50 minutes long, 40,895 views.

also YouTube: “me and my friend are mermaids btw here’s how to do the mermaid spell! Easy in 1 step!” 26 minutes long.

also also YouTube: “I COMMITED TAX FRAUD AND TRIED TO OUTRUN THE AUTHORITIES CHALLENGE 24 HOUR CHALLENGE PART 1 OF 279” 10 minutes long and has almost a billion views.

also also also YouTube: “beheading” 13 minutes long, with 1,600 views.

ALSO ALSO ALSO ALSO YouTube: “HUGGY WUGGY TOILET NAKED VORE?” 20 minutes long, 8 million views.

4chan: be me> sexless loser> finds amazing wonderful woman who loves me for me> she’s fat> keep her until someone else comes> me and her do exercise and eat better> she becomes 100/10> gets married> has kids> love of my life>

also 4chan: ROBOTS, /B/ WE MUST UNITE THIS FUCKER BLENDERED A CAT WE MUST KILL HIM>

THAT (insert string of slurs) WILL GET WHAT’S COMING TO HIM>

FOUND HIS ADDRESS AT 404 CATBLENDER MAN STREET>

AUTHORITIES CALLED I GOT THE RSPCA AT THE HOUSE LETS GO /B/ FUCK YEAH THIS IS A WIN FOR ALL THE ROBOTS LETS GO>

also also 4chan: *the most graphic picture you have ever seen that haunts your soul and your life you will never be the same* hey /b/ look what I found>

also also also 4chan: guys, *insert the most out of pocket slur filled green post you hav ever seen* and that’s why I think (insert minority) are degenerates>

tiktok: *video of hatsune miku dancing with the caption* it’s not okay to encourage ED$ instead be kind and respectful and not be f@tphobic and @blei$t

also TikTok: *a video plays before quickly cutting out replaced with a new one* YOU ARE MAKING PEOPLE UNALIVE THEMSELVES WITH THIS TIKTOK GET HELP TRANS PEOPLE AREN’T GŘOÖMËRS AND PDFILES YOU ARE AWFUL!

also also TikTok: *a video plays of a montage of red and black text* you never saw me as real, you never saw me. I’m going to k1ll myself soon, life is too hard my parents have taken away my ps5 and my phones I am making this on my friends phone. Good bye cruel world.

also also also TikTok: *dangerous things happen in quick succession* “so that’s how you do a deep clean of your home!” comments : girly😭 NO you can’t use 🔥 on wooden floorboards 😰

comments: 💀💀💀 bro’s using chemical weapons to clean her sink💀💀💀

Comments: BLEACH IN YOUR FISHTANK? GIRL ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL YOUR BF’S DISCUS😬

comments: okay you did so many things wrong here and genuinely I’m surprised your are still alive-1

Cleangirly: no it was pretty safe idk what you mean🤷‍♀️

Comments:WHAT DO YOU MEAN SAFE? YOU SET A FIRE TO CLEAN THE FLOORBOARDS?-2

Also also also ALSO TikTok: *a video explaining why if you hate the color blue your a narcissist* yeah anyone who hates blue is a big red flag girlies

Tumblr: “guys penis” 1 million notes

also tumblr: *a long post explaining the intricacies of sexuality, sexism, the queer identity, toxic masculinity, and how colonialism and racism plays into it.* so yeah long post whoops.

reblog: *the most loaded toxic reblog you have ever seen* woman should all be killed.

reblog: *starts out making some form of sense then devolves* ALL MEN ARE RAPISTS AND SHOULD BE PUT TO DEATH NOW

reblog: *a story relating heavily to the post, which makes the original post better by its addition* so yeah some other re blogs are missing the point but you really put my experience into words thank you <3

reblog: *a picture of the tags filled with the weirdest take you have ever seen* Uhh who are you and can you leave tumblr? Thanks?

also also tumblr: gifly the gif, share gifly the gif because look at him *mindbogglingly fast images flash*

Quora: “why is the sky blue?”

answer 1: because god made it that way in his infinite wisdom

answer 2: because *long winded but concise explanation on how it works* I have a doctorate in this subject.

awnser 3: Long story short, it’s not blue it’s the ozone or something.

Facebook: “meemaw want to add you as a friend” *presses yes, anyone you have ever known tangentially appears in the Facebook friends page*

Also Facebook: “Gerald is my husband who I love”

Comments: that’s nice Geraldine, happy anniversary

Comments: *long winded conspiracy theory* that’s why the illegals want to rule the world and destroy us all

also also also Facebook: *random 5minute crafts video* TOP TEN LIFE HACKS FOR COOKING!

comments: oh what an amazing video! -Geraldine

comments: YOU CAN MAKE THE POPPED CORN WITH A COKA COLA CAN?

comments: I am showing this to my dear wife Geraldine. -Gerald

omegle: *video starts live-streaming and you see an older man’s cock* “…” “…” “you 13?” “…” *ends chat*

also Omegle: *you and a guy talk for ages* that was awesome here’s my socials! See you soon friend!

reddit: “why the Reddit mods are power hungry” *it is a screenshot of a screenshot talking about mod abuse.* “REDDIT WANTS US SILENT WE MUST FIGHT!” *deleted post*

also Reddit: “top ten anime wifus in (PEDO BAIT SHOW) and why I’d fuck them”

also also Reddit: “how do you fix a bolted screw valve on a pressure cooker…”

Vine: *5 seconds of comedy*

[baltimorebullets]

🗳️🔵✅

so one of the brain-eating worms that comes with growing up in a rural conservative hellhole is just like this fundamental hopelessness. like under every bit of hope is a voice hissing that this is all some pc bullshit that isn't going to do anyone any good anyway. and like the real problem there is just like. yeah. yeah.

i'm thinking about good bones by maggie smith which is kind of a hard read, or a bitter read, for someone whose realtor sold them a real shithole, who learned how low that estimate is early, "a child broken, bagged, sunk in a lake," metaphor, metaphor, et cetera. "This place could be beautiful, right? You could make this place beautiful." i mean. sure. you must think i'm really fucking stupid but sure.

it's like when i was being aggressively therapized and learned helplessness would come up fifty different ways because it's always fun discovering how many ways society can circle back on the idea of it being all your fault, actually, even fifty barriers deep when it feels like it might just be actual helplessness, actually. fuck you and fuck what you're trying to sell me.

... but then, also, it's real, that the only way for things to be better at all is to keep holding onto that fraction of an inch better. and i hate fighting for it and i hate that i've spent most of my life in places and situations where none of it matters at all and i hate that i still have this instinct that i have to beg and i hate just how fucking clear the gap between the lesser of two evils is to anyone who gives an actual shit to spend five seconds looking at policies/causes/effects and i hate that it's still a net evil and i hate having to listen to leftier than thou pieces of shit who know that too and still think it's a good excuse . and i feel like shit that i don't do enough; that i cannot do enough—

pretty much everything i've read or watched with people who work in deradicalization ends with them just shrugging helplessly and saying the only solution is relationships. i hate that i keep leaving, giving up on people and places and things that i believe have the potential to make a difference. which is insane for me because i spent literally my entire life taking that shit on the chin in the hopes that someday, someday, i’d be trusted, allowed to move the arrow just a hair in the right direction, until it literally actually completely destroyed me and none of it mattered. i couldn't even look at my family in 2020; the ones who flipped their votes—and they did, that's something—didn't do it after looking at me and putting in any thought of what all this means to and about me and my life. because it's never been about that with them. because, to most of the people and places i’m from, i’m not one of them in any way that matters. and i couldn't let the sum of my life be losing that fight. not because i didn't fucking try.

anyway. the whole unfathomable depression and related detachment from reality thing did a solid job putting a cap on the election anxiety for awhile but woo baby. haha. lol.

cool sticker tho. excuse the mushy peas nails it is still halloween szn

[scoupsahoy]

the stitches and the devouring mouth

[ao3 link]

Tommy was the first person to call him Stevie like he was something pretty. Tommy only knows this because it slipped out, dangerous, a hot blush, something like a confession: “Stevie’s kinda girly, don’t you think?”

And Tommy, too nonchlant, too fucking young, too disconnected, not yet precise, looked at Stevie boy unafraid and said: “Why’s it girly? ‘Cause it’s cute?”

