#11 and 12 seem to be somewhere in the middle

[persevereforahappyending]

A Legacies Secret |7|

Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Reader

Summary: You just wanted a happy life with your girlfriend but then Ghostface attacks, revealing long thought to be buried family secrets.

Warnings: Language, Talks of Murder

Word Count: 5.1k+

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15

Tara sat in her hospital bed with you right by her side, your arms were crossed, and your eyes were looking down at your shoes. Tara had been sleeping when you messaged her, she didn’t know what happened until you came into the room with an arm around Sam. She was rubbing the sleep from her eyes as she saw you help Sam into a seat at the table near Tara’s bedside. You had moved to her bedside and quietly told her what Sam told you, that she was attacked by someone dressed like Ghostface.

Richie had come into the room a second later, his headphones in and his eyes still glued to his phone. You didn’t say anything, but Tara noticed the way your eyes tracked Richie’s movements, the way he looked up and instantly ran to Sam’s side, like a caring boyfriend would. Tara had been sleeping, she didn’t know when Richie had left the room or how long he had been gone.

You hadn’t said anything, but Tara read over your texts, her eyes widened when she read that Vince had been killed and you were the one to find his body. She was happy that Judy seemed to not question you too long, it meant she at least believed you were innocent, or she didn’t have any evidence against you and no grounds to hold you. Tara was going with Judy knew you were innocent though.

Tara noticed the little bit of blood on your shirt and your shoes, the shoes you kept staring at. She wanted to ask you if you were okay, she couldn’t imagine what was going through your head. You weren’t friends with Vince by any means, you complained almost every time he was at the bar. That didn’t mean you could just brush off finding him dead, seeing a dead body of someone you knew, or anyone for that matter would be traumatizing. Tara didn’t want to bring it up with everyone in the room though, she knew you wouldn’t talk about it, especially with Amber there. 

Amber had come rushing into the room a few minutes after the deputy guarding Tara’s room told them the sheriff was on the way. Tara didn’t question it as Amber said she came as soon as she heard what happened. Tara probably should have, she had just woken up, she sent Wes a quick text but that was it, unless he and Amber were together there was no way she could have known so quickly, unless she was already on the way to the hospital. 

A few minutes later Judy came in, checking on Tara before she started questioning Sam about what happened. Tara didn’t know the whole deal between sheriff Hicks and Sam, she just knew all those times she woke up in the middle of the night to red and blue flashing lights outside her window, usually followed by Judy dragging Sam to the front door, sometimes in cuffs, before handing her back over to their mother. 

Tara wasn’t blind to the fact that Sam caused trouble. Even though Sam didn’t hang out with her anymore, even though she never talked to Tara about the trouble she got into, Tara knew it wasn’t good. Tara noticed the little things, like how Judy would hesitate before allowing Wes to enter the house when she dropped him off for Sam to babysit. Tara figured if Judy was still allowing Sam to watch Wes, then the trouble, she got into couldn’t have been too bad but maybe there just wasn’t other options for babysitters, or she didn’t want to suddenly send Wes somewhere else when all his friends were being watched by Sam. 

As Judy went over what happened with Sam, though she tried to remain professional, Tara caught the hint of distrust in her voice. She didn’t think Judy didn’t believe Sam, more that she didn’t want to be there and that she thought this was all somehow Sam’s fault. Tara wasn’t sure how being attacked by a psycho was Sam’s fault, she didn’t care what Sam did in the past, she came back when Tara was hurt and that’s what mattered. 

“I got a body outside a bar and then you get attacked here,” Judy directed at Sam, pacing back and forth as Sam continued to sit in the chair as if she were being scolded. “You said the call came from Amber’s number?” Sam could only nod. 

Sam had barely said a word since you brought her back to the room. Tara had tried talking to her, but she never responded. When Judy got there, she answered her questions and began to recount what happened, but her voice was distant. Tara didn’t know what Ghostface said to Sam over the phone or what happened when he attacked her, but it was clear Sam’s mind was somewhere far away. 

“So?” Amber said. “We know he cloned my phone before when he attacked Tara.” Despite questioning why, the call coming from her number mattered, she still handed the phone over to Judy to confirm there were no calls to Sam. 

“And,” Richie said, speaking up for the first time. Tara was surprised he was saying anything, he barely said a word since Sam first introduced him, he just sat in the corner of the room on his phone. “I’m just spit balling here, you’re the killer,” he looked at Amber, then Judy. Amber crossed her arms, glaring at him as if she couldn’t believe he dared question her. 

“And where were you when all this happened?” Judy crossed her arms directing her attention to Richie. That was a good question, Richie was the only other one in the hospital with them at the time and with Tara asleep she definitely couldn’t be his alibi. 

“I was…” Richie closed his eyes and sighed. “Watching Netflix.” Tara caught you rolling your eyes out of the side of her eye. It was in no way a good alibi, if Richie was involved then it was a terrible lie to choose. 

“Ooh, yeah, super solid alibi, bro,” Amber snarked, nodding her head. 

“So, where were you?” 

“I was questioning Amber and her friends at the sheriff’s station,” Judy answered for her. She handed Amber back her phone after thoroughly going through it, seeming to not find anything suspicious. 

Tara wasn’t fully surprised by that; she didn’t know the details but one of her texts from you mentioned her friends’ causing problems at the bar. You mentioned Vince trying to start shit with Chad. Tara definitely wasn’t surprised by that, she witnessed Liv dating Vince over the summer, she knew how he would still text her occasionally and still come into the video store trying to flirt with her. Tara assumed Judy brought the others in not long after talking to you, if they had had any sort of confrontation with Vince, they would all be suspects now. 

“Yeah, I came as soon as I heard,” Amber said. “But you know, the Netflix alibi is good too.” 

Tara saw you furrow your brow at Amber’s words, but you still didn’t look up from your shoes or say anything. Tara had a feeling she knew what you were thinking though. If Amber was being questioned by Judy at the station it would make sense how she heard about the attack on Sam and arrived so quickly, she could have overheard an officer or Judy could have told her herself. Amber was her best friend but even she couldn’t deny that Amber getting to the hospital a few minutes before Judy was pretty suspicious. 

“Both of you stop it,” Judy sighed. 

“You’re going to put more cops on her room, right?” Sam asked, finally looking up at Judy. 

“Yes,” Judy said instantly. “And I can move you to a private floor. Deputy Vincent knows what he’s doing, you’ll be safe.” 

“Like we’ve been so far?” 

Judy gave a tight-lipped smile. “Samantha let’s step outside?” she nodded towards the door. She worded it like a question, but Tara knew it wasn’t actually a question. 

Sam sighed, making sure to give Tara’s uninjured hand a squeeze before she got up and made her way out into the hall. Tara couldn’t blame her sister’s hostility; she was attacked by Ghostface and then while she was sleeping Sam was attacked by Ghostface in the hospital she was in. The hospital was supposed to be where Tara was going to get better, where she was meant to heal, not where she could get attacked by Ghostface again. She wasn’t sure she’d be able to sleep again knowing Ghostface knew where she was, and he had been there just down the hall from her room less than an hour ago. 

“Hey,” Tara whispered, looking up at you. You still hadn’t moved from leaning against the wall, but you turned to face Tara when she directly talked to you. “Are you okay?” 

You let out a sigh, parting open your mouth slightly as if you were about to say something before closing it. You glanced over at Amber and Richie who weren’t even looking towards you or Tara. It didn’t seem to matter though because you just shrugged and slumped back against the wall, Tara nodded, she’d just have to ask again when the two of you were actually alone. 

“Well, she remains a delight,” Sam mumbled as she came back into the room. 

“Are you okay?” Tara asked, sitting up in her bed slightly. She didn’t know what Judy wanted to talk to Sam about but clearly it wasn’t a pleasant conversation, though Sam didn’t seem too affected by it. 

“Would you mind giving us a second?” Sam asked, looking at Amber and Richie. “I need to talk to Tara.” 

“Come on Netflix, let’s go,” Amber said, though she didn’t seem thrilled about Sam asking them to leave. 

Sam stayed by the door, playing with her fingers as she looked at Tara and glanced towards you. You looked up, seeming to notice Sam was waiting for you to leave as well. You pushed off the wall, not even seeming like you’d fight to stay and hear whatever Sam wanted to talk about. 

“You good?” you asked, still looking at Tara with the same softness you always did, even after experiencing what you went through earlier that morning. Tara nodded; she wanted you to stay but whatever Sam wanted to talk to her about, it was clear she wanted to do it alone. “I’ll be right outside.” You kissed the top of her head then made your way out of the room, quietly closing the door behind you. 

“Do you remember when dad left?” Sam asked. 

“Parts, sure,” Tara said, scrunching her eyebrows as she watched Sam. 

They hardly talked about dad leaving when he left, let alone years later. Tara asked questions about where their dad was and when he was coming back, no one ever answered her and one day their mom snapped telling her he was never coming back. After that Tara just stopped asking, as she got older, she figured their parents got into a fight, she was always curious but never wanted to press the issue. Part of her always thought maybe it was her fault, he had left so close to her birthday and never called, or sent her a card, or anything. She wasn’t sure why Sam was bringing this up now though, it seemed they had other priorities besides their broken family. 

“I was eight, I don’t know what that has to do with anything,” Tara said, watching as Sam walked away from the door and around to the front of the hospital bed. 

“It has to do with it,” Sam said. Tara’s face went from one of confusion to one of caution, she didn’t know what Sam was about to tell her, but she knew it wasn’t anything good. “Do you remember how mom used to keep those boxes up in the attic?” Tara didn’t nod or anything, she still wasn’t sure where Sam was going with this. “Well, I was up there once, when I was thirteen, looking for Christmas presents. And I found these old diaries she kept from high school.” 

“Sam, what does-”  

“Please, I just-I have to do this.” Tara’s eyes fell, she didn’t know what Sam was about to tell her, but she knew she didn’t want to know. “So, I found these old diaries and I knew it was wrong, but I read some anyway because mom got pregnant with me in high school,” Sam shrugged, giving a sad smile at the memory. 

“And I thought it’d be cool to see how her and dad got together. How romantic it must have been,” she gave a small chuckle. “So, I read some,” her face fell again. “Only it wasn’t romantic. Mom was dating dad, but she was in love with this other guy, and he got her pregnant.” Tara’s eyes widened at this information, having an idea of where this was going now. “She told dad it was his and that’s why he proposed senior year.” 

“Sam what are you talking about?” Tara couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She didn’t know why Sam had to drop all this on her now, she already knew their family was messed up, she still didn’t see what that had to do with their current issue though. 

“And I’m sitting there in this attic and I’m thirteen,” Sam continued, completely ignoring Tara’s question. “And I just found out that my dad isn’t my dad.” Tara looked at her sister with shock, she couldn’t imagine Sam going through that at such a young age, at any age, she never knew anything like this had been going on, she was only eight at the time. 

“So, I go find mom in her bedroom and I’m screaming at her and shoving this diary in her face, and I didn’t even realize,” Sam shook her head at the memory. “That dad was standing right behind me.” Sam’s eyes began to fill with tears and Tara waited for Sam to confirm what she assumed. “He didn’t know. He found out right then from me.” Sam nodded, trying to keep herself together. “He left that night. He left because of me.” 

Tara shook her head. “No,” she whispered. She needed Sam to understand that she wasn’t the reason their dad left. Sam might have been the reason their dad found out their mom lied to him, but she certainly wasn’t the reason he left. Their mom cheated on their dad and then lied to him about it, that wasn’t on Sam, that was all on their mom. 

“Mom never forgave me,” Sam was quietly sobbing but still trying to keep herself together. “And she made me promise to never tell you because you were so young. And that’s why I changed,” Sam walked around the bed to be at Tara’s side, kneeling down so she was at eye level. 

“And I got distant and weird with you,” Sam continued sobbing as she got further into her explanation, Tara had never seen her sister that upset. “And I went out and started doing every drug I could get my hands on until I couldn’t take it anymore and I left town.” Tara began shifting in her bed, this was all so much to take in and she still wasn’t sure how this related to a psycho trying to kill them. 

“I just couldn’t be around you anymore Tara,” Sam admitted quietly. Tara stopped moving at that, she didn’t know why their father not being Sam’s birth father made Sam not want to be around her anymore, they were still sisters it wasn’t like it changed anything for Tara, it wouldn’t have changed anything for her back then, she still loved Sam. 

“Not only because I destroyed our family that night,” Sam continued. “But because those diaries told me who my real father was.” Tara’s eyes widened as she waited for Sam to say what she was about to say next. “It was Billy Loomis.” Tara turned her head; Billy Loomis was Sam’s father. Billy Loomis was one of the original killers, he was the mastermind that started it all. Sam’s relation to him was the reason Tara got attacked. 

“And somebody knows, and I think that’s why you got hurt,” Sam confirmed it, someone knew she was the daughter of a serial killer and now these new psychos were coming after Tara because she was Sam’s sister. “And I’m so fucking sorry that I never told you and that I ran away. I’m so sorry-” 

“Get out,” Tara said, cutting Sam’s apology off. 

“Tara,” Sam begged. 

“You’re gone for five years. Five whole years,” Tara’s voice got louder. “And then I get stabbed, and you want to come back, and you want to drop all this shit on me?” Tara ignored the tears beginning to fill her eyes. 

She couldn’t believe it, she was so happy to have her sister back, but the truth was Sam didn’t come back because she wanted to or because she cared, she came back because she felt guilty. Tara was attacked because some psycho was inspired by Sam’s birth father and was trying to send her a message and now Sam felt guilty. 

“No,” Sam shook her head. “I swear I thought I was protecting you.” 

“Protecting me from what?” Tara yelled. “The truth?” Tara shook her head. She didn’t care who Sam’s real father was, Sam was her sister and that was all that mattered to her, but it didn’t seem to matter to Sam. 

“No, no, I,” Sam shook her head, clearly trying to gather her thoughts. 

“Sam.” 

“Please, Tara.” 

“Sam, I need you to get the fuck out.” Tara didn’t want to be harsh, but she couldn’t deal with all this now, she couldn’t deal with it when Sam was right there. 

“I’m so sorry,” Sam said again, still trying to apologize. 

“Sam,” Tara said much harsher than before. 

“Please,” Sam said desperately one more time. 

“Get the fuck out!” It wasn’t her first choice, but Sam clearly wasn’t responding to her attempt at asking nicely. 

Sam was taken back by her harshness, anymore apologies died on her lips, and she sat back. Tara tried to ignore the way Sam was crying as she got up, seeming to finally listen to her. A few seconds after she yelled at Sam the door swung open and Tara saw you standing there, your eyes instantly on hers, silently asking if she was okay. Your eyes then went to Sam, though there was no softness like when you looked at Tara. You stepped aside but kept your hand on the door, holding it open for Sam. You didn’t say anything but if Sam hadn’t gotten up from her chair and rushed out the room right then, Tara was sure you would have tried forcibly removing her. 

You let the door swing close behind Sam and instantly went to Tara’s side, taking the spot Sam had just been. “What happened?” you reached up, brushing a few strands of hair out of Tara’s face. She looked over at you, her tears finally threatening to fall. “Are you okay?” 

Tara shook her head. You looked back at the door Sam had just left out of. “You don’t have to tell me anything,” you said. “Just let me know what I can do.” 

Tara smiled, lightly laughing as she brought her one good hand up to wipe away her tears. It wasn’t even nine in the morning, and you had already found a dead body, been questioned by the police, and now you were trying to comfort Tara, even if you didn’t know why. Tara wouldn’t need to tell you anything that was said and you’d still do whatever she asked. Tara was sure she could ask you to kick Sam’s ass and not let her back in the room and you’d do it, you’d probably be confused but you still wouldn’t press her for answers. 

“Sam’s dad,” Tara rasped out. You said she didn’t need to tell you, but she didn’t want to lie to you, you needed to know. She was attacked and now you and all her friends were most likely in danger because of this. “Sam’s dad is Billy Loomis.” 

Your eyes widened; Tara had never seen your face go so white. “Wha-How?” you shook your head. 

“Guess, mom cheated on dad back in high school,” Tara said bitterly, shaking her head. She couldn’t be surprised; this was just typical of their mother. Before her dad left, everything had seemed fine but that was probably because her mom got everything she wanted, she wasn’t the girl who had a child with a murderer, because she lied, she had the picture-perfect life, on the outside at least. 

“I’m sorry,” you continued to gently run your fingers through Tara’s hair. 

“It’s why my dad left.” Tara shook her head, their mom lied to him, and in turn he abandoned all of them. He might not have been Sam’s birth father, but he raised her, Tara didn’t get how he could just walk away from Sam after being her dad for thirteen years. Tara was his biological daughter and he abandoned her as well. “It’s why Sam left. It’s why-” 

“It’s why you were attacked,” you cut her off. Tara had never seen such anger burning behind your eyes. 

“It’s not Sam’s fault.” You looked away from her, she could see your jaw clenched as your glare burned a hole through the door. “It’s not her fault.” You looked back at her, nodding until you finally unclenched your jaw. Tara was pissed at Sam, but she didn’t blame her for being the reason she got attacked. “Whoever’s doing all this knows though.” 

You nodded. “So, what next?” you sighed. “If they knew the truth, then attacking you wasn’t a mistake.” 

“It was probably to lure Sam back to town.” Tara looked down, she hadn’t even thought of that before, targeting her to get to Sam made sense, Tara was the only thing that could bring Sam back to town. “Which means they left me alive on purpose.” 

Her eyes widened and began filling with tears, the only reason she was alive was because that’s what Ghostface wanted. She didn’t survive because she was strong or because the police arrived. Ghostface toyed with her, he hurt her, and he wanted her to make her think she was going to die, only to let her live. The only reason she was alive was because Ghostface allowed it. 

“Hey,” you whispered softly, drawing Tara back out of her head. “None of that.” You used your thumb to gently wipe away her tears. “You’re alive and that’s all that matters.” 

The two of you had a few more minutes of peaceful silence before someone knocked on the door, followed by the deputy watching over Tara entering the room. The deputy held the door open for Tara’s doctor to enter as well, who was rolling in a wheelchair. 

“We cleared a floor,” the deputy said, resting his hands on his belt. “It will just be you, me, and an officer near the elevator. Any nurses or doctors will only come up if needed and of course those you’ve authorized,” he gestured towards you. 

“Thank you,” Tara said. 

The doctor pushed the wheelchair closer to the bed and locked it in place. You gently put Tara’s good arm around you while the doctor had her tuck in the injured arm. Working in sync, you and the doctor lifted her up and helped her to the wheelchair. The doctor had it setup so Tara’s leg was propped up. 

“I got it,” you said, taking the doctor’s place behind the wheelchair. 

Tara could only look at her surroundings as you pushed her in the wheelchair, following the officer to her new room. It was a short elevator ride, and the doctor was right behind them, helping Tara get settled once she was in the room. The room was definitely an upgrade, there was only one bed this time and it was a bit bigger. The officer smiled, giving her a small wave before he stepped back outside to take his post. 

“Are you okay?” Tara asked, her eyes followed you as you looked around her new room, giving a nod of approval. 

“I’m fine,” you said, moving to sit by her side. “What about you? I know you don’t blame Sam but that couldn’t have been easy to hear.” 

Tara shrugged, she shook her head, she couldn’t even process what Sam told her. She’d take time to process that their mom cheated on their dad and that Sam’s biological father was a serial killer after the whole Ghostface thing was settled, assuming she and everyone else made it out alive. 

“It wasn’t,” Tara admitted. “But I’m not the one who saw someone killed earlier.” 

Your eyes fell, you reached out slowly intertwining your hand with hers. “I didn’t see him get killed,” you mumbled. 

“You saw him die.” You gripped Tara’s hand a bit tighter and started rubbing circles on the back of her hand with your thumb. Tara learned early on in your relationship that it was something you did to comfort yourself when you were feeling anxious. “That’s not much of a difference.” 

“I didn’t even like the guy,” you whispered, wiping your eyes with your other hand. “But he died alone, in the dirt, outside a fucking bar.” You looked up at Tara and she could see how red your eyes were already. “Choking on his own blood.” You shook your head. Tara’s own eyes began to fill with tears, she couldn’t imagine seeing that in person, to literally have to watch someone’s life leave their eyes. “Nobody deserves that.” 

“I’m sorry,” Tara whispered. “I never should have made you go to work.” 

You broke out into a laugh, even through your tears you smiled. Tara gave a small smile at her joke. “You’re right,” you nodded. “It really is all your fault.” 

Tara took her hand out of yours but only so she could lightly slap you. “Asshole.” 

You were quick to snatch her hand back. “We’re going to get through this,” you said softly, tilting your head as you stared into her eyes. Tara had never felt more love than when you looked at her, you were her world and with one look she could tell she was yours. “I love you.” 

“I love you too,” Tara whispered. “How did I get so lucky?” she truly didn’t get it, her dad left, her sister left, her mom might as well have left, but somehow, she found you through it all. 

“You have amazing taste.” 

Tara rolled her eyes, shaking her head. “You’re such an ass.” You only chuckled at her response. “Now, come here.” A smile broke out across your face, and you didn’t hesitate to get up from your seat. 

You were gentle as you put your hand over Tara, careful not to actually touch her. Tara knew you were being careful of her injuries, but she really just wanted to grab you and kiss you quickly. Tara decided you were taking too long, so when you were hovering over her, she just leaned up and stole her kiss. 

You broke the kiss a second later to laugh at her. “Impatient,” you mumbled against her lips before leaning back down, connecting them again. 

A couple hours later Tara was sitting comfortable in her hospital bed with you by her side. She had turned on the TV, flipping the channel until she found something that you both enjoyed and would be good to fill the silence. Her attention was brought away from the TV by her phone’s incessant buzzing. Tara finally rolled her eyes and picked up the phone, expecting it to be Sam asking her when she was allowed to come back. Tara furrowed her brow when she saw it was from Mindy. 

“What?” you asked. “Who is it?” 

“Mindy,” Tara mumbled, shaking her head as she read through Mindy’s texts. 

“Are they stopping by? Did something else happen?” 

Tara shook her head. “Everyone’s gathering at her and Chad’s to go over suspects.” Tara glanced at you, catching you roll your eyes. “She wants you there.” 

“No,” you shook your head. 

“Just go.” 

“Why? They’re your friends.” Tara glared at you. “I don’t want to leave you here alone.” 

“Deputy Vincent is right outside.” You gave her an unimpressed look. “Judy made sure I’m on a secure floor, there’s a deputy outside my door, and one down the hall.” Tara smiled when she heard you let out a little huff. “I’ll be fine for an hour or two on my own.” 

“I don’t like this.” 

“If it’s someone we know then you’ll all be in one place anyway.” You scoffed at that. Tara needed to reevaluate how she could convince you she would be fine. “It will give you the chance to change,” she looked you up and down. “And maybe shower?” 

“Are you saying I smell?” you leaned back, holding a hand to your heart. 

Tara wrinkled her nose. You didn’t smell but she knew since she was attacked the only places you had been was the hospital, your job, and the police station. She might not have been able to literally smell you, but she wouldn’t prevent you from taking a shower. 

“You still have blood on you,” she pointed out. You let out a sigh, but Tara knew she had won. “Maybe you can learn something useful, Mindy has seen all these movies before.” 

