#He had no family he was a horrible mean teacher and indeed got his job only because he had Señor Murillo’s patronage

[lieutenant-amuel]

It’s funny how I always assumed that the most “relatable” OC of mine to me was Frida because I basically gave her my personality but now I realize the closest character to me is Emilio.

[aronarchy]

(@/eviltothecore13 on 10/10/22 in the replies of this post):

Please, please, stop saying “the homeschooling movement” as if there’s one homeschooling movement across the whole world! this post is so US-centric… there are parts of the world where the majority of homeschoolers are not religious at all. I was homeschooled in the UK after my parents took me out of school because of the abuse I suffered there. We are not Christian or religious at all.

My best friend at my homeschool group was Jewish, taken out of school by his very left-wing mother after he experienced horrific antisemitism as well as bullying for being autistic. Most of the rest of us were not particularly religious, there were a couple of Muslims, and yes a handful of people who were to some extent Christian but that wasn’t their motivation for homeschooling. My parents never hit me. My teachers at school thought they should have done.

Was it ideal? not in every way, no. It costs money, it’s not accessible to poorer families or to families where both parents are out at work all day, and seeing different people every day at various groups and classes but never seeing any one person more regularly than once a week does make it harder to form close friendships (then again, it means you don’t end up inescapably trapped with the same bully every day.)

But we were a group of people who had tried the school system, public and private, been mistreated, been traumatised, had the schools try to blame it on us simply being “bad kids,” and found our parents were our only allies and the only people still willing to even TRY to give us an education. It was a rural county. If you got a bad reputation at one school it would follow you to the next because everyone knew each other and teachers gossiped about their students.

Whereas the homeschool group and the tutors there welcomed you whether you were autistic, ADHD, dyspraxic, dyslexic, dyscalculic, atheist, Jewish, Muslim, a POC, GNC (to my knowledge no-one was out as queer, but only because we were all young and figuring it out and we were in a homophobic area in general—the environment was certainly far less homophobic than school though, and definitely none of my friends who did go to school were out as queer at that age either)

It can be horrible. If the parents don’t have the child’s best interests at heart, if they’re authoritarian, then it can indeed put a terrible amount of power in their hands. If the parents are like mine, who listen to the child and respect them as a person, who consider it their JOB to listen to their child’s wishes and do their best to make them happy, then it gives far more power to the CHILD than the school system does.

If I disliked a tutor or a textbook or anything about my education, I could discuss it with my parents and we’d find a way to change it. It is MUCH harder to do that in the school system—believe me, as someone who tried to express my problems with teachers who abused me to the school system MULTIPLE times and NEVER got the school system to fire someone or even to put me in a different class.

And you say “the homeschooling movement” when you seem to only mean the American Christian one… I’d never heard of the HSLDA before this post, they’re NOT A THING over here, apparently they’re a “Christian organisation” which immediately makes me distrust them, but homeschooling here has NOTHING to do with that movement, please stop acting as if the American experience is universal!

I suffered infinitely more from the stigma around homeschooling (from other kids: “so, why can’t you go to school? is there something wrong with you? are you [r-slur]?” “oh you're homeschooled? I bet you don’t even know the alphabet, I bet you’re stupid”—I took the same GCSE exams as every schoolkid while I was homeschooled and got all A*s) and from feeling like I had to be perfect to prove that stigma wrong than from anything to do with homeschooling in itself.

If I ever have children (which I don’t currently plan to) or ever find myself in a position of responsibility for a child, unless our school system and government has been radically reformed, I could not in good conscience send them to school to go through what I did when I was at school.

And even if under one government things improve… the next could fuck it up again… we used to have Section 28 banning schools from teaching kids that being queer was at all acceptable… imagine if that was brought back…

If an oppressive government comes into power, and the schools are suddenly teaching kids “people like you [your families, your friends, etc] don’t deserve human rights,” I think there needs to be a way for children to still get an education outside of the school system (though let’s face it, an oppressive government would quite possibly make homeschooling illegal anyway, the Nazis did).

Children should not be faced with a situation where their ONLY way to get the qualifications needed to go to university, get a job, etc is to go through an oppressive and abusive school system. They need to have the choice of whether to go to school or not, not be forced to go somewhere that abuses them with no alternative.

.

[mollywilcoxvo]

So, my RCCC experience today was waiting in line for a Taliesin Jaffe  autograph, and meeting a couple of interesting and kind humans waiting in line with me. When it came my turn, I wasn't sure what he'd say about it.

There's a lot of Critical Role characters wandering the con regularly, because they're just sort of... Well... There. They've kind of dominated the D&D scene. Not that this is a bad thing, it just is.

And here I am, in a Vampire character Cosplay of Carver from LA By Night - an anarch vampire who chose to turn a human rather than watch her die, not out of altruism, but because he knew she was capable of being someone who could potentially change the political world of Darkness. Not quite evil, but definitely not great.

So, I walk up, and he is still sort of getting his bearings from being photographed to all hell, and now in the autograph/selfie line... And he looks up and *really* gets a good look at me...

Taliesin (about my Carver Cosplay): Oh boy, oh man. OK, THAT'S cool. The hair...

Me: Yeah. He's honestly my favorite of your characters. And I got the necklace this morning to finish it off.

T: You - you know the meaning of the necklace, yes?

Me: Oh yes, yes indeed.

T: Cool, cool. Oh man that's... Wow.

Me: Oh, wait... Hold on... (I turn to show him the back of the jacket)

T: Holy. Wow, OK, yeah.

Me: yeah. I had to paint the back off season 4, because it was too perfect.

T: Man I loved That character. Dude, that. Yeah, wow. He was evil, I miss him...

Me: Thank you for everything you've done. It's weird, we actually have family history. My great uncle was George Heyes, who was a director/producer in Hollywood, and supposedly worked with George Axelrod at one point)

T: (scribbles down my gran-uncle's name, checking the spelling) Woah. OK. That is weird - I'm definitely going to look that information up. That's cool.

Me: Yeah it was that, and you, were part of my inspiration to go into voice acting.

T: Oh wow. Well, welcome - it's a weird gig. *chuckle*

It's interesting, because as much as he was gracious, and kind, thoughtful and lovely, I definitely appreciated the fact that  I wasn't even remotely in the same league as he and Anjali Bhimani.

A friend asked if Taliesin and I were going to hang out after and talk shop, and I had to laugh at the thought. I mean, sure, who wouldn't love to. But... I mean, if I had at least a couple of years in VO, I *might* ask if he was free to chat at some point to give me pointers... But I haven't even landed a single job.

I've only just barely scraped the surface of VO, and only had one voice teacher - Sonny Strait. And him telling me in a class that I had talent and he wanted me down in Dallas to record, isn't the same as actually getting a job.

Because of the panini, and a lack of funds, I couldn't go to Dallas and stake out Funimation and/or follow Sonny Strait around til he hired me as a background extra. So, I've had to go a different route as a storyteller. And, we don't have even a moderate following. I mean, it's not horrible, but it's definitely not up to CR or even By Night standards. We're just a little homegrown thing.

Being clear here - there is nothing wrong with being what we are. I'm incredibly proud of the work we've done, and the following we have - but it doesn't mean we have the chops of asking to hang with the big dogs.

And yes, I put people like Erika Iishi, Jesse Jerdak, Ginny D, and KP in that lineup as well. As much as I've appreciated the lovely and kind interactions I've had with them, they are well and beyond where I am in all of this. And that's OK. They've worked hard to earn where they are, and they've kept working every day for what they love to do.

I hope that if I end up getting to that level, I am able to remember that being kind is a free action, and is appreciated everywhere.

[bnha-more-like-bnh-gay]

Rarepair headcanons because I am ignoring my problems

Serodeku:

Izuku reenacts the Spider-Man movies with Sero. Izuku is MJ. They also alternate being Spider-Man sometimes

They skate together

They get very protective when people call their boyfriend “plain”

They play dnd together

Sero tries to make sure that izuku gets some rest

They’re both kinda insecure, izuku more than sero, but still; and they make sure to reassure each other as often as possible

Sero likes listening to Izuku’s ramblings and finds them cute. He has told izuku this, only for the poor boy to imitate a tomato

After Izuku has been particularly reckless, Sero takes advantage of his quirk, wraps Izuku in bubble wrap, and tapes it there

Tokodeku:

Jocknerd bf and goth bf, we love to see it

Tokoyami teaches izuku how to sword fight

They start a dnd club at U.A.

Izuku talks to dark shadow a lot, Dark Shadow approves of him, and has claimed the spot of best man at their wedding

Izuku comes up with ideas to help Tokoyami gain control with Dark Shadow

Dark Shadow is very protective over Izuku, no matter how many times Tokoyami tells him that he can take care of himself, Dark Shadow will put himself between Izuku and any form of danger as often as possible

Dekoyama??? Aoyama/izuku:

Aoyama gives him makeovers, obviously

Aoyama drags izuku to the mall and tries to revamp some of his wardrobe, but he actually finds the “pants” and “flannel” type shirts cute

They help each other train their quirks

Aoyama is trilingual, and teaching izuku English and French.

Izuku always brings Aoyama home some new cheese

Y’all, I love them so much. There needs to be more aodeku content

Monoshinsou:

They have people watching dates. They come up with stories for the people they’re watching; their job, family, background, etc.

They judge people together

They call each other “love”

They’re both dramatic bastards, who will flop onto their lovers lap and proclaim their death due to a minor inconvenience

They jokingly sh*t-talk class A

Shinsou said “I love you” first, and it was because Monoma brought him coffee to class

Monoyama:

Like monoshinsou, they’re both dramatic bastards, who will flop onto their lovers lap and proclaim their death due to a minor inconvenience

They go shopping together and pick out the most dramatic pieces of clothing for each other

I love them so much, please 😭✋

They have tea parties every week, where they sh*t talk everyone else and gossip

They are both fancy bastards, and they wear the most exquisite outfits to go grocery shopping, and the outshine everyone

They both actually make clothing, they’ll go fabric shopping together. Gift exchanges are often articles of clothing that they’ve made for each other

Momomei:

They work on gear together!!!

Momo makes sure that mei gets some sleep

Mei helps redesign momo’s suit

They often work together with izuku to work in gear and such

They actually got together after izuku introduced them. He had been working on gear with mei, and studying with momo and he thought they’d hit it off. He was correct

Shintsuyu:

Dude they’d be so cute

Tsu is a vent gremlin, and you can’t change my mind. So she and shinsou will play a game where they try to find each other. Tsu is in the vent and shinsou is in the classrooms. Shinsou will try to find whichever vent she’s in, or she’ll find whichever classroom he’s in, in 20 minutes or less

I always headcanoned tsu as a dog person, so they’d have two cats and two dogs, and a bunny that they named Deku

They like comparing their friends to animals, hence the bunny, Deku

Kamideku:

Kaminari is a flirt, and izuku does n o t know how to handle it

Kaminari likes listening to izuku’s ramblings, and can keep up with them. He’ll ask questions on things too, and Izuku has never felt more appreciated

I don’t know why I feel like they’d have so many animals, but I do. They’d have so many, man. Three cats, two dogs, four sugar gliders, a hamster

Adhd power couple. They hyperfixated on complimentary things at the same time one time

Kaminari tutors izuku in English, and izuku turots kami in some other subjects. He’s also teaching kami JSL on the side. Kaminari has a live of languages

Momochako:

Study dates, Momo asks ochako to quiz her a lot

Ochako takes to floating momo’s things when she wants attention. Especially when Momo is studying. She makes a game out of how many things she can float until the other girl notices

Uraraka’s confidence does wonders for momo’s. Uraraka always makes sure to reassure momo that she is strong and that she can do this

Momo makes Uraraka whatever her heart desires. Uraraka blushes all the time, and momo takes great pride in getting her girlfriend to blush

Minatoru:

Mina clings to everyone, but especially to toru

They give each other stuffed animals so often. They’ll go to the store to get food, and come back with three stuffed animals that reminded them of each other

Please, they’re so cute 😭✋

They will play hide and seek, I stand by this.

Mina helps toru design a new costume. I hate hers, it’s horrible, and sexist, and not suitable for a fucking child

Toru says that pink is her favorite color

They flirt with each other all the time. Half the class thinks it’s cute, half of them used to think it was cute.

Iidamomo:

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again, but study dates. they quiz each other, and it actually gets pretty competitive

They also have rage room dates. I will not budge on this. Iida tried to murder someone, and I am excited to see momo finally snap. She deserves it

They alternate paying for dates, don’t try me.

The go hiking a lot

They started liking each other after one late night, both having nightmares. Momo had tea, and offered some to Iida. They talked until the early hours of the morning

They can’t flirt. They try. But they’re horrible at it. They’ll compliment each other all day long, but they cannot flirt.

KIRIDEKU, MY BELOVED:

Y’all,,, y’all, I love them so much

They train together, obviously

They ran into each other one night in the common room after both having nightmares. They talked about middle school, how they were both bullied, izuku’s quirk coming in late, katsuki being abusive, kiri being bullied because his quirk wasn’t “cool.” After that, they were practically inseparable.

They started going on dates, not that either of them knew they were dates. The entire class knew, so did the teachers, so did the rest of U.A. Kirishima picked up on it first after a comment from Mina, he had is realization.

So, he started courting Izuku. Not thag izuku realized this. He brought him flowers on most ‘dates,’ he bought him hero action figures whenever he could, he complimented him until Izuku was red in the face (which was honestly very easy.) Still, izuku remained ignorant to the fact that he was indeed dating Kirishima.

The final tipping point, was due to Uraraka’s help. She was quite tired of watching the two of them pine for each other. It was amusing for the first couple months, watching Kirishima try so hard, and Deku being totally oblivious. However, she took pity on her friends after a while.

So, Uraraka devised a devilish plan to get the two together. She involved Mina, Sero, and kaminari in this plan. What was the plan, you ask? Oh, simply to trap the two in one room until they broke through izuku’s obliviousness.

Kirishima finally “straight” up admitted his feelings, to which Izuku had the sudden realization of “oh my gods, have we been dating this whole time??” Yes, Izuku. Yes you have.

They have two anniversaries after that.

Let’s be honest, they are really, annoyingly, horrifically lovey dovey. Kirishima brags about having “the manliest and bestest boyfriend in the world.” Izuku flaunts his many PowerPoint presentations on how talented and incredible Kirishima is

Uraraka doesn’t know if she did the right thing by helping them. She is so tired

Tsujirou:

Jirou makes playlists for tsu

The few sane ones in class A, I swear

They go on walks in the rain as often as they can

They go for dates in the bookstore too. They each pick out an album and a book for the other to listen to and read

Y’all, they make so much sense togetherrrrr, I’m love them 🥺

Jirou started liking tsu after the crew saved bakugou. Jirou sat with tsu after momo, Iida, kirishima, Todoroki, and izuku apologized and sat with her. They had movie night, and Jirou joined the Bakugou saving crew and tsu with taking well into the night. She just appreciated how much tsu cared

Tsu started liking Jirou after she helped Iida, momo, and izuku try to keep the class in order. She appreciated how diplomatic and calm she was

Jirou would talk to izuku all night long about how gay she was, and how adorable tsu was. So, izuku decided to try and suggest ways for Jirou to ask her out.

She did not end up getting to ask her out though, as Tsu walked up to her the next morning f and asked if she wanted to go on a date. Jirou said yes. Izuku cried

Izujirou:

They make playlists for each other

They go for runs on the beach a lot

They both have insomnia, and often spend time making blanket forts and talking, or FaceTiming and listening to music

Jirou walks into the common room once a week looking for new music. She started liking Izuku after he made a playlist for her for one of these occasions.

They’re both quite awkward when it comes to romance, but neither of them will shy away from facing the truth. So, Jirou made izuku a playlist filled with love songs that reminded her of him and sent it to him. Sadly, izuku is dense as hell.

So, then Jirou wrote a love song and told izuku that the song was for him. Sadly, izuku is dense as hell.

So, then Jirou write analysis about izuku’s quirk for him. Sadly, izuku is dense as hell

So, then, after thinking that Jirou had done so much for him, izuku made her a playlist filled with love songs. Jirou took this to mean that izuku had finally picked up on her feelings, and accepted them.

So, they started to go on dates. Not that izuku knew this, as he is dense as hell. All leading up to izuku finally confessing his feelings on one of their ‘dates,’ to which Jirou responded, “dude, we’re already dating? Aren’t we? I- I thought that was obvious??”

May this awkward couple be forever blessed

Tokoyama:

Goth/prep boyfriends, we love to see it

At least once a day, Aoyama will proclaim that Tokoyami “shines almost as bright as he does, in his fabulous emo way”

They sword fight, and come up with really dramatic scenarios and scenes that they’re in

They bond over being in the izucrew and their shared love of swords. Aoyama took fencing classes in middle school, and Tokoyami got into sword fighting after watching it in pirates of the Caribbean as a young child. He is self taught and watched countless videos on the art of sword fighting

Tokoyami asked Aoyama our by dramatically presenting him with a dagger and going “will you accompany me on a formal outing as my lover?”

Shinyama:

They flirt constantly

No really, it’s getting quite annoying. Someone please stop them.

They both plop down in random areas and proclaim their deaths, the difference between them, is that Aoyama will burst into shinsou’s room, and yell “love, I’ve been murdered. Mourn for me” while plopping down on shinsou’s lap. Shinsou can be found laying face down outside aoyama’s door, and when Aoyama goes to open the door, he just goes “I’ve been murdered.”

^^ one time, shinsou did a very fun Halloween prank for this, where he poured fake blood all over himself for Aoyama to find him an hour later, asleep.

Nap dates. Aoyama get glitter all over shinsou’s room

Iiyama:

Aoyama enjoys making Iida blush, obviously. But he takes joy in doing it specifically when class is about to start. Aizawa is tired of his shit

Here is how I think an iiyama conversation might go:

Aoyama: I ask for one thing in this relationship-

Iida: Aoyama, you know that’s a lie-

Aoyama: for my boyfriend to carry me around all day-

Iida: Aoyama, I cannot feasibly do this with class-

Aoyama: and I don’t think that’s too much to ask for 😤

Anyway, Aoyama got carried around all day that day, despite Iida’s blush and Aizawa’s eye twitch

Everyone in the izucrew is close, but Iida and Aoyama started to get close after Iida told the crew about Stain. Aoyama wanted Iida to know that he wasn’t alone, and that he wanted to help him. So he started packing extra cheese for lunch and giving it to Iida. Iida was very confused at first. But this was Aoyama trying to court him. This was only made apparent by momo and Jirou telling Iida that this was aoyama’s attempt at expressing romantic interest.

Aoyama flirts with everyone, that’s just who he is. But with Iida? Oh it was tenfold. The poor boy was red in the face constantly. Aoyama was a persistent little bugger too, following him around and calling him ‘mon amour’

Kirikamideku:

My dearest traffic light trio, I’m love them

They train together, and kiri and kami always appreciate izuku’s analysis snd ideas

Kiri falls even more in love with izuku and kaminari when they go off on rants. Izuku rants and kami can keep up with him so he asks questions about it. Kiri loves to watch his boyfriends go on rants, I don’t make the rules, but I do enforce them

They started to get closer after kami and kiri found bakugou causing a ptsd flashback (could be on purpose of an accident, up to the reader.) they stated with him and tried to talk him through it. After this, izuku started to tell them about having been a “late bloomer” and being bullied, etc. (I don’t know, man; I tend to over share after flashbacks and after panic attacks)

Izuku tutors them in several subjects, but kami tutors them in English. Kiri just falls in love with his smart boyfriends

Izuku is teaching kami JSL and kami is helping izuku with English and Italian (personal headcanon that Italian has been one of kami’s special interests) kiri loves to listen to them, and finds it relaxing and calming to hear them do this. When he has panic attacks, he’ll ask them to tutor each other in different languages

[amindofstone]

when the heart speaks

a/n: Watching Naruto I always had a huge interest in Hatake Kakashi's character and story. He is such an amazing creation. He´s simply a masterpiece! His story is such a sad story I couldn´t help bad feel bad. I felt horrible and the fact that he never showed any of that pain and sorrow broke my heart. This man needs to be loved! Anyways, since I never wrote anything with any character of Naruto, although I love this anime to damn much (like to the moon and back), I thought I should start doing that with Kakashi being my first try. If it ends up being good and if some people end up liking it, I might also write for Naruto next to One Piece. Other than that happy reading!

Genre: anime imagine? Naruto imagine?

Character(s): Hatake Kakashi x Nami (reader)

Spoilder(s):mainly Naruto Shippuden Spoilers like about: the fourth ninja war, Obito being Tobi, the fight against Tobi, Kakashi becoming the Hokage

Warnings: Maybe grammar or spelling mistakes. (I genuinely apologize. English is not my mother tongue and I´m really trying to improve. So please be so kind and have mercy)

Words: 2605

Info: Keep in mind that the words in italic are Kakashi´s train of thoughts. And just so you know the reader in here is just a supportive character while for Kakashi it´s the main character. (Does that even make sense?! Never mind. Hopefully you get what I mean. This was supposed to sound beautiful... but well... never mind)

!!! Please do not steal my idea or work. Credit me if this is shared or published in any other platform or any other way. This took me a lot of time. So please respect me as the writer and my work. Picture used is not mine. Credits to: @Nebula517 (Twitter) !!!

A month flew by and the people of Konoha were living their lives as if nothing happened. They go to work, open their stores, spend time with their beloved ones and enjoy the gift called life.

A month passed since the fourth ninja war ended. The fourth war that cost so many lives. Lives of so many people that were dear to him. Lives of parents, friends, siblings, students and teachers. People he used to have around him. People he used to greet on a daily basis. People that used to greet him on a daily basis.

A month passed and Konoha is still busy trying to rebuild it´s broken homes and streets. A month passed and more parents let their children play outside. A month passed and slowly more people are seen happy and with smile upon their lips. Well, at least they tried to.

A lot of buildings, streets and homes were destroyed. People looked for shelter in the houses of their neighbors or tents the hokage provided. Some families were in a miserable state but still managed to smile and have a good time. No matter where one looked there were ninjas helping out here and there. Going from one mission to another to help rebuilding the village to its old beauty. The civilians suffered a lot but the shinobi were the ones that went through hell and back. One of those ninjas was the famous and well known jonin Hatake Kakashi.

He saw so many of his friends in pain. He saw people die and people scream in agony. He saw people stand back up after they saw their beloved ones die just to keep up with the fight in the name of peace. Peace, a word that described a world and a living of a existence that could only exist in a fantasy novel or a dream. It seems like Madara wasn´t wrong when he said that - The longer you live, the more you realize that reality is just made of pain, suffering and emptiness. -

“Thank you so much for helping us out. We will soon be able to stay in our own home again.”, said a little boy to the quiet man. Kakashi squatted down so he could look the little guy into his eyes. Something his father did when he was a child himself. “There is no need to thank me. I´m glad I could help. Now go and help your mother carrying the groceries. I´m sure she needs your help.”, the little guy nodded and bowed as a farewell and made his way towards his mother who was on her way to go shopping. Kakashi had an eye on the child until he was next to his mother before he stood up again to get back on his way to his new destination. His destination a place he visited already three times just today. With his newly appearance it would be the fourth time but he didn´t mind at all because that was his job after all. This is what he got trained for and lived for. Right?