Loaded question. Unspoken: Does that make me cute?

But that was the first time he’d let it slip out. Knowing Steve Harrington was one steep drop. One foot over the edge and he dragged you down, down, deep into the molten core of the earth, too hot to breathe, too fast to care.

It didn’t help that Steve was always the good one. He existed outside of this town, belonged out there. Tommy was the same piece of shit his father was, and his grandfather before him, and greats and greats. Tommy Hagan came from a long line of bastards who got drunk on making people stay and making them worse. He was going to live in this miserable town until he died miserably, but Steve--

Steve was born into a miserable family in a miserable house and no one ever taught him how to give a shit about anything, but he did anyway. That’s the fucked up part about it. Steve didn’t know how to love, but he was built with so much of it that it glowed around him, poured off him in waves. The only person he could give it to was Tommy, not knowing that Tommy would hand it right back tenfold, too young to realize he was giving away the only thing he’d ever get from him.

They were little kids, and they dreamed about getting out of this town, but Tommy was going to fucking die there, and he’d run Steve out, kicking and screaming, strapped to the privilege he’d always been too lonely to notice he had.

Tommy always wanted to push him out like that. Always knew the day would come.

It almost did right before junior year, sweltering hot, sitting in their boxers and smoking weed next to the back gate of Steve’s house. Close enough to the woods that they could blame it on freak delinquents if his father came home. The grass was cool and the other grass was hot and his mind played sick little tricks on him for hours.

Tricks like:

Steve looked at Tommy like he was something special. Like he was good. Like he could leave one day too. Like maybe at some point, after graduation, after waving goodbye to this hellhole they call a town, they could–

He didn’t know. He’d never gotten that far. But it would be the two of them. And neither of them would be their fucking dads. And neither one of them would have to be lonely ever again.

Steve talked to Tommy like he was better than he actually was. Like his eyes were rose-tinted and for some reason he looked at Tommy, even though he was a piece of shit.

What’s a piece of shit that knows it and doesn’t do anything to be better? Would it be worse not to know? Was it worse that he wanted to be worse?

Steve stared at Tommy for a long time, or maybe just for a second, because it turns out being high made those kinds of distinctions hard, and Tommy said “Stevie,” again, like he could have said more if he tried. Like his mouth was ready to wrap around other words before he knew what they were going to be.

He was interrupted before they came out, though, by the grace of God, by Steve’s blush and his chuckle, voice deeper than Tommy’s, more masculine, nicer. “You always call me that.”

“Yeah, I do,” Tommy watched Steve’s mouth.

“Why?”

“Don’t you think it’s cute?”

“I guess–”

“It suits you,” Tommy said. Tame.

And Steve, bless him, gave him an out. He smiled again, his winningest one, and asked: “so you think I’m cute?”

Like it was a joke. Like it was funny.

Tommy laughed, reached out, straight for his cheek, to pinch it like a baby, and Steve reached back, pulled them together, to kiss him like a girl.

Except they were both in their boxers, sweltering hot, high out of their minds, and Tommy wasn’t a girl. And Tommy closed his eyes and tried to find Carol in front of him, that bitch from economics that he flirted with because it pissed Steve off, because it made him laugh, because. Something.

But Steve wasn’t a girl, either. He kissed the absolute breath from him exactly like a boy would. And their sweaty legs slid against each other and the joint was put out by the dew and the sweat on the grass and Tommy pulled back to breathe and Steve pulled back whole, wild and scared, a wounded deer. Doe eyes and all.

They were both high, and Tommy was dizzy with everything, and Tommy was a dick, just as a person, and Steve was better than him. He had more control than he did. Tommy didn’t know what he would have done next.

But he thought, maybe, despite his dad and his grandfather and all of their greats, that he would be at least something different. Break the fucking cycle.

Steve blinked, eyes flickered with something Tommy’s never cared enough to read. “You should probably go home,” he said, voice level. “First day tomorrow. We should sleep this off.”

Tommy’s never been the brightest. He thought Steve meant the high.

Because the next day, Steve picked him up for school, and they didn’t talk about it but Tommy didn’t know what he’d say if he did. He’s never been the brightest, but he’s seen the headlines. He’s heard his mom call things like this perverted.

Didn’t keep something inside him from shattering when Steve ditched him for a date with Amy Prince. When Steve made out with Laurie Fisher in Mrs. Douglas’ during lunch. When Steve pressed Becky Jefferson against his locker and stuck his tongue down her throat. Hope, maybe, that’s what shattered.

And Tommy wasn’t a good person. He asked Carol out for real this time, and she said yes because they’re the exact kind of losers at the top of the food chain to get married to each other and live in the same shitty town they were born in, and he did it because he hoped it would piss Steve off.

Turns out, Carol wasn’t really a bitch. Not more than Tommy was. That doesn’t mean much, though. She gave head like a champ and she let Tommy cover her mouth when they fucked so he could tune her out.

It was kind of funny, kissing her, because it was the exact opposite of kissing Steve: back then, he was desperate to find her when he closed his eyes. Now, though, Steve comes to him without even trying. Kind of funny how that happened. Kind of sick.

But that wasn’t when the push happened. It wasn’t until Nancy Wheeler.

Until Steve fucked her two doors down, and if Tommy really listened he could pretend Carol and Nancy weren’t there at all. Like it was back when they were freshmen jacking off quietly in sleepovers and pretending they couldn’t hear.

It wasn’t until Steve fell head over heels for her.

Until Steve blinked and Tommy saw it. The revelation he was waiting for the whole time: he’s better than this. Better than Tommy. This girl could make him happy, if she wanted him to. It would be up to her. And he would want it that way. And Tommy was never going to be that.

Because Tommy is a prick. He’s mean-spirited. He’s exactly like his dad. He’s built to take a girl and have her until she’s too apathetic to bother with divorce. Steve realized he was a piece of shit and Tommy made the wrong decision on purpose: he was going to push Steve out of there, and he was going to let himself be miserable forever, and he would drag Carol through it, because maybe love is mutually assured destruction and it was never going to be playing house with the King of Hawkins. He wouldn’t even know how.

Steve wanted something special. Something real. Something Tommy could never give him. Something he wanted from Nancy, who didn’t even fucking want it. Something he only realized he was missing when he met her.

The push came when Steve was broken and bloodied up, right when Tommy thought maybe they’d go back to normal, maybe Steve really was as bad as him. Like he was already crawling back, rocks in his hands, blood in his mouth. Tommy thought maybe Steve would let him patch it up, lick his wounds. He could give Steve what Nancy couldn’t. Or, at least, he could give what Nancy did. He’d fuck it up with Carol. He didn’t care.

When Steve snapped and Tommy had two hands on him, that was the decision. Push or pull.

Steve looked down at his mouth. Once. Twice.

Another look in his eye. Tommy never cared to learn what those meant. He let go. Steve turned. Tommy pushed.

“Here, let me get that for you, buddy.” Tommy pushed. Steve fell back. Tommy slammed the door. He pushed harder.

“That’s right,” he yelled after him, desperate and angry and vengeful, he pushed, “run away, Stevie boy!”

Ugly. Tommy destroyed that too. The first person to say it like it was something beautiful. The first person to say it like a curse. Tommy figured he’d take any of Steve’s firsts he could get. Clutch his hands around those firsts until they suffocated there, ruin Steve for everyone else. He would build him up and he would break him. Tommy would get worse and he’d love it. He would tear himself in half and he’d swallow himself whole. He was going to fucking die here and there would be nothing left that Steve Harrington to turn back to. As if that were ever an option.

“Run away, just like you always do!”

Carol asked him later what the fuck he meant by that. He didn’t give her an answer.

Maybe he was pissed that Steve didn’t push back. That he wasn’t willing to be miserable forever in this miserable town. He wasn’t willing to die here, to rot like something terrible, rot like Tommy already has been rotting.

Maybe he should have started being a better person. He didn’t do that, either.

[robots-n-sweet-tea]

Same Fate, Same World Ch3: Home

I think this is gonna be the last chapter for this mini-series. Sorry if it feels rushed... If you'd like to see more of the bitlets, feel free to suggest ideas for them in my ask box!