“We’re not in a fucking movie.” 

“Please,” Tara begged. “I’ll text you every ten minutes.” 

“Promise?” 

“I was joking,” she chuckled. “But if that will give you peace of mind then yes.” 

“Fine,” you sighed, standing up from your chair. Tara smiled, she didn’t know why you tried arguing with her, you both knew you’d cave one way or another. “But only because I need a new shirt.” 

“Thank you,” Tara smiled up at you, happy to know she got her way, like always with you. 

You rolled your eyes and leaned down, giving her a long kiss. “I’ll be back in one hour,” you whispered as you pulled away. 

“One or two,” Tara shrugged. 

“One.” 

Tara gave you a soft smile and nodded. She might have gotten you to agree to go change and listen to Mindy’s theories on this new Ghostface, but she knew she was at her limit. You would go do those things but would make sure you were back with her within an hour.

[saikira999]

~ Headcanons for twst characters playing Minecraft.

Another parts about:

Idia and Malleus!

Riddle and Leona!

Jade and Floyd!

[Azul]

Headcanon, what if Idia and Yuu somehow convinced Him to play minecraft, Azul...:

1) "Why are there cubes everywhere??? I don’t understand anything...."

2) When he learns that monsters are appearing in the dark, he places two stacks of torches around himself in horror.

3) Crying from the physics of trees.

4) Will try to make a copy of Mostro in Minecraft.

5) He does not like to dig in mines and fight, but prefers to engage in agriculture, construction and trade.

6) He built his own village, with a complex hierarchy, its own economy and an underground mafia, where he keeps all the villagers under iron grip.

7) Every five minutes:

<Octo_businessman> fell from a high place.

<Octo_businessman> tried to swim in lava.

<Octo_businessman> was blown up by creeper.

<Octo_businessman> was drowned.

<Octo_businessman> starved to dead.

8) If one of the players hits or kills an squid in front of Him, He will take it as a personal insult.

9) The only one on the server who goes to bed on time and swears at everyone in the chat, because he cannot miss the night while others are awake.

10) Chief of food, armor and potions (Not for free, of course)...

11) Tries to negotiate with the pillagers.

12) Most likely, his house is either a clumsy box decorated with vines and blue flowers, or a huge penthouse with twenty rooms. There is no middle ground. Also, it seems to me that his house would be somewhere on the beach, or in the middle of the lake.

13) Drowned people are his worst enemies.

14) Makes secret chests with all sorts of treasures that he clearly does not intend to share.

15) Already dug up all the gold and ransacked all the treasuries, while the others fought with the ghasts and withers.

16) He comes into the game the least often, because “I actually have my fill of things to do.”

17) He is afraid of dolphins, because he personally knew real ones and knows that they are not the friendliest guys (No, seriously. Dolphins are assholes. Just Google it).

18) Terrible in PVP and always dies first.

19) He says that He doesn’t care about griefers and considers their tricks to be child’s play, but in reality, he is very offended and complains to Yuu in PM on discord.

20) Likes to play in small groups of 2-3 people and does not like to play alone or with too many players.

(A SMALL UPDATE! Previously, this post was dedicated only to Azul, but I decided to make two characters for each post, for beauty, so I'll add another Lilia from the request here.)

[Lilia]

Lilia has been familiar with Minecraft since the game's inception:

1) "Ha-ha, I love adventures!"

2) Competes with Idia, who spends more time in the game and brazenly takes advantage of the fact that fairies do not need sleep as much as people (even the cursed).

3) Daddy's house is either a cave full of vegetation and bats, or there is none at all, since Lilia prefers to roam the entire server. Usually wanders the world on a fast black horse in leather armor painted green, but often runs on His own two feet.

4) He named His horse Samson.

5) He is constantly accompanied by bats.

6) During His adventures, Lily has found many interesting resources and items, and in order not to carry everything with Him, He makes ingenious warehouses with traps, which the entire server covets.

7) Sometimes takes other players on His campaigns. For example, Malleus, Sebek, Silver, Idia and Yuu.

8) Thunderstorm of PVP. Want to fight Him? Good luck.

9) Seriously... You will need luck VERY much.

10) His favorite biomes are forest ones. He hangs out especially often in Taiga and Tundra.

11) The second admin and dad of the server, who suggested Idia the idea of ​​creating a world for the rest of the Twst guys.

12) The most secretive player on the server after Idia. In most cases, He disappears somewhere far, far away, but occasionally, He can be found bargaining with other players, sitting in a tree, or on a campaign. He also likes to play pranks and make fun of other players.

13) For some reason, all the monsters in the area ignore Him, or quickly run away.

14) Collects records (He especially likes "Ward" and "Pigstep").

15) His favorite soundtracks from the game are "One More Day" and "Firebugs".

16) Lilia has already cleared out all the treasures, sunken ships and pyramids, and in order to further annoy other players, He usually leaves signs next to the empty chests saying “Lilia Vanrouge was here :3”

17) Didn’t go to the End because caught flashbacks because of the dragon.

18) Was the one who informed Malleus that a dragon egg cannot be hatched and raise a baby dragon, and without knowing it, he regrets it.

19) Helped Idia find suitable mods for hatching and taming the dragon :D

20) "Silver, bring Your old man a glass bottle of water..."

...And then He goes off to brew an invisibility potion so he can shoo away and banter other players around with an evil giggle.

If you like My post, please reblog Me! :3

Also, if You want a doodle and headcannons for some other twst character, I will be happy to answer Your requests. They are open :D

[zahri-melitor]

How old are the bats supposed to be?

During which period? There are variations depending on what time period you're reading.

Pre-Crisis? As at COIE, characters are roughly these ages:

Bruce is in his early 30s

Barbara is in her mid 20s

Dick is 19 or just 20 (depends which side of Crisis you put NTT18)

Jason is 13ish years old

Post-Crisis? (1986-2011) This is the clearest and most consistent period, with regular markers of the progress of time. As at Flashpoint, characters are about these ages:-

Bruce is probably 42

Barbara is in her mid-late 20s

Helena B. is in her mid-late 20s

Kate Kane is in her mid-late 20s (at MOST. Her timeline doesn't make sense otherwise)

If JPV was alive, he'd be 25ish

Dick is about 24-25

Cass is 20 years old

Jason is 19 years old

Steph is 18 years old

Tim is 17 years old and probably about to turn 18

Damian is 10 years old

(the middle kids' ages are all based on Tim being close to a birthday. Cass is 6 months older than Jason, Jason's birthday is a month after Tim's. If Tim's a long way from a birthday, Cass may still be 19)

Then we get the New 52 (2011-2016) and everyone's ages are indeterminate but young! This is my best approximation from not enough age markers and the entire period being about a year in-universe.

Bruce is somewhere between 28-32 (deep sigh)

Kate Kane is probably about 28 years old (it depends on how old Bruce is and how old he was when his parents died; she's younger than he is but not by much)

Julia Pennyworth is in her mid 20s

Barbara is 22-23 years old

Dick is 22 years old

Jason is 20-21 years old, and definitely 21 by the end of the period (SIGH)

Luke Fox is about 20 years old

Tim is 16 years old

Cass is an indeterminate teenage age, probably 16-17

Steph is 16 years old

Harper is 16-17 years old

Duke is, you guessed it, 16ish years old

Damian is 10-11 years old

This is why I don't like New 52 ages.

As of Rebirth (2016 to date), the timeline gets about 10-12 years reinserted in it and some sanity in terms of ages and age gaps starts to re-emerge (though it's clumpy and there's a lot of varying indications). At present characters are approximately these ages:-

Bruce is in his mid 40s

Kate Kane sure is An Age. She's probably about 28-30, unless she's in her late 30s/early 40s (look. Kate's age makes absolutely no sense. Do not look at it too closely. Her timeline is not coherent matched against anyone else's, given the requirement she was kicked out of West Point)

Barbara is probably around 30ish

Dick is about 28-30 years old

Jason is probably about 23-25 years old depending on timeline and writing.

Luke Fox? I haven't sussed out what they've done to all the Fox Kid Ages again in the wake of John Ridley's retcons. He appears to be in his 20s right now.

Cass is supposed to be 23-24 years old but may be written anywhere down to 16.

Steph is somewhere between 19-22, depending on if the writers remember she's not 16 today

Tim is probably anywhere between 18/19 (practical lower limit) and 21 years old

Duke is probably still around 17-19 years old

Damian is 14.

This whole section is messy as the only definite age we have at the moment is Damian being 14. It's mostly assumed that ages have returned to the Post-Crisis gaps, except where noted otherwise (Tim probably lost 1-2 years in his age gap to Damian as of Rebirth, as he is definitely 16 years old at the start of Rebirth. Jason seems to have kept a extra year or few in his gap to Tim, rather than it being 2 years)

[stopper-my-heart]

The case of the Blue- and Gold- sequin party people (Heartstopper S1E3)

When I first watched S1E3 ('Kiss'), I thought it was cute that there was a seemingly same-sex couple holding hands and wearing blue and yellow sequined bomber jackets (or teal and gold, more technically) in front of Charlie when he's queuing to go into Harry's party.

Later I noticed 'Blue' and 'Gold' - as I'll refer to them for the purposes of this post - popping up throughout the party and wondered if there was a pattern. Upon further examination, there certainly seems to be..

Here's a list of where we see them, every time (that I noticed) that one or both of them are visible, with timestamps and screenshots.

[5:14-5:30] As mentioned, we first see Gold and Blue holding hands whilst queuing in front of Charlie outside of Harry's party venue.

[6:20-6:21] Blue is then briefly seen dancing while Charlie makes his way across the dance floor looking for Nick.

[6:34-6:38] When Charlie and Nick meet in the middle of the dance floor ("I've been looking for you!"), Gold and Blue slip directly into frame behind them: Gold behind Charlie, Blue behind Nick. (Side note: All 4 are also lined up in front of the spotlight the way that Tara and Darcy are later when they kiss, and there are many precious rainbow lens flares going on between them)

[8:39-11:36, non-inclusive] Blue is intermittently visible sitting on the left throughout Nick's conversation with Tara and then his clash with Harry.

[11:38-11:40] When Nick walks away to find Charlie after calling Harry out on saying something homophobic, Gold is seen seated next to Blue in the wider/zoomed out shot of Harry and the lads.

[14:38-14:39] When making his way across the dance floor looking for Charlie, Nick walks right past Blue.

[14:40] A moment later, from a glimpse of Gold's sleeve on the right, we can tell Nick has walked between Blue and Gold.

[14:46-14:47] And then we get a clearer close-up shot of Blue and Gold dancing together while Nick makes his way past them and farther into the room. Except for parts of Darcy and Tara's dancing/kissing, this is the only shot during this sequence (of Nick looking for Charlie on the dance floor) that picks out people in the crowd and/or is from Nick's POV.

[15:46-15:51] Blue and Gold are dancing behind Darcy and Tara right before their kiss.

[15:54-16:12 (+ 16:27-16:36)] And then especially Blue is visible most of the time Darcy and Tara are kissing.

[16:13-16:15] Gold and Blue are also there in the first view of Nick after he sees Darcy and Tara kiss, with Blue much more visible.

[16:47-16:50] Gold is briefly visible when Nick finally spots Charlie sitting on a(nother) couch.

[17:59-18:02] Nick and Charlie then go past Gold and Blue (who is now visible too) on their way to "somewhere quieter again".

Bonus: As perhaps a callback to the above, in S2E8 ('Perfect'), two of James's friends are wearing sequin gold and dark blue dresses, respectively, at the year 11 prom and dancing next to each other.

I hope you enjoyed this thorough dive into Blue and Gold's presence at Harry's party. I'm sure that there's potential for more nuanced interpretations, but on the relatively straightforward level, I appreciated what seemed to be a (surely) purposeful use of Blue and Gold during these scenes to show support for Nick and Charlie, indicate that their self-growth is progressing and provide reassurance that their romantic interest/relationship will prevail

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

Shadows Entwined: Part 4

BatmanVsTmnt!Leonardo x sidekick!reader

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 / Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Bonus (18+)

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

Donnie and Batgirl makes an anti mutagen, you and Robin are ready to throw each other’s heads around, and Batman has a talk with Leonardo.

Warnings: Spelling.

The reader and the turtles are 19.

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

The look on Alfred’s face when he saw four mutant turtles in the Batcave was priceless. But Alfred being Alfred took a calming breath, mumbling about how he should have known at this point, before asking if Master Wayne wanted dinner for his guests. Alfred offered to cook a gourmet meal, but to his surprise, all four of the turtles wanted pizza. Take out pizza to be preferred. Alfred would never show it on his face, but you knew, he was disgusted.

Alfred left the Batcave to make a phone call to the nearest pizzeria, mumbling something about teenagers.

Michelangelo - who you learned was the youngest out of the turtle brothers - took the opportunity to take a look around Wayne Manor. It didn’t ease you one bit that he took his skateboard along for that tour.

That left you, Batman, Batgirl, Robin and the three remaining turtle brothers in the Batcave. You, Robin and the angry turtle, Raphael, was looking through the computer, teaching the red turtle more about the League Of Assassins. Or at least Robin was doing that. You were too busy, standing off to the side, acting as if you had a lot in your mind. In actuality, you would every now and again throw glances towards Batman and Leonardo as they were training together. But whenever someone looked your way, you would throw your gaze somewhere random, as if you had been looking there the whole time.

That was how you noticed Batgirl and Donatello working at the chemical table, smiling with a few laughs ever once in a while. You couldn’t help but smile. Looks like you weren’t the only one that had a thing for turtle eyes.

“Impressive form”, you heard Batman’s voice, causing you to look in the direction of him and the blue turtle one more time. You had to admit, Leonardo did know how to fight. It was almost irritating how good he was at it. Because somehow he also made it look good. And just the thought of Leonardo looking good fighting was enough to get mildly frustrated at him. Why did he had to have such pretty eyes?!

“Your father taught you well”, Batman said, giving Leo a rare Batman smile. And to your surprise, Leonardo smiled back.

“Thanks”.

You wanted to scream. You did not expect Leonardo’s smile to catch you off guard like that. Especially not in the middle of the Batcave. But as much as your heart was beating inside your chest, no one could see it on your face. Sometimes you actually learned something from Batman’s stoic nature.

You listened as Robin told Raph about his grandfather, Ra’s al Ghul, the Demon’s Head, and as Batgirl told them about the mutagen, forcing your attention away from the turtle, who’s eyes had been invading your thoughts.

“Yeah, Ra’s obviously has plans for the mutagen your Shredder brought into the city”, Batgirl said out loud, still with half of her attention directed towards Donatello.

“Ooze”, the purple turtle corrected her, not moving his eyes from the glass he held in his hands. But upon Batgirl’s silence he looked up. “We call it ooze”.

“Really?” She sounded almost sad. “Argh, I do not like that word. Ooze, gross”.

“Stop whining”, you laughed. “It’s just a word”.

“It may just be a word to you, but to me it makes me want to vomit”. Upon hearing that from Batgirl, Donatello took a small step away from her.

“Right. Shredder gives Ghully the ooze, they build some kind of gizmo, and in return - let me get this straight - Shredder gets… a pit?” Raphael did not seem convinced one bit. You did not blame him. It did sound strange.

“The Lazarus Pit”, Robin said before turning back towards the computer. “It’s how Ra’a al Ghul has survived for centuries. Its magic grants immortality to any who bathe in it”.

You did not expect the look on Raphael’s face. He almost looked scared. Angry, but scared.

“An immortal Shredder?” He thought for a moment. “That would… suck”.

“As much as the words “immortal Shredder” freaks me out, I think Batgirl and I have solved one of our problems”, Donatello said, handing a cylinder of thick yellow liquid to Batgril.

“Yup! With the info Donnie - I can call you that right?”

“By all means”, Donatello said, seemingly as calm as before. You did not buy it. You bet that just like when you looked at Leonardo, his heart was pounding like crazy when Batgirl called him that.

“Cool - that Donnie had on his T-phone, I’ve whipped up a retro mutagen-”.

"Anti ooze”, Donatello said, almost teasingly.

“Not gonna call it that - that will reverse the effect of the… stuff”.

Raphael took a step back from Batgirl as she came closer with the cylinder. “You're gonna wanna get that anti mutagen away from this happily mutated turtle”.

“Don’t worry”, Donatello said, making his way over to the rest of you. “It’ll only work on someone that’s been mutated within the last twelve hours. After that the DNA changes are baked in”.

“Yeah but maybe worry a little ‘cause it’s untested. Right now there’s a - I’m gonna say 40% chance of lethal side effects”, Batgirl said with a strained smile.

“I agree with the turtle. Go stand over there”, Robin said, pointing in your direction. “She could use some anti mutagen anyway”. His annoying little grin showing on his face.

“Demon child”, you snarled. “Maybe you should drink it. With that size you could be a fully mutated bat”.

Raphael almost had to restrain Robin before he could jump on you.

While you and Robin was about to have a sibling brawl in the middle of the Batcave, none of you noticed Leonardo and Batman’s training continuing.

They jumped, punched and dodged, both showing strength and talent. Leonardo grabbed onto Batman’s arm, before rolling back, throwing Batman over him and into the ground. Batman slid across the ground, while Leonardo celebrated with a minor victory; “yes!”

Batman chuckled lightly from the ground. “Where were those moves when we fought before? If you’d focused like that you would have had a chance”.

“A chance?” Leonardo extended a hand to help Batman up. “I won just now”.

“Because you weren’t looking at her”, Batman said, staring directly down at the turtle in front of him.

Leonardo almost choked on his own spit at Batman’s words. Had he been human his face would had been red. Leo turned his gaze and saw you grinning with a small laugh at an angry Robin, who was being as far away from you as possible by Raph and Batgirl. Your laughter rang in his ears and for a second he dared to wonder, if he could get to hear your laugh one more time.

“Leonardo”. Batman’s deep voice almost shocked Leo back to reality. For a split second he had managed to forget where he was and who he was standing in front of. All because you said you liked his eyes…

“(H/N) is not just my sidekick. She is like a daughter to me, and I will not let anything harm her. She has not been trained from birth like her brother, and she is not as old as Batgirl. (H/N) is strong, but she still has a lot to learn in a fight”. Leonardo looked at you one more time, catching you as you were talking to Donnie, telling him something that made Batgirl let go of Robin, leaving Raph struggling to hold the boy still.

Batman rolled his shoulder, feeling the pain that had been there, ever since his fight with the Shredder. The fight that had happened, while you were outside of Wayne Enterprise, watching the turtles fight the Penguin. Leonardo noticed the light pain in Batman’s face, causing him a look of slight concern. “I���m still recovering from whatever Shredder did to me. I’ve never seen an attack like that”.

“It must have been the Sata Oshi strike”, Leonardo said. “It’s a powerful ninja technique that dates back hundreds of years, said to be created by the founders of the Foot Clan. It focuses all the body’s energy into a single blow, and can prove as fatal to its welder as it is to its opponent. Because of that, it’s been lost to history. Only two living ninja masters know how to utilize it to its full power; my father Splinter and the Shredder”.

“Good to know”, Batman said. “Shredder may have ancient ninja moves, but I’ve still got a utility belt”. Leonardo nodded in slight confusion, turning to look at you one more time. You were laughing behind Donatello, who you were using as an unwilling shield to cover you from an agitated Robin, who looked like he was ready to attack. Raphael was shaking his wrist, slightly hurting after Robin’s escape from his grip. Batgirl was looking like she had a great time, watching you with her arms crossed.

“(H/N)! Robin!”, Batman called out, causing the two of you to hold back the attacks you were preparing. “No fighting”.

“Sorry dad”, the two of you said in unisense. Donatello managed to get out of your grip, clutching his bow staff tightly as he walked to Batgril. You and Robin poked your tongues out at each other, before Robin went to Raphael, yelling something about how he hated sisters.

At the sight of you standing alone, looking at the others, Leonardo couldn’t stop himself before he had made his way over to you.

“Hey”, Leo said with a stoic and unreadable face. You almost jumped in surprise. You hadn’t expected Leo to be this close.

“Uh… hey”.

The two of you stood in silence. Leo wondered if it was Batman’s eyes he could feel in the back of his neck, or if he was just imagining it. Leo was searching his brain for words.

“I just wanted to say that you did pretty good back there in the alley”, he finally settled on.

“Pretty good?”, you asked with a crooked smile. “I kicked your butt”.

“Yeah, not a lot of people get to do that”, Leonardo said.

You chuckled lightly at his answer. Leo felt a warm spread inside his chest and a small tug at the side of his lip. It was your turn to feel the warmth inside your chest. Leonardo was giving you a small smile. Your eyes flickered from his lip to his eyes. Those damn eyes.

“You weren’t so bad yourself”, you said, looking away to avoid eye contact.

Leonardo felt something else grow in his chest. Was it pride? Or maybe even satisfaction? Now you were complimenting his fighting skills.

Leo really wanted to answer you. Say something that would make you chuckle again. But he also really wanted to ask you. Did you mean what you said back in the alley? Did you really like his eyes, or did you just try to distract him? The more Leo thought about it, the more he hoped that you meant it.

Leo was just about to ask you when Alfred came down the stairs with a skateboard in one hand and a tight grip on Michelangelo balancing a stack of pizza boxes with the other. Leonardo felt a slight embarrassment wash over him, when he heard Alfred tell Mikey that he was keeping the skateboard, until he learned not to use it in the house. Batman’s house. Your house. But you started laughing light heartedly at the scene of Alfred and Michelangelo coming down stairs. Leonardo felt all embarrassment wash away as he watched you laugh. Leo couldn’t deny that he really liked your laugh. Just as much as you liked his eyes.

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

A/N: The lack of Batman Vs TMNT gif's on the internet is giving me a headache.

[ironychan]

Scary Monsters

@dysphoria-sweatshirt @30spiders @sweatersexual @angrylittlesliceofpizza @writer652

Part 1/? - Rocco’s Closet

Part 2/? - School for Monsters

Part 3/? - The Waternoose Family

Part 4/? - The Terrifying Humans

Part 5/? - Hiding Places

Part 6/? - Nobody’s Fault

Part 7/? - Edge of Disaster

Part 8/? - Caged Monsters

Part 9/? - The Journey Home

Part 10/? - Portorosso

Part 11/? - A New Family

Part 12/? - More Obstacles

Part 13/? - Out and About in Genova

As a note, both San Francesco di Paola and the Palazzo Spinola are real places in Genoa, and if you ever visit they're worth a stop. Also check out the aquarium, which not only has adorable catsharks but is also where the world premier of Luca was held!

---

Giulia started to run to the window for a look, but her mother grabbed her and held her back.

"Don't!" Helena exclaimed. "There's broken glass on the floor, and we're all in our bare feet!"

Giulia growled in frustration. "Get dressed, ragazzi," she ordered, pointing a finger at the boys. "We've gotta find him!"

"Where's he gonna go?" Luca asked, as they ran back to their own room to get their things. "He doesn't know where anything is in Genova, and I don't think his kind of monster has that extra sense where they can find their way back to places. The first time we took him through town he was in the pram and could barely see, and the second time he was in the suitcase!"

"He can't even ask anybody for help," Alberto agreed. "Anyone who sees him is going to freak out."

"Then he can't go far!" said Giulia firmly. She opened a dresser drawer and started pulling clothing out. "We'll find him. If he's smart, he'll stick to the roofs."