No matter where one looked of went in the village. There were ninjas everywhere. Going to on mission to another or fulfilling a mission at good as they could. Missions that were all about helping the civilians or helping rebuilding the villiage to its old beauty and peace.

With hands in his pockets he made his way back to the office of Lady Tsunade not caring at all if he came late. A trait he developed years ago. But he didn´t mind at all because he didn´t care what people thought of him and his bad habit. He didn´t care a bit. He didn´t and never will. He didn´t, right?

After a pleasant walk the young man knocked at the door of the hokages office right after a tired sigh left him. A soft come in could be heard before he stepped inside. “You wanted to talk?”, said the jonin and closed the door behind him. The blond woman nodded and leaned back in her chair. She was nervous and Kakashi could see that. She bit on her lower lip and sighed before she cleared her throat. “Kakashi. I know that the past circumstances left you in a state of confusion, sadness and pain. And I surely am sorry for everything that happened to you but I hope that you know that the life of a shinobi is exactly that. Saying this is actually absurd because it’s something you already know and can understand the best out of all the others. I am aware of you many losses and the pain you went through in the cause of your life for the sake of our village. You did a lot for Konoha but also the world. Me and every other person alive appreciate that and thank you for everything you have every done and will be doing in the future. You are indeed and great shinobi.”, visibly confused over the words of the woman in front of him his head slightly tilted. “Tsunade what are you implying on? I´m sure you didn´t call me over just to praise me so I´m honestly kind of confused.”, the Hokage smiled at him and nodded. “You´re right. I didn´t called you over just for the praise when I already know that you´re not the type of a person that likes being praised openly over his work and duties. To put it short I´d like you to know that I told the elders about my decision of retirement as the hokage. But next to that I also suggested you to be the next hokage.”

Silence.

The man was surprised. How could someone like him become the hokge? “Who else is suggested beside me?”, wondered Kakashi although he knew who that might be. But he needed to hear it from her. “Naruto.”, hearing his name put a smile on his lips “I´m glad that he was suggested.”, but the mere thought of Naruto as the hokage sadden him for some reason. “I´m really glad that he was suggested but don´t you think that he is too young for that? I mean I´m not saying that he isn´t capable of taking the position, because he indeed is and always proved that. It´s just that he´s just 17 and should be allowed to live. He´s just a child on who´s fate was put a huge amount of burden.”, he added to emphasize his thoughts about her decision. “And this is why I want you to be hokage. You are the only one who is strong and intelligent enough to take this position and lead the villiag.”, a short chuckle could be heard from the man before he put both of his hands back into his pockets. “Intelligence? Really? Talking about intelligence I think Nara Shikamaru would be a better choice. Don´t you think?”, “And this is why I ordered him to be your chief aide and he agreed. So what do you think? If they choose you would you accept the position?”, with a hesitate nod he agreed and caused Tsunade to smile in relief. “Thank you. I´m sure you will do a great job.”

With slow steps he walked out of the office and the building when his attention was drawn to the now pinkish sky above him. The color of the sky that told him that another day of his life was slowly coming to an end made his heart ache. The thought of him being able to life when others who deserved it more couldn´t, always managed to get him fall back into the sadness that lay in his heart. Where do I go know? Right, I need to go to the grocery store. On his way to buy what he wrote down this morning he walked past a flower shop with his gaze falling on white roses. His eyes were fixed on the bouquet of flowers until the owner approached him and asked if she could help. He was quite and actually didn´t knew why he starred at them but he ended up buying them. With an empty head but a heavy heart he let his body lead him, not realizing that after a walk of 20 minutes he ended up standing in front of the grave of his friend. Obito. He didn´t knew what to do. He didn´t knew what neither to do nor to say, so he simply stood there waiting for his mind to make something up. But absolutely nothing happened until his heart spoke up. “I´ll be hokage Obito. This is what you wanted to be right? I remember hearing you say this over and over again every day. But never did Sensei Minato or Rin get sick of it. Honestly I also had cero problems hearing that. I can´t remember what I thought in those moments but one thing´s for sure. Sensei liked it and it always managed to make him smile.”

Kakashi sat down while carefully placing some of the flowers on his grave. “I used to come and see you not knowing that you were alive. I used to come and talk to you sometimes without knowing that you were alive and I could have been able to see and talk to you in person. But even if I knew that you were alive I don´t think I would have been able to face you. I messed up in so many aspects. I can´t help but see me as the reason on why it came to a war.”, while sitting in front of Obitos grave the jonins head hang low. He might be sitting just in front of a grave but somehow he does not have the courage to look up. He was ashamed. “I´m sorry for breaking the promise. I´m sorry for being a horrible friend to you Obito. I messed up miserably. Those minutes in front of you, with you were everything but pleasant since I had to fight what I called a friend all my life. But still I am happy that I could see you. I wish it would have been on different circumstances but life and fate always hated me so I´m not expecting anything else than pain.”, with every word leaving his lips slowly and bit by bit tears filled his eyes he did not allow to fall. “I´m sorry I couldn’t be the friend you or Rin deserved but I promise that I will be exactly that friend you wanted to the whole village. I will be leading the villiage with the love and attitude you had when we were one.”, with tears that threatened to fall he stood up again and cleared his throat. “Thank you for the live lesson Uchia Obito. I´ll never forget it.”

With the remaining white roses he made his way to Rins grave and placed it neatly on top of it. “Thank you for always trying to keep us together. Please make sure to take care of Obito. He deserves to be happy and loved. And… Rin… I´m sorry… I´m sorry I couldn’t protect you. I´m sorry.”, with heavy steps and an aching heart he walked down to another grave. A grave he once used to avoid but by now found peace in. “Seems like my legs lead me to you and the others like so many other days, father. I wonder when the time will come in which I won´t be approaching any of you with sorrow and sadness. Althought I wish this day to come soon I know that it will never happen.”

Kakashis vision was blurry. He wanted to cry but didn´t shed any tears. He stopped himself from doing so and tried his best to hold them back. With his last prayers he left the graveyard behind and took care of his groceries. He had no energy to cook but he also was not in the mood to go eat out and get confronted with any person. He wanted to be alone. He wanted to be left alone because he wanted to and not because he was used to the silence in his life. Again bit by bit sorrow took over his mind and heart. Again he was drowning in pain and memories. Again he was left alone with his never ending pain. A wave of darkness overcame him making him wonder how he ended up like that again. He didn´t greeted the employee at the store or waved back when someone called or greeted him. With a low hanging head he walked back home, while a comforting warm rain fell upon Konoha.

He was standing in front of his apartment he recently moved in. With one hand holding the bag with the groceries he took out his keys with the other one. A scattered mind and a broken soul accompanied him when he entered his apartment. “Kakashi? Are you alright? I was worried? Oh no you’re wet to the bone! Give me the bags and go change. You´ll get sick otherwise and we can´t have that.”

What was going on? He was confused and his mind went blank. A woman with long black hair and chocolate brown eyes came approaching him when reality hit him. “Kashi is everything fine? Did something happen?”, the woman placed the bags on the kitchen counter and looked at him out of worried eyes. She took of her black glasses and took the confused man’s hand to lead him to the bedroom. She let go of his hand again and went to close the window that let in the cold wind. She fixed the curtains and went back to face the silver haired man who still wasn´t moving an inch. She smiled upon his behavior and slowly took off his headband, his vest and his gloves. “It´s okay if you don´t wanna talk about please don´t forget that I am here when you need me. I won´t judge, just please talk to me whenever you fell like it. I love you after all.”

I love you, she said? I love you. How could I let the darkness take the lead again? How could I? “May I take of your mask?”, Kakashi nodded and still did not say a thing or moved. “Now please do the both of us the favor and take a shower. I´ll get you your clothes and make us some dinner. Alright?”

She smiled up at him and let go of him to do what she said when two strong arms held her back. “Huh?”, he pulled her against his chest only to take her face in hands and place a loving but rough kiss on her lips. A soft whine could be heard and a few tears rolled down his cheeks. Tears he held back and tried to not let them show any of his feelings. But for how long was he supposed to do that? Nami broke the kiss. She was worried since her lover never behaved like that. “No, please. Don´t go, stay.”, his eyes were closed and his hands were shaking when he placed his lips upon hers again. She let him be and said nothing. Nami closed her eyes and placed her hands on his chest and allowed him to do what he pleased, not caring that his wet clothes might wet hers too. She let him do what he wanted as long as he was happy. As long as she could help him get rid of the sorrow and pain in him. As long as she had him by her side.

[flying-guinea-pig]

Not What He Seems (ch.1)

(Prefer to read this on AO3?)

(It’s happening folks. The big reveal, four years in the making.)

NotWhat He Seems: Chapter 1

Thomas' heart always beat a little faster when he summoned something, even after several years in this job. It was the thrill of calling a powerful being into this reality with only your wits and some chalk lines as protection.

Beëlzebob was an intermediate-level demon. He took the appearance of every cliché devil ever - hairy black goat legs, a ridiculously buff and gleaming red upper body, large curled horns. The works.

He was also not cooperating at all.

"You are... di̵s̢tra͢c̢te͜d," the demon whispered, his voice echoing back strangely from the corners of the summoning lab. The shadows seemed to thicken.

Thomas kept his face impassive. These were just some special effects, after all. His binding circle was perfect, he didn't need to worry.

"I have outlined our offer in this document. These are the terms you have previously discussed at length with my colleague," he said, reaching out slightly to hand Beëlzebob the carefully rolled up contract. "All should be in order."

The demon unrolled it and took his sweet time reading it through. He would make a good addition to the safe summons list, despite being a bit higher level than their usual choices. This old-fashioned approach, with the written contract and all - it would teach the students to be patient and give them time to focus on the details before shaking on anything.

"Yes," the demon said, dragging a black claw over the parchment. "These terms are acceptable. However, there is one issue."

"Is there?"

A horrible, fanged grin. "The contract must be written in your o̦̰͚w̮̮n̬͇̹̕ blood, mortal."

Maybe it was his experience with grandstanding demons, or Tyrone had been rubbing off on him, but Thomas was not impressed. "That wasn't in the agreement."

"You will rewrite it. Ḩè̲̙͙̩̤r̦e̹̦ ͏͕̥a̝̱̺͟n̘͔d ̛̦̱̲̖n̩͈̪o̰̻͓͓͢w̺͍͎̦.̪̣͇̩́"

"No, I don't think so," Thomas said, mildly. Seriously? All that work was just wasted? Typical. He was not going to use his own blood to write it, sheesh. With all those clauses and addendums the thing was way too long. Not to mention willingly given human blood had power - power that wasn't a part of this offer.

The shadows twisted - the candles flared. "You will, little mortal, or I will step over this boundary and write it myself, straight from your veins."

"This attitude is not convincing me you're a good fit for our list."

"You have summoned me and I will not leave without my deal!" Red-tinged smoke filled the circle, edging over the chalk lines and spreading into the room. It stank of sulphur and decay.

Thomas coughed. Dramatics aside, maybe it was time to get rid of Beëlzebob. Too bad, Hicks would be disappointed to cross off another name on the safe summons list… It had shrunk a lot in the past years. If this kept up their students would soon only get to summon the Organ Duck. If they couldn’t offer a proper practical education they might eventually run out of interested students as well, which was bad news for the survival of the demonology department.

"Whoa, did someone drop a rotten egg in here?"

Tyrone usually didn't barge in during summonings, especially when they were trying to get more demons for the safe summons list, but this time Thomas didn't mind. The open door let in some fresh air and that was very welcome at the moment.

Tyrone entered the room, waving away some of the smoke. "Hey, Hicks mentioned you wanted to have a talk?"

"What? Oh, yeah," Thomas said, distracted. The smoke was dissipating with record speed and Beëlzebob was visible again, staring at Tyrone in abject terror. "I'm a bit busy right now though."

"Do you need any help?" Tyrone offered. His smile was perfectly friendly.

Thomas glanced at Beëlzebob. "As a matter of fact, he was just leaving."

"Yes! Yes indeed," the demon hurried to say. "Just leaving. Right now. I’m going. Big misunderstanding, you know how it is, have to be somewhere else, goodbye now!"

“Thanks buddy," Tyrone said. "Very accommodating of you, leaving without a deal like that. I will remember this. Here, have a snack."

With a snap of his fingers a familiar deep-fried ball appeared, partly wrapped in a festive paper towel.

Beëlzebob caught it with a flinch and popped away without another sound.

“So, what exactly did you want to talk about?”

“Just a second, let me clean up first.” He frowned at Tyrone. “Speaking of cleaning up, what happened to your shirt?”

“What?” Tyrone glanced down at the brown stains on his usually so crisp white shirt, and made a face. “Aw man, seriously?”

“Do I want to know?”

“I bumped into Banerjee on my way here. He was carrying samples. And he didn’t even apologize, can you believe it?”

Banerjee was the Cryptozoology department’s newest hire, working on his doctorate involving – honestly, Thomas had no idea, he just knew it involved a lot of mud. He wasn’t aware of Tyrone’s true identity. The university staff tried to keep that one under wraps. Parents might object to their children coming to a university where Alcor the Dreambender was frequently hanging around.

“He owes me a new shirt.”

Thomas rolled his eyes. “You can literally make it brand new with a thought.”

“He doesn’t know that. It’s about the principle of the thing.”

Shaking his head, Thomas set to work. To his students it often came as a surprise that practical demonology involved a lot of cleaning up. The preparations were extensive, of course, but afterwards someone had to put away the candles and mop up the chalk, blood, and other assorted fluids the demons occasionally left behind. Beëlzebob in particular had left footprints of some kind of sulphurous ooze that he probably shouldn’t handle without gloves…

Safely removing summoning circles was an art, really. It’s not like you could just start scrubbing away with these things – the outer part was usually the binding circle, and you never knew if the demon was still hanging around, invisible, waiting for you to make a mistake. Not that he expected something to happen while Alcor the Dreambender was literally waiting at the door, but proper caution was a good habit to have.

“You know, I could clean this up for you with a snap of my fingers,” Tyrone mused, lounging against the wall while he waited. His shirt held no trace of the brown stains.

“Are you offering?”

“For free?”

Thomas snickered at the almost scandalous look on Tyrone’s face. Put down his cleaning supplies. He had planned to do this differently, but you know what? Now might be as good a time as ever. And it would be fun, wouldn’t it, to put Tyrone off-balance for a moment? “How about a deal then?”

Tyrone perked up.

“You get this room back to its cleaned-up, usable state,” said Thomas, and felt the smile break through on his face. “In return, you get to be my best man.”

To his credit, it didn’t take Tyrone long to realise. “Thomas! You finally popped the question then?”

“Yep. I said I was going to do it soon, this can’t be a surprise –“

“And she said yes?”

“We did talk about it beforehand, you know –“

“Congrats!”

“Thanks,” Thomas grinned. “So, what do you say? Fair warning though, being my best man comes with certain responsibilities. Making sure I’m on time at the wedding and such.”

Organising the stag night as well, technically. Though Thomas suspected Brad already had some thoughts in that direction.

“I’ve been someone’s best man before, I know how it goes,” Tyrone said. “You’ve got yourself a deal, Thomas.”

The room around them shifted, the magical arrays fading away and taking the trailing odour of brimstone with them.

Tyrone’s expression shifted too, as he let go of Thomas’ hand.

“What’s wrong?” Thomas asked.

“Nothing.”

“You seem upset?”

“I am happy for you,” Tyrone said. “It’s just… you’re getting old.”

“Wow, thanks.”

“No, I mean – look at you! Getting married. Maybe kids and a house, soon.”

“I’m not buying a house on a teacher’s salary,” Thomas said. “The rest… who knows? We’ll see how it goes. Is that what’s upsetting you? That I’m growing up?”

Tyrone shrugged awkwardly. He seemed smaller somehow. “You’re going to be very busy with all that – that life stuff. It’s happening already. Everyone is so busy. Your dates with Elisha, Eddy’s got his new job, Brad’s mucking around in his dad’s company - when was the last time we all hung out, just for fun? Not because it was someone’s birthday or anything? It’s been ages since we had a game night.”

That… had been a while, true. “I guess that’s what happens when you get older. There are more demands on your time, you get to juggle more responsibilities.”

“I’m not getting older.”

“Right.” Thomas took a deep breath.  “Listen, so… we’re busy more often. And it’s not like in college, where we all could just hang out all the time. But you’re basically part of the family, Tyrone. Alcor. You’ll always have a place here. And I’m sure the rest of the gang would say the same.”

“Promise?”

“Promise,” Thomas said. And smiled, to lighten the mood. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

“You’d just miss all the amazing deals I make with you.”

“Of course” Thomas said, glad Tyrone was now teasing instead of moping. “I’m clearly only using you for your clout as Alcor. You’ve made my life so much easier.”

Tyrone mimed a gasp. “Sarcasm, Thomas? Ouch.”

“Not entirely sarcasm,” Thomas admitted. “You do make my life easier, sometimes. When you feel like it. For instance, vanishing that sulphurous stuff Beëlzebob left behind, I was not looking forward to handling that. The smell lingered.”

Tyrone suddenly looked way too innocent. “Oh, I didn’t exactly vanish it.”

Oh Stars. “What did you do?”

“Might have put it somewhere. Like, oh, I dunno… Banerjee’s car.”

Thomas facepalmed. Serves him right for making a vague deal like that. “Is it at least safe?”

“Define ‘safe’.”

“Tyrone!”

“Don’t worry, Thomas, I promised not to deliberately harm the university’s students and faculty, remember? He’ll be fine.”

“All this for an accidental stain on your shirt, really?”

Tyrone folded his arms in front of him. “He didn’t apologize.”

Thomas shook his head, exasperated.

Demons. They really knew how to hold grudges.

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

The Mindscape was a vast, endless realm where the strong hunted the weak and territories were defined, invaded, and redefined. This was the place where demons lived, and they didn’t like each other any better than they liked humans. The collective noun for a group of demons, as they say, is ‘a carnage’. Teaming up was rare, and more often than not ended in the stronger one destroying the other as soon as their goal was met. That was just the natural order of things.

Even so, sometimes even they needed a neutral place to go. Somewhere deals could be made without worrying about being devoured. This place was the Midway Bar, run by a demon known only as the Bartender, and for the past six years it had attracted a group of regulars.

They took over the table in the corner. Sometimes the group lost a member, occasionally it gained one. They weren’t here to make deals. They were here to drown their misery and sneak away before a stronger demon took advantage of their intoxication to ambush them outside these walls.

Beëlzebob entered the Midway Bar. He went straight to the Bartender, who after a short conversation pointed in the direction of the gloomy table in the corner.

“Get lost,” Flaga the Eagle-winged said, at his approach.

The demon next to her, who mostly looked like a giant fungus with teeth, curled a green tendril around their glass. “Yeah. This is a private party.”

Beëlzebob paused. He was stronger than each of them, he knew. But this was no place for threats. “Apologies for the interruption. May I sit?”

That wasn’t how demons talked to each other, especially not to a bunch of low-levels like them. They shared a suspicious glance. The one across from Flaga, some kind of feathered crocodile hybrid, raised his empty glass meaningfully.

Of course. “Listening can parch the throat so,” Beëlzebob said. “Let me get those refilled for you, and then we̙̮'̥͉̘ll̟̮ ț̳̮a̪̩̗̥l̯̹̹k̰.”

[bicanthropus]

ianto jones

╔═.✾. ═  LOG *** :  ianto jones  |  cis man, he/him |  32.

Just spotted IANTO around town.  Our records show that they remember [ everything ] from their source : torchwood (doctor who).   They were first spotted in october 2016 and our best guess is that their last memory is closing the rift at the house of the dead.  Archivists watching them state that they still have the freshly ground beans, impeccable suits, secret smiles, & sarcastic jabs vibe about them.

━  from Armes E. Sallow’s  personal archives. ═.✾. ═╝ ↳・゜gareth david lloyd .

━━━ transcribed on : 02 january 2017.  transcription annotated by an unnamed archivist.

❃゜・。. ・°゜

ARMES: i’m glad you finally came in for this interview.

Well I didn’t really feel like I had much of a choice, so I’m here.

ARMES: can you tell me your name and where you are from?

Ianto Jones, from Cardiff.  So, sort of a local boy compared to a lot of the others here in town.

ARMES: local indeed, though i’m sure you’ll find north wales quite different than south wales.  now, what is the last thing you remember from your home?

I remember heading to the Thames House with Jack to help with a situation that was happening there.

admin note: he will later remember everything of house of the dead

ARMES: we have a history of memory loss in town.  do you feel as though you have any blanks in your memories?

I wish I did, but I do not.  I shouldn’t talk like that.  I’m sure the memory loss is horrible.

ARMES: how long have you been in town?

Since October.

ARMES: and are you feeling settled?  have you found a job?

I’ve got a job at the diner, re-doing their entire coffee system.  It’s nice though.  Coffee has always settled me.

ARMES: what, do you think, was the strangest thing you saw before arriving in this town?

Trust me, you wouldn’t believe me.

ARMES: do you believe in the supernatural or mythical?

Not really.  I believe that there are things that people make into myths and legends, but they are explainable by means that are not magic.

ARMES: what kind of traits would your friends or family give you?

Quiet, intelligent, methodical.  A quick learner and a brilliant teacher to those willing to learn.

ARMES: is there anything else you would like to say?

Yes.  Don’t ask me back here again like that.  I don’t like being bossed around.

❃゜・。. ・°゜

notes completed by tal brennan

The interview from one Ianto Jones was painfully uncompleted, so I guess it’s my job to finish it up now that I’m being tossed these files.  I think that he wasn’t seen as a potential danger, so research on him was pushed to the backburner.  But he’s quite the interesting character.

Ianto Jones is from Torchwood, which is a spin off of the reboot of Doctor Who.  He’s the second canonically, openly queer character in the Doctor Who universe after Jack Harkness, who just happens to be his love interest.  Ianto worked for the alien-monitoring organization Torchwood, specifically the branch in Cardiff though he started in the branch in London.  A history of punk-mentality hidden under tailored suits, he never quite tells you his whole story in one look, or even ten.  He’s perfectly crafted different layers of himself to show to different people.

Despite his research being put on the backburner, he is the type that would investigate.  He values human life, and knowing the on goings of the world around him.  However the shock of it not being aliens may delay this.

danger level: 4/10 likeliness to investigate: 6/10

[ashenburst]

Enough of Our Disease

Cioccolata x Reader, uh... no real genre, 9845 words. Consider this a prolonged, realistic interaction with the psycho.

tw: manipulation, degradation, abuse, slight violence, blackmail, slight gore

However, just so you know, this isn’t as grim as some Cioccolata stories out there.