Seven years. It’s been seven years since then. The bitlets absolutely hated every second that they were with their organic “families.” They were constantly moving around on these weird trips, that part they didn’t mind, with the downside being that they could not go out of anyone's sight. That part they minded a lot. Especially when it’s seven years of the same shit over and over and over. Countless attempts to run away and sneak out, only to be met with stricter and reinforced surveillance. Eventually, they learned to just…live with it, accepting their fate and the fact that no one was coming for them.

The only thing they had keeping them going at this point was each other.

In that seven-year timeframe, the bitlets had been enrolled into a human school, put on several medications (mainly Blueshift for her “aggressive nature”), and were given the life of two seemingly normal human lives. They despised it all. Not being able to talk about their “old” families, not being able to use the Cybertronian terminology for anything– it flat-out sucked. Primus, they weren’t even allowed to call each other Blueshift or Electronica anymore; it was just Arizona and Otto now.

“You two have a good day at school! We’ll see you when you get home.”

“Whatever, [REDACTED],” Blueshift huffed.

“Love you too!” And with that, they watched the car drive out of the school’s parking lot. Blueshift and Electronica glanced at each other, each with a small sigh.

“Another day in purgatory, Otto?”

“Another day in purgatory,” it nodded as they started to walk together towards the school. “What do you suppose we’ll be learning about today?”

“Dunno, don’t really care at this point. Like, I love the learning part, but I hate the teachers and everyone else in this hellhole. I’m just glad we’re in most of the same classes.”

“Exactly! Let’s just get this over with, then we can go home and play whatever video games we have.” And that’s exactly what they did. Well, the school part anyway. They wouldn’t be going home this particular day. Once school let out for the day, the two teens leaned against the school wall waiting for their ride. They watched everyone else with a blank expression for a while before turning and making small talk with each other. Just like always. Although…today was different, somehow. They could feel it. And, at that exact moment, two particular vehicles drove by the school; one seemed to be a police car, while the other…a Porsche? In this area? That’s a bit unusual. These vehicles didn’t go unnoticed by the bitlets.

“Otto, you see what I’m seeing?”

“Mhm, yeah. That cop car doesn’t look like the ones from around this area, and I know for a fact that nobody has a Porsche around these parts.”

“Maybe they’re from out of state,” she shrugged.

“...No, wait.” Electronica squinted a bit at the vehicles before quickly taking off, following the cars without waiting for its friend.

“Otto! Hey, wait up!” Blueshift shouted, following after it. “What’s wrong?!”

“I know only one being with a Porsche.” She gave it a weird look. “It’s…It’s Jazz, my sire. And the cop car must be Prowl!”

“What? No way! I thought they gave up their search years ago.”

“Well, there’s only one way to find out.” Electronica sped up, now going into a full sprint as it ran ahead of the two vehicles with Blueshift catching up to it. They crossed the street, stopping only in the middle of it; this caused the vehicles to stop abruptly. There was no honking, no angry drivers yelling at them to move, nothing. That was the first sign. “Stay here, and watch this.” It approached the Porsche, took a deep breath, and knocked on the hood. One two…pause…three four five. It took a second, but the doors opened as fast as they possibly could. “Blueshift, get in NOW!”

The bitlets wasted no time hopping in, and Jazz and Prowl wasted no time in speeding off as fast as they possibly could in a school zone. Electronica was trying so hard to stay calm, tears pooling in its eyes already.

“Oh thank Primus!” it hiccuped, wiping the tears away with a smile. “Please tell me it’s really you guys…”

“You know it! Electronica, you have no idea how much everyone missed you. Where on Cybertron were you?! And who’s your friend?” Jazz spoke; there was so much happiness in his voice– was this really happening?

“This is Blueshift– her sire is Soundwave, and she got in the same boat as me.”

“Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Blueshift! Now, what boat are you talking about?”

“We got taken by the fragging Human Rehabilitation Program, or HRP for short. They thought we were being kept as pets by you guys.”

“And they forced us to be with these stupid organic families to “reintroduce us to human society” according to them. Primus, it’s been a whole nightmare,” its friend added.

“The HRP? Oh frag no, we know about them all too well. Normally they’re all about rescuing humans who have been in underground scrap, not those who have been adopted or befriended by mechs,” Prowl interjected with an extremely pissed-off growl in his voice. “I’ll get in contact with Soundwave as soon as we get to a safe point, away from the town. You two are in good servos again, so just hang tight.” After that, things were quiet until they reached said safe point; this just happened to be somewhere in the woods. Less likely to be found here. Blueshift and Electronica were let out, and the two Cybertronians transformed.

Electronica was immediately picked up by its sire and pulled into a never-ending hug. It was clear to the others that seven years was too long.

Prowl looked to Blueshift, “Your sire’s on his– Never mind, he’s here now, actually.” That was…extremely quick, to say the least. They watched as Soundwave landed, transformed, and immediately went to pick up his bitlet.

“Sire!” she smiled.

“Oh, my bitlet, my precious bitlet– I missed you too much,” he whispered, holding her up to his mask as close as he possibly could. This is probably the one time that the two Autobots and bitlets have ever seen a Con this emotional. “Where– How…?”

“The HRP,” Prowl answered. “I’m sure you’ve heard of them.”

“...Unfortunately, I have. They had the audacity to take our bitlets, then?”

“Mhm. Kidnapped them, put them with organic families, and attempted to rehabilitate them into their own society by force.” Now Soundwave was pissed. “We managed to find not only your bitlet but also our own bitlet. Soundwave, meet Electronica.” Jazz held it up to Soundwave, both of them watching as it waved.

Soundwave nodded, “This is Blueshift. Are they friends?”

“We sure are! We’ve been friends for the past seven years,” Blueshift nodded. “We’ve kept each other company in these trying times.”

“Well, would you look at that! Our bitlets are friends, that’s amazing!” Jazz chuckled. “Wait, does this mean that we’re making friends with a ‘Con?”

“Well, we kinda want to remain friends if that’s okay with you?”

“...I’m sure we can arrange meetups,” Soundwave nodded again.

“Frag yeah!” the bitlets cheered

Meetups and hiding from the government? What a way to end this story.

[azurewishing]

Poseidon's Deal

Another vhenshun fic, this time about it, hyddryd and escaping.

---

Vhenshun can’t sleep today. The memory of finally seeing the sky loops in its head over and over again. That sliver of happiness, cruelly taken away. That sliver of hope, slipping out of its claws.

All it wants to do is take a nap, but it can’t. A caged bird unable to rest…

‘I want to spread my wings’, it thinks. ‘I wish I had some, so I can fly out of here.’

A bird without wings is no bird at all. So what is it, then? A set piece? A trinket?

What is it?

(What am I…)

“Seems like you’re having some trouble.”

A mysterious voice suddenly echoes around the room. An unfamiliar one, a sonorous one.

“Wha… who’s there?!” Vhenshun asked, taken by surprise.

But there is no one.

“Ah, you can’t see me, can ya? Uuu, I keep forgetting. Hold on…”

The physics of its room shifts. Something impossible is turning into a possible form the best they can. When they settle, they take on a form of… something vaguely aquatic. It’s hard to tell because of them glitching and fading in and out of reality. Most striking was their two bright purple eyes.

“How’s this? Can you see me now, Vhenshun?” The entity asked.

“I mean, I guess I can... Wait- how do you know my name?”

“I know everything about you and your friends. If I’m being honest, I sympathize with you all. Being trapped in a cage with no way out… I understand it all too well.”

“Do you now…?” The mech quad asked, half suspiciously.

“Of course I do!” The entity squeaked, leaning in forward. “I’ve been trapped in my own head for who knows how many millennia!!”

“Geez, calm down."

“Wha- hey! Uuu… fine.”

The entity pouted and stood in silence. After a while, the mech quad spoke up again.

“So, what are you, and why are you here? How did you get here, actually?”

“Oh, right! Where are my manners. I’m Hyddryd, the colossal of the water element and adventure. I was able to come here by suuuper secret methods, and I came in the first place to set you free!!”

Vhenshun, who usually was eager to hear chances at freedom, wasn’t excited. “Why does it matter? All that’ll happen is me getting sent back home…”

“Yes, that is a possibility,” the colossal said, putting their hand(?) to their chin(?). “But what if I tell you that I’ll protect you so you won’t be sent back?”

“And how will you do that?”