"I'm not sure he's smart," Alberto said cynically.

Somewhere outside, a dog began to bark. Luca lit up.

"I've got an idea!" he declared.

Helena put her shoes on and set to work cleaning up the remains of the broken window, while the kids got dressed and went straight to the neighbour's home where Helena had dropped off Nerone the dog. Giulia knocked hard on the door and called out.

"Signor Traverso! It's Giulia!"

After a few seconds they heard stumbling footsteps and the bolt slid back. The door cracked open, and Signor Traverso, a tall, skinny man whose face was mostly moustache, blinked down at them. "What on earth are you doing here at this hour?" he asked through a yawn.

"We're here to pick up Nerone!" Giulia replied, as if this were a perfectly normal thing to be doing after midnight. The boys on either side of her nodded.

Signor Traverso blinked sleepily. "What? Now? It's..." he glanced at his wrist, but was not wearing a watch. A moment later, however, a clock somewhere nearby chimed twice. "It's two in the morning."

"Yep! Right now." Giulia nodded and smiled, making it silently clear that she would not explain.

Signor Traverso must have been too tired to argue about it. He shut the door again, and came back a few minutes later with the dog on his lead. Nerone himself was perfectly happy to be awake in the middle of the night, perhaps unsurprising for a creature who spent most of his days napping. He trotted up on his short legs, and greeted Luca and Giulia with happy licks. Alberto, of course, he didn't know as well, but he seemed happy enough that this was another friend of his humans. Perhaps Alberto smelled enough like Luca to satisfy him.

"Thank you, Signor Traverso! We owe you one!" Giulia waved cheerfully as they headed for the stairwell.

"Good ni... good night, Signorina Marcovaldo," the man replied, having to pause in the middle of the sentence for another yawn.

On the next landing, Luca pulled out an object he'd brought with him - Harry's little sailor cap. "Okay, Nerone," he said, offering it to the dog. "Smell this."

Nerone leaned towards it, his shiny black nose twitching as he took in the scent. Then he shook his head and backed away, disgusted.

"Yeah, he knows who that belongs to," said Alberto.

"Can you find him for us?" Giulia asked. "Can you find Harry?"

They made to continue down the stairs, and Nerone seemed to get the idea quickly. He began straining at his leash to run ahead, bouncing eagerly down the steps towards the street with his hindquarters sometimes nearly trying to overtake his head on the way. The kids ran to follow him, and he led them back to the street and uphill to the building where Giulia and her mother lived.

The apartments were built around a little courtyard that resembled a medieval cloister, though much smaller, with a covered walkway bordering an open rectangle with potted plants and a tiny fountain. The window in the bathroom looked out over this, which meant that after breaking it, Harry would have climbed out onto the walkway roof, and from there would have been able to drop to ground level. It was easy to spot the broken window. Helena had the light on as she finished cleaning up.

They led the dog to the most likely place where Harry would have landed, and directed him to sniff the ground. Nerone was willing enough to do so, turning in a circle with his nose to the ground and his tail perked up. Whatever he smelled, he didn't seem to like it, and made the same disgusted face as he had at Harry's hat.

"Yes, that's right!" Luca urged. "Now, follow him!"

Nerone started sniffing at one of the potted plants. The kids watched him, waiting for him to do something, but he took his time, moving from one plant to another and stopping to pee on one of the pots.

"What's taking him so long?" Alberto complained.

Helena's face appeared in the window above them. "What are you doing?" she asked.

"We're trying to get Nerone to track him by smell," Luca explained. "Like in the movies."

Helena frowned. "You... you do know that those dogs have to be specially trained for that, right?"

Luca had not, in fact, known that. He looked at his friends to see what they thought. It was pretty clear they were surprised, too.

"Nerone's barely trained to wait five minutes while I open a can of dog food," said Helena.

"Oh." Luca's shoulders slumped. "Sorry," he said, embarrassed. "I thought that was a good idea."

"It sounded like a good idea," Giulia agreed, and grimaced as the sound of more barking came from elsewhere in the city. "The dogs are really upset tonight. It's..." her eyes widened. "Of course!"

Luca had the same thought at the same time. "Nerone doesn't like Harry! Neither did the gelato man's dog!"

"Come on!" said Alberto.

Helena lived in the San Teodoro district. The sound of barking was coming from the south, closer to the harbour. The kids ran through the narrow, twisting streets. Because Genova was so much bigger than Portorosso and the people there worked at less demanding jobs, it had a nightlife that the smaller town lacked. There were a surprising number of people out and about, even as 'late' turned into 'early'. People and cars were in the streets, and the windows were bright in bars and dance clubs.

Nerone didn't know what was going on and certainly had never understood that the kids wanted help finding a missing monster, but he did know they were going for a run and that was one of his favourite things. Furthermore, they were running towards other dogs who were barking up a storm, and that was something he definitely wanted to be apart of. He sprinted along with his tongue hanging out of his mouth, letting out an occasional yap of his own to let the others know he was on his way.

"What is their problem tonight?" a woman asked, as the group ran past a restaurant entrance.

"No idea," said one of the friends with her, lighting a cigarette. "They're sure excited about something."

Nerone barked again as they got closer, and then, from up ahead, they heard a scream.

The kids had been getting tired at this point, but now they found a second wind as they sprinted the last few metres to turn the corner into the piazza in front of San Francesco da Paola. Several dogs were barking at something wrong the buildings, and one unfortunate man who'd been taking his spinone for a late-night walk was holding on to the leash with both hands as it tried to get free to bark at Harry, who was standing in front of the metal doors of the church with his arms crossed over his chest.

"What in god's name are you?" the man with the dog demanded.

"I'm a monster!" snapped Harry, annoyed. "Now, take me to the train station, and I won't hurt you!"

"What are you going to do?" asked the man, "gnaw my ankles?"

Harry responded by hissing and scurrying towards him with his arms held up. The man yelped in terror and ran, dragging his dog behind him even as the animal continued to bark.

"Chicken!" Harry shouted after him.

The kids came running up. Harry looked towards the sound of people approaching, then yelped as he realized these ones were likely to trap him in a suitcase again. He turned to run, but Nerone bit into one of his many legs, prompting a pained screech from Harry, and the boys grabbed his arms while Giulia got the dog off him.

"What do you think you're doing?" asked Alberto.

"Going home!" snapped Harry. "You can't tell me what to do. Neither can any of these humans - they're all too scared to do anything. Ercole was too scared to even tell me not to sleep in his room. He would do anything I told him to! He needed you guys to take me away for him!" he huffed, and then stood up straighter. "These humans are so easy to scare I don't know why my Dad even bothers with the door thing. We could just come right in and scare them all, and they wouldn't dare do anything about it!"

"Yes, they will," Luca insisted.

"They totally will," Alberto agreed.

The bronze doors of the church of San Francesco da Paola and the adjoining mendicant monastery had been closed for the night. Now they opened a crack and a monk in his dark habit stuck his head out. "What is going on out here?" he asked. "You children should be in bed, not roaming the streets."

"Shut up!" Harry said, and spun around to snarl at the man.

The monk stared, then made the sign of the cross and slammed the door again.

"See?" Harry turned back to the other kids. "Just because you're not scary enough to make them do what you want..." he began.

Then they heard a renewal of barking. A light came on in a building across the piazza, and a voice shouted, "in front of San Francesco!"

"Come on!" Alberto tugged on Harry's arm. "We gotta go!"

"No!" snarled Harry. "Watch - they'll do whatever I want!"

The man with the spinone appeared around the corner again, his shaggy black and grey dog barking excitedly as it pointed its nose towards Harry. "There!" he shouted.

A policeman was the next to step out, and by he light of the streetlamps the kids could see a half-a-dozen other people behind him, men and women both. Some of these gasped at the sight of Harry, while one woman exclaimed, "my God! What is it?"

The policeman put his whistle in his mouth and blew it to summon help. "You kids!" the policeman pointed. "Get away from that thing!"

"Wait!" Luca held up his hands. "We can explain!"

Harry pushed past him. "Everybody!" he addressed the gathered humans. "My name is Harry Waternoose and I'm..."

The policeman stepped forward and kicked Harry in the face.

This was a shock to the kids, but to nobody moreso than Harry himself, who staggered backwards with his hands over his bloodied nose. "Who do you think you..." he began, then had to duck as the policeman swung at him again.

Behind him, the doors of San Francesco opened again, and half a dozen monks came out, carrying bibles, crosses, and censures - and two carrying the tall metal candelabras that were used to light the church for night services. These were over six feet tall and well able to be used as weapons. The abbot, marked out by his broad black hat, strode towards Harry with a cross held out, repeating a prayer.

Harry didn't know what any of that meant. He backed away from it, but that brought him closer to the policeman, who had his truncheon out. Two more police, another man and a woman, had arrived, and various other people were gathering with improvised weapons. He looked around. The piazza was shaped like a triangle, with the wide end towards the north. There was another road there, leading uphill - the one Luca, Alberto, and Giulia had come down. Harry started to head towards them, but then there was another chorus of barking dogs.

The kids looked back. Another policeman was coming from that way, with a couple more people behind him. There was now only one way to go, and that was south, where a brick path wound its way down a very steep hill towards the harbour.

Giulia knew Genova well enough to know, however, that the winding road wasn't the only way down. She rolled up her sleeves, transferring Nerone's leash from hand to hand as she did.

By now it had gotten through to Harry that he was in terrible trouble. He hunkered down in the middle of the piazza and covered his head as people got closer.

"Don't hurt me!" he begged. "I'm sorry! Don't hurt me!"

"Grab him and then follow me," Giulia ordered, and took off for the path.

The boys dived on Harry. Alberto took the monster boy’s left arm and Luca his right, and then they just kept going, dragging him past the startled and shouting people and the policeman ordering them to stop. They followed Giulia as she passed by the gates of the walled garden at the south end of the monastery and rounded the corner. The path continued there, turning right to hug the side of the steep hill, but Giulia didn’t go that way. Instead, she and Nerone ran up to a green wooden door in the wall on the left side. Giulia threw herself against this and it burst open, revealing a steep dirt track that went directly down through the trees, bypassing the winding road.

The boys dashed through, Harry scuttling as hard as he could to keep up with them, and Giulia slammed the gate behind them. The path was not an easy one for people in a hurry, and the group ended up doing more sliding than running. The main route went right, to join back up at the road with another door, but Giulia turned left and went through the trees. This wasn’t much easier, but at least by holding on to branches and shrubs they could keep from falling down.

The trail brought them between a pair of apartment buildings and into a small garden, divided from the road by a tall fence. Alberto, Luca, and Harry climbed over, and Giulia hefted the dog over the top for Alberto to catch. Then she scaled it like a lizard on a wall and jumped down the other side, and all of them, including Nerone, were able to stop and catch their breath.

“We can’t stay too long,” Giulia cautioned. “They’ll figure out where we went eventually.”

The sound of voices shouting and more barking dogs told the boys that she was right, but they spent a few more moments leaning on the fence, breathing hard and trying to swallow the metallic taste of exertion in their mouths. Harry was in the worst shape of all, holding on to the fence with both hands as he panted.

“They weren’t afraid of me,” he whimpered finally.

Giulia rolled her eyes, but then she reached out and patted his back. “Yes, they were,” she said. “That was the problem – they were scared to death. When humans are scared of something and it’s just one or two of us, we run away, but when there’s more, we get together to hurt it before it can hurt us.

Luca nodded. “That’s what happened to us, too. We got rained on in front of the whole town, and if it hadn’t been for Giulia and her dad I dunno what would have happened.”

“Yeah, we never even threatened them or anything,” Alberto agreed. “Unlike some people.”

“What did Giulia and her dad do?” asked Harry. “Did they fight them?” He looked both hopeful that this was the case and skeptical that it could be.

“No,” said Luca at once. “They just reminded everybody that we’d been there all along and never tried to hurt them.”

“Although Massimo would have fought them all if he had to!” Alberto said proudly.

“So why didn’t you just tell all those humans I wouldn’t hurt them?” Harry asked.

“They wouldn’t have listened. They don’t know us,” Giulia pointed out. “Everybody in Portorosso listens to my dad because they’ve known him forever. Genova is too big for that. Nobody here even knows about Luca, except for the teachers and a couple of friends we really trust.”

“Remember Dorotea and her mom?” asked Luca. “They don’t even know.”

“Also, you actually were threatening to hurt people,” Alberto reminded Harry.

Harry hung his head. “No wonder Dad doesn’t want humans to know about us.”

That was a sobering thought. If the parents of the world knew that there really were monsters in their children’s closets, they would probably camp there waiting for them, just like Luca and Alberto had in Rocco’s room... except that the parents would bring harpoons or even guns and that would make everything so much worse. None of the kids had been born yet when the War had happened, but all had heard the way the adults talked about it. Even the sea monsters, who weren’t involved, had been affected by the warships and submarines. Nobody wanted anything like that to ever happen again, and a war across two worlds, between humans and monsters who really had nothing to fight about besides that each found the other frightening, would be both terrible and pointless.

“I wanna go home,” Harry complained.

“Like... home home?” Luca asked cautiously. “Back to your world?”

“Yeah,” Harry said.

Giulia stood up and brushed off her hands on the seat of her shorts. “Let’s go, then.”

There were several close calls as they crept through the narrow streets of the city back up the hill towards Helena’s apartment. Fortunately, Genova was a positive maze of winding medieval streets, and every time they were almost caught, they were able to find a trash bin or a side street where they could crouch in the shadows until danger had passed.

They arrived to find Helena, still in her nightgown and slippers, pacing anxiously in front of the entrance to her building. A man across the street came out the door of his cafe to leave the garbage for pickup, and spared a worried glance for her, but seemed to decide not to intervene. He brushed his hands off and went back inside, locking the door behind him.

Once he was out of sight, the kids hurried out to meet Giulia’s mother, who greeted them all with hugs – even Harry.

“What were you thinking,” she asked him, as she got a hold of the rambunctious dog. Nerone was wagging his tail, not knowing anything about what had just happened except that it had been an unexpected adventure.

Harry didn’t answer.

“Hes’ fine,” said Giulia. “He says he wants to go home now.”

Harry nodded miserably, and Helena patted his shoulder.

“I hope you’ve learned an important lesson, young... monster,” she said.

“Yes, Ma’am,” he replied, cowed.

Upstairs, Helena had cleaned the bathroom floor and taped some plastic up over the window so that the birds and insects couldn’t come inside, so there was nothing more to do but send everybody back to bed. Nobody said very much, although Luca did wonder what would happen if Harry tried to escape again. He probably wouldn’t, but what if his change in demeanour was just an act?

It seemed he needn’t have worried, though. Come morning, Harry was still there, and was still very quiet as he ate his breakfast. They did not discuss what had happened last night. Once the meal was finished, Luca and Alberto helped clean up the dishes, while Giulia and her mother packed up the things they would need for their ruse.

They had decided it would look best if the kids wore school uniforms. Alberto borrowed one of Luca’s, choosing the short-sleeved jacket so it wouldn’t be obvious that his arms were a little too long for it. It was a bit narrow across the chest, too, restricting his movement, but the part he really didn’t like was the necktie.

“You really have to wear this every day?” he grumbled, tugging at it.

“You get used to it,” Luca assured him.

“All right,” said Helena. She was in work clothes – a pair of paint-spattered overalls and a man’s striped shirt, with her hair tied back under a kerchief. “Is everybody ready?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” said Luca. Harry just nodded.

“Let me do the talking,” Helena told them. She unzipped the suitcase for Harry to climb in. “Unless somebody asks you something directly, and even then you can just say you don’t want to talk to strangers if that’ll help. I’m the one who knows the people in there.”

The kids agreed. Harry curled up inside the suitcase without complaint this time, and they trundled their way down the hill and around the harbour to the Palazzo Spinola. Luca had read about this place in a newspaper, and couldn’t resist the urge to talk about what he’d learned to his friends as they wound through the tangle of increasingly dim and claustrophobic streets in the old city centre.

“The building is almost four hundred years old,” he told Alberto. “Like Singora Marcovaldo said, it used to have a third floor, but that got bombed during the war.”

Alberto frowned. “How did they bomb the third floor without getting the ones under it, too?”

“I dunno,” said Luca. “A few years ago, the owners gave the whole thing to the city, along with all the paintings and furniture in it. It used to be somebody’s house, so that somebody probably would have had kids and it makes sense that the monsters would have portals into their closets.”

“Not so loud!” Giulia said, as a woman passed them with a dog on a leash. The dog sniffed at the suitcase, its ears back, but its owner hurried it along.

“Sorry,” Luca said. He leaned down a bit to whisper to the suitcase. “You okay, Harry?”

“Yeah, I’m good,” Harry muttered. “Are we almost there yet?”

“Almost,” said Helena.

The main facade of the palace was on the Piazza di Pellicceria, which was a wide-open public space by the standards of the cramped medieval part of Genova, but tiny to people used to the Piazza Calvino in Portorosso. The main entrance was boarded up and covered with scaffolding for the restoration work, so Helena walked right past it and around the side, to yet another very narrow and dark alleyway that reminded Luca and Alberto of an underwater trench. Buildings rose up like cliffs on either side, and only a few thin shafts of sunshine managed to make their way down through the forest of roofs and chimneys above.

Here was a door with a sign on it that said Avviso: Solo Personale Autorizzato, and a bored-looking security guard standing next to it doing a newspaper puzzle. He looked up and smiled.

“Buongiorno, Signora Marcovaldo,” he said. “I didn’t know you were going to be here today.”

“I called ahead to management,” Helena replied. “Signor Zaccaria said I could bring my daughter and her school friends. They’re supposed to get pictures of a historical landmark this summer, and they’re very excited to see one that nobody else can get into.”

The kids did their best to look enthusiastic.

“Well, be careful,” the guard warned them. “Don’t touch anything. There’s a lot of damage in there – and one of the upstairs rooms is supposed to be haunted!” He winked.

“That’s great!” said Alberto.

“Yeah! Imagine if we get to show the class a real ghost!” Giulia clutched her camera.

“They’re prepared,” Helena told the guard.

The man unlocked the door for them, and they headed inside.

The outside of the Palazzo was fairly drab. Some of the fancy plasterwork had survived the war, but especially around the sides and back there was little to distinguish it from the humbler buildings nearby. Inside, the first floor was being used to store building supplies and old furniture covered in cloth. They passed that by and went up the first flight of stairs.

The second floor had been the Spinola family’s living area at the height of their wealth. It was now dusty and mostly unfurnished, with broken mirrors and missing light fixtures, and in one large room the entire frescoed ceiling had fallen down. People were laying out the bits of plaster on a drop cloth to reassemble the image like a jigsaw puzzle. Yet for all the ruin, it was clear that this building had once been magnificent. There were fancy tiles and marble mosaics on the floor, dozens of hooks on the ways for hanging giant mirrors and paintings, and places for fancy lights and chandeliers. What was left was almost nothing like the old black and white photographs from the newspaper, and yet Luca could see where that grandeur had once been.

Giulia was impressed, too. She raised her camera and began taking pictures.

“This looks like Harry’s place after a tidal wave hit it,” was Alberto’s assessment.

“The haunted one is supposed to be the green room,” said Helena. “It should be through here.”

Like many of the grander buildings in the city, the palazzo was arranged around a small central courtyard, one room leading into another rather than wasting space by having them branch off a hallway. That made it easy to get confused as they seemed to turn corner after corner, but Helena knew where she was going and brought them to a room where the walls were a bright spring green. Much of the paint had now come away from the walls during the bombing, along with the plaster underneath, leaving bare brick walls. What little remained was mostly in the corners and along the street-facing wall. There was no furniture and, more importantly, no sign of a closet.

“Is this it?” asked Alberto, opening the door opposite to the one they’d come in by. This, however, only brought him to the next room over, which had half the floor taken up to replace some damaged joists. The workmen looked up in surprise at this unexpected intrusion.

“Sorry!” said Alberto, and closed the door again.

“Where is it?” asked Luca, worried.

Helena smiled. “The people who lived in this palazzo were worried about looks, not practicalities. Things like closets had to be hidden. She let Harry out of the suitcase, and then went to a corner and used her fingers to brush dust away from a seam in the paint job. About half a metre away was a ring, and when Helena pulled on that, the hidden door opened to reveal...

... the scaffolding outside. It hadn’t been visible from the street, but the outer wall here had partially collapsed, leaving the interior of the closet as a narrow shelf with a wall on the right and the back, and open air on the left.

“Santo Parmigiano!” said Giulia.

Helena quickly closed the door again and looked at Harry. “Ah, does that matter?” she asked.

“Nah,” he shook his head. “There’s ground in our world, so it’s fine.”

“Good to know,” she decided. “So now we just have to wait.”

They made a show of touring the rest of the house, and let the people working there overhear Helena describing the delicate process of restoring things like the broken ceiling fresco. Giulia and Luca pestered the workers with questions, most of which were happily answered, while they left Harry hidden under a cloth in the green room, trying his best to look like a pile of masonry.

At lunch time they had a picnic in the central courtyard, eating sandwiches and drinking lemonade. Then Helena announced it was time to go, and they went around thanking everybody once again, as if they were about to leave. They did not, however, do so. Instead, they went back to the green room and joined Harry in hiding under drop cloths. When the end of the day came, nobody would remember having actually seen them leave, but nor would they remember them being there in the afternoon, and the workers and guards would conclude that their guests must have left hours ago. Nobody would suspect they had any reason to still be hiding inside.

Unfortunately, that meant there was nothing to do in the afternoon but listen to the sounds that echoed inside the building. There were hammering noises from the men replacing the joists next door, and clinks as they began putting the floor tiles back. Voices spoke on the street outside, and at one point somebody tried to bring a dog into the building. The animal must have smelled Harry, because it began barking in a frenzy and had to be dragged back out.

Finally, people began to go home for the evening. The smell of cigarette smoke and the sound of laughter suggested men weren’t working as hard as they had been. The door to the next room opened, and the workers from there came through in a cacophony of tramping boots and loud voices. Maybe some of them noticed that there appeared to be objects in the green room that hadn’t been there before, but if so, they didn’t think it was worth investigating. They went out through the other door, and could be heard descending the stairs.

Even then, it seemed to be forever before Helena became confident that everybody was gone and let them come out from under the cloth. They couldn’t turn any lights on for fear of being noticed, so they just sat in the gathering dark and listened to Harry describe what they were likely to find.

“The research labs will have a bunch of door stations,” he said. “I’ve visited them loads of times with Dad.” His confidence was starting to return now, as the time came closer to return to his own world. “They’ll probably only be using two or three at a time, because they’ll be testing different stuff. You know, one will be opened normally, and then another one they’ll have done something to.”

“They’ll have a control group,” Luca nodded. Another thing he’d learned about in school.

“There’ll be a bunch of scientists,” Harry added, “but I’ll tell them who I am and that I wanna talk to my father, and it’ll be fine. I bet he’s looking for me!” This idea seemed to perk him up even more. “I bet there’s a big reward out for my safe return. I am his only child, after all.”

Alberto wondered... if he’d gone missing, would his father even have bothered to look?”

“Anyway,” Harry added, “as long as you guys are wet, it’ll...” he stopped, frowning.