A new intern who had just been transferred to the clinic. Nothing more but a stranger. That was (Y/N).

And she was also a student. A brave little student who got a scholarship in Italy, and had the opportunity to work side by side with Rome's greatest doctors. Something she could've only dreamed of, and yet... it became reality.

The new surroundings were quickly conquered by her. She studied hard and long, and she had all that experience behind her to guide her to her bright future. And it wasn't just the mind that she had trained, but the charm as well. She gained favors of both other interns and doctors. It wasn't too hard – the method she used was old, but a trusted one.

She would always assume the best, and from that point onwards, the stranger would slowly diminish their unknown. So did this one. His name was Cioccolata – a sweet one, as (Y/N) humored. He was a surgeon, an excellent one, as she also noted on multiple occasions. A compliment or two would do no harm. Even in professional surroundings such as this one, where doctors were expected to operate almost mechanically, empathy was needed. Luckily, the atmosphere in this clinic was relaxed – and everyone inside was keen on keeping it that way. At least, between the workers.

The interns were welcomed warmly. The doctors, although they certainly had much to do, managed not only to pay attention to the students. Rather, they succeeded in meeting them better; they genuinely cared and dedicated themselves to meeting them better. Something (Y/N) could hardly believe...

The stress and the worry! A doctor had no option but to lose their connections with their patients, for not every life could be saved. And not every disease could be cured, and not every symptom could be eliminated. What could a doctor do, but their best? Even when a surgery would fail, and the patient would live on sick, and even when a surgery would result in death –

"Sir? Are you alright?"

Cioccolata lifted his head, evidently snapped out of deep thought. "I am...? Why are you asking?"

"I just... had to check," (Y/N) told, "it must be horrible, losing a patient like that." She sighed. She didn't know much of him at the time, but his expertise seemed unparalleled. She had seen it with her own eyes, on multiple occasions. This must've been a low blow to his career... and psyche, she believed.

The green haired male forced a chuckle. "I can handle it. Don't worry."

His antics were odd. Unusually calm, somewhat regal. Fitting to a doctor, one would believe, but certainly not typical in reality. This solemn approach of his remained intact in every situation, except, perhaps...

"You've got an interesting taste, dottore," Cioccolata pointed out one day. He had the habit of calling her dottore, for she acted like one more so than his colleagues. During break, he caught (Y/N) reading a particularly grim book. She raised an eyebrow at him, already grinning.

"You're a fan of Dostoyevsky's?" She would love to talk with one.

"I don't think I am, but I did enjoy some of his works. Especially the one you're reading right now," he stated, allowing himself a small smile.

"The Notes From The Underground surely has its appeal. I find it oddly... releasing, despite the book's theme," she began. She simply had to discuss it.

"You emphasize with the man?" The older surgeon inquired, still bearing that smug expression of his.

She shrugged. "I'd say I do. Don't we all?"

"Not all of us are equipped with the proper mindset."

"Or heart."

"Mind rules over the heart. You, an aspiring doctor, should know that of all people," he remarked, hitting a string he shouldn't have. Per se, mocking one's own life work would be a bad thing, let alone tampering with a topic so familiar to the other party. And it just so happened that it was that period of the month. The intern knew what to say.

"I don't think we're on the same page," (Y/N) countered, noticing the opportunity. "We've both started using metaphors and they don't mean the same to us, so it's pointless to lead this discussion any further."

His expression darkened. He was far from pretty – it would be easy to describe him as a repulsive man, even.

He lifted his face, gazing down to her. "Why impress me, dottore? I might tell on you and everyone will find out you're arrogant."

And she regretted ever trying to poke at his ego, just for a bit. Which is why her response was tamer. "You wouldn't do that," she said, stifling a laugh. Maybe he'd realize she didn't really intend to insult him.

"Indeed, but I could." With that, he abandoned her, in a state she'd dub as anxiety. She was never keen on making enemies, not with people like him – people who were intelligent.

Not only intelligent, but dangerous. Authority was in his grasp. He was one of the many people (Y/N) simply had to by liked by. Strangely, he turned out to be amused by her outbursts of boasting – she toned them down nevertheless.

She felt before she knew. A discomfort, creaking softly whenever she'd step on the wrong ledge. And oh, how sensitive she was to the sound. It would alarm her entire being, stiffen her whenever he was nearby. Her intuition would beg her to stay away, and she wanted to stay away – safely – for she wished no stress, no additional bothers in her life.

It was wondrous, whenever she'd look back at it. The way it started off, and the way it developed. Admiration, distance, provocation – and lastly, fear, laced with respect. In the spur of the moment, she found herself wanting to be liked by him. Just like her student self, meeting a new teacher. She wanted to leave a good impression, for it could only benefit her.

Did it benefit her, now? What did she get in return?

"This is Secco, my trusted assistant," Cioccolata introduced her to the young man. His wide, violet eyes stood out to (Y/N) – she could see how nervous his gaze was. And that was all she saw, for the remainder of his face was covered with a cap and a surgical mask.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Secco," she warmly spoke.

"Mm, same," he responded in his so, so unpleasant tone. (Y/N) couldn't believe it was him talking at first. It was as if – as if gravel was being pressed against her skin. It caused her much discomfort, but... she gave him an awkward smile. Then, continued with whatever job was at hand –

She couldn't remember the rest. The memory of the event faded along with that horrible stench of Secco's.

But Cioccolata's voice... steady as the torrents of his elaborating. She loved it. He'd point at the graphs, explain a correlation or two, then pose a hypothesis. (Y/N) was just one of the many interns, and she didn't want to believe she stood out – but by all means, she made it. In the hall, whenever a respected doctor would offer his guidance to the interns, she was one of the few who knew and understood.

It didn't come without a price. She'd been burdening herself with random facts and sublime methods for ages now. Not only did she stay longer at the clinic, just to linger around and do additional work... and talk with people there, too. Every day, a documentary would be watched or a book would be read. Her brain, buried even deeper into her profession. It gave her headaches. Plenty of them, in fact. But she knew she'd been doing the right thing.

This was the prime of her lifetime. All the sweat and tears she'd wasted so far were worth it. She loved her life, the life she earned. And she was loved because of it. Her parents would message her every now and then. She knew she didn't fail them.

And every morning, she'd wake up, look into the mirror and – smile, no matter how bad she looked. With all the circumstances the present was overlapped with, how couldn't she? Everything was good. Her job, her studies, her family and her friends – who she rarely contacted, for all of them were in a similar situation. She was overjoyed, for she knew they would succeed. Her heart was full... every aspect of her life was complete. She couldn't ask for more.

And so the daily routine continued. A bliss, simply put.

In retrospective, (Y/N) truly had no complaints. Objectively speaking, she had no right to ever dare complain. Which is why she'd beat herself to remain quiet whenever the slightest inconvenience would occur. Be it a bellyache, a quarrel, or additional work. Yet...

She loathed when people told her things she already knew. She loathed when people insisted on repeating the same formula over and over again, as if she were dumb – or as if she were ignorant enough not to know it already. She hated when people underestimated her and didn't let her prove otherwise.

But Cioccolata allowed her to.

"Your take on the symptoms, dottore," he tapped the chart. (Y/N) couldn't believe what she was looking at. The symptoms displayed were horrible – nausea, paralysis, loss of hearing – just what...

She blabbered the first ideas that came to her. "Brain tumor? No. Late stage of syphilis?"

"Indeed." She felt her heart fill with pride at Cioccolata's approval. "The universe is certainly unfair towards this patient, hm? He's a homeless man, the ambulance brought him in after some guy spotted him lying on the streets. I'm surprised someone even bothered..."

"Truly... horrible. No comment," (Y/N) muttered, not knowing what else to say. The day was long and she was tired beyond measure –

"Do you no longer care about your patients, dottore?" His question threw her off guard. Her eyebrows furrowed, and she shook her head lightly, all while staring at him.

"I do care about them? Of course I do?" Why was he asking those intrusive questions again? Outrageous.

"Oh. It's kicking in sooner than the usual," he nonchalantly stated.

(Y/N) kept staring at him. "What are you talking about?"

"The indifference. Or numbness. Whatever you want to call it. You simply stop caring... it's normal. In fact, it's an imperative, if you want to stay sane."

How could he say something so provocative? She understood where he was coming from, but talking about it openly was something else. It meant multiple things, and those things were... invasive. She remained silent, and luckily, Cioccolata let her.

This was why she felt uncomfortable at times. This man knew of no boundaries. But... that didn't have to be a bad thing. He was brave enough to talk about the things most people would consider morbid. Yet intelligent. Unique, rare – name it however you want, but (Y/N) enjoyed. Not to mention he was her superior. And he didn't treat her like she was beneath him. Almost as if she was his equal.

She was respected like never before. Not only by him, but by his colleagues as well. It would be an understatement to say she adored it.

One particular, fateful day, she forgot her wallet at the clinic. She hadn't realized it until night fell – she wasn't the most perceptive person, and she disliked this trait of hers. She'd have to get ready and go back to the clinic, which was a bother... and it simply went against her plans. Although she had none.

She was lucky. The lights were still on, and there were people inside, so she didn't attract much attention.

She tried to remember where she had been that day. What was her routine like? They'd been checking some patients, yes, in a more distant wing. She had to do some walking to reach it, and once there... she had to check all the rooms.

Strangely, there was nobody around. This meant she didn't have to justify herself to anyone, at least. But it certainly didn't make her feel too comfortable either. Being alone in those hallways, opening empty rooms – all of that made her feel as if she was doing something wrong.

Maybe she truly was doing something wrong. She barged into a room where lights were turned on.

"My apologies, I wasn't –"

Of course she wasn't aware. She wanted to vanish, erase her memory of the sight – she didn't want to be involved, she didn't mean it to happen, yet –

There it was, the massive crimson protruding through the clinical white, clawing at her sight. Organs, splattered around, begging to be forgotten and shoved into oblivion. Their owner, a man reduced to a hole, laying sprawled on the bed... long dead, long mutilated. And the two of them, her colleagues. The culprits and the criminals, all in one – a pair of monsters.

(Y/N)'s vision distorted. She saw it all clearly, and once the realization hit her, she froze, just for a second. She couldn't believe it. But all of her senses spoke otherwise, and the very moment those two monsters looked at her, their eyes – screaming shrill danger... they would get her.

So she slammed the door and began running. She didn't feel anything at all. Her feet were propelled forwards just like that.

But she was too slow. Far too slow. A shadow appeared in front of her – no, a man – leapt from inside the floor and rammed straight into her. By instinct, she tried to push him away from her – and she was successful. He fell... into the wall?

That was when she processed what she had seen. The man leapt from the floor. And that man was Secco.

Her one moment of hesitation cost her much; suddenly, something hit her legs, and she fell with a shriek and a loud thud. She would've continued screaming if a hand hadn't been pressed against her mouth. An oppressive weight shackled her to being immobile – she didn't even know what was happening. She just kept struggling, desperately, against it all.

Then, a firm voice that echoed throughout the hallway. "Dottore! There's no need to run. We're equipped to deal with these arbitrary intrusions, so it's no point."

These words imbued her with even more resistance. She swung her head, and managed to somehow set her mouth free for a moment. "Let me go – " (Y/N) tried to scream, instinctively, but she was muffled by Secco's hand. She bit on it, hard, making him whimper like a hurt dog. In her mouth... she felt his blood. It riled her up, and she tried to kick back and somehow escape Secco's grip – but she failed. How could a skinny, anorexic being like him keep her in check? This enraged her even further, and she tried to elbow him. In vain. As if he couldn't feel pain.

Then a specific object was brought to her attention.

A scalpel, right in front of her, in Cioccolata's gloved hand. She bit her lip till it ached. She knew she was done for, and this defeat... it was unimaginable, but she was going through it. Her own body turned lax as the realization washed over her. Lastly, she teared up, for she was utterly, completely, powerless.

"Shh, I'm not willing to send you to the other side just yet. Be good now so that you could talk back later," the surgeon spoke calmly, as if to ease the tense air.

She remained put. Her frame, a cage to her wild heart. Yet she was as still as a corpse.

"Calm yet? Wonderful. You are now allowed to speak," he said after observing her for a while. He slowly retracted the scalpel, as if to widen the distance between (Y/N) and her death. She knew he was in complete control, that her life was on the line, yet...

She didn't believe this was happening. To add to that, her emotions were late. She didn't feel anything a person should be feeling at the moment – or so she believed. She perceived her state to be too calm, to the point she got afraid of it.

"What was that," she asked. A stupid question, she immediately thought. But was there anything else she didn't know?

"You're getting curious all of a sudden," he spoke with inhuman vigor. "Be careful. You know what they say, curiosity killed the cat."

"But satisfaction brought it back," she stated, bold, for she had nothing to lose. Her heart skipped a beat – she was still far too calm about it all. Too focused, to sharply keen on living through her death.

"But intern, you'll be far from satisfied." His mask scrunched up, signifying the change of his expression. It was seen in his eyes, that glint and the wrinkles – he was smiling. (Y/N) redirected her gaze, wondering, just how much did he find it... empowering? Moreover, was his ego big enough to let her live? She prayed, oh, she prayed it was. But her prayer... dripped of hatred. The bold type of fear.

She gazed back at him, so insolent and so stupidly brave. Her expression must've portrayed cold fury, but her tone...

Her family. She needed to be there for them. How would her mother handle her death?

"I'll do anything," she pleaded, her voice meek.

"I don't need you to do anything at all," he answered, deafening all that was left of her hope. And in that moment, she thought –

She loved her life. She didn't regret anything. If this was her end... she had fared well.

Which is why she made peace with the guillotine of his scalpel. She even lifted her head to ease the blade's entrance. All while staring at her soon to be murderer with defiance unknown to her. Secco, behind her, let out a wheeze.

"It's a shame you aren't recording this, Secco," Cioccolata cooed, visibly satisfied. He didn't break eye contact with the intern beneath him. "It's a rare sight. Dottore, you might regret rushing into death like that. It isn't your time, not yet." He snapped his fingers, and with his other hand, he spun the scalpel in a teasing manner. (Y/N)'s gaze lingered on it just for a bit; she found it harder and harder to keep this façade going. It was evidently buying her time, so...

"So, the decision is on you," she said, although she had so much more to share – but her voice was weak, growing thinner with every word. If one part of her mask would fall apart, she knew, she would panic. Oh, the refined delicacy!

Every moment was wagered, as if it were a play of sorts. And she had to impress Cioccolata again. "Absolutely. I have complete control over your life. Both your status, whether you're deceased or not... and your job, as well as your freedom."

"What will you do with it?" (Y/N)'s question came out firm, luckily.

"Nothing. In fact, I believe it would be right to let you go. Wouldn't you agree, Secco?"

"Uwah," he responded in a breathy, low voice. It sent shivers down (Y/N)'s spine, for he... he didn't sound human.

And once that thing let go, (Y/N) got on her feet, rose to Cioccolata's level, and with the last ounce of strength, asked, "what will be of me now?"

"That's your choice," the surgeon responded. He lowered his mask with one finger, revealing an ugly grin. "Why aren't you running like a scared little girl you are?"

(Y/N) couldn't turn her back to danger. She simply couldn't. Facing her back to him, not seeing him, seemed like death to her – for something unpredictable could happen. She could imagine his long arm extending once again, and that scalpel being jabbed into her back. She felt the pain vividly, as if she was already en route to her demise. A ting in her back, annoying her already strained senses...

Why was she scared all of a sudden?

"I'm not scared," she told him, glaring daggers at that vicious visage of his. He merely gave her a mocking laugh. It did manage to belittle her.

"Whatever you say. Today must've been stressful, so I believe you should go home now," he dismissed her.

Could she really walk away? Was that what he was insinuating? Forget and walk away? Or did he want to follow her home and kill her there? No, no – he could've killed her already, if he wanted to. Then... was he toying with her? Certainly, and she hated him for it.

"Dottore? You should go home," he once again said, his tone darkening, "stress isn't good for health. See you tomorrow."

Her ears picked his annoyance easily. That was the moment when she actually got terrified – because she felt she got on his nerves and – he could get unpredictable – and it simply felt horrible. Her heart ached as it picked up its pace, her chest expanding for a brave inhale, and she finally took a step backwards.

She felt her expression twitch at last. She gave in. Cioccolata won, and he nodded in approval. The same way he'd nod at her whenever she'd answer correctly during his lectures.

Another step backwards. Her vision distorted once more, on its own – she was so sore, so tired of it all. Never in her life was she forced to handle such... terror. Once her vision cleared, she saw him gaze back at her, pale moonlight sharpening his ruthless features. He had never been uglier.

Third step backwards. She felt her eyebrows droop. She couldn't keep it up.

She turned around and ran. Nothing came after her. Never in her life had she felt such relief when she reached the doorstep to her apartment.

"Signorina!"

(Y/N) halted as soon as she heard that voice call out. Throughout the night, nothing caught her attention, yet this voice –

She turned around. It was a cop, running towards her. A laugh of pure joy escaped her. She was far too lucky.

"Signore, I have to tell you something – "

"Uh-huh, wait a moment," he said as he stationed himself before her, panting heavily. He hid something behind his back, (Y/N) noticed. An alarm went off inside her mind. But... she prescribed it to her state of panic, and steadied her train of thoughts.

"I believe this belongs to you," he said, lifting his head. One of his eyes was thus revealed from the shadows, and it peered curiously at the girl. She got nauseous at the sight.

He gave her the wallet she had forgotten in the clinic. She reached out to take it, hands trembling, as many slow realizations came to her. Only to be proven by the cop's statement.

"The court is no stranger to them, their connections are everywhere, and you will show up tomorrow, unless you want to die. That's what he wanted me to tell you."

She expected to die, once again. And she didn't dare blink, so she could witness her own demise. But the cop waved, smiled, tipped his hat even, and walked away as if nothing ever happened.

She went to bed that night, knowing she didn't do anything about it. Though... she did prepare herself. Took a knife and a phone to message her parents that she's in danger. And she didn't close her eyes once during that fateful night.

She wrote a paragraph to her parents. About everything. She couldn't believe the words she typed – everything was far too surreal. But there she was, reliving the entire horrid event as she explained it to her parents. They were both asleep, luckily... she didn't want to bother them, no matter how ridiculous it seemed, but she truly didn't want to be a burden. Having finished the entire story, she felt guilt creeping up to her. They shouldn't stress over her. She shouldn't stress them.

And from these thoughts she spiraled down to numerous justifications on why exactly she should bother them. But the first, original idea that reached her – that she was a burden – didn't abandon her nevertheless. No matter how hard she wanted to defend herself.

She was well aware that she was entering a nightmare. The only way to survive it for now... was to obey. Because they wouldn't hesitate to murder her. Not only because they wouldn't be punished for it... but because they just weren't human. They had those – powers, surely. Secco sprung out of the floor, and grabbed her, she saw that clearly. And if Secco could've moved like a ghost, what kind of power would Cioccolata have? The surgeon was fully capable of controlling Secco, as far as she had seen. So, he must've had something even worse...

The morning caught her off guard. Her mind must've been a wreck, then. Time passed way too quickly... and so neared her departure to the hospital.

For the first time in a while, she couldn't smile at the mirror. She couldn't even look at it. Somehow, she got ready, albeit sloppily, and left to her hellish internship.

She had checked her phone multiple times before she left. Her parents hadn't responded yet. Wonderful, that was one thing less to stress about.

Strangely, this clinic she entered... she didn't feel afraid of it. Not in the least. She expected she'd tremble at its sight, but now... she didn't feel anything. Once again, she began worrying if she was, so to say, functioning well. This was yet another one of those moments where she'd know what was the normative behavior, and her behavior wouldn't match. How could her heart remain so bleak...?

There they were. The interns. The perfect distraction. Now, if only Cioccolata would disappear from the face of the Earth...

She kept thinking about him while she chatted with other students. And she couldn't handle the anxiety that welled up inside her being. She began stuttering while she talked, so she stopped. Simple as that. But Cioccolata, that goddamned surgeon, where was he? Why did he need her alive?

More importantly, why was she so keen on living? She finally realized the paradox she was in. In the face of death, she was indifferent, but everything she had done so far was in order to keep her alive. She responded to that in no time. An absent smile found its way on her face. She was a coward. And when she saw she couldn't win against Cioccolata... her cowardice guided her to stay calm. Or was it egoism?

The lectures began soon after. And her wondrous superior appeared amongst other doctors. She felt her insides boil, twist and turn whenever he'd speak up. She wanted to kill him right on the spot. That monster. That... she couldn't even think of how to describe him. Yet the word God seemed to fit. He was a psychopath; he must've had an inflated sense of self.

What to do, what to do... what did he intend to do? Why was nothing happening? He didn't speak to (Y/N). In fact, he didn't pay attention to her at all. This only fed her worry, her... restlessness. And patience wasn't a virtue in this situation.

So she walked up to him some time afterwards. Faced him with a tough expression that she mustered out of hatred.

"Signore... what are you going to do," she asked him in a hushed voice.

"What are you talking about?" He feigned confusion.

"Last night you murdered someone and you almost killed me – "

"Are you insane?" He furrowed his eyebrows in visible shock. "What are you even talking about?"

"L-last night... you... and Secco... murdered that guy in..."

"Is this a joke? If so, you can do better," Cioccolata grumbled.

"I just wanted to know – what do you – what will you do with me." She stopped herself, noticing she was tripping on her own words. Dammit.

"I'm... going to give you a lecture today, just like every other day, and we'll have our coffee during lunch break. Just as usual. Unless you want me to be the subject of your nonsensical jokes."

That was when (Y/N) understood. He played dumb, so that the both of them could just... forget it. But he was probably aware that she couldn't forget it as simply. (Y/N) knew this, and she couldn't handle this... even worsened anxiety that was building up inside her. Because she had no idea what to do. But he, on the other hand...

He must've had a plan. And what was it?

That day didn't offer her the response she was looking for. She found herself practically glued to surgeon Cioccolata throughout her stay in the clinic. She was particularly observant of his actions, and he, somehow, allowed it. This made her feel even worse. He had nothing to hide.

She got home, and she lived through yet another sleepless night. This time, she talked with her parents all night long. They would figure something out. Even the police in her homeland was already involved. When it came to the Italian police, her parents insisted that (Y/N) contact them as well.

She said she will, but she couldn't. Cioccolata controlled them. He controlled the court. He... he had to be involved with the mafia. Even if he weren't... he was dangerous enough on his own. Secco... (Y/N) remembered it all too vividly. They weren't human.

The next morning, she was at the clinic once again. The reason: pure fear. Nothing was out of the ordinary except her eyebags... and unusual tiredness. She was completely unresponsive. She didn't utter a word during any lecture. Other interns made sure to point that out. Not out of spite, rather, out of sheer surprise.

Naturally, she wasn't keen on going home either. She knew she wouldn't sleep, again. Yet she decided to leave earlier than usual. She just couldn't handle it anymore.