“Zarroë is concerned that your unstable soul will tear holes in reality. If that’s the case, then all I have to do is make you stable!”

Stability, huh… Is that the only reason why it’s kept here?

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“Gh- Stop reading my mind!!”

Hyddryd pouted again. “Uu, it’s hard not to though…

“A-Anyway, I can make you stable, but at a cost!”

“And what is this cost?” The mech quad asked, tilting its head.

“You see… I maaay have to rework your soul a bit in order to help you. After all, it’s what makes you unstable. All I need to do is patch it up, though your mannerisms may change. Are you alright with that?”

Vhenshun thought deeply. Its soul, huh…

What will happen if something bad happened during the process? Lots of things could happen. It could lose its memories, it could become even more unstable, it could die…

“Worried, are you?” Hyddryd noticed the concern on the mech quad’s face. “Don’t worry. I’ve patched up a soul many a time before! I have experience working with ethereals especially! So nothing’ll go wrong.”

The colossal took some steps forward and bent down, petting Vhenshun’s head.

“And besides… I know your desire runs deep. Are you seriously gonna let this chance slip by your claws?”

They whispered with a soft, caring voice. They care so much.

They care so much about Vhenshun, way more than its creator ever did.

They care. They care…

Desire. Dream. Wish.

‘I want to leave.’

“I’ll take your deal. I don’t care what happens to me in the process. I want to leave this hellhole of a workshop- I have to…!” Vhenshun declared, tearing up at the end.

Hyddryd knew it’ll go like this. Maybe they didn’t need to whisper after all, but it’s always a good idea to be cautious.

The colossal flashed a smile. “Hehe! Aaallrighty- oh! Want me to rework your friends too? They’d be sooo lonely without you! And as a bonus, I can make Whaill a follower of you~!”

“Yeah, do that. I want them to explore outside too.”

A deal has been made.

(I can’t believe it. I’m finally escaping!)

All the quad has to do is shake hands with Hyddryd.

(But why do I feel like I’m sinking in an ocean?)

It hesitates.

(Why do I feel scared…?)

“Don’t be scared now. This is a once in a lifetime deal, y’know~?” Hyddryd whispers yet again.

(I’m scared. I’m so scared. So why is my body…?)

They shake hands.

The room is flooded.

And Vhenshun is never seen again.

[xarrixii]

Chapter_19 : "Trust Fall" ━━━━━━━━━━━━━

CW: mental health previous chapter | beginning | masterlist

━━━━━━━━━━━━ ▼

The barely audible plop from his left was what finally drove his eyes from the online textbook. That was a lie, the library’s chairs are really creaky. It sounded like the person had practically fallen straight through the chair.

“Hey. Uh⸺You know, I wasn’t really planning on, hmm.” Raiden waved from the floor. The chair’s base frame was still together, but everything else had fallen right through.

“Are you okay?” Harlow stifled a laugh as he took out one of his earbuds. “The librarians didn’t warn you about the chairs?”

“They did. I just, y’know, ignored ‘em.”

“You’re alright, though?”

“I’m great down here. It’s been like—” Raiden started counting on their fingers, “—a month since I’ve seen you. I’ve checked the library a lot. Especially on Wednesdays in the afternoon, but never after seven. New fact: local librarians do not have a sense of privacy.”

Harlow blinked a few times and turned off the computer. “They must be excited someone my age is asking for me. Nevermind them. Uh, so this⸺I didn’t actually plan anything for if…”

“I didn’t either. You study like, once a month?”

His alarm bells shot off and he stood up a little faster than he would have liked. “No. No, um, I’ve been busy with, with other things. I usually, it’s usually more often.”

It takes a second, but then Raiden’s dimples pop out. “I know a really good arcade downtown.”

Harlow still saw the calculation lit in their eyes.

“Sounds like fun.” He smiled back anyway.

…

“You want help?”

“That’d be nice, yeah.”

He started bending his head down and had to quickly hold out his hand.

“Was that a… bow?” Raiden took it pretty lazily, hopping to their feet.

“World’s greatest mysteries.”

Alph really did not want to ask, but after reckless consultation from their dad, it felt like the best course of action. “Do you hate me?”

Urban stopped in his tracks. “What?”

“Like, because,” Alph cleared their throat. “Sometimes, you’ll text me back instantly, as soon as you’re done with whatever you’re doing, and other times, it takes at least a week. I don’t see you at all, anywhere, and you just return like nothing happened. Like you need a break and you’re too afraid to, to say anything.”

He went quiet. Deadly still.

“Do, am, am I doing something wrong?” Alph cringes at their own voice cracking.

“It’s, uh, let’s go get that ice cream.”

Alph takes a deep breath. “I understand if you don’t feel ready to talk about it, but I don’t think I can continue just living with it, like it’s not something I don’t worry about.”

“It’s not, I don’t, you’re fine. You don’t have to worry about it.”

“If it’s not me, then what is it? I want to help.”

Urban looks around, turning to face Alph. “Not now.”

“Please. I know I’m being a dick, but if not now, then when are you going to let me in?”

He looks away. Starts backing up.

“Don’t run from this. If not now, when?”

His foot catches, plants itself back into the ground, but he doesn’t bring himself to look at Alph. “You know how proud you are of your father? The way he saves kids, helps them on their journey to getting ‘fixed,’ so that they aren’t some sort of, some sort of danger? The way you so, so proudly say you want to be just like him?

“You know, I know you do. You know the way he does it with a pair of hand, hand⸺”

“Kinetic handcuffs,” Alph finishes.

“⸺binders. Hand binders. That’s what they are, and all of you refuse to admit it. I’m pyrokinetic, Raiden. I’m one of those kids sent to the hellhole you keep saying helps kids. You have no fucking idea. You want to know where I disappear to for weeks? It’s a fucking rehab clinic, because that’s the only place they know where to shove everyone they don’t want. Shove their hands inside of some metal, don’t let them stretch once or twice a day, make them eat with their god damn mouths because they’re too afraid of what might come springing up from the hands once they’re free.

“We’re all monsters. That’s what it is, we’re monsters. And you praise everyone who does it to them, does it to me. But you are the only FUCKING person that I have, and I keep lying to myself to keep you here.” Tears spring up in his eyes, each word coming out with a choked sob. “What do you want from me? I couldn’t tell you because I was, I am so afraid you are going to leave, and I’ll be the one nobody wanted again! I’ll go and choke on some pills, I’ll never use fire again because every time I do, it is always, always a mistake. Because I am a mistake.”

Alph couldn’t move. They didn’t have anything to say.

“I wear long sleeves so you never see the cuff burns on my wrists. I’m homeschooled because I can’t be trusted not to harm everyone around me. I ripped the buttons off of every article of clothing I have, and I used my mouth to sew on little metallic catches I bent out of paperclips so I didn’t have to torture myself as much with my hands stuck together. I had to learn to sew with my mouth, because how else was I supposed to stitch my life back together? I learned to bow my head so other kids just like me could wring their stuck hands around it and could get off the god damn floor when they fell over! Nobody helped us but ourselves! I’m trusted with a needle, but god forbid they trust me with my hands.

“So yes, I’m fine. I am fine and it is definitely not you. I am a mistake.”

Alph’s breath catches in their throat, looking at the flame engulfing Urban’s hand with terrifying precision, watched it swing and follow his hand. Watched Urban’s evolving horror when he saw it himself. I’m sorry lodged with everything else they’d ever wanted to say.

“This was a mistake.” Urban ran off into the dark, leaving Alph to stand there in their own silence.

“Thanks,” Alph muttered to the person at the front desk, wringing the lanyard around their head. The first thing they saw was an empty cafeteria apart from one person who stopped eating upon sighting them.

Alph wrung their hands together nervously. A fire alarm got them away from this.

None of these kids had a fire alarm.

They hated that they hadn’t noticed sooner, hated that they’d immediately looked into it, hated that they knew Urban would turn himself in. They had to help a random kid with a door handle on the way down the hallway.

Alph pulled open the door after knocking and receiving a muffle back. Urban was on a cot biting—and bending—paperclips next to a pair of jeans that looked way too small for him. They’d spent a lot of time trying to think of what to say, and hadn’t really decided on anything yet.

“Hhh-eyh,” was the best Urban offered.

“I’m sorry.”