“Yeah, we know,” Alberto said, rolling his eyes. They’d filled buckets from a sink on the ground floor and were ready to use them. After what had happened last time, they weren’t likely to forget.

“No, I think I heard something, too,” Luca said, and put a finger to his lips. “Alberto, sssh!”

Alberto fell silent, and there were a series of noises from outside – specifically from the other side of the closet door. The kids moved closer to Helena as a series of thumps, creaks, and grunts came closer and closer. Was there something wrong with the scaffolding, perhaps? Or were the monsters getting to work early?

“Are those the sounds the maids hear?” Giulia whispered.

“I don’t know,” Helena replied. “I’ve never heard them myself.”

“Should we look?” asked Luca.

Giulia stood up and got her camera ready. “You open it,” she said. “If it’s something bad, I’ll set off the flash.”

Luca and Alberto stood on either side of the closet door, water buckets ready, and Harry reached to pull the ring. Helena got behind Giulia, ready to grab her daughter and run.

“Good luck, ragazzi,” Helena said.

“Here goes!” Harry announced. He wrenched the door open – only for him, Luca, Alberto, and Giulia all to let out a scream at the sight of something scarier than any eight-metre drop or monster scientist could possibly have been.

It was Daniela Paguro.

[sirenthatmakesyouwantcake]

these are my thoughts on interview with the vampire episode 5 season 2

I've heard a few things about this episode, I've been really wanting to watch it just havent had had the time yet. I've also heard that they don't actually unpack any of it.which seems pretty on brand for them

(6:10) Sometimes, ii think i have bad handwriting, but then there’s daniel’s, which makes my feel a lot better about my own

(7:52) definitely gay (8:11) definitely

This whole interview is just a who can be the sassiest and most insane old gay guy possible

(9:46) daniel is like that one fall out boy song, he spent an entire decade high and doesn't remember any of it (or that he is gay)

(10:04) i like how they had him standing at the window, it's a nice touch

(12:53) if i just found out that vampires are real, i think i would be pretty fucking afraide too

I've been painting my nails while watching and ended up skipping on of my nails

(13:35) that was perfect, it was so close to quoting the book, it was good enough that i even recognised it before i even looked up the first few pages

(16:03) I like this louis more than the other few, he’s so much more fun and happy instead of seeming like he only sort of wanted to be there.

(17:18) it's no wonder he doesn't remember the first interview, he looks like he could barely stand if he wanted to

(22:55) 70’s armand is millennial grey

(24:21) i think someone is a little jealous (another weirdly spelled word) ((25:19) and the other one is schizophrenia), i also think two someones need to go the marriage therapy

(26:16) well that took quite a turn, and i think its shows their relationship well, how even thought why both had just yelled at each other, armand still saved him right away, and then, though i haven't gotten there yet, i assume that armand made him forget how bad it hurt, (38:22), i take parts of that back, armand basically torched him, they really do need therapy, i'm surprised they didn't end up killing each other in the time between the interviews

(29:23) poor daniel got caught in the middle of their messed up relationship

(30:01) for some reason, i thought the guy in the bag was daniel, and somehow he was revived and turned into a vampire, i clearly didn't think this through much because now that i'm thinking about it again, there in no way that would have worked

Armand is supposed to look 17, he looks 20 or so, i know his actor is somewhere in his 20’s and he did play him well, i don't think they could have done the show the same way if he was played by a younger actor.

(38:22) about time

(45:31) louis is quite a jump scare when the rest of your room is dark and quite

(51:01) once again, not talking about the problems

OTHER

I really like how both daniel’s had similar voices, specifically the gravely (i think that's the right word) parts

Conclusion of this episode: maybe all four of them could use some therapy or atleast to talk to each other and work out their problems (the last part doesn't really apply to lestat, he was not part of the sort of ok guys, not good guys, i don't think any of them really qualify as good guys except daniel, he was just caught up in everything)

This episode really put their relationship through it but i think it may have helped parts of it as well, maybe if armand and louis could actually talk they could have a better relationship that isn't just hanging off a cliff

@certainunkownlove2 was telling me about this post and i think all of you need to read it, he is so wonderful for this

Thank you for reading, now it is time for me to rest (literally speaking, it's late and i'm tired)

other episodes

S2E1 S2E2 S2E3 S2E4 S2E6

[oubliette-odette]

The Reluctance of Love Pt. 32

Another beautiful day to talk about gay boys fighting for love, amiright?

Orc Male x Half-Elf Male, Fated Mates, Forbidden Love, Slow Burn Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31 Content Warnings: violence, light torture All orcish is from orcishdictionary.com, created by Matt Vancil.

Pain and panic mixed with elation as Selhar half carried me down the steps. 

Lordhovid could only mean one thing. Drunrag was alive somewhere. He was alive. We were once again being pulled back to one another. I only hoped that Gaius meant what he said that help would be waiting for me at the Soaring Elk. 

My head was hanging, my vision blurred by the sweat that slipped into my eyes. I had no idea where we were, my feet were only as useful as keeping me from falling, but not much else and I could hear Selhar’s grunts as he hoisted me up again. 

“I’m…” I grunted. “I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing.” Selhar snapped. “We’re almost there.”

I licked my lips and tasted salt. My clothes felt heavy and damp on me. I couldn’t help but wonder what Drunrag was going through. Was he safe? Was he able to get to me or was he as helpless as I was?

Selhar’s hold on me went slack and I heard him knock on a door. I lifted my head and saw that we were standing in front of a door on what seemed like a quiet street. 

Moments passed slowly and I gasped for another breath as a wave of heat washed over me.

The door finally opened after what felt like a long time, but only by a small crack.

“Who sent you here?” The voice was low and guarded, but not unkind.

Selhar cleared his throat. “Uh…Gaius Gideon said we could come here if we needed help. My brother…something’s wrong with him. Can you help us?”

The door opened more and I looked up again and locked eyes with bright green eyes, surrounded by a soft, grassy green skin. 

“You’re the Duke’s sons?” They asked, their voice suddenly peaked in interest. “Please, come in, boys.”

As the door opened, we both paused as we saw standing before us was a tall woman with wild auburn curls and the softest shade of green skin. Two small fangs peaked just a bit from her bottom lip. She wavered and placed her hands on her round belly, as she backed away from the door.

We stumbled into the house and were welcomed into a room that smelled like herbs and fresh bread. We both stopped and looked around in awe. The room was large and spacious and had tables situated all around to seat many people. There was a fireplace - something I was quite averse to at that moment - with comfortable soft seats around it. A set of stairs led up to another level and looking up I could see a balcony surrounding the perimeter of the room and doors along the walls.

“What is this place?” Selhar asked. 

The door closed quickly behind us and the woman gingerly walked over to us. “This is the Soaring Elk. It’s a safe home for strangers to Berdusk.” She gestured at one of the tables. “Take a seat and let me look at the young lord.”

Selhar made one final grunt before dragging me to the bench at the table and I leaned back and took a gulp of air. 

“Tell me your names.” She said, looking between us both. 

“I’m Selhar, the middle son.” Selhar placed a hand on his chest.

“Which means you must be Altan.” She said gravely. “I know what ails you then.”

I blinked up at her bright, open eyes. “You’re…”

She smiled shyly, “I’m Del. Gaius Gideon is my husband.”

We both found ourselves with our jaws on the ground before our eyes drifted to her belly. She caught the shift and smiled meekly, there was a twinkle in her eye. Never in all my years did I think Gaius Gideon - the stiff, ever vigilant, always-following-the-rules Gaius Gideion - would be a married man or that his spouse would be an orc woman who looks like the embodiment of spring or even that he would even know how to have a child. The entire idea was preposterous. For the briefest of moments, I believe I forgot that I was experiencing lordhovid.

Del Gideon exuded a warmth that was immediately safe and she reached towards me with an open hand, “May I?” She asked. 

Up close, she smelled like marigolds, and her hands were gentle as she pressed them against my forehead. I took a sharp intake of breath as the heat of her skin burned onto mine. She whispered her apologies before pulling back and looking into my eyes, studying me closely. “You know what this is?” She asked.

I nodded, “Lordhovid.”

Her smile was one of understanding. The horrifying thought that perhaps she and Gaius Gideon had experienced this same thing struck me.

Selhar glanced between the both of us, confusion passing over his face.

“These symptoms are worse than normal.” She said, “I’m not sure my herbs will be enough to sate the fever, but perhaps it will help a little. Selhar, would you kindly follow me into the kitchen?”

Selhar sprung to his feet and eagerly followed her back. I noticed the way his eyes were caught on her. If I hadn’t been going through my own personal crisis, I think I too would have been caught by her beauty. Instead, I hung my head back and sighed. 

Minutes later, Del and Selhar returned with a tray carrying various jars, bowls, and a kettle with warm water.

“This will be unpleasant at first,” She said. “But the herbs must be drunk as a tea.”

I groaned, “No more heat.”

She sighed. “I wish I could do that for you, my lord. Selhar, hold this for me.” She handed my brother a small tea cup and proceeded to measure out various herbs from the jars into the cup. She worked quickly and not a single leaf spilled over the edge of the spoon without her knowledge. She then poured the steaming kettle over top and placed a saucer over top. “We’ll let it steep, but you should drink all of it once it’s ready.” She said. 

“What is lordhovid?” Selhar asked in the silence of waiting.

I couldn’t meet his eyes as Del explained the burning lust between Drunrag and I - the connection that kept us always yearning for one another. 

“Will he be this way forever?” Selhar asked, panicked.

Del shook her head, “Once the bond is made, lordhovid fades.”

“How is the bond made?”

Del hesitated, “It requires…physical intimacy.”

Selhar snapped his attention to me, eyes wide. ‘You haven’t slept with him already?”

I shook my head, exasperated at the timing of this conversation. “We didn’t exactly have the time.”

“You ran away for five days!”

“Drunrag’s…anxious.” I said.

Selhar groaned. “I can’t believe we have to deal with this because the two of you are prudes.” He buried his head in his hands and groaned.

“I’m the one suffering right now.” I said.

Del had the decency to say nothing, but her amusement was clear to anyone who looked. She passed me the teacup and gently coaxed me to bring it to my lips.

The water was positively scorching as it fell into my mouth. I flinched at how the hot liquid flowed like lava, but swallowed the contents as quickly as I could. I fell back, heaving and shaking.

“That’s good. You did well. You should feel the heat recede in a few minutes.”

Selhar watched me closely and Del quietly worked at cleaning up the tray and taking it back to the kitchen. Slowly, I felt my body finally slow and stop shaking and I could start to breathe normally. The heat didn’t leave, it felt like a fever from an illness, but it was bearable. I let out a relieved sigh.

“Better?” Del asked, returning. 

I nodded. “My thanks to you.”

She shook her head, “It’s nothing for friends of Gaius. He speaks very highly of you boys.” She settled down with a new tray, this time with sliced bread and two bowls of stew. “I presume the two of you are hungry?”

Selhar nodded and Del served us both the food. I at first felt reluctant to eat more hot food, but Del’s encouraging smile assured me I wouldn’t suffer this time. There was residual pain from the tea, but over time the warm stew settled in my stomach.

“So, I presume something must have happened to bring you here?” She asked, eyebrows raised.

We both nodded. “My father took things too far.”

She nodded. “Gaius has been waiting for him to make a false move. He was grateful to the both of you for warning him of Duke Hilmar’s plans before he could be caught.”

“Where is he?” I asked. 

“I believe he’s looking for aid to stop the Duke.” Her smile softened, ‘And I believe he was hoping he would find your raebukan while out there.”

“Okay, now what does that mean?” Selhar asked. 

“It means mate.” I said this time. 

“Oh.” he said. “Makes sense.”

“I can still feel him.” I said, placing a hand on my chest. “He’s still out there.”

Del’s eyes widened. “You can sense him?” 

I nodded, “Is that not normal?”

“It’s not unheard of, but it’s certainly not common.” She said, “From what my mother told me, those who can sense their raebukan even across great distances are those who possess the purest, strongest bond. It’s a union chosen by Gruumsh.” She shook her head.

“I can’t imagine the God of the Orcs would choose me to be Drunrag’s soulmate.” I said with a grim laugh. 

“Perhaps…but I’ve never been one to understand any god, really.” she said with a shrug.

“Del.” I said. “Do you know how I might find Commander Gideon? I need him to help me find Drunrag. I can’t do it alone.”

She shook her head, “No, you can’t. If you expect to travel, you’ll need to bring some of the tea with you. It only lasts about six hours.”

I sighed. Complications. Always complications.

She rose, “You’re lucky that I have no other guests right now. Get some rest and we’ll set off in the morning to find Gaius and Drunrag.”

“What?” Selhar and I both exclaimed.

She smiled brightly. “Do you think my pregnancy makes me unable to travel?” she laughed and pointed to her fangs. "Half-orc. Remember? I can take a few bumps.”

Neither of us said anything more. We finished our food and obediently followed Del up the stairs to a room with beds prepared. Del assured me she’d be back with more tea before the morning. 

I laid back on the soft bed. There were many questions unanswered, but something finally felt right leaving the Great Hall and finally going out and looking for Drunrag. Perhaps Selhar was right that we created more problems by waiting to consummate our union, but I couldn’t help but think it was to our benefit that we waited. I could feel him, which meant that I could find him.

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[roppiepop]

Vague Age Swap au WIP

Somewhat prompted by this specific ask!!!

Jason sees Tim's case file for the first time when he's 12.

It passes by as a glimpse while Bruce is combing through possible links between two separate attacks on City Hall, but Jason latches onto it. It's a kid his age between middle-aged crooks, and the idea they're put on the same level rankles something in Jason's gut.

Newly christened Robin-status be damned, he kicks the back of the Batcomputer chair and forces Bruce to turn and face him.

"What the fuck, B?" he exclaims, jabbing a finger at his face. "Are you arresting kids?"

Bruce, for his part, looks perplexed for one moment  before it smooths out to impassivity. "I do not."

Jason takes to the console and switches back to profile he saw. "What's this, then?"

And a twitch of Bruce's brow betrays annoyance, one surprising enough that Jason pauses, head tilted to the side.

"Bruce?"

"I've never arrested him." he says, tone carefully neutral. "He's not linked to any crimes."

Bruce then leans back, allowing Jason to read the file for himself. He takes to it with a gusto, filled with curiosity on what would incite that kind of reaction.

The face that stares back at him is young, in a polished smile the way Jason imagines rich kids are thought to be on their father's knees. The photo itself might have been from a yearbook- at one of those fancy-schmancy schools that got a uniform with a fucking blazer.

With those impressions alone Jason still has no idea why this prissy kid embodying the crust of Gotham elite would be on Bruce's radar.

Curiosity gets the better of him. Jason skips through the personal information to go straight to case notes.

Seen above Club Vesuvius on 11/24

Seen outside container yard unit F302 on 11/17

Seen exiting S.T.A.R Labs on 11/05

Seen at Giordano Botanical Gardens on 11/01

Alleytown sightings on 10/18, 10/19, 10/20, 10/26, and 10/28

Crown point sightings on 10/04, 0/06, 10/10, 10/12, and 10/15

Seen at Trigate bridge on 09/14

And it goes on, and on. Appearances around rogue attacks, on the edge of weapons trades, just on different streets- always linked to one Batman takedown or another.

Jason notices the dates too, never a week without the kid popping up somewhere, listed out months before Bruce even found him. Present but unattached to any of the events he's seen in.

Like a distant spectre following the Bat's every move.

He scrolls further down, to any assessments Bruce might've made on this, because a teenager stalking Batman seems an awful lot like something nefarious building up to chaos, but he's hit with an extra authorization prompt for a code he doesn't have.

Bruce takes over the computer console before Jason can attempt to crack it, minimizing the tab back to the video coverage of Neil Murphy's shirt in a rapidly growing puddle of red.

"Who isthat?"

"Tim Drake." Bruce replies, in a sardonic tone that would irritate him if he bothered to catch the name before.

Jason still lets out a huff. "What's his deal? How is he following you so often?"

That brow of his twitches again, paired with a frown Jason's only seen when someone mentions Nightwing. Fingers tap on the console in a language unknown to the teen. Bruce tersely says, "He knows."

A pause, heartbeat spiking as Jason absorbs what that means. But even then- "Still doesn't explain why he's stalking you."

Bruce's exhale could be a sigh. "Not just me. He has a camera."

"Information broker?"

The frown turns contemplative. "No, not quite."

Then what? Jason's brain tries to piece it together, the image of a figure that knows Bruce's- all- of their identities, actively tails them, and takes photographic evidence of every fight they have. He tries to come up with any logical reason a teenager might do that. Then narrows those down to non-evil purposes. There aren't much.

Is he dangerous? Jason wants to ask. Everything here is a pretty big neon sign to the road of villainy. But Jason is still hung up on the age- this kid looked younger than him for fuck's sake! It doesn't make sense for him to be acting this out alone. And if there is a larger perpetrator behind this- Jason's thoughts go back to the kid's placid blue eyes, the plastic smile and steel posture- what comes out of his mouth becomes. "Is he safe?

It's evidently not the question Bruce expects. Another silence with that constipated frown of his. Jason's feet tap restlessly on the floor in the meantime.

It stops silent with Bruce's pointed stare.

"Stay away from him."

[defire]

Back to the Dregs Part 12

Part 1 Next

Content: end of rape scene, rape aftermath, language, escape attempt, nudity, manhandling

In case you skipped Part 11, Michael was tortured in front of the camera. Morgan couldn't take it and decided to go in without enough backup.

Now Michael is stuck between a rock and a hard place--the Huers are coming for him.

I hope it's not too hard to avoid triggers for you guys. I'm not trying to make it hard to navigate, I just have only ever written in a fast-paced novel fomat.

Story below the cut

"Okay cut it out." Psycho said dismissively.

Michael groaned as spikes of fresh stinging, tearing pain and nausea burst up through him.

"I said get off him!" Psycho shouted, and the rapist froze, then slowly retreated, hands pressing one last time onto Michael's rear as he pushed off him.

Michael groaned at the final stab of pain, then lay there as tears and blood dried on his naked body. His cheek pressed into the wood as his muscles gave in to his exhaustion, face-down in the middle of the room full fo gangsters. His breaths were coming in irregular gasps, his whole body shuddering.

They were talking, but their words didn't quite make sense.

"You wanna finish, go fuck a pedo," Psycho was saying.

Something about Chris not being here today.

"Then who's gonna..."

"Well we can't leave him there, we gotta move."

"I'll..."

Michael felt a hand on his shoulder and grunted, ready for more pain.

"Mikey, get up." Jordie patted his arm roughly.

"No..." Michael groaned, trying to move. His limbs didn't want to cooperate.

They were as heavy as if someone was still sitting on them.

"I'm not gonna hurt you." Jordie said "...As long as you get up."

"T-trying..." Michael moaned. He felt so sharp and clear in his head, the stinging and pulsing pain seeming to clarify his thoguhts. So why were his words coming out like that? Why did it sound like he was wheezing insane little sobs? Did that body on the floor even belong to him?

There was a whine from the hurt boy's lips as Jordie stooped and pulled him up a bit.

Michael cooperated, trying to get his knees up under him. The last thing he wanted was to piss off Jordie, but he was so tired.

"Calm down and stand up on my count." Jordie grunted, looping Michael's arm over his shoulder. "One, two, three--" And they hefted together, Michael with a shuddering sob as his swollen legs took the weight.

He realized vaguely that the rest of the gang seemed to be trying to move, fix things up, or something, but there was a heaviness about them. Combine their dragging looks with the comment about pedos, and Michael figured that this kind of thing wasn't a common occurrence in this gang.

He thought that all between step five and step six out of the twenty-five or so to the door of his cell.

As Jordie walked him there, the relief that he wasn't being dragged elsewhere, that he was going to get to lie on something soft and stop being harrassed for even a few minutes was so enticing, he wanted to cry.

Somewhere in his head he was cursing himself for it. He shouldn't be grateful that they were going to stop abusing him. That is, once Jordie was done with him.

Michael heard the cell door close as Jordie lugged most of his bodyweight to the bed and dumped him onto it, shoving up his legs like a couple of logs.

"...Look, I don't..." Jordie was just standing there.

Michael eyed him, fingers tightly gripping the blanket as he lay there on his stomach. He couldn't quite get what motivated Jrdie to smack him around like he did. So he wasn't sure how to read his mood.

Michael tried to say something, but what came out was just a frail grunt.

"Trying to provoke me, huh?"

A tear slipped down Michael's cheek, which Jordie noticed with a sharp look.

"K--I'm kidding, man." Jordie slapped his shoulder blade as if they were friends.

Michael hissed in pain; he'd struck a bruise.

"Fuck, oops." Jordie rubbed his nose.

Why was he being so wierd, Michael wondered.

"I didn't... know it would be like that." Jordie said finally, wiht a furtive glance at Michael's hollow expression, smushed into the blanket. "For what it's worth, I... didn't know." He repeated.

Was he... trying to apologize, after a fashion?

"I don't..." Michael licked his lips. "I don't know what to do. What do you want..."

"I wouldn't have done... That." Jordie said. "I mean like... Are you okay? ...Fuck, don't answer that."

Michael didn't. He didn't trust this mood of Jordie's.

Jordie suddenly huffed and straightened, and Michael gritted his teeth as he saw Jordie's hand coming down toward his head. But instead of slapping him, the hand fell lightly on the back of his head.

Then just as suddenly, he jerked his hand away and left Michael alone.

Alone. Finally. What had happened? The cruelty of the last half hour sizzled up into his brain with hot blood rushing past his ears. The humiliation of forced nakedness in front of the entire fucking gang. The agony of the makeshift whip beating down his back and legs. And whatever ugly black hole of sensation that... that...

He pulled the pillow up under his face with a shudder, clenched his teeth, and then screamed.

Over, and over, and over. He screamed till each gasp in between whistled in his vocal cords, rage and tears squeezing out, muffled by the pillow.

He tried to stop. And then his mind would scramble to find a word that was sufficiently enraging, horrifying enough to describe it, and he would scream again.

The word "rape" was outrageously meager for what it really was.

He was out of breath, trembling, his back killing him and dripping again from the freshly-aggravated wounds because of his shrieks. Another scream cinched up his throat but he pushed back. He didn't have the energy. He needed to save it; he needed to stop.

He whimpered as he managed to lift his upper body, looking behind him at the door, wondering if Chris was going to come in. Then his eyes widened. Jordie had forgotten to close the door.

"Don't do this, Morgan." Al followed him as he loaded himself up with weapons. Not too heavy for mobility, but plenty of backup power. Better to draw a second gun than have to stop, pop the magazine out, swap it, shove it in, and chamber a cartridge before you can fire again. That would be enough time to get shot a few times.

Morgan passed out more weapons from his collection to the new faces in the group, and kept walking down the corridor.

"We bust straight into the shop from Elm." He said. "Al and Paintjob, come in from the main entrance. Make sure to hide that kevlar. If one of you goes down, you need to run."

He continued briefing the team as they checked their weapons on the way through the alley.

Morgan Huer was not known to be this brazen. But those damn Westside guys had overstepped their bounds, and it was damn well time to put them in their place.

"Wait." Morgan grabbed Al and pulled her up to keep pace with him. "Where's Davie?"

There was a silence.

"He told me he couldn't, sir," Al said.