"Dottore! Could you come with me for a moment?" She heard a familiar voice call out. With an exasperated sigh, she turned on her heel. She didn't have a choice. She began walking back to the building. At its entrance stood Cioccolata, waving to her, much to her displeasure.

"Signore Cioccolata, that woman is an intern," one of the doctors pointed out as he was leaving the clinic. Cioccolata smiled at him, whereas (Y/N) tiredly gazed upwards, her eyebrows slightly raised.

"But I'm certain she'll become a great doctor someday. No harm done in boosting the intern's confidence, after all," the green haired male explained. He was met with approval.

Oh, how fake his words sounded, only to her. She hated the fact she could see right through his acts, his psychopathic charm, whereas other people would just...

"Eh, I presume you're right. This one deserves it," the other doctor responded with a polite smile and bid his farewell to his colleague. Thus, only (Y/N) and Cioccolata were left at the entrance. And her stomach was already doing barrel rolls.

"What do you need me for?"

"Something that will earn you extra internship points. Follow me."

And she did. Not that she had a choice. Besides, this time, there were actually some people in the clinic, so he couldn't do anything shady.

But as he led her through the sterile atmosphere, her fears grew. He brought her to the less used wing of the hospital, and from there, reached the door that lead to the basement. He opened it. Down below... a somber line of staircase. Nobody else in the vicinity.

(Y/N) could've ran. Whenever she wanted to. The alarm wasn't enormous enough, not now.

"Coming, dottore?" Cioccolata beckoned her.

"No. I'm not going in there," she responded with a scowl, already on her tiptoes to turn around and run.

"Or what?"

She didn't get the opportunity to answer, because she was harshly pushed – and fell down the stairs with a shriek. Pain erupted all across her back, and her head – it pulsed hard once she finally landed, no longer tumbling. She couldn't even see for a bit, and the aches made her hiss, her jaw clenched in a desperate attempt to relieve her of the sensations. She looked up, and Cioccolata was once again above her.

His demand echoed against the desolate hallway. "Disobey once more, and I won't hesitate to make better use of you." His words imprinted in her memory with ease. She curled herself up into a ball, her gaze stuck on the mad doctor's descend. She prayed he'd let her live through her pain, the pulsating agony... but would he?

With every step he took, her eyes widened. And once he reached her, she expected him to kick her in her guts so hard that she'd vomit – and she could feel the phantom of this hit in her belly already. But he never did so. Instead, to her absolute shock, he offered her a hand.

And to her even greater shock, she took it. Got back on her wobbly feet, and firmly stood, thanks to him. She stared at him, her vision already blurry from the upcoming tears. Should she... thank him?

She didn't. Just in case. And he liked that.

He let go of her hand. Then, he pointed at the long underground hallway they had just entered. "Go in there and clean up the mess in the last room. That's your job. Secco over here will keep you company." All of a sudden, the mentioned young man protruded through the wall and made another one of his disgusting sounds. (Y/N)'s stomach twisted even more. She had so much cramps... and such an urge to vomit.

"Goodbye," Cioccolata chirped and left, walking up the stairs. She didn't respond – she put a hand on her mouth. She was moments away from spilling her lunch all over the floor.

"Go, clean the room. Kehehe."

She felt an acidic tang in her throat. Then in her mouth. In an instant relief, she vomited, making yet another disgusting sound.

She looked at her barely digested meal that now laid sprawled across the clean tiles. She was so weak. And Secco was laughing at her because of it.

"What was that?"

She felt her heart sink as another voice was heard. It was Cioccolata. The very moment she thought she got rid of him.

She backed away. She couldn't face him. Not again.

Her legs gave in. She no longer felt them. She could only watch as his shadow reappeared down the stairs, approaching her, about to...

"Eh? Secco, clean that up."

Secco didn't react positively to that. He whined and shook his head. This, Cioccolata noticed, and walked closer to (Y/N) and his assistant. But he neared his assistant instead, much to (Y/N)'s relief.

What happened next shocked her. The surgeon slapped Secco hard. The hit resonated against the walls, echoes filled in the silence, as well as (Y/N)'s drumming heart. She was terrified beyond measure. Her being was in such delirium that it would soon... it would soon... she couldn't even think about what would happen. The aggressor was still in her vicinity, and her focus was solely fixated on him. He could do the same to her. Nothing held him back.

But the green haired man soon left, not sparing a single glance on the intern.

(Y/N) didn't even realize how hard she was shaking. She looked at her hands, and they weren't trembling, no, they were violently shaking. She couldn't believe her own eyes.

"Disgusting. Bleh." She heard Secco grumble. Everything about this situation was ridiculous.

"You go clean the room. Come on."

His irritable voice got to her. Somehow, she managed to stand up, and make her way to the designated room. Inside, she was supposed to...

Clean up chunks of meat? Before she knew it, her gag reflex was activated again. She threw up a clearer vomit this time... it spilled and stuck itself on the floor. Another reek joined the already thick air. At least it would be easier to clean up, she thought to herself sarcastically.

Before her, on a table, stood, indeed, chunks of geometrically cut... undoubtedly, human body parts. She didn't want to spot any further details. Plenty of blood was there as well. How to... handle that? She spotted some bags on a tray to her right. Never in her life had she performed a more disgusting, degrading act than that day.

That was all. He didn't have her do anything else. In fact, he dropped some bitter words of praise as she was leaving. As well as some advice.

"Remember, alarming anyone will only make you bigger problems. I've got my own strings to pull."

Did he know? Her eyes widened in pure shock, and he merely smiled with one of his generic gross smiles. She remembered, of course. She remembered who she alarmed. So she nodded to her superior and finally went to her apartment in the dead of the night.

The shower she took afterwards revealed her all the bruises she gained that day. All she could do was exhale and acknowledge them.

She was offline all day, so once she got to use her phone, she saw that she had a bunch of missed calls and texts of her parents. She skimmed through them – no time to waste, after all – and she... she hated herself for doing that, but... she texted them that everything was alright. That she only had a nightmare that she thought was real, and decided to... yes, to test her parents. She wanted to see how they'd react.

Her parents didn't react positively at all. She called them (a video call, because they insisted to see if she was intact), and the tantrum that followed ruined her. They were worried sick, of course, and they'd already contacted (C/N)'s authorities and media... only to find out their daughter tricked them. Wonderful, truly wonderful. (Y/N) felt horrendous, beat, bad in every possible sense.

The numbness was kicking in.

She took the next day off. Called her parents. Somehow, they didn't respond. So, she called them again, and again. Nobody responded. Christ, what was going on...? They were online all the time, and the one time she needed them, they weren't there. The coincidence was too great...

No. Cioccolata couldn't have possibly reached out to them. They were in another country. If Cioccolata was that powerful, he wouldn't be dealing with (Y/N) like that. Unless – why, of course, he was a psychopath. Psychopaths don't make any sense. But still...

(Y/N) gave up. There was nothing she could do, except... run away? And let those two men do whatever they wanted to? Oh, she was in no state to bash her brains about it. Her head was too heavy, she couldn't burden it with more thoughts.

She was hopeless. She spent the entire day in a heavy slumber, akin to none before. Once she regained her consciousness, she realized, horror etched into her senses... that she didn't wake up in her room.

The light was too strong. Too... harmful to her sensitive eyes. They shot open, focusing quickly on their surroundings, all thanks to newfound panic. She was in one of those white rooms. She was on the surgical table. She was, she recognized quickly, she was in the hospital, and –

"Hello, dottore."

It was that voice. The one melody she despised more than any other. Right next to her. But she couldn't move her head, no, for some reason she was paralyzed –

"And goodbye."

The blade entered her sight just an instant before it landed on her heart. The agony forced out an inhuman wail from her. The shriek was a frail attempt of hers to cover up the pain. The sheer ache that took away her life. It made her limbs tense up, whitened her vision, forced her to wake up –

And she woke up. In her own room. And her heart was intact, alive like never before.

How long could she keep on living like this? It had only just begun, and she wanted to die already.

She got out of her bed and began packing her possessions. It took her only several hours to get ready. She had to leave this cursed place once and for all.

But all of her determination vanished.

This couldn't be happening. She closed the door to her apartment, and on the doorknob, there was a sticky note. On it, with an elegant handwriting, in – oh, the cliché – red letters, was written:

Come to the clinic as soon as you see this. I also urge you to take a look across the street, and spot a pair of young men seated in that restaurant. Their appearance is quite unusual, so you'll have no trouble spotting them in the crowd. Those are the hitmen who will take you out in case you don't come.

Take care, Cioccolata

She read every single one of those words with pure, unfiltered rage. What angered her the most was the ending note – take care, he said. He must've been smiling to himself, that bastard, as he was writing that. He must've been enjoying himself! (Y/N) wanted nothing but to see him die.

She turned around, her hair flipping as it followed her quick movement. Indeed, there, in the restaurant, were two particularly... odd men. One of them had long blond hair, and darker skin, and the other one had red, shorter hair. Both of them wore striking suits. And the both of them waved at her.

She clenched her fists in disbelief. So this truly was happening. She truly, once again, had no other choice.

Although it probably meant nothing, she threw a glance full of hatred at the two, opened her door and put the coffer inside. Slamming the door shut, then locking it, she was on her way to that hellhole of a clinic.

She turned around. The two men were following her. So, they really were keen on knowing where she'd go? Her sarcastic thoughts were so much louder than her heartbeat. Again, she was too calm –

And she stopped walking. Stared at that pair, even, with squinted eyes and an overwhelmingly hostile expression. How far could her spite push her? What did she even want to do?

She continued walking. What did she even do? She didn't know –

Her feet slammed against the pavement. Her aggression seeped all around her. She was turning senseless from the rage.

Even when she entered the clinic, the clean tile wasn't spared of her forceful steps. There weren't many people inside, she noticed – the night was coming. But where was that one psychopath she'd been looking for?

Someone tapped her shoulder and she turned, wide eyes, expecting to see him. Instead, the man who did so was one of the two who were following her. His visage radiated with tranquility, the tranquility she was in desperate need for. It shocked her, brought her rage to a halt.

"Strange, Cioccolata isn't here," he simply stated. His voice bore a calming note to it, something (Y/N) was sure to sense and luckily – take in.

"I don't really want to meet him either way," she responded with a forced laugh. She had to laugh. It released her of at least some tension.

"As for us, we didn't really want that guy to waste our time. And he's wasting it right now. Right, Tiziano?"

The other man, presumably Tiziano, nodded.

"But since you can't really go away, we'll have to wait here together," the red-haired man in front of (Y/N) explained. She nodded. They were so relaxed, and their relaxation got to her. The idea of escape seemed more... approachable, at that moment.

But before she could even figure her first step, he came. Forced her back into that state of –

Calm? Why was she so damn calm?

"Tiziano, Squalo, you didn't have to go that far, but your help is appreciated nevertheless," Cioccolata greeted with regality. The pair didn't seem too satisfied – and they even left without a word. Leaving (Y/N) alone.

She could run...! Right now! But those two, could they – yes, they could get her, dammit. She couldn't leave. But it wasn't over. Not yet. There were people all around her...

"Follow me," Cioccolata ordered, not bothering to hide his coldness.

It took (Y/N) all her strength to fight the embarrassment, but she began screaming. In the lobby, in front of everyone. As loud as she could. And everyone reacted.

The next thing she knew, she was falling. Then everything turned black.

Her consciousness slowly woke up her senses. Again, the white of the hospital, so assaulting and aggressive. This time, however, it was very real.

Secco and Cioccolata were in front of her. The assistant was meddling with some object in his hand, whereas the surgeon did something to the apparats beside a patient's bed.

(Y/N) screwed her eyes shut. She didn't want to be there... she wanted to postpone this, whatever it was, she just didn't want to witness it. There was a patient present, and he... he would probably die soon. (Y/N) recognized him to be the homeless man they once spoke about.

She moved her leg, making a massive mistake. She realized she was restrained, and that one slight movement made a sound – cluttering sort of sound – for she was tied to a metallic chair. Goodbye to her intentions, goodbye to her stolen time, Cioccolata and Secco now knew she was back.

The older man lifted a syringe, looking at its contents against the light. He then spilled it into the IVs that were attached to the docile patient's hand. (Y/N) observed him carefully; what was he doing?

He then asked Secco of the cameras were ready, to which the assistant responded with a weird sound, akin to his usual vocations. Sadly, that was when surgeon turned his attention to (Y/N).

"How long do you think he'll endure?"

"I don't know," she said. She didn't even want to think about it.

"Then, a different question. Do you think he would want to die?"

"If you intend to cut him..."

"No, before I get my hands on him. Do you think that he'd want to die, right now? While in his baby sleep?"

Did she hear him right? Her head was pounding, she couldn't focus on his words, let alone figure an answer. "If he wanted to die, he would've done it until now."

"You've got too much faith in his spirit, dottore. Maybe he's just a coward and he's scared to end it all."

She sighed. Why was he so damn insistent on talking? "...How would you know?"

"I don't know. Let's ask him, shall we?"

All of a sudden, he slapped the patient, successfully waking him up. The old man began making incoherent sounds, completely shocked because of the hit.

"Do you want to live?" (Y/N) could see the sadist's lips curl up in his newfound pleasure as he asked.

"...Of course I do! What kind of question is that?" Panic slipped through his tone. "What are you going to do...?"

"It won't change the outcome of your state, surely. Does the intern disagree with her superior that this man has contained the urge to die?"

"If I were you... I wouldn't be so sure, because of... existentialism," she recklessly responded, only to be laughed at.

"Likewise, for I'm certain I can thwart your oh-so educated mindset," he discriminated, only to turn to Secco and tell him to start recording. The patient was oblivious to what would happen.

Before she could realize it, he was cutting. He began the operation. And the man... he was fully aware of it. Awake, conscious, his senses functioning perfectly. Therefrom came his screams.

A long cut across the stomach. Ghastly red came from the wound. His bodily liquids ran free down his stomach, painting it warm tones of life being spilled. The larger the gash, the stronger his screams. He was in such agony that (Y/N)'s very guts tumbled.

The doctor continued his surgery. He opened the cut, he wasn't afraid to get his hands dirty. The same hands he had once used to save countless lives, the same hands (Y/N) would once kill for. And he began his work, enjoying the desperate cries of his patient. This only resulted in...

Pulsating intestines. Their crimson coating glimmered underneath the cold hospital lights. Each and every drop of blood that descended, hit the drums of polished tiles. Lifting the organ upwards was Cioccolata, who rejoiced at his trophy: the man's deafening screams, and his contorted face – amorphous out of sheer pain.

The sight remained implanted in (Y/N)'s mind. She forced herself to watch it, even though she could've closed her eyes. She simply gave in to suffering. She no longer cared.

And oh, Cioccolata was a skilled surgeon. He knew where to cut to keep his patient alive. He knew what to do in order to maximize the experience.

But a human body had its boundaries. The patient's spasms died down, and his throat turned dry. Until he convulsed one last time, marking his early departure with one final wail.

"You..." (Y/N) was speechless. After the realization found her, after she understood the gravity of this entire event – she regained her loathing. "How dare you... do that... You're a monster. You're the worst man on this planet," she muttered. It was satisfying to admit that, but at a cost too high.

It took Cioccolata only a couple of steps to reach her, lift his hand and slap her hard. Throughout the dizziness, the ringing in her ears and the sharp pain that faded from her face, she made out his words.

"I'll advise you, not as a colleague, but as a friend, to stay silent. If you thought you were aware of the consequences, I've proven you wrong. Something you very much dislike, don't you, dottore?"

He glared down to the pits of her very soul, and what he saw was right. He perceived her numerous faults; he knew her better than her very parents, and unlike them, he knew how to beat them. "...true."

"So don't talk unless you're talked to. It would be wonderful to have you too quiver and crumble on the table," he commented, earning no reactions from the intern. He chuckled once he realized that. And (Y/N), she was aggravated.

"You're enjoying yourself, aren't you?"

Those venomous eyes of his widened. "Aren't you? You partake in a newer form of research. You may deem it however you want, but it is, essentially, uplifting man above all norms. A borderless, maladaptive curiosity. Quick to devour, quick to digest. You will always be left with an insatiable hunger for more."

She understood him. And she would forever bear the heavy knowledge of that fact.

"But what of morals? What of society and its rules? Would you like to answer?" He questioned carefully, as if he was probing her. As if he was genuinely interested in what she had to say. And (Y/N) got to be listened to, for once – but she had nothing to say.

"You avoid those," she bluntly responded.

"I was hoping for something more poetic. You're always keen on making things different, outstanding. A pity, truly. You won't be able to do that anymore."

He would get rid of her. At last. She felt disgusted because she found solace in the fact, even for a moment. "You'll kill me. Is there anything –"

"You could do to live? No, you're in my hands, and I am an excellent doctor. Your own words."

She smiled at him. She had never felt such hatred toward another being.

"I promise I won't say anything," she mumbled through her clenched teeth.

"You will stay silent. I know you will." And he turned around.

"Secco. Bring her to room 79 and leave her there. We'll get to her once we clean this mess."

"Oowhooaa," the being gargled. It approached (Y/N) and released her of her confinements. She spotted the skin on her wrists to have turned dark, and once it was set free, she could feel it ache.

She couldn't resist Secco. Cioccolata was right in front of her, and Secco... Secco had his power that rendered him unbeatable.

So she let him, she let him guide her to her umpteenth death. She was as obedient as she could get. She just wanted this to get over with, for once – that was what her manic mind was currently telling her.

He pushed her in a dark room. There were no windows, for it was the basement, so once the door was closed and locked – (Y/N) was left in pitch darkness.

Every sound killed her. Gave her a heart attack, over and over again. Be it a footstep, be it the sound of instruments clinking, be it their voice. Every single thing impaled her eardrums.

She waited for it to get over. Waited long and patiently, shivering as her body grasped its final hours. She lived through her life all over again, multiple times, bid her farewells to her beloved ones. Prayed, that someone on the heavens above would hear her messages, and send them to the people she cared. Her monologues were pathetic, as she intended them to be. There was no need to hold back. She would soon die.

Then she started begging for something to occur. She could swear her ears would bleed soon – for she couldn't handle the announcements of the sensations. Always nearby, but never there. And she yearned for them to finally end, for her to live through her final agony, and finally die.

It was unbearable. She didn't want to die, she wanted it all to just end. But death was her only escape. Yet it wouldn't arrive...! For some reason, she was still waiting, for hours, for hours she'd been twitching and foaming, accepting her defeat over and over again.

And during the period when her thoughts died down and her body turned still, light entered her room at last. The foreign, the unpleasant light, that hurt her eyes – it would guide her to heaven, soon. Her mind enlisted a long line of metaphors, some of them making way into faint hallucinations. But all of them disappeared once he appeared.

"Dottore? What are you doing in here?"

Cioccolata's voice resonated with confusion. This in turn caused (Y/N) some confusion as well.

"You..." She croaked, and only then did she realize how dry her throat had been. How thirsty she had gotten.

"Yes, it's me," he responded leisurely. She saw his shadow enter and enlarge, coming closer to her. He helped her stand up, and (Y/N) noticed his nose scrunch up because of something – oh no. She realized once she heard she stepped into a puddle. Despite that, he seemed rather... peaceful. Cooperative even.

"Why am I alive?" She couldn't help but ask as he dragged her outside the dark cell. The air outside was so much better to breathe...

"Ah, getting overly curious again, are we, dottore?"

His tone. She didn't feel her legs for an instant. "Pardon," she answered reflexively. Her heart ached at this humiliation. It was slowly becoming integrated into her being. She wouldn't have it that way – or so she revolted inside her mind.

"That's no bad trait, mind you, dottore. I find myself indulging in my fantasies far too –"

(Y/N) landed a hit on his jaw. Pain shot through her arm – punching wasn't the most pleasant, but seeing Cioccolata in pain, hearing him wince, that was what gave (Y/N) life. He stumbled backwards, placing a hand on his jaw, and he glared at (Y/N) who showed zero emotions for his trouble.

"Is this assault, dottore? You're doing something illegal, you might get arrested," he warned, his calm voice a contrast to his bewildered expression.

How dare he, how dare he – (Y/N)'s mind turned into a whirlwind of protests, deforming her face into that of pure rage. She would see him pay. She walked backwards, fists balled up, ready to run away and grab anything to murder that monster.

"I won't fucking regret it, and I'll get you to jail with me, you monster," she growled, "or even better, I'll kill you. I'll fucking kill you. I'll – kithl –" Saliva began dripping from her mouth, interrupting her tantrum.

Cioccolata took the opportunity to speak up. "It appears you've forgotten. There's two of us."

That was when she felt something heavy on her back. It had to be Secco. The very moment she felt something on there, she elbowed him multiple times, hitting his ribcage, and hopefully his face as well, for she was aiming there. She wanted to see him suffer.

"Go away – knock it off, go away," she began, then roared, "FUCK OFF!"

The struggle wasn't in vain. Her elbows hurt, but she managed to get him off her back. Secco staggered backwards and fell with a wince – into the ground, vanishing. (Y/N) noticed in the corner of her eye, Cioccolata, approaching with steady steps.

"Don't fucking touch me, don't you fucking dare," she wheezed, hands in front of her to defend herself. And that was all. She was paralyzed, because...

Because she had never seen an expression so grim, so monstrous. He relished in his own apathy and it ruined him. Scarred every bit of his already hideous face. It was far too overwhelming for her.

Then came his turn to be shocked. His brows twitched, eyelids spasmed, as his gaze went above (Y/N). She was quick to follow it.

Behind her stood a... robot, as it seemed, donned in golden and similar colors. Similarly, a bright yellow aura radiated from it – and from (Y/N)... as well?

She felt his clawed hand land on her shoulder. "Run," the figure ordered... in her own voice?

"I've had enough of you," Cioccolata then said, each and every word of his stressed with undivided hatred.

But (Y/N) trusted this being. The instinct was quick. It was a solution deus ex machina, but at least it was there. So... she gathered what had left of her strength, and she ran upstairs. She kept on running. Outside, into the peaceful morning. Somehow, she didn't know how, but nobody interrupted her escape. It was fine. She made it.

She collapsed in the middle of the street as she dialed the police. She couldn't help but wonder if she was burying herself into something even worse.

No. The quiet beeps ticked against her ear while she waited for a response. It couldn't get any worse.

[pastel9girlbunny000die]

Age Gap... AU

Part 1

One Piece The Monster trio~

♡The characters are all between 27-29 unless said otherwise

♡The s/o is between 16-18

Warning: ...Kissing and Cuddles? PDA and nakedness, smoking and drinking

***

Monkey D. Luffy🍖

🍖Dating a younger s/o has never really been a problem or something bad for Luffy

🍖Cause his more of a child than you are.

🍖People outside of your friend group always assumed that you guys are good friends or relatives.

🍖When Luffy's friends found out you two where dating, they we're really supportive and made you feel part of a great social group... better than the poeple you hang out at school

🍖Same with Luffy's family. They accepted you as part of the family without hesitation, but still trying to wrap their heads around how you two even started dating???