Urban took a moment to swallow. “Fuh wh-at?”

“I, I investigated you, for starters.” Alph shut the door behind them. “I shouldn’t have done that. I don’t even know if I had the right to show up here. I don’t think they ask permission. And I was a very, very inconsiderate asshole.”

Urban shrugs. “Yeuh neeh⸺ wun zec.” He sort of just drops the bent paperclip onto his bound hands, frowning. “You were never taught otherwise. I just, I blew up.”

“I should have known something was wrong. I just never knew you had a kinetic, and it never clicked.”

“Like I said, the system didn’t tell you what happens inside. They told you what you wanted to hear about it, and that was all the justification that you needed. You believed it because it’s what you wanted to, and you didn’t care to look deeper because you thought it would be just like the pretty picture they made. No one says anything because no one listens. And I didn’t like being confronted about not telling you earlier. Telling you everything you looked up to is a lie.”

“I’m such⸺”

“An ass. Don’t keep telling me.”

Alph bit their lip, fidgeting with the lanyard. “I don’t want it to be a lie. I thought it over, a bit, when I was looking for you in rehab records. I want to change something. Change this. I don’t think you’re a monster, or a mistake, and I don’t want other kids to think the same about themselves. I don’t want these silly handles on your doors that little kids can’t open or close without help.”

Urban clears his throat, “I don’t want to be called Harlow. I associate it with, with this, and not the things you associate me with. Or, at least, did. I’ll learn to let it go eventually, once I can associate it with something else.”

“Sounds good, great. I mean, I don’t mind. Uhm, I wanted to bring in a console, but then I figured you probably couldn’t really, uh, play super well.”

“I didn’t get better than you by never playing when my hands were tied. But I appreciate the insight. Could you, uh, rip out the button on that? Kid named Lukas really wanted, he wanted to spend less time every day fiddling with it.”

“If it helps, I thought it was just a fashion statement.”

There were hinges on the binders to allow at least some wrist-like movement Urban used to pick up a needle on the bed. Urban noticed Alph watching it and laughed a bit. “They added the hinges because they thought it would help with soup. Nobody complained, but it doesn’t help with holding spoons.”

It took Alph a minute to laugh about it with him.

next chapter

━━━━━━━━━━━━ ▲ missing a content warning? let me know

it's so crazy that i made fictional characters more considerate of each other than myself

this chapter makes so much more sense with prior context i promise

[marilostfieldblog]

[Video transcript begin.]

[The transcript begins with someone holding their phone, they are seemingly sitting on a bench. They take a deep sigh as loud music identified as "All I want for Christmas is you" is heard over a speaker.]

?: I am going to kill someone I swear.

[Voice identified: Mari.]

M: Will this music ever SHUT UP!

[Metallic clanks are heard just barely over the music, as well as laughter, it sounds non-human.]

M: Ugh… Has it really been three hours? Listen you and I both know you won't ki-

[The source of the noise moves into frame, shrouded in shadow. Their eyes shine like a wild animals would in the low light.]

?: Are you sure you know me well enough to make assumptions like that?

[Voice identified: Cassius.]

M: You are the one who told me you wouldn't kill me cuz I was taking care of a kid, and when I gave you the chance you said no.

C: THAT WAS BEFORE THIS FUCKING SONG GOT STUCK PLAYING ON LOOP OVER THE DAMN SPEAKERS. GET OVER HERE.

[He lunges towards the bench.]

M: Nope!

[Mari hops off the bench as Cassius flies into it, the song still playing as they begin running.]

[Cassius shouts in frustration, before giving chase, his footsteps heavy on the tile floor of the mall.]

M: Gonna have to catch me jackass!

C: You motherfucker! Get back here so I can gut you!

M: I have a kid to get out of this mall so not happening you bitch!

[Mari takes a sharp left turn, throwing a trash can at Cassius as they do.]

C: If you let me kill you, you won’t have to hear this infernal music anymore!

M: My point remains!

[The footsteps behind Mari turn to a sort of… scuttling, as Cassius switches to using the spider legs. Before switching back.]

M: If you want to kill me you have to get sparrow out!

C: I don’t have to do shit!

M: Then I ain't letting you catch me!

[Another corner is turned, a loud yell, then a crash can be heard behind Mari. Almost as if several cardboard boxes had fallen down.]

C: FUCKING HELL–

[Mari laughs, their laugh seemingly being one of joy and malice.]

M: GET FUCKED!

C: That tends to happen, yeah!

M: I doubt you get that much play.

C: You’d be surprised, Mari! Not like you’d know what works out there, you’ve only had like, one girlfriend! Where even is she?

[Mari points at someone barely out of frame.]

M: Right there apparently.

[Mari turns the phone, in view is someone with black hair wearing a showfall mask. They run off after about 5 seconds.]

M: Nevermind. Anyway you don't even HAVE a girlfriend.

C: Never wanted one! I don’t do that shit, jackass!

M: That why you fucked one of your bosses?

C: THERE’S A DIFFERENCE BETWEEN A ONE NIGHT THING AND A LONG TERM RELATIONSHIP.

M: FAIR ENOUGH! BUT YOU CAN'T TALK ABOUT ME NOT KNOWING WHAT WORKS. I HAVEN'T HAD THE CHANCE I TURNED 18 INSIDE THIS HELLHOLE!

C: HOW THE FUCK DID WE GET ON THIS TOPIC!?

M: BECAUSE YOU TOOK 'Get fucked' A BIT TOO LITERAL!

[A short pause.]

C: STOP RUNNING SO I CAN MURDER YOU.

M: NO YOU FUCKER! No pun intended.

[Mari laughs as they continue running.]

[This continues for another few minutes, before the music in the background suddenly comes to a halt.]

M: What.

[Mari stops, the phone jolting as they do.]

C: Huh.

M: Did. The music just. Stop?

C: Guess they fixed it.

M: So uh… What now?

C: I don’t know. My main motivation is gone. So I guess I just… head back to the offices.

M: What the fuck.

C: What, do you want me to keep trying to murder you?

M: You wouldn't kill me anyway. You already proved that.

C: If you weren’t as fast as you are, I would’ve.

M: Bullshit. A. You've been given multiple opportunities. B. The deal with will.

[Cassius takes a few steps towards Mari.]

C: Please don’t mention the deal, not out in the open.

M: Fine. Whateve-

[Mari yawns, quite loudly.]

C: Jesus Christ. Do you not sleep at all? Why are you so fuckin’ tired?

M: Did you HEAR the music?

C: Of course I heard the fucking music! I’m talking about in general, asshole!

M: NO! I've been taking care of the kid, and if you were experimented on trapped in a dark room for god knows how long and your mom was a wire monster. YOU WOULD HAVE NIGHTMARES TOO.

C: … Get them a journal.

M: What?

C: You heard me. Get them a journal.

M: Wha- Why?

C: Are you dense? For the damn nightmares. Writing down things like that helps sometimes.

M: Oh… Um… Where am I gonna find one… Here?

C: … I’ll grab you one tomorrow. Just. Go back to your stupid area. I’m leaving.

M: Uh… Sure. Cool… Just uh… Ask Will for our location.

[Cassius nods, then, a few seconds later, his eyes widen slightly, realizing what he’s just done.]

C: [Whispered.] Fuck.

M: Hold on. If you ever… And I mean EVER. need help, big or small… Y'know where to find me Cass.

[Mari puts their head down, seemingly whispering.]

M: [Whispered.] Sparrow wants you and Ophelia to be ok… for will.

[Cassius stares at Mari, his expression hardens, yet his eyes are full of fear.]

C: I don’t need your fuckin’ help, Editor. And don’t call me ‘Cass’. We aren’t friends.

M: Ha… Haha… Hahahahaha…

[Mari breaks into a fit of laughter, this time the tone is more somber and caring.]

[He takes a few steps back, before turning around fully and walking away, his steps quicken as he gets farther away. He vanishes around a corner a few seconds later.]

M: Can't lie to me… God damnit why do I…

[Mari falls to the ground, seemingly confused.]

M: Why do I care… That idiot is nothing but an asshole to me but… Ugh. If he doesn't want…

[Mari stops, they continue laughing for 30 seconds before yawning again.]

M: If you see this, Will cares about you… And strike system or not I think you do too… So until you take things one step too far… I'm gonna try and help you. Because William is my friend too you dick.