"He couldn't make it." Morgan repeated, daring Alvie to repeat that.

"He said his wife went into labor."

"His wife! I thought he was divorced."

"...He doesn't know we know that, sir." Al said. "I'm sorry, sir. I think he's--"

"He's a rat!" Morgan spat, rage flaming in his mouth as he let loose a string of curses. "--two-faced bastard! I'll fucking kill him!" He growled.

"But that means pigs." Al lowered her voice.

"I know." Morgan fumed.

"We... sir..."

Morgan turned his scowl on her as the Huers reached a crosswalk.

"Got something to say, Alvie?" He used her full name for more effect.

Alvie thought so long they were halfway across the next block of sidewalk before she said,

"No, sir, I don't."

"Good." Morgan said. "Let's go."

Michael stared out of the corner of his eye at the cracked-open door.

Was it a trap?

He rubbed his swollen eyes, clenching his fists and trying to straighten out his mind enough to think. He could barely even stand... How could he escape anyway?

He could hear them better outside now, though.

"Welcome girls," Someone said.

Up until now, the Westsiders had been known as a guys-only gang. Had they brought their girls? Were they that desperate?

There was a loud crack outside, then the sound of toppling wood.

"Come on!" Psycho shouted above the other voices. "Let's tear down those supports!"

His voice was joined by a cheer that sounded like fifty or so people. Not the thirty that had accumulated by the time Michael was dragged away. Something big was going down.

They sounded awfully certain that the Huers were coming.

Michael strained to move his naked body. He whimpered as he got his legs up, then pushed himself up to sitting on his bloody haunches with a hissing moan.

"Fuck... Everything hurts."

It was the thought of the Huers that made him shudder, grit his teeth and lower a leg onto the floor. His legs shook under his weight, and he paused, trying to remember how to get out, and if he'd have to go through anywhere without a wall or rail to lean on.

Morgan Huer was coming.

And Michael was not planning on being "rescued".

He put his hands on the bed and got his other leg onto the ground.

He studied the blanket.

He had to cover his arms, and preferably his crotch. He couldn't go out like this. He caught the words,

"It's both of them!" And his heart skipped a beat.

What if Joseph Huer himself was out? Had he escaped prison? Was that what they meant by 'both of them'? It had to be.

He couldn't tell if he was just having a paranoid fear reaction, or if it really made sense to assume it. But when it came to the Huers, "assume the worst" was a trusty standby.

He ripped the blanket off the bed and tossed it over his shoulders, wincing at the contact with his wounds.

The shakiness was easing, but the weakness and fatigue seemed to be onlly getting worse.

As he forced himself to move, he could hear Mr. Huer's voice in his memories, right at his back, it seemed.

"Get off the floor!" He had ordered. "You're a Huer! Huer's don't give up!"

Michael wanted to give up then. He'd fought for the right to give up. And now he couldn't let himself, because that man's voice was nipping at his heels.

As his arms pushed against the walls for support, his head was getting fuzzier, feverish.

He had the feeling of a gun in his hands as he touched the doorknob, finger tracing over the latch. They were fighting outside, their noises just louder than the roaring of blood in his own head. There were gunshots, kind of a lot.

And now he heard the sound of a police megaphone saying something about the building being surrounded.

Michael hoped that wasn't a bluff.

He peeked out. There were several gang members outside. They were facing the entryways with guns drawn, backing toward one corner of the building together, so they were clearly Westsiders.

Michael closed his eyes, accepting that if he ran, they might shoot him. But he'd rather die than goback to the Huers.

He pushed off the door frame and ran.

The blanket flapped at Michael's thighs as he darted forward. Just before he stepped, he realized that the nails holding the planks to the floor had been removed up ahead, and there were several places where the entire floor sagged.

It was a fucking trap for the Huers, of course.

Michael leapt off his good leg onto a taller part. That part had to be at least a little safer.

"He's running!" A girl shouted.

"Let 'im." Jordie's voice carried across the floor. "We don't need him anymore anyway."

Michael caught at the banister as they began to argue and someone fired. The bullet hit the sloping roof just above his head.

He cursed as he stepped onto his shot leg, and it suddenly gave out beneath him. He tumbled down the stairs in a mess of blanket and battered limbs, dragging himself away from the main entrance.

"It's him." Someone whispered. "Don't kill him. That's Michael."

Let it be police, let it be police...

Michael crawled toward the door, but a hand landed on his neck and pulled him back.

Michael flinched and pushed himself away, neglecting the blanket, but his attacker gripped tighter and threw their bodyweight onto his back. Michael gasped, then groaned and cursed at the rough clothes scraping against his cuts, a hip digging into his bruises as th ehand now encircled his throat until the entire arm locked over his jugular.

"Michael." The man said, leaning to the side to look him in the eyes. "You cn't go out there. There's cops."

Michael met the man's eyes, and felt himself going pale with horror.

It was Morgan Huer.

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[1moreff-creator]

Trying to figure out the Ace "murder" method

Hey, it's me again!

Seeing the great reception to my Arei murder theory (which, in case you missed, has an important second version (adult warning for Arei's BDA) and a less important third post, and beyond), I decided to try and figure out a method for the Ace murder attempt from episode 6. That and I have a sorta friendly theory rivalry going on with thebadjoe-

Seems like a fun challenge. Let's get into it!

Truth Bullets

Before the murder:

After:

1- Ace's body and wounds: Ace's body is sitting against a wall, slumped over. His neck has what seem to be three slice-type wounds across the front. These are the only visible wounds we know of. His face is angry, but this being Ace, it'd be weirder if it wasn't.

2- Bloodstain on the wall: There is a faint bloodstain just behind Ace's neck. Notably, this is the only trace of blood outside of Ace and the wires.

3- Lone wire: Because I clearly didn't have enough thinking about ropes and pulleys in the other murder, this one involves a wire! That's practically just a sharp rope! Notably, there is blood around a huge chunk of the middle of the cable, and a bit on one of the sides.

4- Wire taped to the fan: There is another piece of wire, wrapped around and taped to the broken ceiling fan. There is blood on the end of the wire not connected to the fan. The roll of tape used is right there. Fun fact, the tape actually dissappears from the background in the middle of the investigation, as pointed out by thebadjoe. Eden took it. This has more to do with the other murder than this one, but it's something to consider.

5- Broken fan: The fan on the right (door view) is broken, and on the ground.

6- Moved benches: Two benches have been moved from their original position. The one on the left is just moved to the side, while the one on the right is toppled over next to Ace. Notably, it's under the broken fan, meaning it must have toppled over before the fan got there.

7- Stool: There is a stool.

I have genuinely no idea where the hell this thing came from. It wasn't in any of the second floor rooms, or any of the first floor rooms we've seen. Was it in storage?

??????????????????

Hey, how fucking far did they drag this thing?! I have to imagine it was somewhere else, as there are actually a few doors which have never been opened, such as in the laundry room.

Whatever, no one cares. There's a stool, let's live with that.

8- Broom: There is a broom. I really hope they didn't get this from storage as well.

9- Toppled over weight rack: The weight rack has been moved closer to the... lifting bench thing, and now lay sprawled across the floor. Yeah, I got no idea about gym terminology.

10- Isolated weights: There are two small weights off to the side. Yep, they sure do exist.

11- Non-functioning fan: The fan on the left isn't moving (I know you can't tell from the picture, but trust me on this). This is especially strange, as we see the same fan moving the next day when Teruko and Rose go to the gym, despite the other fan still being gone.

12- Clean pull-up bar: The tape which was around the pull-up bar since the first day the second floor opened has disappeared.

13?- ???: So, uh, I got no idea what's going on in this general area. Apart from the bench press bar apparently disappearing, there seems to be a whole ass chunk of a mirror missing, which makes absolutely zero sense. It almost looks like someone took a bite off the damn thing, but I don't think anyone here eats glass, not even MonoTV. I imagine this is an animation error, but I'll point it out anyways in case it's somehow important.

14- Rose's account: During her painting session with Nico, her turpentine went missing.

15- Teruko's account: "[Ace] stayed unconcious for much longer than can be explained by blood loss or asphyxiation." Teruko believes this means Ace was likely knocked out with Rose's turpentine. Now, why she believes this when turpentine inhalation cannot cause unconciousness, only vomiting and nausea at worst, is beyond me. But since no one ever corrects her, I believe turpentine just... works differently in the DRDT universe.

16- Banging noise: Shortly before Eden and Teruko entered the crime scene, they heard a strange banging noise which came from the gym, followed by a clattering sound. This noise is... definitely strange, and in fact, I struggle to say what exactly it was. Since it doesn't match anything perfectly, I guess it must either be the weight rack toppling, or the fan falling. Also, this noise must have been caused by Nico, as no one else ran out of the gym afterwards.

17- Nico's missing cloak: Nico's usual cloak (that's what it's called, right?) is nowhere to be seen. Where the hell it went is a fantastic question, but the fact they don't have it in the first place could mean a lot of different things. Also to note, Nico doesn't have any blood on them.

I believe that about covers it. Let's see what we can manage. Also, I apologize in advance if it seems like this isn't very structured, I'm doing the best to explain my reasoning step by step.

What was Nico doing?

This may seem like an odd question to start with, but it's actually one which gives way to one of the most fundamental truths of the crime. One which I need to establish before getting anywhere in terms of theorizing. No, I'm not about to claim Nico didn't try to murder Ace, It's something else.

The answer seems obvious at first: they were clearly killing Ace, right? Well, not so fast. Nico was standing quite far from the body, yet holding a wire covered in blood. It almost looks like they just stumbled into an already established crime scene and were just investigating. Some claim this means Nico wasn't the one who set up most of the crime, but we have to remember this line:

Charles: But did you not intentionally try to make a serious attempt on Ace's life? Answer honestly.

Nico: Y... Yes...

Nico admits to, at some point, having tried to kill Ace. Of course, this isn't conclusive, but there is actually something else which makes me believe Nico might be the sole culprit of this almost-murder. A piece of evidence I haven't seen anyone mention in detail before.

The isolated weights.

What's the issue with this weights? Well, there are three truths which make them particularly strange.

1- The fact they're isolated means they were likely involved in the murder method.

2- They are decently far from any other piece of evidence.

3- They are neatly stacked on top of each other.

The fact they're neatly stacked means someone put them like that intentionally, yet they were clearly involved in the murder method. However, if they were involved in the method, how are they this far from everything else?

Well, let me answer those questions by raising others in return. Why is Ace so far from the wires, and why was Nico holding one of them? Why are the weights the only thing in the room which seem to be placed intentionally, when everything else is all over the place? When did Nico lose their cloak? What did they do to make that banging noise?

All these questions lead me to one answer. Nico wasn't actively trying to murder Ace when Eden and Teruko entered the scene, they were cleaning the crime scene. This could include moving Ace's body around, screwing around with the wires in a way which broke the fan, and, the important part, instinctively stacking the weights on top of each other. Maybe because Nico was getting bothered by the general mess of the room, or something like that (I know I would try to put some order in the room if I was nervous), and the weights were the easiest things to move around.

Whatever the reason Nico had for moving the weights, the point is, they did. This movement clearly didn't have anything to do with the actual method, as again, the weights were pretty far from everything, so it seems to me like they were just sorta "cleaning". And the reason everything else is in disarray is because they weren't done when Teruko and Eden got there.

Of course, you may be unconvinced. You may have questions like "why didn't Nico check Ace was dead dead?". But I promise, this will all make more sense as I explain further, so for now, let's assume Nico was cleaning the crime scene.

What does that mean? It means the position of most of the objects in the room could have changed between the time the attack was carried out, and the moment Teruko and Eden entered the gym.

With this possibility in mind, let's take a deeper dive into some of the evidence.

Two Wires on a Bird

(Wait, that's not how the song-)

Now, as you may remember, there were two pieces of wire in the gym; one by itself, and one taped to the fan. A lot of people assume these two were pieces of the same wire, which was broken when the fan went down, probably.

However, I do not believe this is the case. Remember, these wires are metal. From what I could find, their black color could imply they may be aluminum or iron, for example. These have, scientifically speaking, a fuckton of tensile strength. You would need a force of no less than an elephant stampede to break that with tension alone. They can be broken, quite easily with enough effort and tools, but not easily snapped.

No, I believe the answer is much simpler. There were always two wires; there was never an unintentional breakage. If these two things were ever one solid piece of wire, the would-be-murderer must have separated them before they set up their scheme, with whatever they could find. Maybe there could be tools in storage? Not too important.

But, beyond stealing the turpentine, is there really any evidence the killer really thought the method through with that much anticipation? After all, there is this line:

Veronika: Is this what you were envisioning when you tried to kill Ace? That the trial would happen like this, but with Ace instead of Arei dead?

Nico: I didn't... I never thought about it... I...

If Nico is the sole culprit as I'm claiming, doesn't that line mean there wasn't much forethought on Nico's part?

Don't worry, I'll explain that line later. For now, let me show you that the almost-killer absolutely planned the method in advance.

Broken Fans, Broken Hearts

One of the evidence pieces which confused me the most at first was, without a doubt, the non-functioning fan on the left. Why the hell isn't it moving? It's not the other fan falling, as we see the fan on the left working independantly the next day. Clearly, something happened which broke this fan, and it may have broken the other one as well.

Now, I looked through Google to see how ceiling fans work, see if I can figure something funky out. As a quick and oversimplified explanation, they run a current to create magnetic force which moves a rotor which moves the blades. From this, I thought of maybe using magnets to screw them up, but there aren't any magnets we know of in DRDT. I looked into Nico's laser pointer, but that also went nowhere. Despite the lack of evidence of its use, J's remote was the only thing I could think of for a while.

That is, until I realized one fundamental truth:

I'm an idiot.

The answer is much, much simpler. And it comes from one important question. Why is the tape on the fan facing the ceiling?

Most people, myself included, see a stool, tape, and tape on a fan, and assume the killer used the stool to reach the fan and put the tape there. But the problem is, that would only allow you to place the wire on the underside of the blades. And I'm pretty sure the fan wouldn't do a cartwheel in midair to land upside down.

No, what the tape's position implies is that the killer had access to the upper side of the fan's blades. This means they were likely able to bring the fans down before the murder, and put them back later. However, it's very likely they wouldn't be completely able to fix them, explaining why the left one isn't moving.

I'm not sure how they'd do that, and it sorta relies again on tools from storage, but it doesn't quite matter. There's no point in taping a wire to a fan unless you want it on the fan, aka close to the ceiling, so the killer must have put them back. They likely did this way before the murder, though that raises the question of why the tape would still be there in that case. I do have an explanation, but it'll have to wait for now.

The fact the killer had this ability to take down and somewhat fix the fans makes the left fan's state trivial. They would just take it down to break it, like they did the fan on the right. Of course, the question is why.

I have two answers. The boring one is that the almost-killer thought having one fan moving while the other was broken would be suspicious, and would make Ace more cautious than just seeing both fans broken.

The more fun answer, but one I don't think makes much sense, is that breaking the fans could make the turpentine more effective. Keep in mind Teruko says it is inhaling the fumes from turpentine which can cause unconciousness, and the fans, moving the air around and stuff, would make it harder for the fumes to really be effective... somehow? Again, impossible to know from real life turpentine, as it doesn't work the same as in DRDT. There are a decent bit of inconsistencies with this answer, but eh. As long as Nico could conceivably believe it would help, they may do it. The killers don't have to always know exactly what they're doing.

Alright, Murder Time!

Now that you know how my brain interprets most of the evidence in the crime scene, it's time to get to the actual method. Just so you can get a taste of the insanity required to come up with something which is at least even slightly believeable, here's a highlight reel of the silliest ideas I seriously considered at one point or another!

-Using the broom to beat the shit out of a fan like a piñata.

-Putting the fan on the treadmill and making it run. Don't ask me how this would work.

-Creating a yoyo with the wire and the isolated weights. I almost wanted this one to be true.

-Creating a weird garrote thing with the wires and the weights.

Alright, got it out of my system. Let's actually start now.

The first thing we have to look at is the blood on the wires.

This is, hands down, the part of the crime which drove me the most insane. We need to somehow figure out a way to have blood on quite a bit of the end of the fan-wire, a huge chunk in the middle of the lone wire, and a bit on its right side as well. All of this, while only leaving injuries on the front of Ace's neck, and not the back.

The simplest way to do this would be to "drag" the bloody parts of the wire across Ace's neck, but the question is how to "dodge" the parts which aren't bloody. If you try to think about this for yourself, you're gonna notice this is a lot harder than it seems. The bloody part on the middle of the lone wire is long, but the one on the right is small. Additionally, you have to somehow figure out a way to bloody up the end of the fan-wire, which comes with the problem of "where the hell even is Ace to have his neck cut by this thing".

The first thing I figured out is that the end of the fan-wire was likely attached to the middle of the lone wire, the latter doubled over the point of contact.

(My art is back with a vengeance)

The lone wire could have even been tied around itself to triple over itself, if the length was still too long for the killer's taste. This would also help to explain the multiple injuries on his neck.

However, the problem with this is that goddamn little bit of blood on the right of the lone wire. It can't be solved by just dragging Ace a bit further, as there's a part of the wire which isn't bloody. This took me a while to figure out. In fact, at one point I was close to calling it quits, and just leaving that bit of blood unexplained.

But then, it came to me. A noose!

If the killer made a noose with the wire (let's assume that's possible), and Ace was dragged along the base of the noose, but not the noose itself, then the point of connection would leave a bloody part of the wire which would appear separated from the rest once you extended it out.

(The main takeaway from this "drawing" is the noose, don't worry if you don't exactly understand the triple over thing. After all, I'm not even sure it was actually used)

Of course, now we have to ask ourselves why in the hell is the killer making a noose, then having Ace's neck drag across the base of the noose. The first thing which comes to mind is putting the noose around something, something like the pull up bar. That's sorta the only object near the fan I could see this working with. And we know the other end of the wire must have been on the fan.

This all points me to a theory I was already cooking up beforehand. The killer may have used gravity as a weapon, letting Ace's body lean on the wire as it tenses and untenses to slowly slash at his neck. This is sorta the system I'm envisioning.

Obviously the drawings aren't to scale.

Now, if we miraculously (and it really would be a miracle) get this to work, it could explain those damn bloodstains that stumped me for hours. It could also explain the meaning of those isolated plates: if you manage to secure them to Ace's chest, they would weigh him down in such a way that his neck would press harder on the wire, causing more damage. I'll get to the way I believe it's possible the killer secured them later, but for now, this is the gist of my idea.

Now, there are a significant amount of questions and concerns you may raise just by seeing this, so let me address those.

The first concern you may have is the length of the wire system. Keeping in mind the fan-wire is atteched to the end of the blade, it would practically be impossible for this system to work if the fan spins all the way.

For the fan to actually spin automatically and not break anything, the "fan-out" position must exist only when the blade with the wire is as far away from the pull-up bar as possible. With how large the fan is, the end of the wire would be somewhat over the treadmills, maybe a bit closer to the door. The problem is, as the fan spins and the wire "tries to slack" (remember, Ace's neck pressing against it would mean it never fully slacks), it would end up practically touching the floor by the time the blade gets closer to the pull-up bar. Not to mention the issue of Ace's weight possibly fucking with the fan's automatic spin. In other words, it's impossible to create this system if the fan is spinning on its own.

...The sharper of you will have already realized why that argument doesn't work. It's not a problem, because the fan isn't spinning on its own. We established it earlier, remember? The fan was likely broken before the murder attempt even formerly began. That means the fan is spinning manually.

Perhaps that piñata idea wasn't so far off after all, we just needed a gentler touch. Using the broom and probably the stool, the almost-killer would be able to make the fan move on their whim. And this means there's no reason for them to make the fan do full revolutions. If they just move the blades back and forth a little bit, they would be able to "straighten" and "slack" the wire system however they wanted, and wouldn't need the system to extend all the way to the other side of the room. In fact, they would actually want the system to be as short as possible while still reaching from the fan to the pull-up bar, since that simplifies the positioning of Ace's body, as you'll see later.

But before we get to that, I have to answer something else. This method, you may have noticed, wouldn't exactly leave the deepest wounds, would it? I mean, it could definitively cause bleeding, but the wounds would likely be quite shallow, unless the wire is ultra sharp. It seems like a pretty bad murder system if it only leaves mostly superficial wounds.

Except, who told you the wounds weren't superficial? Remember, Ace didn't actually die from this. And although I'm no expert in anatomy, I believe any neck wound would be fatal if it's deep enough. Thus, whatever the method used was, it could only leave shallow wounds.

That still raises the question of why the killer would do this, but I'll get there. For now, let me give you a sneak peek: I believe the attacker knew Ace didn't die from the wire attack. Intriguing, right?

And if you're worried about the amount of blood being too much for shallow wounds, don't worry. As I said, I believe Teruko and Eden ran into the crime scene a while after the crime actually happened, so Ace must have been bleeding for a while. And I'm no forensic expert, but I believe people who are alive bleed faster than corpses, since the heart is still beating and all that. Essentially, there's a lot of blood only because Ace has been bleeding for a while.

Now comes the hardest part of the visualization, and frankly, the one thing which really makes me doubt whether or not this is possible. With the two benches found on the crime scene, you have to play jenga with them and Ace's body in a way which makes sure his head reaches the pull-up bar in the "fan-out" position, and which doesn't run into issues holding his body up in the "fan-in" position. Considering the height of the pull-up bar, I think the best way to do this would be placing the benches parallel to the wire, and Ace's body kneeling perpendicular to it. You might also want to put a space in between the benches for the knees to bend forward, but I'm not sure.

(Not to scale)

Again, I know this is hard to visualize, and probably harder to pull off, but I don't think it's completely impossible. If anyone has better ideas on how to put the benches, I'd love to hear it.

Now, the sharper of you would realize a problem. As Ace's body flops onto the wire, it's likely going to get pulled forward, but it would also likely slide down towards Ace's chest. That's a problem, since his wounds are only on his neck. However, I have a possible solution for this. You know how I said you could secure the isolated weight plates on Ace's chest to make him press harder onto the wire? Well, if you secure them high and well enough, with tape for example, they might be able to stop the wires from sliding down.

The unfortunate part of this is that we can't be sure if there was any blood on the weights, which there likely would be in this case, since Teruko didn't check them closely. But the bigger issue here is the tape itself: where'd it go?

Well, I'll answer that question with another question. How is there no blood on the floor? Under this method, gravity would make at least a fair bit of blood fall to the floor. There's no way Nico cleaned it up, so how?

Well, if you don't want a liquid to stain a floor, what can you do? You can drape something over the floor so that gets stained instead of the floor. And this is how I plan to explain Nico's missing cloak. Their cloak was draped over the floor in the place where the blood would fall, as to avoid staining the floor with blood. Nico later removed the cloak from the crime scene, possibly leaving it in the dress-up room or somewhere else for the time being.

Now, that sounds ridiculous. Why would Nico leave the crime scene so early? Is there any actual evidence they left at some point?

Well, actually, there is. It's the other place where blood should have been in this method. Since Ace's neck must reach the base of the noose, it would touch the pull-up bar and stain it with blood. Or rather, it would stain the tape on the pull-up bar with blood. The tape which is also missing.

Before.

After.