🍖Umm ugh... Your family not so much... Your parents weren't very happy about you dating an older guy like Luffy.

🍖It made them worry

🍖But! You did reinsurer them it's was all fine. He has a decent job makes enough to support a family has a nice cozy home and a loving personality.

🍖it got them off your back for a while~

🍖Buttttttt~😏

🍖when it comes to Luffy's looks, he looks pretty young for his age already reaching his late twenties.

🍖When telling others that your in fact dating doing all the sweet loving couples stuff, they believe you since he looks like an older classmate from your school.

🍖But when you tell then his infact an working adult... they don't believe you, they just take it as a bad joke.

🍖You never ask your meat brain for help with homework cause you might start fooling around instead of doing it, if his presence is around you during school work or studying.

🍖Luffy doesn't really care about age since he loves you for who you are rather than what age gender or colours you are.

🍖And he does it unconditionally.

🍖He loves it when you cook a big meat feast for a king! or you randomly give him cuddles or cheeks kisses. It makes his heart beat exstra fast and butterfly's fluttering all around in his stomach.

🍖Luffy introduced you to a lot of new food and you love most of the dishes. But also found a few new food allergies you never knew you had.

🍖Let's just say you know the hospital staff pretty well now.

🍖Small loving touches like these matters a lot to him like all the little things you do for him. It makes him extremely happy.

🍖PDA 😏*Public display of affection*

🍖Luffy doesn't mind holding hands or little pecks here and there in public.

🍖But holding his hand comes with consequences... be prepared to be dragged from placed to place in a public shopping mall or market cause he won't let go when he runs from food course to food course.

🍖But when it comes to PDA kissing, he only allows the quick peck on the lips or cheeks he doesn't do the long make out session. His not one to sit still in one place for too long.

🍖His your man child after all.

Roronoa Zoro ⚔

⚔Zoro doesn't care.

⚔He dates you cause you are you.

⚔He has never been really the one to judge based on looks but when he met you he saw nothing but the most beautiful thing in the world.

⚔He has a really direct personality and isn't really the one to talk much or too clingy.

⚔Zoro doesn't have a solid job he switches from part time to part time, and one of his joba is the reason he met his s/o.

⚔He got lost on his way too your school and ended up bumping into you, literally.

⚔He nicely asked for directions and you gladly let him tag along with you, even though he sometimes turns the wrong way.

⚔It turned out he applied as a substitute teacher for a month at the boys kendo club.

⚔So you had a lot of time getting to know each other 😏~

⚔Other than that he hit it off pretty well with his s/o. From hanging out at school during lunch, to after school and weekends.

⚔That's how you ended up asking him out on a date.

(Definitely demanding to pick him up!!!)

⚔Than started dating. You later on met his group of friends which surprised you though to him not being a kind of person to hang out with a loud bunch but thier his life long friends and good people, you ended up liking them quicker than your school friends.

⚔Zoro's parents have already passed away and his is the only child so it was sad that you didn't get to meet his family and thank them for making this hard working lovable idiot.

⚔It took you awhile to work up the courage to let your family meet Zoro. It's not that you care about if they liked him or not all you wanted to know if they'll let you be with him and keep loving your marimo.

⚔Their reactions where priceless. But they were okay with it. Since they knew the swordsman from high school and he wouldn't do anything to seriously hurt you.

⚔Telling others that you and Zoro are indeed a couple is weird to them he has a bleak personality and a horrible attitude along with him being in his late 20s.

⚔You on the other hand are sunshine and rainbows all the time full of energy and always positive.

⚔How does that mix?

⚔In public you guys always gets mistaken for father and daughter/Son. But you brush it off and claiming your a couple.

⚔Which surprised them but they don't push further though to Zoro sending them glares.

⚔One thing you love about Zoro is taking little naps together. Anywhere the couch, bed, floor, bath tub anywhere you start cuddling him he'll fall asleep on you a few minutes after you'd follow.

⚔He tought you Kendo. And let's say you got a new hobby.

⚔You once asked him to help you with homework. Next day you came in with the excuse, "Ma'am my dog ate my homework."

⚔Zoro loves you with all his heart sometimes he can't help but feel like he doesn't deserve you or his holding you back?

⚔But you reinsurer him with him is the happiest you have felt in you life.

⚔PDA 😳*Public display of affection*

⚔His not really good with affection but he doesn't push you off when you want a hug or two maybe even kisses he will allow it.

⚔His also not clinging kind of guy. So waking around in public he won't hold your hand but he will put an arm around your neck.

⚔And in return one of your hands slips into the back pocket of his jeans giving you the opportunity to squeeze his ass whenever you desire.

⚔He let's it slide. With a tiny blush.

⚔While walking around in any public place you always keep an exstra eye on him (like a parent making sure not to lose thier kid in a large place).

⚔Your more relaxed when his arm is around you meaning you'll be near him at all times. But when his not your six sense activate to mama bear mode all eyes on him at every second.

⚔In one day at the mall you caught him almost mindlessly walking off in a random direction or out the store.

⚔You had to chase after him.

⚔PDA Kissing😚~ Like I said he doesn't mind it but when he gets a little drunk he full on gets you sucked into a full blown make out session he doesn't care where. In public, at home, in you home, out with his/your friends even near your parents. Nothing gets in his ways of what he wants.

⚔Not even your embarrassment.

⚔After all your stuck with your Marimo.

Sanji Vinsmoke 🚬

🚬Sanji is a complete different case than the other two mentioned above.

🚬He's a hopeless romantic.

🚬First time you met him he was dress as a okama. A first expression you'll never forget, For awhile you wonder who that woman was and thought you'll never cross paths again

🚬Destiny proofed you wrong.

🚬You met him again at the Baratie one of the most famous restaurants in town.

🚬In the end you guys talked the night away, you probably interacted with him more than the poeple you came with.

🚬Later on he invites you for a free homemade meal, personally made by him.

🚬He also gave you his number~ 😚😏

🚬That's how you met.

🚬And later on you two became closer there was just this unique thing about Sanji that made you like him more.

🚬Yes he treats woman with the at most respect and kindness, randomly complements any woman he comes across.

🚬Like a true gentleman.

🚬But in his eyes you felt different. He flirts more with you, he does small sweet things for you.

🚬And don't forget the mouthwatering lunch boxes you get to take school.

🚬Sanji spoils his s/o with a lot of affection he can't go a day without a hug or kiss, if he doesn't get either one of them he will genuinely worry.

🚬Sanji thinks it's cute that your younger than him, it gives him more of a responsibility vibe when his near you.

🚬He practically treats his young s/o like the rightful queen/King they are.

🚬But that doesn't mean his a little negative when it came to his age, his not that old reaching his late 20s, he has his doubts.

🚬But when he has these bad thoughts you can see it on his face, it made you sad that he thinks you'd leave him for someone younger.

🚬Your response is making him some nice relaxing hot tea and cuddle him in a blanket whispering sweet words of love to him

🚬It lights his mood a bit.

🚬From time to time, Sanji's s/o gets jealous by the way he treats other women, you could be a little selfish just wanting him to only look at you in that way.

🚬You weren't surprised when you met his friends they care about Sanji as much as you did, they also loved you, finally happy that he got a lover so they could stop hearing his complaints about his single life.

🚬And they kinda use him for free meals. Especially Luffy the leader of their little friends group he always whines for meat, it kinda cute.

🚬You can't really ask Sanji for help in school work/homework, his a high school dropout. And the only thing he can actually help with is cooking classes which you hate. But at least your grades picked up in that class

🚬Sanji never let's you meet his biological family, he forbids the topic and avoids it at all cost. But couldn't wait for you to meet Zeff his adopted father, he literally dragged you to his childhood home to meet the old geezer.

🚬Zeff took you in the moment he met you and treated you like his own daughter/son, he also said "Finally I can rest in peace knowing you won't die alone." At Sanji.

🚬Which result in a small argument.

🚬Like Sanji you refuse to let him meet your parents, afraid they won't accept the relationship and force you apart. So you always give him the excuse that you want to wait or not ready yet.

🚬He respect your decision, and won't interfere or go behind your back. If you can wait so will he.

🚬Buttttttttt😱

🚬One night your Dad/Father decided that the family should go out to eat, give your mom/mother a little break from cooking.

🚬You agree to go aswell. Without knowing which restaurant.

🚬Guess where you went😏

🚬Yes... The Baratie!!!

🚬Your soul left your body. I mean Sanji should be off right ? Right ? Its weekend.

🚬But it got worse when you saw a glimpse of him in the kitchen and your eyes meet.

🚬What go worst that your Mom/Mother took a seat in Sanji's section of the restaurant.

🚬Meaning he will serve you.

🚬At this point you give up and just let it be, tonight your life as well as your relationship will come crashing down.

🚬Mindlessly sitting down, at that moment Sanji came bursting through the kitchen doors like a tornado heading towards you

🚬Wrapped his arms around you kissing you all over your face, right in front of your family.

🚬They where far beyond shock.

🚬By the time Sanji let's go of you, you looked like a morning person who just got out of bed, hair messy clothes messy and a blank look on your face.

🚬It didn't take long for them to start drowning you with questions.

🚬In the end you made sure to tell them,

"Mom/Mother Dad/Father, this is Sanji his the head chef of the Baratie, his also m-my boyfriend."

🚬Your mom/Mother got offended that your dating a professional cook, that is most likely better at cooking than her.

🚬Your Dad got offended that your dating someone older close to his age. (He can't really give the if you hurt my little girl/boy I will end you speech, the blonde must've heard it for a long time and just wouldn't be treated by it.)

🚬But they saw how worried you looked holding Sanji's hand tightly, the blonde seemed ready to start a argument if they would be against you two.

🚬In the end they smiled and nodded.

🚬Sanji and his s/o couldn't be more happy as instant took over and you two kissed passionately and long.

🚬Your Dad/Father had to clear his throat reminding you where you are.

🚬You broke apart blushing.

🚬It all ended up happy.

🚬Telling your parents weren't easy but now that you know that thier okay with your relationship made it easier to tell others.

🚬Let me tell you, Yes Sanji is older than you and everyone can tell that by his looks, so they just assume you guys are relatives or brothers/brother and sister.

🚬Sanji always corrects them, Your his lover not family member.

🚬That's when they turn to you asking if his black mailing you.

🚬You just simply say "No."

🚬You don't need to give others an explanation, knowing you two love each other very much.

🚬Despise Sanji's appearance you ignore his good looking hot abs and body and turn to his eyebrows and personally others make fun of how unnatural they are but they are the most lovable features on him that you like the most.

🚬Sanji smokes, and yes you know that. You never complain or ask him to stop, but you did ask him why he does, he simply just said "I started to smoke to piss off the geezer, I was just a stupid teenager at the time."

🚬You don't like cooking so that kinda got Sanji down, but you didn't mind helping out once in awhile.

🚬You love make overs dressing up and looking pretty. Which made him happy that he can share his okama side with you, you love doing his make up. aswell as styling his blonde wig.

🚬That's how he brought you to meet Iva one of his friends at the kamabakka night club.

🚬You really enjoyed it there and all the others you met.

🚬It was really fun seeing Sanji in his more feminine side and dress as a girl.

🚬It made you happy that he even share his most inner self with you.

🚬Sanji is really happy that you accept and love him for who he is.

🚬PDA *Public display of affection*

🚬Sanji is all over you hand holding, kissing, hugging even making out.

🚬He let's you hold hands and doesn't mind random kisses on his cheeks but he personally prefers his mouth over his cheeks.

🚬PDA kissing 😏~ One thing he loves is being taller than you, so when you want to give affection by kissing you have to stand on you tip toes and only able to reach his jawline.

🚬So you just kiss him from his jaw to his collarbone. Secretly leaving a mark😏~

🚬But when you go out with him dress as a Okama he doesn't let you kiss him much or hold hands but he doesn't mind locking arms with you.

🚬Just to know you're near, and save.

🚬He has one hell of a kick, You found out that out when you guys went out to a bar with Iva and some of his other friends (You didn't drink, being a minor and all but you did have a glass of soda or water).

🚬At some point Sanji got up to use the bathroom. And when he got back he saw a drunk guy harassing his s/o

🚬So with one hit he kicked the living hell out of the guy. (It didn't ended well for that guy, must've hurt more with the high heels boots Sanji's was wearing kicked him😵)

🚬And Sanji angrily dragged his s/o home early.

🚬It surprised you since Sanji wasn't really violent around you much, but knowing he'd even get into a fight to protect you. Made you happy and felt loved. He is the blonde cook you fell in love with after all.

***

[aion-rsa]

Ghosts Series 2: ‘They’re stuck in an existence they didn’t ask for… like all of us’

https://ift.tt/35QzhQ6

The Ghosts creators have worked together for over a decade. To-date, the six-person team (Mat Baynton, Simon Farnaby, Martha Howe-Douglas, Jim Howick, Laurence Rickard and Ben Willbond) have written and performed in long-running children’s sketch comedy Horrible Histories, three series of fantasy sitcom Yonderland, feature film Bill, and two series of the supernatural BBC comedy Ghosts, with a third on the way. 

Channelling Mrs Merton asking Debbie McGee what first attracted her to the millionaire Paul Daniels, I ask Baynton and Howick via Zoom what inspired the group to write Ghosts, a sitcom about a group of individuals who frequently drive each other nuts, trapped together for what may well be eternity? 

Both laugh. “I’m sure we do drive each other nuts in many ways,” says Howick, “but the truth is, like the ghosts, what we always come back to in these episodes is that they love each other and don’t know what they would do without each other. I think that can be said for the group?” He looks to Baynton for confirmation and gets a happy nod. 

Considering the well-documented fallings-out and imploding egos of other comedy gangs – the Pythons not least among them – this level of harmony over such a long period feels remarkable. What’s their secret? “I think we keep each other honest,” says Baynton. “There are certainly heated debates.”

Heated’s too strong a word, says Howick. “We only really fight for our opinion, we never fight each other.” On the rare occasion that there isn’t unanimity about a particular topic, there might be a locking of horns and a democratic vote, but real arguments don’t happen. “There’s no animosity or jealousy with each other’s independent careers,” he explains. “We are our most important project. We have no desire to work each other up. We’re all genuinely fond of each other.”

That much is clear watching them interact. The online BBC press launch for series two was punctuated by the group making each other laugh. Silly voices. Running jokes. At one point, to the absolutely delight of his colleagues, Simon Farnaby’s crotch moved unavoidably front and centre as he stood up in front of his webcam to adjust a window blind. The rapport is real. 

Indeed, during UK lockdown, say Baynton and Howick, the group’s regular Zoom calls drafting Ghosts series three were a godsend. Aside from the boon of having regular work when so much of their industry was in uncertainty, being able to see friends for three hours on a Wednesday evening kept them sane. 

“It’s been a tonic in an otherwise relatively difficult and quite miserable time to have been able to jump on Zoom and make each other laugh with ideas for these characters that we love,” says Baynton. Entertainingly, when the group splits off into writing pairs, each does impressions of the absent characters while drafting dialogue. “It’s funny,” remarks Howick. ‘When we come together as a six, if we’re trying to pitch a positive idea, it’s usually done in a [segues into the regional accent of his upbeat character] Pat voice. Or if it’s a melodramatic idea or if it’s over-the-top, it might be a [Baynton’s Romantic poet character] Thomas voice.” 

Via video chat, it took a little longer for the group’s writing wheels to start turning. Ordinarily a new series would start with two weeks of the gang together in the same room. Stretching that to months of three-hour Zoom calls, fitted in amongst home schooling for the parents among them, was an adjustment. “The energy that you would bring to a room at 10 o’clock in the morning in an office wasn’t there,” says Howick. “You’d have to try and generate this feeling even though everyone was exhausted.”

Howick found himself seeking out frivolity to reach the right frame of mind. He played videogames. “If I sat and thought too hard about what was going on outside my door, it would make me really sad, and so in order to keep a vital part of me going, in order to meet with Mat and the others every Wednesday and keep that bright demeanour, it was good to do that.” The writing momentum started to return with the ease of lockdown, says Baynton. “The simple mental health-saving fact of being able to meet up with family in a garden helped a lot.” 

Read more

Movies

Yonderland: saluting a brilliant fantasy comedy

By Rachel Meaden

TV

The Teleprompter Interview: Katy Wix ‘My First Screen Crush was King Kong’

By Louisa Mellor

Trying to write comedy against a such a serious backdrop of world events also felt uncomfortable, says Baynton. “You feel like it’s almost… immoral is too strong a word, but when there are nurses and doctors and teachers and crucially important people doing the work they do… It felt like an elephant in the room to be tap tap tapping away at a story about another day at Button House and what the ghosts are up to.”

It helped to know how warmly Ghosts series one had been received by its many fans. “What’s touching is when we do get messages from fans who say how much the show means to them. I know how important comedy has been to me in my life, so if we can be that to other people, it doesn’t feel completely frivolous.”

Ghosts, with its colourful selection box of characters (there’s a caveman, a headless Elizabethan, a 17th century witch, an excitable Regency woman-child, an Edwardian snob, a WWII captain, a 1980s scout leader and a 1990s Tory politician) may look frivolous, but series one had moments of real pathos. Baynton is proud of the fact that the series doesn’t shy away from the bleaker side of its ‘dead people’ premise. “If you really interrogate the truth of it – these are people who lived, people who died, people who loved or were thwarted or killed or suffered injustices or never got to love the person that they admired…”

The original idea was for a much bigger cast of ghosts, with everybody playing multiple parts, Horrible Histories-style. It quickly became clear that the story needed to home in on a small ensemble, giving the gang what Howick calls “its own silhouette”. Had they stuck with the original plan, “It would have been like The Muppet Show,” he says. “Every week would only have scratched the surface.” Too many ghost characters would have diminished the show’s emerging premise, says Baynton, which is about “being stuck forever in a tedious and endlessly repetitive existence.”

A bit like lockdown, we joke. Exactly, says Baynton. 

“We talk about this a lot. The way I see it is that their situation is just the same as a living person’s: they’re stuck, they’re in an existence they didn’t ask for, they don’t know why they’re there or what happens next. They know that there is a next ‘thing’ but whether they go to heaven, or hell, or something else, they don’t know. They’re just the same as people on earth.”

Howick agrees, “Their existence is very mortal in that respect.” 

Writing about the afterlife, a sense of existential metaphor is unavoidable, says Baynton. “There is something deeply relatable about it, which is where sitcom will always thrive. You can’t really fail to connect with a story about a person who doesn’t know what to do with their time or who feels stuck. Regardless of class or job or circumstance, that is all of us.”

If the ghost characters are all of us, they’re also peculiar to their time period. The collision and unexpected blending of different social contexts is where much of the series’ comedy comes from. Howick compares the composition of the group to Blackadder Goes Forth, which kept “ranks of characters from different classes stuck together in a hell hole, cheating death every single week.” 

The source of much of the comedy is thwarted status, says Baynton, “It’s the stuff of Alan Partridge and Hyacinth Bucket and Basil Fawlty… people who see themselves a certain way but who aren’t that way to the audience. Every single one of the ghosts is that to some extent. Anything that gave you status in life, you’re robbed of the second you die, so that’s already pretty funny in the sense of a captain who can’t lead, a wealthy woman who has no wealth, a politician who is not recognised as an authority, a poet who can’t pick up a pen, a Scoutmaster with no kids…”

“Not Scoutmaster!” interrupts Howick. “Adventure Club leader!” Before series one aired, they were instructed not to use the “Scouts” organisation name in scripts. “That was before they knew who Pat was going to be,” says Howick. Pat, for info, is a sweetie, and the Scouts should be proud to have him. He’s also a vibrant dancer, as series two, episode two shows. 

“There’s a lot of dancing this series” says Howick. “Without giving too much away, there’s dancing in the last episode. I think Thomas’ best dance is at the end.”

Fans can expect more playfulness with series two. Now that the characters are established and the tone has been taken to heart, the team could afford to experiment a little more. “With series two, because the audience hopefully are with us at this point, we can throw different curveballs,” says Baynton.

“In that way that The Simpsons or those long-running American things, you can suddenly do one in black and white, as if it’s a Hitchcock thing. We’ve definitely had fun. There’s an episode later in the second series which is a format of its own. We’re thinking about those things for series three, being free to be really playful with it.”

There’s a Christmas special episode to come, “the last one ever to be filmed!” joked Farnaby at the press launch. The timing on series two’s filming was especially jammy, with only one day lost to the UK TV and film industry shutdown in March. They made the decision not to use supporting artists in the last scenes filmed, set in a Medieval plague village. The irony of having to tell actors they couldn’t come and play plague victims because there was an actual plague wasn’t lost on them, says Baynton.

Thomas gets a gun in series two, they tease, and we’ll find out how he met his end. “The burning question for fans of the show is how the characters died, and you will find out some in each series,” says Baynton. “There are some we’re holding onto for as long as we possibly can, but rest assured, they’re coming!” 

cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });

Ghosts series 2 starts on BBC One at 8.30pm, with all six episodes available to stream afterwards on BBC iPlayer. 

The post Ghosts Series 2: ‘They’re stuck in an existence they didn’t ask for… like all of us’ appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/2RKeoxw

[themidnightfarmer]

Bringing in some colour || Morgan & Jared

Timing: Present

Location: Jareds greenhouse

Tagging: @mor-beck-more-problems & @themidnightfarmer

Description: Morgan and Jared do some mosaic for the greenhouse, and talk.

Triggers: none i think?

“Thank you for letting me help you with this. It’s been a hot minute since I’ve been able to do something nice with my hands. Or, nice and productive anyway,” Morgan said, her joke laughing behind her eyes. She spread the green glass panes around Jared’s kitchen table so they looked like a sharp-edged rendering of the sea. One by one she picked them up, careful not to let the panes trickle through her fingers or snap under her thumb. She pressed them into the window frame until she heard their quiet sigh of connection and sealed them in safe with a few dabs of her puddy knife. “Who’s the one who taught you how to do all this stuff anyway?” She asked. “Seems like a big job for one fae all on his own.”

Jared blinked over at Morgan owlishly before he caught on to her meaning. He snorted and was eternally grateful that his glamour covered any heat that might take over his cheeks in a blush. “Oh wow. Love isn’t dead I suppose.” he commented lightly with a small laugh. The variety of colours spread out across the only free bench in the greenhouse sparkled in the midday sunlight and he smiled as Morgan fit a full pane of their work into the frame ready to go up. “Google, google and youtube are wonderful teachers Mogan, and tuition fees are close to zero.” Jared joked. “But the farm stuff, I was born in town, this farm has been my family's farm since 3 years before that even. I grew up fixing stuff that broke and managing animals...although my idea of good cattle and my human families? Not quite the same.”