[Mari yawns again, before passing out in a dark corner. The phone stays on for roughly 30 minutes before shutting off.]

[End transcript.]

[renon4224]

WIP 44

Chapter One

I stared at the wall, though in this darkness I can’t make out anything, not even where the wall met the floor.

“Sada? Are you awake?” My ‘cellmate’ across the room, asked.

“Not anymore, Morgan.” 

“When do you think we’ll get to go home?” As far as I know, Morgan was seven when she was taken. Her parents never even tried to hide her, they just thought that the government wouldn’t do something so corrupt.

“I don’t know, but it’s late and we have a long day tomorrow. So, can we please go to sleep?”

“Okay.” 

My heart aches for her, she turned ten last week, not that I’d tell her that. At least not yet, she already cries herself to sleep most of the time. My real name is Reihan Wessex, and it is January 5, 2025, marking my eighteenth birthday, and third year at Ravenwood Correctional Facility. This whole thing started three years ago, I was in school and happy. Until my step-mom took me out of school in the middle of the day, which was strange considering that she HATED taking me out of school when I was sick and I didn’t have any pressing appointments, it was the last day of school, June 2, 2022. She told me and my sister that we were gonna drive really far, a ‘road trip’ of sorts, but we, my sister and I, had no notions, or even a slight mention of this trip, Dad was waiting for us and we left. After we had crossed state lines into Idaho, the police stopped us and arrested me and my sister, Aurora was taken into a different car than me, they took her back across state lines, but took me closer to Spokane. My parents were screaming, and I attacked the officers holding me, but they refused to let go, I ended up slamming the car door on someone’s hand and jumping out. I screamed at my parents to get in the car, they did, I jumped in and we made a run for it, chasing the cop that had my sister, but we lost her, and the cops behind us were catching up, I told my parents to turn me in, find my sister and keep her safe, they refused to let me out of the car, but I needed to have them focus on Sis, she needed to be safe. I showed them my walkie-talkie, the one, me and her always took with us when we left anywhere, I turned it on, and called her. It rang and finally picked up, she said nothing, and then all of a sudden, “Interstate 90” that was it. I called again, and she said nothing, but I could hear the officer that took her talking, “Why would she be going to White Garden?” my parents heard and gave each other a knowing look, so I turned off the walkie. They told me that we were gonna go get her, but it didn’t turn out that way. I ended up getting caught, but she got out, she was safe, and that’s the only thing that matters. I shook myself out of the memory and scratched a tally into the backboard of my bed, marking my nine hundred fifty-third day at Ravenwood. 

-Ten hours later-

Think of the most ear-shattering, screeching, loudest noise you can think of, now times that by a hundred, and you’re close to the sound that I’ve woken up to for the past three years. 

“Get up, you lazy freaks.” Another constant reminder of the hellhole I’m stuck in, or as they would have us say, a perfect wake-up since we aren’t allowed to have alarm clocks.

The guard looked around, his eyes scanning the room for somebody to pick on, “Hey you, get going already, you have,” He looked at his watch, “Eight minutes, chop-chop.”

I looked at the girl he had pointed at, she looked like she was gonna pass out, she was one of the newer ones, the shipment from last week. Morgan had tears pouring down her face again, she reminded me of my cousins, they were a little bit younger than her, but they would’ve still been taken. I wonder if that’s why I felt obligated to keep her safe, after all, the similarities ran deep. Right down to the way she would cry if you talked to her too roughly.

“Hey, come here Morgan,” I whispered, my voice low enough the guard couldn’t hear me, while also being clear enough to have Morgan hear me.

“Yeah?” She looked at me with hope, just like every morning.

“Let me help you.” I had finished getting dressed almost immediately after waking up, courtesy of waking at 5:30 a.m. I pushed my reminiscing away and tossed Mory’s clothes on her, shoes were kept with number tags at all exits, they were unnecessary otherwise.

-10 minutes later-

“2504847, line up.” 

I obeyed, keeping my head down, insubordination was met with pain, not always physical, and I wouldn’t be lucky enough to have one of the female guards reprimand me.

“Put your shoes on, hussy.” The older man barked, some of the younger officers laughed, one- ONE girl looked at him in disbelief, like she was so disappointed in him, I shook the thought away, she’s just like the rest of them. After all, this was just baiting and cornering, we couldn’t wear shoes inside and we weren’t allowed to talk to the officers.

“That’s not necessary, Innalt.” A girl, she was a new recruit, stepped between me and Innalt.

“Oh come, let me have a little fun with ‘em, Loa.” He leered at me.

I took a deep breath and motioned for the other girls to follow with the line-up, missing headcount was punishable with a missed meal or being tied outside for a couple of days, with only the bare necessities.

“No, these girls need breakfast so, hurry up with headcount before I take over.” From where I stood, she looked like a savior, but I was waiting for the other shoe to drop, she would turn around and do some stupid degrading thing, like everyone else.

“Fine,” He rattled off the codes for the other nine girls in my cabin, “Happy?”

“Yes.” She smiled and Innalt looked so pissed, it was a glorious moment.

-10 minutes later (With merciless teasing althroughout)-

We all walked into the Mess Hall, imagine your kitchen at home, filled with dirty dishes, mold in the sinks, a fridge that had never been cleaned or turned on, and tons of kids crammed into one room, and then you’re close to the smell and unsanitary grossness of the Mess Hall. 

“Wash your hands and dishes.” Another constant here, more stupid things said over the loudspeakers.

Nonetheless, everyone started cleaning everything they would need for ‘breakfast’, lunch, and ‘dinner’. Breakfast generally consisted of some gross mush the cook made, lunch was whatever the kids got from the garden, and my peers would cook something for the younger kids, but dinner was just the leftover mush warmed up from breakfast. When I first arrived, meals were much better, we had everything we needed, but then the camp became crowded and food shortages resulted, leaving everyone scrambling to try and find food. 

"2504847?" The female guard from earlier, Loa, came up to me. 

I washed my dishes in silence, Loa knew the rules, it was cruel to ask me to disobey them. After Loa figured out I wasn't in the mood for false pleasantries, she took someone else's dishes and started washing them.

"Loa! The little monsters can wash their own shit, get over here!" Innalt yelled, he was the worst of the guards, always targeting the little ones and newcomers. He was the one who everyone was terrified of, him and his naughty punishments. 

"Not now Innalt, I'm showing compassion, something you seem to be incapable of." Loa was able to stick up for herself…a pleasure we are denied.

"Are you trying to get little Miss 2504847 in trouble? Let me help." Innalt was creeping towards me, Loa stopped him, but he pushed her aside.

"You're eighteen this year, aren't you?" He whispered, his hands running the length of my sides, "You're looking pretty full up top there," He rested his chin in the crook of my neck, his hands coming inward and up to where my bra ended.

And for a second, I wondered what it would be like to feel this with someone I actually loved. 

"Innalt. Hands off." Great, another male guard. Innalt released me, but not before he had squeezed my breasts and pushed his nasty little thing into me.

"Oh come on Master Ravenwood, let me have some fun." Innalt joked.

"If you keep 'having some fun' I'll make sure you eat whatever the girls eat for the next fortnight, understood?"

"Sir." Good, be scared of our meals. Be scared of the ways you treat kids.

"Miss 2504847. Follow me." Master Ravenwood called, so I rearranged my clothes into a fashion that didn't scream 'inappropriate touching'.

-In Master Ravenwood's office-

Master Ravenwood looked like a typical black-haired blue-eyed teen, or at least he wasn't much older than me. I looked around the office, no decor except for a painting of what looked like broken glass. I kept my head bowed, if he was anything like the rumors…he could've called me in here to kill me. 

The fear must've been evident in my body language, "Don't fret, I'm not going to hurt you," I could almost hear the yet. I just nodded and he sighed, "Anything you say in here can't be recorded, feel free to speak your mind in here." 

"Innalt should be fed to the pigs." I had the worst mean streak, and I knew exactly what my revenge would be.

He laughed, "I'm afraid I cannot fire Innalt, he's too good at what he does."

"You mean rape, right? Because he is absolutely AWFUL at everything else." 