In fact, this missing piece of tape is extremely important evidence for my theory. The fact it's missing means the pull-up bar was involved, possibly being stained with blood. It also means the culprit took evidence out of the crime scene, which helps explain why Nico is missing their cloak. It also gives credence to the theory the killer taped the isolated weights to Ace's chest, since one missing piece of tape could imply two missing pieces of tape. And- hey! That's why the roll of duct tape is still there! They didn't need it for the fan, since that set up was likely done before the murder attempt as established earlier, so they must have used it somewhere else!

Oh yeah, it's all coming together.

And with this, as you've noticed, we've sorta already arrived at my conclusion on the culprit. Since I believe Nico's cloak was involved in the setup, but was later removed, I firmly assert Nico is the sole almost-murderer. After all, even if the killer knocked out Nico and put them in the crime scene or something, there would be no reason to discard their cloak, and if Nico took it out the gym after waking up, there's no reason to return until they tell someone else about the body.

At this point, I should also address the hidden quote I know is gonna be brought up. Like with every character, if you inspect element on Nico's page you get a hidden quote, which in their case is "why should I own up for the mistakes someone else made?". That makes it sound like they didn't do this, but keep in mind, Nico did confirm having attempted to kill Ace, so I don't think it makes sense for the mistake to be "tried to kill Ace". I actually think this line could be a lot darker. I think this line could imply Ace made the mistakes being referred to, and Nico feels as though they don't have to own up for that. Like, "Ace was the one who fucked around, I just made them find out". Though I am admittedly biased towards evil Nico interpretations, so I can't be sure. Also, this could be about something from another chapter entirely.

Now that we sort of have an idea of how the attack could have gone down, we have to start thinking of the clean up. Unfortunately, this part of the plan wouldn't leave many clues behind, so it's largely speculative. Also worth keeping in mind, I believe this started a while before Teruko and Eden even arrived at the second floor.

The first order of business is taking Ace's body out of the mechanism. They would need to gently let it lean on the wire until the fan wouldn't turn anymore, before quickly stepping off the stool and going over. I'll explain why they're so worried about the body later, but for now, trust me bro. They would push the body off the wire, moving the benches to maneuver better, but their movements are sort of sloppy. This results in the rightmost bench falling over, and when they push Ace up against the wall, they do so haphazardly, leaving behind a small blood stain behind his neck. This is unfortunately the only explanation I have for the bloodstain on the wall which still fits all the other evidence. I say unfortunately because it's a sorta odd explanation for something I would usually consider quite important, but I've had enough trying to explain the blood on the wires, I'm not gonna worry too much about this little thing.

After making sure the body is off the wire, Nico would want to take care of the most incriminating evidence first: their bloodstained cloak. They would probably roll it up into a ball to carry it, though I imagine they may wipe some of the blood off the wires as well. After all, it's the one piece of evidence which can be directly be linked back to them. Since they just took the body down, they would also pick up the evidence closest to them; the bloodstained tape on the pull-up bar and the tape and weights on Ace's chest. They decide to leave the weights in the gym for the time being, and carry out the cloak and the pieces of tape, likely leaving them somewhere else on the second floor. I think one of the changing rooms in the dress-up room is the likeliest spot, or the trash can. They were later planning on disposing of it in a better way, I imagine, but I don't think they wanted to leave the body alone too long, since as I said, they may have known Ace was alive.

Timeline-wise, it's hard to say how much time passes between Nico going out and into the gym, and the moment Teruko and Eden meet in the dress-up room. Especially because part of my other theory is that Eden was actually doing some stuff on the second floor at this time. So here's how I see it; when they return to the gym, they put the weights they had just sort of left there one on top of the other, probably move the stool a little, but most importantly, they start trying to figure out a way to take down the wire system. They initially try things like untying the noose or undoing the knot in the middle, but they're worried about blood getting on them or getting cut by the wire. This hesitation on how to take the wire system down is what explains the time difference between the start of their cleaning and the moment Eden and Teruko get there. I am deeply aware this isn't a very satisfying answer to that issue, but I don't think it's too outlandish, especially since Nico is clearly not in the greatest mental state.

Eventually, they decide they're not going to take the wire system down carefully. To avoid getting blood on themselves, the best way would be to rip out the entire system all at once. I imagine they looped the wire around the broom, and pulled hard in one direction. Do it well enough, and I believe both the noose and the knot between the wires would come undone. However, in doing this, Nico also accidentally knocked down the ceiling fan. This causes the banging noise Eden and Teruko hear.

However, Nico doesn't think anyone else is nearby, and thus doesn't worry about the noise. They just pick up the lone wire (by the parts which aren't bloody), which had flown towards them thanks to their broom trick, and stretch it out... because they felt like it. Yeah, I'm not really sure. But I know a lot of people do weird things to calm themselves when nervous, and Nico is not thinking straight. Fixing up the wire could be something they felt compelled to do without logical reason. I hope this makes sense to you as much as it makes sense to me. Regardless, this is what Teruko and Eden catch them doing. Nico runs away, and probably picks up their cloak on the way as to at least have the slightest argument for their innocence. Since the lone pieces of tape are there, Nico probably picks them up too.

That's basically it for what happened, though you may have noticed there is one piece of evidence I never mentioned. That being the toppled over weight rack. However, there's a pretty simple explanation for this, one I have to give credit to thebadjoe for. Essentially, it's possible the weight rack was moved by Ace to train. If he was bench pressing, it would make sense for him to bring the weight rack closer to the... bench press bench? You know what I mean. And then, when the killer attacked them with turpentine, the rack was toppled over in the struggle. There's unfortunately no way to confirm this, as in the ep 11 flashback, Ace is in the gym but the weight rack is not next to the bench press bench. This doesn't disprove anything; Ace could have just been doing literally anything else. But it unfortunately doesn't confirm anything either.

So, there we go! A series of events which more or less explains all the major evidence in the scene and is (hopefully) physically possible! The bloodstains on the wires were a major pain, to the point I will gladly take anything that explains them more or less satisfactorily, and the missing tape on the pull up bar convinces me I'm (hopefully) in the right track.

... Yeah, so there's still a problem.

Hey, OP, what the fuck?

So, once again my "method before motive" way of theorizing arrives at an extremely complicated system which seems to have no purpose at all. If the fan really is broken as I claim, then there's no way for this to be a remote murder, and a lot of this is just unnecessary. Like, why not just cut Ace's neck with the wires using your hands, the way God (MonoTV) intended? And what the hell did I mean when I said Nico started cleaning the crime scene despite knowing Ace was alive?!

So, here comes the most speculative part of my theory. The reason for the method. Initially, one would assume a system like this would be used to get away with the murder without being caught, like most murders in... well, murder mystery stories. However, remember that line I brought up before? The one where Veronika asks about the trial, and Nico claims to have never thought about it?

I think they're telling the truth. I don't think the purpose of the system is to get away with the murder at all.

And it all comes back to the concern I raised about superficial wounds. Like I said, this system seems odd because it wouldn't be able to cause anything but some shallow cuts. But, what if that's the point?

What if Nico designed this method specifically so it wouldn't kill Ace?

That sounds insane, but think about it. If Nico tries to cut Ace's neck with the wires just by using their hands, it's possible they would get over-excited and accidentally cut too deep, killing Ace almost instantly. If that's not what they want, then it would make more sense to set up a somewhat automatic system which runs less risk of cutting too deep. Maybe.

But, didn't Nico confirm they made a serious attempt on Ace's life, like they told Charles? Yes, but they weren't done.

I believe it's possible Nico wanted Ace to wake up after receiving his neck injuries. That way, he'd be weakened by the blood loss and the pain, but still concious when Nico actually killed them. Under this interpretation, Nico wanted Ace to die knowing Nico was stronger than him, not just by using turpentine and cheap tricks, but just in a straight up fight (though with the handicap of the injuries).

Is that too sadistic? Arguably yes, but we still don't know how far Nico's anger is capable of taking them. I'm probably biased since I am a Veronika kinnie at heart, whose love for a character only increases the more evil and fucked up they are. Still, trust me when I say I went insane trying to figure out any method which could explain the fucking bloodstains on those wires as well as everything else, and this one is the best one I've found so far. It's all I have, I gotta work the characters around it somehow, and this is the only way I can think of.

Nico waiting for Ace to wake up also answers a lot of the basic questions of what the hell was going on when Teruko and Eden entered. If Nico really made a serious attempt on Ace's life, why are they standing so far without confirming Ace is dead? Because they know he's not, and are waiting for him to wake up.

The biggest issues I see here (besides the sheer insanity of the idea) are:

-This method still really isn't that reliable at not killing. However, it doesn't have to be; Nico just needs to trust it more than they do their own hands. And the trust Nico has on their own hands could actually be very little knowing how insecure they is about a lot of things. Not a great argument, but it's there.

-If Nico didn't think of the trial at all, there's no reason for them to take the cloak and tape out of the gym. This is admittedly a much more pressing issue, since a lot of my theory hinges on them doing this. My best answer is that they were working mostly on autopilot. Not actively thinking of the trial, but still knowing in the back of their mind that they would have to hide they did this. It's not great, but it's an answer.

-We don't have evidence Nico even had another weapon on them. If Nico wanted to kill Ace after he woke up, they would have likely brought a weapon with them. However, counterpoint; we know they must have had at least one possible weapon, the turpentine bottle. It's a pretty shitty weapon, but break it open and it would be effective enough. Additionally, the fact we don't know where that thing is implies Nico could have been hiding another weapon, but I'm hesitant to claim this, because again, no evidence.

Overall, I think these holes aren't too big, and considering I'm expecting to get lots of things wrong here, I'm comfortable enough with my answer to put it out there for peer review.

Closing Argument

-During the afternoon, the culprit had to get two custom weapons for their plan. One, the turpentine, they stole from Rose during a painting session. The other, Hu's wire, they simply asked for with some vague excuse, as they had a good relation with her.

-Once they got the wire, they split it into two and went to the gym, a while before the victim arrived. They also brought a stepstool and a broom. With them, they took down the rightmost fan, and ductaped one of the wires' end to one of its blades. They managed to put the fan back up, with the wire hidden on top of the blades. However, the fan didn't spin anymore. The culprit also broke the other fan with a similar method, so as to not make the victim suspicious when they entered the gym.

-The culprit waited until the victim entered the gym for their regular nighttime exercise session, likely after feeding the fish in the relax room.

-The victim, Ace, wanted to do some bench pressing, so he brought the weight rack closer. They didn't notice anything amiss, until the culprit entered the gym.

-With a rag filled with turpentine (maybe; it's impossible to know how people in the DRDT universe would use turpentine as a sedative), the culprit ambushed Ace. Although there was a struggle which knocked over the weight rack, the culprit managed to get Ace to inhale enough turpentine to knock him out. Now, the culprit could have just killed Ace then and there, but that's not what they wanted. They wanted to prove themselves stronger than him, or simply to make them suffer for what he had done to them. In any case, they wanted him to be seriously injured, but not dead by the time the turpentine wore off. Since they couldn't trust their own impulses, they wanted to use a more hands-off method which would ensure Ace would be in serious pain, but not die until the culprit could make sure he felt it.

-Working quickly as nighttime approached, the killer used the broom and stepstool to spin the rightmost fan's blades so as to get the wire taped to it to fall down.

-They tied a noose around the pull-up bar with the other part of the wire. They possibly made the wire triple over itself, and attached the fan-wire to its middle. They also put the non-noose end under the noose on the pull-up bar, for extra stability. For Ace's body, they used the roll of tape to attach two small weights from the rack to Ace's chest.

-With the wire system now hanging slack, like a vine, between the fan and the pull-up bar, they moved the benches under it. The killer also wore a cloak, which they took off and draped over the floor around where they believed the blood would end up.

-They dragged Ace's body to the benches. They propped him up there on his knees, letting his neck press down onto the wire system, specifically a part of the fan-wire. Once they made sure he wasn't going to fall, they quickly made their way to the stepstool, grabbed the broom, and got on it.

-With the broom, they moved the fan's blades manually, not too fast, but with some strength. The wire system pressed hard on Ace's neck, starting to cut his neck as it straightened. Ace's head tilted as this happened, and he started to lean towards the pull-up bar. As his neck dragged over the rolled up lone wire, various shallow cuts opened in his skin. Ace's head touched the pull-up bar's tape, staining it and the base of the noose with blood.

-The killer then slowly allowed Ace's body weight to press on the wire as the fan slowly spun in that direction, the speed controlled by the broom. The wires didn't fall to his chest because of the weights, as well as the slow nature of the descent. His blood stained every spot of the wire his neck dragged across, including the end of the fan-wire.

-The culprit repeated this one or two times, enough to feel as though Ace was sufficiently hurt for their purposes, but not so much they felt he'd die before waking up.

-When they were done, they gently let Ace's body lean on the wire as far as the fan would allow, before dropping the broom and hopping off the stepstool.

-They quickly ran over to Ace, pushing him off the wire system before it could do any more damage to him. In doing this, the bench he was kneeling on fell over, and Ace's body slammed on the wall next to the pull-up bar. The culprit managed to keep him in a sitting position, but the impact with the wall had left a small bloodstain behind Ace.

-The culprit moved the benches a bit to maneuver better around the gym. They took the bloodstained tape off the pull-up bar, retrieved the weights and tape from Ace's chest, and got their cloak off the floor. They used the cloak to wipe a bit of the blood off the wire system, though since it was already covered in blood, some still remained. Not enough to drip off and make a noticeable change on the floor, though. The killer left the weights off to a side in the gym, and ran off with the tape and cloak. They likely hid it somewhere nearby, like the trash can in the hallway or the changing rooms of the dress-up room.

-They came back to the gym at around the same time Eden went to the second floor (this is related to my other theory, don't worry too much about it). They began waiting for Ace to wake up, but their desire for cleanliness guided them in the tense situation. They started trying to figure out a way to take down the wire system without risking injury and without getting blood on themselves.

-A few minutes later, as Teruko went to the second floor and met with Eden, the killer figured out a way to take down the system. They grabbed the broom and wrapped a clean part of the fan-wire around it, before pulling with all their might.

-Several things happened at once. The noose and knot in the point of connection came undone instantly, and the lone wire flew towards the entrance. However, the strength of the pull also took down the fan from the ceiling, making a loud banging noise which could be heard from the hallway.

-The killer didn't think there'd be anyone on the second floor at the time, so they just continued their clean up effort as they waited for Ace to awaken. They grabbed the lone wire by the non-bloody parts and stretched it out, just as Teruko and Eden entered the gym.

-Upon seeing the two girls, the culprit panicked. They dropped the wire and ran away, but still had the sense to quickly pick up their cloak and tape just in case.

-The culprit's plan was to wait until Ace woke up, and in his weakened and pained state, kill him with the bottle of turpentine or some other weapon they had brought with them. And they would have gotten away with it too, if it weren't for those meddling girls!

-The missing cloak, paired with the suspicious lack of blood on the scene; the turpentine theft during a painting session with Rose; the motive to kill Ace in this manner; their actions and presence in the crime scene; all paired with an admission of guilt. The method shows only one person with the ability, opportunity and motive to attempt such a heinous murder: Nico Hakobyan, the Ultimate Pet Therapist!

Conclusion

Is this conclusion perfect? By no means. Nico's actions are still extremely erratic and hard to explain, not to mention how difficult it would be to physically get the method to work. However, it's an answer which I feel sufficiently explains all the evidence in the crime scene, which is shockingly difficult. Those damn bloodstains, man.

Still, I imagine I've gotten quite a few things wrong, so this is more a starting point than a final answer. I just think it's solid enough to put out there and get second opinions on it.

Thanks for reading all the way to end! I would give you a cookie, but I'm afraid it's impossible through a screen. Have a good day!

[illegally-blind-and-deaf]

Because there has hardly been anything about Dmitri's backstory, I am now vomiting my ideas here

Deal with it

He's Jewish. Idk why specifically but it just fits... even if he's more culturally Jewish than religiously (my friend is like that) it just fits and also it makes a lot more sense as to why he really really hates Russia. I mean, the majority of people didn't like what Russia was but they still wanted improvement and they still had some respect for the culture and the land itself, Dmitri seems like he just wants to be done with the place because, yknow, Anti-Semitism. Also having Dmitri as Jewish gives a sharp contrast between imperial Vlad who was practically at the top of the food chain (almost) compared to Dmitri who was quite literally at the bottom. If history wanted Anya to live, wouldn't it be to bridge the gap between the two?

If Dmitri is Jewish his mother definitely died in the pogroms, which would have led his dad to be completely done with the autocracy and join the Bolsheviks.

Little Dmitri sharing a bunk in a cramped boarding house for factory workers where disease was rampant, the floor was dirt, he only had one outfit, worked for like 11 hours a day and hot paid virtually nothing. If you say I'm traumatizing it for ✨trauma✨, I'm being genuinely honest these were the working conditions in Russia at this time DO YOU SEE WHY THEY HAD A REVOLUTION-

Dmitri's dad inevitably getting arrested and Dmitri being sent to a horrible boys home that made him have a buzz cut for three years to avoid love and he runs away at 10, stealing half the money. Conveniently there is a huge crowd watching a parade of the Royal family go by *wink wink* in a crowd of thousands *wink*

Dmitri finding a bunch of older teenagers who take him in because he's really quick and young and can steal stuff really well. They also turn out to be rather avid Bolshevik supporters (can you see where I'm going here)

Dmitri at 12 having a well-established idea that middle and upper classes were horrible mean people who are exploiting the working classes for their own gain until he tries to steal from a merchant's shop and the merchant takes him into his home and the family feeds him. Dmitri asks why they're doing this and the merchant explains that in their religion, they believe that the most important thing one can do is to help and love and care for people because that's what Christ would do. "Even Jews?" "Of course. Christ was a Jew, wasn't He?" Dmitri realises that not all Christians are horrible people who want him dead

By the time he's in his mid-teens he's a full-on Bolshevik and is painting propaganda posters for them because he wants to help but he can't read or write because he had no education because 1. He was poor and 2. He was jewish: he wasn't allowed. Also, the Bolsheviks promised freedom for Jews and that made him really happy

Revolution happens and Dmitri begins to find flaws in the Bolshevik regime: there's still a secret police (The cheka: one of the boys he boards with is a member), there's still a whole heap of poverty and now families are still being arrested and sent to labour camps. He watches one get arrested and the little girl gets carted off to an orphanage somewhere and he realises that it's no different to what the tsar did except now they're arresting people who are "rich"

The merchant and his family were arrested. Dmitri cried.

Soon it's 1918 and the Cheka member he boards with comes back after being away for a couple of days, gets insanely drunk on vodka and starts gloating about the Romanovs in Yekateringburg in house arrest. Dmitri causally asks how they are. The Cheka member laughs and shoots him a nasty snarl. "They're dead. We shot them in their heads and bayonetted them til they stopped screaming." Dmitri thinks his heart has stopped beating because the youngest girl was was still a child, only a couple of years younger than him (I've reduced Anastasia's age because her being 27 during the musical feels weird) and she was one of the few people who smiled at him and treated him like a person. She wasn't bad. She was a child. He speaks out and the Cheka member pulls out his whip.

Dmitri runs away and gets a job at Putilov steelworks. He burns his arm in the first week but a lot of the men are nice enough to help him as he recovers.

Dmitri quits the Bolshevik party and starts implementing all the cons and thievery that he knows to thwart smaller plans and be a general nuisance to them. He saves a count from a firing squad who decides to follow him around for eternity, which is annoying. Dmitri tells the count absolutely nothing about his past because he doesn't want yet another person judging him.

He nearly gets caught by the Cheka and, after avoiding conscription for the civil war, is inevitably wanted by the government. He hides in the Yusopov palace by the Moika River. He can almost see the splendor Yusopov must have lived in

At night he dreams of buying a little cottage by the seaside (is the sea nice? Dmitri's never been, he wouldn't know) and there's a garden with millions of vibrant flowers and hot food and warm baths and a bed with a mattress and blankets and Dmitri lives contentedly forever. That's his dream. His dream requires a lot of money though. Money that he's never had.

Then he hears about the rumour regarding Anastasia. That she's alive and her grandmother, Maria Feodorovna, is waiting in Paris with 10 million roubles and Dmitri's eyes widen. It's the perfect opportunity to score some money, then he can run away to the French countryside and live in peace.

Then a girl with dark red hair and vivid blue eyes breaks into the palace and, well, you know the rest.

Also they don't go back to Russia at the end, that's the dumbestvidea ever, the go to countryside France by the seashore and get a cute little house with a massive garden full of flowers and every morning they go to the bakers and get a fresh loaf of warm bread.

[testingthewatersss]

Detailed nav under the cut (SMUT chapters will be pink) 18+MDI Quick Links by title Where you left me I never lost him Are you my captain? 2 weeks Ran Come to bed Knocks Wounded Blood Spy Oneshot Navigation SWF Library SMUT Library Imagines/Prompts Library

Trigger warnings for PTSD, mentions of war, torture, flashbacks etc. fluff, angst, comfort. 18+ MDNI

Your super solider boyfriend spends basically every night in your apartment, at first you thought holding onto your own place was for the best, especially considering your own history with shield, but something changes your mind. READ 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

Trigger warnings for PTSD, mentions of war, torture, flashbacks etc. fluff, angst, comfort. 18+ MDNI Reader is Tony’s sister, a non-enhanced shield agent who recently resurfaced. One day she says something on the way home from a rogue mission that makes Steve Rodgers realise he's not the only person looking for Sargent Barnes. READ 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12

Trigger warnings for PTSD, mentions of war, torture, flashbacks etc General wintersolider context warnings. fluff, angst, comfort. 18+ MDI (angst is mild) Okay, they hadn't meant to spy on you and Barnes. Not really- but the two way mirrors that are scattered through the tower make it too easy to avoid. The question is what they're going to do about what they saw. READ 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

Trigger warnings for PTSD, mentions of war, torture, flashbacks etc. fluff, angst, comfort. 18+ MDNI You each tell your own friends. That was the deal you made with Bucky when you finally got together. A year later and he’s finally figuring out why you’d been so sure that you’d gotten the better part of the deal with Tony. READ 1 | 2 | 3

Trigger warnings for PTSD, mentions of war, torture, flashbacks etc this one is heavy on the winter solider. angst, comfort. 18+ MDI When you were first captured by Hydra your own training kicked in. You convinced them of your blind loyalty and decided to bide your time. What you didn’t expect was their most dangerous weapon being so… sweet. READ 1 | 2 | 3

Trigger warnings for PTSD, mentions of war, torture, flashbacks etc fluff, angst, comfort. 18+ MDI You told him it was a bad idea. That it was going to be loud. Luckily, he has somewhere to run too. READ 1 | 2 | 3

Trigger warnings for PTSD, mentions of war, torture, flashbacks etc fluff, smut, angst, comfort. 18+ MDI (Smut and fluff come in the later chapters) Bucky hates med-bays, he's always hated med-bays. So when he bolts from one nobody is surprised. Even when the sight of him fleeing makes staff raise an alarm, it's never hard to find him. READ 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

Trigger warnings for PTSD, mentions of war, torture, etc. angst, comfort. 18+ MDNI  After the downfall of HYDRA it takes 2 weeks for you to find him. Somehow, it seems like far too long.