“You might even say it’s un-dead,” Morgan smirked, maybe too pleased with herself. “Romance everlasting.” She reached for one of the smaller pieces and fit it into the grid, trying to see it up close and far away at once. So many little pieces, amplified to so much more beauty by being brought together. “And that is seriously impressive. I mean, I did a lot of that too when I was hustling through the day back in Texas, but it was hard. And I wasn’t very good at it either. I need that personal touch, you know?” She smiled over at him again. “And I still think what you’re doing is more than worth being proud of. I’m not sure who else would even know how to take care of your critters like you do.” A thought came to her then, less bright than her last. “How...how was it in there, at the ring, with their animals? Do you know where any of them ran off to?”

“I find youtube a lot easier than being taught something. School was never my thing so I struggle to learn through being told. But everyone has it different. What were you trying to learn while you were ‘hustling’ in texas?” Jared asked curiously, his own fingers moving over the glass pieces to select one for the mosaic they were constructing. A few of the panes had fallen in on his greenhouse recently. And Jared had decided he wanted something to make him smile, and a little bit of colour would do wonders he was sure. The compliment took the sting out of bringing up the whole situation at the ring, but that didn’t mean the reminder didn’t sting a little anyway. “It wasn’t...very good in there. I tried to keep my focus, but there was a lot going on with everything. Being realistic isn’t easy sometimes. I just wish I could have done something for them all. But that’s not...you know realistic. I don’t blame anyone for protecting themselves, I...do blame the people who took the poor things captive. They deserved whatever they got.” He shot Morgan an uncomfortable look. “Not a popular opinion that one. By human standards I’m supposed to put ‘people’ first.”

“I was mostly learning to take care of myself online and from handbooks.” Morgan said. “But can I ask why? About school? I don’t mean like--I’ve become well aware how the common school systems and classroom set ups in this country underserve and in some cases sabotage growth in some students. I’m always up for finding new ways to accommodate and help my students and, well, you can’t help but think about it when you learn how many species there are and how many of us don’t get a handbook or a community for how to deal with...anything. I can’t imagine how hard it is for people like us to get by on a practical level sometimes. So I just...wondered. It’s good, though, that you found a way to make do for yourself. I’m happy for that.” She tried to busy herself with the next few pieces of the mosaic they were constructing together, but after the first one she had to stop. She looked at Jared with eyes that held only understanding for him. “We’re people too, Jared. And from what I understand from Remmy, they treat dogs at the pound better than they did some of these creatures. I don’t know how to...how to carry what I did there. But I don’t think it was wrong. Not the way other people would think it was wrong. And I don’t know what we could’ve done different, exactly. Those people didn’t...they didn’t see us, you know? They didn’t see any of the creatures they kept locked up as anything with a life of its own. They just let them die, horribly, night after night.” She shivered and wiped away a tear budding at the corner of her eye. “And I don’t believe in moral binaries anyway so, you know, fuck human standards.”

The nymph was lost at first, the man hadn’t ever really thought about why he hadn’t done well in school. It just had sort of been a reality for him, he was sure it hadn’t helped that he’d started skipping. Even fae kids could have a rebellious phase it seemed. But he’d not grown out of it quickly considering he knew he wasn’t even human. “I don’t know honestly, I guess I was distracted by a whole host of other things. I needed to learn to focus, my bones ache all the time, and my mind wanders to my kids. Just maybe didn’t have the discipline or the knowledge to block it out and keep up. My glamour used to be my main focus day to day when I was younger.” Jared shrugged and smiled at Morgan. “Probably not the answer you were looking for, but I had no one to teach me how to manage all those things, so I was a slow learner all around. Never graduated, so it’s not like I can say I HAVE learned to manage myself.” he laughed jovially, not bothered by this fact as much as he used to be. The reality of the ring was indeed a sad one. It moved him to know Morgan felt the same way. He hoped she was shedding a tear for the creatures like he had and not just the people who’d suffered. Although both parties were definitely deserving of the grief. “Human standards suck, always have, according to the very few fae I’ve met. But maybe we’re just the vindictive type?” He reached out to the woman and gave her an encouraging smile. “If it helps. I’ve wandered the woods these last few days and a few have found their way to me. There is hope. They’re glad to be free, and you did that. Not only are your friend Remmy and Nell free, but some of them are too.”

Morgan shrugged. “I don’t know, sounds like keeping up that glamour full time takes a decent amount of concentration and discipline. Maybe you would’ve had the headspace if it wasn’t for that, but letting your fae flag fly in public isn’t exactly practical. Or safe. I think you’ve managed pretty well on your own, though. You’ve got a handle on everything that matters most to you, and that’s the important thing, right?”

She went slowly back to her work, pressing each piece with care and dabbing away at the grout that rose between the pieces so it was squished just right. She wasn’t sure how she felt about the word vindictive. In that moment in the dark, freshly flung from the bear, hearing that woman have the gall to be upset with her, go for her like she was the one owed. She remembered her own rage, her own hurt… “Maybe we wouldn’t have to be if things were more fair. But I am glad, you know?” She sniffled and blinked back her way tinto some composure. “We have our friends back, and maybe there’s some critters who can live their life with a little more peace. I’m not, you know, a longtime fighter or worker for this sort of thing like you are, I didn’t even know half the species I’m aware of now existed until I moved here, but I am...I do think your animals deserve as much of a fair shot as they can get.”

“That is the important thing. Though I wish there was a fae flag. We definitely need a flag. But it’s got to be invisible and it’s got to steal your name when you look at it. Since I’m pretty sure those are the rules.” Jared joked. It was slow work, but the mosaic for the gaps in the greenhouse would brighten the place up, and they definitely needed it around the farm lately. “We do have them back, and you don’t need to be fighting for my kids like I do. No one does, I just really appreciate that you don’t think of them as lowly as you could. Everyone deserves a shot you know?” He paused and put the last few spots of colour into the pane of glass he was working on and held it up towards the window to let the light through it. “But hey, all we can do is our best, all anyone can do is their best. And it’s sometimes not what we want, not enough, or not what you need. But it’s the best you can do. And it’s okay...but in my humble opinion my mosaic skills are godlike and nothing I can create will ever be less than perfect.” he tacked on to make her smile. 

Morgan couldn’t help but snort along with Jared. “Promise binds you on the spot not to talk about it too I bet.” She fumbled with the pieces she was working with and laid the last few down along the section she was working on. “You really are a uniquely understanding person, Jared. I don’t know as much as you do, obviously, but I do believe that everyone should get a fair shot, yeah.” She sniggered again at his pride in his handiwork. “Excuse me! I am clearly a goddess for my contributions to this work of fine art,” Morgan quipped. “We should let it rest before we put it in, yeah? But I think it’s the most beautiful thing ever made by supernatural hands. You know if you need anything more substantial… I mean, you helped break my friends out from the ring and fixed my brain. If that doesn’t make us friends now, I’m not sure what else could.”

He smiled at her widely. “I do try, it’s hard to see things from the other side a lot of the time. But I’m trying to get better. Especially after all this stuff.” Jared shrugged and then admired her work as well as his own. He was really happy with how it was turning out. Asking for Morgan's help had definitely been the key to all this. It was kind of therapeutic as well. “Oh yeah definitely, absolutely. Only gods would be able to create something like this. We’re the highest of the high. No one can even see us anymore, we're so good.” The nymph shrugged. “You don’t need to offer anything to be friends. We can just be friends you know...no strings required.”

Morgan’s face turned sheepish. “Sorry. Old habit, I guess. I was raised to believe in equivalent exchange in all things, to keep my balance with the universe and maintain that balance with everything and everyone I encountered. At least as much as possible. But I think maybe when it comes to certain people, maybe when it comes to friends...balance can look different, or be different than how I was taught.” She ran her finger over the fine glass pieces. They didn’t feel like anything to her but they really were beautiful together, even in all their misfit shapes and humble offerings, they were enough. “Then we’re friends, Jared. No deals or offers or trades. Just friends.”

[pandastern]

Gravity (Bakugou x OC)

Part 2: New Girl In Town (past)

Bakugou x Vigilante!OC

Warnings: angst, explicit language, violence

Word count: 2005

Genre: enemies to lovers ; angst ; romance

When a new student makes an entrance, Bakugou has a real bad feeling. There is something about this girl that just doesnt feel right. From the flaming hair to the calculating glint in her green eyes, everything about her just pisses him off.

Little does he know that his fate is intertwined with the person he despises so much, defining his future path in a way he would have never expected.

part1

“According to the papers the principal gave me, you got in here based on recommendation from... Europe?”

“Yes, sir,” Artemis answered as she followed her new home room teacher.

Shouta Aizawa was indeed a very successful pro hero, but despite his reputation as Eraser Head, he sure was one weird fellow.

If she hadn't known better, she would have taken him for some homeless person. The yellow atrocity he called a sleeping bag wasn't really working in his favour here though, she thought to herself.

Not that it really mattered, she supposed. After all, appearance wasn't always important. Unless, of course, you knew how to use it in your favour.

“Interesting. The semester has already started, though. Why do you think you can show up later in the course than anyone else? Just because you're an exchange student doesn't mean you get special treatment.” Aizawa's voice cut through her train of thought.

The slight edge to his tone didn't go unnoticed to Artemis.

“The transfer process took a little longer than it should have done. I also had an injury that needed to heal first,” she replied with a shrug. “I was told by the head office it wouldn't be a problem. I don't expect special treatment, sir. I'm more than capable of pulling my weight in class.”

Artemis understood that in this school, teachers made the rules. This kind of tyranny prepared each student differently for their eventual goal: to become a pro hero. Not that she was interested in that. Being a hero nowadays was nothing more than a job. Congrats, you could use your quirk, but at what cost? She wondered how many students were aware of all the restrictions that had been put in place for people like them.

“Do you, now? Your confidence is admirable, but let's see if your actions actually match your words,” the teacher scoffed.

Narrowing her eyes, Artemis studied the man in front of her. Hobo aesthetic or not, there was a danger that lurked beneath the surface, and she'd be a fool to underestimate him.

“All right, class, get in your seats and shut your traps. We've got a new student here with us today,” Aizawa said, kicking open the ridiculously large classroom door. “Ms Moon, introduce yourself quickly and take a seat. I've got a lesson to teach.”

The entire class of 1A perked up. A new student? That was something almost unheard of. Katsuki Bakugou let out a scoff. Another extra in this class. Great. He tore his crimson eyes from the window and looked towards the front of the class.

A girl stepped in. She was rather short for his taste (not that he had a particular taste in women – that was a fucking waste of time). Her long hair was tied up in a ponytail and was coloured... several shades of red. He had to admit he'd never seen such a strange colour combination. Red, auburn, ginger and bright orange ran through her hair, making it look as though her head were literally on fire. Was that a hairdressers' appointment gone wrong? Or had she really been born with hair like that?

Not that he cared, obviously.

Turning towards the class, the girl bowed politely and surveyed the room. Big, luminous, emerald eyes fell on Katsuki, sending a chill down his spine.

What the fuck?

“Hello,” she said. The accent in her Japanese was prominent, though not in a way that made him cringe as it did with so many foreigners, he had to admit.

“My name is Artemis Moon and I've transferred here from a school in Europe. I look forward to working with you all.”

It took just those few words to make the hair on the back of Katsuki's head stand. Something about this girl was... wrong. Again, those creepy catlike eyes met his, and the corners of her lips curved slightly upwards. Katsuki was quick to decide – he already hated her. From the way her posture was as straight as a goddamn soldier's to the calculating glint in her freaky eyes, everything about her just flat-out pissed him off.

He could hear Kaminari and Mineta high fiving each other in the back as the girl, Artemis, moved through the rows and took a seat between Uraraka and the pink girl whose name he'd already forgotten again. She smiled as she made exchanged a few words with them. This seemed normal enough, even though Katsuki could clearly see that the beaming smile this Artemis gave her classmates never truly reached her creepy eyes. How did no-one else notice that?

Morning classes were surprisingly unspectacular for Artemis' taste. Stuff like English wasn't too hard for her, but maths in Japanese was just murder. She'd already figured that as a foreigner, she'd have some sort of problem in that department.

At lunchtime, a very cute, bubbly girl named Ochako Uraraka took Artemis by the sleeve and practically dragged her to the cafeteria. Not that she particularly minded. Artemis was grateful at being introduced to her classmates in this friendly manner. It was a nice group, she found, easy to talk to and get along with.

“Say, Artemis,” a rather outgoing girl with pink skin named Mina (if she remembered correctly) asked. "How do you like UA so far? Is it better than your old school in Europe?”

“Well,” Artemis said, taking a bite from her tempura shrimp, “It's... different. UA High really does have a different standard. The students are nicer, too!”

She gave her new friends a wink.

“In my old class, everyone was constantly at each other's throats. That was because you got kicked from the course if you don't produce the right results.”

“What?!” Izuku Midoriya gasped. “That sounds horrible! What if you were having a bad day?”

“It wasn't as bad as that. But if you failed several times in a row, well, you were fucked.” Artemis shrugged.

The conversation moved along to where she was from exactly and what her family was doing. She made sure her answers were satisfactory but still vague. Neither topic was something she particularly liked to talk about. She hadn't made her way all the way to Japan to be reminded of the shithole she had come from, that was for sure.

As the conversation shifted back to the upcoming classes, Artemis suddenly felt someone's eyes burning into the back of her head. She turned and noticed the same boy from today's class sitting behind her. He'd been staring at her before, when she had introduced herself. If she didn't know better, she'd think he was plotting her death.

“Uhm...” She tapped Uraraka's shoulder. “What's his problem?”

Ochako followed her gesture to the ash blond boy sending a murder stare in her direction.

“Oh. That's Katsuki Bakugou.” She looked a little worried. “He's... something else.”

Raising a brow, Artemis turned to look at Mr Grumpy Pants again. She had the urge to go over and tell him that a picture of her might have lasted longer, but starting an unnecessary fight on her first day seemed like a stupid thing to do.

Suddenly, Bakugou shot up and stomped over to her. Did he have a mind reading quirk or something?

He stopped in front of her and glared down, lips pulling into a snarl. “I don't know who you are, but don't you dare get any fucking stupid ideas. You ain't special just cause you're from Europe or an exchange student. I'm the best person here and I'll stomp your ass into the fucking ground, so don't even try! Fucking loser!” Every word that came from his mouth dripped with arrogance and venom.

Wow, Artemis thought. What an absolute ass. Was he trying to intimidate her? She felt Midoriya shrink some sizes next to her and that told her everything she needed to know about this dick.

She put on her sweetest smile and beamed at Bakugou. “Hello, Artemis! Nice to meet you. My name is Grumpy McTwatface,” she purred in a sickly sweet tone. “Hello, Grumpy McTwatface! How can I help you?” She held out a hand and shook it with her other in a mocking handshake.

Across the table, Kaminari and Mina snorted into their soda glasses. A vein popped up in Bakugou's temple, throbbing dangerously.

“What the fuck did you just say? I'm gonna fucking kill you!” he roared.

Was he being serious? Right here in the cafeteria? Artemis couldn't help but let out a laugh. "Oh, boy. You have a pretty temper there, my man.”

The vein on his temple grew. This shouldn't be as fun as it was. She really shouldn't provoke an obviously short-tempered twat on her first day, but she'd never been good at resisting temptation. Especially if Bakugou's reaction was so damn rewarding.

Artemis turned towards her new friend and sighed deeply. “You know, I spent a summer in France once. My Brother and I still had some firecrackers left over from New Year. He dared me to stick them into those portable potties they have on construction sites, and since both of us were particularly bored, I lit them and did just that.” She gave Bakugou a side glance and continued nonchalantly, “The end product of that little joke reminds me particularly of you... Katsuki Bakugou, was it? A flaming pile of shit.”

He was fuming. Artemis could practically feel the rage radiating off him. The scent of nitroglycerin hung in the air.

Bakugou's hand shot forward, grabbing a fistful of her blouse and ripping her out of her seat onto her feet.

“I'm gonna blow you to bits,” he hissed.

She really shouldn't have risen to it. Artemis knew she should do her best to diffuse the situation. She knew that provoking this guy and making an enemy was a very stupid move. But something about him just asked for it.

“I highly doubt that,” she purred with a smirk. “Barking dogs don't bite.”

Artemis could see her own death in his eyes. Maybe it should have scared her, but the kind of life she'd lived up to this point had made her too destructive to fear for her own safety. His rage pushed her further. There was a thrill in this back and forth that she couldn't explain.

Before Bakugou could respond, the sound of a loud bell cut through the loud noise of chattering students in the cafeteria. Using this distraction, Artemis tore herself from his hands and grabbed her bag off her seat.

“Well, this was nice!” she chirped. “Shall we go?” She turned towards her new friends, who'd been watching the altercation with a mixture of astonishment and worry. Izuku, especially, looked afraid for her life.

“Don't think I'll let you off easy. I'll kick your ass in combat training!” Bakugou snarled at her before turning and stomping off.

“Good lord, that man needs a chill pill,” Mina sighed. “You should be careful, Artemis. If you provoke him too much, he'll go off on you.”

“Oh, I'm counting on it,” Artemis chuckled.

“All right, kids! Time for combat training.” Aizawa's somewhat bored voice echoed through the training grounds.

Artemis stood with her classmates in a little group as the teacher explained the rules of today's activity. His eyes remained glued to her. Something in Artemis' gut told her Aizawa was planning something she wouldn't appreciate. Maybe that was revenge for giving him lip earlier. She sighed and tugged on the jacket of her sports uniform. For a tracksuit, it was rather constricting. She preferred to have her arms bare. Oh well...

Feeling the burn of two crimson eyes on her, she shifted her attention towards Bakugou. He was staring again, shooting daggers at her. Guess she really had pissed him off big time.

“Artemis Moon!!

“Huh?” Artemis hadn't even noticed Aizawa had addressed her. “Yes?”

“I would appreciate it if you paid attention in my class.” The teacher raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms. “You and Bakugou, into the ring, now.”

Well, damn.

[harthuntcr]

( sabrina carpenter. nineteen. she/her.  )   everything’s fine, MAYA HART-HUNTER,  you’re in the good place!  do you remember your last days in GIRL MEETS WORLD? but don’t worry, your  ( bay windows, perfectly messy hair, pencil sketches, subway stations, layered necklaces)  will fit perfectly with the rest of the good place, so long as you commit to the  UPBEAT OPTIMIST  despite your tendency to commit to  (a constant need to prove she isn’t broken)  that the architect of the good place said you were. it’ll just be like a fun acting exercise! just play along and everything will continue to be fun.

honestly the only one that’ll fully read this is me but i just rewatched all of gmw so here’s a few of maya’s defining quotes with some info tacked on ! (to sum it up: major daddy issues, minor mommy issues, craves stability, great artist, cares SO MUCH about her friends, deserves better !)

maya penelope hart-hunter, nineteen, crossning

“hi, i’m maya. you’re really cute. we should hang out sometime. you make me happy. you don’t pay enough attention to me. this isn’t working out, it’s you, not me. we can still be friends, not really.” 

maya is introduced as riley’s shawn, as her very best friend in this universe. she’s bold, fierce, rebellious, loud, and everything that riley isn’t. she wears lip gloss, she marches right up to cute boys on the subway, she is the night. she is dark and mysterious. 

“ i was a little girl, and i climbed through an open window because i heard singing. i was attracted to what i saw inside. it was someone safe…”

she and riley meet as small children when she wanders into her open window. her parents are fighting. they never seem to stop fighting. 

she never leaves riley’s side. it becomes a simple understanding that they are an extension of each other, no longer separate entities. her loyalty is a defining quality to her.  

“i do go outside, riley. i watch the light move during the day. and you know what happens at 5:30? you turn gold. everything is more beautiful at the beginning and the end of the day, and i want people to see that. i want to capture that. i didn't mean to believe in something.”

maya is an amazing artist. she can also sing, but she is partial to painting and sketching when she is at home. her favorite teachers are, as expected, her art teachers, and that is always the class she excels in. 

"when i was real young, i used to come to this park and look at this statue and wonder if i would ever have friends as good as these. that would hands with each other and smile. i used to wonder what it was they were so happy about. now i know.”

this just be a cute quote. her friends are the stars in her sky and she really would do anything for them if they need it, sacrificing herself over and over if it meant they could be spared for even a second longer. 

“i’m gonna get an education from him. and i’m gonna earn my own money. and someday i’m gonna have a good place with good walls and a good roof.” “and what are you gonna do for everybody else?” “everybody’s a lot of people. but if i could afford it, i would fix somebody else’s roof.” 

she understands not having a lot. maya has a hole in her wall and a leak in her roof. she takes care of things gifted to her because she knows the value they truly hold. she comprehends that if her mother didn’t work extra shifts, her lights wouldn’t be on and their water wouldn’t flow. she doesn’t take what she has for granted, and it definitely stuck with her as she grew into adulthood.  

“you had everything. family meals around the table. i wanted that. ‘how was your day, maya?’ ‘it was great, dad.’ you had that. you went to bed with a smile on your face every night, while i went to bed wondering if my father was going to be at the breakfast table in the morning. i wanted that.” 

maya has half a mom and her father left, which she blames on her half a mom. of course, she doesn’t realize that it’s because her mother also got left, but shawn helps her see that. this also starts to build up her wishing for shawn to step in as a more permanent part, but hope is still for suckers, ladies and gents! 

“my teacher thinks if i forgive you, it'll bring me peace. and he's usually right about these things, but i don't see how he's right about this one. and i can't. your job was to stay. you don't think i had it in me to allow my father to grow?”

when maya writes to her father for an assignment, she gets the closure she needs to understand that it isn’t her fault he left. of course, it doesn’t fully settle. it never does. and she realizes that she can’t forgive him for leaving yet. daddy issues galore. but she’s not angry anymore and that’s important.

“i could always hear my mother crying in her bedroom. i’d try to go in and stop her from crying… but i couldn’t. so, i’d try to fall asleep next to her… but i couldn’t. ‘mom, would you stop crying if daddy came back?’ ...and she’d look at me and say, ‘we don’t need anyone else, babygirl. all i need is you…” too much responsibility. can’t sleep, riley, been up since i’m four.”

after katy and shawn get engaged, maya is scared. she doesn’t know why they can’t just date forever. she really doesn’t like change. plus! they don’t have the best records! she even tries to come between them, to ask why shawn would be doing such a thing when he knows what the universe does to people like them. 

they get married anyways!!! shawn surprises them with an entire wedding set up on the roof because that’s how he rolls (spontaneous and romantic), and he surprises maya not too long later with adoption papers which is why she’s maya hart-hunter now. 

“my voice is still my voice, riley. you're gonna need to show me a lot more than clothes and hair and a boy before i believe that it isn't.”

when maya starts to get good grades, starts wearing more dresses, starts showing signs of growth as a person, she is told she simply is becoming riley. i personally hate this plot line! but it’s canon so i gotta mention it! i feel like she should’ve been allowed to grow!!!! she should’ve been allowed to have good things happen to her!!!!!!!!!!!!! but whatever!!! 