Ravenwood punched the table, "Hold your tongue, wench. Innalt's methods may be....... irregular," He came to my side of the table, resting his hands on my shoulders, and pinching the skin, "But they work, I've never had a kid escape my facility in his lead."

I shrugged him off, "Yet, you've never had a kid escape yet. And you've also never had a guard die, have you?"

"Ahh, so you are a Code Purple." He seemed triumphant, which confused me.

"Does Code Purple mean I can kill Innalt?" I wasn't brave, or strong, just stubborn and hateful. They put me here, I will make their jobs hell.

"Of course not, it just means we need to find your weakness and play with it." He emphasized 'play' in a way that made me think that 'playing' would be much much worse than Innalt.

"I wish you were dead too, fed to the-" He slapped me in the mouth, and then he shoved me out the door.

"Leave 2504847 in the pigpen, forty-eight hours of that should teach her to hold her tongue and respect the people who care for her." His voice wasn't cruel, just cold and empty.

Two male guards escorted me out, when we reached the exit they allowed me to tie my shoes and when we reached the pen they tried to throw me into the mud, it almost worked, except I turned and flew at one of the guards, a rusty nail in my left hand. 

"None of that, you hear me 2504847?" The other guard stopped me and plucked the nail from my grasp. I snarled in response, they were all pigs. Disgusting little boars.

I hadn't eaten anything since yesterday, but my adrenaline made me forget about it for awhile. I calmed down and I imagined Innalt coming over to 'play' and falling a little too close to the piglets, the mother ripping him to shreds, leaving only his head intact, his baby blues losing all emotion, his blond hair caked with blood, and the pigs feasting on his groin and hands. I could almost hear his screams, almost see how he tried to electrocute the pig with his taser, but he couldn't figure out how to make it work, and he suffered. I kept going over how he didn't die until after the pig had ripped his naughty bits off, the last thing he saw was his precious body parts being eaten by a pig and the girl he failed to rape. 

I had fallen asleep and when I woke, Morgan was trying to throw me a couple carrots while looking as though she was really feeding the pigs. She was attempting to throw the carrots close enough that they wouldn’t get shit on them and I’d be able to grab them before the pigs did, however, she only managed to chuck one at my head and the others were picked up by the piglets. I shooed her away when a guard came to taunt me, it was the stupid girl Loa.

“Your time is almost up, when you leave, you should gather all your belongings and prepare to leave the Ravenwood Correctional Facility.” She was wearing the Corrector Bracelet, which would give off electrical warnings, but guards rarely used them.

“And you should call it by its real name, hell.” I spat, kicking a piece of particularly foul faeces up at her.

She jumped back, the faeces landing on her pristine white combat boots, “Fine, goodbye.” She huffed and walked away.

“That’s what I thought!” I was pissed, even if my time was up soon, I’d have to meet with the shit-head Master again.

Innalt was messing with some girls, they were a bit younger than me, somewhere around fifteen and sixteen. Innalt wasn’t bad when he first came, he had just barely missed the deadline and he had tried to help one girl escape when it failed and she was flogged, he went kinda crazy, he stopped being nice and started touching other girls, but only ones who looked like his ex. Sadly, Morgan and I both looked like her and so did most of the girls in our faction. I couldn’t remember the last time he talked to someone just to talk. Not even the other guards liked him, they only liked that his good work equalled their good pay.

Some nights I wanted to choke out the guards outside my room and get all the girls out, but then I remember that even the best of us could be shot, they’d just leave the shot ones to die. Other nights, I just want to talk to my parents, or my sister, I hope so bitterly that they're all safe, somewhere up in the Yaak, or so far away that they escaped the waves. That’s what we call them now, ‘waves’, the cops and law enforcement went out every three weeks to find everyone between the ages of fifteen to seven for one year. I didn’t know about the waves until the middle of it all when they finally came to my hometown. 

[ayodele-loretta]

My Girls

Many people wonder if when a loved one dies that person watches over them. Are they really now part of the sea of lights or are they forever just ceased? Truth is, they do. I do. I guess the sea of lights isn’t real. But now I just sit in the silence of nothingness, watching over Leigh and Beau, making sure my beautiful girls stay living. Even when I’m gone. 

I never wanted to leave, to be honest I wanted to keep living with my girls. But they hated me. I lied to them and they hated me. What other choice would I have other than death when they hated me? I didn’t mean to lie to them. It just happened. One lie and their entire trust shattered. 

I told them I was clean, that I wasn’t using anymore and hadn’t been for a while. That was a lie. They told me that if I wasn’t clean then they will help me but I have to tell them the truth. But that’s the thing with addicts. You can’t just simply tell the truth. You have to open up about why you started using again, why you felt like you needed it. Why, why, why, why. All these why’s and then afterwards you get told that you need to go back to the hellhole. Where they take away communication and your girls promise they love you and that it is okay to be here. 

“I would never put you guys in here, You don’t understand, I love you guys.” I said, crossing my arms and looking away from them. “I would sacrifice myself for you before I ever let someone put you in a place like this.” 

“We aren’t like you, Mori. We won’t end up in a place like this. It’s just a few weeks of rehab, you’ve done it before.” Beau replied, brushing my hair behind my ear. “And then you can come home and be with us.” 

“Yeah, we love you so much. We want you to get better, that’s all.” Leigh smiled at me. 

That was one time they caught me. I hate lying. They should know that. But how come they keep forcing me to. It was in rehab that I died. I managed to get my dealer to come and bring the heroin in a book. He was dressed up for the occasion, acting like my brother so that the guards didn’t think anything of it. I managed to slip the goods in my sleeve when the guard checked the book. 

“Looks good. You’re going back to your room right?” Larry asked, handing me the book. 

“Yeah. I’m tired. I stayed up all night because of checks. I know that they will still do checks but I just need some sleep. See you later, Larry.” I said quickly as I scurried to my room. I took out the heroin. I needed that. I didn’t have a needle, so I grabbed the pen I took from the crafts room. I took one of the sheets off the bed and put it in my mouth to avoid me screaming. I knew the moment I did this, I needed to get the dope into my system as soon as possible. I took 3

long

deep

breaths

and then I jammed the pen as hard as possible into my vein. I let out a muffled scream, thank god I am not too loud. I poked a small hole in the container and put it against the hole in my skin. I felt the liquid dribbling out into my bloodstream, and all over my arm. I don’t know how long it was there for, I just know the next time I looked down there was no more dope in the container. It felt nice to be replenished like that. I got up and I laid on the bed and closed my eyes to enjoy it. 

That container help 3 mL of liquid. That means 327 nanograms. Triple the lethal amount. And I didn’t even feel it. 

I fell asleep quickly and never woke up again. So now, I just sit in nothingness, watching my girls who put me in that place, cursing both their names and wishing the same fate as me.

[yonemurishiroku]

Heyyy what are your thoughts on the title of nico's book and the plot in general (pls i want a rant

I love you conteud btw

Omg this ask akxhakdhsksj hold on just let me show you this. So, this is my post:

And the reblogs:

LMAO believe me this is so funny istg. Why? Because that is exactly how I feel about the title.

- First, I’m gonna be perfectly honest here, I’m NOT comfortable with the Adventure part.

Because the same as @gods-nico, I don’t like how it downplays Nico’s physical and mental trauma as a… field trip. Yeah let’s just go with that.

I’m aware of my enthusiasm for angst materials, but this is just a little too much for me. I have always seen Tartarus as a forever deep, unfixable, indelible scar to Nico’s body and mind (i came up with a disable Nico AU based on that. like, srsly). He suffers from it and never manages to fully escape. It’s terrible. It’s nightmarish. We’ve all seen how difficult it was for Percy and Annabeth to trek through it. Tartarus is not, by any mean, someplace one would wish to explore in a freaking adventure.

It’s like saying all the horrors they’ve gone through down there are actually magical wanders. Or tourist attractions. Something along that line. Please, just. No. Don’t do that to me.

In fact, the sole reason Nico wants to come back to Tartarus is because he loves his friend Bob too much to leave him. It’s a rescue mission. They’re jumping head first in a hellhole to save Nico’s friend, not go sightseeing and definitely not a picnic. 😦😦💀💀

I’m saying this with utmost respect: the fact that the title practically sugarcoats Tartarus and dismisses Nico’s dedication to his friend upsets me.