READ 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10

Trigger warnings for PTSD, mentions of war, torture, etc. angst, comfort. 18+ MDNI  Waking up to an empty bed in the middle of the night never bodes well, especially not in winter.

READ 1 | 2 | 3

Trigger warnings for PTSD, mentions of war, torture,  blood etc. The usual extortionate amount of unapologetic cuddling and comfort. fluff, angst, comfort. 18+ MDNI

Bucky never liked the blood. So when he comes home covered in it, nobody is quite sure what went wrong.

READ 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

Masterlist

[scary-grace]

Love Like Ghosts (Chapter 18) - a Shigaraki x f!Reader fic

You knew the empty house in a quiet neighborhood was too good to be true, but you were so desperate to get out of your tiny apartment that you didn't care, and now you find yourself sharing space with something inhuman and immensely powerful. As you struggle to coexist with a ghost whose intentions you're unsure of, you find yourself drawn unwillingly into the upside-down world of spirits and conjurers, and becoming part of a neighborhood whose existence depends on your house staying exactly as it is, forever. But ghosts can change, just like people can. And as your feelings and your ghost's become more complex and intertwined, everything else begins to crumble. (cross-posted to Ao3)

Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21

Chapter 18

There’s something wrong with your house, but you knew that when you bought it. This morning, the thing that’s wrong with it is the potted plant that’s heaved over the fence into the front yard just past three am. The sound of a terracotta pot shattering wakes you up, and when you fumble for your phone to check the time, you see that you’ve got a text from Dabi. Your dumb horny idiot wouldn’t leave me alone until I gave him a plant. Whatever the hell he wants, I hope it’s worth it.

As far as Dabi goes, it could be worse. You send him a thumbs-up and a thank-you and wonder idly if Tomura really thinks one potted plant is going to get the two of you through a second round of sex. But when Tomura materializes in your room seconds later, he doesn’t try to start something. Instead he crawls under the blankets on your bed and wedges himself in beside you. Phantom’s excited to see him. She walks all over you to plop down between the two of you, her wagging tail thumping against your cheek.

You shift her to one side to avoid the onslaught and peer at Tomura through blurry eyes. “What?”

“Go back to bed.” Tomura sets Phantom down on your stomach and presses close against your side, wrapping one arm around you to hold you even closer. “I mean it. Go.”

You don’t like being told what to do, but you have work in the morning, and you’re still worn out from last night. You close your eyes again.

It’s a busy morning, so busy that your plan to get the morning-after pill before work is derailed within two minutes of your alarm going off. You were so tired last night that it was all you could do to make dinner, feed Phantom, and go back to sleep, which means you now have to shower and pack a lunch in addition to all your usual morning chores. And somewhere in the middle of that, you have to explain the plan for killing Tomura’s conjurer to Tomura himself.

Tomura, as predicted, is not pleased. His first protest is that he can do it himself, at which point you text Hizashi to come over later and explain – from outside the fence – what happens to ghosts who kill their own conjurers. Tomura follows up by pointing out that the others weren’t very helpful handling Garaki, and you counter with Tomura’s own statement about being his conjurer’s only remaining ghost. Finally, Tomura gets around to what seems to be the main point of contention. “I don’t trust them. Not with you. Not from him.”

Tomura doesn’t talk about his conjurer very much. From what he’s said, he barely remembers him. But you knew he’d say something like this, and you have a response ready. “If you’re materialized, he’s cut off from the world between. He’ll just be a human. And humans die.”

“Don’t copy me,” Tomura says. He knows you’re quoting what he said to Garaki. “Who’s supposed to kill him, anyway? If they try this stupid plan.”

“The rest of the adult humans,” you say. Then you think about it. “Probably Keigo or Aizawa. And probably Aizawa. He’s got a gun.”

“Spinner would. And Jin.” Tomura speaks with a lot more certainty than you’d expect. He sees the way you’re looking at him. “What?”

“Nothing.” The electric teakettle hisses and you pour hot water into your travel mug before dropping in a tea bag. “Usually you aren’t nice about them.”

“They came over while you were gone. For games.” Tomura crouches down to pet Phantom, who’s come over with her favorite toy. “Himiko, too. It wasn’t bad.”

You didn’t expect that. You didn’t think he’d do anything but hang out with Phantom while you were gone, and you suddenly feel guilty for not asking. But you’ll ask more when you get home from work, or text him about it on your lunch break. Right now you have to get moving. “So, the plan?”

“I haven’t said yes yet.”

“We’re not doing it today,” you say. “Just think about it. If you’ve got ideas, we could use them. Your last plan was pretty good.”

Tomura looks pleased with himself. You gather up your work backpack, plus all the research you’re bringing to Mr. Yagi in exchange for his and Izuku’s notes on his master’s journal, and head for the door. Phantom follows you. So does Tomura. “Get more plants on the way home.”

You say goodbye to Phantom and feed her a treat. “Plants are expensive.”

“They’re everywhere outside. Those don’t cost anything.”

He wants you to go out, dig up random plants, put them in pots, and bring them home so the two of you can have more sex. “I’m not stealing plants in my work clothes,” you say. “Maybe after dinner.”

Tomura grins. He dematerializes from behind you and reappears in front of you, leaning against the front door and blocking your path. “I want a kiss first.”

“I was going to kiss you anyway.” Your hands are full, but you step forward anyway and press your lips against his.

You haven’t kissed him since last night. The two of you don’t usually kiss unless someone’s trying to start something, and kissing him goodbye on your way out the door to work has always felt a little too intimate, a little too serious for whatever the two of you are. Except now the two of you have said you love each other. You defined the relationship. You went all the way, to the degree that you’re having to make an effort not to walk funny. You can be serious, because it is serious. A goodbye kiss is something you’re allowed to have.

You’re five minutes late by the time you stagger out the door, and as you push the speed limit to get to work on time, you find yourself wishing you had someone you could tell about all of this. Maybe not the sex part. Probably not about that. Definitely not about that – but the rest of it. The part where you’ve got a boyfriend who loves you in whatever way ghosts love humans. It’s the kind of thing you’d talk to your old friends about, but they’ve found their own lives and pulled away, just like you did. There’s got to be somebody else. As you cruise the courthouse parking lot looking for a parking place, your usual spot long since snagged by somebody who got here early, you’re horrified to find yourself considering telling Nakayama.

The spot you find is way back in the corner of the lot, almost out of sight of the doors. If it was dark there’s no way you’d think about parking here, but it’s broad daylight, and you’ve got pepper spray somewhere in your backpack for the walk back after work. You take a second to get yourself organized, then grab your backpack and get out of the car, walking around to the passenger side to lift your research folder off the seat.

You don’t see a shadow fall across you. You don’t hear footsteps. The first thing you notice is something touching your shoulder, and the last thing you see is an enormous hand swathed in a wet, stinking handkerchief coming down over your nose and mouth. You have time to identify the smell – not alcohol, something stronger, chloroform? – before the world starts to blur at the edges. Somewhere in your head, alarm bells are ringing. You’re in danger. You’re being kidnapped. Something’s gone really wrong.

By the time the realization settles over you fully, it’s too late. All you can do is throw your elbow backwards, connecting weakly with something solid, before everything goes black.

You come to with a splitting headache and all the adrenaline and terror you didn’t have time to feel before flooding through your veins. As soon as your eyes are open, you’re fighting, but there’s no point – your arms and legs have been shackled down at the wrists and ankles, and there’s a restraint pinning you to the table at the waist. You’re trapped. It’s not even funny how trapped you are.

When you look up, all you can see is the bright glare of a fluorescent light, the kind that gets shined on your face at the dentist’s office. When you turn your head to the right, there’s nothing. When you look left, you see a rolling cart with a tray on top of it. The tray is covered in sharp, shiny metal implements. Surgical implements.

This can’t be happening. You thrash, trying to find any give in your restraints, but there’s nothing. It’s around then that you realize you’ve been stripped of your shoes, socks, shirt, pants – you’re down to your bra and underwear, like some parody of a kidnapping in a movie. But this isn’t a parody or a movie. It’s real. Whoever brought you here is planning to hurt you badly. Maybe kill you. Probably kill you.

“Don’t worry. I don’t plan to kill you.” The voice issues from somewhere behind you, and it rings a distant bell in your head. Too distant, when the rest of you is worried about whether your kidnapper can read your mind. “In fact, my plan hinges on your survival. I have great things in mind for Tomura, and the death of his human at my hands will not improve his listening skills.”

“Shigaraki Akira,” you say, and Tomura’s conjurer laughs. “I know who you are. We all do.”

“Yes, you made it quite far in your investigation! Tomura certainly chose his human well,” the conjurer says. He sounds delighted by it, which is the opposite of how you expected him to sound. “It’s quite unusual to see a human so bent on protecting a ghost – and terribly unfortunate that Tomura wasn’t quite so careful when it came to you. So full of ghostly power – you were all too easy to spot.”

You have the incredibly stupid thought that this wouldn’t be happening if the condom hadn’t broken, then push it aside. The conjurer’s voice is familiar. You’ve met him before. When? Where? “Where did you find me?”

“You don’t remember?” The conjurer sounds surprised. Then he laughs at himself. “Of course. You can’t see me. My apologies.”

Footsteps behind you. A shadow falls over you, and although it’s hard to see the conjurer’s face, you know exactly who you’re looking at. “My fellow gardener,” the man who gave you his handkerchief the day Garaki died says. His smile sends a bolt of pure terror down your spine. “We meet again.”

All this time you’ve been plotting against Tomura’s conjurer, and he’s known where you are. He’s known where you are for more than a month. You thrash against the restraints harder than before, watching as Shigaraki picks his way around the table you’re strapped to and reaches the cart with the instruments. He pulls on a pair of gloves, and somewhere behind you, a door opens. More footsteps. Shadowy figures come to stand along the walls, and Shigaraki continues to talk.

“It’s quite a strange existence your neighborhood has carved out,” he remarks, lifting one tool after another to the light and studying them. “So many beings who once held immense power, leading such quiet, mundane lives. I must say, I’ve never understood the appeal of humanity, of mortality. Why should we settle for one life, one world, when we could have so much more?”

Silence falls, and stretches. Tomura’s conjurer glances at you. “This isn’t a rhetorical question. I’m interested in your answer. What is so wonderful about mortality?”

“It’s not wonderful,” you say. Shigaraki Akira arches an eyebrow. “The world between is worse.”

“Ah, I understand. You’ve stared into the abyss, and you don’t like what you saw.” Shigaraki raises one hand and beckons, and eight shadowy figures converge on the table, holding down your arms and legs even tighter. If you couldn’t get out before, you’ve got no hope of it now. “Perhaps you simply need to look a little longer. You will get the chance.”

When he speaks again, he’s not speaking to you. “Hold her down tightly. We must remove all traces, or our plan will be spoiled before it can begin.”

“What plan?” you ask desperately. “What are you going to do to me?”

“For all your impressive qualities, you’re only human,” Shigaraki Akira says, almost indulgently. “In order for you to properly partner Tomura, I must make you into something more.”

There’s something about that you should understand. Something you should know. But then the blade of a knife meets your skin, carving deep through its layers and down to the fat beneath it, and your ability to understand anything at all vanishes into a helpless howl of pain.

It’s terrible enough to drive you into unconsciousness, but Tomura’s conjurer doesn’t let you stay there. When you pass out, the knife lifts, and the process doesn’t begin again until you wake. You don’t know why you have to be awake for this, unless he’s trying to torture you, but he sets the knife down every so often to assure you it isn’t personal. How could it not be personal? He’s carving into your skin, peeling back long strips of it with agonizing slowness, stopping only when you fall unconscious or when his hands grow too slick with your blood to hold the blade. There’s no rhyme or reason to where he’s cutting you. Your left shoulder. Your right forearm. A spot on the side of your torso that feels like it takes hours upon hours to peel back. Every time you black out, you pray that you won’t wake up, that the conjurer won’t be able to rouse you. And every time, your eyes open again.

It's been quiet in the room, save for the conjurer’s voice and your unheeded screams, but after some endless amount of time, you hear another voice. “Too much blood loss,” it says, low and rumbling. “We’re running out of excisions.”

“There’s nothing to worry about. I expected her to be strong-willed, and we have plenty of excisions left for my purposes,” Shigaraki Akira says. “When we exhaust our options on the anterior, we’ll turn her to expose the rest. The one on her back is quite fresh.”

What’s on your back? You know Tomura left scratches there last night – and then you understand what the conjurer’s doing, what he’s spent the last interminable hours carving out of your skin. He’s removing the marks Tomura left on you. All of them, one by one.

You don’t know why he thinks Tomura will be happy with this. Seeing what’s been done to you will enrage him. You wonder what time it is, whether anyone’s noticed you’re missing, whether anyone’s asked where you are. How long will it take Tomura to realize you aren’t coming home? How long is he going to be angry at you before he realizes that something’s gone wrong? You think of him pacing inside the house, Phantom following him, anxious because he is. You wish you were anywhere but here, but more than anything, you wish you were home with them. You’re never going to see them again. Your throat, raw from screaming, closes off. Tears begin to drip down your cheeks, and the next time the knife cuts into your skin, you endure it in sobs instead of screams.

Your other arm. Your opposite shoulder. The other side of your waist. At some point the conjurer inserts an IV, and fresh blood begins to flow drop by drop into your veins. He wants you alive. Why? You try to make yourself listen to what he’s saying, to learn anything that might help you survive, but there’s nothing. Just the friendly exterior, the friendly voice, and the hands cutting you apart piece by piece.

“I can’t call this failure Tomura’s,” he muses as he carves a piece of flesh out of your upper arm. “He doesn’t know any better. Toshinori, on the other hand – the fact that I snatched you from under his nose will haunt him for the rest of his pathetic human life.”

You want to defend Mr. Yagi, but there’s nothing left of your voice. It’s almost as raspy as Tomura’s, and you’ve barely used it for anything but sobs and weak whimpers of pain. The conjurer’s voice takes on a dangerous note. “Nothing to say? Your stubbornness was charming at first. Now it’s getting excessive.” He jabs the knife into your skin, peels a strip back, and you wail like a wounded animal. “There’s no point in resisting. No one is coming for you. No one knows where you are. No one even knows you’re gone. The longer you resist, the worse it will be.”

No one knows you’re gone. That means it’s still the same day, because if he’s been watching you, he knows what time you’d be expected home. How is it the same day? It feels like it’s been forever. “That’s right,” the conjurer continues. “The longer you hold out, the more painful this will be. When it ends is entirely up to you.”

When it ends? Your mind is too hazy with blood loss and pain to come up with an answer, and before you can even come close, the knife bites into your skin again. You pass out almost instantly. He revives you just as quickly. It begins all over again.

You can tell the conjurer is growing frustrated with your unwillingness to do whatever it is he wants you to do. You also have a feeling he’s running out of marks to carve away, and sure enough, he orders for you to be uncuffed and rolled over, so he can reach the marks on your back. They uncuff your legs first. Nobody’s trying too hard to prevent you from running, which makes sense. You can’t run. You don’t even know that you could stand.

When your right hand’s uncuffed, the conjurer takes one look and bursts out laughing. “How did I miss this?” he asks, pulling the bracelet from your wrist. “Shimura’s work. Of course she’d continue to plague me from beyond the grave.”

Conjurers can’t touch the souls of the dead. If you die, you’ll be free of this. Free from him. The thought comes to you, settles around you, comforting and cold. You don’t have to survive this. It can end. You can go.

Shigaraki Akira laughs. “So this token was the underpinning of your resolve. Moonfish, retrieve the ghost. We’re ready.”

His voice is benevolent again, almost cooing, with a sickly undertone that makes you want to tear off the rest of your skin. He uncuffs your other wrist without looking, without spotting the bracelet there, covered in blood and practically glued to your skin. “I imagine Tomura will be very fond of my gift. Once your binding is complete, he’ll have no need to embody himself again.”

A ghost. He called for a ghost, and he’s talking about binding – a Nomu. Tomura’s conjurer is planning to turn you into a Nomu. He tortured you until you lost your will to go on, and as if you needed proof that he succeeded, you’re lying completely unrestrained on the table without even the faintest urge to run. “As for this,” Shigaraki continues, “it’s only fitting that I break Shimura’s last trinket on the day I break her ghost’s will.”

He raises the bracelet and slams it down on the table. You hear it crack. A sheet of white light blasts through the room.

You don’t understand what’s happening. It feels like it happens too fast, and at the same time, you see it in slow motion. Shigaraki’s blown backwards, clawing at his face and howling. The table you were tied to tips and overturns. There’s a sharp sting as the IV comes out of your arm, and pain explodes through your body as you hit the ground and sprawl out. Your mind’s a second or two behind the times. You’re sprawled out on the ground. Your arms and legs are free. You could get up, if you wanted to. You could run.

You struggle to your knees, try to stand, and realize that crawling’s your best bet. In the wreckage of the laboratory, nobody’s paying attention to you – they’re all trying to aid Tomura’s conjurer, who’s still howling in pain. You gather your strength and what’s left of your resolve and crawl for the door.

The operating room was clean and pitilessly bright, but the hallway outside is dingy, and crawling through it feels like it’s going to give you twenty kinds of diseases. It’s that thought that forces you to your feet, and not a second too soon. One of the conjurer’s minions is hurrying down the hallway towards you, carrying a matte-black box that’s rattling in his grip. You don’t even think before you act. You reach out and swat it from his hands, and the instant it strikes the floor, the ghost inside it bursts free.

The ghost could kill you. You see her thinking about it, but then the conjurer’s servant lunges through her, towards you, and she materializes all at once. You’ve never seen a ghost trap someone else with its own body before, and it’s hideous. So is what’s happening to the minion – massive dents are appearing in his body, like the way a car looks after a few rounds in a demolition derby. His eyes are blank as his body deforms, but the ghost looks at you. She has dark skin and pale hair and a look of unrestrained fury in her red eyes. “Run.”

You don’t need to be told more than once. You set off down the hall as fast as you can go, stumbling on almost every step. If anyone catches you, you’re doomed, but if you can get out of the building, maybe – you think about your home, Phantom. Tomura. But even if you make it out of here, you don’t know where you are. You don’t have money or your phone or your ID. You don’t even have clothes. When you hit the street, you’ll be doing it bloodstained and in your underwear, and there’s no guarantee that you’ll make it that far. You remind yourself again. Phantom. Tomura. You have to.

Something seizes you from behind, and your destroyed vocal cords shudder around a scream – but it’s only the ghost from the box. She begins to drag you down the hall, much faster than you were able to move on your own. “I’ll get you out, but that’s it,” she says through clenched teeth. “Whatever you did in there, do it again as soon as we’re outside.”

You still have the other bracelet. You nod and struggle to pick up speed, but the ghost makes an irritated sound and yanks you completely off your feet. It’s faster this way. Still, you’d give almost anything not to see the long smear of blood your body is leaving on the ground, and of course being dragged around like this hurts. Everything hurts. You’ve never felt pain like this before. All you want is for it to stop.

No, that’s not all you want. You want to go home. You think of Phantom, think of Tomura, and hold on tight as the ghost kicks down a door and drags you through onto the street.

It’s almost full dark. The air smells sooty and metallic, which tells you that you’re in the old manufacturing district, a long way from anybody who could have heard you scream. The ghost drops you next to the building and gestures impatiently. “Do it. You’ll need every second of a head start.”

You raise your left hand and bang your wrist against the wall of the building. Not hard enough. You throw yourself against the wall, hoping your body weight will do the trick, but there’s no luck there, either. “We’re too close,” the ghost says suddenly. “Give me that.”

She pries the bracelet off your wrist, drags you five feet, ten feet, twenty feet away, then hurls the bracelet against the wall from a distance. The blast of light takes a chunk out of the side of the building, and the entire thing begins to collapse – but that’s all you see of it. The ghost drags you away from the damaged building, towards the more populated downtown. As bad as being dragged across the floor in the warehouse was, being dragged across concrete is worse. You black out after about three seconds, and this time, there’s no conjurer trying to wake you up.

The next time you come to, you’re huddled in an alleyway, limbs flopping uselessly as the ghost tries to stuff you into a set of clothes that smell freshly stolen. “Go out there,” she snaps at you once she sees you’re awake. “Someone will see this and help you. This is as far as I go.”

“Thank you,” you mumble. “You got me out –”

“We got each other out. He dropped my box because of you.” The ghost straightens your shirt, then hauls you upright by the front of it. “Good luck, human.”

“Wait,” you say, and the ghost glances at you again. “What’s your name?”

“Rumi.” The ghost dematerializes and vanishes completely.

Rumi’s saved your life, and now she’s saving her own. The rest is up to you. You lean against the wall for a moment, fighting off the urge to lay down and give up, then start down the alleyway and into the street.

It’s a street you recognize. You lived near here, in the last apartment you had before you bought your house. It’s been almost two years. You don’t know anyone here you can ask for help, so you struggle down the sidewalk, pausing at one of the city’s few remaining payphones before realizing that you don’t have anyone’s number memorized. You could look through the phone book – Mr. Yagi’s almost certainly listed – but that would take money and time, and you’re getting unsteadier on your feet by the second. You spot the sign for the train station up ahead and aim for it. The train will take you out of the city, and maybe you can sit down.

Hopping the turnstiles is something you’re familiar with, but your muscles are desperately weak. You get one leg over, then get stuck, and sprawl out hard on the tiles on the far side. You know you leave smears of blood when you get to your feet, but the clothes Rumi stole for you don’t show it except in slick, dark spots, and there are so many of them that it probably looks like a pattern in the fabric. You leave the bloody outline of your body on the floor and pick yourself up again, dragging yourself onto the first train that pulls into the station. You hope it’s the right one.

On board, you huddle in your seat, shivering. You’ve always liked the cold, but you’re used to being cold on the outside – from air or water or wind or from Tomura wrapping himself around you, visible or not. This cold is crawling up from inside you, cold like the world between, hollowing you out one cell at a time. No matter how tightly you curl up, you can’t shake it. It hurts so badly. Everything hurts, and there’s no one to help you, and you’re so far from home. And even if you make it, you’re a mess. You’ll have scars, horrible ones, and enough nightmares to keep you awake for the rest of your life. Imagining going back to work, back to your life, feels impossible. What’s the point?

The point is Phantom, who loves you. The point is Tomura, who loves you too, who will never forgive you if you leave him like this, or at all. You have to keep it together for them. At least long enough to see them one more time.

By some miracle you got on the right train, the one that runs all the way out of the city proper to reach your stop. When you hear your stop called, you haul yourself upright and stagger off the train, leaving another bloodstain on the seat you were in. You almost make it down the stairs from the platform, but you miss a step and fall down three more, sprawling out headfirst on the concrete. You barely bring your arms up in time to shield your face. And then you’re stuck. You don’t have the energy to pick yourself back up again, and even if you could, it’s still miles between you and home. Instead of trying to rise again, you curl up, whimpering when the movement breaks the few scabs that have managed to form over your wounds. You have a hard time imagining you have any blood left to lose.

This is it. This is how you die, then – in a bloody heap on the sidewalk, because you could escape but you couldn’t make it home. You’re going to leave him. It’s the last thing you want, but you can’t help it. Maybe you can find some way to stick around, just like Yoichi did, but deep in your heart you know you’re not that strong. You’ll leave Tomura, go where humans go, and you’ll never see each other again.

The thought makes you cry, but crying hurts your throat, and the horrible raspy sounds you’re making do a great job of covering up the sound of a car pulling over. Then the sound of footsteps. But there’s no way you can miss the sound of your own name, shouted in a familiar voice. “Hey, where have you been?” Spinner demands. “If you don’t get back soon, Tomura’s going to – wait, are you okay? Did you fall?”

“I knew I smelled blood!” Himiko’s here, too. You hear a car door slam shut, and more footsteps darting towards you. “A lot of blood. Not all of it’s hers.”

“Did she kill somebody?” A hand reaches out and shakes your shoulder, then recoils – just like you’re doing, because their hand came down over one of your wounds. “Fuck, look at this. She didn’t try to kill somebody, they tried to kill her. Get her up.”

Hands seize you – at least three sets of hands, three people pulling you upright. “Careful,” Spinner is pleading. “Don’t touch the blood –”

“I can’t do shit about that. It’s everywhere.” Now you can place the third voice – it’s Dabi. What is Dabi doing out here? “Something fucked her up bad.”

You force your eyes open and see that you’re being carried towards the dark shape of the Buibaigawara family’s minivan. Jin is in the driver’s seat, and you see him grinning at you. “Hey, there you are! We gotta get – Himiko, shit, is that blood? Did you do that?”

“I wouldn’t,” Himiko snaps at him, sounding more than a little hurt. “Somebody cut Tomura’s human. We have to take her to the hospital.”

“No.” The voice from the passenger seat sounds more like Kurogiri than Shirakumo right now. “We must return to the neighborhood.”

“You’re not the one with her blood all over your hands. She could be dying!” Spinner protests. “If we get her to the hospital –”

“She’s vulnerable to the conjurer,” Kurogiri says. Dabi, Spinner, and Himiko dump you into the middle row of seats in the van and he twists around to look at you. “He’s the one who did this.”

“I got away.” You cringe from the sound of your own voice. “He got hurt. Maybe dead.”

“Did you see the body?” Dabi asks. You shake your head. “If you didn’t see it, he’s not dead.”

“He’s right. If Tomura wasn’t materialized when it happened, the conduit was still open, and he could have used Tomura’s power to survive.” Spinner looks miserable. “We can’t know for sure.”

“We have to go back,” Kurogiri repeats. “Jin, drive.”

The minivan lurches into motion. Himiko and Spinner are trying to figure out what to do about your injuries, while Dabi gets on the phone. “We’ve got her. Pull everybody back,” he says. You can’t hear the other person’s response, but you hear Dabi’s answer. “She looks like something mauled her.”

“It’s not that bad,” Spinner says hastily, trying to reassure you. It’s – sweet. “You’re going to be fine. I bet they’re not as bad as they – holy shit –”

Himiko’s just pulled up your shirt. Spinner rolls down the window in a hurry and sticks his head out, gagging, while Himiko stares for a moment with her jaw dropped. Then her pupils narrow to slits, sheer rage settling over her face. “He cut out Tomura’s marks,” she says. Dabi swears into the phone, then swears again as the person on the other end of the line barks at him in response. “I’ll cut him.”

You always thought Tomura’s thing about not touching other ghosts’ humans was just a weird Tomura thing, given how much time Dabi and Hizashi spend lowkey threatening you, but apparently it’s not. The idea of someone removing a ghost’s marks on their human is enough to seriously piss off Dabi, Himiko, and Kurogiri at once, until the car is crackling with their fury. “Can you guys cool it?” Jin asks anxiously. “I’m a nervous driver.”

“You sped the whole way here!”

“I was nervous about finding her. Now I’m nervous about you guys blowing up my mom’s car,” Jin says. “What’s going on is fucked. I want to kill something! But if even I can pick up on what all of you are doing, Tomura will, too.”

“We can’t let that happen,” Spinner says at once. “If he finds out about this he’ll go ballistic. There’s no way he’ll stick to the plan.”

“You can’t just hide it. I could smell her blood from down the street.” Himiko peers at you, her pupils dilating again. “And her soul’s not right. It’s unstuck, kind of. It’s wrong. He’ll know. He’ll know his marks are gone, too.”

Dabi hangs up the phone, then dials another number. He speaks while it’s ringing. “I’m letting the humans know. He can’t read them like he reads us. When we get back, you all get on her and stay there. You too, Kurogiri. As long as she smells like the neighborhood he might not notice.”

“She’s still bleeding,” Spinner says loudly. “If we bring her back and she dies –”

“Keigo knows doctor shit. He can help her.” Whoever Dabi’s calling picks up the phone, and Dabi starts talking. “Yeah, we’ve got her. She’s fucked up. Here’s what we’ll do –”

You’re among friends now. People who will help you, whether it’s out of obligation or because they care, and now that you know you’re not going to die alone, it’s somehow harder to hang on. The drive back to the neighborhood goes by in a long, slow blink, punctuated by Himiko and Spinner repeatedly shaking you awake. “Come on,” Spinner says, still sounding sort of like he wants to throw up. “You have to make it through this. Tomura’s naming his Pokémon all kinds of stupid shit and you’re the only one who can talk him out of it.”

“Stay awake,” Himiko tells you. She’s been patting your cheek lightly, which you don’t mind. Your face and neck are the only parts of you that the conjuror left untouched. “You’re my only human girl neighbor. I’ll be sad if you die. Tomura will be so sad if you die. You don’t want him to be sad, do you? You love him. Humans don’t want the people they love to be sad.”

“Ghosts don’t, either,” Dabi mutters. Then, to Jin: “Park at the top of the street, across the street. Everybody’s falling back to my house and the idiot’s. We could use the extra barricade.”

Jin skids to a stop at the top of the street, and Spinner opens the door. You see people hurrying up the street towards you and identify them distantly – Keigo, Hizashi. They reach you just as everyone else is hauling you out of the car. Hizashi takes one look at you and swears, his pupils narrowing to slits just like Himiko’s did. The embodied ghosts never look more inhuman than when they’re angry. “When he gets here, I’ll kill him myself.”

“Calm down,” Spinner begs. “If he figures it out –”

“He knows she’s back. If you’re any good at lying, Spinner, get down there and tell him we’re hiding her in my house so the conjurer won’t find her when he comes looking for him.” Hizashi’s a good liar, and it’s a logical plan, but you absolutely don’t want to be left alone with Hizashi right now. “Keigo, Dabi, with us. Everybody else, battle stations. Shigaraki’s on his way here, and he’s not happy.”

The group splits, Himiko bolting down the street while the others follow at a slower pace. You’ve had enough of a rest that you think you can maybe walk a few feet, past Atsuhiro’s house and up Aizawa’s front steps, if only so Tomura doesn’t spot you being carried and catch on to what’s really happening. Keigo hovers next to you, ready to catch you if you stumble, while Dabi and Hizashi trail behind you. “What are you doing up here?” Dabi asks Hizashi. “He trusts you about as far as he could throw your rotting corpse.”

“So, pretty far, then.” Hizashi ignores the disgusted noise Dabi makes. “He trusts my human more than me, and my human can lie to him better than I can. And since he’s got my human right now, he’s got all the leverage on me he needs to make sure I’m right here to take the hit against his asshole conjurer.”

“Fucking asshole. And I thought ours was bad.”

“Ours didn’t need us like his needs him.” Hizashi snarls low under his breath. “Cutting out the marks is a new low. It would have been better if he’d just killed her.”

“Don’t say that,” Keigo snaps at him. You push open the front door, then stumble over the threshold into the house. Keigo catches you, guiding you towards the kitchen, and – “Hey, calm down! I just need to get a look at your injuries!”

You can’t look at the kitchen table without feeling sick. “I’m not laying there.”

“Fine. The living room. Get on the floor.”

The floor is fine. It has a carpet, and Keigo yanks a pillow off the couch for you to prop your head on before he pulls out a pair of scissors and starts cutting away your bloody clothes. He studies you and sucks in a breath. “Okay, cleaning these out and bandaging them is the best I can do, but it’s not going to be enough. The skin’s the biggest organ in the body and right now it’s got a bunch of holes in it. You need antibiotics and some of that fake skin as soon as we can get it, or sepsis will set in and kill you.”

“You can’t just stitch it up?” Dabi asks. “That’s what you did for me.”

You wonder what the story was there. “These are too wide for me to do it with what I’ve got here,” Keigo says. He looks down at you. “The cleaning part is going to suck. Can you keep quiet?”

You nod. He doesn’t look convinced, so you clear your throat and try to talk. “I can take it. It won’t be as bad as when it happened.”

“What happened, exactly?” Hizashi asks. He’s at the front window, while Dabi leans with his back to the door. “We’ve been careful. You had those bracelets. When did we get made?”

“Same day –” The cleaning process starts in earnest, and you hiss in pain. “Same day we killed Garaki. I left to get the plants. I met him at the nursery.”

Dabi makes a skeptical noise. “You had the bracelets. Those things work. He shouldn’t have been able to tell.”

“He could.” You bite the inside of your cheek and try not to howl. What was it that Shigaraki said? “He said I had ghostly energy. That I was full of it.”

“Ugh. Don’t tell me shit like that. I don’t want to know.”

“That’s not what he meant,” Hizashi says suddenly. He turns to look at you, and if you didn’t know better, you’d say he looks like he’d seen a ghost. “When did you meet him? Before Tomura’s lesson or after?”

The fact that Keigo’s helping you instead of hurting you on purpose doesn’t make what he’s doing hurt even less. You squeeze your eyes shut. “After.”

“Fuck,” Hizashi mumbles. “It’s my fault.”

“Huh?” Keigo sounds puzzled. “It sounds like bad luck.”

“It’s not. I made Tomura practice discharging power before the fight, and I made him practice on her.” Hizashi’s voice is full of venom. “He’s got the self-control of an elephant on an acid trip, so of course he overdid it. The bracelets wouldn’t have done shit to hide her after that. Anybody who was looking could have seen her from space.”

You remember something he said that day: She’ll glow in the dark until it wears off. Hizashi was trying to make you leave, but all he did was turn you into a walking signpost pointed directly at the neighborhood. Is it his fault? Blaming him would feel good, maybe, if none of the rest of this had happened. You don’t want to think about it. All you want is not to hurt anymore.

It’s cold, and getting colder. You think some of that could be the blood loss, and the fact that your clothes are partially in tatters once again, but when you exhale, you can see your breath. Keigo notices, too, and you watch the blood drain from his face. “Guys –”

Hizashi and Dabi are huddled by the window. “These can’t all be his,” Hizashi is hissing.

“They’re not. I’ve seen some of them before,” Dabi hisses. “They’re like you. They came here on purpose, and now they’re free.”

“And they’re following him?” Keigo says, incredulous. “Why?”

“For kicks? I don’t know.” Hizashi shrugs uselessly. “I’m a little out of touch these days.”

You can hear low whispering from outside the house, and the air is getting colder by the second. If everybody else is down at the other end of the street – “Call them. Warn them –”

“They know already,” Hizashi says grimly. “Trust me.”

Just like Garaki before him, Tomura’s conjurer speaks first. The mirror sound of his voice makes you cringe and curl in on yourself. “Good evening, Tomura,” Shigaraki Akira says. “What a quiet life you’ve led since we last saw each other.”

Dabi and Hizashi rose to the bait instantly when Garaki called out to them. Tomura stays silent. “Not even a greeting?” Shigaraki asks, and clucks his tongue. “I suppose I never taught you manners.”

“You’re trespassing.” Tomura’s voice rings out, vibrating with power. “This is my neighborhood. Get out.”

Shigaraki clucks his tongue again. “Poor thing. I see now that I’ve been neglectful. I should never have left you with the impression that this was your home.”

“How many are out there?” Keigo asks, keeping his voice low.

“Hundreds,” Dabi says, and the floor feels as though it’s fallen out beneath you. “Nomus. Embodied ghosts. Live ones.”

“None of them are his,” Hizashi says. There’s a savage note in his voice. “He’s only got one.”

Tomura hasn’t responded to his conjurer’s latest taunt. His conjurer speaks again. “You’ve built quite a comfortable existence for yourself, haven’t you? A secluded kingdom. Servants who bend to your whims. Even a human of your own.”

“What human?” Tomura scoffs. “I don’t have a human.”

Even knowing he’s trying to protect you, even knowing that he’s lying, your heart sinks. “You know better than to lie to me,” the conjurer says. That almost-indulgent note is back in his voice.  You roll to one side and dry-heave onto Aizawa’s carpets. “Where is the human girl? Has she failed to return home?”

“She’s home,” Tomura snaps. “Safe from you.”

“Have you seen her?” Shigaraki inquires. He sounds honestly concerned. “Who told you that she’s home? The others? The ones who fear your wrath so deeply that they have every reason to lie?”

“She’s here.” This time, it’s Shirakumo who answers – Shirakumo, not Kurogiri. “You know I’m telling the truth, Tomura. So is Himiko.”

“Yes, your human is home,” the conjurer agrees. “But safe? I think not. Dabi, Hizashi, Keigo – come out. Bring Tomura’s human to him.”

“No,” Tomura says, but there’s an uncertain note in his voice. “Stay where you are.”

“Come out,” the conjurer repeats. “No one will harm you on your way. Tomura’s human is in a delicate condition. I won’t risk anyone dropping her.”

He’s pretending like he’s not the one who did this to you. Like he really cares about making sure you get back to Tomura safely. “Stay where you are,” Tomura orders again. “You can’t trust him.”

“I’m the only one here who’s telling you the truth,” Shigaraki says. “Hizashi, Dabi, Keigo. Bring the human out. If you won’t, I’ll be forced to send my friends to retrieve her – and unlike me, they don’t much care about preserving your lives.”

You lift your head with an effort and see Dabi and Hizashi trade a glance. Then they turn from the window and come towards you. “It’s strategy,” Hizashi insists as he drops a coat over you, as Dabi hoists you upright. “If they come get us here, we’re all dead. Your house is a lot easier to defend.”

But he wouldn’t let you go back unless he thought it wouldn’t matter. He’s playing all of you, and you’re too weak and exhausted to see what his endgame is. You’re semiconscious as Keigo, Dabi, and Hizashi carry you down the front steps, but you keep your eyes open with an effort, and you see the conjurer’s army parting the way to make a path, one that runs straight as an arrow down the street until it reaches your house. Hizashi sets a brisk pace, just below a jog, and you jostle along between he and the others. You don’t see where the conjurer is, but you hear his voice. “Very good,” he says, encouraging. “A wise choice. I’m sure Tomura will be merciful in turn.”

You hear the others’ voices as you get closer to the house, all of them trying for damage control. You start agitating to be set down. You can’t risk Tomura losing his temper on the others, and the worse off he thinks you are, the angrier he’ll be. He needs to see that you’re fine. You’ll be fine. Keigo sets you down carefully, then steps in close, arm around you to hold you upright. You survive the step up onto the sidewalk and shuffle along until you’re walking parallel to your own fenced yard. You have to keep walking. You have to keep walking long enough for Tomura to let Hizashi and Dabi in, or he’ll strand them outside.

The gate swings open as you reach it, and Tomura’s voice drifts in from nowhere. “She wasn’t wearing that when she left,” he says. Dabi steps through, then Hizashi, and he shuts the gate behind him. You have time to register that every last one of your neighbors is inside the property line before your vision begins to blur. It’s not blurry enough to block out Tomura as he materializes at the top of the front steps. His next question is for you. “Why were you late?”

You can’t talk. Talking will give it away. You climb the first step, then the next, and it’s not until you’re just outside the warm glow of the porch light that your legs give out.

[otrtbs]

hi!!

thank you so much for everything that you’ve contributed to this fandom, seriously, your time has been invaluable. people treat fanfic authors like a writing machine, but no, this is just your hobby!!

i was wanting to ask about your writing process:

1. when writing, do you usually write most/all of your fic before starting to post it?

2. how much do you outline before starting to write?

3. how do you keep up with what seems to be a semi regular posting schedule (as in like, staying committed to a fic and actually completing it lol)

sorry if you’ve already answered any of these before :)

hey hey heyo!!! this is so sweet!!

it honestly depends! with ahb!, i had a very good direction and plan on where i was taking the fic so i knew each chapter before i sat down to write it! but winterlude was more free-form. i was like, i want these 15 things to happen over 4 chapters lets make it work! and then with the dinner fic, that's one that i am writing out in its entirety before i post it. because there's a lot of details and web-weaving that go into it, and if i drop a thread somewhere it'll make the whole tory unravel, so it has to be complete before anyone else sees it. so it really depends on the vibe/intricacy of the fic!!

most of the time i'll try to outline a solid timeline with beginning and then major points to the end in chronological order. (so with art heist imagine like: 1. james introduction. 2. job interview/acquisition 3. assembling the heist team 4. meeting the team 5. new hampshire training 6. practice heist 7. heist 8. art swaps (berlin/amsterdam/portofino/copenhagen) 9. regulus death 10. grieving 11. healing 12. ending) <- and then i would go in and fill in things like,,, how does a jegulus relationship develop amidst all of this? and then you get sub-plot points like the museum date, the drowning degas, the auction house date, etc. until you get a pretty good fleshed-out idea! and then as i write and have even more ideas, i can plop them down somewhere on the timeline (amsterdam coffeeshop meeting/last supper group dinner/ etc) . and before writing each chapter,,, i sort of break chapters down into mini-stories with their own beginnings, middle, ends. just to make sure something is happening in each chapter, and it has structure.

this is putting so much faith in me hahah!! my posting schedule ranges from twice in one week to once in 4-6 months. and sometimes i just delete works if im not feeling them anymore ah! but!! i will say, the biggest way i stay committed to completing a story is having an ending in mind that i'm excited to execute or get to!! like something on the horizon at the end of the story normally motivates me to write enough to get to that point. but it's also just okay to stop writing a certain story if you're feeling uninspired!! sometimes, when i'm feeling burnt-out with one story and i'm not motivated to finish it, i'll just leave it alone and go work on something i'm actually interested in for a while until i feel the interest spark up again!! (hence...months between uploads sometimes) 😋

[blinger301]

Royalty! AU

Somewhere in the kingdom of Gryffindor, prince Harry had just welcomed the guests of some of the most respectable families around for an important occasion. His birthday had just arrived, and he was of the most respectable age. 18.

He was meant to act of his age, but what would life be unless it wasn't a little thrilling? That was what a kind young girl had once taught him. She had the most luxurious head of red hair that fit her oh so perfectly. Her freckles only enhancing the beauty of her face and the darkness of her eyes.

She was a angel on earth. Her name? Miss Ginevra Weasley. 

They had met at the early age of him 12 and she 11. Official anyway. They had crossed paths a few times, but had only officially met through their parents. She had been a huge change to his life since then on. And so was her family.

She had expected to arrive at 3:00pm at the latest, with the time being 2:41pm as of now. Then his long time friend, Draco Malfoy, was also set to arrive then.

They had met at the age of 11. They had been at each other's side ever since. Even though he and Ginevra had not seen eye to eye at times, they were still able to get along. Now, he would be able to see them again after 4 years since they last separated.

The red-haired angel and the blonde pointy noser Ponce. All together once more. He wondered if Heir Malfoy still had such a ridiculous hair style. 

He chuckled at the thought of him being an exact replica of his own father. Uptight and pointy. Soon the long awaited carriages pulled up simultaneously, surprisingly enough.

First stepped out the glamorous Ginevra Weasley in a beautiful emerald green dress. It hung loosely on her shoulders but clung beautifully around her waist. She elegantly got out of the carriage but walked clumsily toward Harry due to the height of the dress.

It was rather amusing.

"Harry!! Nice to see you! Happy Birthday." She gave her greeting as she hug him. Harry thanked her in return before getting a whiff of lavender. It was calming until her relatives rushed by with hurried greeting and a few back pats.

They really are an interesting bunch.

Then came a glamorous silver carriage with a beautiful engraved M in the middle. No doubt who this belonged to. Lady Malfoy and Lord Malfoy stepped out first, before walking toward them arm in arm. They exchanged familiarities and well wishes before going inside.

Ginny and Harry stared at the open carriage in anticipation for the other guest of honor. But nothing. "Get out of there Malfoy, before I come myself!" Ginny warned, tired of his antics. She was met with an indecent gesture.

'Yep. He's in there.' Harry chuckled to himself.

Leaving Ginny irritated. She almost went over before he finally emerged. And he was one word, amazing.

His hair had grown a lot, which was why it was tied in a pristine ponytail. Did Harry send the wrong information, "Well if it isn't Weaslette and Scar head." He teased. 

Now Harry knew that was him. 

Draco hugged Ginny for a while before turning to Harry. He expected a hug as well but all he got was a smile and a pat on the back before Draco sauntered inside.

Harry didn't know if that was the same bratty Ponce he once knew when he saw how easily he went along with the guests. Shaking hands and conversing only to politely leave afterwards. This was just very confusing.

There was no way he could have gone from pointy nosed git to angelic faced royalty. It made absolutely no sense. When Ginny patter him on the shoulder that was how he snapped out of his stupor.

"You good? You seem...frustrated." She showed concern as she patted down his collar. Harry merely said he was fine, so she let him be. This is what he liked about her the most. She was understanding.

They finally made their way inside. Ginny left to meet some of her friends that came, leaving Harry to his own devices. He scanned the crowd in content. Happy with how everyone was so happy and relaxed. A good way to spend the day. His mother along with Miss Weasley and Lady Malfoy were by the tea table chatting, while the father's were by the champagne tower.

It was going splendidly, "Enjoying your party?" He heard a whisper beside him. Only to turn and see Draco with a glass of champagne.

"Yeah, it's quite nice." Harry replied, only to receive a small hum from Draco as he slipped on his champagne. They stood there for a while before Draco broke the silence.

"So how is 'The Wooing Of Miss Ginevra' going?" Harry grimaced at the words that left Draco's lips. He and Draco had made this whole plan for Harry to get into Ginny's good graces. And now that he looked back it was quite embarrassing.

"You still remember that? It was a bit childish now that I look back at it." He answered without missing a beat. He was not going to let Draco win this silent game they had going on. After that, they went back into silence.

A few people approached them for a little conversation, to which they both complied with. Overall the party was getting quite full. And Ginny had yet to appear, so they had no idea what was to be done now.

Draco put his glass down on a nearby table, "Let's get some air, you look like you could fall any second from boredom." Before Harry could protest, he grabbed him by the arm before pulling him away toward the fields.

They had passed by Ginny heading the opposite way, so naturally Draco pulled her along as well.

"Slow down!! I can barely run in these death traps." She bellowed, gesturing to the tight restrictions of her black flats. They had quickly arrived at a big oak tree in the middle of the pastures. It was obvious great memories lay there.

Draco nudged Harry, "Put your coat down for the lady to sit. Who taught you manners." He pulled the coat off of Harry and lay it down on the grass for Ginny to sit. Who just giggled and went along with it.

Harry crossed his arms and pouted, "Seriously?"

"Stop whining. It is your duty to tend to the guests." Draco waddled a finger at him like a nagging mother before taking a seat beside Ginny. He put his head on her shoulder before engaging in a conversation with her.

Harry just watched, irritated. They just laughed casually when necessary, not once added Harry. He knew this was bound to happen, but he let it happen.

When he looked back at them, green met silver and Harry was officially in trouble.