“i feel like... if you know me at all... and you know the last thing i would ever do is want anything that was riley's.”

triangles are one of maya’s biggest triggers because she was part of one and it really almost tore apart her entire life. liking the same boy as riley consumed the better part of her middle school years and her first year of high school. i don’t think she ever actually stopped liking lucas, but she stepped back again for riley’s sake because, as she says, the last thing she would want is something that belongs to riley. her first boyfriend falls directly under that category. so she filed all of those feelings away to never be touched again because if they were horrible things would happen! 

“boyfriend and girlfriend eventually.”

stepping back from lucas worked out in her favor because it opened the door for josh! who riley could never like because that is indeed her uncle! she went out here and there with a few artsy boys throughout her high school years just so that she could double date with riley, but nothing ever stuck. she didn’t mind. her and josh were also awkwardly always more than just friends but never more than friends, but as she got older, her feelings for him just got stronger, so she buried them and focused on school and art and life and boys are simply just not everything! contrary to popular belief! and what her journal from sophomore year with ‘mr. and mrs. josh and maya matthews’ doodled all over it say! 

then toward the middle of her senior year, she started going to more nyu parties after a messy breakup (not technically a breakup because maya didn’t think they were dating which was the entire issue!) with missy bradford (who hosted the best parties) and that is where she starts running into josh more often. he starts walking her home, they are constantly talking, they’re hanging out, and it’s not that they didn’t do that before during family game nights and family outings and family things or even sometimes just to do it when he was around, but now she sometimes actually on campus because she has friends at nyu, mutual friends of his from parties that invite her to trivia and concerts and events. then, her birthday passes and their age isn’t an excuse anymore. 

when she dies, she is rounding out her freshman year at nyu. she is majoring in art education, is finally dating the guy of her dreams, and has the world in her reach. :( 

exactly how she dies in my app/ last memory: she and josh were driving in the car and she turned the voice off the gps because it interrupts her music for no! good! reason! plus why does he even need the voice? she is sitting right there she can just tell him when to turn. it’s so annoying and her voice is way better and so she is turning it off despite his protests because she wants to get through one song peacefully, it’s not going to kill them to turn off the stupid robot voice- but it definitely does. she gets too lost in her song, forgets to tell him to turn, he takes his eyes off the road because he is sure they have missed one, she can’t believe he doesn’t trust her navigation skills, he points out that she was giving a concert not navigating, she repeats it back in an annoying voice with a face that he laughs at, she restarts the song because he interrupted it, and bam! dead.

[wheremytwinwatches]

[Where My Twin Watches]: Full Metal Alchemist Brotherhood Episode 30

Last time: May Chang ducked just in time, Doc lost patience with his patients, and Ed decided to go for a double-major. Onwards!

Roy? Faded-out colors? Wait, are we getting a flashback episode? Come on, we just started progressing the plot again, especially after Beard’s episode-long mental debate. Ok, fine. Some old guy in a sickbed is refusing to teach Roy “Flame Alchemy” (aka the one thing he’s known for so I can tell how this is going to go) because he’s joining the Military. Obviously Roy’s teacher, given the different hair color I’m guessing not related. Student!Roy keeps talking about how Amestris is under threat from all sides, that the military needs Alchemists to protect their homes, but Master refuses to hear it. Even an appeal to Military funds to deal with the rundown house doesn’t work, since Master doesn’t need a grant for “something I’ve already completed.” What was Master researching? Master muses about he’s created “the most powerful alchemy”, and he’s grown complacent since completing it. The guy is definitely a Ravenclaw, saying that Alchemists have to hunt for knowledge all their lives, that he’s “been dead for a long time.” Oooh, and now Master’s coughs are a bit more wet sounding, we know that Roy figures out Flame Alchemy later but it’s not going to be from this- [Student!Roy]: “Are you all right?! Master Hawkeye!” [Master Hawkeye]: “Look after… my daughter. She’s in possession of… my research…look after...” Whoa, Master is Riza’s father? Was Riza’s father? Ok scratch my earlier complaining, I am totally down for an episode on how Roy and Riza met! Episode 30 - “The Ishvalan War of Extermination “ ...of course. I get all excited about seeing how my #2 ship first met, and of course it takes place during a friggin genocide. Thank Leto, their first meeting wasn’t in the middle of the ‘Civil War’. I guess they met up when Roy studied under Master Hawkeye, they seem familiar enough as they stand in the graveyard at her father’s headstone. Uh, Roy? I may not have much experience flirting or dating, but I’m pretty sure giving a girl your number literally over her father’s dead body is a slight faux pas. Beyond that, we get Roy giving his idealistic “I wanna make a difference in this country” speech, Riza saying she thinks it’s good to care. And with that, she trusts him with her father’s research. Back to modern day it seems! Gratuitous shot of Riza in the shower good LETO what is that on your back? Ok hold up, Riza’s always been one of the few in their merry band who doesn’t use Alchemy, faces down foes who can generate and manipulate matter with only her pistols or maybe a rifle. But that giant tattoo on her back (scars aside) just screams Alchemy, with something like that I’d expect her to be throwing lightning around with the best of them. What’s the story here? Barking dog? Oh yeah, Riza was walking a dog back when Barry made the poor decision to attack her. And Ed continues his streak of losing horribly to canines, he’s stopped by to catch up with Riza after everything’s that happened. Oh, and to return the gun! Riza’s cleaning it as Ed says he never had to use it. Or rather, he could never use it. Face to faces with Envy, he- Never mind, he’s talking about the time he dropped the gun facing Scar, and then stopped Winry from shooting him. Yikes, keep talking down about Riza’s method of combat as “something evil”, I’m sure she’ll take that well. (And hoo boy, this is gonna be an interesting episode if we go into the ethics of firearms, isn’t it?) Riza says he’s just dwelling because he made it back alive, he just needs to focus on living, to help Winry. [Riza]: “How else can you protect her? I mean after all, you love her, don’t you?” [Ed]: *spit take on the dog, frantic denials* Ha! But back to serious business, Riza’s saying that she’s killed too many to feel sorry for herself, that she chose this path. Yikes. Need to remember that although I don’t think we’ve seen Riza kill anyone on screen so far, she was involved in Ishval like all the other State Alchemists. Just like in another reality, Hawkeye can be a good friend, but they’re still a trained killer. Speaking of Ishval, Scar’s questioning Doctor Marcoh about his involvement in the genocide! Then we’re back to Riza, talking about the Ishvalan homeland and people. A place of sand and rocks, with a resolute people. A faction protested their annexation by Amestris (so was there a war of conquest before this, or did Amestris just roll in one day and say “You lot pay us taxes now”?), a random soldier/Envy shot a kid, the torches and pitchforks were taken out, and civil war raged for seven years. Huh, that long? With how calm and peaceful the Ishvalans seemed in past flashbacks and the sudden shock of cannons firing on Scar’s town, I thought this was a much quicker affair. Then, the Fuhrer signed a little piece of paper called “Executive Order 3066”.

Obligatory comparison is obligatory. So the Ishvalan War of Extermination began, and we get the now-familiar clips of cannons firing and blue-eyed soldiers marching in, with flashes of State Alchemists doing their thing. And- oh, Leto. By this point Riza had joined the military. As a sniper. That’s… that scene of seeing the Ishvalan through the scope… her eyes... [Riza]: “Most combat is blind. A normal soldier might fire erratically without a clear target in mind. But it’s different for snipers. Someone is sure to die when we pull the trigger. Where other soldiers don’t always have a direct line of sight on the effects of their actions… snipers do.” And then we’re back to the State Alchemists, who share a sniper’s viewpoint. Some pompous guy who I dimly remember getting HoD’d by Scar. Roy snapping his fingers. A familiar metal glove slamming down and Earthbending up a wall to block fleeing Ishvalans. And young Armstrong kneeling behind that wall, trembling as he listens to the Ishvalans being gunned down on the other side. ...why did I agree to see this show? We’re in the Amestris camp now, a guy who I’m pretty sure is Mr. Monopoly is ranting about “the savages” taking his leg, when Hughes (guuuuuuuuuh) spots Roy walking through the white cloaks. He turns around to show the same eyes as Riza. And as Hughes chats with Roy cleaning up, the Flame Alchemist points out those same eyes behind those shiny glasses. A letter? Aw, Hughes got a letter from Gracia, after the initial glee attack he starts worrying that being all alone in Central some creep’s going to hit on her. Awwwww. Wait, no. No! [Roy]: “Hey, Hughes? I got a little advice for you. It happens in movies in novels all of the time; the soldiers who never shut up about their girls back home? *finger gun* They don’t make it.” HOW DARE As heartbreaking as future events will be, it is good to see Hughes happy, having something to look forward to tomorrow. And then the mood goes RIGHT BACK DOWN as Riza shuffles up and greets Major Mustang, asking if he remembers her. Leto, this is the first time they’ve met since her father’s grave?! “Damn this war” indeed! Two mid-ep pictures of gratuitous-Riza with her tattoo? Although in the first one there’s no scarring… The three are sitting in camp now, wondering why they’re being ordered to kill citizens rather than protect them. [?]: “Because that’s the job we State Alchemists have been given to do!” Wait. Wait wait wait. I don’t have subtitles anymore, but that face… Mister Smiley? Oh wow. Mister Smiley is an ass. Guy’s happily saying that their job seems to be causing tragedy, and then slams Riza by asking if she feels satisfaction and pride when she shoots an enemy. Yeah, Asshole. Get this guy in the show proper so I can see his ass getting kicked, writers. Roy confronts Kimblee, who insults him for putting on a uniform and then being “surprised’ when he has to kill and arguing that the only thing worse than killing is turning your eyes away blah blah blah just SHUT UP you ass. This whole situation is messed up beyond anything our characters know at this point, but by no means can you sit there and say that it’s right. But it’s time to get back to “work”. Kimblee saunters off with a smile, and Hughes has to go as well. While explaining to Roy that his reason to fight is simple; he doesn’t want to die. Back to Marcoh, overseeing some Ishvalans getting ritually sacrificed to make a Stone. And to be completely honest… I’m a bit underwhelmed at the size of the sacrifice. Maybe it’s just how Leto-damn dark this show is, but with all the talk about the Ishvalan War being a cover to make Philosopher’s Stones I was expecting to see a heck of a lot more people dying to make the MacGuffin of the series. Or maybe…? This Stone was given to Mister Smiley, who Scar recognizes as the one who killed his family. We see the Crimson Alchemist laughing madly as he turns the battle around with that single stone, ranting about the “beautiful sound” of destruction. Again, get this ass into the show proper so he can suffer. Teatime with Riza again, now talking about how the Ishvalan High Priest surrendered personally to the Fuhrer- who mocks him for his ‘arrogance’ at offering his life as an equal exchange for every other Ishvalan’s, and when the guy’s flunkies declare God will punish him Bradley taunts them about how God hasn’t struck him down yet, how if they want to see him struck down for all his atrocities (his word, not mine, the guy literally calls his own actions ‘atrocities’) that they should use their own hands. Easy for you to say, buddy. You’re not the one with their hands tied behind their back. So the war ends, Roy gives his “I’ll protect my loved ones so they can protect their loved ones” speech now set to much more menacing music than last time, and after he has a staredown with the Fuhrer he’s sitting in his office when Riza walks in. Wait, “decided to take this path after all”? I would have thought that her serving as a sniper meant she was already in the military, how does that work? Or maybe it’s that she’s still continuing in the military even after what she’s seen in Ishval. [Riza]: “If the world truly operates based on the principles of Equivalent Exchange-” EEC: 11 “-then we soldiers have plenty to give back.” And with that, Roy assigns Riza to be his assistant, to watch his back. Aww, the couple’s finally- [Roy]: “Although, I expect you understand what this means. You’ll be able to shoot me in the back as well. If I ever deviate from this path, then I want you to shoot me. And I’m trusting you to do so. Do you accept my offer?” [Riza]: “Of course I do, sir. I’ll follow you into hell if you ask me to.” ...well ok then. I guess that’s one way to ask someone on a date. Back to tea time, Ed’s asking how things can be fixed even if Roy becomes the Fuhrer. That’s right, he’s grown up in Bradley’s military state, hasn’t he? Riza talks about restoring democratic principles, bringing back Parliament, charging the ‘heroes’ of the Ishvalan War as war criminals- wait, what?! Wow. Ok then. So even if our good guys beat the Goths, uncover the corruption of the Military and restore power to the people, they set themselves up to take the fall. That’s… wow. Ed protests that it wasn’t their fault, that the Goths were pulling the strings, but Riza just says that regardless of who started it they still carried out the orders. No hiding behind the chain of command, here. Ouch, Riza. You’ve carried around Mister Smiley’s words all this time, about never forgetting those you kill? I mean it’s great that you turned around that monster’s meaning, but still. What a way to live. Al’s saying bye to the Doc when May stops him, to thank him for saving her and her panda. She’s surprised to learn he’s an Elric, gripes that he probably looks like his mean older brother- Al, no. Al, NO! YOU KNOW NOT WHAT YOU HAVE UNLEASHED! Well ok then. That was a Leto-depressing episode for the most part, we got introduced to a character that I can’t wait to meet a painful demise, there’s an intriguing mystery of Riza’s tattoos and scars, and then we ended on Al making the second-biggest mistake of his life. Can’t wait to see how that turns out. After credits scene: Envy’s knocking on a door, asks if the Doc’s decent. Notes that it’s dark and quiet when he brings in food- and yup, Scar got his Vengeance on the one who empowered his family’s murderer. One down...

[ohjohnno]

Outrageous Fortune Reviewcap: S1E07 (”Foul Deeds Will Rise”)

Y’know, I never really appreciated how good some of these episode titles were until this second run-through. Foul deeds in-deed. This episode is really something else, and I’m going to enjoy running through it, but before I do I just gotta quickly clarify one thing.

I mentioned, in the first post, that Loretta had a penchant for blackmail and also that she’d found a way to skip school most of the time. Well, I forgot to mention that those two were one and the same. Jethro’s current girlfriend, Caroline (who I misidentified before as the headmistress - she’s actually only deputy principal) has been fucking him since he was fifteen, and Loretta has pictures. She’s using that to blackmail her into letting her skip just about every day at school. I mention it now because it’s about to become very important.

I’m gonna have to do this episode in much the same way as I did episode four. It’s not nearly as dizzyingly densely-written as that one, but it nonetheless eschews the usual separate-plots format to focus on one fairly distinct throughline. There are, I suppose, technically two plots, but they have pretty much total overlap and are both driven almost entirely by the same character: Loretta West.

She gets this episode all to herself, pretty much, though Ted and Jethro naturally play very important roles. This is our deepest look into her psyche yet, and it happens - not coincidentally - to be another of my favorite ever episodes of the show.

We open with all the Wests, except Jethro, in the kitchen. Ted’s about to go off to play bowls with Margaret, and Loretta’s not any happier than she was last episode. Ted mentions that Margaret is on the local committee for the sport, which will be important. Margaret shows up, and cajoles Ted into admitting that the two of them are planning to move away together, which leaves Cheryl pretty much overjoyed. Loretta, though, looks as if Ted just tore out her heart and shattered it upon the ground. 

The two of them leave, and Cheryl reminds the rest of them that Jethro’s bar admittance ceremony is coming up (Van’s not enthused about having to go). Loretta, though, doesn’t give a fuck; she follows Cheryl into her room and immediately sets about trying to convince her to stop Ted from leaving. 

It doesn’t take one of Loretta’s intellect to work out that Cheryl is just happy she won’t have to look after Ted anymore, and she doesn’t bother trying to deny it. So Loretta turns to her next tactic: she immediately, and without a moment’s hesitation, outs Margaret as transgender to Cheryl, and in the most primally transphobic way she can conjure. “You know she’s a man, right?”, she seethes, making various horrible gestures as she explains it all to Cheryl. And Cheryl is certainly shocked, but it’s the neutral, just-plain-amazed kinda shock, free from any judgement and remarkably lacking in any real prejudice. She has no idea which pronouns to use, but ultimately just doesn’t really care. “Look, Margaret is a very nice woman who used to be a very nice man,” she says, very satisfyingly, and the disgusted Loretta is forced to her last resort: revealing that Margaret is a wanted criminal on the run from the law. But she must have known, on some level, that a woman as seasoned in the criminal world as Cheryl wouldn’t care about that either, and it all ends up with Loretta storming angrily out of the room as Cheryl continues to vocally give no shits about any of it.

Meanwhile, Jethro is preparing for his barring ceremony in the most appropriate way he can imagine.

Loretta’s still present, though, living rent-free in Caroline’s head, constantly grating between her and Jethro as the sandpapery wall that prevents them from living as a regular, out couple. Caroline fantasizes, mildly, about just straight-up killing her; Jethro doesn’t seem to object. 

Loretta’s conduct the next day doesn’t help any. A teacher called Smail (poor guy) reminds her that she’s gotta do a speech about her favorite family member soon, a concept that bores her enough that she goes right to Caroline and demands that she call the man off. Caroline points out, really quite reasonably, that she literally can’t do this, which doesn’t faze Loretta one bit. She makes her ultimatum clear: Smail leaves her alone, or she reveals to the world that Caroline fucked a student.

Let’s pause and review for a second. Loretta, less than seven minutes into this episode, has just done two things that are both kind of awful in different ways. Firstly, she outed a trans woman without a moment’s second thought in order to try and serve her own ends, and this becomes more awful when you remember that she fully understands - indeed, is maybe the only member of the cast who does - how much prejudice they face. Indeed, that exact knowledge is what drove her to do it; she was trying to manipulate the prejudice she assumed she’d find in her own mother in order to achieve her own ends. The second is more complicated; threatening to destroy the life of a statutory rapist isn’t really all that objectionable in itself, one might think, and Caroline surely does not deserve much of our sympathy. But Loretta doesn’t give a toss about the morality here, of course. She just views it as a nice, efficient way to realize her aggressive laziness, and we can rest assured that Caroline’s own moral failings are no more important to Loretta than those of any fly she might swat.

We cut to Ted and Margaret enjoying their bowls tournament, all the while surreptitiously taking photos of the place. It is revealed, in a conversation between them, that they’ve gone back to their old ways; the two of them are constructing a meticulous plan to rob the club blind, and they seem to be having great fun doing it. Again, I want to stress this: there is never any suggestion of anything untoward in Ted and Margaret’s relationship, and there’s no evidence of dishonesty, manipulation or anything else. The two really do love each other, and it’s honestly very wholesome. I mean, aside from the whole conspiracy to rob a bunch of their fellow old folks, I guess.

Cut to Ted back in the house, talking to Loretta. She doesn’t want him to go, and she says so. What follows is a conversation that quickly goes down the drain. 

It starts out innocently enough; Loretta reminds us all, in case we’ve forgotten, that she’s a teenage girl, and tells Ted that he’s “the only one in this fucked-up family who actually understands me”. But when the various garden-variety guilt trips and whatnot fail to move him, Loretta goes for the jugular: she mentions Rita. Well, I say “mentions”, but it’s really more like she wields her name as a bludgeon, suddenly abandoning all her sweet softness and just straight up wailing on Ted’s weakest point, implying that he’s selfish and the moral equivalent of an adulterer for finding someone new. Ted’s furious, and not a little upset; you can tell it got to him, and it may indeed have accomplished Loretta’s goal of giving him second thoughts. This wasn’t as calculated as Loretta’s usual cruelty, though; you can tell it came from a place of genuine hurt. She really is upset about the thought of her favorite family member leaving, and the truth is that this sort of reaction to the prospect of (perceived) abandonment isn’t actually too out of the ordinary for teenagers. Does that mean we should let it slide? Not really, but this time, I do understand. Anyway, Jethro and Caroline show up before Ted can respond, and they have a private conversation with Loretta in her room.

Jethro tries to convince Loretta to “just do what the nice teacher says”, for once. Loretta is unmoved. She’s generously come up with a solution for her Smail woes, too: she’s gonna accuse him of sexual assault, and Caroline’s gonna get him fired. Even Jethro is a little shocked at the newfound depths of the moral void present in the teenage girl sitting before him, and it’s true that it really is an absolutely awful thing to contemplate, let alone propose as a genuine plan. Blackmailing a teacher who really did commit sexual assault is one thing, but annihilating the life and career of a perfectly innocent one by falsely accusing him of that same thing (except, arguably, worse) just to avoid having to do one fucking speech is something entirely different. It also serves the nicely revealing function of letting us know for certain what we had already guessed: that Loretta doesn’t give a flying shit about the fact that what Caroline did was actually wrong. To her, it’s just another weapon she can use.

Meanwhile, Judd is trying as hard as he can to think of a reason to write a letter recommending that Jethro be denied entry to the bar. We cut, ominously, to Ted and Margaret planning their job. Ted is still thinking about Loretta’s words, and starts getting sentimental; “I swore there’d never be another woman,” he says, and Margaret says something about getting out of that on a technicality which I’m pretty sure no actual trans person would ever actually say, and which does make me wince a little. Ted mentions that Loretta loved Rita, which isn’t the last time that’ll come up.

Jethro is trying to console a very upset Caroline, who is just about at breaking point. Loretta, in her youthful inexperience, has dared to push it too far; Caroline is so distraught by the whole affair that she’s actually pretty much willing to commit career suicide and just let her send the photos, feeling that death (so to speak) would be a better fate than the abominable constant torture of living at the beck and call of a lazy, smug fifteen-year-old girl. So Jethro comes to Loretta in the middle of the night (prompting a very strange quip about incest from her) and leaves her an ultimatum: either she uses the photos now, or the blackmail stops. Loretta tries, in vain, to convince him otherwise, reminding him of the consequences, but he turns it round on her, asking if she’s considered how, exactly, Cheryl will react when she finds out what Loretta’s been doing. Loretta turns it back round against him, threatening to reveal his Maori fraud (and as far as I can tell, she’s the first white person in the show to pronounce the word “Maori” like the Maori do); Jethro simply points out that this would just straight-up break Cheryl’s heart, and has to trust that there’s at least something other than pure void in the girl’s soul that’ll restrain her. He leaves her with that, presumably nervous as anything. After all, he's Loretta’s family, and he knows perhaps even better than Caroline just how low she can go. So this is a tremendously big gamble for him to take.

Cut to the video hut next day. Loretta’s on the verge of tears in the office she commandeered from the real owner, and she’s particularly snappy with Kurt, even by her standards. “Why can’t I just live the way I say? Me getting what I want, is that too much to ask?” It’s not my favorite dialogue in the show - it’s a bit too on-the-nose, honestly - but it’s not exactly out of character. It turns out Loretta doesn’t have the photos; she had stashed them in Ted’s unit, and when it burned down, they went with it. She’s been bluffing ever since, and up until now, it had worked. But she’d done that thing young geniuses like her so often do: she’d overestimated her own intelligence, overplayed her hand. If she hadn’t been so lazy this once, she might’ve been able to keep the charade going until the end, but now everything’s fallen apart and she’s managed to sweep her own legs out from underneath her. She’s going to have to start going to school now. She thinks that’s tragic. And in a way it is. What’s that classic friendlyshark review on Letterboxd? “TRAGIC DRAMA. SHARK DESTROYED BY OWN HUBRIS. MASTERFUL.”

Things don’t get any better for her anytime soon. Margaret shows up when Loretta’s on her way into school, and she’s correctly divined that Loretta is trying to prevent Ted from leaving. She’s not having that at all; she tells her to stay out of the two of their business or she’ll, and I quote here, “rip your fucking tongue out”. And she does it all with a big smile on her face!  She also tells Loretta that she’s the spitting image of Rita, which is - again - not the last time we’ll hear that.

What’s shaping up here is a remarkably unusual kind of plot for TV shows outside of the sitcom realm. Loretta sure is the protagonist here, and her challenges, goals, and cast of villains is now all laid out before us. But “villains” here feels weird, because there’s nothing villainous about what Margaret is doing. She’s just protecting a relationship she cares deeply about from ruination at the hands of a selfish, frighteningly intelligent young girl, and there’s still no suggestion that her love for Ted isn’t genuine. If it wasn’t clear before, it’s becoming clear now: this is a plot with a villain protagonist, and Margaret is playing with something dangerous here.

We cut to Van, delicately polishing his toenails before scrambling to hide all the gear when Jethro comes in. He mostly ignores him and makes his way to Loretta’s room, looking for the photos. Loretta tells him she isn’t gonna use them because she “can’t do it to mum”, but Jethro knows her better than that; I don’t think he really expected that gambit he pulled to actually work, and he’s suspicious now that it did. Loretta tries hard not to spill the beans, but Jethro works it out anyway, and leaves gleefully secure in the knowledge that the photos are long gone. 

                                                           Kia kaha!

This pisses her right off. And sheer rage is what seems to motivate her next move: flagrantly ignoring the old West no-snitching code and putting together an anonymous report about who Margaret really is, posting it to the police. We don’t see the effects of that right away, though - we cut, instead, to Jethro telling the overwhelmingly relieved Caroline that the photos don’t exist anymore. She’s giddily excited at the prospect of her and Jethro becoming a regular couple. Jethro... well, he’s not as excited. You can see the enormity of it washing over him all at once, actually; it hits him, as Caroline is exploding with excitement before him, that he’s actually going to have to be seen out in public with her, and that now their relationship will involve more than just sex. Instantly, in that moment, you can tell this thing is doomed. But he invites her to his barring ceremony anyway.

It’s later, and Loretta and Ted are playing chess. It’s not clear who’s winning. Loretta eventually gives up anyway and tells Ted she’s going to give her speech about him. It’s a tender little scene, actually; Antonia Prebble really brings her A-game to this episode, capturing a very wide range of emotions in young Loretta, and it’s clear she really does love and care about her grandfather very dearly. 

He reappears the next morning, as Cheryl is making clear she will attend Loretta’s speech and drag Pascalle along with her (Van declares he isn’t going, and nobody seems to have any objection). Ted expresses an interest in it, too, in his usual feigned-dementia way. The good vibes are interrupted, though, by the demons Loretta herself conjured up earlier; Judd and Hickey turn up talking about “Mark”, making it clear that they’re onto Margaret, even if they don’t actually know where she lives or even really who she is (apparently she’s been savvy enough to keep her real name off any records). Judd not-so-subtly implies that he might use this as a reason to get Jethro denied admission to the bar. 

Now Cheryl cares.

She still doesn’t care enough to stop any of their plans, but she does make it clear, as non-maliciously as possible, that Margaret isn’t welcome in the West house anymore. Ted and Margaret, later, have some discussion about whether to continue with the job at all; Ted wants to call it off, but Margaret insists that they continue. The one concession she makes is that they move the job forward and do it tonight. Ted is conflicted, since that means missing Loretta’s speech, but ultimately his love for Margaret wins out.

The Wests, minus only Ted and Van, show up at the school, reminiscing about bygone days. Jethro reveals to the family that he’s dating Caroline, which seems to have Pascalle equal parts disgusted and amused. Cheryl is a bit nonplussed, too, but they’re all interrupted by Loretta, anxious and nervous that Ted hasn’t showed up yet. That’s because Ted is, at that very moment, getting ready to break into the club. He won’t be showing, and poor Loretta is waiting in vain, standing next to the man she would have completely destroyed without a second’s hesitation to get out of doing this very speech.

Loretta has to give her speech anyway, and the stage doesn’t suit her. But she finds her stride anyway, with the help of a jab at lawyers (Jethro very much included). What follows is a nicely efficient mix of character exploration, setting exposition, and plot development.

Loretta’s speech is, as promised, about Ted (”Theodore Francis West”), and she doesn’t pull any punches. The audience is shocked when she proudly mentions that he was once known as “the finest safe-cracker of his generation”, but this only seems to spur her on; offending the polite society with which she feels no connection is clearly instinctively pleasurable to her. We learn a bit about Ted’s early life; he married and had children young, he had a code of ethics he followed almost without fail, he was superstitious, and he was meticulous. This, then, is the origin of the West family profession, and Loretta seems to find it as romantic as anybody else might. But as she speaks - specifically, as she mentions that Ted’s targets always used to include sports clubs - she reaches a sudden, overwhelming moment of epiphany, and we know well what it is, because the whole thing has been intercut with scenes of Ted and Margaret expertly breaking into and robbing the bowls club.

She really is the smartest West. She’s also inherited both her mother’s drive and her father’s clarity of vision; the moment she finishes her speech, she fucks right off, failing to convince Jethro to lend her his car (she “drives like a maniac”, apparently, which isn’t surprising considering she’s fifteen) and thus instead just stealing and hotwiring a random unlocked one she finds in the parking lot. She drives off, coincidentally passing Judd and Hickey (surveiling Margaret’s house, I think, and very much not enjoying each other’s company) while, back at the school, Cheryl fails to get used to the fact that Jethro is dating his old teacher, and Jethro’s blood runs cold when he hears mention of a car stolen from just outside. 

She drives quite well, actually, and Judd and Hickey don’t recognise her. Cut to Ted and Margaret, jubilant with excitement at the success of their job. Ted opts to walk home, leaving the money with Margaret, who promises to pick him up tomorrow morning. But as she drives off, she encounters Loretta, and the two have a confrontation in the dark.

Loretta makes it clear: Margaret is to leave, and she’s not to take Ted with her. Margaret, of course, doesn’t see why she should - she loves Ted, after all, and what could be more important than that?

What Loretta says next is important.

“Do you love him enough to go back inside?” she asks. And that’s a threat that confused me at first, because what she’s threatening is basically to snitch, and hasn’t she already done that? But it’s different now, of course, because Loretta knows more. She’s at the scene of the crime; she’s a credible witness who can place her there and identify her car. Her prior act of snitching was limited, being entirely anonymous and based only off a decades-old cold case about a prison runaway; this time, she has real dirt, and the police will be far more motivated to pursue this one. And there’s another implication here, one that makes it all so much more horrible: if she tells the police about this, she’ll be putting Ted in the line of fire too. Is that what Loretta’s implying here? Does she really realise that’s what she’s doing? The dialogue leaves it open to interpretation, which may be intentional. Personally, though? I think she knows exactly what she’s doing. She’s forcing Margaret into a horrible choice: either risk the both of them getting caught and, one way or the other, separated, or just leave now and leave them both separated but, at least, still free. Either way, they won’t be together.

Loretta justifies this to herself as concern for Ted, who, she tells Margaret, is just too old for this sort of thing. Maybe she’s right - I dunno, he still seemed pretty spry when he broke into that safe. But are those really her reasons? Somehow, I’m skeptical. And that doesn’t jive very well with the veiled threat to put him in danger of prison, does it?

Cut to the West home. Loretta’s home already when the others all get back. She says she walked home; Cheryl believes her. Jethro knows better. He’s furious, since Loretta’s little stunt put him in danger; if she’d gotten caught, that might’ve endangered his admittance to the bar. Loretta’s response is as quintessentially teenage-girl as it gets. “I had my reasons, okay? And you wouldn’t understand.”

Next morning, Cheryl hears news of the break-in on the radio. Loretta lies as expertly as ever and reassures her that Ted wouldn’t be capable of such a thing. Ted pops his head out of his room, asking if the phone had gone for him; Loretta says the phone didn’t go. And that is such a quietly, horribly tragic moment - Ted facing up to the horrible beginnings of building, dreadful feelings of betrayal and abandonment; it being mistaken, by anyone present, for just his regular demented-old-man rambling, taken seriously by nobody; Loretta playing along with it, cold and sharp as ice, knowing the enormity of what she’s hiding from him and seeing what it’s doing to him and still displaying absolutely no response to it - that it rips me up inside a little bit every time I see it.

Cheryl doesn’t want him coming to Jethro’s barring ceremony; Loretta offers to stay and look after him. And if, at this point, you feel a sudden cresting wave of appalled, horrified disgust at that little thing, sitting there innocent and contented as a lamb as she awaits the full detonation of that abominable time-bomb of trauma and grief she just planted for her own grandfather, ready to be there with first-aid when it goes - well, that’s only natural.

We cut now to the only part of this episode that really doesn’t concern Loretta at all: Jethro’s barring ceremony. In its own way, that’s kind of horrible in itself, after all, but really Judd had it right earlier in the episode: “have you ever met a lawyer that wasn’t a ratbag?” Jethro’s general scummery ain’t exactly out of the ordinary for his profession, and one expects that he’ll fit right in. The ceremony itself is as big a moment for Cheryl as it is for Jethro, but alas, it isn’t everyone’s cup of tea.

The afterparty contains a couple of pretty great jokes - the head of Jethro’s law firm hesitantly trying to tread the line between admitting and not admitting that he’s seen Pascalle stripping; him also mistaking Van for Jethro and being absolutely baffled by his behavior - but one plot-important thing does take place: Tracy Hong shows up, for unimportant reasons, and promptly and immediately realises that the man she had sex with that one time was definitely Jethro and not Van. That will be important, though not perhaps in the way I’d like.

Judd and Hickey call off their surveillance, though not before Hickey creeps out Judd some more. Elsewhere, Caroline tells Jethro she loves him before they sleep; Jethro doesn’t say it back, and he dreams about Tracy. Uh oh. 

And then we’re back in the West household, populated only by Ted and Loretta. 

And this one hurts.

This show doesn’t pull any punches, and Frank Whitten (R.I.P) throws into it with all his might. Ted is in two. He’s ripped apart, torn up, absolutely shattered, utterly distraught with a truly awful concoction of grief, confusion, betrayal and pain. It was never in any doubt, and it’s even less in doubt now: Ted loved Margaret. He loved her deeply and truly. And right now, he is in overwhelming agony.

And then there’s Loretta.

A lot of people will talk about fictional characters they hate. Not hate in the sense of critiquing the quality of their writing, but hate in the sense that they just loathe them. Dolores Umbridge and Joffrey Baratheon are the most common names mentioned. But let me tell you that in this moment, when I’m watching this brief, minute-long scene, I have never hated either of them with even a cinder’s worth of the hate that I feel for Loretta in this moment. She’s sitting there, tender and soft, gently caressing Ted with needles concealed within cushions. “She’s not coming, Grandpa;” “Maybe she didn’t really love you.” She leans in close to him and whispers: “but I’m still here.” She looks the desolation and annihilation she has wrought square in his trembling, tear-stained eyes, reaches into his shattered soul, and reconstructs it with threads that all lead back to her. She weaponizes the agony she conjured in him to root him even firmer to the spot, building the moss-encrusted walls of grief that were erected with Rita’s death even higher up round him, constructing a fortress of pain in which the only exit leads to her.

She didn’t do this because “he’s old”, or any other altruistic concern. She did it because she loves her grandpa. She loved him so much, in fact, that she didn’t want him to ever leave her side; he is, as she said in her speech, her oldest and best friend. And she has precious few friends, as we know. She has little to cling to in this world. So when she faces the prospect of losing one of those rocks, she moves heaven and Earth to keep it locked firmly where it is. 

“Sometimes you’re so like your grandmother,” says Ted. “So I’ve been told,” says Loretta, hugging him, satisfied that she achieved her goal. She’s not losing Ted. She’s had to shatter him into a million pieces and make him live through the worst pain imaginable once again, but that’s okay with her. If anything, it’s strengthened his bond with her. Things have turned out better than she could possibly have imagined.

I hate Loretta West. I hate her with every fiber of my being. She is, truly and deeply and utterly to her core, a monster. All her excuses, all her alienation, all her teenage rage - all of that just makes it worse. She’s a complex, three-dimensional human being, one of the best-written characters I have ever encountered, laden with layers and depth and commentary on levels I’ve never seen before. And she is, far and away, the blackest, most evil, most hateful and horrible soul I have ever seen on television. Sure, she hasn’t got a body count like Joffrey or Hannibal, but that’s just setting and context, and by that metric the worst monster in television history is some Cylon from BSG. This is a show set in the suburbs in a well-developed country, and it’s not about murderers or wars. It’s about a little suburban family of screw-ups and misfits, and at their core, sitting at the dinner table alongside them every night, is a child whose heart is as black as obsidian, whose capacity for evil is deep as a black hole. And the thing she does in this episode is evil, make no mistake. It’s so evil it’s honestly kind of nauseating. It gets worse the more you think about it, fractally awful, a kaleidescope of blackness.

And she’ll do it again.

Anyway, erm... I don’t really remember what happens in the next episode. It’ll be fun to remind myself. Until next time, I suppose.

[business-as-usual-bats]

Tim's First Christmas as Robin

Tim walked through the hallways of his school with a smile because he officially had the best life ever.

Why? Because Tim Drake was Robin. He helped people. He saved lives. He worked with literal superheroes. It was hard work, exhausting in every way, it took up all his time, and he still had a lot to learn, but at the end of the day he made a difference in the world.

Batman had begun to warm up to him, too, trusting him more with patrolling certain areas alone and handling common thieves and muggers. Batman even complimented him yesterday!! After Tim solved a mystery about Penguin's disappearing shipments in Gotham Harbor, Bruce said, "Good job" and kinda gave a smile!! According to Dick, that's, like, practically the equivalent of a hug!

And since Dick is coming back to Wayne Manor for the holidays, Batman said Tim doesn't have to go patrolling on Christmas, so he can be with his family.

Tim's parents! That's the best part! His parents were finally coming home after being gone half the year. They were supposed to be home months ago... for the first day of the school year... Halloween... Thanksgiving... but they kept getting held up at their jobs. But this time they promised they'd be there on Christmas Eve! Tim went ahead and put up Christmas lights and a tree in preparation. He had it all planned out. He even got ingredients to make gingerbread cookies. Never before had Tim felt so... festive. A few times he caught himself humming along to the overplayed Christmas jingles on the radio.

So, now was the last day of school before winter break. His last class was Algebra and he took his usual seat by the windows. Everyone was goofing off, the teacher didn't even bother to try to actually teach anything by this point. The class comedian of his peers was talking to everyone,

"Nah, I'm just sayin' it's true! Whenever you're watching a movie and sex scene comes up then -BAM- your parents are right there outta nowhere."

Everyone is laughing, including Tim. God, that'd be embarrassing. Does this really happen that often to other people?

"Yeah, your mom be ignoring you all damn day and then she's suddenly all about your life when people start making out. Like how does she know? It's gotta be like the same magic Santa uses to sense who's naughty or who's nice."

"Shit, man. My dad could be gone for 8 years but as soon as that scene comes up he's right there behind me sayin, 'Hey, son. Watcha watchin'?'"

The jokes are silly and dumb and it makes time pass by quickly. Thr bell signaling the end of the day rings and Tim sets off for Wayne Manor.

Patrol goes well, too. It was all business as normal until the Dynamic Duo got back to the cave and who should be there but

"Dick!" Tim yelled, getting swept up in a classic Grayson hug. "Put me down!"

"Merry Christmas, Tiny Tim!"

"It's not Christmas yet."

"It's Christmas every day if you carry love in your heart." Dick grinned and plopped him on the floor. "I got you the coolest and totally-not-a-robin-motorcycle gift ever!"

"A what?" Tim squeaked. "Motorcycle?? But I don't have anything nearly as cool to give you-"

"Now, now, I specifically said it wasn't a motorcycle. But if it were, then I'd tell you it's fine and not to worry about it! It's Christmas!"

"Dick-"

"I'm gonna hug you again-"

"Don't you dare!"

"Pfft. Fine. But hey, I heard your parents are coming home?"

"YEAH!" And Tim didn't mean to shout but the words starting pouring, "They're gonna be home in time for Christmas and I put up the stockings I made, and I have a list of all of dad's favorite Christmas songs, and I'm gonna make gingerbread cookies cuz I found this awesome recipe online, and I got them the perfect gifts because you see last year my mom was complaining on how she didn't have any earrings that matched my dad's favorite tie that he wears all the time which I think was her way of telling him to get rid of the tie but instead I got him a new tie that's the same color and got matching earrings and-"

"Woah! But you'll still stop by the Manor to say hi, right?"

"Duh! I'm not about to miss out on Alfred's homemade Christmas cookies you guys brag about all the time."

"Good! How was patrol?" And they chatted away until Tim decided it was late and he should go home.

The days dragged on until finally finally it was the morning of December 24th. His parents would be home any second! He waited, looking out the window now and again, watching the clock tick by...

And he waited

And waited

They were late.

He called his mom twice, and she answered the second time.

"Yes? Tim, honey?"

"Mom? Um... are you guys almost here or...?"

"What? Oh no, I thought we told you. We aren't going to make it in time for Christmas. You see-" and she explained how an artifact they'd found was accused of being a fake and how much of a legal mess they were in... and... more excuses... "I'm sorry, honey. You know if we could we'd much rather spend Christmas with you. We sent your present in the mail."

"I... I know, Mom." Tim sighed, "I'm not mad. I understand."

"You're such a kind boy, Timothy. We love you so much. We never stop thinking of you."

"I love you, too." And she hung up.

Tim stared ahead blankly, the phone still in his hand. He wasn't sure how long he just stood there, but suddenly his phone rang again

"Hello?" Tim answered. His voice sounded distant to him, like he wasn't even the one talking.

"Tim!" It was Dick, "Hey, so I know we should probably know this but, um, are you allergic to any nuts or spices? Like, even just a small allergy to something?"

"No."

"Sweet! Thanks! Hey... are you alright?"

"Yeah."

"You seem... off."

"I'm fine. I'm just... distracted with my family. They... aren't as excited as I am to be home."

"Oh, that sucks. But they made it home, right? They're there with you now?"

"Yeah, no. They made it here okay." Tim didn't know why he was lying... Was he ashamed? And at who? His parents? Himself? "I should go."

"Well, alright. See you later!"

"Yeah." Tim sighed and threw the phone away from him in disgust.

His eyes stung, he quickly wiped away the beginnings of tears. This was stupid to cry about. Not worth it. Why cry? Just because his parents broke another promise? Because they say they love him but they keep leaving? Why don't they stay? Did he do something wrong? Is he that horrible that they don't want to be around him? Why isn't he good enough for them? Why don't they like him? What can he do better?

Tim started crying and immediately hated himself for it, but he couldn't stop. It all seemed so unfair. It hurt. And the hurt made him want to be comforted, and he wanted his mom here to comfort him. But she's not. She can't be. And somehow, Tim knew it was his fault.

He looked at the Christmas tree blurred through his tears and thought briefly about pushing it down. But that wouldn't fix anything, would it? No. It wouldn't bring his parents home. There was nothing to do about it.

He curled up on the couch facing the Christmas tree and let the tears fall until he could sleep.

The next day was Christmas. Yay.

Tim didn't feel like celebrating. Or moving in general. He managed to slink over to the living room and turn on the TV. Maybe he could watch something to distract him from Christmas.

Or every channel could be focused on the importance of family during Christmas time. Literally. Every. Channel. Christmas and love. Christmas and love. Fuck Christmas. It's was just a stupid commercialized waste of time! Why's he even doing this Christmas shit? He's pretty sure his mom is Jewish anyway! Ugh!

But then he clicked the channel and woah- that's more skin showing than he expected. Suddenly, he remembered:

"Whenever you're watching a movie and a sex scene comes up then -BAM- your parents are right there!"

What if...

He changed to one of the more "mature" channels debuting their Christmas specials. It was sappy romance stuff, which isn't the worst, but he was more of a scifi kind of guy.

It was a typical plotline. A lady is scheduled to marry a prince but she's in love with a commoner guy. Lazy writing. It's been done before. But maybe...

Is it too childish to hope for a miracle on Christmas?

He sat with rapt attention through the whole ordeal. At one point the lady runs away to meet her forbidden true love (even though it's totally going to get her caught and in trouble and might even get the lover killed). They start kissing and taking off their clothes, but Tim isn't paying much attention now because this is the moment! He listened for the doorbell, for a knock, for a car, for a voice... But no parents came running. No one was there at the door. Why did he even hope...

Tim glared angrily at the two naked people on screen, "Is it too much to wish for my family to be here on Christmas??"

Then a *ding dong* came from the front of the house. Tim paused the TV. Wait. Could it be?

One second he was in the living room, the next he was swinging the front door open without any hesitation,

"Mom?? Dad??" Tim called excitedly before realizing who was there, "Oh... Hey, Dick. Uh, come on in." He tried not to look disappointed.

"I thought you were going to visit the Manor?" Dick pouted, walking in. Only then did Tim notice Alfred was following him.

"I lost track of time." Tim said honestly, "I'm sorry." Oh God, what if Bruce was upset with him? What if Bruce hates him now?? What if he ends up leaving Tim for months at a time and lies about being home for Christmas??

"Where are your parents?" Dick asked, but it was more rhetorical than anything. He could no doubt see the puffy eyes of someone who spent the night crying. Tim answered anyway.

"Africa."

"Still, on Christmas?" Alfred raised both his eyebrows in disapproval.

"It's not their fault! It's... work stuff. They don't... they said they'd rather be here with me but... It's not a big deal."

"Well, as that may be, Master Timothy, I insist you join us today and tonight at Wayne Manor."

"Yeah!" Dick chirped. "Alfred made a ton of food, like, all of your favorites! Didn't you, Al?"

"Indeed, I did, sir."

"But, Bruce-"

"Is the one that asked us to come and make sure you're okay." Dick smiled, "He's waiting for us. Actually, I think he really missed you on patrol last night."

"Really?"

"If I may," Alfred whispered, "Master Bruce also specifically requested I hang up a stocking with your name on it."

No way. But... Alfred wouldn't lie about that would he... Bruce really... Wow

"...Right. I'll visit him as scheduled and then leave." By the glint in Dick's eye though, Tim had a feeling he'd be staying in the Manor longer than planned. And honestly? That sounded a lot better than staying in this house alone.

"Great! I'll get your coat." Dick walked around the corner to the living room. "It's this way, right? Oh. Huh. I remember this movie."

Oh.

"TURN IT OFF IT'S NOT WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE-"

The end.