- However, as much as I ‘value’ Nico’s trauma, I’m also amazed by his strength and ofc, eager to see more of it. That’s to say, I wholeheartedly wish to see Nico conquer Tartarus.

I’ve said it once and I’d say it again: I love both Nico’s sufferings and toughness.

Nico would be powerfully beautiful standing up against one of his deepest trauma, all resilient, unafraid and unrelenting. He manages to overcome his fears and thus, is finally able to heal fully. (Nico di Angelo deserves to goddamned heal)

This is the only scenario in which I indulge a less terrible Tartarus, not because the hellhole itself is any more lenient, but that Nico has become much, much stronger. And with the help of his boyfriend, they’re enough to fight it and win.

It’d be absolutely splendid. And I’m nothing if not a powerful Nico enthusiast.

It’s many things coming at once. Nico’s resolve. His resilience. Will’s support. His love. Their love. All of them get Nico another step closer to his happy ending. And what kind of Nico’s self-proclaimed mother would I be if I’m not forever grateful for that?

When I see Nico win over Tartarus, it’d be thanks to his inner strength and everything he’d managed to gain by himself, NOT because the hell itself is ridiculously nerfed weak.

That’d be the true prove to Nico’s astounding character development.

- Regarding the Sun vs Star part, we’re probably talking pretty lively about it so I’ll just skip it lolol it’s 1:30am.

Moving to the plot.

- I’m genuinely excited to see Bob again, not only because I adore his and Nico’s friendship but also I want to see how his character development would progress, provided that Iedeptus’ memories show signs of coming back. And ofc, how that would affect the friendships he’s made with the demigods.

This is the closest, most detailed I get to see of Nico interacting with a side-character. Exactly what I’ve been harboring a special liking for.

Bob isn’t a popular character. And when some beloved unpopular character of mine gets the spotlight, I’m more than thrilled.

- But again, the title “Adventure” does dump a bucket of cold water on it. I’d be extremely disappointed if Nico’s rescue mission turns out to be a children’s walk in the wild park. Hopefully not.

- Ofc, Will Solace. How a healer like him is gonna fend for himself and keeps Nico from physically/ mentally deteriorating at the same time really intrigues me.

I don’t have specific expectations for Will like plague abilities etc, but still I’m genuinely looking forward to see how Rick and Mark would work it out for him. A well-built background for him would be nice, too - I’m aware a lot of us love Will on a spiritual level - but I’d have no problem to be sufficed by a Nico-centric story.

It’d be lovely if through Will, we have the connection to Apollo/ Lester as the protagonist of the previous series, as well.

- Frankly, Will Solace and Solangelo practically have the most potentials LOL. They are both unexplored/ poorly-portrayed fields that hold a lot of materials to work on. And I know for a fact that a large number of loyal fans would want to feast in it.

I only hope they’re well-written and logical. If Solangelo turns out to be forced and poorly-written I might just bury myself.

That’s all I’ve got to say at the moment, I guess.

For the outro, just let me establish that, while I may have some qualms with the title, I’d refrain from commenting on and spreading information about the book itself - as long as it isn’t published yet.

A title doesn’t say everything about a book, so I’d like to keep the expectations/ worries in check while everything is still veiled. What I rant about the title does not stand for how I judge the book. We’ll get to it when I’ve actually read the final work itself.

Lastly, sincerely thank you, anon, for this ask!!! 🥺🤩👍 I get to rant freely lol. Even when you might have opposing opinions to mine, please feel free to send more asks if you want to discuss more! (´▽｀) I’m open to everything except hate, really.

Have a nice day, and I hope none of us would be disappointed when the book comes out.

[dialovers-translations]

Diabolik Lovers LOST EDEN ー Ayato Ecstasy [06]

ー The scene starts in the hallway at Eden

Ayato: What is it you want to discuss with me...?

Kou: Actually, we were told that the Church of the human world will join forces with the Vibora. Do you understand what that means?

Ayato: ...

Yuma: In short, if we stay here, then Ruki and the other Sakamaki’s will all become our enemy. 

Kou: So we considered many possibilities. While we don’t like having to oppose Ruki-kun like this...

Azusa: Still...If we join him in the human world, we’d basically be abandoning Eden...

Kou: I don’t know how the two of you feel about this place.

But to the four of us, Eden will always be like a home to us...

Yuma: Even if it has gone to shit, we can’t just leave it behind that easily...

Ayato: So you’re going to fight Ruki in order to protect Eden?

And you think you can do that?

Lemme tell you just in case, but I’m not workin’ together with you guys.

Eden is not their target. They’re after my powers. 

I will fight for my sake and my sake only. I don’t have the time to look after you guys too.

Kou: We’re well aware. That’s why we have a proposal.

Ayato: ...A proposal?

Kou: Yeah. I mean, we really do feel bad for having to ask you this but...

Monologue

Kou told me,

that they want me to leave Eden.

The Vibora Clan are after my powers. 

In which case, if I’m no longer here,

Eden will not become a battle field. 

I was going to defend my case,

but ultimately decided against it.

I honestly did not give a damn,

about Eden at all. 

In which case, I’ll leave just as they asked of me.

But...

If I do that,

where exactly am I supposed to go? 

Return to the human world? 

...No, I can’t do that. 

There’s no way those guys,

would ever let me do that.

It was then that I realized. 

That there was simply no place for me in this world anymore.

ー The scene shifts to the inner courtyard 

*ROAAAAAAR*

Ayato: Che, this sound gives me the creeps...

*ROAAAAAAR*

Ayato: ( Honestly, they’re doing me a favor by askin’ me to leave... )

( I’ll gladly leave this worn down hellhole... )

( But...I wonder what she’ll say about it...? )

...

ー The scene shifts to the hallway

*Knock knock*

Ayato: ...Yui...?

( No reaction. Is she asleep? )

Oi, I’m comin’ in, ‘kay?

ー Ayato enters the bedroom

Ayato: ( ...She’s not here? Where did she go...? )

ー He walks around

*Flip*

Ayato: Hm? Just now, somethin’...? 

( This is Yui’s handwriting...A letter for me...? )

*Flip* 

Ayato: ...The fuck is this...?

Monologue

As I read through, I was dumbfounded. 

She was heading towards the Vibora King,

to put an end to this fight.

Apparently he had offered such a trade,

in his own letter. 

I had absolutely no clue about that.

‘I’m sorry for keeping it a secret. 

I apologize...For everything I’ve done up till now.’

Those were her exact words.

*Crumple* 

On certain CGs, little black roses will appear on the screen. If you click on them, you get an extra line of dialogue.

“I need you. I’m hopeless without Chichinashi by my side.”

“I finally realized. Just how much I’ve been pushin’ everyone ‘round.”

Ayato: ...The fuck...? Did she think I’d be happy about her doin’ this...?

That idiot...She keeps on bein’ so goddamn selfish...!

...

( Selfish...? Is she really now...? )

( Deep down, I know damn well. She’s not the selfish one here... )

( I’m the one...Who’s more selfish and awful than anyone else... )

( She cared so deeply for me, didn’t she...? )

( Yet...I... )

Fuck...Why did you leave...?

When you’re gone, I’ll truly be all alone, you know...?

( But...I’m the one who brought this upon myself... )

( I never even bothered to listen to her. If anythin’, I just deliberately pushed her away... )

( Even if I...regret that now...It’s already...too late, for everything... )

...Damnit...!

*THUD*

ー The scene shifts to the inside of the horse carriage

Familiar: It will be somewhat of a long journey to Zweig-sama’s castle...

So if there is anything you need, please do not hesitate to ask.

Yui: Thank you very much...

Selection

→ Look back at Eden

Yui: ( Eden is disappearing into the distance... )

( ...I better not. I don’t have the time to look back now. )

( I want to help Ayato-kun. So... )

( This is how I can do that... )

→ Look straight ahead (❦)

Yui: ( Let me face forward for now. I won’t look back no more... )

( This is a decision I made myself after all... )

( Because this is how I can help Ayato-kun... )

Monologue

I wonder if Ayato-kun,

has found said letter. 

Is he upset with me, perhaps?��

However, I do not regret my decision. 

This is the most (精一杯) I can do right now. 

Please, may Ayato-kun and his brothers,

be able to put their differences aside (仲直り).

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー